Palace of Kings

 

MIKE JEFFERIES 

 

 

King Holbian, the last Granite King of Elundium, is trapped,

siege-locked within the Granite City. He waits in terror,

bravely trying to master his fear of the dark as the black

shadowy Nightbeast army swarms against the walls of his once

beautiful city. Unknown to the King during these desperate

daylights as the great wall crumbles, Thanehand, the candleman'

s son he despatched with a last message to the fortress of

Underfall, has survived his dangerous journey and risen from

humble messenger in the shadows of World's End to lead the

warriors of Underfall to victory on the high plateau of

Mantern's Mountain before the Gates of Night.

 

Krulshards, the Master of Nightbeasts, has fled from

defeat back into the darkness and Thane waits with bated

breath between the black gates, stretching his hand up

towards the owl that hovers with his grandfather's sword held

in its talons. He knows that with that sword in his hand he can

enter the darkness and destroy Krulshards.

 

 

Into the City of Night

 

Thanehand balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, stretching

his hand towards the hovering owl. Laughing, he closed his

fingers around the hilt of his grandfather's sword and took it

easily from Eagle Owl's talons.

 

'Thoron is somewhere beyond the black gates,' he whispered

to the owl. 'But I will find him no matter how thick the

darkness becomes.'

 

Thane turned towards the plateau and lifted his sword to

catch all the evening light, sweeping it in a glittering arc above

his head. The warriors surged forward, a shout of victory on

their lips.

 

'Who will follow me into the darkness?' he cried, taking a

step towards the black marble gates that led into the City of

Night. Behind him an eerie battle silence spread across the

plateau. Thane hesitated and looked back towards the warriors

beneath the standard of the owl in blue and gold and

saw their fear of the dark pass like a shadow across their

faces.

 

'Is there none brave enough to hold my spark while I fight

with the Master of Night to free Thoron?' he shouted.

 

All the Marchers, Gallopers and Archers had shuffled to a

halt, unable to face their fears and look Thanehand in the eye.

Tombel, the greatest Marcher Captain in all Elundium,

shouldered his way through the press of warriors until he

stood before Thane. Lifting his broad Marching sword he

pointed at the body of Amarch, Thoron's warhorse, where

 

1

 

 

-

'

I will lead you, Thane,' rang a clear voice near the black

gates.

 

Tombel spun round and stared in bewilderment at Willow

Leaf, the tunnel slave who had helped to defeat the Nightbeast

army at Battle's End from within the City of Night.

 

'Who in all Elundium ...?' gasped Tombel, his look

passing from Willow's shell-like ears and huge round eyes to

his white, almost transparent, skin.

 

Thane laughed, for a moment forgetting his haste. 'Willow,

come and meet the greatest Lord of the Marchers ever to

cross Elundium.'

 

'The horse at Willow's side is a greater lord than I could

ever be!' said Tombel, admiringly.

 

'He is the Lord of Horses, Equestrius,' Willow replied,

proudly, moving forward to stand before Tombel. 'He is

the greatest warhorse ever to live. He took me back into the

City of Night and helped me to rally my people into a great

army. Together we won the black gates and the beautiful

sunlight.'

 

Then he remembered the old mare, Evening Star, who had

started it all an age ago when the Lord of Horses had served

her while the Nightbeasts slept; and his large eyes grew soft,

filling with a far away look. 'Well, almost the greatest horse

ever to live.'

 

Equestrius snorted, nudging Willow with his head. Tombel

laughed, saying, 'You go too fast for an old Marcher, child.

Start at the beginning, tell me who you are.

 

Thane turned impatiently towards the setting sun. 'Thoron's

life may hang on each word we waste. Let it be enough

for now to know that without Willow and the black warhorse

 

she lay, stabbed to death, before the black gates. He lowered

his eyes and wept.

 

'Dearly would I love to avenge her death and help you to

free your grandfather but without a glimmer of starlight, no

matter how faint, how can I? I fear the dark and I cannot be at

your side, not even to hold the spark.'

 

2

 

you would have found us trampled beneath the Nightbeast

army.' ~

 

'Lord, I will lead you to the very heart of our torment,

through black chambers that are choked with the forgotten

bones of our people. I will guide you to the chamber where

Thoron hangs, but you can only travel that road if you are not

afraid of the dark, for within the City of Night there is a

blackness so complete that you will be lost, even within

yourself, if night holds any fear for you.'

 

Willow turned, grim-faced, towards the warrior army and

called in a loud voice. 'I will take anyone who is not afraid of

the dark.'

 

Thane laughed, moving into the entrance. 'I was born to

the Candlelighter in Candlebane Hall. I fear nothing in the

dark.'

 

'There are no candles in the City of Night,' added Willow.

 

'I will stand by your side,' cried out Kyotorm, a little

nervously. 'The dash to World's End made us brothers. I will

go with you.'

 

Tombel moved close to Thane and whispered, 'My heart

yearns to follow you, but I cannot face the darkness. Forgive

me.'

 

Thane took Tombel's hand and gripped it tightly. 'Oh,

Lord and greatest Marcher Captain, when I came to your

house, a low and humble Candleman's son, you made me

strong with patient hours of teaching. You readied me for this

 

 

task and taught me that we must use the strengths we have.

Your place is here beneath the stars, marshalling day's end

and setting fair the wreck of battle. Wait for us two daylights

on the high plateau. If we have not returned by then, go back

to Underfall and strengthen it against the Master of Darkness.

We are ready to go now.'

 

'There are no candles beneath the mountain to light the

way,' repeated Willow.

 

'Nor were there candles on the road,' answered Thane.

'l~ulcade, chief Loftmaster Owl shall come with us and be my

 

3

 

 

eyes for he can see in the dark.'

 

Esteron, the Warhorse who had carried Thane the length

of Elundium, snorted and pawed the ground. 'Esteron shall

come, for he fears nothing that moves by night.'

 

Kyot hesitated between the great marble portals as a hot

wind blew on his face and cries of terror came out of the dark.

'I cannot come with you into that blackness!'

 

'Take my hand, brother,' Thane whispered as Rockspray

the Battle Owl stooped to Kyot's shoulder and hooted a

challenge at the darkness.

 

Kyot laughed, lifted his hand and caressed the owl's chest

feathers. 'You will be my eyes, great bird of war. Now I can

follow!'

 

Willow passed into the darkness, his eyes widening as the

Mghtshapes closed off the last shades of evening light, and

followed the main highway into the heart of Mantern's

Mountain. 'Take care,' willow whispered, 'for the Nightbeast

armour has poison in the spikes.'

 

They carefully picked their way between the fallen carcasses

that littered and in some places almost blocked their road.

 

'You fought a great battle here in the darkness,' Thane

called out softly to Willow, lighting his spark to find a way

through the heaps of dead.

 

'Put out the light!' hissed Willow. 'I can hear voices far

ahead of us retreating into the high chambers.'

 

4

 

Seeds of Revenge

 

'Curse you, Thanehand!' screamed Krulshards, the Master of

Nightbeasts, withdrawing further into the safety of the City of

Night, forcing a passage through the piles of Mghtbeast dead.

 

'Thanehand!' he snarled, halting between the now lifeless

Gatewatchers and turning to stare hatefully at the figure of

the young warrior standing defiantly between the black gates.

'I know your name, foul Galloperspawn,' he cried, drawing the

battle-torn black malice he wore tightly around his shoulders.

'And I curse the day you crawled out of your mother's belly to

seek my ruin.'

 

Sobbing with rage Krulshards, the Master of Nightmares,

spat at the ground. He looked past Thane at the Marchers

and Gallopers of Elundium crowding towards the gates and

saw the measure of his defeat. The last shadowy mass of his

Nightbeast army was being trampled and overrun by the wild

Warhorses.

 

'Thanehand! Galloper's spawn!' he ground the name of

Hand between his teeth, watching the boy reach up towards

the owl stooping out of the clear evening sky, stretching his

fingers for the long Galloping sword in the owl's talons.

Krulshards struck his fist against the rough tunnel wall and

began to turn towards the secret roads that led to his high

chambers in the centre of the city, far away from the light, but

Thane cried out to the stooping owl, making Krulshards turn

back and lis'Eagle Owl! I am Thanehand, Thoronhand's grandson,

s

 

 

and I have great need of the blade you carry, for Grandfather

is still a prisoner in the City of Night. Lend me the sword, so

that I can rescue him. Please help me.'

 

'Thoron! Thoron!' Krulshards whispered, creeping back

towards the black gates, searching his memory, going through

each and every black chamber of his nightmare city; trymg to

remember where he had chained this Thoron.

 

The owl was shunning Thane's hand, taking the sword up

away from him, casting fear and doubt through the advancing

warriors. Krulshards laughed and cupping his bone black,

skinless fingers to his mouth, called back into the darkness,

summoning the Nightshards he had bred to defend the high

chambers.

 

'Come to me, blind beasts!' he shouted. 'Link your spare

blades and defend me here in the entrance of night. Form a

shadowless circle in the dark while I seek the weakness in this

warrior and find a way to kill him.' ~

 

The Master of Nightmares watched the owl hesitate and

hover above the high plateau. 'Thoron!' he laughed, roughly

pushing aside two of the gathering Nightshards that blocked

his view of the black marble entrance. 'Now I see his

weakness,' he hissed, scratching at his raw grey layers of jaw

muscle where they fused on to the bone.

 

'He seeks to free his blood kin. He seeks to free the ancient

Galloper!' Krulshards laughed again, remembering the

ancient rider he had unhorsed and captured near the black

gates an age ago and hung up for torture in the high domed

chamber deep in the heart of the city. He had almost

forgotten the old Galloper, but now if he was quick he could

spoil Thanehand's victory.

 

'I'll skin him. Peel the strips of skin . . .' Greedy for revenge

Krulshards spun round towards the fastest, darkest road but

stumbled, catching at the broken arrow shaft embedded in his

shoulder.

 

'Curse all Archers!' he screamed, digging his fingernails

between the layers of rotten flesh beneath the black malice,

 

6

 

searching for the arrow-head that Kyotorm had true-aimed at

him during the height of the battle. Closing his fingers around

the broken shaft and screwing his red eyes shut against the

pain he wrenched at the blade, gasping as it tore free.

 

'I will take your eyes for this, Archer, and feed them to my

blind beasts,' he snarled, lifting what he thought was nothing

more than a steel arrow-head to his mouth. Savagely he bit at

it, clamping his jaws together.

 

'No!' he cried, too late as the blade crushed between his

teeth and ground to a fine powder. 'Curse glass arrow-heads

of Clatterford!' he choked as the core of the arrow-head

snapped, releasing a tiny point of sunlight that had long ago

been trapped within the battle blackened glass. It exploded in

a blinding flash of pure white light that burned on his tongue,

etching his foul shadow against the tunnel wall.

 

Krulshards screamed, clutching at his throat as the white

light seared across the roof of his mouth. He staggered

backwards, trying to spit out the light but he fell against the

blind beasts and swallowed the burning flame. Burying his

head in the shadowy folds of the malice he wept as his

new-made shadow leapt up and plunged amongst the circle of

Nightshards.

 

'Curse all light!' he snarled, struggling to his feet and trying

to smother the shadow.

 

'Master' Master!' a harsh voice called out.

 

Krulshards shook his head free from the malice and stared,

blinking, towards the black gates.

 

'Who dares to enter the City of Night?' he hissed, drawing

the long dagger he had used to kill the Warhorse, Amarch, as

he retreated between the gates.

 

 

Heavy, dragging footsteps drew closer. Krulshards put the

dagger blade against his lips and licked at the Warhorse

blood, easing away the bitter taste of the pure sunlight the

arrow-head had left on his tongue.

 

'Master, are you hurt?' the harsh voice cried out. The

footfalls slowed to a shume, and then stopped a few paces

 

7

 

 

from the Nightshards. Blind heads turned, following the

voice.

 

'Quiet, fool!' hissed Krulshards, seeing the bulky, misshapen

form of Kerzolde, his one-eyed, broken-clawed Captain,

just beyond the circle.

 

'What do you bring me, Nightmare, except whispers of

defeat? I saw you attack the Galloperspawn between the gates

and yet you failed to kill him!'

 

Krulshards turned towards the captain, took one giant step

and roughly pulled Kerzolde into the circle beside him.

 

'Master! I bring you news!' cried Kerzolde.

 

'What news, but the victory of the cursed sunlight, fool? I

can see the rout, the destruction, without the help of your

eye. But they shall pay. Every one of them will pay; one by

one, alone and in the dark. I will take their skin, freshstripped,

before their bones grow cold, to make new Nightbeast

armour. None shall escape!'

 

'Master!' Kerzolde begged. 'Elundium is empty. Every

warrior that could lift a sword is beyond the gates. But the

great Nightbeast army you sent against the Granite City is

safe and still unknown to the warriors that have defeated us

here. We must escape and destroy the Granite King while

they rejoice in their victory.'

 

'Escape with this shadow!' hissed Krulshards, pointing at

the dark shape that followed his every movement. 'We must

wait until the cursed light of Clatterford pales, then we shall

enter Elundium, but first we will torture the Galloper hanging

in the high chamber and then throw his corpse out on to the

high plateau.'

 

Kerzolde lifted his broken claw to salute the Master of

Nightbeasts and caught something hanging in the battle tears

of his cloak.

 

Krulshards pointed at the claw. 'What is this?'

 

Kerzolde laughed, holding up the delicate silver finger

bowl he had snatched from Thane's belt as they fought

between the black gates.

 

8

 

/

 

Get

 

'It belonged to the foul Thanehand, Master. I took it, his

treasure, the moment before he-escaped my last hammer

blow.'

 

'Treasure indeed!' whispered the Master of Nightmares,

stretching out a hand to take the finger bowl. It was smooth

and perfectly round im shape, finely blennished from the

purest silver, and yet its touch was as ice in Krulshards' hands

and he recoiled, letting it slip through his fingers and fall to

the ground. It struck the tunnel floor with a clear sweet note

that rang out in the darkness, and rolled into the lower folds

of the malice where they swept across the ground. Bending

quickly, Krulshards chased the silver cup and caught it up in

his fingers by the fine, broken, silver chain. Twitching at the

burning coldness of the chain against his skinless sinews he

lifted it up. He turned it over and over, scratching with his

fingernails at the finely engraved legend that ran around the

lip of the bowl.

 

'Elionbel of Woodsedge, my f nger boreal,' the letters spelt, and

woven into the loops and tails of the letters a new word had

been etched, sharp to the touch.

 

'Thanehand,' Krulshards spat, following the groove with his

fingernails.

 

'Thanehand,' he whispered again, gathering a ball of hot

venom in his mouth and spitting it into the cup. The venom

hissed and bubbled, burning into the silver, staining it black

with hatred.

 

 

'Who is Elionbel?' he cried, turning on Kerzolde.

 

Kerzolde shivered. The Master of Nightmares' hands were

on his throat, his new-made shadow towering over him,

searching for the truth.

 

'Master, she was the . . .' Kerzolde hesitated, choking on

his own lies, feeling the iron grip begin to tighten.

 

'The truth, you fool,' Krulshards hissed. 'I made you in my

image to destroy others, not to lie to me.'

 

'I was afraid, Master,' Kerzolde gurgled. The hand slackened

and allowed him to fall to the ground.

 

9

 

 

'Who is Elionbel?' Krulshards hissed again, pressing the

finger bowl hard against Kerzolde's cheek.

 

'She is Marcher Tombel's daughter, Master,' Kerzolde

wept, clutching at the hem of the malice.

 

'You lied me into ignorance, Captainbeast! You knew of

her ties with the Thanehand and kept it a secret.'

 

'No, Master! I knew nothing of the love between them. I

had captured her as a delicacy for your table.'

 

'The truth!' Krulshards roared, casting back the malice to

expose the raw sinews and rotten flesh of his shadowy body.

'Only the truth.'

 

'Master, it was when you sent us after the messenger who

rode towards the Granite City. We had chased him far across

Elundium and almost overtaken him on the edge of the Black

Forest but he escaped the circle of Nightbeasts we set

against him and sought refuge in the Wayhouse at Woodsedge.

Under cover of darkness, in the eye of a blizzard, we

attacked and sacked the Wayhouse, but the messenger had

gone, his tracks hidden beneath the snow. We killed all the

Marchers we could find and stole Elionbel, Master. I was

afraid to return empty-handed. I was going to bring her to you

for torture, but the foul Galloperspawn, Thanehand, and

Elionbel's father, Tombel, overran us as the sun was rising

and took her back. Great Master, I know nothing more.'

 

'You dared to keep this a secret and lie to me about the

messenger's death?' Krulshards screamed, tearing his fingernails

in deep plough lines across Kerzolde's face. 'In better

times I would have stripped back your armour and thrown

your skinless body on to the high plateau, to die when the sun

rose. But I have some need of you now.'

 

'Master,' Kerzolde cried, crawling forward, 'fear of your

rage made me lie to you. The Galloperspawn has plagued me,

Lord. I could not kill him. He is a true nightmare that follows

me everywhere.'

 

Krulshards turned towards the entrance, licking at his

dagger blade, curling his tongue around it as he looked out

 

10

 

across the battle-strewn plateau. 'You say every warrior in

Elundium was gathered here?' he asked. 'Even Tombel, the

Marcher?'

 

'Yes, Master,' Kerzolde cried, rising to his knees. 'Perhaps

the messenger died in the snow and never reached the

Granite City.'

 

Krulshards turned harshly on his Captainbeast where he

knelt, huddled against the tunnel wall, and pressed the dagger

blade into the coarse hairy skin below his jaw.

 

'You fool,' he hissed. 'The messenger escaped. I know it

now, and he warned the Granite King that my Nightbeasts

were once more loose in Elundium. Why else would the King

have gathered the Marchers, Gallopers and Archers into a

great army. He was weak, terrified of the dark, and strangled

by indecision; but the messenger must have given him

strength and purpose, and the time to march against me.

Unless . . .'

 

Krulshards hesitated, curling his lips back across his

ragged teeth, 'Unless Nevian, the Master of Magic, warned

him.'

 

'But he did not march, great Lord,' Kerzolde whispered.

'He is siege-locked in the Granite City, and nowhere to be

seen on this battlefield.'

 

Krulshards shrank back into his malice, wrapping himself

in dark thoughts.

 

- 'There is a new power in Elundium,' he whispered, turning

his hooded eyes towards the gates. 'It is more powerful than

the Granite King's. And this power does not fear the dark.'

 

'Thanehand, the Galloperspawn!' cried Kerzolde. 'He

 

 

brought the warriors to our doors, following the bright banner

of the sun that he carries.'

 

Krulshards laughed, drawing Kerzolde so close to him that

their foul breaths mixed, filling the tunnel with yellow

sulphurous fumes.

 

'Captainbeast,, he whispered, 'you have stumbled on the

truth, blindly. He is the one I must destroy, and you have

 

11

 

 

brought me his weakness. This foul finger-bowl will be his

undoing, and in time will lure him alone, into the darkness.'

 

'How, Master?' Kerzolde asked in a nervous voice.

 

'How?' laughed the Master of Nightbeasts. 'NVhy, you shall

lead me to the Wayhouse on the edge of Maritern~s Forest,

and there I will steal the fair Elionbel, and bairn her back [

the City of Night. She will be my lure. But first we will spoil

Thanehand's victory. Come quickly, follow me into the high

chambers where I hung that ancient Galloper, for he is

another weakness in Thanehand, and I think the most trivial

reason for the great army massing at our gates. Magicians arid

messengers had nothing to do with this battle.'

 

Krulshards spat at the ground and laughed. 'Victory will pe

a skinless corpse to carry home. Thanehand, and ruin arid

disaster will meet your every footstep. For I shall go before

you, burning and destroying all you hold deal.,

 

Breathlessly Krulshards ran along the darkened narrow

roads that led into the domed chamber where Thoronhand

hung, suspended by two iron chains from a giant stake driven

into the rough chamber roof.

 

'Thoronhand!' he hissed, prodding at the ancient warriors

dangling feet, cutting easily into the ruined leather of his

riding boots with a spear blade he had snatched from one of

the Nightshards, and sending him spinning giddily in the

darkness.

 

'I bring you news, Thoron,' he mocked, landing up the

silver finger bowl above his head.

 

'Battle's end has now come and I have a hard won trophy to

show you, cut from your dead grandson's hand. Look! Look,

foul Galloper, for all is lost in the battle before my gates, and

all those who gathered to take you back into the light have

perished. The sun is setting over the ruin, Thoron, casting

long shadows from where they lie, piled high ire carrion heaps

for an age of Nightbeasts' feasts.'

 

Krulshards laughed cruelly, shaking the dead locks of

twisted hair he had plaited across the top of his head.

 

12

 

'.

 

1

 

A.;.

 

'Listen, Warrior,' he whispered. 'Listen to the silence of

your defeat. Listen to the darkness, Thoronhand. You are the

last warrior in all Elundium, and the sun will never rise for

you again.'

 

Krulshards unsheathed his skinning hook, wetting the

blade with his tongue.

 

'What say you now, Warrior?' he hissed, drawing the

Nightshards into a circle around the dangling prisoner.

 

Thoron lifted his ancient head and stared down at the

Master of Nightbeasts, catching a glimmer of the faint rays of

sunlight that shone out beneath the malice. Throwing his

head back he let a shout of laughter fall from his cracked and

dirty lips. 'Rumour is a poor truth, Nightmare. Look to your

cloak, for that tells of real day's end. What is it you hide

beneath that foul black rag? Is it arrow-lights from Clatterford,

or ruin before the Gates of Night?'

 

'Truth! This is the truth!' screamed Krulshards, wrapping

the weakening sunlight within the folds of the malice and

thrusting the finger bowl up into Thoron's face, catching the

fine silver chain in the straggly ends of the old man's beard.

 

'There are few in all Elur~dium who could remember the

Crystal Maker of Clatterford and his foul glass arrow-heads,'

hissed the Nightbeast, 'but one lucky strike does not win a

battle or speak of victory. Read the names upon the bowl,

Thoronhand, and then see who speaks the truth of battle's

end!'

 

 

Thoron narrowed his eyes and traced each letter, spelling

out the words written on the bowl. 'Thane!' he whispered,

remembering the young lad, imagining him clearly in the

darkness sitting astride the great Warhorse, Amarch, with

Battle Owls perching on his shoulders. Thoron let his head

fall forward.

 

'Thane!' he whispered again, only this time fiercely,

squeezing back the tears, gathering his failing courage.

Proudly he lifted his head and stared into Krulshards' hooded

eyes.

 

13

 

 

'Nightmare!' he whispered. 'One look from you, the Master

of Nightmares, is rumoured to kill a man, and one shout to

turn him deaf, but I do not fear you, not even now, at the end.

You are nothing but a stench that spoils the air. A creeping

darkness that hides from the light.'

 

Thoron sobbed bitterly, shaking the chains that bound his

wrists. 'I have nothing to fear from you, Nightmare. You have

already destroyed everything I love.'

 

'All dead!' laughed Krulshards. 'Warhorses, Owls, Border

Hounds and all the warriors of Elundium, and between the

gates of this beautiful city lies your blood kin. Here, smell his

blood on my blade. Taste it before it dries.'

 

Thoron shuddered, turning his head away from the dagger.

 

'But Elionbel, she lives!' whispered the Master of Nightmares. '

And she will be mine, taken in victory as I sweep

across Elundium, destroying the light.'

 

'Elionbel?' Thoron cried, turning his face back towards

Krulshards, remembering her; fair, gentle Elionbel of

Woodsedge. 'Take my life, but spare hers!'

 

Krulshards laughed, reaching up with the curved skinning

hook and piercing the leathery wrinkled skin beneath Thoron'

s chin.

 

'I already have your life, Thoronhand. You are nothing

here in the darkness but a lost moment from the sunlight

world of Elundium. You are helpless and alone.'

 

Thoron gurgled, feeling the sharp edge of the hook touch

his jaw bone, and flinched against the pain. Suddenly he cried

out, 'Fly, great bird of war. Escape into the dying hours of

sunlight. Fly!'

 

Krulshards hesitated, letting his hand slip from the handle

of the hook. Spinning round he snarled, 'Who has dared to

enter the darkness?'

 

Thoron laughed, choking against the curve of the hook and

watched the dark shape of Silverwing spread his wings to

stoop. Silent and unseen in the darkness above Thoron's

head, the owl had waited, turning his aged head from side to

 

14

 

side, catching every tiny sound in the chamber. Now he was

ready and knew where each beast stood. Blindly he stared

down at the Master of Darkness and flexed his talons to

strike.

 

Kerzolde pointed into the domed roof with his broken claw.

'There, Master, above Thoron's head. I can see the white

eyes. Look!'

 

Krulshards looked up, unhooding his eyes to stare the owl

to death, but Silverwing, blind to the look, stooped at the

Nightmare's face, tearing his razor-sharp talons across the

raw, unguarded flesh. Krulshards staggered backwards,

screaming as the owl's strike cut into his face. Thrusting

upwards with both hands he drove the dagger deep into the

owl's chest.

 

Running footsteps echoed in the high domed chamber,

drawn on by Kerzolde's warning shout as he leapt to defend

the entrance. Blind beasts stumbled into each other in the

rising tide of sound. Thoron kicked with both feet at Krulshards,

catching his boots in the malice.

 

'I am not alone, Nightmare,' he cried, 'Listen! Listen!'

 

'Run! Run!' hissed Willow, urging Thane to follow him. 'The

Master of Nightbeasts has your grandfather's life in his

hands.'

 

'How many Nightbeasts?' Thane asked, running hard to

keep pace with Willow, stumbling against unseen faults in the

tunnel floor.

 

'Many!' Willow replied, suddenly disappearing into a black

void on Thane's left. Thane hesitated and Kyot collided into

 

 

him, dropping his father's bow.

 

'Curse this darkness,' he muttered, feeling gingerly in the

gritty marble dust for the weapon.

 

'Is this what you seek?' Thane asked, holding it up. 'You

can see in the dark!' exclaimed Kyot, feeling along the length

of the bow for any damage to the oiled wood.

 

'A little,' Thane replied, turning into the black entrance

 

15

 

 

Willow had taken. The narrow tunnel spiralled upwards,

well marked with Nightbeast claw prints. The air was

hot and stifling, filling their noses with the stench of rotten

flesh.

 

'Nightmares,' Willow whispered, halting for a moment to

sniff the air. 'We are close to them now.'

 

'Did you use tills tunnel to escape from the darkness?'

Thane asked, keeping his voice to a whisper.

 

'No!' Willow replied, 'Our route was by old, long-forgotten

roads, dug by my grandelders. Look at this tunnel floor. This

was a well-used road before the bathe.'

 

'But will it lead us to where Thoron hangs?' Thane asked.

 

Willow smiled in the darkness, and replied, 'Smell She air,

Thane.'

 

Thane wrinkled his nose against the stench of rotting flesh.

It had grown stronger the higher they had climbed and was

now making him feel dizzy.

 

'This stench is far worse than any Nightbeast I have ever

smelt,' he choked. 'It is even worse than She Nightmare,

Kerzolde, and he smelt bad enough.'

 

Willow laughed. 'It is the smell of death. It is the smell of

Krulshards, the Master of Nightbeasts, and he is the most

terrifying and powerful beast chat ever walked in Elundium.

Do not look into his eyes, or listen to his voice, for he will

blind you and send you mad with deafness.'

 

'How can I fight against him?' Thane hissed, gripping

Willow's arm.

 

'First you must tread on his shadow. The Elder told me in

his last death ratde chat to tread on the Master of Nightbeasts'

shadow traps him, frozen, for the killing stroke.'

 

'But he is shadowless in the dark!' Thane cried.

 

'And all-powerful, beyond man's power to kill,' Willow

whispered.

 

Thane ran his finger along the cutting edge of Thoron's

sword, feeling helpless at She task ahead. Esteron nickered

softly, nudging Thane's shoulder, and Mulcade hooted in the

 

16

 

darkness. Thane laughed, 'We are more than men, Willow.

Lead us to tills Nightmare.'

 

Willow moved forward again, crouching against the tunnel

wall. The voice ahead of them had grown louder, almost to

shouting pitch.

 

'Quickly,' Willow cried, 'Krulshards is going to kill your

grandfather! Run! Run!'

 

The tunnel turned a sharp corner and came to an abrupt

end in the high-domed chamber. Thoron hung in the centre

of the chamber, kicking wildly at Krulshards, his feet tangled

in the malice. The dark shape of an owl, hooked by its talons

on to Krulshards' face, beat its wings, shrieking as the

Nightbeast plunged a black-bladed dagger into its chest.

Blind beasts in a circle around Thoron Thrust their spears at

his struggling body.

 

'Nigh/shards!' Willow cried, cowering in the entrance of

the chamber. 'They were in the Elders' stories. Only light can

harm them in the darkness, or penetrate Heir armour!'

 

The Nightshards had turned as one towards the sound of

Willow's voice, and his words were lost beneath their snarling

screams. Slowly they advanced, step by step, spears Thrusting,

on the entrance.

 

Thane leapt into the chamber, plunging his sword at the

closest beast, but the blade turned harmlessly against its

armour. Ducking beneath the Thrusting spear he struck again,

a slashing stroke chat sent up a shower of bright sparks in the

 

 

darkness as the blade bounced off the Nightshard's arm.

Thane's hand burned with numbness from tile force of a

stroke and he quickly stepped back into the entrance.

 

'Thanehand!' Krulshards screamed, tearing the owl from

his face and throwing it to the floor. The Nightshards had

broken the circle around Thoron and now filled the entrance

of the chamber. Rage dribbled from their mouths and jagged

spears were raised to kill Thane. Esteron reared, Thrashing

with his forelegs at the Nightshards' armour. Thane drew his

dagger, that Duclos the swordsman had given him, and

 

17

 

 

ducking beneath Esteron's hooves he slashed helplessly at the

Nightmare shapes that towered over them. Mulcade stooped

at the Nightshards' faces, ripping at their eyes, but his talons

only screeched across their smooth, blind faces.

 

'Grandfather!' Thane cried, as he lost his footing and

slipped beneath the leading Nightshard, the beast's spearblade

now a handspan from his heart.

 

Suddenly a rushing wind filled the entrance, passing so

close to Thane's shoulder that he felt it touch his face, and

something carried by the wind forced the Nightshard back,

sending his spear harmlessly into the ground beside Thane's

head. A blinding flash of light filled the chamber, then

another and another, each one killing a Nightbeast as it

exploded, sending them crashing to the floor. Krulshards

screamed, covering his face with his malice against the flashes

of light and reached up, scrambling wildly with outstretched

fingers for the skinning hook.

 

'They will not find you alive, foul Galloper,' he spat at the

old man, gripping the handle of his hook and pulling hard at

Thoron's throat. Thoron struggled desperately as the blade

tore through the muscles below his jaw. Kicking with all his

strength at Krulshards' bone black fingers he toppled the

Master of Nightmares, sending him stumbling backwards to

trip over the body of Silverwing where it lay on the chamber

floor. Thoron screamed as the hook tore free, his head

slumping forwards. Darkness closed about him, shutting out

the pain.

 

'Thane,' he gurgled, his mouth falling uselessly open.

 

Krulshards sprang quickly to his feet, clutched at Thoron's

limp and lifeless legs and spun him once.

 

'He is dead, Master!' Kerzolde cried, jumping between two

Nightshards still defending the chamber and swinging his

hammer at Thane. Krulshards looked from his weakening

shadow to his dying blind beasts and grabbed Kerzolde by his

iron collar. ,

 

'We must escape,' he hissed, 'before that Archer of

 

18

 

Clatterford strengthens my shadow with his foul blades of

glass. Quickly, come! There are secret roads where even the

Galloperspawn will not dare to follow us.'

 

'Master, I follow!' Kerzolde cried, disappearing into a low

entrance on the far side of the chamber, running at the heels

of the Master of Nightbeasts into the bowels of the mountain,

where night grew thick enough to touch and tasted bitter on

the tongue.

 

Thane had watched Krulshards attack his grandfather but

was powerless to help him. Whatever was killing the Nightshards

was travelling in the rushing wind passing just above

his head. Carefully he turned, rolling on to his stomach, and

saw the great Bow of Orm in Kyot's hand, the string still

singing softly from the last arrow-shaft to touch it. Glancing

back into the chamber he saw the floor littered with the

Nightshards' tangled bodies.

 

'You overcame the darkness!' Thane whispered, rising to

his knees.

 

'No!' replied Kyot. 'Rockspray took each arrow out of the

quiver; he guided my hands and became my eyes. He really is

a mighty bird of war!'

 

Thane laughed, rising to his feet. 'And the Armourers of

Stumble Hill must have great skill with the hammer to forge

such arrow-heads, for each one brought sunlight into the

darkness. I clearly saw Krulshards' shadow.'

 

Kyot frowned, and moving forwards, turned over the

nearest Nightshard, pulled out the arrow-shaft and examined

it.

 

'These arrows are not from Stumble Hill,' he exclaimed,

passing the charred shaft to Thane. 'We have great skill to

forge steel arrow-heads but these are made of glass!'

 

 

Kyot reached into his quiver, withdrew the remaining

arrows and passed them to Thane. 'These arrows were made

at Stumble Hill; look how the Armourer forged the fine steel

points, but I do not know who made the glass arrow-heads, or

why Rockspray chose them out of the quiver. My father gave

 

19

 

 

me the quiver ready-loaded just before I left the tower of

Stumble Hill. All he said before we took to the Greenway was

"Use each one sparingly, for there are none to match them in

all Elundium." '

 

Thane frowned, passing the arrows back to Kyot, 'Well,

whoever made them, they had a great power in the darkness,

but do not forget it is in the arm that pulls the string that the

greatness lies.'

 

Willow called out urgently, 'Hurry, Thoron is wounded.'

 

Thane, with Mulcade on his shoulder, Kyot with Rockspray

on his, and Esteron, followed Willow into the highdomed

chamber and stood below Thoron's dangling boots.

Slowly he turned in the icy draught of mountain air, warm

drops of blood dripping from the gaping wound in his neck.

 

'Grandfather,' Thane whispered, reaching up to touch the

old man's boots, but they were beyond his reach.

 

'Do you think he is still alive?' asked Kyot, feeling the blood

splash on his face as he looked up into the darkness.

 

'It is safe to light your spark now,' Willow said, turning to

Thane.

 

Thane lit the spark and handed it to Kyot. Esteron

whinnied softly and knelt for Thane to climb on to the saddle.

Thane held on with both hands as Esteron rose to his feet,

and then balanced on tiptoe and tried to listen for his

grandfather's heartbeat. Thoron's beard had grown into a

thick and tangled mess, full of half-eaten scraps of food that

were stiff and greasy to the touch. Gingerly Thane gathered

the beard in his left hand and cut it away just below the chin,

and putting his ear to the old man's chest, he listened and

heard in the night's silence a faint heartbeat.

 

'He is still alive,' he whispered, feeling tears of joy well up

in his eyes.

 

'Quick, bind the wound in his neck before he bleeds to

death,' Kyot called. 'Use the scarfs'

 

Thane let the dirty beard fall to the ground and untied the

summer scarf from his arm. It had become his banner of light

 

20

 

in the shadows of World's End, somehow catching and

holding the sunlight, and even here in the darkness the words

of love that Elionbel had sewn into the silk shone and

sparkled.

 

'Elionbel,' Thane whispered, lifting his grandfather's head

and carefully wrapping the scarf across the gaping wound.

Thoron's blood quickly soaked into the silk, turning the

picture of the sun bright red and it seemed almost as if it were

glowing in the dark.

 

Willow gasped, looking at the bright colours in the scarf,

'The sun has come into the City of Night!'

 

'That scarf has great powers,' Kyot muttered, gripping the

spark to stop his hand from shaking.

 

'No!' Thane whispered fiercely. 'It is my mother's summer

scarf. I took it from her at our parting. If it shines at all it is

because it reflects her love of the sunlight, for she wove it in

the shadows of the great wall that rings the Granite City.' The

anger in Thane's voice ebbed away as he whispered, 'She did

not dabble in magic.'

 

Kyot bit his tongue, wishing he had kept his thoughts to

himself. There was something about the scarf, something

magical, that made it shine. He had seen it during the battle,

catching all the glories of the sun, and driving back the

Mghtbeasts' shadows. Sighing, he quickly changed the subject.

He pointed at Thoron's wrists and asked how they were

going to cut through the chains to get him down. Thane

examined the iron shackles and saw that the lock was a simple

iron bolt, rusty with age, that passed through two crudelyhammered

flanges on either side of the shackles.

 

 

'Two hammer blows should break open these chains,' he

answered, searching the chamber floor for something heavy

enough to use.

 

'Will this do?' Willow called from the far side of the

chamber, holding up the mace that Kerzolde had dropped as

he fled at Krulshards' heels.

 

Thane took the long-handled hammer and struck a sharp

 

21

 

 

blow at the shackle on Thoron's left wrist. The force of the

blow sent the iron pin flying across the chamber and the

shackle broke in two, releasing Thoron's arm and sending

him spinning against Thane, knocking him off the saddle on

to the chamber floor. Esteron knelt again for Thane to climb

back into the saddle.

 

'Let me help you,' willow called out, springing lightly on to

the saddle beside Thane and steadying the old man's legs.

Thane swung the hammer again and broke open the second

shackle. Thoron slumped into his grandson's arms and

Thane gently lowered him into the saddle.

 

'We must get him to the Healer's,' he urged, putting his ear

to the old man's chest again. The heartbeat was weaker now,

and stumbling erratically.

 

'What of Krulshards?' Willow asked. 'He is escaping

through the lower roads. I would lead you down into the heart

of the mountain following his voice. But we must go now!'

 

Thane hesitated, looking from the low entrance where

Willow waited on his answer back to the tunnel that led to the

black gates and the late evening sunlight.

 

'I must follow the Nightmare, Grandfather,' he whispered,

taking the old man's fragile hand into his. 'I saw the light

beneath the malice and I dare not lose this moment to tread

on his shadow and rid all Elundium of his terror.'

 

'The warriors are waiting for us, Thane,' whispered Kyot,

fearing to follow another darker road. 'It would seal a great

victory to take your grandfather out of the darkness,' he

urged.

 

'But the Nightbeast had a shadow. I saw it!' cried Thane,

'It followed him through that black entrance!'

 

'Hurry,' urged Willow. 'Their footsteps are growing ever

fainter.'

 

Thane twisted around, biting on his knuckles and took half

a step.

 

'Thoron will die without the Healer's hand,' hissed Kyot,

catching hold of Thane's sleeve. 'Is that what you crossed

 

22

 

Elundium for, to leave him in the dark?'

 

'All Elundium will be covered in darkness if the Master of

Nightbeasts escapes!' cried Willow.

 

Thane turned, his mind torn in two. He knelt to gather up

Silverwing's lifeless body into his arms. 'What would you have

done, brave Battle Owl?' he whispered in despair. 'Which

road would you have taken?'

 

'All roads will be dark and dangerous if Krulshards lives,'

cried out Willow. 'Hurry before your victory on the high

plateau turns against you.'

 

'I know I should follow the Nightmare, but I cannot,' cried

Thane wretchedly. 'I cannot let Grandfather die!'

 

'Fools!' cried Willow, thrusting the broken splinter of steel

he used as a dagger back into his belt. 'If I was half the warrior

you are, Thanehand, I would follow Krulshards and rid

Elundium of his foul darkness, but I cannot do it alone.'

 

'Forgive me,' cried Thane, wringing his hands. 'But to have

found Grandfather alive was beyond my wildest dreams.'

 

'One life against so many,' muttered Willow, turning his

back on Krulshards' fading footsteps. 'He will haunt us all, I

know it.'

 

Tombel had paced a thousand steps between the Gates of

Night as the evening light faded. Battle's end had come

quickly and the Nightbeasts' carcasses were piled high in

great mounds waiting for a burning torch to set them alight.

Tombel saw movement inside the gates. Someone was

emerging.

 

 

First Willow and then Thane walked out of the darkness.

Tombel laughed with relief and gave the signal to light the

giant Nightbeast piles.

 

'Thane!' he shouted, silhouetted against the streams of

crackling sparks that floated up into the darkening sky, 'You

have rescued Thoron! Is he still alive?'

 

Thane hurried on to the plateau and carefully laid Thoron

beside Amarch's cold body.

 

23

 

 

'Call for the Healer!' he begged, unclasping his cloak and

casting it across his grandfather's body to keep out the night

chills.

 

Thoron shivered and slowly opened his eyes. Above him

stretched a limitless sky, sewn with a thousand pale stars.

 

'Thane,' he whispered, searching the dark shapes that

stood around him.

 

Thane knelt, taking the old man's hand into his. 'Sleep,

Grandfather, you are safe now, beyond the Nightmares'

reach. I have sent for the Healer.'

 

'Thane,' croaked the old man, trying to rise, 'has Krulshards . . . ?'

the blood gurgled in his throat, making him

choke.

 

Gently Thane eased him back on to the ground. 'Amarch

came to your rescue, Grandfather, she chased the Master of

Nightbeasts to the very Gates of Night. She is here at your

side.'

 

Thoron slowly turned his head and looked into her soft

eyes. Death had clouded them and age had whitened her

muzzle.

 

'Amarch,' he whispered, large tears forming in the corners

of his eyes.

 

'She was the first into battle,' Thane whispered. 'She led us

to victory!'

 

Slowly Thoron lifted his hand and closed her eyes. Tears

were running down his face and his shoulders shook with

grief.

 

'She was the bravest Warhorse in all Elundium,' sang out

the musical voice of Duclos the Swordsman, and he came

forward and knelt beside Thoron, putting his hand on the

old man's shoulder.

 

'A hanging basket of the sweetest lucerne grass will be set

in the gardens of Gildersleeves in her memory.'

 

'And Sprint, the Archers' mount, shall run in her memory

carrying a quiver of silver-tipped arrows,' whispered Kyot,

kneeling beside Duclos and blinking back his tears.

 

24

 

'Then in memory of her greatness let us weave tales in the

firelight, of all she did,' said Tombel, bringing Willow to

kneel beside Thane.

