They woke to find the sky grey, cloudy, moody. The wind had dropped away. Tomorrow, they would be able to use the death-stone; for today, they could only wait. Miphon concentrated on the Meditations; Hearst, half-heartedly, practised with his sword Hast. Blackwood went scavenging amongst the rocks near the mountain, returning, in due course, with a load of snails which he had found glued to those rocks, settled in for the winter.
They cooked, and ate.
They drank stream-water.
They waited.
Toward, mid-morning, they saw a body of horsemen coming down the Salt Road. They debated whether to risk talking with them.
'We have to know what's happening in the south,' said Blackwood. 'On the other hand, we can't risk the death-stone. So I'll go. You two stay here. Depending on who it is and how the talk goes, I'll either say I'm alone or else say you're here.'
'Be careful,' said Hearst.
'Trust me,' said Blackwood.
And Blackwood set out from Maf for the Salt Road. Hearst and Miphon eventually saw him intercept the horsemen. There was a long hiatus, and then the horsemen started to make for Maf. Blackwood was leading them to his comrades. i hope he knows what he's doing,' muttered Hearst. i trust him,' said Miphon.
'Yes, but…'
As the horsemen drew near, it became apparent that 528 they were fewer in number than they seemed to be at first. There were, in fact, only a score of horsemen; however, as each had a string of half a dozen mounts -to provide the changes needed for fast long-distance riding – they made quite a sizeable body when they were on the move.
As the riders came closer, Hearst recognised:
Blackwood. And -
Prince Comedo!
And-
Elkor Alish!
Smiling!
And, apart from that, precisely nineteen assorted troopers – Hearst, with a warriors's concern for the odds, counted them. Though it did not look like it was going to come to a fight. Instead, there was happiness all round. Mixed, though, with a fair bit of weariness -these horsemen had ridden long and hard.
'Greetings,' said Prince Comedo.
'My lord,' said Hearst, bowing.
'We understand you can save the world for us,' said Comedo, who looked pale and drawn. 'Accordingly, we have made a treaty with you. Tell him the terms.'
And he nodded at Blackwood.
'The good and gracious Lord Emperor Comedo,' said Blackwood, 'Master of all of Argan, Commander of the Central Ocean, terror of all lands beneath the stars, ruler of Powers and Thrones, deeds to the three of us, as a token of gratitude for the performance of deeds now promised, the suzerainty of the Greater Teeth and of the Lesser.'
'My lord is very gracious,' said Hearst, keeping a straight face and managing a bow.
He urgently wanted this charade to end. He wanted to talk to Elkor Alish. Alish! Really there! On a horse! Just a few paces away! Alish, smiling! 'For his part,' said Blackwood, 'the good and gracious Lord Emperor Comedo will allow us full use of the red bottle which is his by virtue of his treaty with the High Priest of all Gods and all Demons, Valarkin of Estar.'
'Valarkin!' said Hearst, with shock and surprise.
'The High Priest of all Gods and all Demons,' drawled Alish, 'is currently at the southern border with our death-stone. It worked once, then refused to work again. He thinks it'll come to life in due course. I think he's wrong, which is why we're on our way north. With… this.'
And he patted the red bottle hanging from his belt.
'We have,' said Alish, 'most of our army within. Including troops from Rovac. They did come, Morgan, I called, and they came. I, you see… did my best.'
There was something strange in his voice. What? Tension. Not anger, surely. Not hate? Or was it? 'So much for the red bottle and the death-stone,' said Hearst. 'What about the green bottle? Valarkin got his hands on that, too.'
'Oh, the green bottle,' said Alish. 'Oh, that. I gave that to a pirate as a love-offering.'
'No!' cried Hearst, in shock, pain, horror and disbelief.
'Yes,' said Alish, with a sardonic edge to his voice. 'And I promised that same pirate something else. Your head!'
And with that, Alish drew his sword. He urged his horse forward.
'Honour the Emperor!' screamed Blackwood. 'Honour the Emperor's treaty!'
A horseman tried to head Alish off. Alish cut him down. Comedo was shouting for Alish to stop.
'Are you with me, boys?' shouted Alish.
Some cried yes, but others – their Emperor was of the Favoured Blood – shouted no.
'Run!' said Hearst.
And Hearst, Blackwood and Miphon fled. Alish, unable to break free from the melee to follow them, screamed: 'Run then, Morgan, run! Run, you rat-spawn murderer! You can run, but you'll never find a hole that's safe from me!'
The Lord Emperor Comedo, titular ruler of all of Argan, ruler de jure of Estar, and ruler de facto of, perhaps, at least some of his own lice, died in the cavalry brawl at the foot of Maf, cut down by a trooper who wanted no part in treaties with wandering vagrants, and who sided instead with Elkor Alish.
He died with a sword in his hand, which was, some might say, to his credit; whatever the merits of his death, Elkor Alish, triumphant, made it positive and final by cutting off Comedo's head.
The rock chimney was narrow. It led almost straight up to a dark opening in the side of the mountain.
'That's the way,' said Hearst.
It led up into a system of tunnels and caves that could take them all the way to the top of Maf. From that vantage point, they could, on the morrow, command the mountain with their death-stone.
'Are you sure you remember the way?' said Miphon.
'Positive,' said Hearst, hoping.
'How do we climb up?' said Blackwood. 'We don't have a ladder.'
'Watch,' said Hearst.
And swarmed up the chimney, working with back, knees, feet, hand and hook-hand.
