Roger Taylor: The fall of Fyorlund

‘What manner of man?’ Dan-Tor said, his face rigid.

The Mathidrin was trembling, and seemed unable to speak.

Dan-Tor repeated his question, slowly and menac-ingly.

The man found his tongue. ‘A warrior, Ffyrst. An Orthlundyn.’

The words blurred in Dan-Tor’s hearing and a great roaring filled his ears. With a dreadful inhuman cry he strode from the hall.

Wearily the King stood up and walked down the steps to face Eldric. The noise of Dan-Tor’s leaving was echoing round and round the hall like a tormented spirit and it weighed heavily on him.

‘Eldric,’ he said. ‘My old friend and comrade-in-arms. Today, I’ve been either very wise or very foolish.’

Eldric barely heard the remark. ‘Majesty,’ he said in a mixture of awe and disbelief. ‘Rgoric. You’re your old self again?’ He gazed into the King’s face and nodded. ‘Recovered. It’s a miracle.’

‘No miracle, Eldric,’ the King replied. ‘Only some strange fate and the single-minded devotion of my Queen. But she’ll tell you all in due course. Right now we must consider your next course of action.’

Eldric frowned. ‘Consider, Majesty? Consider? There’s nothing to consider. We’ll remain by your side and begin the undoing of all these ills.’

The King shook his head. ‘You weren’t usually so rash, Eldric. You must realize that’s not possible. We’re effectively alone in the Palace. Certainly we’ve no armed friends to aid us. We could be slain within the next few minutes.’

Eldric’s eyes opened in disbelief. ‘Majesty, this can’t be. You’re the King. No one would dare… ’ His words faded, strangled by his own knowledge. Then came a little flare of optimism. ‘But you held Dan-Tor here, in thrall, at your feet.’

The King shook his head again. ‘The only chains that bound Dan-Tor was surprise and caution.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘We were both playing the same game. He was waiting to see what I intended and I was waiting for some measure of him. Now I fear we both have the measure of one another, and I’m the loser by it.’

‘I don’t understand, Majesty,’ said Eldric, waving his arms vaguely.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ retorted the King. ‘Suffice it that I’ve managed to have you released. You must flee the City and head for your stronghold. Horses have been arranged for you.’ He silenced an impending interrup-tion with a wave of his hand. ‘On my express command, you’ll levy the High Guards of all the Lords, and drive Dan-Tor and his Mathidrin from Vakloss and all Fyorlund.’

‘Majesty.’ Eldric’s voice was almost desperate as he attempted to stem the King’s flow. The King fumbled with a ring on his finger.

‘Eldric, as you care for me, be silent and listen. Take this.’ He thrust the Iron Ring of the Kings forcibly into Eldric’s hand. ‘We haven’t the time for courtesies and explanations. That ring is my authority for what you must do.’ He paused. ‘You’re aware of Dilrap’s part in this affair?’ he asked softly.

Eldric looked at the Secretary. ‘The Queen told the Goraidin Yatsu he’s to be trusted,’ he said.

The King nodded. ‘When circumstances permit, he’s to be greatly honoured for the courage he’s shown and the aid he’s rendered our country. You must see to that. But now, go with him. Horses have been prepared for you but all relies on speed and surprise. Go now.’

Eldric swung from side to side in indecision. ‘But, Majesty,’ he said, ‘what are you going to do…? And the Queen?’

The King straightened up. ‘The Queen has gone already,’ he said. ‘I prevailed upon her when I realized what our position was here.’

‘Alone, Majesty?’ Eldric said softly.

A twinge of doubt showed on the King’s face. ‘You forget who and what she is, Eldric,’ he replied. ‘She’s a Muster woman on a Muster horse. She’ll reach your estates long before you and warn them of your coming. Besides, she’s much loved by the people. There are many reasons why no one will stand in her way.’

Eldric’s shoulders lifted then dropped in angry res-ignation. ‘Well, if she’s gone, she’s gone. We’ll never catch her, that’s certain. But why are you here?’

Rgoric stared into the old Lord’s face. Truth, he thought. Truth was what had kept Fyorlund whole for so long, and truth alone could restore it now. He took Eldric’s arm and led him to one side. ‘Eldric. I’ve no plan this day. No scheme. Nothing. To plan implies to know, and I know nothing of Dan-Tor. What he is… or,’ he looked significantly at Eldric, ‘the force that moves him.’ The two men looked at one another in silence for a long moment, then the King continued. ‘I knew only that I’d have one chance to learn and act. It was my hope, no more, that I could effect your release and escape, but beyond that, nothing.’

‘I understand, Majesty,’ Eldric said urgently. ‘But you can flee now.’

Rgoric shook his head. ‘No, Eldric, I can’t,’ he said. ‘Dan-Tor’s poisons have injured me irreparably, despite the efforts of Sylvriss and my appearance of well-being. It’s only a matter of time before I succumb to illness again, and I see no fixture other than as a whingeing dotard.’

Eldric winced at the force of the King’s momentary bitterness. ‘Rgoric, how can you be sure of this?’ he said anxiously. ‘There’s a great healer in the land, from Orthlund… ’

The King’s look stopped him. ‘I’m sure, Eldric,’ he said. ‘An inner sight has come with my recovery. I can’t turn my feet from the path it has shown me. Be assured, what you see now is an unseasonable flowering before a cruel frost.’

Eldric was silent, head bowed.

‘It’s not what I’d wished for, Eldric,’ the King con-tinued. ‘But it is the truth. Time works against us on all fronts of the battle. If you escape then I’ll have re-deemed some of the failures of my poor reign. Next, I’ll kill His servant here or perish in the attempt.’

Eldric stared at him. The words rang in his head- His servant-but before he could speak, Rgoric led him further from Jaldaric and Dilrap. ‘Eldric. Sylvriss thinks I’m following on with you,’ he said, very softly. ‘When you meet, ask her to forgive me this last small deceit.’ He hesitated and looked down at his hands. ‘Tell her… tell her… we’ve had two lives together, one at the beginning and one at the end… tell her, greater joy could never have been.’ Then a little more heartily, though his eyes were shining damp in the torchlight, ‘As you love me, Eldric, do as I’ve asked-for all our sakes. Leave me to… to attend to my Royal duties.’

Impulsively, Eldric reached out and embraced the King. As they parted, wordlessly, the King nodded towards the door and Eldric, signalling to Dilrap and Jaldaric, marched quickly from the hall without looking back.

Rgoric listened to their receding footsteps, then slowly climbed back up on to the ancient throne of the Kings of Fyorlund.

Dan-Tor strode through the corridors of the Palace, his mind in a turmoil. That the King was opposing him and perhaps even now might be wreaking havoc with his plans dwindled into insignificance against the awesome force that was drawing him inexorably towards its heart. His thoughts whirled in imitation of this maelstrom but as he neared it, words of caution floated increasingly to the surface.

Then came the memory of his Master’s terrible cold anger and gradually his pace eased and his mind became clearer, even though the alien power was ringing like a mocking challenge through his entire body.

A warrior. An Orthlundyn. That green-eyed demon had come to confront him in his own lair! He shuddered at the memory of Orthlund and Anderras Darion and briefly his old reproaches returned. Why had he done what he had done there? What had so marred his judgement? He brushed them aside, but the fear that came in their wake halted him as he reached the main entrance hall.