 

'Tombel!' Thoron whispered, hearing his old friend's

voice, and looking up from face to face. 'If tales of memory are

threaded through the firelight then they must also tell of

Silverwing who once rode to war on my shoulders, for he cast

aside the cloak of a blind beggar and rose up to be the

mightiest Lord of Owls in the darkness of the City of Night.'

 

Lowering his voice to little more than a sob he continued,

'He found me in the dark following rumours through a wild

and dangerous land, long after all the other owls had come to

my rescue with dead mice and stalks of grass for me to eat. He

came, searching blindly, flapping damaged wings against the

tunnel walls, to take up a lonely station in the mountain's

heart, and guarded me with his life.'

 

'He is beside you, Grandfather,' Thane said. 'I brought his

body out of that black place and laid him in great honour

beside Amarch.'

 

Mulcade stooped to Thane's shoulder, hooting proudly as

he looked down with sadness at his father's cold and lifeless

body. Equestrius, the Lord of Horses, raised his head, calling

out to the stars, the Border Runners howled and all the owls

hooted in a chorus, while the warriors of Elundium talked

until the grey hours touched the sky. They talked of the

braveness and the beauty that they should never see again.

 

All night long the great mounds of Nightbeasts burned and

crackled, sending sparks drifting across the high plateau.

 

 

Tombel called Willow to sit beside him, and while the Healer

tended Thoron's wounds he listened to the boy's story,

marvelling at the young man's courage and the quiet dignity

of a people stolen by the Nightmare, Krulshards, and kept for

time beyond counting from the light.

 

'And you know nothing of where you came from? Whether

there were mountains, forests or streams?' asked Tombel,

looking across the plateau to where Willow's people had

 

25

 

 

agathered around a Mghtbeast pyre. As one they were gazing

up at the stars, their eyes shining with delight.

 

'Nevian, Master of Magic and Lord of the Daylight, he came

into the City of Night and found my grandelder, Leaf, and gave

him a tiny point of light, and with that light he showed him all

the beautiful things above the ground in Elundium. Even our

names came from that meeting,' Willow replied.

 

Tombel sighed, vowing in his heart that a place would be

found for these strange people with their shell-shaped ears and

large round eyes. A safe place, in the sunlight, somewhere in

Elundium.

 

Thane left the fire and the talk of darkness beneath

Mantern's Mountain, and walked to the edge of the high

plateau. Behind him, around each bonfire, rose the murmur of

victory, but in his heart he knew that this was a long way from

the truth. Far below in the darkness one lamp shone out

brilliant white.

 

'Underfall!' he whispered, smiling as he remembered how he

had first seen the great fortress of World's End rising up out of

the morning mist, clinging on to the mountain's bleak shoulders,

all those daylights ago.

 

'What troubles you, Thane?'Tombel quietly asked, moving to

stand beside him.

 

'Krulshards lives,' Thane replied. 'I had the chance to follow

and to kill him, or to choose to rescue my grandfather.'

 

Tombel put his hand on Thane's arm. 'Choices are never

easy, Thane,' he whispered.

 

Far below a great cry shook the mountainside and the lamp

on the highest gallery of Underfall flickered and went out.

 

'By Nevian! What has happened?' Tombel cried, drawing his

Marching sword.

 

'Underfall is under attack!' Thane shouted. 'Krulshards has

escaped into Elundium! I know it! I am the fool who chose:

wrongly!'

 

'But he will never be able to break into Underfall. It is the

 

26

 

Palace of Kings, built against the Master of Nightmares!' cried

Tiethorm, the First Archer of Underfall.

 

Below, a terrible booming sound shook the mountain's roots.

Twice it sounded, drawing all the warriors to the plateau's edge.

 

'Fomm the Gallopers into a column,' Thane shouted, 'and

follow us with the Marchers as quickly as you can.'

 

Tombel gripped Thane's amm and pointed with his sword

down into the darkness. 'Look, the great lamp has been relit!'

 

'But it does not shine as before; it is weak against the

darkness,' Kyot mused. 'Something terrible has happened there.'

 

Tombel raised his hands and shouted for silence. 'Warriors,'

he called against the panic.

 

Thane looked down at the broken lamps burning feebly

below. 'Nowhere is safe now!'

 

'Warriors!' Tombel shouted again, demanding order across

the high plateau. Thane turned towards him and thought of

Tombel's house, the Wayhouse at Woodsedge, and Elionbel,

the beautiful Elionbel. His hand moved to his belt to touch her

gift, the silver finger bowl, but his hand found only the broken

silver chain.

 

'Elionbel!' he cried, spinning round and feeling in all of his

pockets, but the chain was broken, the last link on his belt

twisted out of shape by the wrench of Kerzolde's claw.

 

'Kerzolde!' he whispered, remembering how the Nightmare

had leapt on him in the dark entrance, wrestling him to the

ground. Thane felt Tombel's iron grip shake him and heard his

 

 

voice shouting him back out of his memories.

 

'Thane! Thane! What is it? Why do you stare at the black

gates?'

 

Thane shook his head, 'They have her bowl,' he cried. 'They

have her finger bowl. She sent it to me as a love gift with the

messenger, Errant.'

 

Tombel leapt back a pace, his knuckles whitening on the hilt

of his Marching sword as he turned the blade point-first

 

27

 

 

ainto the soft skin just below the angle of Thane's jaw. 'There

were moments in the battle before the Gates of Night as we

fought side by side when I thought that you had grown

beyond your base beginnings, Candleman, and my heart was

warming towards you. 8ut now I should kill you for taking my

daughter's love token into battle.'

 

Tombel slowly levelled the sword and blinked away the tears

that blurred his eyes. 'I forbade it!' he cried, turning to where

Thoron lay. 'I pledged her to turn away from Thane, and I was

right, for he is not bloodworthy of her. Yet she broke her

honour pledge and disobeyed me and now the Master of Night

knows her name, he will take her, Thoron, he will take her in

revenge. What do you say to that?'

 

Thoron weakly lifted his hand and pointed a shaking finger

at Thane: 'You took comfort from the cold in the Wayhouse at

Woodsedge; you took everything that was offered, and it was

gladly given, and yet you, my grandson, the treasure of our

house, you took Elionbel's heart out into the darkness. Why, oh

why?'

 

Thane took a step towards Thoron, spreading his empty

hands. 'She did not break her honour pledge, Grandfather,' he

replied bitterly, seeing clearly now the coldness of his last few

days at Woodsedge, understanding Tombel's haste for him to

continue his journey to World's End and the great fortress at

Underfall. Lifting his head, he met Tombel's gaze and held it.

 

'I stole nothing, Grandfather, for nothing seemed to be

withheld from me. I did not know that Tombel was against my

love for Elionbel or that I should leave the finger bowl within

the safety of Underfall.'

 

'Ignorance is no excuse, Thane,' answered Thoron in an

angry voice.

 

'Behind my back like whispering thieves in the night,' i hissed

Tombel, pushing Thane aside.

 

'No, no!' cried Thane. 'She never spoke one word of her ;^ love

for me and each time I would have talked of it she

 

28

 

pressed a finger to my lips. She kept her pledge, but with her

crippled hands, in silent needlepoint, she embroidered her

passion on to my summer scarf. Look!'

 

Thane ducked quickly beneath Tombel's angry hand and

knelt beside his grandfather. He lifted up the summer scarf from

where the Healer had laid it on the grass and it shone and

sparkled, reflecting the starlight from the fine gold and silver

threads chat Elionbel had woven.

 

Tombel took the scarf and slowly read each word, seeing in

the careful stitches a story of love that shone brighter than

the daylight and it burned his fingers to touch it. Dropping the

scarf back into Thane's hands he knelt beside Thoron and took

hold of the ancient Galloper's hand.

 

'I love you, Thoron, as a brother,' he whispered. 'For we were

battle close and once, in better times, used the same shadow,

but to tie my blood to yours now chat the Nightmare knows of

Elionbel's name, chat is beyond any love.'

 

Thoron nodded, tears of shame and sorrow wetting his

wrinkled cheeks. 'You have lost much, perhaps everything, dear

friend, to rescue a wordlless fool from the darkness.'

 

Tombel lifted his head and stared out past the brightburning

pyres of Nightbeasts into the dark, limidess sky. 'I came not to

free you, friend - I knew nodling of your plight but on King

Holbian's orders to strengthen Underfall. I was against such a

march and would with each step we took have turned back to

break the siege lock chat the Nightbeasts have ringed around

the Granite City. But I am not a pledge breaker and I followed

the path set for me to these very Gates of Night.'

 

'Honour has played you hard and cruel with no reward, but

the Nightmare is free to plunder Woodsedge and terrorize all

Elundium,' whispered Thoron. 'Perhaps in some small part I am

to blame, perhaps if Thane had kept on the Nightmare's heels .

. .'

 

 

'Would you rather I had left you to die?' cried Thane in

anguish, "athering Esteron's reins ready to mount.

 

29

 

 

'No! No!' answered Tombel quickly, rising and putting his

hand on Esteron's bridle. 'Much as I may curse you for the

finger bowl, every warrior here on the high plateau would

have made your choice in the City of Night and brought

Thoron out into the light.'

 

'But I am to blame for the Nightmare knowing Elionbel's

name. It was my choice chat set him free. Bloodworthy or not I

will follow Krulshards and destroy him, and win back what

litde honour I can in your eyes, for I love your daughter and

one daylight would beg you for her hand.'

 

'Ask not for Elionbel's hand, or ever let her name slip past

your lips again, for now she will fall beneath the Nightmare's

shadow where none can save her.'

 

'I will outrun ~he Nightmare,' shouted Thane, setting his

foot into Esteron's stirrup and springing lightly into the

saddle. 'Give me room to chase Krulshards!'

 

Tombel laughed bitterly, releasing the bridle. 'You cannot

catch the Master of Nightbeasts. He can outrun a shadow as it

crosses the moon.'

 

'Esteron is a Lord amongst the Warhorses and he can

outrun the wind,' cried Thane, spurring him forward.

 

'Halt!' cried Thoron, his fragile voice cutting through the

night air. 'Beware chat your love for Elionbel does not blind

your purpose, for there is more at stake than a loving cup. All

Elundium totters on the brink of darkness now chat Krulshards

is loose. Destruction and death will shadow every road

he takes.'

 

Thane halted, turned and rode back to where his grandfather

lay. 'I must hasten to put right all my wrongs and reach

Woodsedge before Krulshards and take Elion....'

 

'Easy, be easy,' whispered Thoron, beckoning Thane to

dismount. You must take.counsel before choosing such a wild

and dangerous road. Even Tombel, I am sure, would agree to

chat!'

 

Tombel nodded gravely, pointing his hand towards the

warriors spread out across the plateau. 'Whatever stands

 

30

 

.

 

..

l

 

between us, Thane, you are a leader of men. Strikes of

Archers and whole squadrons of Gallopers stand poised to

follow you. Think carefully which way the wind blows before

you move.'

 

Thane looked steadily into Tombel's eyes. 'What of Elionbel?

How will chat matter stand between us if I stay here on

the high plateau and follow counsel to take a different road?'

 

Tombel bowed his head, remembering Elionbel's soft

touch and her gende voice. Blinking away his tears he looked

up and caught sight of the summer scarf, re-tied to Thane's

armoured arm. It fluttered in the chill night breezes, her

stitches sparkling in the darkness. 'Although I am against it

and it darkens my heart, I see that a great love is between you.

Let it be enough that when Krulshards is dead and the siege

of the Granite City is over, then we shall talk again.'

 

Thane gripped Tombel's a~n and offered up the hilt of his

sword. 'I will be bloodworthy yet, my Lord, and rid Elundium

of Krulshards' foul shadow. That much I promise!'

 

'First you must bury your warrior dead, or the carrion

crows will pick their bones clean before the new sun reaches

noon,' interrupted Thoron, his hand gently caressing

Amarch's cold muzzle.

 

Thane frowned and looked beyond the Nightbeast pyres

and saw for the first time the rows of battle dead: warriors,

Warhorses, Border Runners and Battle Owls laid ready for

burial.

 

 

'So many brave hearts,' he whispered, seeing the price of

victory.

 

'Walk with me,' he asked, drawing Tombel towards the

rows of battle dead, 'and tell me each and every warrior's

name that marched or galloped beneath the standard of the

owl, that I may never forget who came when hope was gone

and who brought evening sunshine beneath the Nightbeasts'

shadows.'

 

Tombel frowned, gripping the hilt of his sword. 'There is

tragedy in this victory, Thane, for it will take us two daylights

 

31

 

 

to bury our dead before we can chase Krulshards and by then

he will be far ahead of us, destroying and shadowing all that is

beautiful in Elundium.'

 

'Let us help you, Lord Tombel,' Willow called, leading his

people to where Thane and Tombel stood. 'My people have

great skill with the pick and shovel and it would be an honour

to serve you here in the light. Just show us where to dig.'

 

Tombel frowned as he lifted Willow up, 'Your people have

suffered great hurts and I would not add to them by having

you serve me or any Marcher on this battlefield. Today you

have won your freedom and all Elundium waits to show you

its beauty.'

 

'Freedom!' Willow cried, looking at the Warhorses, the

Border Runners and the great army of men gathered around

them. 'You mean we shall really be free and bound to serve

no-one?'

 

Tombel laughed and lifted Willow high enough for all to

see and shouted, 'Warriors of Elundium, look upon this lad

and all his people. Let no man stand in their path, or cross

their purpose with his shadow, for by their feats this day they

are forever free!'

 

Before the sun began to burn World's Edge with the

morning light four great mounds had arisen on the plateau.

They were laid in a crescent facing the Gates of Night. One

for the Warhorses, one for the Battle Owls, one for the

Border Runners and one for the warriors of Elundium. In

front of them a small mound stood on its own. Amarch and

Silverwing were lain together and Thane and Tombel between

them placed the last heather turf over their bodies as

the new sun rose.

 

Thane lifted his grandfather's sword above his head,

catching all the morning's glory on the bright steel, and

shouted their names out loud. Spears clashed on shields,

Border Runners barked, the Warhorses stamped their hooves

and all the Battle Owls, large and small, rose into the air,

casting moving shadows across the black gate.

 

32

 

Thane lowered the sword, calling in a strong voice, 'We

leave many we have loved to guard this foul place forever. The

gate is shut to all Nightbeasts. The way is closed for all time!'

 

He lifted the sword again, reflecting a sunbeam into the

blackness, and the key stones above the gate split, crashing to

the ground.

 

'Mantern's Gate is shut. Now we must~return to Underfall

and chase the Master of Nightmares into the heart of

Elundium,'Tombel said, turning towards the plateau's edge.

 

Thoron rose shakily to his knees, brushing aside helping

hands, and crawled to Amarch's burial mound.

 

'Leave him,' whispered Tombel, putting a hand on

Thane's arm to restrain him.

 

'Two Gallopers will wait just below the plateau's rim and

bring your grandfather down when he has watched awhile

beside Amarch's grave, for he has a lifetime of memories to

search amongst and grief blinds him to everything else. Come

with me, Thane, to Underfall.'

 

Thane reluctantly followed Tombel, but looking back he

saw that Equestrius, the Lord of Horses, had moved to his

grandfather's side. Sighing he called to Willow, offering him

a place on Esteron's saddle for the long descent to

Underfall.

 

Thoron knelt beside the single grave mound, his hands

pressed into the heather. Eagle Owl descended on silent

wings to perch on his shoulder and Equestrius moved to his

side, snorting and whinnying softly, but the old man was

unaware of their presence; he was far away, re-living the

memory of riding into morning, the first day he had ever sat

upon Amarch's back. A proud voice broke through the

memory.

 

 

'Thoron, lift up your eyes. Look into the sunlight and put

an end to your grief!'

 

'Equestrius! Why do you stand next to me, a ragged old

man who has nothing but grief on his shoulders? Why?'

 

'Because grief must end. Amarch feared that your heart

 

33

 

 

would break. She knew that her death was woven into your

triumph over the darkness.'

 

'And yet she came to free me,' Thoron said bitterly.

 

'Yes,' replied Equestrius, looking down at the mound

where she lay. 'And none could, or wished to stop her coming,

for Nevian commanded it many sunlights ago at the Bondbreaking.

Love drew her to you and love drew all the others

who came to rescue you from the darkness. Even those with

you at the Bondbreaking were drawn to Underfall and the

battle on this high plateau, for the tattoo that Nevian traced

upon their arms, of the owl in blue and gold, binds them.'

 

'All just to set me free! A wanderer of the Greenway turf?'

 

'You are but a small part in these things, Thoron, but many

threads of fate have stretched far across Elundium to set you

free.'

 

'How can I ever repay what they have sacrificed?' Thoron

cried, looking at the wide crescent of burial mounds.

 

'You cannot, and must not try. The price of your freedom

had no measure set against it. Come now and ride upon my

back to Underfall.'

 

34

 

Siege-Locked

 

King Holbian cantered up through the Granite City, reined

Beacon Light to a halt before Candlebane Hall and dismounted. '

Another daylight!' he laughed, shivering in the

chill dawn wind as he unbuckled his sword and rested the hilt

against the broken Candledoors. Breakmaster reined Mulberry,

his rough-coated pony, in beside Beacon Light and

also dismounted.

 

'We have won another daylight from the Nightbeasts, my

Lord,' he sighed, rubbing his hand wearily across his battlesmudged

face, and smiled at the edge of sunlight climbing

over the horizon. 'But how long can we hold out against those

foul Nightbeasts that hammer on the gates of the city?'

 

'Each daylight is a victory in itself, Breakmaster, we can ask

no more. The shadow of the Nightbeast army has shrunk a

little, I think. Look beyond the outer walls, near the horizon.

There is a green strip fresh-painted in dawn colours. Come,

we have rested enough, let us make ready for the long night

ahead.'

 

'Do you never tire, Lord?' Breakmaster asked, hurrying

-after the King and catching up with him as he strode through

the empty Candle Hall. Early shafts of sunlight streamed

through the high vaulted windows, chasing the night shadows

into gloomy corners.

 

King Holbian laughed, drawing his fingers musically across

the rows of empty tallow-stained candlesticks that ran in

concentric circles up towards the high throne. His armoured

boots echoed across the polished marble floor as he climbed

to the throne. 'The wicks of my life are guttering, Breakmaster,

and the great Candleman hovers with the snuffer behind

my shoulder. Ruin looms tall and bleak enough almost to blot

out the sunlight. No! I dare not tire, for I am the last Granite

King and I must not fail the people of Elundium. Only kings

can walk in the darkness and destroy the terrible Nightmares.

I will leave this throne fit for a new king!'

 

Breakmaster stepped up to the throne and knelt before the

King. 'Lord,' he whispered, 'I meant no disrespect. You are

always first where the Nightbeasts swarm over the walls,

fighting with the strength and energy of ten warriors. Lord,

you are the greatest Granite King.'

 

Holbian reached down, putting his hand under Breakmaster's

\chin, and gently motioned him to rise.

 

'There are plenty here who would plot and scheme and

show disrespect at every footstep, but I have never doubted

you, not since that day when you hid Thanehand from the

Chancellors' rage. Now, sit by me and help me marshal the

Chancellors, for they are a treacherous lot who would open

the gates of the city if they feared the Nightbeasts less and if

they could see a little profit in it.'

 

'Shall I summon the Chancellors and the defenders of the

outer walls into a full Battle Council, my Lord?' Breakmaster

asked, turning towards the throne.

 

Holbian lifted his hand in silent approval; he was leaning

forwards, engrossed in watching the morning shafts of sunlight

pick their way between the tall candle stems, filling the

Candle Hall with beautiful light, and he was unaware of how

closely the horse-breaker was studying his ungloved hands

and his face.

 

Breakmaster gasped and swallowed; he had never sat so

close to the King before and his hands trembled as he picked

up the calling bell.

 

'Granite Kings,' he whispered, stealing another look at the

King's face, following with his eyes the tiny hairline fractures

in the skin, until they disappeared beneath his flowing locks of

pure white hair.

 

'Surely,' he muttered, ringing the calling bell as loudly as

he could, 'the King is not made of stone? That is a night tale,

one whispered by the ageing crones and witches in the lower

circle of the city.'

 

A movement in the darkness behind the throne caught

Breakmaster's eye and he turned quickly to see a dissolving

flash of bright colours.

 

'Nevian! Is that you?' he whispered nervously, searching

the shadows for the magician's rainbow cloak.

 

'Guard him well, Breakmaster,' a voice whispered out of

the darkness. 'For he is the last Granite King.' Nevian

paused, gathered the rainbow cloak into tight folds to hide its

light and peered intently at the maze of age cracks on the

King's hands and face. 'He grows brittle with age, horseman.

I fear that only one winter is left to King Holbian. You must

help him reach the Palace of Kings by high summer so that he

may be laid to rest in his father's house.'

 

'Palace of Kings?' asked Breakmaster. 'I would not know

where to look for such a place even if we could escape the

siege lock the Nightbeasts have ringed around the Granite

City.'

 

 

Nevian laughed quietly. 'Within the shadows of Mantern's

Mountain lies the fortress of Underfall. That, horseman, is

the Palace of Kings, but if you cannot escape, keep the King

warm in the chill winds before the dawn; that will stop him

from turning into stone.'

 

Breakmaster rose to his feet and took a step towards the

shadows 'Nevian?' he whispered. 'How do I keep the King

warm? He spurns all cloaks since the Chancellors destroyed

the cloak of jewels.'

 

The voice in the darkness chuckled, 'You must search,

horseman, for something of great value. Something that you

would treasure against the Nightbeasts, and wrap it around

the King's shoulders.'

'Search? Where?' Breakmaster hissed, stretching out a hand

towards the voice.

 

'Something you would treasure, horseman.' The voice

chuckled, turned hollow and vanished as the first morning

sunbeam reached the last dark space in Candlebane Hall.

 

Armoured footsteps interrupted Breakmaster's whisperings,

ringing out through the upper circle of the city. Strong voices

laughed and shouted together above the murmur of battle talk

as the defenders of the Granite City filed into Candlebane Hall.

 

'Well met, warriors, to a new daylight!' shouted the King,

motioning them with a sweep of his hand to be seated.

 

'Chancellors!' he called, the smile fading from the corners of

his mouth. 'Come forward, griefmongers, you are blotting out

the sunlight. Sit by the wax channel and tell us what news the

new daylight brings.'

 

Chancellor Proudpurse hunched his shoulders, glanced

furtively at the warriors as they moved aside, and led the other

Chancellors through into the Candlehall. 'Lord,' he cried, taking

his place on the edge of the cold wax channels. 'The lower city

larders are near to empty. Soon the people will have nothing to

eat but the sewer vermin.'

 

'They will be in darkness, my Lord,' cried out Chancellor

Overlord, rising to his feet, 'for the lower tallow house is

drained of wax and only one in twenty men has a spark to light

his way.'

 

King Holbian glared darkly at the Chancellors. 'Enough of

this pantomime,' he hissed, pointing an accusing finger. Archer

Grey Goose rose quietly to his feet and slipped unnoticed out

of the room, gathering a small strike of Archers around him. He

entered the Chancellors' houses in the third circle of the city,

going from chamber to chamber, searching out the truth.

 

'I have watched you for many suns and countless daylights,'

the King roared, standing directly above the Chancellors,

'plotting, taking and hoarding, lining your

 

pockets and growing fat on the people of Elundium.

 

'Great King,' Proudpurse soothed, spreading his smile as

wide as his outspread hands, 'our toil is the life blood of

Elundium, and all that is ours we would gladly give to the

people of the Granite City, but. . .'

 

'But...' laughed Grey Goose, standing between the

Candledoors, a rough hemp sack slung across his shoulder.

Proudpurse turned, frowning at the Archer. 'You dare to

interrupt a Chancellor?'

 

Grey Goose strode forwards and cast the contents of the

sack across the polished marble floor at the Chancellors' feet,

laughing. He knelt before the King. 'I bring gifts for the people,

my Lord, from the Chancellors. I bring sparks to light the night,

blocks of pure tallow, coils and loops of unused wick, cotton...'

 

'Lord! Lord!' Proudpurse cried, treading on the sharp sparks

as he retreated to the edge of the wax channel, 'I . . .'

 

Holbian stared the Chancellor into silence, his face set in

lines of anger. 'What else do the Chancellors offer to the people

of the Granite City to ease their siege plight?' he asked and

turned smiling eyes towards his Captain Archer.

 

'Why, my Lord, they are so generous that whole

wagonloads of oatmeal, smoked meats and bagged forest fruits

are being sent into the lower circles of the city as we talk. They

have emptied their houses in their generosity.'

 

Proudpurse bit his knuckles, shaking with rage.

 

'What say you now to the Archer's interruption?' King

Holbian asked, turning searching eyes to the Chancellors.

 

Proudpurse opened and shut his mouth, the colour draining

out of his cheeks, but all he could utter was, 'The people, the

people will. ..'

 

'Benefit?' prompted Breakmaster, laughing.

 

 

'Benefit, my Lord!' choked Overlord, sitting down heavily

beside the wax channel.

 

King Holbian looked beyond the Chancellors into the

throng of warriors. 'Who can tell me how the outer wall

withstood the night's attacks?'

 

'The great wall is crumbling, my Lord, under the Nightbeast

attacks. My mason gangs cannot keep pace with the

damage they do.'

 

'Come forward, Mastermason, and tell us what must be

done to strengthen the outer walls.'

 

Arachatt, the Mastermason, squeezed through the press of

warriors until he stood shyly before the King. Kneeling, he

kissed the King's foot. 'We cannot repair the damage, my

Lord. The houses built against the inner surface of the wall

are no more than piles of broken granite. The Nightbeasts are

breaking through.'

 

'How so?' asked the King, leaning forward. 'The narrow

road along the top of the wall feels firm enough. It trembles

and shakes under the Nightbeasts' assaults, but it seems

strong and safe.'

 

'Lord, they are battering with whole tree trunks against the

lower sections of the wall, shaking the very foundations of the

city.'

 

'But the walls are seventeen paces thick, and each great

granite block is the height and width of three grown men.

Surely trees are no match against granite?'

 

'They are using ironwood, my Lord,' Arachatt replied.

'Splinters too heavy for my masons to carry have been hurled

into the city.'

 

'Ironwood!' Grey Goose mouthed. Once he had seen an

ironwood tree in the heart of the black forest. 'You can cast

sparks with the blade of your sword, or blunt arrows on that

wood. It is match enough for granite.'

 

'They pound the walls all night without rest, my Lord,

grinding the granite to a fine powder. I fear they will break

through into the lower city tonight,' Arachatt insisted. 'We

have piled the rubble from the houses against the weakest

sections of the wall but the first circle of the city is a tangle of

wreckage.'

 

King Holbian rose to his feet and paced the high dais, deep

in thought. 'If we abandon the first circle, Mastermason, how

will we defend the city once the Nightbeasts have breached

the wall?'

 

'The second level has a strong granite wall, my Lord, but it

has been hidden for many suns beneath new buildings. It is

said that the houses on that wall have a view second only to

the views from the Granite Towers.'

 

Holbian smiled, 'But there are no gates. How will you stop

the Nightbeasts from swarming up through every level until

they reach Candlebane Hall? We will be overrun before the

new sun rises.'

 

'Lord, my masons will demolish every house on the second

wall and render it smooth, without a hanthold for the

Nightbeasts We will block the gateway with the rubble,

building a new strong wall in the gap.'

 

Angry mutterings rose amongst the Marchers near the

Candledoors and Marcher Cherink pushed his way through

the Battle Council to stand before the King.

 

'We will be homeless, Lord, if the masons strip the inner

wall. We will be left with nothing but the stars over our heads

at night.'

 

The King looked steadily into Marcher Cherink's eyes and

answered him softly, yet all could hear his words. 'What

would you have, Marcher? Nightbeasts staring down at us

from every window on the wall, filling your homely chambers

with their foul stench? What of the people from the lower city?

They already have the stars for a roof.'

 

Marcher Cherink hung his head and shuffled his feet in

 

 

confusion.

 

'We are siege-locked warriors,' the King called out in a

strong voice. 'And every one of us, even the Chancellors,

must give a little and bend beneath the Nightbeasts' foul

shadows, but remember this, in the bending we are only

crouching, waiting for the moment to spring back and tear

their black hearts out!'

 

'Elundium! Elundium!' shouted the warriors, clashing their

spear butts on the marble floor and beating the flat blades of

their swords against the fire-fluted candle stems. Holbian

lifted his hands and called for silence.

 

'Saddle the horses, Breakmaster!' he cried, unsheathing his

sword. The Battle Council leaned forward, hushed and

anxious to catch his every word.

 

- 'We will clear the lower circle of the city before night falls,

Mastermason. Set your stonechippers to work on the inner

wall. Use every Marcher, man or boy, use everyone, but strip

it bare. Gallopers, spread out through the shadow of the great

wall and bring the low-born people up into the safety of the

inner circle. Archer Grey Goose, take your Archers up to the

great wall and with your careful sharp eyes watch over us and

marshal our retreat.'

 

'Lord we are ready!' Breakmaster cried, holding Beacon

Light by the bridle.

 

'Ride with me, faithful friend,' the King whispered as

Breakmaster held the stirrup for him to mount, 'for never in

all the history of Elundium has the Granite City fallen so far

under the Nightmare's shadow and I am afraid.'

 

Breakmaster tightened the horse's girth and handed the

reins to the King. 'I am your shadow, Lord. Even in the

Nightmare's darkness I will be at your side.'

 

'Not as a shadow,' resolved the King, 'but as a fearless and

proud friend whom I trust with my life!' Holbian laughed,

stood in the stirrups and beckoned his small squadron of

Gallopers to follow, and their hoofbeats sounded as thunder

in the narrow cobbled streets that wound their way down into

the shadow of the great wall.

 

-Fine stone dust hung in a gritty fog, blurring the lower

 

limits of the city. King Holbian coughed, choking on each

breath that he swallowed and his eyes watered in the stinging

dust. The lower city lanes and winding alleyways had been

reduced to heaps of granite rubble, and rough sacking

shelters had sprung up wherever a wall remained standing.

Cooking fires lit the gloomy scene, sending up the stench of

roasting sewer vermin or worse.

 

'What chaos!' muttered Breakmaster, wrinkling up his nose

and reining his pony to a slow walk as he picked his way

amongst the temporary shelters.

 

'Bring the cryers forward!' shouted the King, twisting in

the saddle and sweeping his eyes across the wreckage of the

lower city. Far above him in the upper circle of the City the

noon bell tolled out the measure of the daylight.

 

'Cryers!' he shouted, 'the daylight runs away from us.

Marshal the people up into the second level.'

 

Holbian spurred Beacon Light forwards, riding amongst

the shuffling low-born dwellers, urging them to hurry. 'The

people are slow to move to safety,' he called across to

Breakmaster as the evening shadows lengthened.

 

'They have suffered great hardship in the siege, my Lord,

and their spirits are near to breaking.' Breakmaster hesitated.

'And they fear death in the upper circles of the city at the

hands of the Chancellors.'

 

A loud clap of thunder drowned out any more of Breakmaster's

 words and the ground beneath their feet rocked and

trembled.

 

'Death waits for them here if they drag their footsteps,'

shouted Holbian. 'The Nightbeasts are battering on the walls.

Drive the stragglers to safety.'

 

Galloper Earit saw the wall begin to bulge above him. He

spun his horse away and galloped clear as a shower of sharp

granite stone fell all around him. His horse stumbled,

floundering in the wreckage as a section of wall collapsed

behind him. Blinding clouds of stone dust rose. The Night

beasts were swarming through the breach, roaring and

screaming, reaching out with cruel claws for the last fleeing

dwellers of the lower city.

 

King Holbian wheeled Beacon Light towards the Nightbeasts

and spurred her forwards.

 

'The King! The King!' shouted Breakmaster, seeing his

Lord's peril as the Nightbeasts surrounded him. Beating the

flat of his sword against his pony's side he charged after the

King into the terrible shadows, calling to the Gallopers to

follow. King Holbian slipped the reins and, double-handed,

gripped the hilt of his Galloping sword. Boldly he scythed

through the Nightbeasts' mail-clad arms and iron caps, as

Beacon Light reared and plunged, thrashing the air with her

forelegs, taking the King nearer and nearer to the breach;

further and further into the Nightbeasts' shadows.

 

Grey Goose knelt at the edge of the great wall and watched

the King's perilous charge.

 

'Wait for my signal!' he commanded quietly. His strike of

Archers were spread out on either side of him. Lifting his

right hand, the Archers necked new-forged arrows on to

their bows and drew them tight until the feathered flights

lightly touched their cheeks. Beyond the piles of granite

rubble the Gallopers had rallied into a fast-moving line.

Spears lowered, they closed in on the Nightbeasts to rescue

the King.

 

Grey Goose's hand trembled and fell, the oiled wooden

bows cried out as the arrows sang and shrieked their way

down into the Nightbeast army below. The wall of Nightbeasts

crumbled and Breakmaster galloped over them.

 

'Abandon the breach, my Lord,' he urged, arriving breathlessly

at the King's side.

 

Holbian laughed, sweeping his sword in a glittering arch.

'Well met, Captain Archer,' he cried, looking up at the strike

of Archers on the wall. The Gallopers closed about the King,

their spears turned outwards in defence.

 

'The lower circle of the city is abandoned, Lord, it is time

to retreat,' urged Breakmaster. More Nightbeasts were

already surging through the breach, climbing over the carcasses

of those the Archers had felled.

 

'Abandon the wall!' Holbian shouted up to Grey Goose.

'We will wait for you beneath the second wall.'

 

Grey Goose saluted to Holbian, then turned and quickly

led the Archers towards the ramp that led down into the

shadow of the great wall, but ahead of them siege ladders

crashed against its stones.

 

 

'Form a moving strike!' Grey Goose shouted as the first

Nightbeasts swarmed up on to the narrow road, blocking it

with their hideous shapes.

 

'What keeps them?' fretted the King, pirouetting Beacon

Light in the lengthening shadows.

 

'Lord,' a voice shouted from the top of the wall, 'we are

trapped! The Nightbeasts have the road against us!'

 

Holbian looked up at the black shapes crowding towards

his Archers, then spurred his horse forwards.

 

'Lord, the narrow road is too dangerous. We must abandon

the great wall!' cried out one of the Gallopers.

 

'And lose my only strike of Archers?' Holbian angrily

replied, checking his horse's stride and bending to snatch up a

siege hook from where it hung at the bottom of the ramp.

 

'Follow me if you dare, Gallopers!' he cried, turning the

shaft of the siege hook until the smooth curve of shining steel

was level with the edge of the wall. Leaning forward he

stroked Beacon Light's neck with his rein hand. 'Gallop for

me, great-hearted friend, against the blackest shadows,' he

whispered, pressing her forwards with his spurs.

 

Breakmaster galloped level with the King, a siege hook in

his left hand, 'Let me go before you, Lord. Let me go and cut

the Nightbeasts down.'

 

'It is the place of Kings,' Holbian shouted against the

thunder of their hoofbeats, 'to be first, and tread where the

danger is the greatest. But ride with me, true friend; match

me stride for stride and help me tear the Nightbeast ladders

down.'

 

Breakmaster laughed, urging his pony forwards, and galloped

beside the King to the top of the ramp. Low evening

sunlight shone on their faces, but before them the edge of the

narrow road was a forest of siege ladders. Beacon Light

neighed and sprang forward. Holbian swung the siege hook

against the first crude wooden ladder and toppled it, sending

it crashing backwards into the deep dyke that surrounded the

great wall. Breakmaster attacked the second ladder, pushing it

out away from the wall until it overbalanced, shedding its

Nightbeast load on to the ground far below. Galloping hard,

they cleared away the siege ladders one by one between them

and their Archers. Grey Goose saw the sunlight blood red on

the King's mail-clad arms as he came to their rescue. Their

quivers were empty and their bows clasped securely to their

belts. The Archers were beating their way towards the ramp.

The column of Gallopers rode up on to the narrow road and

quickly overtook the King. Lowering their spears they

ploughed through the Nightbeasts, clearing a gap for the

fleeing Archers.

 

Bending low and running as fast as they could Grey Goose

and the Archers reached the safety of the ramp and descended

into the shadows of the great wall. Their footsteps

echoed loudly in the eerie silence, and behind them they

could hear the roar of hoofbeats as the Gallopers led the King

and Breakrnaster down off the narrow road. Beyond the great

wall they could hear the screams of the Nightbeasts, distantly

muffled by the wall's thickness.

 

'Do not stop until you are within the second circle,' shouted

the King, swinging the siege hook behind him, knocking the

nearest pursuing Nightbeast to his death on the piles of

rubbish below.

 

Arachatt, the Mastermason, had driven his stonechippers

without rest from the moment the King rode down into the

lower circle of the city, and, as he had promised, the inner

wall rose bare and imposing in the evening sunlight. The

granite rubble from the demolished houses had been carried

down in wicker baskets and piled into the gateway by the

Marchers, but Arachatt himself had built the new wall,

packing the granite in tight layers and trowelling in the mortar

against the Nightbeasts. He had left a narrow gap for the

 

retreating warriors and every Marcher, man and boy, waited

behind the wall, a block of granite held ready to fill the gap.

Two carts of wet mortar were poised upon the top of the wall

to seal it once the King was safely inside.

 

Breathlessly the Archers ran through the gap, with the

Gallopers only a length behind. Breakmaster and the King

reached the wall together. Briefly they halted and looked back

at the ruin below.

 

'We are siege-locked now, my Lord,' Breakmaster muttered,

watching the Nightbeasts pouring through new

breach-holes all along the length of the great wall.

 

'Siege-locked and desperate,' answered the King in a tired

voice, turning Beacon Light into the entrance and riding up

into the second level of the city.

 

47

 

 

Underfall

 

The giant doors of Underfall lay shattered and splintered

away from their hinges. The inner courtyards were a jumble

of wreckage and broken stonework.

 

'Thunderstone!'Thane shouted, quickly dismounting from

Esteron's back and unsheathing his grandfather's sword.

 

'Who lives in this great fortress?' Willow asked, jumping

lightly to the ground.

 

'The Keeper of World's End. The Lampmaster of Elundium,'

Tombel replied, grimly striding across the Causeway

to join the others standing between the broken doors.

 

'Who could have wrought such damage?' cried Tiethorm,

looking up at the ruined tree-thick doors.

 

'Krulshards, the Master of Nightbeats!' cried a voice from

the shadows of the first stone stairway that led up to the

galleries. Faltering, with his hand upon the rail, Thunderstone

descended the last few steps into the main courtyard.

 

'Thunders/one!' Thane cried, running to the Keeper's side

and catching him in his arms as he stumbled forwards.

 

'Give me room!' Thunderstone wept, struggling to raise

the horse-tail sword, but it slipped from his hand and

clattered on to the cobblestones.

 

'Fetch Merion the Healer!' Tombel ordered, bending to

pick up Thunderstone's sword.

 

'An army of Healers will not stop him now,' whispered

Thunderstone, climbing dizzily to his feet, and taking back

his sword.

 

48

 

'How did the Master of Nightmares break into Underfall?'

Thane asked, helping Thunderstone to a stone bench at the

edge of the courtyard.

 

Merion the Healer burst into the courtyard, his bag of oils

and herbs bumping heavily against his legs. Thunderstone

stared absently at him for a moment, his forehead wrinkled in

a frown.

 

'The lamp gallery. Go quickly. Morolda is tending Errant

beside the lamp.'

 

Merion ignored him, dipped into his bag for an oiled cotton

and pressed it against the ragged tear in the side of the

Keeper's face.

 

'Go, fool!' Thunderstone roared, angrily pushing Merion

away. 'Errant needs you more than I. This is nothing but the

mark from a broken Nightbeast claw.'

 

'Kerzolde!' Thane exclaimed, grimly.

 

'You know of this beast?' Thunderstone asked, picking up

the oiled cotton that Merion had dropped and pressing it

against his wound.

 

'We have fought many times, even yesterlight in the City of

Night, but he escaped. I had the choice between his death and

Thoron's life.'

 

'Thoron lives?' Thunderstone cried, jumping to his feet

and letting the oiled cotton fall to the ground again.

 

'He follows us with Equestrius, the Lord of Horses.'

 

'Who?' gasped Thunderstone, looking from face to face

and seeing Willow for the first time standing on the edge of

the gathering crowd.

 

'There is - much to tell you, Master,' Thane laughed,

stooping for the oiled cotton and returning it to Thunderstone'

s head. 'It is a long story, and many parts need others to

fit the pieces together. But tell us, how did Krulshards break

into Underfall?'

 

 

Thunderstone turned his head and looked fearfully into the

innermost courtyard where it touched the side of Mantern's

Mountain. 'He did not break in. He came from within, out of

 

49

 

 

the very roots of the mountain. Up through the earth we stand

upon.'

 

The listening warriors shuffled uneasily, as if the ground

beneath their feet had suddenly grown too hot for them.

 

'In a great screaming wind he stormed up through the

galleries, burning the wooden floors and tearing down

the stone work, until he reached the lamp gallery. He

charged at the lamp, his black malice billowing out

with hatred.'

 

Thunderstone hid his face in his hands and his shoulders

shook with terror as he remembered what he had seen. 'Out

of the earth,' he whispered. 'A face of raw sinews, more

horrible than death itself to look upon.'

 

Thane knelt and took Thunderstone's hands into his own

and steadied them before he continued with his story.

 

'Errant tried to come between Krulshards and the lamp but

Krulshards picked him up and tossed him the length of the

gallery and then he snapped Errant's sword in two as if it had

been a stick of straw. The one-eyed monster attacked me in

the instant that Krulshards smashed the crystal in the lamp,

but I caught a glimpse of that broken claw as he slashed at my

face. Darkness descended across the gallery, even the starlight

seemed blacked out. Krulshards destroyed the glass of

the lamp and laughed as he crunched the crystal into a fine

powder, but with the horse-tail sword gripped firmly in both

hands I tried to cut into the malice, slashing at the black

fabric.'