'If you get tired,' he shouted, before disappearing into the cave at the top, 'jam yourself in the crack, back against one wall, knees against the other.'
Blackwood and Miphon followed.
Hearst led them on, through the darkness.
It was a long, slow climb, with many twists and turnings, but at least they had the comfort of knowing that Alish could not follow them. Someone who did not know the way would soon get lost in amongst the caves and tunnels. When they got to the top, they would be safe. They would have no more worries until it was time to use the death-stone again, and take the mountain south to do battle with the Swarms.
At last, they saw ahead a glimmer of light.
'That's the dragon's lair,' said Hearst. 'Wait here, I'll go and see if it's all clear. If it is, we'll be able to get into the tunnel that takes us to the top.'
'Of course it'll be clear,' said Miphon. it's been seven seasons since the dragon Zenphos died,' said Hearst. 'That's time enough for another dragon to come here. Wait till I've had a look.'
'As you wish,' said Miphon.
'Don't take too long,' said Blackwood. i won't.'
Morgan Hearst drew his battlesword Hast and slipped forward through the gloom. Ahead of him the dragon's lair was lit by the fading light of the evening sky; they had indeed been a long time climbing up through the mountain.
Hearst saw the dragon's skeleton in the lair. So there was no new dragon living in this cave high up in the mountain of Maf. Good. He stepped into the lair.
And stopped.
And stared.
'Hello, Morgan,' said Elkor Alish. 'You!'
'Yes, me,' said Elkor Alish, smiling, i've been waiting here for some time. An interesting climb, isn't it?'
Elkor Alish had lost some of the skin of his fingertips 532 somewhere on the mountainside, but there was nothing else in his appearance to suggest he had found the climb difficult. 'Alish…'
'Here,' said Alish, drawing his sword, 'we have an ending.'
'Alish,' said Hearst, his voice low and urgent. "We've got to talk. I have to explain. We've misunderstood each other for a long time.'
'You wish to talk?' said Alish. 'Then let steel speak to steel!'
He attacked. Hearst barely parried the attack. They broke apart, both panting already, more from the shock of combat than anything else.
'Alish!' said Hearst, in desperation. 'We were friends once!'
'Were we?' said Alish, his voice rising to a shout as he moved in for the kill. 'Were we?'
Hearst had slipped the toe of his boot under a dragon's scale. He kicked it up toward Alish's face. Alish glimpsed something spinning toward him and slashed at it. His sword shattered the brittle scale into a thousand fragments. Catching that momentary opening, the point of Hearst's sword raked across his ribs.
Alish parried a second blow.
The lighters broke apart.
'Only a scratch,' said Alish, harshly.
Hearst said nothing.
'It was good though, good,' said Alish, bringing his breathing under control. 'You've improved.' Alish moved in again.
Hearst backpaced, leaping away like a dancer.
Swords clashed, once, twice, three times. Hearst came up against one of the ribs of the dragon. He slipped in under the arch of the ribcage. In amongst the ribs, where Alish would have no room for his fanciest bladework, Hearst would have his best chance.
'There's no place to hide,' said Alish. 'This is the sword Raunen Song. The bright blade of vengeance. It's all over, Morgan. Ahyak Rovac!'
Screaming, Alish struck.
Metal rang against metal.
Alish beat down Hearst's sword and slashed for his throat. Hearst's right arm swept up. His steel hook caught Alish's blade. His own sword lunged for his rival's heart – but Alish sidestepped then backstepped, withdrawing out of reach.
'Good,' crooned Alish. 'Good, yes. You have, oh yes, my dearest Morgan, you have improved.'
His voice was soft, relaxed, silky.
Then, with a scream, he attacked, fast and furious, driving Hearst out of the rib-cage and into the open ground. Now there was no time to think, only to strike and react. Death matched death in a blur of shadow and light.
Momentarily, their blades locked, hilt to hilt. Alish spat.
And Hearst slashed him with his right-hand hook.
Alish screamed in agony. His left eye was gone, his face torn open. He took a wild swing at Hearst, who parried the blow.
'Yield,' said Hearst.
Alish swore at him.
Then attacked, striking furious blows in a berserker rage. Though Alish had lost one eye, the best Hearst could do was force him to give ground.
That he did.
Hearst started to manoeuvre Alish toward the edge of the cave. He would force Alish to step back into that gulf of air, if that was the only way to end the fight.
'No,' said Alish.
He knew what Hearst was trying to do. Hearst said nothing, but slashed and thrust. 'No,' said Alish, desperate now. 'Yield!' hissed Hearst. 'No!' cried Alish.
They were near the lip of the cave. In the air outside, Hearst saw – what? Distracted, he failed to turn a blow. Alish's blade ripped his sword-arm open. His weapon went flying. Hearst dived sideways, making a desperate attempt to recover his blade, and Alish – Screamed!
Alish screamed like the voice that will scream at the end of the world. His sword fell from his hands and clattered on the rock floor of the cave. Hearst looked up. He saw Alish in the grips of the grapple-hooks of a Neversh. Then the two huge feeding spikes drove home. Alish's body jerked. His mouth gaped open. His whole body shuddered – then was still.
And silent.
Hearst got to his knees and watched as the Neversh carried the body away into the sky. He staggered to his feet, and tottered to the edge of the cave. He almost fell, but steadied himself just in time.
He could not see where the Neversh had gone to.
Helplessly, he began to weep.