David Gemmell - Morningstar

‘I wish I had never met her,’ I said, and at that moment I meant it. The sharpness of my sorrow seemed immensely more powerful than the love we had experienced.

‘No, you don’t,’ he assured me. ‘Not even close. You said it yourself… her life was one of tragedy. But you supplied something pure, something joyful. You gave her a reason for being. Be proud of that!’

I looked at him with new eyes. ‘Is this the Jarek Mace who led a woman to suicide? Is this the robber who cares only for gold?’

He struck me then, a sharp blow with the back of his hand that made my head spin, and pushed himself to his feet. ‘Wallow in self-pity if you must,’ he said coldly. ‘I have more important matters to attend to.’

We buried Megan in a meadow beneath the branches of a willow — an open spot overlooked by the mountains, with a stream close by. We made no headstone, nor even marked the spot. Such was the way of death in the forest at that time.

No prayers were spoken by any, but when the gravediggers had moved away and I stood alone by the small mound of earth I said my farewells, allowing the wind to carry my words wherever it travelled.

Horga the Enchantress was gone from the world to whatever oblivion or Paradise existed beyond the veils of life. As a bard I could hope that Rabain was waiting for her somewhere between worlds, but as a man I could feel only sadness at her passing.

The next few months were both chaotic and memorable. Angostin citadels were overthrown throughout the land, and the people were filled with the spirit of freedom. Yet these were not easy times. For despite the tyranny of Angostin rule, they still supplied law of a kind. Without them anarchy beckoned, and Brackban was forced to become a judge as well as a general. Units were sent to police towns and cities, new laws were struck in the name of the Morningstar. Disputes needed to be settled, the rights to land established.

I remember well one case where five families laid claim to a tavern in Ziraccu. The first maintained they had ownership rights stolen during the days before the Angostin invasion; the second claimed to have bought the rights from Azrek; the third had an earlier claim, based on a deed signed by the Highland King some sixty years previously. The fourth swore that the most recent owner had willed it to them, and produced documents to support their story. As to the fifth, well, they were in possession, having moved in following the slaying of the Vampyre Kings. Their claim was that they had taken over a shell with no stock and had built up the custom, investing their own capital.

There were scores of cases like these — some judged by Mace, others by Brackban or Raul Raubert. But the lists grew and other judges were appointed. Most came from the Church, bishops and priests — even an Abbess, though having a woman as a judge proved unpopular at first. Others were clerks or lawyers from freed cities.

Slowly, as autumn moved into winter, some degree of order was established.

The outlaws of Corlan now followed Mace, like an elite royal guard, and Brackban continued his training of recruits and officers. The pace of revolution slowed, but despite the many irritations the mood remained optimistic. Even when travellers, merchants and tinkers moved up from the south with news of Edmund’s gathering army, there was little gloom. ‘We have the Morningstar,’ said the people. ‘Nothing can defeat him.’During these months I saw little of Mace. He rode through the land with Raul gathering men, giving speeches, collecting coin to pay for the weapons the new army would need. There was no line of credit offered by merchants — for they did not believe in the Morningstar. All they knew was that the Angostin Battle King was preparing to march north in the spring — and where he marched, death and destruction followed.

Desperation makes for cost, my dear ghost. Our army was in dire need of weapons, and the iron for these was found only in the south. Therefore we needed to pay men who were willing to smuggle them across to us. An iron-tipped spear that should cost as little as two pennies now sold for twenty. Swords and halberds were seven, eight times the price. And armour? No matter how much coin we raised, the cost was prohibitive.

Edmund had closed off the southern borders and merchants found with wagons loaded with weapons were hanged, drawn and quartered. The ports were sealed also and Ikenas galleons were anchored offshore, ready with their grappling-irons to storm any ship that tried to sail past.

Our biggest fear was starvation, for a great deal of the food consumed in the north was imported from the richer, more fertile southlands.

Wulf and Piercollo were placed in charge of supplies for the army, but their roles widened as winter took hold. The movement of food to villages and towns cut off by snow, the filling of storehouses in cities, the distribution of supplies throughout the north — this consumed all their time. The winter months were fraught with peril but, save for isolated cases, there was no starvation. In the northern city of Callias a mob looted the storehouse, but Brackban’s militia routed them, hanging twenty of the ringleaders as an example to others. It was the only serious incident of that long, bitter winter.

And what of Owen Odell during this period? I had no place in the new government, and Mace did not speak to me for weeks following the incident by the lakeside. I had no niche, no specific role. I helped Wulf and Piercollo with the organization of food, and I worked alongside Astiana in caring for the sick; the Gastoigne sister had moved into Ziraccu to help the survivors of Golgoleth’s brief reign. There were orphans to be cared for, families to be found who would take in an extra child during the harsh winter months. And she founded a school, where each day she taught unwilling youngsters the principles of letters and arithmetic.

But for the most part I idled away my days thinking of Ilka and playing my harp. I lived then in Megan’s cabin and continued her work of curing meats, preparing geese and poultry for the table, and gathering herbs which Astiana used to draw out infections and fevers.

With the coming of spring, however, the mood of the people began to change. The talk was all of the coming war and the ferocious reputation of the Battle King.

One bright morning, as I sat on a hillside overlooking the lake, I saw a rider gallop his horse into the settlement square. People swarmed around him as he sought out Brackban, who was visiting the town. I did not go down; I knew by the chill in my blood the news the rider carried.

The Battle King was coming.

The snows were melting on the hillsides when I was summoned to Ziraccu. And as the riders came, bringing a spare horse, I was sure that Mace needed my counsel. I had felt somewhat aggrieved during the winter when he did not call upon me, nor seek my advice. And now, as I rode a tall stallion, I practised in my mind the manner of my rebuke to him for his lack of courtesy. I would be gentle and ultimately forgiving, but nonetheless send a shaft that would strike home.

Mace had not taken up residence in the palace; it was closed now and none ventured into it. The Vampyres had gone but the memory lingered and the evil done there had according to local legend, seeped into the walls. Instead the Morningstar had taken over a house in the rich merchants’ quarter. There were fine gardens around it, hemmed in by high walls. I rode with my escort to the front gates where grooms led our horses away and servants ushered us into the main hall. The two riders who had accompanied me bowed and left me there and it was Brackban, not Mace, who moved out to greet me. He led me through to a small library and we sat in comfortable chairs of padded leather set beside a fireplace. The sun was hot outside, yet here in this room of stone it was cool, and a fire had been lit.