 

Thunderstone smiled and touched the horse-tail sword,

 

'The silver strands of horsehair bound into the hilt of the i

sword glowed in the darkness, and whenever they touched or

wrapped themselves about my hands they seemed to give me

strength, the strength of the great warhorse, Equion, who

feared nothing in the dark. Twice Krulshards drove me to my

knees but each time as he tried to make the killing stroke the:

horse tail shone so brightly that it gave the Nightmare a

shadow, blinding him with a silver light. Cursing and snarling

 

50

 

he turned on the shadow, trampling it as he fled from the

lamp gallery down towards the great doors.'

 

Thunderstone paused for breath and all eyes turned

towards the ruined doors. 'I followed the Nightmare sticking

as close as I dared and watched the awesome power of

Krulshards as he wound the malice tightly around his shoulders

and attacked the doors. Twice he hammered on them,

once to the left and once to the right, filling the courtyard with

blinding sparks. The iron studding melted at his touch. The

doors fell, collapsing outwards on to the Causeway and

Krulshards was gone, escaping into the night.'

 

'We saw the great lamp falter and feared for you,' Tombel

said, quietly, taking his old friend's hand and leading him into

the sunlight.

 

'Tell me,' he whispered when they were beyond the others'

hearing, 'did the Master of Nightmares, or the other beast,

have a small silver finger bowl?'

 

Thunderstone thought for a moment, and then shrugged

his shoulders. 'Black-bladed daggers, cruel rusty iron spears

and the gruesome trophies from earlier battles hung from the

one-eyed beast's belt, but nothing that shone like silver. The

malice hid much of Krulshards' Nightmare shape and I could

not guess at what he might have carried but he did cry out to

the one-eyed beast to hurry for they had easier meat to catch

than the Lampmaster of Underfall.'

 

Kyot cantered Sprint easily up on to the Causeway, leading

the Archers. Laughing, he jumped to the ground. 'Thunderstone!

We come back to eat the chair you sit upon!'

 

'And so you shall,' boomed Morolda's voice as she entered

the courtyard. Softly she smiled at Duclos and took his hand

in quiet finger-talk of all that had happened on the high

plateau.

 

 

'There was no finger bowl to see,' Thunderstone concluded,

turning back towards the main courtyard and taking

Esteron's bridle to lead him towards the stables.

 

51

 

 

Ironhand, would be proud of.'

 

52

 

Tombel sighed with relief and fell into step with the

Keeper.

 

'We heard the battle on the high plateau,' Thunderstone

said quietly, 'and we feared for you. The tattoo of the owl on

my arm began to fade as the afternoon wore on. Despair

darkened our hearts. Then a great shout filled the air and the

tattoo burned with new colours. What happened?'

 

'Defeat towered over your warriors. Thane and Kyot had

prepared to make a last stand; we could hear their defiant

singing as we breasted the edge of the plateau. That shout you

heard was the Archers of Stumble Hill and the Warriors of

Underfall finding new heart to see us - late but in the nick of

time.'

 

'And the small boy with the strange ears and the bulging

eyes?'

 

'Willow! He led his people out from within the City of

Night and won the black gates.'

 

'Master! Master!' a voice cried out, interrupting Tombel's

explanation of Willow's part in the battle. 'Thoron is on the

Causeway!'

 

With a rush of feet across the cobbles every man and beast

ran to the broken doors, and the roar of their welcome echoed

across the Causeway Field.

 

Thunderstone waited until Thoron had been helped to

dismount before he offered him the hilt of the horse-tail

sword saying, 'Welcome home, old friend. You have been

greatly missed.'

 

Tombel knelt, offering up the hilt of his Marching sword,

shouting, 'Hail to the greatest rider in all Elundium, who has

defeated the darkness and returned!'

 

Thane pushed his way through the crowding warriors and

clasped his grandfather's hands. 'Beyond my wildest dreams

. . . you have returned from the dead!'

 

Thoron laughed, his eyes sparkling with joy, 'You have

grown, child, into a strong young man that your father,

 

, ]

 

A shadow crossed Thane's face, his eyes growing wet

around the edges.

 

'He is dead, Grandfather.'

 

'Dead?' cried Thoron, the laughter fading from his lips.

The warriors fell into a hushed silence. Thane turned his eyes

towards the pine-clad slopes of Mantern's Mountain and told

Thoron how his father had died.

 

'He was the King's standard-bearer, Grandfather, running

at his stirrup through a long weary day of retreating before the

Granite City. At evening time he fell, driven into the shadows

by a Nightbeast blade.'

 

'The King rode back for him,' Errant called out from

where he leaned on the Healer's arm, 'and took his body up

into Candlebane Hall. The standard he carried to his death

was laid across his funeral bier and was taken in great honour

to the buriers' yard.'

 

Thoron looked up at the standard of the owl in blue and

gold where it fluttered in the sunshine and wept. Willow

squeezed through the press of warriors until he stood before

Thoron.

 

'Lord. Equestrius told me that you are a great lord, so great

that all the animals came to help you. I am sure that they will

grieve at your loss.'

 

Thoron smiled down at Willow, brushing the back of his

age-stained hand across his cheeks to wipe away the tears.

 

 

'You are the boy, Willow. The one who escaped into the

daylight before the battle began. There was an old horse with

 

you.'

 

Willow smiled, but a sadness haunted his face. 'Her name

was Evening Star, but I have lost her, Lord. We were together

the night before the battle, when she gave birth to a beautiful

foal, but after the battle she vanished. I looked everywhere

and I cannot find her.'

 

The warriors smiled at each other and began moving

forwards toward the row of tables the servers had set upon

the Causeway for the victory feast, but Thoron straightened

 

53

 

 

aup, his eyebrows drawn fiercely together, and bade them

remember who stood before them. Who, when all had seemed

lost, had won the black gates and turned defeat into victory.

 

'We shall ask the Owls and the Warhorses to search for

Evening Star and her new-born foal, but if she is not found

before tomorrow's sun sets every Galloper here at World's End

will ride out and scour the countryside.'

 

'Come warriors, Marchers, Archers and Tunnellers, we are

going to eat this victory table bare, and then young Kyot will

keep his promise and eat the chair I sit upon!' shouted

Thunderstone, leading Thoron to the Honour Chair at the

centre of the highest table.

 

- 'We must call a Battle Council,' Tombel demanded, taking the

chair on the left of Thoron.

 

'The Nightmare is loose in Elundium,' replied Thunderstone

from Thoron's right.

 

'And the King is siege-locked in the Granite City,' Errant

called from further down the table.

 

Thane watched his grandfather picking at his food, lifting it

to his mouth, chewing a little and then returning it to the plate.

Quietly he caught a server's eye and beckoned him. 'Give me

your serving cloth. I will serve my grandfather, he is not yet

strong enough for raw meats.'

 

Thoron smiled as Thane came to his aid, and pulling him close

he whispered, 'I cannot eat. Krulshards fills my mind with dread.

We must speak privately of him before the Battle ~ Council is

called.' ;

 

Thane felt a cold shiver at the mention of the Nightmare's

name, as if an icy hand had touched his spine. Kyot came

laughing to Thoron's chair and linked his arm through Thane's.

'We are brothers, Thoron, and closer friends you have never

seen. Let me wait with him and serve you all you desire.'

 

Evening had drawn the shadows long before the feast was

finished and huge bonfires were lit upon the Causeway Field

The Warhorses, Owls, Border Runners and men of Elude

 

54

 

dium gathered for the Battle Council. Thunderstone took the

centre of the field, drove the point of the horse-tail sword deep

into the turf and waited for silence before he spoke. 'When this

blade draws a shadow from the new sun then this council will

end.'

 

'We should ride with the rising sun and break the siege of

the Granite City!' Tombel shouted.

 

'Follow the Master of Nightbeasts,' called another voice.

 

'Both paths will be along the same road,' said another.

 

'Strengthen Underfall and repair the doors,' Tiethorm

shouted against the rising clamour of anxious voices.

 

'Thane,' Thoron whispered, an edge of worry in his voice,

taking his grandson into the shadows away from the firelight

and sitting down by his side. 'I urged you to take battle

counsel, for that is the warrior way, but now that I am sure that

Krulshards has escaped into Elundium I know you must follow

him. He has linked your name with fair Elionbel's; he knows of

your love through that cursed finger bowl and he will take the

fastest road through Notley Marsh to the Wayhouse at

Woodsedge to take her in revenge for his defeat before the

Gates of Night. I know it.'

 

'Elionbel,' Thane cried, closing his fingers on the broken

chain that hung from his belt.

 

'No matter what Tombel thinks of you, low born or base,

bloodworthy or not, you must follow the Nightmare,' urged

Thoron. 'There are leaders here, my boy, plenty enough to

rescue ten Granite Kings, but you dared to enter the darkness

to rescue me. I know you have the power to follow Krulshards.

Go! Take the wild road through Notley Marsh. Go! Go now, or

it will be too late!'

 

 

Thane rose to his feet and called softly into the flickering

firelight for Esteron and Mulcade. 'Will you follow me?' he

asked, his hand on Thoron's arm.

 

'When darkness holds the Greenway's edge and the grey

hours have yet to light the sky, look for me then, or call my

name, and I shall come to you with the soft jingle of battle

 

55

 

 

harness and the thunder of Warhorse hooves.' Esteron

nudged Thane's arm and Mulcade silently stooped on to his:

shoulder.

 

Thoron turned his head towards the darker edges of the

Causeway. 'Men will council, Thane, strutting and shouting

to make themselves strong in the darkness, but listen - out

there beyond the firelight, there is the greatest power in all

Elundium!' Thane turned his head and heard beyond the

noisy Battle Council the thunder of hootbeats on the edge of

the wind. 'I will follow you, Thane, on Equestrius, the Lord of

Horses, but first I must honour my pledge to Willow and find

Evening Star and her new-born foal.'

 

Thane quickly mounted Esteron and handed the sword he

carried to Thoron. 'Eagle Owl carried your blade the length

of Elundium. I only borrowed it to set you free.'

 

'But you will need it against the Nightmare,' Thoron

insisted, making to give it back.

 

'I am well armed. I have the dagger Duclos gave to me on

the lawns of Gildersleeves. Give my farewell to Thunderstone,

tell him we will meet again before the great lamp of

Underfall.'

 

'Beware the Nightbeasts on the road,' Thoron called into

the darkness, but Thane had gone, galloping over the soft turf

of the Causeway Field towards the ancient road that led to

Notley Marsh.

 

'Men will council,' laughed a voice at Thoron's side.

 

'Nevian!' Thoron cried, spinning round towards the

shrouded figure. For long moments they stood eye to eye.

 

'You did not forget me or abandon me in the darkness,'

Thoron whispered, reaching out a hand to touch the muted

colours in the rainbow cloak.

 

'Many threads were pulled, old friend, to set you free.'

 

'But what is the bidding? What is the pledge-task that you

would take in payment?' Thoron asked, sinking to his knees

and offering up the hilt of his sword.

 

Nevian laughed, a sharp glint in his eye. 'You see deeper

 

56

 

than most men, Thoronhand, and you know that nothing is

ever given without a price. The fate of Elundium may yet

balance on Thane's shoulders and he may need your sword

again. I pledge you to keep it safe for him and in his hour of

need offer up the hilt to Eagle Owl, for he will wait, ready

perched on your shoulder, to carry the blade to Thane's hand.

For when the Nightmare haunts Elundium no more, a new

King will stand upon the Causeway Field, his banner shining

in the sunlight.'

 

'Nevian!' Thoron cried, feeling the rainbow cloak melt

beneath his touch. 'Who will be that King?'

 

57

 

 

Woodsedge

 

Branch fingers scratched against the windows of Woodsedge,

rattling and tapping in the chill evening breeze. Martbel

shivered and drew her shawl more tightly around her shoulders

and, for the hundredth time since the noon bell had

rung, she looked along the Greenway that ran past the

Wayhouse close to the eaves of the black forest. 'I was against

it,' she muttered, fretting with the shawl's edge. 'Night is no

time to wander out of doors.' Behind her a server coughed,

hovering in the doorway. 'We will wait,' Martbel called out,

without taking her eyes off the darkening strip of Greenway

turf that led towards the Granite City.

 

'Elton,' she whispered, screwing the shawl between her

fingers.

 

Far off, three shadows broke away from the forest gloom,

hurrying towards the Wayhouse. Silver laughter rang out

clearly in the evening light.

 

'Elton! Elion!' Martbel shouted, throwing open the Wayhouse

door.

 

Laughing and teasing, Arbel and Rubel raced their sister

the last league to Woodsedge and tumbled, fresh-faced and

breathless, on to the cool flagstones of the great hall. Martbel

stood before them, her face dark with anger.

 

'You fools!' she scolded, pointing through the open door to

the forest eaves. 'Listen! Nightbeasts are close at hand. Your

father charged you to keep the Wayhouse safe and hold

the Greenway open for his return. You spend the

 

58

 

days in idle foolishness, risking your sister's life in

silly games!'

 

The laughter died away. Arbel shuffled, blushing, and

unbuckled his broad Marching sword. 'Mother . . .' he began,

but she glared him into silence and turned hard eyes on to

Elionbel.

 

'The Wayhouse should have been locked and bolted long

ago. You have risked all our lives with your foolishness.'

 

Elionbel hung her head and offered up a basket of

sweet-smelling forest fruits. 'Arbel and Rubel were guarding

me while I collected these for our table.'

 

Martbel's face softened as she took the basket. 'You are a

foolish girl, Elion. Light-headed with flights of fancy, always

dreaming, you are leagues away from the dangerous world

you live in. Beware, child!' Beyond the forest's edge a

Nightbeast roared, cutting short Martbel's anger. She dropped

the basket and threw her weight against the door,

slamming it home.

 

'Bolt and bar the shutters,' she cried, drawing the short

sword she carried from her belt and bracing herself for the

Nightbeasts' attack.

 

Elionbel and her brothers raced from window to window,

making the Wayhouse safe, shutting out the last shades of

evening light. The Wayhouse Candleman hurried into the

Great Hall, a spark blazing in his hand, and went from wick to

wick, filling the hall with soft yellow light.

 

'We will eat as we stand, armed and ready,' Martbel

ordered, calling all the servers into the safety of the hall and

bolting the outer doors. 'The Nightbeasts are on the Greenway

and it will not take them long to realize we are alone and

defenceless.'

 

'Mother!' Rubel cried, striking sparks off the stone chimney

breast with his Marching sword. 'Arbel and I will defend

the Wayhouse. We are Marchers; pledged to it by our father!'

 

Martbel smiled, 'I know you are Marchers, proud and

brave, but you are only two against a swarm of shadows that

 

59

 

 

goes beyond my skill to count. Listen! They are gathering all

around us.

 

'If Thane were here with us he would drive the Nightbeasts

away,' Elionbel said, smiling as she remembered how he

fought his way across the hollow to rescue her, but it seemed

so long ago now, even the scars from the Nightbeasts' teeth

on her hands had paled beneath new skin.

 

Martbel frowned at Elionbel, shushing her into silence.

'Count with me, girl,' she ordered Elionbel to put away her

memories of Thane and listen to the Nightbeasts roaring on

the Greenway's edge. One, two, three, they were getting

closer, crowding in with the darkness.

 

'Light the stairhead fire,' Martbel whispered to Elionbel,

'and set branding irons to warm in it. Arbel, Rubel, arm the

servers.'

 

'There are at least twenty Nightbeasts!' Elionbel called out

softly from the stairhead. 'I can see them through the

casement slits in the bell tower. They are leaving the eaves of

the forest to ring the Wayhouse!'

 

Martbel quietly threw more logs on to the hall fire, making

it blaze halfway up the chimney. 'We will eat now,' she

ordered, 'before the night attack.'

 

Rubel tried to laugh but failed to mask his nervousness as

he carved thick chunks of cold nightboar and filled the waiting

plates. Elionbel pushed her plate away but Martbel insisted

that she ate. 'Strength for the night ahead,' she whispered,

splitting a hard-skinned yellow apple on the blade of her

sword.

 

'But the noise of them screaming ties my stomach in a

knot,' Elionbel whispered.

 

'Eat!' commanded her mother, listening to the Nightbeasts

drawing closer. Elionbel closed her eyes and chewed on the

coarse dark meat. She swallowed and filled her fork again.

The taste and smell of the meat reminded her of the

Nightbeasts in that awful hollow, pawing and touching her,

breathing their foul odour in her face. Choking, she pushed

 

60

 

:]

:.

 

i,

;

 

.,9

 

~ :

 

the plate away, drew the long dagger from her belt and tested

the blade by cutting a deep groove in the stairhead bannister.

 

'You will not take me again,' she hissed, gripping the hilt of

her dagger hard enough to make her knuckles turn white.

 

'They are upon us,' Arbel cried, leaping backwards a pace,

away from the Wayhouse door as it shook and rattled, bulging

inwards.

 

Rubel dropped the carving knife and quickly moved across

the hall to take his place, a sword's length from his brother.

'Ready,' he whispered, as they raised their Marching swords,

gripping them to strike.

 

Elionbel stoked the stairhead fire and re-arranged the

branding irons to glow sparkling white beneath the logs

before she ran down the broad stairway and took her place

beside her mother. Both held a long Marcher spear, the butt

firmly placed against the third stair-riser, the sharp pearshaped

blades pointing towards the main doorway. Behind

them at each stairtread the servers crouched, swords and

spears glittering in the candlelight.

 

'One stroke only, boys, and then retreat to the stairway,'

Martbel called anxiously to her sons as the door shook

violently, splintering on its hinges.

 

 

Nightmare screams rose to a deafening pitch as the

Nightbeasts hurled themselves against the Wayhouse. Window

glass shattered, the shutters flew splintering across the

Great Hall. The iron-studded door shuddered, bulged and

burst apart.

 

'Sing! Sing!' shouted Rubel, feeling the icy strength of

hatred flooding through his veins. 'Keep these monsters out

of Woodsedge!'

 

Hideous Nightbeast shapes were crowding through the

broken doorway and spilling over the window sills.

 

'Elundium . . . a place of sunlight hours . . .' Arbel sang at the

top of his voice, lunging forward and slashing his blade at the

cruel spears and wicked razor-sharp claws that reached out

towards him.

 

61

 

 

'One stroke only,' Martbel shouted above the Nightbeast

roar.

 

Elionbel watched, horror-stricken, as her brothers waded

into the writhing mass of Nightbeasts, slashing and cutting to

left and right.

 

'Arbel, Rubel,' she cried as the shadows closed around

them. 'We must save them,' she shouted across to her mother.

 

Elionbel and Martbel sprang forwards, their spear shafts

gripped fimnly in both hands and charged, heads down, across

the hall. With reckless speed they crashed into the monsters,

driving their spear blades deep into the Nightbeasts' armour,

sending up bright showers of burning sparks.

 

'Arbel, Rubel, back to the stairway,' the women shouted as

the impaled Nightbeasts crumpled before them leaving a clear

gap for the boys to retreat through.

 

Turning, they fled in a tight knot to the safety of the stairs

and fell exhausted behind the wall of sewers' spears.

 

'Next time I give an order you must obey it!' Martbel

snapped breathlessly.

 

The Nightbeasts renewed their attack, surging in a mass of

black shadows against the stairway. Elionbel snatched up two

hot fire-brands and thrust them down into the Nightbeasts'

faces, searing into their coarse hairy flesh with the burning

metal. Rubel took up a spear, and Arbel a broad Marching

sword, and together they defended the lower stairway.

 

'Bring every light and spark to the stairway,' Martbel cried,

thrusting her dagger between the bannister rails, and with one

sweep of the blade cutting a Nightbeast's throat. 'It will

weaken them.'

 

Elionbel returned to the stairhead fire and quickly passed

out the white hot fire-brands. 'We are ready, Mother,' she

whispered, turning her head and looking back up the stairway

to where the sewers waited, the glowing fire-brands in their

hands.

 

Martbel counted what were left of the Nightbeasts in the

Great Hall and sprang forwards. 'Now,' she shouted, leading

 

62

 

the defenders of the Wayhouse down on to the broad

flagstones and singing in a clear voice of the beautiful sunlight

that would fill Elundium with the coming dawn. Screaming

and howling, the Nightbeasts retreated, fighting each other to

escape the hot irons and bright lights that burned through

their scaly armour. The Great Hall quickly became fogged

with bitter smoke, heavy with the smell of seared skin. Rubel

and Arbel chased the last fleeing Nightbeasts to the doorway

and slew them on the threshold stone. 'Victory, mother,' they

laughed, returning into the ruined hall and resting wearily on

their swords' hilts.

 

Martbel surveyed the wreckage and a frown drew her

eyebrows together. 'Victory is only a short breath away from

defeat. We have little time to rest. Quickly, barricade the door

and windows before the Nightbeasts return.'

 

Elionbel stepped over the Nightbeasts' carcasses that littered

the floor, her face grim with disgust.

 

'They will come back, mark my words. They will return in

black hordes to smother the starlight,' Martbel muttered,

sheathing her sword, and turning to the servers.

 

'Clear the hall, pile the Nightbeasts in a heap beside the

doorway. We will burn them before the new sun rises.'

 

Turning back to her sons she ordered them to fortify the

Great Hall as for a siege. Elionbel she sent to the larders with

baskets for all the food she could carry. 'Before the new sun

sets this Wayhouse must become a fortress. Something

terrible is loose in Elundium, I can feel it, a black shadow at

my shoulder, a gnawing coldness in my bones.'

 

Elionbel shivered, feeling the coldness of her mother's fear

 

 

and looked out at the black forest's edge. 'The grey hours

have come,' she whispered without hope.

 

63

 

 

64

 

The Hilt of Thorns

 

Darkness blurred the Causeway Fields and spread in deep

shadows under the eaves of Mantern's Forest as Esteron

passed between the trees and took the ancient road that led

towards Notley Marsh. Thane crouched low in the saddle,

hunched against the rushing wind, his eyes narrowed by

streaming tears.

 

'Forgive me, Elion. Forgive me...' he whispered in

rhythm with Esteron's pounding hoofbeats. Without a backward

glance at the Battle Council or a thought of the danger

on the road ahead he pressed Esteron for all the speed he

could give, keeping him to the crown of the road, racing

between the fleeting moonshadows. Before them, less than

half a league distant, stood the tumbledown Wayhouse hut of

thorns that Thane remembered from his earlier journey to

Underfall. Mulcade suddenly shrieked a warning, digging his

talons sharply into Thane's shoulder. All about them Nightbeasts

swarmed up on to the Greenway, roaring and screaming.

 

'

The hut! Run for the hut!' Thane shouted, urging Esteron

to gallop faster. Mulcade spread his wings and stooped,

sinking his talons into the nearest Nightbeast. Thane drew his

dagger and slashed at the black Nightbeasts that blocked his

path. The door of the hut shimmered in the night air, barbed

thorns were shining in the moonlight. Esteron surged forward,

taking the last stride to safety, rising Tom the ground

in a graceful arch. He did not see the Nightbeast spring out

 

from the shadows of the hut and thrust the cruel spear at his

flank, but the force of the crippling blade sent him crashing to

his knees. Thane, unbalanced, fell beside him, rolled once

and leapt back to his feet.

 

'Into the hut! Into the hut!' he cried, as the injured horse

staggered through the doorway. The Nightbeast was hanging

on to the spear shaft, driving it deeper into Esteron's flank.

Thane ducked under the monster's outstretched arms and

drove his dagger upwards through the thin strips of foul

armour with both hands on the hilt. He pushed his weight

against the Nightbeast and sent the screaming animal toppling

backwards, releasing his grip on the spear shaft. Thane pulled

the blood-sticky dagger out of the Nightbeast's chest and

followed Esteron, jumping through the door of thorns.

 

Snorting and whinnying with pain Esteron half lay, half

knelt on the earth floor, beads of sweat forming on his neck as

he tried to rise. Thane sheathed the dagger and knelt beside

him. Mulcade stooped through the doorway and perched on

Thane's shoulder. The curtain of thorns fell across the

opening and rustled and shook as the Nightbeasts tried to

force their way through, but it remained impenetrable.

 

Thane shivered in the darkness and felt his way along the

spear shaft until his fingers reached the blade. The force of

the thrust had driven the barbed blade deep into Esteron's

flank and it would clearly need a Healer's skill to cut it out.

 

'I cannot pull it out!' cried Thane, taking Esteron's head

into his arms. 'The more I touch it the deeper it sinks.'

 

Esteron snorted through the pain, the whites of his eyes

showing in the darkness, and rose to his feet. With each

painful movement the spear shaft dipped and swayed

wildly, making the pain worse. Thane grasped the shaft as

close to the blade as he dared and, raising his knee, he

snapped it in two. Esteron shrieked and backed away until

he stood against the far wall black with sweat. He was trembling

from head to foot. Thane moved quickly to his side,

gently unbuckled the girths, removed the saddle and cut the

 

65

 

 

abridle knot, taking the steel bit out of Esteron'smouth.

'Tomorrow,' he whispered, untying the summer scarf from his

arm and binding it around the spear blade to stem the flow of

blood, 'tomorrow, when a new sun burns above World's

Edge the magic will fade and the Nightbeasts will overrun

this Wayhouse. We must escape in the first shafts of

sunlight. I will go alone to Woodsedge and you must return

to Underfall, for only Merion the Healer has the skill to

remove the Nightbeast's spearblade.'

 

Esteron neighed fiercely, arching his sweat-soaked neck, and

tried to cross the Wayhouse, forgetting for a moment the

crippling spear in his side. Thane watched his slow halting

steps and whispered to himself, 'They will cut you down long

before you reach the Greenway!'

 

Quickly he unclasped his cloak and pulled off his fine

chainmail shirt. With the edge of his dagger he unpicked the

rows of fine glittering steel loops and spread the opened shirt

across Esteron's back. Taking his cloak he cut the lower half

into strips and bound the shirt securely. Stepping back he

smiled in the darkness. 'Now you have a battle coat that even

Equestrius, the Lord of Horses, would be proud to wear. It is

not steelsilver, but it will turn the Mghtbeasts' blades.'

 

Esteron snorted, rubbing his head wearily against Thane's

arm.

 

'Merion is the only one with the power and the skill to pull

that black blade. You must go to him,' said Thane as he pulled

the shortened cloak about his shoulders. He felt the owl's

talons squeeze his shoulder and lifted his hand to caress the

soft downy chest feathers. 'Mulcade will go with you and

defend you on the road. I will clear a path through the

Nightbeasts as the new sun rises and win you the best road

that I can.'

 

Thane paused, biting his knuckles with despair, knowing that

the road to Woodsedge would be endless without Esteron, yet

he had no other choice. Sighing, he pulled offhis boots, and

with two swift cuts of the dagger he cut them down

 

66

 

to just above the ankles so that he could run in them. Esteron

whinnied. He would go as Thane had begged him and seek the

Healer of Underfall, but once the spear blade had been removed

he would use the gift of speed and raise a Warhorse army

greater than the one that had gathered on the high plateau to

free Thoronhand, and they would follow Thane into the heart

of Elundium to rescue Elionbel; and Mulcade, the Lord of Owls,

would call a stoop of Battle Owls great enough to darken the

sun. Thane would not stand alone against the Master of

Nightmares!

 

Beyond the door of thorns dense black shadows were

crowding in, the grey hours would soon touch the horizon's

edge with pale moving fingers. Thane shivered in the darkness,

drawing his cloak tightly around his shoulders; night silence

prickled at his scalp, for he knew that beyond the thorncovered

walls the powers of night crouched encircling the

Wayhouse, waiting for the magic to fade. Thane rose to his

feet and quiedy lifted Mulcade up towards the blackened

smoke hole.

 

'Fly high, great bird of war,' he whispered. 'Rise above the

Nightbeasts' shadows that trap us here, be our eyes and find

the morning. Bring a new sun to the Greenway's edge to drive

our enemies back.'

 

Mulcade dug his talons into Thane's arm, hooted softly, and

lifted on silent wings, spiralling up through the sooty chimney

towards the distant stars. Thane stood for a moment peering

upwards, searching the night sky for a hint of the grey hours

that would herald the dawn, but only cold faraway stars filled

the blackness. He shuddered and turned back to comfort

Esteron, weeping as he looked upon the ugly spear blade

embedded in his flank. As Thane crossed the Wayhouse floor,

moving silently between the upturned furniture, something

made him pause and hold his breath. Something of terrible

malice had arrived outside and was circling, testing the

tumbledown walls for weakness.

 

'Krulshards!' Thane whispered, drawing his dagger and

 

 

67

 

 

ahurrying to stand between Esteron and the door, following

the Mghtrnare threat with his eyes as it circled their refuge.

 

'I wish we had Kyot'sgreat bow and those glass arrowheads

from Stumble Hill,' he hissed, summoning up the courage to

shout a challenge at the Master of Nightmares. 'None can enter

this Wayhouse against the power of Nevian, for he is the

Master of Magic who built it!' he cried, dry-mouthed.

 

A cry of hatred froze Thane's heart as Krulshards watched

the owl escape up into the night sky. Turning back to the hut

he called out Thane's name, 'Killhand! Killhand!'he hissed,

rising in a blanket of shadows to envelope the hut. 'Bring his

head to the City of Night for torment!'

 

He laughed bitterly, pushing the ring of Nightbeasts forward

against the Wayhouse, and it began to crumble beneath the

assault. The walls cried out as black brittle claws tore into

them, and the barrier of living thorns that protected the

doorway shook and rattled as the Nightbeasts began to tear it

down.

 

'You cannot enter!' Thane cried, advancing a step towards

the door.

 

'Killhand! Killhand!' chanted the Nightbeasts, thrusting their

way through the thorn barrier.

 

'Galloperspawn, you are mine!' dribbled Krulshards,

advancing on the door, his bone black fingers between the

thorns.

 

'No!' shouted Thane, slashing with his dagger at the

Nightbeast's claws, but instead of Nightbeast his blade

touched a soft white wall of tiny flowers.

 

'It is the magic!' he whispered, gazing in wonder at the night

flowers. 'Nevian will keep us safe until the new sun rises. It is

carved in the legend on the lintel above the door. Esteron, we

are safe!'

 

The heavy, sweet scent from the nightflowers filled the

Wayhouse, bringing blissful sleep to Thane and Esteron,

shutting out their fear and pain. For it was written by the Lord

 

68

 

of Daylight that none who treasure the light need fear the

powers of darkness for the space of one night while they

rested in the Wayhouse hut of thorns.

 

'Killhand! Galloperspawn!' screamed Krulshards, retreating

from the Wayhouse and spreading his malice to blot out the

starlight that reflected from the tiny white flowers. But the more

the Nightbeasts assaulted the walls or tore at the doorway the

more petal cases opened until the Wayhouse was buried

beneath deep banks of brilliant nightflowers that dazzled and

blinded, and where the Nightbeasts touched the white petals

they burned their claws, giving off a bitter smell that drove

them back. Krulshards spat at the hut and looked at the greying

sky. He drew his Nightbeasts around him into a circle of

blackest shadows.

 

'Tomorrow,' he dribbled, touching the raw sinews that

Silverwing had torn open, 'when the sun touches the World's

Edge as these foul flowers close, put on your wolEskin eye

shields and destroy the Wayhouse. Tear it stone from stone

and bring Hand's head to the City of Night. In the darkness I

shall pluck out his eyes and feed them to my blind beasts.'

 

'Killhand! Killhandl' the Nightbeasts chanted, moving in a

slow circle, spears interlocked, waiting for the magic to fade.

 

Krulshards gathered the malice into heavy black folds of

hatred about his shoulders and summoned Kerzolde to his side.

 

'We are too few to risk battle here. If that owl brings warriors

or Warhorses to Thanehand's aid we are doomed. Come, there

is an old enemy in Elundium, with a tattoo in blue and gold

upon his arm, we shall destroy him before the new sun rises.'

 

'Who, Master?' Kerzolde asked, running to keep pace with

Krulshards' giant strides as he took the ancient road into the

heart of Elundium.

 

 

'Archerorm, the begetter of the foul Archer who did this!'

snarled Krulshards, throwing back the malice to reveal the

ragged hole Kyot's arrow had made in his shoulder.

 

69

 

 

A noise in the blackened smoke hole brought Thane to his

feet, dagger ready, but he eased his grip on the hilt and

laughed with joy as the shadow of Mulcade crossed the

Wayhouse floor. 'You have brought the morning,' he cried,

feeling the owl's dew-wet talons on his arm. Mulcade hooted

softly, bobbing his head backwards and forwards.

 

'Esteron,' Thane whispered as the Warhorse struggled to

his feet, 'Mulcade has seen the new sun. Here, touch the

jewels of daybreak before they vanish.'

 

Esteron stretched his neck and brushed his muzzle across

Mulcade's talons, feeling the beginnings of a new day.

 

'Soon we must part,' whispered Thane, collecting his

courage and turning towards the door, remembering now in

their last brief moments together all the little things that had

bound them, that had made their love so strong. That first

moment in the sand school, far away in the Granite City,

when Esteron had been wild and set on killing him, but the

owl had made him spare his life. He smiled, remembering

how he had named him Esteron. Mulcade tightened his talons

on Thane's arm making him look into his own eyes.

 

'How could I forget,' he laughed, 'how you stooped to my

shoulder and we started our journey to World's End so long

ago? I love you both more than life itself. Hurry to Underfall

and seek out the Healer.'

 

Esteron snorted fiercely, nudging Thane's shoulder. The

flowers were fading and the new morning's light was streaming

into the hut through the ruined walls. Mulcade shrieked a

warning, for beyond the closing petal cases he saw the

Nightbeasts' shadow circle rising up to hide the sunlight.

Thane ran to the doorway and looked out into the sun. The

Nightbeasts were advancing on the hut.

 

'Give me a moment to clear the way,' he called and jumping

through the thorn barrier he plunged the dagger into the

nearest beast. It screamed, stumbling blindly against him,

slashing with a rusty jagged blade above Thane's head. Thane

jerked the dagger free and attacked the next, felling it with

 

70

 

one upward thrust. He hesitated before tackling the third and

circled it on tiptoe, carefully studying its face. It was blind; it

had a layer of skin over its eyes to protect them from the

daylight. Thane laughed; the beast spun round, following his

voice. Roaring, it called the other beasts to where Thane

stood. He stayed perfectly still with bated breath, poised on

the balls of his feet, until the Nightbeasts' spearblades were a

handspan from his chest.

 

'Nigh/beasts!' he shouted, ducking and scooping up a

handful of stones before he slipped sideways as the Nightbeasts

lunged forward, impaling each other, screaming as the

spear blades tore through their scaly armour. 'Now go!'

Thane shouted, scattering the stones amongst the Nightbeasts

as he urged Esteron over the threshold stone. The

Nightbeasts stumbled into one another, following the noise of

the stones while, far away, beyond the Nightbeasts' screams,

the first blackbird burst into song and the new sun spread its

warmth across the ancient road, drying out the jewels of the

morning.

 

'Go quickly,' Thane urged, helping the crippled horse on

to the empty Greenway. Esteron snorted through the pain and

tried to trot, Mulcade hovered above him, talons spread ready

to stoop to his defence.

 

'I love you both,' Thane called out, running back through

the Nightbeasts, taunting them with his voice and throwing

handfuls of sharp stones to distract them from the fleeing

horse, drawing them after him towards Notley Marsh.

 

'Killhand! Killhand!' the Nightbeasts chanted, following

his voice in a ragged line. Thane ran on ahead of them as fast

as he could, keeping to the centre of the road. When he

reached the rim of the steep valley that led down into Notley

Marsh he looked back and saw them spread out across the

road, close to his heels.

 

71

 

 

Krulshards Stumble Hill

 

Something more terrible than death had come with the grey

hours, that much old Archerorm could feel in his bones and

smell on the dry nightwind. It made him shiver and the fear of

it gnawed at his stomach as he paced the empty Wayhouse

Tower on Stumble Hill. It had come in the dead of night,

encircling the Wayhouse, looking for weakness and a way to

enter, but finding none it had settled before the great wooden

doors, pressing against the iron studding and fiercely rattling

the locks. Archer dared not guess at what, or who, had come

to the tower, and he feared each shadow that filled the dark

courtyard. The tattoo of the owl carrying the sword itched

upon his arm and, pulling his sleeve away, he gazed at the

mark Nevian had traced all those suns ago beneath the walls

of Underfall and gasped, for the colours burned with a fierce

light, driving the shadows out of the courtyard.

 

'Nevian,' he cried, lifting his bow arm above his head. 'You

have lit my darkest hour. Now I have the power to see who

haunts the road before my door!'

 

Archer hurried into the armoury and selected the best,

strongest bow and the heaviest quiver of new-forged arrows.

He climbed to the top of the tower and looked through the

Glass of Orm at the road below.

 

'Krulshards!' he cried, stepping quickly back from the

glass, not daring to raise his eyes to look at the Nightmare that

had covered the Causeway and pressed his black hatred

against the door.

 

72

 

:

 

'Trueflightorm,' a voice hissed, splitting the night air as it

rose up out of the malice. 'I have not forgotten your name,

foul Archer, nor have I forgotten how you once stood between

me and victory over the daylight, destroying my shadow circle

with the Bow of Orm.'

 

Archer took shallow breaths; the palms of his hands were

growing wet with fear as he gripped the oiled wooden bow

tightly.

 

'I have come to claim you, Trueflightorm, and keep you in

the darkness, for ever sightless from the sun,' sneered the

voice of hatred.

 

'Nightmare!' cried Archer, necking an arrow on to the

string and aiming into the shadowy folds of the malice. 'You

could not kill me on the Causeway Road before the gates of

Underfall. You shall not, by the might of my arm, take me

now!'

 

Cruel laughter filled the night air as a gnarled bone black

hand reached up out of the malice, snatched the arrow as it

flew and snapped it in two. 'Your son, foul Archer, has the

Bow of Orm,' mocked Krulshards, 'and he lies dead in the

City of Night. You cannot harm me, Archerorm, nor can

these doors keep me out.'

 

Krulshards snarled, curling his lips back agross his ragged

teeth, and threw the weight of his malice against the doors.

Twice the tree-thick timbers rocked backwards and forwards

before the locks smashed into a thousand pieces. 'You are

mine!' he hissed, entering the courtyard.

 

'NO!' shouted Archer, leaping down the tower steps four at

a time. Tears of rage filled his eyes and anger boiled in his

heart. 'I shall avenge Kyot's death even without the Bow of

Orm, and I will bring his body out of the depths of night to see

the sunlight once more. Do you hear me, foulest Nightmare,

dirtier of daylight? I shall drive you out of my house before the

new sun rises!'

 

'Run!' mocked Krulshards, moving forward. 'Hide, puller

 

73

 

 

aof toy bows, but I will find you and keep you beyond the

candlelight for ever.'

 

'Run!' replied Archer, coldly, stepping into the courtyard and

necking another arrow on to the string. 'You have dared to

enter my house without my leave, bringing black news of

despair.'

 

'I bring more than black news!' spat the Master of

Nightmares, 'I bring defeat and darkness to all Elundium!'

 

Archer drew the bow taut and released the arrow at the

centre of the malice, putting all his strength behind the shot,

but Krulshards laughed, opened the malice and again caught

the arrow in mid-flight, throwing it harmlessly across the

cobbles.

 

'You cannot hurt me, foolish Archer. You gave away the

only bow in all Elundium with that power and it now lies broken

in the City of Night beneath your son's body!'

 

The anger in Archer's heart turned icy cold as he

remembered Nevian's words, 'Keep safe the Bow of Orm, and let no

other hand butyours upon the string until the Nightmare is dead. Use

none but the f ne-forged glass arrow-heads of Clatterford if you wish

to pierce the centre of the darkness.'

 

'I have been a blind fool, over-anxious to let Kyot do my

work. I should never have let him lead the Archers of Stumble

Hill into battle before the Gates of Night. It was my place with

the Bow of Orm to stand against this Nightmare.'

 

Rubbing away a tear upon his sleeve Archer reached back

into the quiver and took the third arrow, cursing its blunt steel

edge and wishing his hand was closing upon the cold crystal

blades of Clatterford. Wetting the dull steel point with his

tongue he necked the arrow on to his bow and faced the dark

shape that stood between the ruined doors.

 

'Krulshards!' he cried, moving quickly across the courtyard

until his back was firmly braced against the solid oak shooting

butt. 'I remember your name, Nightmare, and the curse you laid

on Elundium. I am the Wayhouse Keeper of Stumble Hill, set

upon the Greenway's edge to defeat your foul kind.

 

74

 

Even without the Bow of Orm I have the power to send an

arrow strike into your black heart. Look to the tattoo upon my

arm!'

 

Krulshards hesitated, wrapping the malice tightly about his

shoulders. Perhaps this Archer had more strength. Perhaps he

did have the power to stand against the darkness. 'Kerzolde!'

he rasped, pushing his Captain before him. 'Take the Archer's

bow and break it across your knee.'

 

Kerzolde rushed at the Archer, a broad-bladed spear in his

good claw, only to be knocked off his feet, screaming, as

Archer's arrow pierced his armour and sank deep into his

chest. Kerzolde crawled back to his Master, clutching at the

embedded shaft with his broken claw.

 

'Guard the door!' Krulshards hissed, wrenching the blade of

the arrow free and pushing Kerzolde roughly out of his path.

 

Archer acted quickly in the few moments it took Krulshards

to pull the arrow. He dug deeply into his jerkin pocket to find

the spare bow string and with it he bound himself against the

oak shooting butt. 'None will pass this spot,' he whispered

through trembling lips, pulling the string so tight that it cut

painfully into his sides. Now his mind would be free to face the

Master of Nightmares. No matter how much he wanted to run

there was no escape. Grimly he nocked another arrow on to the

string and sang Kyot's name aloud as he brought his eyes level

with the Master of Nightmares.

 

'Now, Nightmare, you shall know who is the Keeper of

Stumble Hill. By the light that burns on my arm you shall not

enter this Wayhouse. It is closed to all your foul kind.'

 

Krulshards threw the malice back across his shoulder and

charged at Archer, a black-bladed spear in his hands. Archer

bent the bow until it cried out, and loosed the arrow at the

 

 

Nightmare's heart. He laughed to see a ragged tear in

Krulshard's shoulder and knew that Kyot had used well the

great Bow of Orm before his death. Archer's laughter turned

into a scream as Krulshards' spear blade struck his chest,

 

75

 

 

shattering his rib cage, tearing through his chest to pin him on

to the shooting butt.

 

'Kyot,Ilove you!' he cried, grinding his teeth against the

pain, but lifting his eyes he saw Krulshards on his knees, both

hands clutching on the arrow-shaft in his chest.

 

Krulshards rose to his feet, the malice boiling with hatred,

and snapped the arrow-shaft in two, closing his fingers

around the steel arrow-head. He advanced across the cobbles,

molten steel from the arrow-head dripping between his

fingers. Slowly, painfully, and without hope, the old Archer

reached back into his quiver, knowing the steel was no match

for the Nightmare, wishing with all his heart that his fingers

could touch an arrow from Clatterford, with sunlight trapped

in the cool glass blade. That would have found a way through

the malice and it would have avenged Kyot's death.

 

'Death! Darkness!' spat Krulshards, throwing his weight

against the spear shaft, forcing the blade deeper into the oak

post. Archer screamed as the steel bit into him, his hand

gripping the smooth polished shaft of the arrow. With the

last of his strength he took the arrow and necked it on to the

bow. Screwing his eyes tightly shut he cursed all Nightmare

shapes, drew the string tight and let the arrow go, aiming it

deep into the black shadows of the malice. Bright blazed the

tattooed owl upon his arm, lighting a path through the shadowy

folds that threatened to engulf him. 'With this arrow I have

fulfilled my pledges to the Granite King, and kept this

Wayhouse safe through the darkest reaches of the night.'

 

'You shall not see the new sun rise!' Krulshards screamed

at him as the arrow knocked him backwards, forcing him

across the cobbles, slicing through his rotten flesh and cutting

him to the bone. 'You will die slowly for this,' he hissed, rage

dribbling through his quivering lips as he advanced on

Archer, his hands outstretched to tear at his face. Archer

looked up through his tears at the paling dawn sky, knowing

that he lacked the strength to take another arrow from the

quiver.

 

7

 

i

 

.

 

'I have won the morning,' he whispered, hearing far away

the first blackbird break the dawn silence, filling the Greenway

with sweet music. Krulshards' shadow blocked out the

dawn light as he spread the malice in terrible hatred above

Archer's head.

 

'Trueflightorm,' Krulshards whispered in a voice heavy

with the gloat of victory, 'you will pay dearly for your skill with

the bow.'

 

He reached back into the shadows of the malice, unhooked

a long curved knife and tested the cutting edge against

Archer's throat, drawing a fine trickle of blood across the

black metal blade. 'I could kill you now, Archer, with one

stroke of this blade, but that is far too humble a death for one

who dares to stand against me, the Master of Nightbeasts.

No, oh no!' he hissed, putting his face so close to Archer's

that the old man could almost taste the foul odour of

death.

 

'I shall leave you alive, Trueflight, the greatest Archer in all

Elundium. You will be blind to your quarry and unable to

reach into the quiver or take up the bow.'

 

Laughing, Krulshards gripped both of Archer's hands,

raised the curved blade to flash in the dawn sunlight and

brought it slicing down across the bowman's wrists. Archer

screamed, straining against the binding bowstring, but there

was no escape. The tattoo of the owl in blue and gold burst

into blinding light above his bleeding stump.

 

'Curse you, Nevian,' Krulshards hissed, burying his head

from the light in the malice and reaching for Archer's eyes

with his bone black fingers. Archer sobbed through the pain,

gasping in shallow breaths as he twisted his head from left to

right trying to avoid the Nightmare fingernails that tore at his

face.

 

 

'I can see you without eyes,' he cried, as the Nightmare's

nails hooked and gouged into his face, 'and I will avenge the

death of my son, Kyot, without my hands upon the bow. Mark

well my words, Nightmare, for I shall follow you beyond

 

77

 

 

death. The Great Bow of Orm will haunt you and bring light

into the City of Night.'

 

Slowly Archer lifted his bleeding tattoo arm and thrust it

through the folds of the malice into Krulshards' face, and the

tattoo burned the Nightmare's raw muscles with the colours

of a new morning, driving the Master of Nightbeasts out

beyond the Wayhouse doors on to the Greenway.

 

'I shall follow you,' Archer wept through bloody tears,

tensing himself for the next attack, but the Wayhouse was

empty. Krulshards had fled, taking his Captainbeast, Kerzolde,

with him. Early sunlight filled the courtyard, falling

gently in a golden halo around Archer's bowed head, and he

wept, mumbling over and over as his life blood soaked into the

cobbles. He did not feel the sun move through the stations of

the day, nor see the shadows draw long in the evening, nor

hear nor sense the lone figure enter through the broken

doorway.

 

'Archer, oh Archer,' a soft voice called out, 'what has the

Nightmare done to you?'

 

78

 

The Passing of Archerorm

 

Thane moved quickly down the steep slope into the marshes.

Behind him he could hear the pursuing Nightbeasts chanting

his name, 'Killhand, Galloperspawn!' He knew they were

almost blind in the daylight but all hope of slipping past them

vanished for they had spread out in a grim arc of hate. They

were beating every tree and bush with their cruel-bladed

spears and long curved scythes.

 

'Nigh/beasts!' he whispered, catching his breath and

plunging into the undergrowth beside the road for a moment'

s rest. 'I will have to run faster than the east wind to

reach Woodsedge before these Nightbeasts catch me.'

 

Rising shakily to his feet he took off his heavy metal helm

and threw it aside. He missed the protection of the metal shirt

outside the hut of thorns as he dodged amongst the Nightbeasts'

spear blades but now he was truly glad he had spread it

across Esteron's back; the cut-down half-cloak was easier to

wear and did not snag his every stride. Bending low, he ran

forward, drawing in deep breaths with every loping stride.

Gradually as the day wore on he drew ahead of the Nightbeasts

and the sounds of pursuit fell away to a distant

murmur. Now he was in the centre of the marsh and all

around him the air grew heavy with the smell of stagnant

water as it hissed and bubbled in black pools beside the road.

Giant dragonflies hovered, beating the still air with their

wings; marsh spiders scuttled away from beneath his hurrying

feet. There was no rest as he forced his feet on.

 

79

 

 

Ahead of him he saw the ring of ash from his earlier battle

with the Nightbeasts on his way to Underfall. He laughed and

paused for breath, crouching to suck in great lungfuls of air. 'If

the Battle Owls or the Border Runners were with me I would

turn and fight,' he muttered, rising to his feet. Holding his

breath he listened to the marsh silence, straining his ears for

sounds of pursuit. Far away he could hear that they were still

following him, closing the gap with each moment he rested.

He leapt forward in the stagnant silence. 'I must run until my

bones crack and my muscles knot with cramp,' he hissed in

the silence. 'I must run to Elionbel.'

 

With each footfall the ground grew firmer beneath his feet.

He was climbing out of Notley Marsh towards the great

Greenway crossroads that led to Stumble Hill. 'I must not

stop again,' he said to himself, 'until I reach the Wayhouse

Tower. There I will take breath and fight these Nightbeasts

with a strike of Archers at my side.'

 

Bending low he pushed on, kicking against the steepness of

the valley, following the winding road up until it breasted the

valley's rim. Here he paused to look back and he saw the

Nightbeasts spread out across the fire-burned road. They

were fewer now, running in close order and gaining on him

with every stride.

 

'The darkness!' he gasped, in a tired voice, looking at the

lengthening shadows on the valley floor. 'It must give the

Nightbeasts new strength. Oh Esteron, if only I had your gift

of speed to outrun these beasts, or Mulcade's power to rise up

into the soft evening air and escape!'

 

'Killhand! Killhand!' rose the distant chant from the black

bubbling marshes below. Thane could just hear the dry rattle

of their armour; they were on the first steps of the steep

ascent. Turning, he fled, running as fast as his tired legs

would take him. 'Run or die,' he repeated in rhythm with his

pounding heart, 'Run or die,' until he could run no further.

He stopped, bent double, shaking and choking for breath.

Slowly he straightened, blinking against the stinging sweat

 

80

 

-

 

 

i

 

,,

 

~mu.

 

that was trickling into his eyes and looked at the silhouette of

the Wayhouse Tower, etched in dark colours against the

evening sky.

 

'Stumble Hill,' he gasped, looking back across his shoulder

towards the marshes. The road was straight and empty; he

had outrun the Nightbeasts and safety waited a hundred paces

before him. Clenching his fist he hurried forwards, eager to

take a strike of Archer's best bowmen back towards Notley

Marsh and destroy the Nightbeasts.

 

Looking up at the Wayhouse he hesitated, a frown creased

his dirty, sweat-stained forehead. Something was wrong. He

took deep breaths to steady his racing heart and listened to

the early night sounds. He strained his ears for the slightest

clue. The hairs at the base of his neck began to prickle. Far

away on the edge of the wind he could hear the sounds of

pursuit, but here on Stumble Hill the evening held its breath,

there were no night sounds. He searched the dark bulk of the

Wayhouse but nothing moved, the tower stood wrapped in

silence. Fearfully he drew his dagger and began cautiously to

climb the hill, looking into each shadow and testing each dark

shape with the point of his blade until he stood upon the

Causeway, between the broken doors.

 

'Krulshards!' he hissed, moving noiselessly into the centre

of the courtyard, balancing lightly on his toes as he swept his

gaze from left to right.

 

'Archer?' he whispered, seeing the shape of the figure in

the gloomy darkness beneath the centre archway that led into

the Wayhouse.

 

 

'Who dares enter?' a weak voice cried out. A blinding light

suddenly burned upon the figure's arm, casting a giant

shadow across the cobbles from the cruel spear shaft that

pinned it on to the oaken shooting butt.

 

'Archer,' Thane called softly, crossing the courtyard and

kneeling beside the old man. 'Who has done this to you?' he

wept, gently taking the bleeding stumps into his hands.

 

'Thane, Thane is that you?' Archer cried, searching in the

 

81

 

 

a82

 

direction of Thane's voice. 'The Nightmare said that Kyot is

dead, lost for ever in the City of Might. He said that the Bow of

Orm lay broken beneath him.' Archer coughed, choking over

the words, crying bloody tears. 'Oh, Thane, I know it was the

truth for I saw with my own eyes the mark of the arrow strike in

the Nightmare's shoulder. I know that Kyot used the bow well

before he died.'

 

Thane lifted Archer's ruined arm and kissed the tattoo mark

then, taking the scarred and bloody head into his arms, he

whispered gently, 'Kyot is alive and well; he sits at the Battle

Council before the doors of Underfall. Together we won a great

victory before the Gates of Night. In the new daylight he will

lead your strikes of Archers back home. Have courage, my

Lord, he will be with you soon.'

 

'There is no time to waste,' Archer whispered urgently.

'Listen to me, child, while there is still breath in my body. Kyot

must be well armed to face the Nightmare, Krulshards. He must

follow him and stand in my place.'

 

Thane leaned closer to catch every word, putting his ear to

Archer's blood-encrusted lips.

 

'Before you were born, long before the great battle to win

World's End had even begun, Nevian, the Master of Magic,

took me into the heart of Mantern's Forest into a secret grove

of black yew trees and showed me the tree, the perfect yew

tree, and ordered me to cut only enough wood for two great

bongs.' archer paused, drawing in shallow breaths. 'If ever the

Bow of Orm is broken seek out that other bow. Remember it has

my mark upon it.'

 

'Who has the other bow?' Thane asked. 'Where is it hidden?'

 

Archer coughed, new blood gurgled in his throat. 'The

arrows,' he mumbled, deaf to the question, 'must be hotforged

and drawn sharp at Clatterford by the Arrowmaster who knows

of the light!'

 

'What is his name?' Thane urged gently, feeling Archer

begin to slump against him.

 

'Fairday of Clatterford,' Archer cried, straining against the

spear blade. 'Tell him that you need new arrows shaped in

glass. Tell him that Krulshards, the Nightmare of Darkness, has

come forth into Elundium. Tell him, child, that I have sent you.'

 

Archer slumped forwards and then feebly tried to lift his

head, 'Free me, Thane,' he whispered, turning his bloody head

towards where Thane knelt. 'Free me, Thane, from the binding

cord of my fate. Cut me loose.' Thane gripped the spear shaft

with both hands and, using all his strength, wrenched it free.

Archer slumped forward against the bloody bow string. Thane

cut the string with one sweep of his dagger and carefully laid

the old man on the cobbles. Suddenly, roaring screams broke

the night silence just beyond the broken entrance. Thane's

pursuers had reached the Wayhouse. Turning, he crouched

ready.

 

'I will avenge you, Archer!' he cried, reaching for the fallen

bow at Archer's side, but he hesitated. He was a swordsman

trained with the skills of Gildersleeves. Quickly he threw the

bow aside and drew the dagger that Duclos had given him.

 

'Killhand, the Galloperspawn!' rose the Nightbeast chant.

Five shapes, perhaps ten, their numbers were difficult to count

as they swayed forwards in an ever-changing pattern,

swallowing the courtyard beneath their foul shadows.

 

Archer lifted his head, a frown cracking the dried blood on

his forehead. As he listened, a large tear, blood streaked,

escaped down his cheek. 'Thane!' he whispered, 'I can hear the

Nightbeast chant, but I cannot see them. I am powerless in this

darkness, alone and helpless!'

 

'No, no,' whispered Thane, cradling Archer's head, 'I will

keep you safe until Kyot comes. You need fear nothing that

moves in the night.' Archer wept, lifting his mutilated arm with

the tattoo mark towards the Nightbeasts. 'There is no time left

for me, Thane. Fate's hand is upon my shoulder. Tell Kyot of

Clatterford.'

 

 

Archer's head slipped sideways and his last breath misted

 

83

 

 

the steel arrow-head that lay unused in the quiver. Thane

rose to his feet and leapt forward. Through blurring, angry

tears Thane slashed with the dagger, cutting into the

nearest Mghtbeast, and as the first drop of its blood splashed

on to the cobbles the tattoo on Archer's arm burned with a

white fire, blinding the Nightbeasts, sending them stumbling

into one another. Thane strode forward amongst them,

slashing and stabbing, driven on by the terrible sight of

Kyot's father.

 

'I will build a wall of Nightmare dead! Carrion heaps to

shadow the sun!' he cried, letting the rage and anger guide his

dagger arm. Silence once again filled the courtyard, and the

light from the tattoo began to fade. The shadows softened and

grew deeper. Thane lowered the dagger and let the anger

melt away. Before him, in a wide crescent, the Mghtbeasts lay

piled to the height of his shoulders, and none had come

within a dagger's length of where Archer lay. The anger had

now gone, he felt alone, empty and drained of strength. He

shivered, drawing the ragged half-cloak tightly about his

shoulders, and knelt beside Archer.

 

'I have killed the Nightbeasts. You can rest the watches of

the night in peace,' he whispered, unclasping the old man's

cloak and laying it across his body. Already the cold air had

taken the warmth out of Archer's flesh and the tattoo had

faded to a soft phosphorescent glow.

 

A noise from the stable-yard made Thane freeze. Silently

he rose, his hand on his dagger, and made to step across the

courtyard, but as he left Archer's side the tattoo flared

brightly through the weave of the cloak and then faded back

into a soft glow.

 

'Beyond death, this Wayhouse will be safe. None will dare

enter while the tattoo glows!' he thought in wonder.

 

Widening his eyes against the darkness Thane entered the

stable-yard and slipped the iron latch upon the long barn

where the relay horses were stabled. Hooves clattered on the

cobbles and somewhere in the shadows a horse snorted.

 

84

 

There was fear in the horse, Thane could sense it, the silent

fear of the hunted who, with bated breath and pounding

heart, crouch waiting for the hunter to pass. Quietly Thane

sought the spark he carried in his pocket, closed his fingers

around it and lifted it high above his head, squeezing it into

life. White eyes flashed in the darkness. Hoofbeats crashed on

the cobbles. Stumble, the last relay horse of the Wayhouse

Tower, lowered his head to charge. Bright spark light

reflected from the finely-woven battle coat that lay across his

back and long shadows leapt up from the bow and the quiver

of new-forged arrows fixed on to the pommel of the saddle.

Proudly he sprang forward.

 

'Stumble!' Thane cried, jumping out of the horse's path. 'It

is Thane!'

 

Stumble stopped and turned, casting sparks with his near

fore as he pawed the cobbles. 'Have you forgotten me? I am

Thane, Esteron's rider, Kyot's friend.'

 

The horse hesitated, snorting, uncertain, the whites of his

eyes still showing fear. Thane sheathed the dagger and

walked forward, his empty hands outstretched, remembering

the story Kyot had told him of how Archer had found

Stumble wandering on the Greenway, an orphan foal, how he

had taken him in and how every warrior loved him for his

quiet courage.

 

'Your master is dead,' he whispered, stroking the frightened

horse. 'He gave his life defending this house against the

most terrible Nightmare that has ever walked Elundium.'

 

Stumble whinnied, bowing his head, a great sadness filling

his soft gentle eyes. 'Will you help me?' Thane asked. 'Will

you carry me and follow the Master of Nightmares to seek

revenge?'

 

Stumble arched his neck, stretching the battle plaits woven

through his flowing mane and rubbed his muzzle against

Thane's arm, smelling the fabric of his ragged cloak and

 

 

remembering who stood before him.

 

'Come,' whispered Thane, taking the reins in his hand,

 

85

 

 

'come and see the greatness of your master. See how in death

he still protects his house!'

 

They stood together, side by side, in the main courtyard,

and watched the tattoo's warni colours glow blue and gold

beneath Archer's cloak. Stumble stretched his neck and

brushed his lips on the old man's cold cheek. Anger flashed in

his eyes and his ears flattened against the side of his head.

 

'Take me to Woodsedge!' Thane urged, springing up into

the saddle. 'I know the Nightmare seeks to destroy that

Wayhouse and steal Elionbel, the Keeper's daughter!'

 

Thane ran his hand across Stumble's shoulder until he

reached the heavy steel-ringed battle coat. 'We need speed to

catch Krulshards and this battle coat will slow us down. Better

to leave it here defending your master,' he said, dismounting

and loosening the girths. Gently Thane removed the heavy

chainmail coat and spread it over Archer's body. Before rising

from his knees he took the arm with the tattoo and laid it on

top of the battle coat across the old man's chest.

 

Stumble whinnied and stood quietly while Thane refitted

the saddle and remounted. 'Let us gallop to the Nightmare's

death,' he shouted, wheeling Stumble towards the ruined

doors and urging him into a canter.

 

'Wait!' he cried, reining the horse to a halt, 'I must leave

word for Kyot, his father pledged me to it.'

 

Dismounting, he ran back into the courtyard, 'How do I

leave a message?' he asked the empty shadows, 'How?'

 

86

 

The Battle Council Breaks Up

 

'Candlefool! Base meddler!' Tombel shouted, red-faced, his

hand upon the hilt of his Marching sword. Thoron stood

before him, waiting for the rage to subside, waiting for

Tombel to draw breath.

 

'I sent him to protect your daughter, Elionbel. It is his duty

to repair the damage he did by taking her love token into the

City of Night,' Thoron answered, in a firm quiet voice.

 

'Love token!' Tombel hissed, stepping a pace nearer to

Thoron. 'Not only is he not blood-worthy to carry Elionbel's

token but now he has gone galloping off at the Nightmare's

heels and I ordered him to the Battle Council!'

 

Thunderstone stepped quickly between them, pushing

both fighting blades down into the ground. 'Warriors, warriors,'

he soothed, 'this is not the place to settle differences

of blood. All Elundium totters on the brink of ruin. We must

act quickly, with bold purpose, to save the daylight.'

 

'He is not brood-worthy,' Tombel muttered, darkly, sheathing

his Marching sword.

 

Thunderstone frowned, caught Tombel by the arm and

turned him sharply towards the assembled warriors, whispering, '

You are the greatest Marcher Captain that Elundium has

ever known and yet you cannot see past the end of your nose.

Thane is more than just the son of a Candleman, he is a

leader of men, a force in the darkness stronger than any man

at this Battle Council. He brings life to old legends and

prophecies. Beware how you treat him!'

 

87

 

 

aTombel shrugged and begrudgingly extended his hand

towards Thoron. 'We will settle this squabble in the privacy of

the trophy room at Woodsedge when the siege lock- on the

Granite City has been broken and Krulshards is no more.'

 

Thoron reached out and took Tombel's hand. 'So be it!' he

replied, adding, 'If any Wayhouse stands for us to meet within!'

 

'Lord! Lord!' Kyot cried, turning all eyes towards the ancient

road that lead down from the hut of thorns. 'Esteron is on the

road, and my eyes tell me that he is gravely injured.'

 

Four Warhorses led by Equestrius broke away from the

crescent and galloped out across the Causeway to escort

Esteron to the Battle Council. Slowly he passed through the

ranks of silent warriors who watched the morning sunlight

shining on the steel links of Thane's torn mail shirt where it

protected his back and reflected the bright colours of the

summer scarf that he had wound about the cruel spear blade in

his flank.

 

'Esteron!' Thoron cried, unbinding the scarf to reveal the

terrible spear wound.

 

'Call for the Healer!' Thunderstone shouted, cutting away the

strips of cloak that held the metal shirt across the horse's back.

 

Merion broke through the press of warriors and, without a

word, led Esteron away into the fortress of Underfall. 'It will take

all my skill,' he whispered to Esteron, as he set out a tray of

cubed silver knives and needles threaded with twists of gold,

'but I will make you whole again to run the Greenways.'

 

Mulcade hooted and settled on a low beam to watch the

Healer perform his magic.

 

'Thane must lie injured somewhere out there!' Kyot cried,

throwing his saddle across Sprint's back.

 

'More likely he is dead,' Tombel answered crossly. 'I feared to

let him go alone. The Greenways are a dangerous place now

that Krulshards is loose in Elundium. Nevian only knows how

many Nightbeasts are ahead on the Greenways.'

 

88

 

'I will find him!' Kyot shouted, leaping into the saddle and

spurring Sprint up through the bordering dyke on to the

Causeway.

 

'Wait! Wait!' shouted Tombel, striding after Kyot, but his

voice was lost in the thunder of Sprint's hooves.

 

'It is madness of youth to tread beyond our counselling,'

Thunderstone muttered, taking the summer scarf from Thoron's

hands and carefully folding it away beneath his cloak.

 

The Battle Council was dissolving into a rout. Men and

horses swept this way and that, leaderless, across the

Causeway Field. The Archer strikes that Kyot had led to the

battle on the high plateau were readying themselves to follow

him. The Gallopers of World's End milled in disorder, calling

Thoron to lead them. Duclos, the Swordsman, looked at the

rising tide of chaos and ran into the fortress of Underfall. He

climbed up through the galleries until he stood before the

daylight bell. Unsheathing his best blade he struck the bell. Full

seven strokes it took to bring order to the Causeway Field

below.

 

Thunderstone raised his horse-tail sword in salute to Duclos

and without delay or further council he marshalled the warriors

into long lines of Marching men, squadrons of Gallopers and

tightly-formed strikes of Archers.

 

'Warriors!' he shouted in a grim voice, 'you march without

delay on the Granite City to break the siege lock and rescue the

King. Tombel will lead the Marchers and the Archers, Thoron

will lead the horsemen and scout the road ahead. Prepare the

baggage trains!'

 

The travelling gear was packed away. The horses were

saddled, and the crowded courtyards were a bustle of activity

as the warriors assembled in two long widening columns that

led down to the Causeway. Thunderstone's eyes were full of

 

 

tears as he stood between the ruined doors awaiting the final

farewells. Equestrius had gathered all the Warhorses until they

stood, rank upon rank, on either side of the warriors, and the

Border Runners had assembled in a great pack that

 

89

 

 

stretched across the Causeway Fields. Eagle Owl rose up

from Thoron's shoulder and drew the Battle Birds into a

mighty stoop whose shadow darkened the sky as they wheeled

and swooped across the roofs of Underfall.

 

'It is time!' Tombel said, moving forward and taking

Thunderstone's hand, 'for old friends to say goodbye, and

follow their fate at the Nightmare's heels.'

 

'So be it!' Thunderstone cried, lifting the horse-tail sword

to flash in the noonday sunlight. 'We shall meet again beneath

these very walls!'

 

'You have no saddle or bridle!' Thunderstone called out to

Thoron as he climbed on to Equestrius' back.

 

Thoron laughed, and bent low over the horse's back. 'My

saddle and bridle lie somewhere on the road to Woodsedge,

wherever Esteron ran on to that foul spear blade. I will find

them, and in his honour will put them on Equestrius.

Meanwhile keep Esteron safe for Thane and heal him

quickly, for I know he frets for the road.'

 

'Kingspeed!' shouted Thunderstone, as the two columns

began to move slowly forward.

 

'Wait!' called Thoron, halting the procession, as Willow

rushed to stand before him. 'What is it, child?' he asked,

bending forward.

 

'Forgive me,' Willow whispered timidly, 'but I still cannot

find Evening Star and we are about to start on the journey.'

 

Thoron frowned, saying, 'She must be found. I will help

you, Willow, but first a question, little warrior. Does freedom

from the City of Night belong to both of you?'

 

'Yes, of course, but we must be together; she is all I have.'

 

'Willow,' Thoron said sadly, 'you have everything. The sun,

the stars, the wind upon your face. Evening Star has her

freedom, which may lead her on a different path to yours.

Would you begrudge her the wild forest or the empty

grasslands, to follow you and your people to the Granite City?

Remember she is an Errant horse and all Elundium is her

home. You have yet to seek a place to call your own.'

 

90

 

l

l

 

.~

 

Willow looked down at the cobbles and felt the noonday

breezes ruffle his hair. 'No,' he whispered. 'No. I would

rather have died in the City of Night than hold her for one

moment against her wishes.'

 

'Then look up, champion of the heather meadows, and

warrior of the high plateau, look up and rejoice!' laughed

Thoron, pointing past Willow towards the Causeway Road.

 

'Star! Star!' shouted Willow, seeing the old mare for the

first time, and he turned and rushed down on to the

Causeway to the place where she stood surrounded by a small

crescent of Warhorses. The shouts of his battle honours

before the Gates of Night were but whispers in his ears as he

threw his arms around Evening Star's neck. With a great

effort he blinked back his tears as the old mare rubbed her

head against his chest.

 

'Run wild and free,' he whispered, then Star's gentle voice

filled his mind.

 

'Our escape from the darkness made a bond that nothing

can break.'

 

Willow moved back a pace and looked at the beautiful foal

nudging at Star's flank and smiled.

 

'You will be safer with the Warhorses. They will be able to

guard you far better than I!'

 

 

Star whinnied, brushing her soft muzzle against his cheek.

'We shall meet again, Willow, I promise. When my foal is full

grown and powerful we shall see each other, for fate has

bound us together.'

 

'Star, one thing before we part.'

 

'Ask, Willow. If it is within my power you shall have it.'

 

'A lock of mane to hold when I am all alone, to touch and

remember how we won the light.'

 

'Use the blade that freed us and gladly take it,' the old mare

replied.

 

With a careful hand Willow cut a lock of mane and held it

tightly, swallowing back the tears.

 

'If danger threatens you, wherever you are in this beautiful

 

91

 

 

land, call out my name and I shall come, no matter how great

the distance that lies between us.'

 

Willow quickly turned his head, bowed with grief, and

retraced his footsteps to Equestrius' side. A strong familiar

voice floated through his head as Equestrius spoke. 'Willow

Leaf. Fate has driven you hard for others' benefit, leaving you

with a great sorrow in your heart. Yet you shall leave this place

with a gift too great to give to Kings. Evening Star must travel

with the Warhorses for the foal's protection, but when he

comes of age he shall be yours to ride, and as a mark of the

giving you shall name him the first time you sit upon his back.'

 

'Then I really will see Evening Star again?'

 

'Yes, many times.'

 

Willow turned, shading his eyes, and saw Star trotting away

towards the eaves of Mantern's Forest, surrounded by a great

company of Warhorses.

 

'Many limes!' he laughed, running to lead his people on to

the Causeway. 'We will clear the Greenways and garden the

roads as we travel!' he shouted. 'We will repay these people

for our freedom. Come, Tunnellers!'

 

'Forward, warriors!' shouted Tombel.

 

'Forward!' hooted Eagle Owl, hovering impatiently, far

above World's End, watching the ruin and chaos spreading as

a black shadow across Elundium.

 

92

 

Firldirlg the Secret Road

 

Fine stone chips crunched beneath King Holbian's iron-shod

boots as he paced along the top of the innermost wall of the

Granite City.

 

'We are near defeat, Breakmaster,' he muttered, without

turning his head towards the horseman or checking the

measure of his stride. Breakmaster hunched his shoulders

and looked out despairingly across the ruins of the city.

 

'Where are all those foul Nightbeasts hatched?' he asked,

watching the shadows begin to move, with the weakening of

the sunlight. 'They have us siege-trapped, caught tighter than

rats in a barrel of wax.'

 

Holbian turned, grim faced, to Breakmaster. 'Would you

still, if you had the choice, ride with me now that defeat

washes in a black tide against our last defence? We have

nowhere left to run, brave warrior.'

 

Breakmaster quickly knelt. 'Lord, greatest of Granite

Kings,' he said, and drawing the hilt of his sword he offered it

up to the King.

 

'Rise, true friend,' whispered Holbian, stretching a hand to

Breakmaster, 'for we shall face death together as the new sun

rises whether we wish it or not.'

 

'Take the Marchers and the Gallopers, Lord. Marshal

them into a hollow column and force a passage through the

lower circles of the city. Lead us out on to the Greenway.'

 

King Holbian slowly shook his head and pointed down into

the innermost circle, 'I could not abandon them, Break

 

93

 

 

amaster, they are my people. I could not save myself and leave

them here. The Nightbeasts would be amongst them before we

had ridden two leagues.'

 

Breakmaster looked down, blinking his eyes against the haze

of blue smoke that rose up from the cluster of cooking fires in

the shadow of the inner wall. The crowds of city folk moved

slowly, almost aimlessly, around and around the sheer walls of

Candlebane Hall. Clearly there was nowhere to escape these

Nightbeasts.

 

King Holbian sighed and turned to the narrow steps that led

down into the inner circle. 'We have come to it, friend, the last

night of the Granite Kings. I will fall with my city. Set my

standard before the doors of Candlebane Hall that I may die

defending my people with the rays of a new sun shining on my

face.'

 

'Lord, Lord!' implored Breakmaster. 'Arm the people. Let

them make the Nightbeasts pay dearly for the doors of

Candlebane Hall.'

 

Holbian smiled softly at Breakmaster. 'These people are not

warriors, my friend, but simple craftsmen, cryers, servers and

candlemen, they are the life blood of tile city. You and I and

chose few Marchers and Gallopers with us must carry the

burden of defending what is left of the city, but arm them if you

wish. Break open tile armoury, let every man, woman and child

be armed if they wish it.'

 

'Who has the key?' Breakmaster asked, his foot upon the

first step.

 

'Chancellor Proudpurse,' called the King, turning for a last

look at She setting sun.

 

Breakmaster searched through the crowds in the Inner Circle

but Proudpurse was nowhere to be found. Grey Goose fell into

step with the hurrying horseman, asking whom he sought, and

laughed at the reply, pointing with the tip of a steel arrowhead

towards the towers of Granite.

 

'I saw him and his son, Silverpurse, making for the armoury

just as the masons were sealing the inner circle of the city.'

 

94

 

.~

 

::'

 

. .

 

,

I

Hi

 

Breakmaster muttered under his breach and turned towards

the Granite towers, his lips pressed into a chin grim line. 'Come

with me, Archer,' he hissed, his knuckles white wide anger

upon the hilt of his sword.

 

The doors of the armoury were slighdy ajar. Breakmaster put

his foot against them and roughly kicked them open. Evening

light flooded into the dark granite halls, reflecting back in a

thousand points of light from armoured bathe plates, chainmail

shirts and bathe helms. Whole forests of spears marched back

into the darkness besides rows of polished sword blades,

waiting for eager hands to snatch them up.

 

'Proudpurse!' Breakmaster shouted, striding forward,

scooping up the nearest sword in his free hand. 'Where are

you, rat shadow?'

 

'There is treachery afoot in this place,' muttered Grey Goose,

searching along a broad avenue of horse armour. As he strode

forward a figure broke away from the shadows directly in front

of him and raced towards the far end of the armoury.

 

'Stop! Stop!' Grey Goose cried, nocking an arrow on to tile

bow and loosing it after the fleeing body.

 

'Chancellor Proudpurse?' he shouted again, trying to cross

the armoury by forcing a passage through a tall stand of

 

 

spears, sending them crashing and spilling on to the broad

aisles. Grey Goose's arrow struck a steel breast-plate and,

glancing off, sent a shower of sparks into the darkness.

 

'There! By the far wall!' Grey Goose called, nocking another

arrow on to his bow.

 

'Where?' cried Breakmaster, fumbling in his pocket for a

spark. The spark hissed, spluttering into life, driving tile

shadows back between the rows of bathe armour. Both

warriors strode forward Through the armoury, eyes sharp for

Proudpurse and his son.

 

'They must be somewhere in here. Nobody, not even a

Chancellor, could- have slipped past us,' whispered Grey

Goose as they reached the far wall.

 

95

 

 

'Look!' he hissed, stretching out his hand to direct the

horseman's spark towards a well-hidden corner where a stand

of horse armour had b~en disturbed. Something glittered with

the colours of watered silk.

 

'Steelsilver!' Breakmaster cried, kneeling and touching the

ancient batde coat with his finger tips.

 

'No, beyond chat. Look, dlree steps lead down to a

heavily-studded door.'

 

Grey Goose moved past the kneeling horseman to the

stairhead and descended the three steps to the door. He

tested it, pressing with the palm of his bow hand. It creaked a

handspan ajar. Cold musty air flowed out touching his face

and far away he heard the echo of running footsteps.

 

'Chancellors!' he hissed, running back up the steps and

almost stumbling over Breaimaster's kneeling figure as he

made for the main door to the inner circle of the city.

 

'Find the King!' he shouted, 'and bring him to the

Armoury.'

 

'Steelsilver!' Breakmaster whispered to himself, putting his

spark back into his pocket and letting the fine battle coat slip

through his fingers. It sang as it moved, in whispering tones,

with the sound of horse bells in a gende breeze. 'Steelsilver,'

he sighed, "athering the coat to his chest, feeling its warmd

through his rough leacher jerkin and steel-ringed shirt.

Running footsteps made him start and quickly hide the

steelsilver coat, pushing it hastily beneath a pile of fallen

shields.

 

'My Lord,' he cried, rising to his feet and stepping forward

to meet the King. 'It smells of treachery, my Lord. A dark

hole beneath the city chat echoes to the sound of Chancellors'

feet.'

 

King Holbian put his hand on Grey Goose's arm, motioning

him into silence. He bent his head in drought and paced

up and down the long aisle. 'Light two candles!' he commanded,

turning at length to Breakmaster. 'And then tell me, who

was fleeing?' he asked, peering beyond the heavily-studded

 

96

 

door and looking down into the black winding passage.

 

'It is darker than the City of Night!' he whispered fearfully

before hastily moving back from the darkness.

 

'It is a black hole, without a glint of starlight to show the

way, my Lord,' replied Breakmaster, lighting his spark and

stepping bravely between the door and the King.

 

'Who has fled?' he asked again, looking away along the rows

of armour.

 

'I think Proudpurse and his son, my Lord,' answered

Breakmaster.

 

'Lord!' Grey Goose shouted, running back into the

armoury. 'The tallow house has been sacked. The grain stores

have been plundered. There are no more than ten candles in

the entire inner circle.'

 

'Chancellors!' shouted Breakmaster, flinging shut the studded

door. 'They have all fled and gone, no doubt, to sell us to

the Nightbeasts!'

 

'Everyone? Even Overlord?' asked the King, "athering his

courage to inspect the rough granite wall on either side of the

door.

 

'The city is without a Chancellor, and all the better for it. It

is without their treacherous ways at last,' replied Grey Goose,

standing at the King's elbow.

 

'Who would have known of this black hole?' asked the

King. 'Who would have told the Chancellors? They had no

dealings with weapons or cause to visit dlis armoury. It was

only after the siege lock was put on the city chat Proudpurse

came to me and asked for the key.'

 

 

Taking both Grey Goose and Breakmaster by the arm

Holbian led them out beyond the armoury doors. 'Find me

the Mastermason, he might know . . .'

 

Suddenly shouting broke out near the Candledoors.

 

'Lord,' called Adarius, the Archer, breaking away from the

frightened, milling crowd and sprinting towards the armoury.

'All the Marchers have gone, all the Gallopers and the

Archers; they have abandoned the top of the wall and

 

97

 

 

vanished. We are defenceless, without food or light.

 

'Steady, steady,' soothed the King, his forehead creasing

into a hundred folds of worry as he checked Adarius with a

strong hand. 'Now tell me slowly, who has gone?'

 

'Lord, we three are your army. We three are the only

defenders of Granite City!'

 

'The horses!' cried Breakmaster, 'have they taken the

horses?'

 

'Only Beacon Light and your pony, Mulberry, are still here,'

Adarius replied, turning anxious eyes on the advancing city

dwellers.

 

King Holbian turned to face the frightened city folk and

with one raised hand he brought them to a halt. 'Be easy, my

people,' he soothed, 'Chancellors are but chaff before the

rising wind, who scatter easily at the first sign of danger. Wait

with me a while and find and bring me the Loremaster of this

once great city, for he may be able to tell us much of the

treachery that shadows our last daylights.'

 

Grey Goose moved quickly through the crowd, ducking

into the shadows near the armoury doors. 'Here, Lord,' he

shouted, 'I have the Loremaster. I saw him creeping through

the shadows towards the armoury with a heavy bag over his

shoulder.'

 

Holbian gripped the Loremaster's arm and fiercely shook

him.

 

'Tell the people - tell them how you betrayed them and

sold your knowledge of the winding path that leads through

the darkness. Tell them!'

 

'Greatest Lord. Mightiest of Kings ...' Pinchface the

Loremaster pleaded, 'The Chancellors forced me to tell my

secrets.'

 

'And did they also force you to take what belonged to

others?' Grey Goose asked, tipping the contents of the

Loremaster's bag across the cobbles.

 

'Lord,' Pinchface wept as new tallow candles and satchels

of grain spilled out at his feet.

 

98

 

'You sold them your knowledge of the secret way and

bargained with it for a place with them in the escape to safety

far from this city.'

 

'Yes, Lord,' Pinchface whispered, hanging his head.

 

Holbian laughed grimly, pushing the Loremaster on to his

knees. 'You did not have the power to deal in treachery with

the treacherous, you simple-minded fool. The Chancellors

have long gone, they have no place for Loremasters. You have

served your purpose; they have abandoned you!'

 

'Lord, forgive me,' pleaded Pinchface, stretching his hands

towards the King's armoured boots.

 

'Bind him between the Candledoors as an offering to the

Nightbeasts. Perhaps they will take his treacherous tongue!'

shouted Breakmaster.

 

'No! I will leave nothing for those Nightbeasts, not even my

enemies. Bind him, we will sit in his judgement in better

times.'

 

'How did you guess that the Loremaster knew of the secret

way in the armoury, my Lord?' asked Grey Go,ose as he

 

bound Pinchface's wrists.

 

Holbian smiled. 'It was written clearly above the door in

King Mantern's own hand, "The wise shall know the way. They

shall have the knowledge to reveal the winding path through the

darkness. For it shall be written for all to share in the Books of

Lore".'

 

 

'Lord, the Nightbeasts are assaulting the walls. How shall

we defend the city?' shouted Breakmaster above their roaring

screams and the renewed thunder of their battering rams.

 

King Holbian looked into the darkening sky, 'Light every

candle and spark we have left. Take the people into the

armoury and as they pass through, arm them and lead them

down through the secret way. I will wait here until the last

person is beyond the door and then I will follow. Mastermason!

Where is Mastermason?'

 

'Lord, I am herel' cried Arachatt, brushing the stone dust

out of his eyes.

 

99

 

 

'Look at the secret path and find a way to seal it after we

have retreated. Breakmaster!' cried the King, turning quickly

to the horseman.

 

'Lord?' Breakmaster answered, leading Beacon Light and

Mulberry, ready-saddled, across the cobbles.

 

'You are a great Captain,' laughed the King, running his

hands through Beacon Light's silky coat, 'to know my

commands before I utter them!'

 

Breakmaster smiled, unelipping the siege hooks from both

saddles, 'Are we to ride once more to the top of the wall and

battle with the Nightbeasts beneath the shining stars?'

 

'No, my friend, we will marshal the people into the armoury

and follow them wherever the secret way leads.'

 

Long after darkness had descended across the empty

Candle Hall and swallowed all the shadows in the inner city

the King and Breakmaster waited, holding the horses, while

Arachatt sealed and bolted the great outer armoury doors.

Holbian shivered in the feeble sparks of light and looked

fearfully beyond the doorway that led down into the bowels of

the earth.

 

Hesitantly he Lied to follow the muffled noise of the

descending city folk as they trod the secret road but he could

not move, his iron-shod boots seemed frozen to the granite

floor. 'All I strove to overcome has shrivelled to nothing,' he

whispered, tears of helpless despair wetting his eyes.

 

'Once in all my power I chased the Master of Nightmares

to the very Gates of Night but I could not follow him into the

darkness and destroy him, and now a lifetime later that same

weakness leaves my people abandoned in their moment of

greatest need, for I cannot lead them through that same

darkness.'

 

Slowly the King turned away from the black entrance and

called Breakmaster to come forward. 'You have been a

strength at my right hand in these last grim daylights but I

would ask one more thing, perhaps the most difficult any man

could undertake.' King Holbian paused, looking for long

 

100

 

moments into the horseman's eyes before he slowly lifted his

hands towards the crown upon his head. 'I pledge you to take

this crown of Elundium and keep it safe until the new King is

found. There is none save you, dear friend, that I could trust

with such a task, for you are true-hearted beyond fault.'

 

'No, Lord!' cried Breakmaster, fearing that the King would

stay alone in the armoury to defend the entrance to the secret

road, buying them time to escape. 'Follow the city folk, my

Lord, and let me be the one to defend the door. Let my sword

arm grow weary that you might lead the people back into the

sunlight.'

 

King Holbian smiled and then fiercely gripped the horseman'

s arm. 'Your love for me blinds you, fool. I have no

choice. I, the last Granite King, cannot walk in the darkness

because, because, . . .' King Holbian looked away, blinking at

his tears, 'because I am afraid of the dark. Now you know my

weakness. Go and do my bidding and let me hide my shame

beneath a wall of Nightbeasts. Go, I command it.'

 

'Keep him warm,' whispered a voice in Breakmaster's

head. 'Cloak him with something you value above everything

else, something that will give him courage in the dark, for he

is old and brittle with age and afraid of the weakness that

other men will see.'

 

Breakmaster struck his fist against the wall, ashamed at

how close he had come to deceiving the King, seeing clearly

his own weakness, knowing that he would have kept the

steelsilver coat to himself. Nevian's words shouted at him as

he bent and searched amongst the fallen shields until his

hands closed on the silken warmth of the battle coat.

 

'lord,' he called, barely able to meet the King's eyes as he

held up the battle coat. 'This will give you courage to walk in

the dark, for it is steelsilver of the finest weave. Listen to the

 

 

soft sounds of morning as it moves, feel the touch of sunlight

it still holds. Come, my Lord, and let me wrap it around your

shoulders.'

 

'Steelsilver!' whispered the King. 'I thought Errant took the

 

101

 

 

last steelsilver battlecoat for Dawnrise to wear on their dash to

World's End!'

 

'This is the only one in the armoury, my Lord, perhaps the

only one in all Elundium, and of a much finer quality than the

one Errant took. It is . . .' Breakmaster fell silent as he draped

the coat around the King's shoulders, his hands trembling

with relief as he threaded the fine silver buckle at the King's

throat.

 

'Pure steelsilver,' whispered the King, running his brittle

fingers across the fine metal weave, reflecting the joy of a

summer's day in his eyes as he looked down into its soft

shimmering colours. Tilting his head he could, for a moment,

hear the whispers of a meadow lark and the first blackbird of

the morning. 'Breakmaster,' he smiled, taking the horseman's

hand, 'Breakmaster, I know the measure of this giving, I can

feel it through your fingertips and hear it in your silence. I

promise you, my dearest friend, when we reach the light this

coat will be yours, and I will find a Lord of Horses to wear it.

 

Breakmaster looked up into the King's eyes and saw how

the hairline fractures on his face had crazed in fine starshaped

patterns and he felt glad to have given away the beautiful coat.

'Lord, I shall follow the soft sound of bells, for the coat makes

a gentle music. It will guide me in the dark.'

 

Beyond the bolted doors the faint thunder of iron trees

battering against the inner walls shook the armoury floor. 'It is

time to abandon the city, Arachatt. Seal the secret way behind

us. The daylights of the Granite City are now at an end.'

 

King Holbian passed sadly through the doorway, with one

hand holding tightly to Beacon Light's bridle and Breakmaster

following with Mulberry. Arachatt waited until the King

was safe, then pulled the studded door shut, and with his iron

spike the steel hammer he quietly loosened the middle granite

blocks around the door until he could ease the spike into the

narrow crack.

 

'Now!' he whispered, swinging the hammer and jumping

quickly back. The heavy granite block fell. For a second

 

102

 

.11_

 

nothing happened, fine granite dust settled on the mason's

hands as he fled down the secret way, and then slowly the wall

began to bulge and sway. Then the sheer tower that rose

above the armoury began to subside. Roaring and rumbling it

collapsed, burying the armoury and the beginnings of the

secret road for ever.

 

'It is done, my Lord,' panted Arachatt, catching up with the

King.

 

'It is done!' whispered Holbian, blinking the tears from his

eyes as he moved forward.

 

 

aLures For

Thanehand

 

'Gildersleeves!' snarled Krulshards, uprooting tile neat, wellclipped

hedge figures of fencing men as he strode in black

hatred towards the swordsman's house.

 

'Gildersleeves!' he dribbled, reading the name caned above

the doorway and lifting hate-filled eyes towards die

strengthening sun chat had risen above the tree tops of the

black forest. Turning away, he buried his head in the malice and

gingerly touched the raw wound Archer had inflicted on him

with the last arrow strike. 'Foul tattoo chat burned white widl a

light that could enter the malice!' he muttered, searching the

early morning tree line for Kerzolde, his Captainbeast.

 

'We will rest here, Captain,' he shouted impatiently as

Kerzolde broke through the trees and staggered across the

dew-wet lawns.

 

'Master,' he gasped, crawling into the long shadows of a

flower-filled gallery, 'the Archer's arrow has weakened me. I

 

cannot keep to your pace.' ~

 

Krulshards snarled, snapping at his ( ;aptain, 'Keep pace, or we

lose the advantage. We must reach Woodsedge before the

Galloperspawn.'

 

'But the Nightbeasts chat ring the hut of dehorns will have

captured and killed him, Master!'

 

Krulshards curled his lips back across his teeth. 'He has a

rare gift for life, but he will die, when I have the Elionbel.'

 

Krulshards reached up and tore a handful of newly-opened

flowers from a hanging basket and squeezed them between

 

104

 

1

 

:

 

'

 

!

 

:,

 

it.

 

his fingers, drawing out all the sweet nectars. Laughing, he

dropped the flowers, now grey-pressed, dry crumbs, on to the

gallery floor.

 

'I owe this swordsman much for the skill of his arms before

my black gates. Repay him now by destroying His house of

Gildersleeves and leave it night-bl lick and burned before tile

sun sets.'

 

Kerzolde rose wearily to his feet and swung his broken claw

through the stem-woven chains of the flower baskets, tearing

them from Heir hooks and treading them into a black tangle

along the galleries and walkways. Krulshards laughed with

spite as he spread the malice through the lower chambers,

wilting tile hanging vines, burning and withering the living

garden chat Morolda had grown with care.

 

'Night treads in my footprints,' he whispered, "athering tile

malice into folds of contentment and waited with hooded eyes

for the sun to set.

 

'Master!' hissed Kerzolde, slipping through the doorway.

'Two young Marchers are at tile edge of the lawn.)

 

Krulshards moved noiselessly to tile nearest window and

watched the advancing warriors, closing his eyes to mere slits

against the noonday glare. 'Take them. Net them in darkness

as dley enter the doorway!' whispered the Master of Night,

taking a shadowy nightmesh from within the malice and

spreading it above the doorway.

 

'There is danger here,' whispered Rubel, pointing with his

 

 

sword at the uprooted hedges and blackened footprints that

crisscrossed the lawn.

 

'Nightbeasts have been here,' answered Arbel, boldly

stepping into the first gallery and stopping a pace from the

main doorway.

 

'Wait!' called Rubel, wrinkling his nose. 'Whatever has done

this damage is still here, I can smell it. Do not enter!'

 

Arbel froze.The acrid fumes were spilling through the open

doorway, making him choke with each breach. 'Rubel, help me!'

he cried, trying to turn and run.

 

105

 

 

Rubel leapt forward, gripped Arbel's hand in his and

pulled him backwards out of the gallery. Krulshards screamed

with rage and pushed Kerzolde through the doorway after

them.

 

'Kill them! Killl' he snarled, spinning the nightmesh above

his head and hurling it at Arbel, catching the young warrior's

feet in the slippery black threads and bringing him crashing to

the ground. Rubel slashed at the black threads, Arbel kicked

his legs, but the more he struggled the tighter the nightmesh

wound around his ankles.

 

'I cannot move!' he cried, swinging his sword with all his

strength at Kerzolde, splitting the Nightmare's spear shaft

just above the cruel barbed blade. Rubel sheathed his sword.

He bent low and lifted his brother over his shoulder and ran

as fast as he could for the safety of the tree line at the lawn's

edge. Kerzolde followed them, swinging a long-handled

scythe at Arbel's heels, trying to catch the hooked blade in the

flowing threads of the nightmesh, but the noon sunlight

blinded him and he cursed, stumbling over the uprooted box

hedges, and crashed to his knees.

 

'Marchers!' he cursed as the two warriors reached the

clearing's edge. Rubel had run himself to a standstill; he

could go no further with Arbel's weight on his shoulder so he

lowered his brother to the ground and hid behind a tree.

 

'Cut yourself free with your dagger,' he whispered, turning

back towards the lawns, 'I will keep watch for the Nightbeasts.'

 

 

Arbel sighed and closed his eyes against the darkness that

was sweeping over him. It was warm and crowded with visions

of the great Marcher he would one day be, clothed in black

armour, the most powerful warrior in . . .'

 

'Hurry, night will be with us soon!' hissed his brother,

shaking his arm.

 

Arbel jolted awake, shivering at what he had seen and hid

the black visions deep in his heart as he began cutting at the

nightmesh. 'I am going as fast as I can, only the cut threads

 

106

 

keep trying to catch hold of me again. It is as if it has a life of

its own, it is so horrible and clinging.'

 

Rubel watched the shadows lengthen across the lawn of

Gildersleeves. 'Hush!' he warned, putting his middle finger to

his lips. 'The Nightbeast has come with the most terrible

beast I have ever seen, they are leaving the house, I . . .' Rubel

sank to his knees, his mouth silently opening and closing, his

eyes wide with terror.

 

The Master of Nightbeasts stood in the centre of the lawn,

enfolded in his malice, and stared at the forest edge, searching

for the warriors' fear, sniffing the cool evening breeze

for the scent of his enemies. Slowly his raw, skinless head

turned towards Rubel, dead locks of lank hair falling across

the folds of his malice. Rubel shrank into a tight ball, his

knuckles white. Arbel felt the Nightmare stare and hacked

quickly through the last of the writhing threads. He wanted to

see more of the dark dreams and touch the Nightmare's

 

promises.

 

'Rubel,' he whispered, jumping free and turning to his

brother. 'Rubel . . .' he swallowed the word, falling on to his

knees beside his brother as he saw the face of Krulshards for

the first time through the leafy undergrowth. It was so

different to the dreams, more awesome and powerful, cruel

and without mercy. His tongue felt rough and swollen and all

he could do was press the palms of his hands over his eyes to

blot out the Nightmare's stare.

 

'Marchers!' Krulshards sneered, drawing a black blade

from the folds of his malice; he could see them at the forest

edge, covered by the undergrowth. Putting the blade to his

tongue he licked the cutting edge, leaving a thin line of

bubbling spittle on the bare metal.

 

A fast-moving shadow spread across the lawns, blocking

 

 

out the sunlight.

 

'Owls' breath!' hissed Krulshards, raising his arm to

protect his face as he fled from the owls, his blade upturned

towards the sky.

 

 

aArbel felt the Mghtmare's eyes turn away, releasing him. He

raised his head and stole a glance at the empty Own, knowing

that one daylight he would touch that power and take some of it

for his own. He shivered and pulled at Rubel's sleeve, urging

him to follow. 'Rubel, come on, run!'

 

Together they fled deep into the forest, following a littleused

path that led towards the flat grasslands and the Tower of

Stumble Hill. The stoop of Battle Owls flew low over the

swordsman's house, calling in shrill hoots at the Master of

Nightmares as he disappeared beneath the eaves of the forest,

running in the direction of Woodsedge.

 

'Krulshards, the Master of Darkness!' they hooted as the

Wayhouse of Woodsedge passed beneath their wingtips.

'Beware, the Nightmare is near!'

 

Martbel looked up into the evening sky at the darkening

stoop of owls, her forehead drawn in a frown. 'They have bad

omens in their call,' she said to Elionbel. 'Listen girl, bad

omens!'

 

'The boys are late,' Elionbel worried, looking up at the owls

and biting her lips before she turned her eyes back to the road

that led towards Gildersleeves.

 

'Bad omens from Underfall. Defeat at World's End. I'm sure

that was in their voices,' mused Martbel, shivering as she

thought of Tombel and drawing her shawl more tightly around

her shoulders.

 

'They were fools to go,' Elionbel muttered.

 

'The King ordered it. It was beyond their choice!' snapped

Martbel, her face blood red with anger.

 

'No, no! I mean the boys! Gildersleeves is empty. I am sure

Father said Duclos and Morolda would follow the Marchers

and the Gallopers to Underfall. There was no need for them to

check that the swordsman's house was safe.'

 

'They are Marchers, set to follow in their father's footprints.

It was hard enough keeping them here, away from the glories of

battle, to guard us. Be not over-hard on them,

 

108

 

Elion. If your father, Tombel, is dead they will take the

Keepership.'

 

Elionbel smiled, remembering how they had boldly driven the

Nightbeasts out of the Wayhouse. 'Brave warriors or not,

Mother, they are late, and I hope they will have the sense to

shelter the dark hours at Gildersleeves.'

 

'Come, daughter, worrying will not shorten their road. Come,

bolt the doors. There is something in the air that bodes great

evil, something on the Greenway. I can feel it gnawing and

nagging at me. Come, stoke up the stairhead fire and prepare

for the dark night ahead.'

 

Elionbel shivered, taking a last quick look towards

Gildersleeves and paused, frowning. For a moment she thought

she saw two figures in the half-light. 'Nightbeasts on the road,'

she cried, as the two figures came closer, emerging from

beneath the eaves of the forest. She could see them clearly

now, one a humped grotesque Nightbeast with a broken claw,

the other a taller, more hideous figure, wrapped in a dark cloak

that billowed out, spreading in ragged, tangled shadows about

his feet. Elionbel turned and fled into the Wayhouse, slamming

the door and shooting home the bolts as fast as she could.

Without pausing for breath she raced to the stairhead and

stoked the fire into a roaring blaze, thrusting as many fire-irons

into the fire as she could.

 

'Nightbeasts! Nightbeasts!' she shouted, stumbling over the

words. 'On the road from Gildersleeves!'

 

'Nightbeasts? Before the sun sets?' Martbel cried.

 

'Come up here, Mother, to the safety of the fire. They were

more terrible than anything I have ever seen before. Please

come!' Elionbel's voice faded away, she could hear their

footsteps on the gravel outside, and smelt an odour of death.

 

 

'Mother,' she wept, backing into a corner of the hearth and

sinking to her knees. The footsteps had stopped and in the

darkening silence that followed a faint whisper began.

 

'Elionbel. Elionbel,' it whispered as softly as a gentle breeze

in the treetops. Louder now it called her name, forcefully

 

109

 

 

laughing from the darkness, 'Elionbel. I have come to take

you!'

 

Elionbel shrank into a tight ball, the palms of her hands

trying to press the sound of the Nightbeast voice out of her

ears. Martbel took a defiant step towards the door, her sword

arm raised, but the voice turned to shrieking laughter that

froze her to the flagstones. The door frame shook, the door

bulged and rattled.

 

'Elionbel! I have come for you with a gift from Thanehand,

the Galloperspawn!' screamed the voice. 'Come, stand before

me, the Master of Darkness, and take the gift!'

 

The great door shook again, the wood tearing away from

the iron studding' splitting across the main beam brace.

Krulshards drew back his arm and punched at the door,

shattering the timbers apart. His bone black hand appeared

through the jagged hole, delicately holding the silver finger

bowl by its broken chain. The hand flexed and threw the

silver cup across the great hall, bouncing it on the flagstones.

 

'Thane!' Elionbel cried, watching the cup come to rest. For

a long moment she stared in silence at her love token, seeking

in it Thane's pale blue eyes and laughing lips. 'Thane,' she

whispered again as the picture faded and she shuddered to

think of his death at the Nightbeast's hand.

 

'I promised him that I would come for you!' sneered the

Nightmare voice of Krulshards. Elionbel looked up across the

hall at the skinless, beckoning hand that had blackened and

despoiled her love token, and felt anger swell up, pushing

back the despair, and giving her strength. For a moment she

had more strength than ten Granite Kings.- 'I love you,

Thane,' she whispered, pulling a white hot fire-iron out of the

flames, 'and I will avenge your death!'

 

Springing forwards, both hands holding the hot iron in

front of her, she rushed headlong down the stairway, glittering

tears of rage and hate streaming down her face. She

charged blindly across the hall, plunging the fire-iron deep

into the centre of the Nightmare hand. Black, acrid smoke

 

110

 

billowed up from the rotten flesh as the fire-white metal

seared through to the bone. Krulshards screamed with pain,

shutting his fingers on the dull red-hot iron shaft, cooling it in

his grasp before snatching it back through the hole in the

door.

 

'Elionbel!' he thundered, swelling the malice with rage and

throwing it against the entrance to the Wayhouse. With one

devastating blow it destroyed the door and wall in a shower of

crumbling masonry. 'Elionbel!' he hissed, dribbling her name

across the flagstones as he entered, 'You shall pay dearly for

this, just as Thanehand paid for daring to enter the City of

Night.'

 

'You can take nothing more than my life!' answered

Elionbel coldly, the strength fading as she retreated to the

foot of the stairs and took a Marcher long spear from the

server who was crouched, defending the first stair-riser.

 

'Living death in the darkness. Life without light,' laughed

Krulshards, advancing towards her. 'I bring darkness to all

Elundium, but to you, Elionbel, I bring the key to the City of

Night.'

 

Elionbel tightened her grip on the smooth polished spear

shaft and hurled it at the centre of the Nightmare, shouting as

it left her hand, 'Die, foul Nightdemon. Die!' but Krulshards

laughed, stretched out his smouldering hand and caught the

spear long before it reached the malice. He turned the blade

and drove it through the first server kneeling beside Elionbel.

 

Elionbel stared, open-mouthed, at the quivering spear shaft

and retreated as Krulshards stepped forward, his shadowy

foot on the first step. 'I want you, Elionbel, it is payment for

the love token I took from Thanehand. You have hurt me with

a power that I do not understand, but only a king can kill me

and he is far away in Granite City. Come to me!'

 

'No!' Elionbel hissed, proudly lifting her head, 'My power

 

 

comes through love, and with that love I shall defend this

house against you.' Bending, she took the second server's

spear and turned it towards Krulshards.

 

111

 

 

'You are as weak as Thanehand,' cackled Kerzolde, creeping

forward in the shadow of the malice. Elionbel spun round

angrily and flung the spear at Kerzolde, catching him a

glancing blow on the shoulder. He snarled and leapt at the

stairway, hooking his broken claw in the second server's cloak

and pulling her through the splintered bannisters. One sweeping

stroke from his cruel curved scythe cut short her screams.

Elionbel hesitated, poised to take a spear from the third

server. Krulshards now had his foot upon the second step.

 

'Thane is dead, Elionbel,' whispered the Nightmare, casting

back the malice, 'and to prove it I have a second gift for

you. Here, hold his hand once more.'

 

Laughing, Krulshards unhooked from his belt one of the

Archer's hands, severed in the Tower at Stumble Hill and

threw it at Elionbel. She screamed, stumbling backwards, as

the hand fell on to the flagstones below, rolled once and

touched the hem of Martbel's skirt. Martbel spun round, the

spell from Krulshards' shout broken, and looked carefully at

the severed hand.

 

'Mghtmare!' she cried, sweeping her sword at the bulk of

the malice. Krulshards snarled, snatched Sethot from beside

Elionbel, turned and used her as a shield against the sword

stroke. Elionbel cried out as Martbel's thrust cut into the

server.

 

'Enough!' she shouted. 'What do you want of me if not my

death?'

 

Krulshards grinned, a trickle of saliva wetting his chin and

let Sethot's lifeless body fall and tumble its way down to the

great hall. 'You!' he hissed, reaching out, 'I want your life in

payment. Your death would be nothing but a moment's

pleasure!'

 

'You choose wrongly!' cried out Martbel, slipping between

them. 'I am Elionbel. It was my love token you brought here!'

 

Krulshards looked from mother to daughter; the grey strips

of flesh bound across his forehead drew into a frown.

'Elionbel?'he whispered, holding them both at arm's length in

 

112

 

l a vice-like grip. Undecided, he turned to Kerzolde.

 

'Which one is Elionbel?'

 

'Master, Master!' Kerzolde cried, cleaning the Server's

blood from his chin. 'The younger one is the one we took

from this Wayhouse, but we did not ask her name.'

 

'I am Elionbel!' Martbel shouted, struggling to bite Krulshards'

hand. Elionbel slipped her hand inside her cloak and

unsheathed a small narrow-bladed dagger. 'Nightmare!' she

hissed as she thrust the blade upwards into the folds of the

malice.

 

Krulshards felt the point of the blade tear through the

malice and shrunk away from it. Lifting his foot he kicked

Elionbel's wrist, numbing her hand into dropping the knife.

Frowning he pushed both women towards Kerzolde. There

was a strange power in the Wayhouse, clearly these women

were not kings and yet twice they had hurt him. 'I have two

queen-like creatures who have dared to hurt me, the Master

of Darkness. I shall take you both!' he hissed. 'Both of you

shall come into the darkness of the City of Night.'

 

Kerzolde snarled and held them tightly, pinching the skin

of their arms in his one good claw. Krulshards reached into

the malice, digging with his long sharp fingernails into the

layers of rotten flesh that covered his black heart, and

carefully pulled out his life thread. Thin and spider-fine, it

glistened in his hands. Carefully he looped it around both

Elionbel and Martbel's necks and tied the end in a bloody

knot. Stepping back he laughed and turned his head towards

the remaining servers crouching in the stairhead hearth.

 

'Darkness is spreading across all Elundium,' he sneered.

Elionbel bent, scooped up the dagger and made to plunge it

into Krulshards' back, but as the blade touched the malice the

life thread looped around her neck began to tighten, choking

 

 

her to her knees. Krulshards turned his head back towards

her, a sneer of delight wetting his lips.

 

'You are mine now, you are a part of me, joined by my life

thread. If danger threatens me the thread will shrink. Sleep

 

113

 

 

ing or waking you are bound to me!' Gripping Elionbel by the

folds of her cloak he pulled her close, lifting her off the

ground, and spat the words into her face. 'If the foul

Marchers or Gallopers attack me it will be you that suffers my

pain. If an Archer's strike of arrows breaks through this

malice, it will be your lives they threaten. You are nothing

now, nothing!'

 

Krulshards dropped Elionbel on to the hard stone floor and

turned away. The thread slackened around her neck but she

could feel it pulsating with every beat of the Nightbeast's

heart.

 

'You have us in your power. Please let the servers go,'

pleaded Martbel.

 

'My Captain is hungry, he needs food for the long road

ahead of us,' mocked Krulshards, letting Kerzolde climb on

to the first step.

 

'Please,' begged Elionbel.

 

'Wait!' ordered the Master of Nightbeasts, halting his

Captain on the second stair. 'We must leave our mark in this

Wayhouse for all Nightbeasts to see.'

 

Picking up the finger bowl he placed it at the centre of the

hall, and in a pattern around it he stamped his name into the

flagstones, shattering them with large black letters, 'KRULSHARDS

THE MASTER OF NIGHT'

 

'Meet me beneath the walls of Granite City,' he shouted to

Kerzolde. 'I shall be with your brother Kerhunge who is

leading my Nightbeast army. Together we will finish the siege

and destroy the last Granite King!'

 

Krulshards turned away from the stairway and strode out

on to the dark Greenway, dragging Elionbel and Martbel

behind him.

 

'The servers, please, spare them,' Martbel cried. Krulshards

only laughed and quickened his pace.

 

'My Captain is hungry, but he is kind, he will save some for

you!'

 

'We are better off dead!' gasped Elionbel as she tried to

 

114

 

D

S

e

 

t

1

 

 

. .

 

 

keep pace with the Nightmare. 'Father is dead! Thane is

dead!'

 

'No!' whispered Martbel. 'That hand he threw at you. It

was not Thane's!'

 

Dawn streaked the sky and the Nightbeast had slowed

down. Elionbel and Martbel moved closer. 'Whom did it

belong to? Do you know?'

 

'Do not ask, child. Names are dangerous things to utter

when Nightbeasts are near.'

 

115

 

 

Nerds of Kr7vlshards

 

Dawnlight had spread the jewels of morning all along the

Greenway's edge. Skylarks climbed into the early sky and

sang of the new daylight. Thane slid quietly to the ground,

easing his weight out of Stumble's saddle and thanked him for

a great run against the darkness.

 

'You are as bold as a Warhorse, and as tireless as a

greyhound,' he laughed, running his hand down the horse's

sweat-soaked shoulder and he fell silent for a moment,

remembering that the little relay horse had none of Esteron's

fine breeding. 'Forgive me, I have ridden you too hard in my

haste to reach Woodsedge before the Nightmare, Krulshards.'

 

 

Stumble snorted, his eyes full of fire, and arching his

aching neck he lengthened his stride to keep pace with

Thane.

 

'You have a great heart,' he laughed, 'just like your brother,

Sprint. He knew nothing of defeat and ran tirelessly for Kyot.'

 

Thane was quiet again, hoping against hope that Kyot

would find and understand the message he had left at

Stumble Hill. He sighed gently, pulling at Stumble's ears as

he took the reins over his head and led him forward through

the grasslands. Stumble's coarse coat dried quickly in the

fresh morning breeze and shimmered, reflecting the sun from

the fine layer of salt he had sweated on their night gallop. The

quiver of steel-tipped arrows, clipped on to the pommel of the

saddle, rattled with each measured stride he took and the

 

116

 

oiled wooden bow hanging next to it sang out a haunting

music as the wind tugged at the fibres of the bowstring.

Thane listened to the bow.

 

'Follow me, Kyot, with new forged arrow-heads from

Clatterford,' he whispered, wondering what and where was

Clatterford; he certainly had not passed it on his way to

Underfall.

 

Looking ahead he could see a faint smudge on the

horizon's edge; a dark line that marked the eaves of the black

forest. 'Elundium is a limitless place,' he muttered between

panting breaths as the sun climbed across the sky, shrinking

his hurrying shadow. Thane slowed to a walk and chose a

solitary clump of trees for a short noonday rest. The Nightbeasts'

tracks would still be there to follow, blackened

footprints burned into the Greenway, no matter how long he

rested. Even the heat of the sun had not dispelled the foul

odour of death that Krulshards had spilled on to the grass as

he passed through Elundium. And Tombel had been right in

his counsel; he could not match the Nightbeast's pace no

matter how hard he tried.

 

But Thane could not rest while Elionbel's life was at risk

and he fidgeted in the shade of the trees, waiting while

Stumble took a long drink from a shallow pool. 'I will run

until the sun sets,' he said, brushing the salt out of Stumble's

coat with the flat of his hand, 'and I shall only mount you for

our ride through the night. Come, we must take the road

again, or arrive late.'

 

Evening time had drawn Thane's shadow out far behind

him before they reached the eaves of the black forest and

passed beneath the trees. Thane climbed wearily up into the

saddle and Stumble forged bravely ahead, cantering hard over

a muffling carpet of leaf mould. Twilight had darkened the

forest floor and Thane slumped forward in the saddle, his

head nodding in half sleep to the rhythm of the horse's stride.

Suddenly Stumble halted, whinnying fiercely, jolting Thane

awake. He reached for the dagger and searched the

 

117

 

 

shadows. Two figures crouched at the edge of the Greenway.

Clearly he could see their Marching swords glittering in the

darkness.

 

'Who, in all Elundium, hides in the darkness?' he challenged,

squeezing Stumble forwards.

 

'Thane?' a voice called as the figures rose.

 

'Arbel! Rubel!' Thane cried, recognising Tombel's sons.

He jumped quickly to the ground. 'What brings you this far

from Woodsedge? Is the Wayhouse safe?'

 

'The Nightmare! The most fearsome, terrible ...' Arbel

began.

 

'Woodsedge! Has he overrun the Wayhouse? Is Elionbel

safe?' Thane interrupted, but he could not finish, his voice

shook with fear and he gripped Rubel's arm painfully.

 

'No! We saw it at Gildersleeves. It has destroyed the

gardens and the baskets. Only the stoop of owls that flew

overhead saved us.'

 

'Where did the Nightmare go?' Thane asked, remounting

Stumble.

 

'It was on the lawns when we fled, less than two hours ago.'

 

'Run! Gallop as fast as you can. Krulshards, the Master of

all Nightbeasts, is on his way to destroy Woodsedge. Run!'

 

Thanc spun Stumble back on to the crown of the road and

urged him forward. Arbel and Rubel followed, running as if

all the Nightbeasts ever dreamed of were at their heels.

Thane hardly drew rein as they entered the lawns of Gildersleeves,

and even in the night darkness before the moon rose

above the trees he could see the destruction in the gardens

and the galleries. The suck of the fencing master's home

seemed complete. He looked in anger at the empty windows,

circled the house once before returning to the Greenway.

Bending low in the saddle he searched the road, sniffing

at the night air. Behind him Tombel's sons entered

the lawns.

 

'They are before us on the road!' Thane shouted, pointing

to the burnt footprints and asking Stumble to gallop as he had

 

118

 

. ~

_

 

. l

 

.

 

1 ,'

.:

l

 

. ~

.

.

 

I'

::

 

,

 

. .

 

3 L

 

never done before. 'Do not draw breath until you reach the

Wayhouse!' he shouted to Arbel and Rubel as Stumble

carried him forwards under the eaves of the black forest.

 

119

 

 

A Nero Keeper at Stumble Hill

 

Kyot reined Sprjnt to a halt before the ruined hut of thorns ;:

and dismounted, covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve,

and picked a way through the carcasses of the slaughtered

N'ghtbe8StS ~ quick glance showed him Esteron's saddle and

bridle with the broken spear shaft lying beside them. 'Thane

must be on the road through Notley Marsh,' Kyot muttered,

stroking Rockspray~s chest feathers as he left the hut and

remounted Sptint For a moment he sat, undecided. He knew

the quicker, straighter road through Mantern's and Meremire

Forest but if he rode that way he would miss Thane who

could be lying wounded, less than half a league into the

marsh He shivered, nocked an arrow on to his bow and

spurred Sprint on to the ancient road that led through the

marshes.

 

F,ather would counsel against this road, but need pushes us

to It, he thought as they descended, leaving behind the clean

afternoon air and the bright sunlight on the valley top. Lifting

his arm he sent Rockspray up into the sky, bidding him to

search flee road ahead

 

'Run, Sprint, run! And keep us to the centre of the road

through this foul place,' he shouted as the little horse

lengthened his stride.

 

By late afternoon they had passed the bubbling pools and

ascended the steep slope on the far side of the marshes.

Reaching the great divide Kyot pulled Sprint to a halt and

dismounted.

 

120

 

i.

 

.~

 

,]~:

 

'Thane can run as fast as I can ride,' he exclaimed,

examining the footprints that led towards Stumble Hill. Kyot

pointed with an arrow at the Nightbeasts' prints that spread

across the road. Moving on with care and with a sharp eye on

the lengthening shadows Kyot covered the last league to the

Tower and stood before the ruined doors.

 

'Nigh/beasts!' he hissed, tying Sprint's reins in a knot on

the saddle, leaving him free to fight in true Warhorse fashion.

Crouching, he drew the bowstring and, with his careful

Archer's eyes, he searched every shadow, tree and stone

before he darted forwards into the darkened courtyard. A

blinding white light stopped and dazed him, making him loose

the arrow, sending it shrieking across the courtyard to strike

sparks off the tower wall.

 

'Father!' he cried, seeing Archer in the centre of the white

light that glittered beneath the horse's battle coat. 'Father,' he

whispered, running forwards and falling on to his knees at his

side. Gently he touched the cold mutilated arms, pressing his

fingers into the tattoo mark that burned with white fire.

 

'Who has done this?' he wept, looking up at the towering

crescent of dead Nightbeasts a dagger's length away. 'Who

has done His cling?' he shouted in rage, leaping to his feet,

necking every arrow in the quiver on to his bow and loosing

them into the pile of Nightbeast dead until he fell back in

despair on to his knees whispering over and over, 'I love you. I

love you'. Bending down he "athered his father up into his

arms and rocked him, crying out against the night for revenge.

 

Gradually his weeping stopped and he laid his father gendy

back on to the cobbles, drawing the coarse steel-ringed bathe

coat up over his head. Sitting quietly the emptiness of the

moment overtook him.

 

'Who did dais?' he questioned, looking at the wall of the

Nightbeast dead. 'You could not have taken his hands. None

of you trod close enough to do chat. But who stood here with

you, Father?' Kyot frowned, looking around the courtyard,

and his eyes rested on the barbed spear blade lying beside the

 

121

 

 

aoaken shooting butt with theneady-cut bowstring. 'Thane! He

must have brought the Nightbeasts close on his heels through

Nodey Marsh and found Fadler tied to the shooting butt.'

 

Kyot examined the lifeless Nightbeasts and nodded to

himself. The only arrows used against them were his own,

loosed in anger, long after they were dead. Each one had a

dagger wound. Thane had obviously fought them alone.

 

'I will avenge your death, Father!' he cried, kneeling and

gripping the hem of the bathe coat so hard chat the steel rings

bit into the palms of his hands.

 

'Only one foul Nightmare could have done dlis . . .' Kyot

shook with a new rage and rose to his feet. 'Sprint!' he called,

summoning the relay horse to his side. 'Krulshards, the Master

of Nightmares, has destroyed my father. I shall hunt him

Throughout Elundium, no matter where he hides. Will you take

me and carry me into such danger?'

 

Sprint arched his neck and sniffed the bathe coat, his eyes

glittering with anger. Lifting his head he neighed at the

darkness and struck sparks from the cobbles as he pawed tile

ground. Kyot leapt into the saddle and turned Sprint swiftly

towards the broken doors and cantered him hard out into tile

dark night.

 

'Which way?' he cried, pulling Sprint to a halt ten paces

beyond the doors and reaching into tile quiver for an arrow.

'Fool!' he muttered to himself, his hand closing on emptiness,

remembering chat every spine had been loosed into die

Nightbeast dead. Turning, he rode back into the courtyard,

shielding his eyes against the tattoo's blinding light chat shone

even through the steel rings of the bathe coat.

 

'Father, you still guard tills place, but I will ring your body

with new-forged arrows. They will protect you until the

Archer strikes return.'

 

Dismounting, Kyot entered the armoury and lit his spark. 'By

Nevian!' he hissed, dropping the Bow of Orm and jumping

backwards. The spark fizzled and died in his hand.

 

122

 

1

1

 

L

 

Quickly he took a tar-dipped torch from the wall beside the

door, lit it and held it aloft to face the far wall.

 

'KRULSHARDS!' He read in large-scrawled, bloody letters

painted across the wall. 'Go to Clatterford, seek out Fairday,

he knows the measure of your revenge. He will arm you

against the Nightmare.'

 

Kyot ran to the armoury wall and touched the blood-sticky

letters.

 

'Thane wrote His,' he cried, 'but where is Clatterford? And

how will I be armed, why must I go Here? Surely I should hunt

down the Master of Nightmares; he cannot be more Han one

daylight ahead.'

 

Kyot sank down, his back resting against the wall, and

absentmindedly kicked over the armourer's iron pot chat Thane

had filled with Nightbeast blood to paint the letters. He sat

and thought hard as the night hours passed away, trying to

riddle out She meaning of the words. 'Clatterford! Clatterford!

What or where can it be?' he sighed, twisting his head and

looking up at the other name written on the wall. Rockspray

flew into the armoury and stooped back to his shoulder,

hooted and spread his wings before lifting from his shoulder

and hovering by each blood-painted word. Stooping to the

arrow stands he hooked an empty quiver up in his talons and

brought it to Kyot, dropping it at his feet.

 

'Yes we will take new arrows with us. If only I could know

who Fairday is or where Clatterford lies,' sighed Kyot again.

Pushing aside the quiver he began to rise. The tar-dipped torch

spluttered, "uttering on its wick, and went out, plunging the

armoury back into darkness. Kyot searched in his pocket for

 

 

another spark, muttering to himself. 'The grey hours are upon

us and I am still none the wiser which path to take. The

Nightbeast tracks will be cold and more difficult to follow if I

hesitate here any longer.'

 

'Keeper of the Tower,' whispered a voice in the darkness.

Archer's tattoo blazed for a moment in the courtyard, casting

long shadows in the armoury. Kyot drew his knife and

 

123

 

 

crouched, his eyes wide and steady, watching the doorway.

'Keeper of the Wayhouse on Stumble Hill - come forwards

and be named!'

 

The hair on the back of Kyot's neck prickled and he

shivered. A single tiny point of light had begun to glow in the

doorway. Now it was moving, growing stronger as it travelled

between the rows of hanging, oiled wooden bows. Past the

arrow stands it came, filling the armoury with a beautiful soft

light. 'Come forward, Keeper, be not afraid,' soothed an

ancient voice. The light had changed and taken the shape of a

rainbow cloak.

 

'Nevian!' Kyot cried, dropping the knife and falling on to

his knees. 'Father has been mutilated by the Nightmare,

Krulshards, and tied on to the shooting butt. Thane has been

here, I think he defended Father, look, he has left me a

message I cannot understand.'

 

'Peace,' whispered the Master of Magic, stepping forwards

and spreading the rainbow cloak over Kyot's shoulders.

'Know the measure of your father's battle with the Master of

Darkness and understand the words that Thane wrote upon

the wall, for I have come to give you the Keepership of this

Wayhouse and release your father from the pledges.'

 

Kyot looked up into Nevian's caring face and asked,

'Hasn't death given him rest?'

 

Nevian smiled and covered Kyot's head with the cloak,

taking him back in time to the dark empty tower before the

Nightmare arrived. 'Father,' he whispered, tears in his eyes as

the battle unfolded before him and he watched the courage in

his father's death. 'Fairday of Clatterford - the Crystal

Maker!' he cried, listening to his father's faltering words as

Thane held him in his arms. Now he understood the power of

the glass arrow-heads and where they had come from. The

rainbow cloak had dimmed, the armoury was full of grey dawn

light.

 

'You, Kyotorm, are the Keeper now, and I bind you by

words alone to guard this place and keep it safe against the

 

124

 

powers of the night, for you are a part of the new Elundium

that has a strength that stretched far beyond a binding mark

upon your arm.'

'But how can I seek out Clatterford if I must guard the

Tower?' Kyot cried.

Nevian smiled and handed Kyot the great Bow of Orm.

'Revenge will dim the power of this bow and it will blur your

vision and blunt the arrow's edge. Seek more than revenge

and when Elundium is safe once more from the Nightmare,

Krulshards, then you will keep this Wayhouse. It is as much a

gift as a duty. Follow the sun to Clatterford and be at Thane's

right hand in the darkness, for he will have great need of your

skill with this bow. Hurry, lest the sun sets before you have

4 reached the Crystal Maker's house.'

'Nevian!' Kyot cried as the rainbow cloak melted. 'Thunderstone

said that Thane brought old legends to life, that he

might one day be King, or carry a King's standard - is this

true?'

Nevian laughed and melted into the first ray of sunlight that

entered the armoury, leaving Kyot alone with the great Bow of

Orm in his hand, and Rockspray battle-perched on his

shoulder. Beyond the tower Kyot could hear the swift running

feet of his Archer strikes and hurried out to meet them.

 

125

 

 

aDespair at

Woodsedge

 

Woodsedge loomed up, a black shape on the Greenway's edge.

'Elionbel,' Thane called out quietly, slipping to the ground,

dagger drawn. He moved forward cautiously, watching the

spiral of smoke that rose from the main chimney stack. Nothing

else moved in the darkened Wayhouse. Arbel and Rubel ran

silently to his side and together they entered the great hall,

picking their way between the broken blocks of masonry and

shattered beams.

 

'Curse this darkness!' Rubel whispered, tripping over

something soft on the stone floor. Thane lit his spark and

gasped with horror. Before him, his face gorged with bloody

crouched Kerzolde, the torn remains of a server held in his

 

one good claw.

 

'Galloperspawn!' the Nightbeast screamed, hurling the halfeaten

girl at Thane's face, knocking him over backwards and

making him drop the spark.

 

'Kerzolde!' Thane shouted, stabbing at the fleeing shape as it

escaped into the night. Rubel turned and chased it to the

Greenway's edge, but he was near to nightblind and soon lost

trace of the fading footsteps.

 

'Elionbel!' Thane called, lighting every candle he could find

in the hall.

 

'Motherl'Arbel cried, searching among the fallen servers.

 

Thane suddenly stopped in the centre of the hall and fell to

his knees. 'Elionbel!' he cried, closing his fingers on the silver

finger bowl and lifting it up. 'Oh, Elionbel!'

 

126

 

1 1

. it.

. ~

 

l

:

 

l

 

'What is it?' Arbel asked, looking at Thane's clenched fist. 'The

Nightmare has her. Look!' Arbel followed Thane's shaking

finger to the cruel name shattered into the flagstone floor and

gasped, catching his breath. 'Krulshards, the Master of

Nightbeasts, he has her. He has taken her in revenge,' cried

Thane, pressing the silver cup to his forehead.

 

'Revenge? Why revenge, how did he know my sister?' asked

Rubel, standing before Thane.

 

'That evil beast we found here stole Elionbel's love token

from my belt as we fought between the Gates of Night.'

 

'You took her token into battle!' screamed Rubel, 'You you

stupid fool! I will kill you for that!' Arbel moved quickly, he

could smell the Nightmare's darkness and the taste of it made

him dizzy with desire. Shaking his head he turned his brother's

sword stroke wide, sending a shower of sparks up into the air

as both Marching swords clashed.

 

'Enough of this madness. To lose Elionbel and our mother is

enough to break my heart, but to kill Thane would only add to

the Nightbeast's deed. We must follow him and rescue them,

quickly, without delay!'

 

Rubel turned away, hurling his blade across the great hall

and stood shaking with rage. Turning back to Thane he

gripped him by the cloak clasp. 'Find her, Candleman, and

return her safe home, or I will take your life in payment.'

 

'No!' cried Arbel, prising his brother's fingers from Thane's

throat. 'I am the eldest and I say there will be no bad blood

between us.'

 

'Father called him a base Candleman; he was against him

ever looking at our sister. I heard him tell her that Thane was

 

 

not bloodworthy of this house.'

 

Arbel turned savagely on his brother, 'Bloodworthy or not,

Elionbel loved him and gave the token of her own free will.'

Lowering his voice he turned to Thane. 'She loved you, Thane,

and whispered your name each evening time. Will you come

with me on the Nightmare's heels and try to bring her back?'

 

127

 

 

- Thane took Arbel's hand and gripped it firmly. 'I have run

and ridden on the heels of this Nightmare across Elundium

only to arrive too late. But we will follow Krulshards together,

no matter how bleak the path, for I love your sister more than

life itself and to be without her would be to live in the

shadows.'

 

Arbel looked past Thane into the darkness beyond the door

and heard a black voice in his head, 'Hurry, Marcher, on your

dark and dangerous road for one day we will be brothers,

brothers in the darkness, I know it!' Arbel shivered at

Krulshards' whispers and tried to shut them out. 'We must

hurry,' he said, 'or the trail will grow cold.'

 

'Go quickly then,' Rubel shouted, angry at seeing Arbel

standing so closely with Thane, 'and do not cross the

threshold of this Wayhouse again if Elionbel is not by your side.

For if you do I will kill you!'

 

Thane turned and gripped Arbel's hand. 'I will gallop

ahead; follow as quickly as you can.' Without another word he

left the Wayhouse, running the short distance to where

Stumble waited. 'The Nightmare has taken Elionbel,' he

whispered, quickly mounting the horse and searching for the

black footprints. 'He has taken her to the Granite City!'

 

'Wait!' shouted Arbel, running out on to the Greenway.'I

think the Nightmare took our mother as well. She is nowhere

 

to be found!'

 

'We will find them both,' Thane shouted, holding Stumble

by the bridle. Turning in the saddle he called out as the horse

surged forwards, 'We will not rest until they are safe and the

Nightmare is dead. You have my word on it!'

 

Arbei turned back into the Wayhouse and for a moment

watched his brother searching amongst the dead servers. A

darkness was filling his body, spreading upwards in itching

lines from where the Nightmesh had entangled his legs, it was

making him move forwards across the Wayhouse floor,

forcing him to loose the dagger at his belt.

 

'Rubel,' he whispered, drawing the blade, 'you must not

 

128

 

follow the Master of Darkness. You must stay here.'

 

Rubel spun round and cried out as the dagger cut into his

outflung arm, sending him crashing heavily against the first

stair-riser, knocking him unconscious. 'No! No!' Arbel

cried, as the darkness dissolved and he saw what he had done.

Bending, he gathered up his brother's body and laid him

carefully across a broken chair. 'I could not help it!' he cried.

'That foul mesh that entangled me at Gildersleeves, sometimes

it seems that it is still there, filling me with darkness,

making me do things.'

 

Mumbling and crying Arbel bound his brother's wound

and then ran to the doorway and looked out at the lightening

sky. 'The darkness draws me, beckons me to follow, but

somehow I must overcome it and rescue Elionbel and

Mother.'

 

129

 

 

In the Ruins of the Granite City

 

Elionbel ran wearily at Krulshards' heels, pulled along by the

life thread looped around her throat. Behind her Martbel

stumbled to keep the Nightmare's hurrying pace. Dawn

brought little but chill winds to comfort them as the early light

changed from dismal grey to soft green as the sun climbed

above World's Edge. Before them on the rising ground black

shadows surrounded a huge mound of granite grey blocks,

piled, it seemed, in tumbling disorder. Each slab was thrown

upon the other as if the bones of Elundium had erupted from

the ground; only on the summit of the mound above the edges

of the shadows did the chaos end in a smooth wall that rose

sheer against the morning light. Just above the ruin of the wall

Elionbel could see the steep gables of weathered slate that

covered an ancient hall.

 

'Mother,' she whispered between running steps, 'what

place is this?'

 

Martbel peered around the billowing folds of the malice

that Krulshards had spread across his eyes against the light

and her face drained of colour. 'It was once the Granite City,'

she replied, falling back behind Elionbel.

 

Krulshards turned his hideous head, dead locks of tangled

hair streamed in the wind, and he laughed, cruelly and

without pity. Spreading his arms he shouted, 'Behold the last

of the Granite Kings. You see the beginning of a long night of

darkness where only I, Krulshards, the Master of Darkness,

rule! Nightbeasts - your Master!'

 

130

 

:

 

i

 

:

 

1

1

. l

 

_

 

The dense black shadows began to sway and in answer to

the Nightmare's cry they chanted, heralding his victory,

'Krulshards, Master of Darkness. Krulshards, the King of all

Elundium!'

Elionbel shrank in horror and hung back against the pull of

rthe life thread. 'The shadows are Nightbeasts! The city is

surrounded by the Nightmare's army!'

tKrulshards laughed and tugged both women along on their

knees through the ranks of his beasts. Cruel claws pinched

and slapped their arms and legs. Nightbeast faces leered and

laughed at them and everywhere hung the stench of rotting

flesh and the dry rattle of Nightbeast armour. Only when they

stood in the shadows of the highest innermost wall did

Krulshards halt. Reaching out he pressed his bone black

fingers against the smooth granite, scratching his sharp nails

across the fine grooves left by the masons.

'Kerhunge!' he boomed, 'Come to your master!'

Kerhunge, Kerzolde's brother, heard the summons,

quickly clambered out of a dark hole between the granite

blocks and hurried forward to kneel at Krulshards' feet,

offering up the handle of his twelve-tailed whip. 'Master, the

Granite City is yours!'

'You lie! This city will not be mine while the Granite King

lives,' Krulshards shouted, hooking his fingers into

Kerhunge's iron collar and pulling him to his feet. 'Where is

the Granite King's head. Bring it to me now!'

Elionbel listened in horror as Kerhunge stammered out the

last moments of the Granite King, pointing to the top of the

wall, and telling the Master of Night how King Holbian had

retreated into one of the Granite Towers seconds before it

collapsed, burying him for ever beneath a thousand granite

blocks. 'The inner circle of the city is empty, Master. There is

only the strange light in the Candlehall and a stoop of owls

guarding the ancient roof. Nothing more.'

Krulshards seethed with new anger. Picking Kerhunge up

by his collar he tossed him down towards the lower ruins of

 

131

 

 

the city. 'I want the King's head!' he roared. 'Destroy the

inner circle and find me the King. Tear out every brick and

stone, dig down into the bones of Elundium and find the

King. Elundium cannot be mine until I have his head!'

 

'Master, it will be done!' cried Kerhunge, crawling back to

lie at the Nightbeast's feet.

 

'Now!' screamed Krulshards, cracking the twelve-tailed

whip in Kerhunge's face. Kerhunge fled towards the siege

ladders that lay propped against the inner wall ready for the

final assault. Shouting and screaming he drove the waiting

Nightbeasts forward in a black mass and they scaled the

ladders and breasted the top of the wall, spears and scythes

casting a forest of shadows across the empty cobbles below.

 

Krulshards stretched out a long impatient hand, caught

Kerhunge by the collar and pulled him close. 'Why do you

hesitate?' he hissed, watching the Nightbeasts pause on the

top of the wall.

 

'Master it is the light!'

 

'Light?' snarled Krulshards, climbing on to the first rung of

the ladder.

 

'There is a strange light that shines blue and gold in the

Candle Hall. It burns into our eyes even through the wolfskin

shields.'

 

'Light!' sneered the Master of Darkness, reaching the top

of the wall and roughly pulling Elionbel and Martbel up with

him. 'I will destroy this hall and all the light that ever shone in

this foul city!'

 

'It was beautiful once,' Martbel whispered to her daughter,

stealing a furtive glance back across the ruined lower circles

of the city. 'The sheer strong walls once cast deep velvet

shadows over the maze of narrow streets that wound their way

up towards Candlebane Hall.'

 

Krulshards hissed and tugged sharply at his life thread,

silencing Martbel's whisperings. 'It is more beautiful now that

my army has rebuilt it!'

 

Elionbel laughed bitterly, pointing at the broken doors of

 

132

 

the Candle Hall, 'That is a hallowed place that you cannot

destroy, look!'

 

Krulshards turned back towards the Candle Hall, his face

blood red with anger and screamed out with rage and pain,

throwing the malice over his head against the light.

 

'It is a hallowed place!' laughed Elionbel, her hair blowing

in the clear morning breeze, her face reflecting all the brilliant

light that flooded out of Candlebane Hall. Krulshards lashed

out at Elionbel, catching her behind the knees with his black

knuckles, almost sending her toppling over the inner edge of

the wall to plunge to her death on the cobbles below. Martbel

sprang forward and wrapped the life thread around her

hands, 'Elionbel! I will save you,' she shouted as the thread

went taut, cutting into the palms of her hands.

 

'Elionbel!' Krulshards hissed, knowing now which one of

the Marcherwomen he sought. He reached down into the

blinding light and hooked his fingers into the fabric of

Elionbel's cloak, pulling her back to the safety of the top of

the wall. 'Now I know!' he sneered through the folds of his

malice. Sitting back on his haunches he laughed and grabbed

Martbel by his other hand. Holding both women before him

he stared at them through a crack in his malice, looking from

one to the other.

 

'You are payment against Thanehand,'he hissed at Elionbel. '

For his crimes you shall hang in torment in the City of

Night. But you, Marcherwoman,' he sneered, dribbling the

word across his malice, 'you shall serve me a purpose.' Half

turning his head, he looked down at the Candle Hall shielding

his eyes against the light. 'I cannot enter the Candle Hall, or

destroy the inner circle of the city, the light is against me, but

you, Marcherwoman, I can take, and enter, and spoil. You

 

 

shall be my last act of destruction in the Granite City.'

 

'No! No!' Martbel screamed, struggling against Krulshards'

strong grip as he dragged her into the malice. 'NO!'

Elionbel bit at the Nightmare's hand and wriggled free.

Turning she kicked and beat on the outer folds of the malice

 

133

 

 

but it was closed against her. Muffled and far away she could

hear her mother's screams as Krulshards took her, raping her

without mercy. 'She is mine!' gloated the Master of Nightmares,

his eyes blood red and swollen with victory.

 

'I will kill you for this, you foul Nightmare!' Elionbel cried,

falling to her knees. 'I will tear out your black heart for what

you have done this daylight, by Nevian I will!'

 

Krulshards laughed at her, pushing her aside as he opened

up the malice. 'Magicians cannot help you, Thanehand

cannot help. I take what I please! I am the Master of

Elundium!' With a sneer of satisfaction he thrust Martbel

back into the daylight. Stumbling forward, the bloody torn

hems of her skirts wetting the granite dust, she fell into

Elionbel's arms. Her mouth was trembling, her eyes were

wide with terror.

 

Krulshards reached out for Elionbel, a cruel snarl on his

lips, but before his fingers could touch her the ground shook

and a piercing cry tore the shadows apart. Pure blinding light

spilled out of Candlebane Hall across the cobbles. Krulshards

screamed as the light entered his malice, burning into his

face. Turning, he fled scrambling down the nearest siege

ladder.

 

Elionbel stood her ground, the light edging her cloak in

blue and gold. 'Even the bones of Elundium cry out against

what you have done!' she shouted as the Nightmare dragged

her after him. 'Elundium will have its revenge, and I shall be

its sword maiden, I swear it!' she cried, tumbling down the

ladder, bruising her shins on the rough granite rubble as she

landed on the ground.

 

'I may not have taken the inner circle of this city but I have

planted something more powerful and awesome here in its

ruins. Come,' commanded Krulshards, pulling at the life

thread. 'We travel a secret wild road back to the City of Night.

A road that is safe from roving bands of Marchers or columns

of Gallopers seeking revenge for all that I have destroyed.'

 

'Master!' Kerzolde gasped, climbing breathlessly over the

 

134

 

rubble and falling at the Nightmare's feet, 'Thanehand has

reached Woodsedge. He is on my heels and behind him on

the road is the Marcher we trapped with the nightmesh.'

 

'Thanehand?' the Nightmare snarled, staring back across

the ruins at what was once the beginnings of the green

winding road to Underfall. For a moment fear crossed his

cruel face and the life thread tightened on Elionbel and

Martbel's throats then he laughed, spitting out fine trails of

saliva on to the front of his malice. 'He will never find us,

Captainbeast. Look, the ground is spoiled and trodden black

for leagues around the city. There is nothing here to tell the

Galloperspawn of our passing. We leave no waymark save the

destruction of the city!'

 

'Thane is alive and he will find us, Nightmare!' Elionbel

shouted defiantly.

 

Krulshards turned fiercely on Elionbel. 'You are lost for

ever, Marcherwoman, lost in my darkness. There is no-one

left to search for you. Thanehand is dead!'

 

'He is alive. I heard that foul, broken-clawed beast speak

his name. He will never stop searching for us, no matter how

dark the road.'

 

'Quiet, Marcherwoman,' Krulshards hissed, shrugging his

shoulders against Elionbel's whisperings as he summoned his

Nightbeast army into a great shadow that covered the lower

ruins of the city. Lifting his arms he spread the malice and

waited for silence. 'Nigh/beasts!' he cried, thrusting a bone

black finger towards the trampled Greenway. 'You have taken

the Granite City and made it yours, go now into all Elundium

and spread my darkness. Render everything that loves the

daylight into ruins, but while you travel, sweeping as a black

tide, search carefully for one called Thanehand, and if you

find him bring him to the City of Night, for he is mine, mine

alone to destroy!'

 

 

Amidst the roar and rattle of Nightbeast armour the black

shadowy army spread out beyond the city. Kerzolde and his

brother jostled Elionbel and Martbel to follow the Master of

 

135

 

 

Nightbeasts into the wild lands beyond the outer edges of the

Granite City and they vanished without a trace on the heels of

the billowing malice, for Kerzolde and Kerhunge were careful

that nothing was dropped as a wayrnark for Thanehand.

 

136

 

 

~

3

 

The Battle Crescent is Formed

 

Tombel raised his hand and with a single twist of his

armoured gloves he halted the swift column of marching men.

Without further command, the warriors unsheathed their

broad, double-edged swords and drove them point first into

the soft edges of the Greenway. Removing their metal helms

they laid them, emblems facing inward, on the short cropped

grass and knelt in respect as the slow-moving Archer funeral

passed between them. Tombel saw Kyot leading the strike of

Archers that followed the funeral litter, each bowman with an

arrow necked lightly on to the string.

 

'Whom do you bury?' Tombel asked in a whisper, falling in

step with the young Archer.

 

'My father lies on the litter of oiled bows,' he answered

grey-faced with grief. 'He defended this Wayhouse alone

against Krulshards, the Master of Nightbeasts, and paid

cruelly with his life!'

 

-'Then the Nightmare is before us on the road!' Tombel

gasped, looking up at the sinking sun.

 

'He is at least one daylight ahead of you, my Lord,'

answered Kyot. 'My father's body was cold long before I

dismounted.'

 

'Where do you bury your father?' Tombel asked, looking

past the litter along the broad and empty Greenway.

 

'My father was the Keeper of this tower. It was his wish to

walk the Buryman's path as far as a true-aimed arrow will fly

from the platform in the top of the tower. Once around the

 

137

 

 

arrow we carry him, then back to the grave niche beside the

great wooden door. This was carved out by the armourers

long ago. Father will watch over us even in death. It is the

custom.'

 

'He was the greatest Archer in all Elundium,' Tombel

whispered as they walked around the spent arrow.

 

'And his grave niche will be set with one hundred silver

arrows. He will not want for a bowstring nor oil to wet and

supple the bow, it will be placed before him each daylight as

the sun rises,' whispered Kyot, blinking back the tears in his

eyes. They had passed into the shadow cast by the tower and

stood, heads bowed, before the grave niche. Carefully Kyot

pulled back the blue and gold cloak that covered his father's

body, lifted him off the litter and set him into the niche. The

armourers moved forward and with swift strokes they hammered

the silver arrows into the stone wall of the tower. Kyot

knelt and kissed the tattoo mark on his father's arm.

 

'I will avenge your death, even though Nevian was against

it,' he whispered, pouring cedar oil on to the bow resting

against Archer's shoulder.

 

'Will you take the Keepership if the King deems you fit to

take such a post?' Tombel asked as Kyot rose and turned away

from the grave.

 

'Nevian has already pledged me to it,' Kyot answered as

Sprint trotted forward neighing a greeting, 'but first I will

seek revenge on the Master of Nightbeasts, for he tortured my

father to death.'

 

'You would take the Keepership without the blessing of the

King?' Tombel cried as Kyot sprang lightly into the saddle.

 

'No,' answered the young Archer, his eyes hard with anger.

'First I will seek out the Crystal Maker, Fairday of Clatterford,

for he alone can forge glass arrow-heads to pierce the

Nightbeast's heart, and then, well-armed, I shall stand at

Thane's right hand and rid this land of Krulshards. Only

then, when the great Bow of Orm is silent, will I take the

Keepership, King willing.'

 

138

 

'Will you ride alone?' asked Tombel, searching the courtyard

for signs of other Archers preparing for the road.

 

But Kyot only laughed and pointed out along the dusty

Greenway towards Notley Marsh. 'I have other friends, my

Lord, who have helped me through great danger. Loyal

friends who sleep lighter than a downy feather and are

fearless in the dark. Look, here come the Border Runners

who defended me against the Nightbeasts on the road to

Underfall, they will help me to find Clatterford.'

 

Tombel stepped hastily backwards as two huge savage dogs

bounded into the courtyard and ran to Kyot's side. Turning

towards Tombel, their hackles rose razor sharp along their

backs and their lips curled in long-toothed snarls. Crouching,

step by step, they advanced, hard amber eyes fixed on

Tombel. 'Be easy, Tombel is a friend,' laughed Kyot, calling

the dogs back to sit by his stirrups. 'You see, my Lord,' he

smiled, reaching down to rub his hand through their thick

sable coats, 'I am better armed than I look!'

 

'Go, then, with my blessing, and follow the sun to Clatterford,'

shouted Tombel with an edge of relief in his voice after

Sprint's receding hoofbeats.

 

The Marchers crowded into the courtyards of Stumble

Hill, filling them to overflowing. 'Rest until eventime. Eat and

be ready for the road before the sun sets,' called out Tombel.

 

'It is all so wonderful. The colours, the touch and feel, the

smells, so wonderful; so much better than the Elders' stories!'

Tombel turned and smiled, seeing Willow standing between

the broken doors looking out across the flat grasslands that

led towards the Granite City.

 

'Perhaps the stories would have held more colour if your

Elder had seen the daylight!' laughed Tombel, moving to

Willow's side and putting his hand upon the young Tunnel

 

 

ler's shoulder.

 

'It is so much larger. So much . . . different!' Willow fell

silent, remembering the Elder's stories; remembering how

the old man would take the tiny point of light and carefully

 

139

 

 

build the picture of a tree, branch by branch, leaf by leaf. His

large, round eyes blinking, he gazed across the forest of trees

that grew along the Greenway'sedge and sighed; each one

was so different in all its tiny details, and yet they were so

much the same. He frowned, looking up at Tombel. 'How

many trees are there in Elundium?'

 

Tombel laughed, 'They are all individual, Willow, because

each one grows alone and wind and weather touch them

differendy. They are beyond counting.'

 

Willow frowned, shading his eyes and pointing out beyond

the trees. 'There is a column of dust, my Lord, rising out of

that dark valley beyond the road that we used. What can that

be?'

 

'That is the direction of Notley Marsh,' Tombel muttered

darkly, drawing out his sword and calling the Marchers into

battle order.

 

'Gallopers are on the road from the Marshes!' cried out a

watchman from the tower platform. Tombel relaxed and

waited easily between the doors as long columns of Gallopers

rode into view.

 

'Nightbeasts have used the Marsh Road,' Thoron cried,

dismounting stiffly from Equestrius' saddle and grasping

Tombel's arm in greeting.

 

'Equestrius!' willow shouted, running forward and throwing

his arms around the great Warhorse's neck.

 

Thoron laughed, 'Guard him well, young warrior, for we

ride a hard and dangerous road on the Nightbeast's heels.'

 

Willow looked up at the proud lines of Warhorses that had

halted behind Equestrius before turning back towards

Thoron. 'You have bridled him and put a saddle on his back,'

Willow cried. 'I thought the Lord of Horses ran free with no

man as his master!'

 

Thoron smiled, stretching stiffly, 'No man will ever be

master of Equestrius, his freedom is beyond question. We

hunt the Nightbeasts together as friends; he wears Esteron's

saddle and bridle to help an old man on a hard road. We

 

140

 

.

 

,

l

i

 

,

 

found the tack in the hut of thorns beside a broken spear

shaft. Thane must have fought a great battle there and littered

the Greenway with many slain Nightbeasts before he escaped.

We followed the Nightbeasts' footprints through the marshes;

they were close on Thane's heels.'

 

'How can you be sure he did escape them?' Willow asked.

 

Thoron reached up and unclipped a battered and dirty

helm from the pommel of the saddle. 'I found this helm

beside the road in the marshes.'

 

'Thane reached this Wayhouse!' Tombel interrupted, nodding

in the direction of a huge bonfire that crackled in the

evening air. 'Those are the Nightbeasts that he slaughtered

defending Archer in the last moments of the Keeper's life.'

 

'Archer dead?' Thoron cried, seeing for the first time the

grave niche beside the broken doors. 'How so?'

 

'Krulshards, the Master of Nightbeasts,' Tombel replied,

honing the edge of his sword with a sharp stone attached to

his belt.

 

'Which road did he take?'

 

Tombel silently pointed with the stone across the grasslands

towards Woodsedge.

 

 

'Horsemen! We ride before the sun sets!' cried Thoron,

summoning Errant to his side. He hurried to kneel before the

grave niche. 'We will make the Nightmare pay dear, friend,'

he whispered. 'All those that love the morning light and soft

shadows at noon will gather. You have my word!' Reaching

forward he tipped a trickle of oil on to Archer's bow and then

stood.

 

'Errant,' he said quietly, taking him amongst the spelled

horses, 'will you turn north through the far edge of the black

forest? I fear we run on too tight a road and may miss the

Nightmare in our headlong dash for Granite City.'

 

Errant lifted his head and called for Dawnrise in a loud

voice above the clatter of hooves and jingling of harness along

the horse lines. The first stallion of Underfall came forwards,

snorting, his steelsilver battle coat glittering in the evening

 

141

 

 

light. Catching the reins Errant asked, 'Will you run for me

again on a darker wilder road than the one that leads to the

gates of the Granite City? Will you take me out to the

wildlands beyond the black forest?' Dawnrise stamped his

hoof and snorted and waited for Errant to mount.

 

'I will take the Nighthorses of Underfall, for they were bred

on the dark side of morning and gathered from all the wilder

places. Thunderstone has readied them for such a gallop,'

Errant cried, calling all the Nighthorses and their riders into

neat columns. 'We ride beyond the Elundium of legends into

wild lands where Nightbeasts crouch in every dark shadow!'

Quickly he reached down and gripped Thoron's hand. 'To a

safe King and a land without Nightbeasts!'

 

Equestrius reared up, neighing fiercely and called forward

half of the Warhorses that had travelled with Thoron through

Notley Marsh. 'The bonds were broken,' he snorted to the

old warrior, 'but the Warhorses will follow Errant to fight for

the sunlight.'

 

Eagle Owl flexed his talons and hooted, rising up from

Thoron's shoulder into the evening sky. 'Battle Owls,' he

shrieked in piercing notes, calling all the owls that had

survived the battle before the Gates of Night into a stoop that

darkened the sky. 'Fly with the warriors of Underfall and

search out the way, be their eyes on the dark road ahead.'

 

Wild barking broke out along the Greenway's edge as huge

Border Runners bounded on to the road. Grannog, Lord of

Dogs, crossed the Greenway to sit at Thoron's feet, yawned

lazily, then licked his ancient hands.

 

'You will not be alone,' cried Thoron, against the thunder

of hoolbeats, as Errant led the horses across the Greenway

and out into the grasslands beyond. Grannog growled softly

and rose, wagging his tail, and led the Border Runners into

the grasslands, fanning them out on either side of the columns

of horses. Stoop by stoop the owls flew ahead, searching out

the way.

 

'We will meet again in better daylights,' cried Thoron,

 

142

 

. l

 

. ,

 

l

 

,

:D

 

.,

 

~ L

 

turning back into the Tower of Stumble Hill.

 

Tombel frowned, doubting Thoron's counsel as he marshalled

the Marchers into readiness for the long night's

journey ahead. Thoron sighed, taking Tombel's hand, 'There

was a time long ago when each of us trusted the other's

second sight, and knew that wisdom tempered each move.'

 

To*'bel looked steadily into Thoron's eyes. 'I fear for

Elionbel. It weakens me and blinds my purpose.'

 

Thoron drew Tombel close. 'I fear for Thane, yet it

strengthens my resolve and clears all other things aside. Lean

on me now, old friend, put your hand upon my shoulder and

let me lead you through the blindness.'

 

'What would you counsel?' Tombel whispered, afraid that

his Marchers would see his weakness.

 

Thoron drew Tombel out on to the Greenway and pointed

along the narrow road that led through the grasslands. 'If we

come too late to Woodsedge or the Granite City, Krulshards

has all Elundium in which to vanish. Spread your Marchers

into a great crescent twenty leagues wide. Take only one

column of your fastest men along the Greenway and let my

horsemen be spread throughout the crescent in swift-moving

 

 

squadrons. The Warhorses and the Border Runners that

remain with us are already moving in a wide crescent; follow

their wisdom.'

 

Tombel squeezed Thoron's hand and saw the wisdom in

his counsel. 'Thank you, old friend,' he whispered before

calling for his captains to come forward into a marshalling

council.

 

Shortly after darkness had fallen the two old warriors

climbed on to the platform in the Wayhouse Tower and

looked out over the wide crescent of advancing lights that now

twinkled across the grasslands. 'When the furthest lights

reach the horizon we will follow you,' Thoron said, smiling at

his friend in the darkness.

 

'None will escape us!' Tombel whispered, his foot upon the

first step. 'But ride hard and fast that you may be at my side at

 

143

 

 

Woodsedge' he called, running down the tower's winding

steps.

 

Thoron leaned out of the arched window and looked down

at his waiting column of horsemen beside the tower fretting

for the road. 'We will not be far behind you,' he cried. 'You

will see us, a string of fast-moving lights shining out in the

darkness. Look for the lights of our candles!'

 

'Kingspeed!' shouted Tombel from the Greenway as the

tramp of marching feet faded into the night air.

 

The wound on Thoron's neck ached as he descended the

tower stairway, dully throbbing with each footfall. 'Kingspeed,

Thane,' he said, knowing that his grandson was all alone

somewhere out there in the darkness.

 

144

 

.

 

,

l

 

i.,

 

i

 

:t

.1

 

,

t

 

~ _

 

On the Nightmare's Heels

 

'Gallop, Stumble, gallop!' urged Thane, driving the little relay

horse as hard as he dare, trying to catch up with Kerzolde.

The grey hours had come, spreading cold mist between the

close, crowding trees on either side of the road. Thane cursed

the half-light; ghost tails that fogged the Greenway, making

him duck beneath low branches or jump fallen trees that

suddenly appeared across the path.

 

'Nightbeasts have used this road,' he shouted, looking at

the damage all about him. Stumble suddenly lurched forward,

crashing to his knees, sending Thane head over heels on to

the wet grass. Thane grumbled and climbed to his feet.

Taking the reins he put his foot back into the stirrup to

remount but Stumble snorted with pain and backed away

from him, his head nodding violently with each step. Thane

slipped the reins over Stumble's head and bent down to pick

up the horse's foreleg. The shoe had been partly torn away

from the hoof and a jagged splinter of ironwood was embedded

in the sole of the horse's foot. Thane gripped the splinter

between his thumb and first two fingers and wrenched it free.

Blood oozed from the narrow wound on to Thane's hand as

he cleaned out the foot. Taking Stumble's fetlock between his

knees he used his dagger to prise off the shoe, unbent the

nails and tucked the twisted shoe into his belt.

 

'We will never catch Kerzolde now!' he muttered angrily,

walking a few paces ahead into the mist. 'Everything that I

touch seems cursed with ill luck.' Stumble limped painfully

 

145

 

 

forward and brushed his mist-wet muzzle on Thane's cheek.

Thane stroked Stumble's neck and gently pulled his ears.

'Forgive me. I pushed you too hard and hurt you with my

haste.'

 

Stumble whinnied, pushed past Thane and limped on

towards the Granite City. Thane called after him, calling him

to stop, 'I am pledged to chase the Nightmare. Love of

Elionbel drives me forward, but you, great heart, need not

follow this road. You are free to return to Stumble Hill or

wander where you please in Elundium, but first give me your

foreleg and I will plug the wound.'

 

Stumble neighed, lifted his front leg and stood patiently

still while Thane cut a strip of leather from the top of his

ruined boot and forced it up into the wound. 'That will keep

the dirt out,' he smiled, putting the foreleg back on the

ground and running his hand through Stumble's mane.

Stumble arched his neck and moved slowly forward, nodding

his head each time he put the injured foot on to the ground.

Thane quickly overtook him and walked at his shoulder. 'You

are a great warrior, Stumble, and a better friend than I

deserve in these dark times.'

 

Stumble forged ahead, biting on the bit, grinding his teeth

against the pain. He fixed his eyes on the horizon's rim,

looking for the sunrise. Thane bent low, searching the

Gree!nway. 'The Nightmares' prints have vanished amongst

all these other foul Nightbeast tracks. All we can do is to

follow the Greenway to the Granite City.'

 

Stumble snorted and tried to lengthen his stride. 'Easy!'

whispered Thane, catching the rein and gently pulling him

back to a slower pace. 'Haste will cripple you for ever,

Stumble. I have caused you enough pain in bringing me this

far, please walk carefully.'

 

Stumble slowed his pace and the noon hour slipped quickly

by before the giant mound of granite blocks that had once

been the proud City of Granite Kings came into view. Thane

paused, gazing in horror at the ruins. 'It was so beautiful,' he

 

146

 

.

 

:,

~1

 

whispered, his hand tightening on the reins. He narrowed

his eyes and stared at the devastation. 'But there is a

shadow around the base of the city. It is more solid than a

dust haze and stiller than smoke.' Frowning he muttered,

'How can a ring of shadows form in clear sunlight? Look, the

shadows are moving, spreading out across the field

towards us!'

 

Turning, Thane searched the Greenway and saw far

behind him a single figure hurrying forward. 'That must be

Arbel. I wonder if he has seen the shadows yet?'

 

As the shadows drew closer they took on hideous shapes

and Thane saw clearly what they were. 'Nigh/beasts!' he

cried, looking round frantically for a place to hide. 'Quickly,

we will go to that copse of tangle-trees and brambles beside

the road.'

 

Together they disappeared between the close-grown tress,

squeezing under their low branches, forcing a passage

through the thick clumps of brambles, until, scratched and

bleeding, they were completely hidden in the centre of the

copse. 'Hush,' whispered Thane, putting a bloody thornpricked

finger to his lips. Stumble whinnied softly and knelt,

his ears twisting in the direction of the coarse Nightbeast

voices and the dry rattle of their armour as they passed all

around them.

 

'Master rules now!' laughed a voice, its owner slashing at

the tangle-trees with a hooked scythe.

 

'Everywhere will soon be covered in beautiful darkness,'

shouted another.

 

'Find and kill Thanehand!' roared a deeper voice. 'He is

 

 

somewhere on this road. Destroy the tangle-trees, search

under every stone.'

 

'Kerhunge has set watchers by the ruined gates. They will

kill him if he slips by us!'

 

'Kill!' sneered another. 'Master will hang him up beside the

dirty Marcher woman he has captured and peel off his skin,

layer by layer.'

 

147

 

 

aLaughter amongst the Nightbeasts turned into roars of

delight.

 

'He will pull his nails out one by one!'

 

'He will nibble on his eyeballs!'

 

'Find the Galloperspawn!' screamed the deep voice, driving

the Nightbeasts forward with a twelve-tailed whip that cracked

at their heels. 'Spread the darkness throughout Elundium.'

 

The tangle-trees were being torn branch from branch; closer

and closer the cruel curved scythes slashed through the

undergrowth.

 

'Look! Look over there,' snarled a Nightbeast voice less than

two paces from where Thane and Stumble were hiding. 'There is

the Galloperspawn the Master seeks, running towards us along

the Greenway. Quickly, set a trap and catch him alive, bind him

tightly for our Master of Darkness.'

 

The search through the copse of tangle-trees abruptly

stopped and Thane bit on his knuckles, powerless to go to

Arbel's aid as he heard the faint ring of steel and cries for help

on the Greenway. He dare not reveal where he was hiding, he

had little hope of helping Arbel against so many Nightbeasts.

He must wait until the Nightbeast army had passed and then try

to follow Krulshards. Yet the screams of Arbel's defeat burned

in his ears and echoed long after he had been taken prisoner,

and he felt wretched and cowardly hiding beneath a canopy of

thorns.

 

Thane and Stumble crouched in statue stillness, hardly

daring to take more than shallow breaths. Only after late

afternoon had pulled the shadows long did the last wave of

Nightbeasts pass their hiding place. Gradually the dry rattle of

their horrible armour faded and silence settled over the black

trampled fields around them. Thane frowned and slowly rose

from their hiding place. Why had the Nightbeasts not returned

with Arbel towards the city? Where had they taken him?

Krulshards had taken Elionbel from Woodsedge and from what

the Nightbeasts had said he had her prisoner

 

148

 

;

 

:~

 

b

~1

 

somewhere in the Granite City. Touching Stumble's mane he

whispered, 'We must tread carefully, there are watchers set by

the gates.'

 

Darkness had fallen and the night sky was sewn with a

thousand stars before Thane and Stumble moved cautiously

from shadow to shadow, working their way along the last

league of the Greenway that led to the ruined gates. Far above

them, on the summit of the hill, a sheer wall rose, blocking out

the stars and within the wall a fierce light burned with the

colour of molten gold. 'Look at Candlebane Hall!' Thane

whispered. 'It must still be held against the Nightmare. Look at

that light!'

 

Thane laughed and stared hard at the roof of the Candle

Hall; he blinked, shook his head and looked again. 'Either the

stonemasons have been busy or owls perched on the roof. We

may yet have friends in this dark place.'

 

The broken columns of the gate loomed before them. Thane

listened to the night wind and caught the faint rattle of

Nightbeasts' armour. Drawing the dagger he slipped down into

the dyke beside the road. Following the wet bottom of the ditch

he entered the shadows of the gate. The first watcher stood

above him, silhouetted against the stars. Thane looked to the

left and the right, but the second watcher was nowhere to be

seen. Hand over hand he scaled the steep slope of the dyke, the

long blade of his dagger gripped between his teeth. Near the

top his foot slipped, sending broken granite chippings

cascading down behind him.

 

'Who?' snarled the watcher, spinning round, his spear blade

 

 

held out menacingly against the blackness of the dyke.

'Galloperspawn!'

 

Thane rolled aside as the spear blade sank into the steep

gravel slope beside his head. Reaching up he thrust the

dagger, following the shape of the watcher's arm, keeping the

blade parallel. He felt it slice through the thin armour beneath

the armpit and sink deep into the heart.

 

'Galloperspawn!' the watcher cried again as Thane pulled

 

149

 

 

the blade free. A noise behind Thane made him jump

forwards, away from a curving scythe that cut through the air

just above his head. Turning he saw three watchers, two with

spears drawn back ready to throw; the third was turning the

scythe ready to strike again. Thane crouched and for the first

time wished he had kept his grandfather's sword. Putting his

free hand on to the ground he scooped up a fistful of granite

chips and flung it at the watchers. Ducking to the left, the

dagger held firmly with both hands, he rolled into a ball,

expecting the watchers to pounce upon him but instead he

heard piercing screams and the clatter of spear shafts falling

on to the Greenway. He jumped up and saw the watchers

struggling and clawing at three Battle Owls that had stooped

out of the darkness to attack their faces. He leapt forwards

and three times he plunged the dagger.

 

'Thank you, owls!' he called softly as the Nightbeast

watchers fell forwards, faces torn and bleeding, on to the

Greenway. 'Quickly,' he whispered, summoning Stumble out

of the darkness. 'There must be dozens of watchers. Follow

me into the first circle of the city, I know all the secret ways.'

 

Without a sound the owls hovered above the ruined gates,

looking from left to right before they lifted up and away into

the darkness as silently as they had come.

 

Together Stumble and Thane entered the city, picking

their way carefully through the rubble-strewn streets.

 

' 'Ware the shadows!' Thane whispered, his eyes wide

against the dark silence. 'The Learning Hall once stood here,'

he whispered, touching the smooth broken door posts with his

free hand. He tried to laugh, but it came out as a dry sound

without humour, remembering that this was where it had all

began; the Loremaster and the Chancellors' sons hot on his

heels for revenge.

 

'Oh, Nevian,' he whispered, 'I have failed the Granite King

and brought nothing but ruin to this beautiful city. Help me

now, Master of Magic, to find Elionbel, just as you once gave

me justice here in this Learning Hall and made the Lore

 

150

 

master tell the truth. Help me now!' Running his hand through

Stumble's mane he tried hard to push back the beginnings of

despair. 'We must search every lane and back alleyway, every

dark corner and secret hole and if need drives us we must

turn over every fallen block of stone, but we must find

Elionbel!'

 

A long night of searching led them up through the ruined

but empty circles of the city. Twice they hid behind huge

slabs of stone as Nightbeast watchers passed them by, but they

found nothing, not a whisper of Elionbel. Thane stood wearily

looking up at the sheer granite wall of the inner circle.

 

'Too late, always too late!' he shouted, clenching his fist

and striking it angrily against the wall. Sinking on to his knees

he bowed his head and wept. 'Whatever I touch, wherever I

go, the Nightmare runs before me, destroying, ruining and

taking. I am a curse of all Elundium!'

 

Thane drew his dagger and stared through his tears at the

blade.

 

'Eversharp, Duclos had said; when all hope fades then take

out this blade.' Thane gripped the hilt and waited. 'Well,' he

sobbed at the darkness. 'Where is hope? Gone before this

Nightmare just like everything else.' He laughed bitterly, and

then turned the blade inwards towards his heart.

 

'Elionbel, I have failed. I know not where to look for you.

The city is ringed with black, burned footprints, watchers

walk in each ruined circle. Elionbel, oh Elionbel! This ruin is

all my fault.'

 

Thane pressed the point of the blade against the coarse

weave of his undershirt and it cut through, bringing a small

trickle of blood on to the blade. Stumble whinnied and

lowered his head to push Thane's hand away.

 

'Tombel was right, I am not bloodworthy, I am not even

brave enough to stand beside your brother, Arbel, and die like

 

 

a man!'

 

Stumble neighed fiercely, forcing his head between the

dagger and Thane's chest, pushing the blade away. Thane

 

151

 

 

suddenly realized the bond which had grown between him

and the little relay horse and, ashamed, he resheathed the

dagger. He stroked the horse's ears and whispered, 'Duclos

was right. The dagger does bring hope and together we will

hunt this Nightmare and make him pay dearly for what he has

done!'

 

A soft voice laughed in the darkness, 'Hope is the power

that comes from within. It is the thread that weaves our fate

and separates the weak from the strong.'

 

'Nevian!' Thane cried, leaping to his feet and looking from

left to right. 'Nevian, where are you?'

 

'Enter the part of the city that the Nightbeasts could not

defeat and we shall meet,' whispered the voice.

 

Thane looked quickly about him, scrambling through the

rubble. Somehow he had to scale the wall. Stumble snorted,

scraping at a Nightbeast siege ladder that lay at the foot of

the wall. 'I'll never be able to move it,' Thane hissed, gripping

the top rung and pulling it away from the wall. It moved

quickly and lightly, bumping over the granite blocks, and

tripped Thane over. Laughing, he leapt to his feet and

balanced the ladder, resting the top rung near the rim of

the wall.

 

'Stay hidden from the watchers and wait for me,' he

whispered to Stumble, climbing hand over hand into the

darkness. Chill nightwinds tugged at his ragged half-cloak

making him shiver and he pulled it tightly around his

shoulders. Below him in deep shadow the Candle Hall stood,

the roof crowded with a stoop of staring Battle Owls, but the

inner circle of the city was empty, nothing moved. Thane

stared along the inner curve of the wall looking for a way

down. Twenty paces further along the wall he could see the

shadow of the narrow set of winding steps that led down to the

cobbles.

 

'Stay well hidden,' he called down to Stumble before he ran

lightly down the steps and crossed the cobbles to the doors of

Candlebane Hall.

 

152

 

'Nevian?' he called, entering the tall echoing hall. 'Where

are you, Nevian?'

 

A soft light glowed on the high dais of the throne, moving

through all the hues and colours of a summer afternoon.

 

'I am here, Thanehand, sitting at the feet of Kings. Come

to me.' Thane crossed the smooth polished marble floor,

frowning at the emptiness, and hurried between the high

fluted columns of broken candle stems to the throne.

 

'Where are all the candles?' he asked. 'This place was once

so full of light it hurt your eyes to enter on a dark night.'

 

Nevian laughed, taking Thane's hand and guiding him to

sit on the empty throne. 'The city has been siege-locked by

the Nightbeasts, Thane, and it cost every candle for King

Holbian to break the siege and rise triumphant against their

shadows.'

 

Thane frowned, 'Break the siege? The city is weak and the

King is gone, how can that be a triumph?'

 

Nevian smiled and turned to watch the grey hours flood the

sky with cold dawn light. 'Long ago, young man, when

Elundium was new formed, Krulshards, the Master of Darkness,

strove to steal my daylight. We both fought and argued,

setting his Nightbeasts and Nightmares against my Warhorses

and the Granite Kings until,' Nevian paused, drawing the

rainbow cloak over Thane's legs against the chill dawn winds,

'until in haste I took King Holbian, the last Granite King,

from the living rock wall before he was whole, before he was

fit to be a King. He had a terrible flaw that I had overlooked.

He feared the dark. Krulshards was quick to find his

weakness and through it he has brought darkness and despair

to all Elundium.'

 

'Where is the triumph then?' demanded Thane.

 

 

Nevian laughed, clapping his hands together. 'Where is the

King? That should be your question. Where is the last

Granite King? Show me which corner he hides in.'

 

Thane stared in bewilderment at the Master of Magic and

answered, 'Perhaps he lies crushed beneath the fallen tower.'

 

153

 

 

Nevian's laughter faded. 'He has gone, Thane. I know not

where, but he overcame his fear of the dark and used every

candle from this hall to keep back the Nightbeasts. He

cheated Krulshards out of his victory and left him only ruin!'

 

'But the Nightbeasts are bringing darkness and ruin everywhere.-

Elionbel and her mother are with Krulshards!' Thane

cried. 'I heard the Nightbeasts talking about their victory

while we hid from them in a clump of tanglewood trees. We

only escaped capture when the Nightbeasts saw Arbel on the

Greenway; they thought it was me.'

 

Nevian sighed, putting his hands on Thane's shoulders.

'Krulshards has gone, and the ruins of this city are nothing

but a fool's victory. Revenge against you, Thane, ran him

clear across Elundium to take Elionbel and fear of you,

Thane, drives him onwards.'

 

'Fear of me?' asked Thane. 'How could the Nightmare fear

me?'

 

'Because you do not fear his darkness. Thane, Krulshards

has a weakness as great as King Holbian's; he has shown how

his power is born of fear, of fearing the dark, but you fight

amongst his Nightbeasts and brush his Nightmares aside. You

enter the City of Night and bring light to all his secret places;

you drove him out of the darkness. You are the beginning of a

new age and he knows not how to fight you, save through

revenge.

 

'Through Elionbel!'

 

'Yes, Thane, she has in many ways been your weakness,

drawing you, luring you. Krulshards sees this and through her

he will try and destroy you. He has Elionbel and her mother,

Martbel, tied by his life thread. Harm him and the thread

tightens around their throats choking them to death.'

 

'How can I fight against this Nightmare? How can I ever

rescue Elionbel?'

 

'I know not,' whispered Nevian, 'but you must follow in

Krulshards' footsteps and find the way. You must follow your

fate wherever it leads for all Elundium waits on your purpose.'

 

154

 

,(

 

it- . .

 

Thane rose to his feet and gripped Nevian's hand. 'I feel so

weak and helpless against Krulshards and so afraid that I will

fail.'

 

'Yet you have trodden where only Kings can go and

brought defeat to the very doors of night. Look to the

morning, Thane, and find hope in the new daylight. Look for

the Nightmare's shadow, for that is his greatest weakness.'

 

'Everything I have touched the Nightmare has destroyed,'

Thane whispered, turning to face the beginnings of a new

daylight.

 

'He is desperate, Thane, and sees his own ruin in you. You

are the new Elundium that does not fear the dark. The power

that will one day put an end to his Nightmares and his

Nightbeasts.'

 

Thane laughed bitterly. 'You talk of power and Kings and

yet I walk alone in the darkness with only a lame friend at my

side. I have nothing with which to fight this Nightmare but the

blade Duclos gave me at our parting on the lawns of

Gildersleeves.'

 

Nevian turned sharply, throwing the rainbow cloak across

his shoulder, filling the Candle Hall with the light and beauty

of a summer day. 'You are a fool if you think that, Thane.

Even now the armourers are hammering out hot iron on the

anvil and the Warhorses, Border Runners and Battle Owls are

fretting to fight the darkness. Come with me to the top of the

wall and see if you strive alone.'

 

Catching Thane's hand in his own, Nevian ran out through

 

 

the Candledoors across the cobbles and up the narrow

winding steps. 'Look!' he commanded, throwing his arms

open. Thane caught his breath and gazed out across the still,

dark fields and hedgerows to the black horizoneverywhere

there were lights, ribbons of slow-moving lights spread out in

a wide crescent as far as he could see. Columns of fastermoving

lights pressed through the crescent and raced up over

the hillocks or vanished into small valleys only to reappear

moments later.

 

155

 

 

'You are not alone!' Nevian laughed. 'That is the vanguard

of the army you led on the high plateau. They have marched

and galloped without rest on your heels.'

 

'They come too late. Too late to save the Granite City and

too late to save Elionbel.'

 

'It is your place to follow the Master of Nightbeasts, Thane.

Tombel and your grandfather Thoron will turn the warriors

and hunt the Nightbeasts throughout Elundium."

 

'Which way do I travel?' Thane asked, his foot on the top

 

rung of the siege ladder.    .

 

Nevian looked to the horizon edge to where the sun was

beginning to burn with a bright red fire. 'Look in all the wild

places where the sun does not shine. Follow the flight of the

grey swans.'

 

'Stumble is lame!' Thane called as he descended the

ladder.

 

Nevian laughed, 'I am the Master of Magic and I say he is

sound and ready for the road!'

 

'You are a great power!' Thane answered, calling up into

the grey morning light.

 

Nevian sighed quietly to himself, 'I am but a shadow

against your power, Thane, for in you there is a power that

succeeds without magic.' Thane reached the first rung of the

ladder and jumped down on to the ground. Stumble whinnied

and trotted to meet him.

 

'Nevian has touched you,' Thane cried, seeing the horse

moving soundly, 'and he has taken the horseshoe from my

belt without me seeing or feeling it go. He is truly a great

magician.'

 

'Follow the swans!' Nevian cried. 'Hurry, hurry!'

 

'Which way?' Thane shouted, looking up at the rainbow

coat flapping in the morning breeze.

 

Nevian lifted his hand and silently pointed towards the

rising sun. Thane shaded his eyes and followed the hand,

searching the dark horizon line, looking past the slow-moving

crescent of lights.

 

156

 

:

 

:

 

A.....

 

'There, Stumble, just above the horizon. Look! There are

two lines of dark shapes that beat the morning wind into a gale

beneath their sweeping wingspans. Look at the grey swans!'

Slowly the swans flew over the ruined city, their long slender

necks and sharp orange beaks held out before them. Ogion,

the leading swan whose feathers were the colour of winter

shadows, cried out in haunting notes of the Nightbeasts he

had seen and the destruction that was spreading as a black

tide across Elundium.'

 

'Lead this warrior, Thanehand!' Nevian cried. 'Show him

the Nightmare's footprints.'

 

Ogion flew low across the roof of Candlebane Hall, circling

once around the Master of Magic. 'Old legends foretell of this

search for the Nightmare, Krulshards, they cry out bad omens

that will lead us into silence. It would be our peril to help this

warrior, Thanehand.'

 

Nevian laughed, letting the rainbow cloak flow out in the

wind the swans had stirred up. 'He carries the fate of all

Elundium in his sword arm and he cares nothing for ancient

tales. He hunts the Nightmare, Krulshards, and greatly needs

your sharp eyes to guide him.'

 

Ogion circled again, 'There would be nothing but despair

 

 

in such a search,' he hissed, turning towards the wildlands.

 

'The Battle Owls have perched upon this warrior's shoulders

and Equestrius' son has let him ride upon his back; he

would protect you and make all Elundium safe for your

cygnets once Krulshards is dead.'

 

Ogion hissed and turned back, swooping low across the

place where Thane stood. Looking down he searched

Thane's heart and found it full of sorrow and pain. 'Why does

he follow the Nightmare?' he asked, sharply.

 

'Because,' whispered Thane, lifting his head, 'because he

has stolen everything I love, and destroyed everything I once

held dear.'

 

'Lead him to the Nightmare and all Elundium will be safe

for you,' urged Nevian.

 

157

 

 

Ogion circled again and flew low over Thane, calling out

his name, before he turned away from the city. Thane sprang

into the saddle and spurred Stumble to follow the vanishing

swans. Ogion cried out Thane's name against the rising wind.

Far, far ahead, not yet touched by the rising sun, he saw

Krulshards' hurrying figure, the malice streaming out with his

haste. Ogion beat his black wings faster, urging the horseman

on.

 

158

 

I'

 

.

 

;

 

:~

 

. ~

 

I'

i

 

l

 

I~

 

A Council in Candlebane Hall

 

Wearily Tombel reached the top of the siege ladder and

offered an armour-gloved hand to Thoron as he climbed the

last few rungs. Together they turned and looked out into the

sunrise to see the jumbled wreck of the Granite City spread

out below them.

 

'We have run hard to this defeat,' Tombel muttered

bitterly, watching the great crescent of lights stop at the outer

edges of the city and let the faster-moving columns of

Gallopers pass into the lower rubble-strewn streets.

 

Thoron turned and stared down into the empty inner

circle, searching the shadows. 'Something is out of place,' he

whispered, touching Tombel's arm. 'There is no destruction

beyond the wall. The Nightbeasts did not take the inner

circle!'

 

'The Candle Hall doors are broken, and one of the Granite

Towers has collapsed destroying the armoury, but otherwise

it is untouched,' Tombel observed.

 

'Come,' whispered Thoron, treading carefully down the

narrow steps. 'There must be survivors of the siege, perhaps

even the King. Perhaps they are hiding in Candlebane Hall.'

 

The silence felt eerie and unnatural as their armoured

boots echoed on the cobblestones. Tombel unsheathed his

broad Marching sword and Thoron drew his long Galloping

blade as they came level with the doors of the Candle Hall.

 

'We came hard-riding to break the siege and free our

King!' Tombel shouted.

 

159

 

 

'Come out into the new daylight!' Thoron cried, striding

into the gloomy hall. The emptiness stopped him one pace

inside the doors and he stared in disbelief at the broken

candlestems and cold wax channels.

 

'Who in all Elundium,' he hissed, 'has dared to strip the

Candle Hall of all its beauty and let the night overpower the

light? Who?'

 

'Enter, warriors. Come forwards, siege-breakers. The

Candle Hall is yours!'

 

'Nevian!' Thoron cried, running forwards across the

polished marble floor. 'We are come too late! The King has

gone. Has Krulshards, the Nightmare, taken him?' ~

 

'What of Thane? He rode before us, that much we know

from Stumble Hill and Tombel's son, Rubel, whom we found

badly wounded at Woodsedge.'

 

'Nevian, Nevian,' Tombel cried, falling to his knees beside

Thoron. 'The Nightmare has Martbel and Elion. He took

them in revenge from Woodsedge. We fear for them. Arbel is

on the road with Thanehand, that much we know.'

 

Nevian reached out his hands and laid them gently on

Tombel's shoulders, letting the rainbow cloak fall in soft folds

across the Marcher's back.

 

'Be at peace, my mightiest Captain,' he whispered. 'Elionbel

and Martbel are safe for the moment. Krulshards will not

kill them while Thane lives; he took them to lure Thanehand

to his death. But of Arbel I know little more than you, only

that the Nightbeasts overtook him on the road and took him

prisoner.'

 

'All my family are destroyed,' cried Tombel, casting himself

down on to the cold polished floor.

 

'Fate has played you hard, and even I, the Master of Magic,

cannot change it,' Nevian answered, helping Tombel to his

feet.

 

'Come, come, my warriors,' Nevian urged before he turned

and climbed the high dais to the empty throne and sat down.

 

'Sit!' he commanded, pointing to the lower step. 'Sit and

 

160

 

t

I ~

r

 

~_

 

listen and grow wise. I do not make your fates, nor choose

which ones should come forwards. At the Bondbreaking you

both stood before me, raw-boned and young, the survivors of

that great battle on the Causeway road and to each of you I

gave a task. Thoron, through earlier deeds, was to ride the

Warhorse, Amarch, and thus travel into legends as the last

Errant rider of the Granite Kings. It cost you much, dear

friend: the loss of Amarch and the Lord of Owls, Silverwing,

but still you served me well and kept hope in men's hearts

during the dark years, riding the lonely Greenways at my

bidding.'

 

Turning to Tombel Nevian smiled. 'Yours was the more

difficult task, the Keepership of Woodsedge, which became

with the passing suns a place that the Nightbeasts might

attack, but more than that, the keeping and remembering of

all the Lore of Elundium; that was a heavy burden for even

the bravest Marcher Captain.'

 

'And I did not fail you, my Lord,' Tombel cried, his face

flushed and angry. 'Although I have- lost everything, I did not

fail you. I remembered every jot of Lore.'

 

'No, you did not fail me,' Nevian whispered, 'but on that

lonely road you lost your way and found more in men's deeds

than you did in the men themselves. The glitter of glory

blinded you and the shock and crash of battle deafened your

ears.'

 

 

Tombel hung his head and replied, 'I strove to serve you,

Lord, and keep pure all the Lore you taught me.'

 

Nevian smiled and leaned forwards. 'If that is so, which is

the greater man - he who lights the way in the darkness or he

who carries the King's standard into battle?'

 

Tombel frowned. 'Only a king can choose who carries the

standard!'

 

'But the man who pays for the candle choses the Candleman.

King Holbian chose Thane's father to carry the emblem

that is now furled at your side. He carried the standard of the

owl in blue and gold and on his death the King laid him across

 

161

 

 

this throne as honour to all he had done lighting the way in a

dark world.'

 

'Then I judged Thane wrongly,' Tombel whispered.

 

'No! You only judged him blindly. There was no malice or

greed, just blindness.'

 

Tombel turned to Thoron, with tears in his eyes, and took

his hand. 'My loss will be ten thousand times worse if I lose

your friendship for the way I treated Thane and how I spoke

to you on the high plateau.'

 

Thoron smiled and gripped his friend's hands. 'When the

Nightmare is dead and Elionbel and Martbel are safe home

then you can welcome Thane into your house, that will be

enough.'

 

Nevian smiled and clapped his hands, shaking folds

of the rainbow cloak to fill the Candle Hall with a bright

light.

 

'Now to more pressing matters - to King Holbian and the

Nightmare, EQulshards. Two nights ago I entered the Granite

City, secretly passing through the Nightbeast ranks up towards

the sheer granite wall you scaled to reach this hall. I

saw the Granite Tower tremble and collapse and in the dense

stonelike fog that hung over the city I entered the Candle Hall

and defended it against the Mghtbeasts, lighting the sky with

a blinding light of blue and gold.'

 

'The King,' Tombel asked. 'Where was the King?'

 

'In the morning light I searched the summit of the city but

the King and all the city folk, high and low born, had

vanished. It was empty.'

 

'Perhaps they are beneath the tower,' Thoron ventured,

looking darkly at the mound of granite blocks heaped up

beyond the Candledoors.

 

'No. I have searched amongst the rubble and the King has

gone. All I know is that he overcame his fear of the dark and

sent the light of this hall out against the Nightbeasts.'

 

'When did Krulshards reach the city?' Tombel asked.

'Were we far behind him?'

 

162

 

'He was one daylight before you, hard-pressed and desperate

for victory.'

 

'We will follow the Nightmare now without rest and rescue

Martbel and Elionbel,' Tombel said, honing his sword on the

sharp stone that hung from his belt.

 

'No!' answered Nevian firmly. 'Thane is on the Nightmare'

s heels, guided by Ogion the grey swan. Your purpose is

to turn the warrior army you led to this city and hunt the

Nightbeasts through all Elundium.'

 

'But Thane is only one man. How can he destroy Krulshards?'

 

'

Who followed Krulshards into the City of Night to rescue

Thoron and bring him out into the light? Who else can face

the darkness of Krulshards?'

 

Tombel stood silently, looking down at the polished marble,

seeing clearly his weakness reflecting back.

 

'Kyot was with Thane, and Willow the Tunneller led them

both to the high chamber where I hung,' Thoron answered

quietly. 'Only they have the power to face the darkness.'

 

'But Thane is alone,' cried Tombel. 'Kyot is riding to

Clatterford to seek Fairday the Crystal Maker.'

 

Nevian smiled. 'Let them follow their fates, just as you

must follow yours. Marshal the warriors and turn the crescent

back into Elundium.'

 

A movement between the doors of the Candle Hall turned

 

 

Tombel's head and he laughed aloud. 'Willow, Willow, come

forward and meet the Master of Magic. Come and meet

Nevian.'

 

Willow shyly crossed Candlebane Hall, his eyes full of the

beautiful colours in the rainbow cloak. Kneeling at Nevian's

feet he touched the hem of the cloak and said, 'It is so much

more beautiful than the Elder's stories - the colours! The

light!'

 

Nevian reached down and took Willow's hand. 'The Elder

only saw the light of the pictures I painted in the darkness of

the City of Night, but he had a great power, for he

 

163

 

 

remembered every leaf and branch and subtle shade I showed

him, and in his turn he painted the pictures for you.'

 

'He named me after the willow tree, my Lord,' Willow

answered, looking up into the face of the magician.

 

Nevian smiled, 'And he named you well, for you will put

 

firm roots into the soil of Elundium and be a blessing to its

people.'

 

'Lord,' Willow asked, hesitating. 'Was this once a

beautiful city? Only I felt it in the bones of the land beneath

the piles of rubble as I climbed up to this

hall.'

 

'It was the jewel of Elundium, Willow, built by King

Mantern, the last Mason King before the Granite Kings

arose. But why do you ask?'

 

'We have laboured, Lord, for time beyond counting in the

darkness. Let us celebrate our freedom by rebuilding this city

out of the rubble. Let us use our skills, learned through

torture and pain, to raise the fallen Granite Tower sheer and

beautiful up into the sunlight!'

 

Thoron laughed, and Eagle Owl, who had sat silently so far

on his shoulder, hooted at the sunlight, and Tombel lifted

Willow up on to his shoulders.

 

'It will be fit for a new King, and more beautiful than

before!' Nevian cried, leading the way out into the sunlight

 

and up the winding steps to the top of the wall. .

 

'Each house and hall, each lane and winding alleyway, will

grow up out of the ruins, you have our word on it,' Willow

laughed.

 

'And you have my word that Elundium will be cleared of

Nightbeasts!' Tombel said grimly, turning towards the siege

ladder.

 

Thoron gripped Nevian's hand in parting. 'The sword is

ready and honed to a razor's edge. Eagle Owl is perched, and

eager to carry it!'

 

'Eagle Owl will hear the call,' Nevian whispered, taking the

hilt of the sword and drawing it from its sheath, 'But age has

 

164

 

weakened the blade. Look how it chips and nicks against the

granite wall.'

 

Nevian handed back the sword. 'Find DurondeD, the

Armourer, show him the blade and he will reforge it strong

enough to shatter stone.'

 

'Durondell is a legend!' Thoron answered. 'How can you

find such a thing?'

 

Nevian smiled. 'If he has become a legend you must find

the truth that the legend grew from and there have the blade

reforged. Go now with the new morning and seek the forge of

Durondell.'

 

Willow stood beside Nevian and, taking the magician's

hand, he watched the crescent of Marchers, Gallopers and

Archers slowly turn and spread out across the fields below the

city. The Warhorses and the Border Runners fanned out

beyond the furthest points of the crescent, running hard on

the Nightbeasts' heels, following them into the wildlands

where the people of Elundium seldom went.

 

Nevian sighed as if a great task had been completed and

smiled down at Willow.

 

'The future of Elundium has gone beyond my sight but

Fate will weave its webs and show us all its twists and turns in

the fullness of time. Evening Star will come to you when the

city is nearly rebuilt. She will bring her foal to the gates. Be

ready for that day; be ready to ride and take only a stone

searcher in your hand.'

 

 

'Will I ride on Evening Star?' asked Willow, looking up into

Nevian's face.

 

'She will carry you,' Nevian cried, the rainbow cloak fading

as the sun passed behind towering rain clouds, 'and she will

take you to the ends of the world!'

 

165

 

 

Doul~ts in the Fortress of Ur~derfall

 

Esteron fretted and pulled at the hay piled in the manger.

Mulcade sat statue-still upon the king post beam and watched.

Merion the Healer was fussing at the ugly wound in the

horse's side, touching the fine gold threads he had sewn

across to draw the edges together after removing the Nightbeast

spear blade.

 

'Many daylights' rest yet,' he sang in a high-pitched voice.

'But you will be as good as new.'

 

Esteron snorted, his ears flat against the sides of his head,

and struck out impatiently at the stable wall.

 

Merion turned his head, making a disapproving sound with

his tongue.

 

'Patience will heal the wound - bad manners will split it

open again!'

 

Esteron neighed, shaking his head from side to side.

 

'How long, Healer?' Thunderstone asked, opening the

stable door and giving Esteron a sugar slice he had kept. 'How

long?'

 

'Many daylights, Lord, perhaps even a season or at most a

sun. The spear blade had severed more than just flesh and the

long road back to us only worsened the wound.'

 

Thunderstone sighed, taking Esteron's head into his arms;

a season had passed already and he feared for Thane's safety

as he stood silently in the straw, worrying. His fingers moved

beneath the heavy blue cloak he wore and touched the

summer scarf, feeling the fine needlepoint Elionbel had sewn

 

166

 

,

 

i

 

.

 

 

3   i

 

'.N~

 

with silver and gold threads. The picture of the sun seemed

almost to burn the tips of his fingers. 'We will keep it safe for

his return,' he whispered, 'for it brings old legends to life.'

 

'Old legends, my Lord?' asked Merion, rummaging in his

sack for an oiled cotton to dab at the wound. Thunderstone

had forgotten Merion and his voice startled him.

 

Gruffly he answered, 'Don't you remember, old fool? The

saying, "And his standard shall light the Causeway Field and

it will be the sign of the new King".'

 

Merion smiled blankly at Thunderstone, turned and pressed

the oiled cloth to the wound.

 

'Fool!' muttered Thunderstone, leaving the stable and

climbing to the highest gallery to clean the wick in the great

lamp. Winter would soon be on them and still there was no

word. What was happening beyond the Causeway Field and

the dark trees of Mantern's Forest? What had happened to

the great army Tombel and Thoron had led towards the

Granite City? Closing the lamp he paced the gallery, watching

the shadows lengthen as the sun dropped towards World's

Edge.

 

'What news?' he shouted as he passed the watching chair.

 

'News, Lord?' answered Tiethorm, startled back to wakefulness. '

Nothing but the whisper of the wind through the

grasses of the Causeway Field and the murmur of doves on

the high roof slates. The Greenway is an empty road, my

Lord.'

 

167

 

 

aAcross the Grasslands to

Clatterford

 

Kyot followed the sun, but no matter how hard he pressed

Sprint the sun overtook him each daylight and sank in a ball of

fire beyond World's Edge.

 

At evening time Sprint slowed at a touch on the rein and

began to look for a place to rest. Kyot nocked an arrow on to

the string and slipped noiselessly from the saddle, his eyes

fixed on a grassland hare. The arrow sang, the hare twitched

and cried out just once as the steel blade struck it down.

 

'Supper!' Kyot shouted, sending the two huge Border

Runners out through the long grass to pick up the hare.

Darkness had fallen before Kyot had built a ring of dead wood

in readiness against the Nightbeasts and lit a fire in the centre

to cook his supper. Sprint stood close to the fire, his

 

saddle lying on the ground as a pillow for Kyot. .

 

'Elundium has limitless horizons,' Kyot said, pointing a

nibbled hare bone out past the watchful dogs, back from their

own hunting, into the darkness. 'No matter how far we travel the

sun still seems just as far away. I always thought that World's

Edge was just beyond the horizon, and that Clatter

 

ford would be less than a day's ride away.' ;

 

Sprint snorted, pulling at the rough grasses within their ring.

Rockspray hooted and lifted off Kyot's shoulder to hunt his

supper in the darkness beyond the firelight, while the dogs

yawned and settled down on either side of Kyot. He arranged

six arrows in a makeshift arrow stand, their points thrust lightly

into the ground a hand's reach beyond the saddle, but

 

168

 

the seventh arrow he necked on to the bow, and thus armed he

settled back, his head resting against the saddle, and tried to

sleep. Beyond the firelight the grasslands rustled in the soft

night breezes. Rockspray hooted once and was silent. Sprint

snorted and moved a pace in search of better grazing. Kyot

opened his eyes and looked up at the stars. He felt so small, so

tiny, so alone; a mere speck in the wild dark grasslands that

stretched away in every direction towards the flat black

horizon. He shivered, pulled his cloak up around his ears and

tried again to sleep but sleep would not come.

 

'We have been travelling for twenty daylights,' he sighed,

sitting up, 'and nobody can tell us where Clatterford is.' Kyot

remembered grimly how the villagers from whom he had asked

the way had closed their gates against him and how they had

thrown sharp stones to drive away the dogs. Only twice had he

been coldly welcomed inside the deep-dyked barricades and

given bad meat to eat and a rough place to sleep. 'Clatterford!'

the villagers had sneered, 'is a legend from the time of Kings

that once kept the land safe from Nightbeasts. From a time that

only old men remember, when we tilled the land and gathered

fruit without looking over our shoulders in fear. A curse on all

Kings!'

 

'There will be a new King!' he had shouted back. 'The

Nightbeast army runs before the warriors of Elundium!' But the

villagers had only laughed at him, pulling their high barricades

shut against the world they feared.

 

Sighing, Kyot sank back against the saddle and closed his

eyes. The warm smell of cured oiled leather filled his nose and

the soft sable fur of the dogs on either side finally helped him

drift off to sleep. Sprint snorted a quiet greeting to Rockspray

as the owl stooped silently down on to the high cantle of the

saddle to sit out the watches of the night.

 

Unblinking, he stared into the darkness just before the dawn

and watched a shadowy figure move towards them. Slowly he

unhooked his talons and spread his wings, his beak half open,

to call a warning, but taco eyes looked into his; dark

 

169

 

 

eyes that held the secrets of twilight, clear eyes that were

strong enough to bid him to be still and give no warning.

Sprint snorted and turned his head, letting a neigh of rage

turn to a soft whinny of greeting, the dogs looked up and

bared their teeth in silent snarls.

 

'Be still,' whispered a gentle voice. Sprint pricked his ears,

letting Eventine, the daughter of Fairday of Clatterford,

stroke his shoulder as she knelt beside Kyot and took the sixth

arrow from its place in the earth beside the saddle. Reaching

back into the quiver she replaced it with one of her own

arrows.

 

Smiling down at Kyot she whispered, 'My father is more

than just a whispered legend; and he has waited overlong for

the Archer who carries the Bow of Orm. Keep faith in your

heart and you will find us. Follow the sun to Clatterford.'

 

Kyot murmured in his sleep and turned on the hard earth.

Eventine stepped back hastily into the shadows away from the

fire's glowing embers, then sprang lightly over the ring of

kindling sticks and disappeared into the growing dawn light.

 

Kyot yawned, stretching his arms beneath the cloak and

rose stiffly to his feet. The chill dawn had coated the

grasslands with a fine layer of hoar frost and the morning was

rich with the smell of autumn. 'Beautiful! This is beautiful!'

he said, looking at the fine threaded patterns the frost had

spread on to the blades of grass, marvelling at the jewelled

lace in the spiders' webs that bent before the early breezes.

 

'We ride with the sun,, he laughed, stooping to pick up the

saddle, but instead of taking the saddle he stared foolishly at

the small footprint, slender and delicate, imprinted in the

crisp grass a hand's span from where he had slept.

 

Falling to his knees he touched the print. 'By Nevian!' he

whispered, standing and looking out beyond the kindling

wood to where other prints in the frost led in the direction

that he was about to travel. Frowning, he collected his arrows

and returned them to the quiver. The sixth felt different, the

shaft was smoother and the goose feather flight had a

 

170

 

different shape to it. Rubbing the dirt from the blade on the

edge of his cloak he gazed at a slender glass blade that burned

with a white fire, catching all the glory of the morning sun.

 

'There is magic here!' he whispered, turning the arrow

cautiously in his hand. 'I did not take this arrow from the

armoury of Stumble Hill and I did not push it into the ground

last night before I slept.' Sprint neighed and Rockspray

hooted, nodding his head backwards and forwards. Kyot

slipped the arrow into his quiver then quickly saddled and

bridled Sprint.

 

'Something must have come with the arrow in the night,' he

muttered, putting his foot into the stirrup and mounting.

'Run, Sprint, and take us away from this magic place. Run!'

 

Sprint neighed and took the bridle, cantering fast across

the grassland, following the frosty footprints. All day Kyot

rode Sprint hard, putting as many leagues as the little horse

could run between them and their last resting place. He

avoided a small cluster of houses ringed by a deep dyke,

keeping well away from their harvest fields, galloping Sprint

into a white lather until the houses had disappeared behind

them in the noonday haze and they were once more alone.

Fear had made him edgy and he jumped at shadows and

noises in the long grass, loosing two arrows foolishly at rising

skylarks. As the sun began to sink towards evening time

Sprint's head hung wearily forwards. Kyot dismounted and

took the reins over the horse's head. 'Let us find a place,

somewhere safer than last night, a ridge or a hill, somewhere

that I can defend.'

 

Rockspray lifted off his shoulder and searched far ahead,

rising up on warm draughts of evening air. Hovering, he saw

below black shapes moving through the long grasses, encircling

a small hamlet of stone houses. He shrieked a warning,

flying low across the weatherslated roofs. His cry spread panic

through the crowded streets as animals and children were

herded into safety, doors were slammed shut, bolts were shot

 

 

and windows shuttered.

 

171

 

 

The Nightbeasts broke cover. Roaring and screaming they

stormed the wattle-woven walls of defence, smashing them

down. Soon they were swarming through the streets.

 

Kyot had heard Rockspray's cry and remounted Sprint.

'Run!' he cried, 'the Nightbeasts are here before us.'

 

Riding hard through a gap in the broken wall Kyot nocked

arrow after arrow on to the string and the great Bow of Orm

sang with a clear voice in the evening light, destroying the

Nightbeasts. Again and again the Border Runners leapt at the

monsters' throats. Twice Kyot thought he heard the voice of

another bow but he had no time to look behind or to the left

or right. Before him the last three beasts towered; reaching

into the quiver his fingers closed on the strange arrow.

Aiming at the centre beast he loosed the arrow and it sang

through the air, exploding with a flash of blinding light against

the Nightbeast's chest. Kyot reached for another arrow but

before he could take aim, or the dogs tear them down, the two

other Nightbeasts had fallen with arrows in their throats. Kyot

pirouetted Sprint, searching each street; he galloped out into

the grasslands and circled the hamlet, but he was alone.

Slowly the doors opened and the villagers came forward.

 

'Who has a bow?' he shouted. 'Where is the Archer who

fought at my side?'

 

'Lord,' answered a white-haired elder, 'if the arrow heads

be made of glass then it was the Lady of Clatterford.'

 

'Lady of Clatterford?' Kyot whispered as he knelt and

examined the arrows in the fallen Nightbeasts. The blades

were smooth as ice and reflected the evening sunlight. Paling,

he slowly stood up. 'Tell me of this Lady of Clatterford.

Where may I find her?'

 

The elder spread his hands. 'Lord, she is nowhere - and

yet she is everywhere. She is the light in the morning and the

soft sun in the evening. She is beauty beyond a whisper and

she keeps us safe from the roving bands of Nightbeasts.'

 

'Rockspray warned you, and I rode to your defence,'

Kyot answered, an edge of anger in his voice. 'Where

 

172

 

is this Lady of Clatterford? Does she have a name?'

'Lord, greatly we thank you. Our lives are in the palm of

your hand. Take anything you desire. We are now yours to

clean the arrow-heads and oil the bow, but we cannot show

you the Lady of Clatterford for she is her own mistress and

she goes where she pleases.'

 

Kyot laughed, taking both the elder's hands and pulled him

to his feet. 'I want nothing but the way to Clatterford. I seek

nothing but to kneel at the feet of Fairday, the Crystal Maker.'

 

'But Lord, we owe you our lives!'

 

Kyot looked past the elder at the rough stone houses and

the mean, worn streets. 'Does the Lady of Clatterford own

this village? Are you in her keeping?'

 

'Lord, she takes nothing but the grains of corn we leave in a

dish at the village edge.'

 

'How can you offer me more than you offer the Lady of

Clatterford?' Kyot questioned.

 

'She has never stood before us, as you have, my Lord, but if

she did all she desired would be laid at her feet.'

 

'I will take nothing from you, elder, for I have seen the

beauty of Elundium and that is riches enough.'

 

Kyot gathered the reins and remounted Sprint. 'I bid you a

night free of shadows,' he cried as Sprint took the bridle and

headed out into the grasslands.

 

'Stay with us and honour our village!' cried the elder, as

Kyot, with the Border Runners on each side, passed through

the dyke.

 

'There is no time!' he shouted back. 'I must find Clatter

 

 

ford. But I will return when the Nightmare is no more.'

 

Kyot rode without ceasing until the lights of the village had

vanished far behind him. Slowing Sprint to a walk he

dismounted and found a place they could rest, a slight mound

of bare earth that rose above the grassland, surmounted by a

single gnarled hawthorn tree. Setting his remaining four

arrows, points deep, into the ground he sat and waited,

watching the darkness.

 

173

 

 

'Stay close,' he whispered to Sprint. 'Be my eyes lest I

should sleep,' he asked Rockspray, stroking the smooth brittle

horn of his talons.

 

Rockspray hooted and rumethis chest feathers as Kyot

slipped from wakefulness into sleep. Eventine smiled in the

darkness of the grasslands and silently climbed to the top of

the mound; there she knelt at Kyot's side and quickly took

two arrows from her quiver and exchanged them, pressing the

glass points firmly into the ground. Laughing to herself she

placed a small wooden bowl at his feet, filling it with a small

mound of uncooked grain.

 

'It is his share of the payment from the village,' she

whispered to Sprint, kissing the velvet-smooth skin of his

muzzle. Reaching out to the Border Runners she playfully

pulled their ears. 'Guard my Archer well, and bring him safely

to Clatterford,' she whispered before leaving as quietly as she

had arrived.

 

Kyot stretched out feeling the early warmth of the morning

sun touch his face. Opening his eyes he looked down at the

arrows he had fixed into the ground and smiled. 'You have

great magic, Lady of Clatterford.'

 

He took her arrows out of the ground and rubbed the damp

earth from their smooth glass blades. 'Magic enough to

silence even you, Rockspray, a sharp-eyed Lord of Owls, and

brave enough to risk your hooves, Sprint, and the teeth of two

savage dogs.'

 

Sprint snorted, rubbing his head against Kyot's arson, and

Rockspray ruffled his feathers and hooted quietly, his eyes

half closed. Kyot sighed, collected the other two arrows and

rose to his feet. Looking at the base of the mound he saw

small cloven hoof prints that led away into the grasslands.

 

Kneeling, he examined the prints and measured their

stride. 'She rides a great beast! Come,' he called to Sprint.

'Today we will follow the Lady of Clatterford.'

 

Sprint lifted his head, smelt the morning breeze and

 

174

 

1

1

z

 

] 1

,1 i

 

9 h~

 

snorted in alarm. Rockspray lifted from Kyot's shoulder and

shrieked a warning. Kyot turned and ran quickly to the top of

the mound. He gazed out across the grassland, shading his

eyes against the morning sunlight. 'Nigh/beasts!' he hissed,

quickly counting the line of dark shapes running towards him

as he saddled Sprint. 'Follow the lady's hoof prints!' Kyot

whispered, mounting and urging him forwards. 'We do not

have enough arrows to stand and fight.'

 

Sprint cantered down the mound, kicking over the wooden

bowl that Eventine had left. In his haste to flee from the

Nightbeasts Kyot saw the grains of wheat scatter across the

ground and laughed. 'This will be our cornfield, Lady, and we

will harvest it for the village in better times. Now, run, Sprint,

run!'

 

Sprint bounded forward, galloping hard to catch his

shadow as the grasslands swallowed them up. Only at noon

did Kyot slow the horse to a trot and stood on the saddle

looking back at the distant line of Nightbeasts He could see

that they were blind to him in the noonday glare by the way

they beat the tall grass with their spear blades and cruel

hooked scythes.

 

'We must run again,' he whispered to the Border Runners,

'but I will run beside you for as many leagues as I can, as they

are spread wide to catch us and follow close on our scent.

There is no way but forwards.'

 

Sprint neighed and waited while Kyot tied the reins in a

 

 

knot. Rockspray took to the air and stooped on the line of

Nightbeasts, tearing off two sets of wolEskin eye shields before

Kyot called him back. 'Stay with us, Lord of Owls, and fight

beside us when we can run no further. Fly ahead now and

find us a place where we can face the Nightbeasts with the

dying sun on our shoulders. A hill or a mound where Father's

bow can sing out against the darkness.'

 

Rockspray lifted silently and flew far ahead. Sprint, Kyot

and the dogs followed, running side by side, heads bent in

effort, over the rough grassland. Behind them the line of

 

175

 

 

Nightbeasts lengthened their stride and gradually, as the

afternoon wore into evening, they closed the gap between

them. Kyot could hear them now, roaring and screaming just

behind him. Sprint flattened his ears and rolled his eyes in

fear, the dogs turned, hackles up, ready to fight. Rockspray

stooped out of the late afternoon sky to the cantle of the

saddle, hooting about the place that he had found.

 

'Follow, follow,' he shrieked, rising up and hovering just

above Kyot's head. Kyot looked up and saw through the long

grasses a long low mound of bare-trodden earth. Running to

the base of the mound he reached back into his quiver and

nocked one of the Lady's arrows on to his bow. Six laboured

strides took him to the top and there he stopped, the arrow

resting lightly against the bow, and stared with wide eyes at

the neat rows of arrows, ready-pressed into the earth to form

a makeshift arrows stand.

 

'The Lady of Clatterford is with us!' he cried, taking arrow

after arrow from the stand and loosing them into the advancing

line of Nightbeasts.

 

Rockspray stooped at their eyes, ripping and tearing at their

wolLskin shields, the dogs leapt at the Nightbeasts' throats,

tearing them down and Sprint turned, rearing and plunging

through the broken enemy line.

 

Behind them, beyond the mound, a shadow crossed the low

evening sun, making Kyot pause and turn his head. Laughing,

he raised his bow hand in salute.

 

'I thank you, Lady of Clatterford,' he cried, watching for a

moment as the mighty stag she rode halted and lifted its

crown of sweeping antlers up towards the first evening stars. 'I

thank you, Lady!' he cried again, looking at the slender figure

in the flowing cloak that held a bow as large as the great Bow

of Orm.

 

'Follow me to Clatterford!' she called in a voice that cut

through the Nightbeasts' screams. 'Follow me when the last

arrow has found its mark!' She urged her mount forward and

vanished amongst the tall grasses.

 

176

 

l

 

Rockspray stooped roughly to Kyot's shoulder and dug his

sticky blood-soaked talons through his cloak, shrieking a

warning that the last swarm of Nightbeasts were crouching at

the base of the mound. Kyot shook his head, scattering the

memory of Eventine's beauty, and set about destroying the

remaining Nightbeasts. He could smell their foul odour and

see the scales of their armour rattling and swaying as they

breasted the mound. He loosed arrow after arrow until only

one beast was still rushing forward. Taking the last glass

arrow he knelt and released it, turning his head from the

blinding flash of light as the blade sheared through the

armoured scales, shattering the breastbone.

 

'Die, Nightbeast!' he shouted as the arrow strike forced the

beast backwards, tumbling it to the bottom of the mound.

Kyot rose slowly from his knees and looked out across the

heaps of Nightbeast dead into the silent empty twilight. 'We

have won!' he whispered to Rockspray, ruffling the owl's

chest feathers. Sprint snorted, the dogs barked as they picked

their way through the Nightbeast carcasses and wearily

climbed the mound.

 

'We will follow the Lady!' he laughed, clipping the Bow of

Orm on to the saddle, and led Sprint down off the mound in

the direction she had taken.

 

Midnight slipped by unmarked before the Border Runners

led Kyot and Sprint through the edge of the grasslands and

passed unheralded into Clatterford. Kyot yawned and stopped,

sniffing at the night air; kneeling he touched the ground,

feeling the difference in the length and texture of the grass.

'Hush!' he whispered, putting his finger to his lips and

listening to the night.

 

Rising to his feet he looked across a rolling moonlit

landscape that stretched away to a dark horizon of tall trees.

'This must be Clatterford. Smell the new-mown grass and

 

 

listen to the Nightingales.'

 

Turning his head he heard the noise of shallow water

 

177

 

 

rushing over gravel. 'There must be a stream close by. Come,

we will find it and rest there until the new sun rises.'

 

Sprint nickered and trotted off into the darkness. Kyot

wearily followed the noise of the stream, which grew louder

with each step he took, until he came to the bank. He slipped

down and drank deeply, splashing the crystal-cold water on to

his face and hands. It tasted better than the wine of Stumble

Hill and slightly sweeter on his tongue. Smiling, he dried his

hands and settled back against the bank. Thinking of the

Lady's beautiful face silhouetted against the setting sun he fell

into a trouble-free sleep.

 

After sunrise Sprint roughly woke him by snorting fiercely

into his face, Rockspray perched at his side, preening his

feathers. Sitting up, Kyot stretched, yawned, then quickly

dropped his arms to his sides and scrambled to his feet. 'We

are at Clatterford!' he hissed, brushing his fingers through his

hair and trying to straighten his travel-stained jerkin and

cloak.

 

'Welcome to Clatterford!' called out a voice from beyond

the stream.

 

Kyot looked out across the stream towards a hall of glowing

crystal set amongst neat lawns and flowered walkways. Brightcoloured

peacocks strutted on the lawns, and between the

flowers that swept down in neat rows to the water's edge and

filled the morning with a heavy scent. Upon the first step of

the Hall of Clatterford stood a tall, white-haired figure

dressed in robes of pale sky-washed blue.

 

'Welcome,' he called again, beckoning to Kyot to come

across the stream to the hall. 'There is a ford,' he said,

pointing away to Kyot's left.

 

Kyot followed the stream and turned down an avenue of tall

yew trees; he came to the ford and heard a roar and thunder

of two waterfalls that guarded the dark entrance to the lawns.

Covering his ears against the noise he- crossed, nimbly

jumping from stone to stone, and stepped up on to the

close-mown grass. The peacocks shrieked in warning and,

 

178

 

shaking out their feathers into brilliant glowing patterns, they

watched his every step as they flanked him in escort to the

doors of Clatterford.

 

Kyot reached out a hand and touched the wall beside the

doors, running his fingertips across the smooth transparent

crystal. He bent down and stared in wonder at the glass,

forgetting the impatient peacocks on either side and Fairday,

the Master of Clatterford, waiting a few paces further on.

 

A hand on his shoulder made him jump and turn in

confusion to face his journey's end. 'Lord,' he cried, falling

on to his knees. 'My father bid me bring you grave news. I was

to tell you that the Nightmare, Krulshards, is once more loose

in Elundium and that I need new arrow-heads to pierce the

darkness.'

 

Fairday smiled down at Kyot and reaching out, he took

hold of his hands and turned them over. 'You have the hands

of an Archer and, I am sure, the heart to match them. But why

do you seek these arrow blades?'

 

Kyot looked up, his eyes clouding with anger. 'The

Nightmare tortured my father to death and took his hands. I

seek the Nightbeast, Krulshards, in revenge.'

 

Fairday laughed with a sound of silver touching crystal and

pulled Kyot to his feet. 'There are no glass arrows for

revenge. Steel is a better blade for that. Steel is hard, cold and

unfeeling.'

 

'Steel will not enter the malice the Nightmare wears, only

light trapped in the glass can harm him. Nevian taught me

that on the night my father died.'

 

Fairday turned and took Kyot's hand and led him into the

gardens. 'I would load your quiver to overflowing to fight

against the Nightmare but not one spine or blade will I give

you to use in revenge.' Stopping, he turned sharply and

 

 

looked deeply into Kyot's eyes. 'Archer does not want your

revenge. He would curse you for it. He chose to stand against

the Nightmare and keep pure his pledge. He sent you to carry

his burden, not to add to it.'

 

179

 

 

Kyot frowned. 'What was his burden?'

 

'To guard the daylight, thatwas his burden, just as itwas every

Wayhouse Keeper's task. But the Tower on Stumble Hill stands

at the great crossroads and is the first Wayhouse against the

darkness, chat is why Nevian gave your father the Bow of Orm

and one quiver of glass-bladed arrows from my forge. Now all

the arrows are spent, chat is why your father sent you, full grown,

to stand in his place, clear-eyed against the darkness. He would

not have wanted this revenge chat you carry.'

 

Fairday laughed. 'Come, my young warrior. Eat, drink and

rest away your troubles. We will talk more on this at supper

time and clear your heart for the task ahead.'

 

He clapped his hands and summoned the white-robed

servers out on to the lawn. 'Tend to your guest,' he commanded. '

Give him everything he desires for he is Kyotorm, the

new Keeper of the Tower at Stumble Hill.'

 

Kyot turned and stared at the Crystal Maker. 'How do you

know my name and where I come from?'

 

Fairday smiled, 'It was foretold long ago chat the Bow of

Orm would one daylight come to Clatterford and long have I

waited. The Nightmare thought he took the hands of the

greatest Archer in all Elundium, but malice and hatred

blinded his purpose. Kyot, you are the best Archer in all

Elundium, full grown beyond your father's power, and I knew

you long before you crossed into Clatterford. With the first

rumour of Nightbeasts abroad the watchers have brought me

much news.'

 

'So you knew of my journey and still you let me wander

helplessly in the grasslands?' whispered Kyot.

 

Fairday smiled, looking past Kyot to a slender figure that

stood, cloak-wrapped, between the flowered walkways. Raising

his arm the Crystal Maker gendy turned Kyot round.

'Eventine, my daughter. She has watched over your long

journey and brought me news of your coming. You wandered

no further than to lay a crooked path should the Nightbeasts

follow you.'

 

180

 

'Eventine!' Kyot whispered, dazzled by her beauty. Crossing

the lawn to her he said, 'Twice you saved my life from the

Nightbeasts and I thank you for it.' Taking her hands into his

he kissed them, feeling her cool slender fingers against his

lips.

 

Frowning, she pulled away from him and stood a moment,

her eyelashes fluttering against her tanned cheeks. 'There is

darkness in your heart, Kyot, a hatred chat feeds on revenge.

It is a shadow chat comes between us.'

 

'But Eventine,' he cried, looking into her gentle eyes, 'I owe

you my life, surely I can thank you for chat?'

 

'You owe me nothing, Prince of Archers,' she whispered,

shaking her head, making her hair shimmer with the colour of

fire-burned gold. 'All I did was to strengthen your resolve to

find us.'

 

'I have found more than just Clatterford,' he answered,

blushing at his own forwardness.

 

Eventine smiled, holding his gaze for a second before she

turned and ran quickly into the Crystal Hall. Fairday smiled

silendy, watching Kyot follow Eventine with his eyes until she

had vanished out of sight. 'A daughter is a rare treasure,' he

said quiedy, guiding Kyot into the care of the servers. 'Be

rested and refreshed, young man, we will meet again at

supper time.' Gathering his sky-washed robe across his arm

Fairday left the lawns to the strutting peacocks and entered

the long forging hall, pulling the glass doors shut behind him.

 

'Glassmakers!' he called above the muted roar of the

furnaces. 'Come to my moulding chair and listen, for I have

grave news to tell. News of Krulshards, chat Master of

Nightmares, who is loose once more in Elundium.'

 

'Then the news of the Nightbeasts is not just gossip!'

 

 

gasped Tyadall, the vase master, dropping his blowpipes on to

the veined marble floor.

 

'The time has come,' Fairday shouted, rising up out of his

moulding chair. 'The time has come to forge new arrowheads

 

against the darkness and rekindle our lost skills to trap a ray of

 

181

 

 

sunlight in each blade. See to the forges and fan them white

hot to mirror the centre of the sun.'

 

'What of the crystal bowls, the plates and the window

panes?' asked Tyadall, waving a goatskin sheet of demands.

 

'And the fluted flower vases and trinkets?' asked another

glass maker.

 

Fairday scowled, drawing his bushy white eyebrows fiercely

together. He reached out and snatched the demands from

Tyadall and threw them into the forge. 'Elundium will have

no use for bowl or crystal glass to keep out the cold if the

Nightmare is not destroyed. Clean down the anvils and set

them in the waters of the ford; polish the brass hammers and

the silver blowpipes. Be ready when the new sun rises!'

 

182

 

The Secret Road

 

King Holbian sighed and sat down, resting his aching back

against the black tunnel wall. 'How long, Breakmaster?' he

asked, feeding a few grains of corn to Beacon Light. 'How

long have we been in the darkness?'

 

Breakmaster moved close to the King, following the musical

whispers of the steelsilver coat. 'I have lost count, my Lord,

but we must be many leagues away from the Granite

City.'

 

'Has there been any sign of the Chancellors or my

treacherous warriors?' the King asked.

 

'Lord,' replied the horseman, 'Grey Goose leads the way

and he has found us much to eat that the Chancellors have

discarded. They were careless in their haste to flee the ruined

city and I doubt if they know we have followed them.'

 

'They shall pay for their treachery, mark these words and

remember them, Breakmaster. They stole the last few moments

of the Granite Kings and I set a high price on the

daylight that we lost.'

 

King Holbian fell silent then slowly climbed to his feet and

moved forwards again, a hand stretched out against the rough

rock wall to guide him. For many leagues the secret road that

led out of the Granite City had wound downwards, following

a hidden fault through the bones of Elundium, twisting and

turning before it turned to the north and passed in a straight

line under the roots of the Black Forest. Far ahead of the

King Grey Goose could hear the sound of the Chancellors

 

183

 

 

and lifted his hand to halt the column of city folk that followed

him.

 

'Put out the sparks, and snuff the candles,' he whispered.

'Send for the King and ask him to come forward.' Grey

Goose seeded back to wait for the King, counting the arrows

that remained in his quiver.

 

The sound of the steelsilver coat brought Grey Goose to

his feet. 'Lord, the Chancellors and the Marchers are before

us, I cannot tell how far, perhaps a league or maybe two, but

they are shouting and arguing, ignorant that we follow.'

 

'What do they say?' asked Holbian.

 

Grey Goose hesitated, looking down at the ground.

 

'Speak plainly, Captain, for I hold you as a true friend.'

 

'They call you a fool, my Lord, and a weak shadow of a

King, easily deceived, who walks in fear of the darkness.'

 

'Was that all they said?' asked King 11olbian, after a long

silence.

 

'Proudpurse's voice was the loudest and he scorned your

fears saying that since they had trapped you in the Granite

City they should deliver you up to the Nightbeasts for a dozen

barrels of wax.'

 

King Holbian laughed, bitterly, without humour. 'Well, my

last two Captains, what say you? Am I worth as much here,

alone and an easy victim in this darkness? What say you to the

Chancellors' twisted tongues?'

 

Grey Goose laughed, taking the King's hand. 'You are

here, my Lord, without a spark to light the way, hot on the

Chancellors' heels. I can hear your power through the music

of your cloak and I know the Chancellors and the warrior

traitors will be made to bite their twisted tongues and eat

every treacherous word they have uttered.'

 

'But,' muttered the King, thinking aloud, 'how can we

challenge them? We are only three.'

 

'We will walk in their shadows,' whispered Breakmaster,

'and await an opportunity.'

 

'We will be ready, my Lord,' added Grey Goose.

 

184

 

Holbian smiled, 'Here I stand, a light, wasted King, with

just two friends, and we talk of victory. How many arrows

have you, Archer, or fierce Marchers to marshal?'

 

'It is not the number, my Lord, but the heart and the eye

that aims the bow. That is where victory lies.'

 

'Who taught you that, Captain?' asked the King, reaching

out and taking Grey Goose's bow hand.

 

'The greatest Archer in all Elundium, my Lord. Archerorm,

the Keeper of Stumble Hill.'

 

'Then lead us forward, brave Captain, with his wisdom in

our hearts; but tread with cautious stealth and keep a good

distance behind the traitors. Remember we will choose the

moment, not them. Now lead on!'

 

Grey Goose turned, reaching out into the darkness for the

rough rock wall and moved forward. Breakmaster held back.

 

'The horses' hooves will echo on the rock floor, my Lord. I

must muffle them before we follow.'

 

Moving amongst the city dwellers huddled against the wall

Breakmaster found what he sought and returned to the King

triumphantly holding up a dozen coarse Hessian sacks and

leather binding thongs. Picking up each hoof in turn he tied

the heavy sacks over their iron shoes.

 

'Now we can follow with less than a whisper in Grey

Goose's quiet footsteps,' he laughed, leading both horses

 

 

forward, one at either shoulder.

 

King Holbian took Beacon Light's reins from the horsemaster'

s hand and followed in his footsteps. Slowly, one by

one, the city dwellers overtook the King for he walked lost in

the music of his steelsilver coat, re-living summers he had too

easily squandered before the Nightbeasts arose.

 

'Move along,' growled a voice, breaking through the music

of the coat to the left of the King. A ragged figure was pushed,

stumbling forward, tripping over and spilling a meagre bundle

of possessions at Beacon Light's hooves. Holbian turned his

head irritably towards the scuffle and gripped the collar of the

figure that had done the pushing.

 

185

 

 

a'Who dares to harass my people?' he hissed.

 

'We are falling behind, my Lord. The old woman was slowing

our pace.'

 

'Quiet, fool,' snapped the King, bending to help the old

woman to her feet.

 

'Lord, you are a great King, who cares as the shepherd does

for his flock, no matter how weak they are,' she sighed.

 

King Holbian laughed and then frowned. There was

something in the voice he recognised, a tone that he had heard

somewhere before. 'What is your name, old woman?' he asked,

staring at her through the darkness.

 

'Angishand, my Lord, the Candleman's wife.'

 

'Ironhand,' whispered the King, gripping her hands tightly,

and remembering how the Candleman had, for all his

simplemindedness, been his first true friend against the

darkness. 'You should be carried in honour, Angishand, for if

fate had treated us better you would have been the mother of

Kings, the handmaiden of greatness.'

 

Smiling sadly, he lifted her, bird-light and frail as she was,

and set her side-saddle on Beacon Light's back. 'Ride beside

me, lady of Elundium, and share my dark hours for this is all we

have, all that is left.'

 

Before Angis could answer Holbian had knelt and scooped

up her bundle of belongings and thrust them into the hands

that had pushed her on to her knees. 'Guard these treasures

well,' he commanded, taking the reins and leading Beacon Light

forwards.

 

Looking up into Angishand's face he smiled. 'We will talk of

things to come; of the daylight at the end of the road and of

your son, Thanehand, who took a darker road than this to try

and save the daylight. There was a moment when I thought he

might have the power to be a King, but now there is nothing left

to rule.'

 

'Lord, is he dead?' she whispered, her eyes misting with i tears.

 

186

 

~ in

 

'Do you have the second sight?' asked the King, fear filling

his voice.

 

'No, Lord, I was only the weaver, the threadlady of the great

Granite Hall, and my life was spent repairing the emblems of

Elundium, painting in new colours where they had faded with

age or neatening ragged endings, binding them bright with fine

gold thread.'

 

King Holbian sighed with relief. 'Your son may live yet.

Thanehand may still be growing strong at Underfall. We must

not give up hope no matter how dark the road becomes.'

 

'He took nothing, Lord, save a summer scarf I had woven

from the spare ends of emblem thread. I fear that he was so ill

prepared he must have perished in that first winter's snow.'

 

'Emblem thread!' cried the King, turning sharply and setting

the steelsilver coat rattling in the darkness.

 

'Lord,' Angis whispered, shrinking back away from the King.

'I did not steal the threads, they were rag ends only fit for

burning.'

 

'No, no, I care nothing for what you took, but what pictures

did you weave? What was upon that scarf? Tell me, tell me!!'

cried the King, his heart racing with excitement as he tried to

remember Nevian's prophecies. There had been words about a

standard, that he was sure.

 

'It was a picture of the sun, my Lord, a summer sun in a blue

sky.'

 

'Did you edge it with blue and silver?' persisted the King.

'Was it like the royal standards that hung in the Towers of

 

 

Granite?'

 

'Oh no, my Lord, that would have been far too grand for the

likes of a Candleman's wife. People would have laughed at me

or stolen it to exchange for tallow or other treasure of the light.

It was a simple picture of the sun.'

 

'There must have been an owl in blue and gold somewhere in

the picture,' persisted the King. 'What size was the scarf?'

 

Angis smiled, remembering her last few moments with Thane

before he started his dangerous journey into exile.

 

187

 

 

'No, my Lord, it was a summer sun and in my hands it was

nothing more than a scarf, but the moment Thane took it, it

seemed to change in shape and size and yet it passed easily

into his pocket.'

 

'Did it burn or shine with light?' pressed the King.

 

Angis frowned and then slowly nodded. 'The picture did

seem to come alive as Thane touched it.'

 

King Holbian laughed, his heart lighter than it had been for

many daylights. There was still room for hope, even here in

this dark hole beneath the ground, and he forged ahead to

come to Breakmaster and Grey Goose in heated argument.

 

'The road divides here, my Lord,' Breakmaster said, as the

King drew level.

 

'Can you tell which way the Chancellors chose?' asked

Holbian, searching in his pocket for a spark.

 

'They took the left-hand road,' Grey Goose replied in the

fierce light of the spark.

 

'That is our road then. We must follow them,' commanded

the King.

 

'What is that?' asked Angis, pointing up into the roof of the

secret road. Taking the King's spark she reached up into the

roof, moving her hand backwards and forwards.

 

'It is roots,' laughed Breakmaster, 'the roots of a giant tree.

Look, they arch the road in both directions. We must be

passing beneath a great forest.'

 

With the extinguished spark safely back inside his pocket

King Holbian moved on. He felt warm inside the steelsilver

coat but a chill wind now blew against his face and far ahead

he could hear a roaring noise and he shivered, fearing what

might lie across their path.

 

188

 

~ .

 

Swanwater

 

Ogion looked across the darkening landscape, searching for a

place to rest. Far behind on a broken ridge the horsemen had

slowed to a walk.

 

'Rest, rest,' he hissed, descending towards a grey stretch of

marshland water. Fanning his wings he touched the lake and

ploughed up a white crested wave, sending small ripples

through the tall black-flecked bullrushes. One by one the grey

swans followed Ogion down and landed on the lake.

 

Thane saw the sun reflected in the ripples from the swans

which spread across the lake and he dismounted. Yawning he

led Stumble down through jagged thorn bushes to the water's

edge and began cutting branches for a fire.

 

'No fire!' Ogion hissed, wading ashore and knocking the

bundle of wood roughly out of Thane's arms. 'The Nightmare

has set many Nightbeast watchers. No fire.'

 

Thane shivered, wrapping the ragged half-cloak tightly

around his shoulders, and sat down on the cold damp marshy

earth. He had lost count of the daylights and half daylights

they had followed the Nightmare, cantering and galloping

whenever they could to keep pace with the swans, never

daring to rest while the great birds were in the sky. 'Elionbel,'

he whispered, looking into Ogion's eyes.

 

Ogion turned his long neck and brushed beaks in greeting

with Ousious, his life mate, as she left the lake. Turning back

to Thane he hissed, 'She runs at the Nightmare's heels,

cruelly driven by the one-clawed beast. She is proud and

 

189

 

 

bitter with hatred and suffers each daylight for her pride.'

 

'And Martbel, her mother?' Thane whispered, his eyes

haunted with dread.

 

'She runs,' Ogion hissed, turning away to seek a safe place

on the bank for the night ahead.

 

Ousious paused before Thane, looking deeply into his eyes,

seeing the power of his love for the Nightmare's prisoner.

'How will you rescue her?' she asked, rubbing her beak

against Thane's arm.

 

Thane looked up, a smile touching the corners of his i

mouth. 'I had not thought. I only live to catch the Nightmare.

I must do that first, but when he stands before me I shall find

a way.'

 

'They are tied by the Nightmare's life thread,' Ogion

hissed, returning to the bank and roughly pushing Thane

away from Ousious. 'There is no way you can sever that

thread, foolish man. Keep your distance, stay clear of my

swans. I only pledged to lead you at your peril, not to befriend

you.'

 

Thane moved away and sat down beside Stumble, huddling

against him for warmth. In the growing darkness he gripped

the hilt of his dagger from inside his cloak. 'Give me courage,

he whispered, falling asleep.

 

Near the water's edge the swans settled close to on.

another, whispering late into the night. Ogion sat alone, hi

hard eyes watchful and alert, his long neck casting a shar

black shadow across the bank. Slowly his head sank back an'

his eyelids closed.

 

Crack! Snap! Faint noises in the undergrowth woke Stum

ble. Snorting, he nudged Thane awake. Blinking his sleet

away Thane drew the dagger and turned his head towards the

noise. Two Nightbeasts were silhouetted against the starligh

on the top of the bank. Thane guessed they were swan

hunting by the nets and three-pronged spears they carried

Slowly he rose into a crouch, the dagger ready in his rig}

hand. The Nightbeasts had crept down the bank and wer

 

190

 

:

 

<:

 

almost level with him. Stumble flattened his ears, curled back

his lips and sank noiselessly on to his hocks. The Nightbeasts

had raised their spears to strike.

 

'Now!' Thane shouted, leaping forward, plunging the

dagger hilt deep up beneath the nearest beast's outstretched

arm.

 

Stumble reared up and smashed both forelegs against the

other Nightbeast's iron cap, crushing his skull down into his

chest. The grey swans hissed and flapped in alarm, running

across the bank, fleeing into the water and surging out into

the lake. Only Ogion turned, head outstretched, and tore at

the lifeless Nightbeasts. Thane wiped the dagger on the bank

and returned it to his belt. Stumble snorted, arching his neck

with pride. Turning, they both returned to their place on the

edge of the clearing.

 

Ogion hissed and spread his wings

 

'I misjudged you,

l nanenana, and aounTea wny you carried that blade.'

 

Thane drew the dagger and placed it on the ground at

Ogion's webbed feet. 'This blade was forged to cut through

Nightbeast armour. It was hammered out by Durondell, the

Armourer. I could not, nor would I wish to, harm one soft

downy feather on your chest.'

 

'The Magician said you would protect us. He foresaw this

night.'

 

'Nevian is the Master of Magic. He sees everything,'

 

 

Thane replied, returning the dagger to his belt.

 

Ogion stared steadily at Thane, his dark eyes shining in the

starlight, before bending his neck to preen his chest feathers.

One by one the grey swans returned to the bank and settled

less than a neck's distance from the water's edge to sleep. 'Sit

with us,' Ogion commanded, pointing with his beak to a clear

space in the centre of the swans. 'You have shown great

bravery and have earned a place among us.'

 

Thane settled inside the cluster of swans and, sheltered by

their warm feathers, fell easily into sleep. Stumble stood close

by cropping at the short, bitter lakeside grasses. He could

 

191

 

 

sense the changing weather and turned his quarters against

the bitter wind that had begun to blow, before the grey hours

brought the next daylight.

 

Thane woke to see a layer of hoar frost on the folds of his

cloak and rose, shivering, to his feet.

 

Ogion stood at the water's edge, staring out across the lake

towards the broken hills that showed in the distance. 'He has

run before us in the darkness. The Nightmare has turned

beyond the edge of the grasslands into a place of deserts and

broken rocks. Hurry or we will lose him.'

 

Thane quickly saddled Stumble and cantered him along

the bank towards the far end of the lake. Ogion flew low over

his head before he lifted away towards the broken line of hills.

 

By noontime the sky had darkened and ice-cold rain had

begun to fall. Thane dismounted as Stumble floundered on

the slippery ground and led him forwards, hunching his

shoulders against the weather. 'We will keep on for that gap in

the hills,' he shouted, against the dull roar of the rain as it

worsened, misting the horizon and filling the gullies they were

climbing with racing muddy streams.

 

The cloak kept out the worst of the rain, but the flooded

gullies soon filled Thane's ruined boots with cold muddy

water. The downpour matted his straw-coloured hair and

trickled into his eyes in stinging drops. The cold numbed his

fingers and burned into his knuckles as he scrambled forwards

over the rough, rising ground towards the gap he knew

must lie ahead. The higher they climbed the colder it became;

driving sleet stung their faces and covered Thane's shoulders

and Stumble's quarters with a grey layer of wet ice. Soaked

through and shivering they eventually reached the gap in the

hills and looked out in despair across a bleak tumble of rocks,;

grey-white under ice and snow, that stretched away to a black

horizon. -d

 

'Thanehand! Thanehand!' Ogion called in a musical voiced

flying in a wide searching circle over the line of the hills

 

192

 

Thane heard the swans call and climbed as high as he could,

waving and shouting at the low snow-filled clouds until Ogion

saw him and swooped over his head.

 

'We are lost!' Thane shouted, rubbing the sleet out of his

eyes.

 

'Follow the hills, Thanehand, and do not stray into the ice

fields. Follow the hills until you reach Swanwater.'

 

Moving as fast as they could Thane and Stumble descended

from the hills following the grey swans, but darkness

overtook them, covering their path and they wandered down,

unaware that they had strayed into the edge of an ice field.

'Stop!' Thane cried, pulling hard on the reins.

 

The ground beneath their feet had begun to shift, faintly

creaking and groaning. Stumble neighed and moved backwards

onto higher ground. Thane followed him, jumping to

safety just before the ice field opened, gushing up in a

fountain of black water. Climbing further away from the ice

field Thane shouted into the darkness. 'We are lost, Ogion,

and cannot find Swanwater.'

 

Stumble snorted and began to scrape at the light covering

of ice and snow, trying to trample a place to weather out the

night. Thane put a hand on the little horse's shoulder and bid

him be still. 'Listen!' he whispered, straining his ears at the

snow-silence. 'Listen.'

 

Far ahead a single cry, musical and piercing, cut through

the darkness; moments later another cry echoed the first.

Then another and another. 'The swans are calling us,' Thane

laughed, blowing on his fingers to warm them up. 'Come,

Stumble, keep to the high ground and follow the music.'

 

Moving slowly forwards from ridge to ridge they heard the

swans' voices grow louder and louder until Thane had to

cover his ears to mute their calls. Suddenly the singing

stopped and Ogion waddled out of the darkness to greet

 

 

them, filling the silence with his strong voice. 'Come,

Thanehand, come into the flock gathering and rest, for here

on Swanwater you are safe from the Nightbeasts.'

 

193

 

 

'What of Elionbel?' Thane asked, stumbling forwards on to

the flat pebble-strewn beach, dense with the long-necked

shapes of the swans. 'Where is the Nightmare?'

 

Ogion hissed, stretching his neck, 'He has gone, Thane,

through the ice field beyond my sight. He travelled far while

we slept and has taken a path that we cannot follow.'

 

'But we must follow them!' Thane cried, turning towards

the ice field.

 

'No, you cannot! The ice field will swallow you, it is a

treacherous place where you cannot travel. One step inside

and you would vanish without a trace.'

 

'Then I have lost everything,' Thane whispered, sinking on;

to his knees. Bowing his head he wept, oblivious to the biting

cold, deaf to the soft sad music of the swans, blind, wrapped

in a black mantle of despair.

 

Ousious came silently to his side, covered him with her soft

downy feathers and heard every despair-filled word of his love

for Elionbel; of their first meeting in the ring of hawthorn

trees when he had rescued her, through his wintering at her

father's house when their love had grown and flourished only

to be cruelly trimmed by her father's anger.

 

'I am not bloodworthy of her,' he whispered over and over,

screwing the edge of his ragged cloak in his hands.

 

Ousious left Thane as the first light of morning touched the

smooth surface of Swanwater. She slipped quietly into the

water and swam out through the fingers of still early mist far

beyond the last sleeping swans. 'I will find her, Thane,' she

whispered, stretching her neck and spreading her wings. 'I

will tell her of your search.'

 

Her wings beat against the surface of the lake and she

gathered speed and rose into the air. 'I will find your Elionbel,

for you are lovematched forever.'

 

194

 

.

 

~,

.-    ~

 

The Nightmare Vanishes

 

Krulshards spat at the ground and pulled the malice up

around his shoulders. 'They still follow us!' he shouted,

pointing with a bone black finger at the line of swans

silhouetted by the dying sun. Elionbel stole a glance at the

horizon and saw the swans. Secretly her heart beat faster.

Perhaps they were marking the Nightmare's path for Thane.

Krulshards laughed, roughly pulling on the life thread and

breaking into her thoughts. 'They are grey swans - bearers of

ill omens, carriers of the Buryman's list. They foretell your

fate, Elionbel, Marcherspawn!'

 

Elionbel turned her head and looked steadily into the

Nightmare's face, past the loops of hanging rotten flesh and

the dead locks of wasted hair that swung as forgotten flags in

the cold evening air. 'I do not fear you!' she hissed, staring

into his eyes. 'My hate makes me strong and gives me power.

Each morning as the first ray of sunlight shows above World's

Edge I eat the hate and drink from its cup, and one daylight I

will be stronger than you and then I shall tear this life thread

out of your black heart and strangle you with it!'

 

Krulshards laughed, pushing Elionbel on to her knees.

'Strong!' he sneered. 'Powerful!' he mocked. Reaching out he

put his hands around her wasted arms. 'You are barely flesh

and bones, Marcherwoman, not even worthy as a decent

meal!'

 

Laughing, he cast her aside and beckoned Kerzolde to

come forwards. 'Send two Nightbeasts to hunt down the

 

195

 

 

swans. I fear they are waymarking our path. Bring us swan

meat, kill every one of them. The Marcher women have little

appetite for our tastier dishes; perhaps they will enjoy swans.'

 

Elionbel's stomach tightened and turned at the mention of

food. She dreaded the foul maggot-strewn flesh they forced

on her at the beginning of each daylight, but to eat swan mea

was somehow worse. They were such beautiful creatures,

strong and yet gentle, and she had always imagined she could

hear something in their music, not words but voices, perhaps

the voices of the dead seeking a place to rest. She turned

angrily on the Nightmare but Martbel stopped her with a firm

hand on her arm.

 

'Quiet, daughter,' she whispered, pulling Elionbel down 0

to the ground beside her. There were tears in Martbel's eyes

and her shoulders shook with little uncontrollable movements

 

as she wept.

 

'What is it, Mother?' Elionbel asked in hushed tones

 

wrapping her arms around her mother's shoulders.

 

Between her sobs Martbel whispered into Elionbel's ear

'The Nightmare raped me on the top of the wall when h

dragged me inside the malice.'

 

'I know, Mother!' Elionbel hissed, gripping her hand an

squeezing it tight. 'And one daylight he will pay dearly for it.

 

'But worse than that,' continued Martbel, 'his seed is

growing inside me; it is tearing and gnawing at me, feeding o

me. Oh, what am I to do?'

 

Elionbel stared at the hood of the malice, her head

pounding with hatred, her eyes glittering with rage. Slowl'

her hand sought amongst the secret folds of her skirt an

found the cold brass handle of a dagger that she had kept we

hidden. 'I will kill him,' she muttered, closing her fingen

around the hilt.

 

'No, No!' cried Martbel, taking Elionbel's hand away frog

the dagger. 'Keep the blade a secret and use it to kill the

Nightmare's seed the moment it is born. It must not survey

and grow for I fear it will have uncontrollable power am

 

196

 

~ .

 

~ 1

~ 1

 

spread a terrible shadow across Elundium. Promise me that

you will kill it. Promise me!'

 

'I will kill it. I promise!' Elionbel replied, taking her mother

back into her arms and rocking her gently backwards and

forwards. 'I will destroy the Nightmare's bastard before it

takes its first breath.'

 

Krulshards pulled the hood of the malice down over his

face and laughed, gloating in the darkness. He had heard

every word and whisper through the life thread, and now sat

wondering at the power he had created through raping the

Marcherwoman, searching amongst all the Nightbeasts and

Nightshades he had ever spawned for a parallel, but there was

none. Nothing he had hatched in the darkness could have

carried his seed out into Elundium. Nothing he had made

before was both light and dark. Bending his finger he

summoned Kerzolde to him and pulled him into the malice,

wrapping it tightly around them both.

 

'The Marcherwoman, Martbel, carries my seed. What does

that mean? How will she spawn it?' he asked.

 

Kerzolde thought for a moment, a cruel leer splitting his

hideous face. 'She will give birth to a child, Master. It is the

way the people of Elundium spawn. It will be a part of both of

you, but since you are the Lord of Darkness she will carry the

strength and power of your image in her belly.'

 

'My image!' he whispered. 'That would think as I do and

 

 

hold all I hold as beautiful. That would spread my darkness

throughout Elundium!'

 

'Yes, Master. It is already a part of you. It is your seed!'

 

Krulshards laughed, suddenly realizing a part of the power

that he had created. Gripping Kerzolde in tight fingers he

hissed, 'Guard my seed, and keep sharp eyes on the other

woman. She has a blade hidden in the folds of her skirt. Let

her keep the blade and give her no warning that we know that

she wishes to kill my seed.'

 

'Master, she is a great danger. Let me kill her now!'

 

'No!' hissed the Nightmare. 'She is payment against

 

197

 

 

Thanehand and she must hang in the City of Night. Snatch

my seed the moment it is born and kill the Marcherwoman,

Martbel. She has pledged to kill my seed and will be a greater

danger.'

 

'Master,' Kerzolde answered, 'the newborn Lord of Night

will need its mother's milk for nourishment. It is the custom

for the people of Elundium for they are weak born and

helpless and need time to grow strong.'

 

Krulshards laughed, 'Nightbeasts are hatched and battleready

before the new sun rises. Even Nightshards are only a

few daylights in the making, but take the newborn seed from

the Marcherwoman and keep it safe. Let her feed it until it is

strong enough to stand alone, bind her if necessary, then you

must kill her!'

 

'It will mean many daylights of careful watching.'

 

'Then watch carefully, Captainbeast!' Krulshards snarled,

'and let not the Elionbel near my seed. Its life is your life, its

death will be your despair.'

 

Kerzolde bent and licked once at the Nightmare's toes,

then slipped out of the malice into the gathering darkness.

 

Elionbel sat huddled beside her mother, unable to sleep. The

cuts on her knees wept and oozed from the daylight's hard

climbing through the desolate landscape and yet they were

nothing but scratches against what Martbel had told her. How

was she to kill the monster when every movement was

watched by the broken-clawed Nightbeast? Below where they

had stopped, a dark stretch of water reflected the star-brigh'

sky and she stared down at it, searching for an answer. A cry

broke the night silence, scattering the grey swans across the

lake. Krulshards sprang to his feet, the malice billowing

against the night sky. Below, a blade flashed in the darkness

and a horse neighed fiercely. Silence once more blanketed to

surface of the lake and the swans returned to the shadows o

the bank.

 

'Thanehand!' Krulshards hissed, putting a hand over tl,

 

198

 

in,

 

women's mouths and pulling them behind the malice. Elion

struggled against the Nightmare's grip, biting at his smothering

fingers, trying to shout a warning to whoever held the

blade.

 

'Run!' snarled Krulshards, pushing Elionbel and Martbel

before him. 'Run!' Kerzolde snatched up Elionbel and

Kerhunge bundled Martbel beneath his arm, and tirelessly

they followed the Nightmare through a broken gap in the line

of bare hills that towered before them. Krulshards halted on

the lower slopes and put a dribble-wet finger up into the bitter

wind.

 

'The marshes will freeze!' he laughed. 'Before the daylight

they will have become the winter ice fields, treacherous and

impassable. Bring the Marcherwoman into the shadow of the

malice and walk in my footsteps. Tread to either side at your

peril.'

 

Krulshards drew the hood of the malice up over the top of

his head and hurried down the slope into the rock-strewn

marshes. 'Keep to my footprints!' he shouted into the first

drop of freezing rain.

 

Elionbel kicked against Kerzolde's iron grip but he only

sneered and squeezed her tighter. 'Keep still, Marcherwoman,

or I will disobey the Master and throw you into the

black marshwater.'

 

Elionbel stopped struggling and pushed her anger and

frustration back deep into her heart. Thane had been close to

her, she had felt his presence in the darkness. It must have

been him with the swans. Looking backwards over Kerzolde's

scaly shoulders she thought she saw the graceful long-necked

swans searching the edge of the marshes in the gloomy

morning light.

 

 

'Thanehand!' she whispered, letting her head sink forwards,

too tired to care that her long golden hair was snagging

on Kerzolde's shoulder scales. 'Please find us. Please come

quickly and rescue us from the Nightmare.'

 

'Faster! Faster!' shouted Krulshards, springing from rock

 

199

 

 

ato rock. The black marshwater was beginning to ice over and

push the rocks and boulders that marked the path into

treacherous ground. Soon the way would vanish beneath the

shifting ice field, covered by the snow that cut into their faces

in stinging squalls. Krulshards looked ahead and saw the

lowcut river meadows rising above the marsh edge. Sneering

with delight he climbed up on to the firm grass-covered bank

and pointed back across the frozen marshes. 'We are safe,

Marcherwomen. Nobody, not even Thanehand, could follow us

across the ice field. Watch a while and see the truth in what I

say.' ~

 

Elionbel and Martbel stood dejected and huddled against the

cold, watching the ice field spread out across the marshes,

picking up huge boulders that lay in its path and hurling them

into the black stinking waters. Fountains of sludge boiled up

across the ice and froze into petrified slippery ridges. Rank

grasses and bullrush flags became brittle ice-filled spears,

rattling in the bitter wind. Everywhere they looked the

greywhite ice whispered and groaned.

 

'None can follow us!' sneered the Nightmare. 'Not until the

new sun melts the ice.' Laughing he turned, pulling Elionbel

and Martbel along behind him.

 

'Let us rest!' Elionbel shouted, stumbling on to her knees.

 

Krulshards halted and spread the malice over them. 'There is

no rest now, Marcherwoman, not until we reach the City o f

Night. We are on the edges of Clatterford and must hurry to

escape the cursed light the Crystal Maker forges into his arrowheads.'

Taking Kerhunge's twelve-tailed whip he cracked it at

Elionbel's heels. 'Run, Marcherwomen' run!' he shouted, chasing

them forward across the grey winter grasses.

 

Elionbel lost track of the passing daylight as they ran

through the bleak, seemingly endless grassland and nightfall

brought no easing of the pace, only deeper despair as dark

shadowy Nightbeasts sprang up out of the tall grasses around

them and formed into two dense

 

200

 

l

 

columns, one on either side of the exhausted women. 'Carry the

ones who will lure Thanehand into the darkness,' laughed

the Nightmare. 'Carry my Marcherwomen and let no harm

come to them.'

 

Kerzolde looked up into the early dawn light and pointed

with his broken claw at the dark tree line that stretched across

the horizon. 'Nearly home, Master. That is the eaves of

Meremire Forest.'

 

Krulshards looked anxiously at the paling sky and cracked

the twelve-tailed whip across Kerzolde's face, 'Silence, fool,

none must know of our passing.'

 

Kerhunge touched the hem of the malice where it billowed in

the dawn breeze and silently pointed first to a line of twinkling

lights that were spread out in a crescent shape far to their left

and then towards a lone swan, flying low and fast across the

grasslands.

 

'Faster! Faster!' hissed Krulshards, lengthening his stride for

the eaves of the forest.

 

Ousious had found their tracks with the first morning light and

followed their burned and trampled path far across the

grasslands until she saw Krulshards' black shadow running for

the forest edge. 'Elionbel!' she sang in piercing notes. 'I bring

you word from Thanehand!' she cried, seeing Elionbel roughly

held between two Nightbeasts.

 

Elionbel twisted and struggled, crying out as the shadow of

the swan passed over her. Ousious circled, calling to Elionbel,

gliding dangerously close to the Nightmare. 'Thane cannot

follow you until the ice field melts, but his heart yearns to be

with you.'

 

Krulshards reached inside his malice, unhooked a

blackbladed spear and hurled it up into the dark shape of the

flying swan. Ousious shrieked and for a moment plunged

 

 

towards the ground. Krulshards pulled hard on the fine thread

attached to the spear but Ousious fought against him and

broke the blade, leaving a splinter of steel embedded deep

 

201

 

1

 

 

ainside her chest. Struggling, she rose up away from the hail of

Nightbeastspears and turned back towards Swanwater and the

long journey home. 'Thanehand, Thanehand will follow,' she

weakly cried, vanishing into the beginnings of a new morning.

 

Krulshards ran the Nightbeasts under the eaves of Meremire

Forest into the dense undergrowth, then stopped. Gripping

both women firmly, his hands gagging their mouths, he

watched a new threat to their safety drawing closer as the

crescent of Marchers and Gallopers passed slowly along the

forest edge.

 

Silently gloating he let both women watch as Tombel came

into sight. He looked older, worry worn and tired, yet the two

great Marcher swords he carried resting across his shoulders

were dirtied and black with Nightbeast blood.

 

'I smell Nightbeasts!' he shouted, coming on to Krulshards'

tracks where they had left the grasslands, turning away from

the forest. He_followed them for a few paces into the

grasslands. Elionbel, with one mighty effort, sank her teeth into

the Nightmare's hand, shearing through the rotten sinews of his

finger and cried out to her father, one piercin

 

cry before Krulshards smothered her in the malice.

 

Tombel spun round, both swords sweeping in a glittering

arch. 'Where did that cry come from?' he shouted, searching

the dark forest eaves.

 

'It must have been the grey swan, Father,' Rubel called

running to his father's side. 'It passed low overhead, swooping

and dipping, singing its strange death chant.' Shivering ho

watched the swan before saying, with an edge of fear in ha

voice, 'The aged crones say that the voice of the swan i:

someone's death call.'

 

'Crones' tales!' Tombel muttered, lowering the swords an.

turning his back on Meremire Forest. 'Nothing but crones tales

in a swan's voice, and I thought for a moment that

 

heard Elionbel's voice crying out.'

 

Sighing, Tombel walked a few paces into the grassland.

 

202

 

'Come on, Rubel, we shall marshal the crescent and sweep out

across these grasslands. Thane and Arbel could be anywhere

in this vastness.'

 

Rubel frowned, wrinkling his nose. 'Wait, Father,' he said

quietly, rubbing at the wound on his arm, 'there is something

here, something that strikes terror into my heart. It's the

Nightmare!' he cried, gripping his father's arm, sniffing the

dawn air. 'The smell is here, the Nightmare's smell, that same

smell that filled our Wayhouse after Krulshards had taken

mother and Elionbel, and Arbel struck that sword blow. That

same smell is all around us!'

 

Tombel steadied Rubel, holding him until he had stopped

shaking. Turning, he knelt and sniffed the ground, catching the

rancid smell of rotten flesh, the smell of Krulshards. 'There are

different tracks mixed up amongst these Nightbeasts'

footprints. Look how the ground has been burned and

blackened.'

 

'But which way did the Nightmare travel?' Rubel asked,

staring into the shadows of the forest.

 

Tombel frowned, straightened his back and walked towards

the forest edge. 'There are too many tracks to tell, they cross

and muddle. The Nightmare could have travelled either way.'

 

Krulshards stepped backwards, tightening his grip on

Elionbel and Martbel, smothering them with the hem of the

malice, and motioning silently with his hand, he spread the

Nightbeasts on either side of him, their spear blades pointing

out towards the Marchers.

 

'Which way, Father?' Rubel pressed impatiently.

 

Tombel sighed and turned away from the forest. 'There are

too many tangle-trees in this forest. We would be risking the

 

 

entire crescent of Marchers, putting them in great danger, if we

try to pass through the trees, and if we stray off the Greenways

the Gallopers cannot follow us. I counsel that we search the

grasslands. If Thane had pursued the Nightmare on this road he

would have left a sign or waymarked the path.

 

203

 

 

I say that the Nightmare has turned towards Clatterford and

the wildlands beyond. I council that these tracks beneath the

forest eaves belong to a band of Mghtbeasts that are travelling

with Krulshards.'

 

'Forward, Marchers, and Gallopers!' Rubel cried, pointing

the blade of his sword out across the winter-grey grasses. 'We

may be on the trail of the Nightbeasts who captured my

brother, Arbel. Forward!'

 

Krulshards laughed and lifted the edge of the malice.

'Watch, Marcherwomen,' he sneered, 'and shout until your

lungs burst, but they will not hear you above the tramp of their

marching feet and the clatter of their horses' hooves. You are

lost for ever and our road is clear through the ancient forest to

the City of Night and your torment in the darkness.'

 

204

 

:

 

Great Deeds

 

Thane woke to the clamour of hissing voices all around him.

The grey swans were moving in a dense waddling flock along

the beach, craning their necks in alarm towards the ice field.

Swanwater echoed to the thunder of beating wings as swan

after swan left the surface of the lake and flew searching

across thrice field.

 

Ogion stood statue-still at the water's edge, his head tilted

to one side, staring into the distance. 'My Queen has gone,'

he hissed at Thane, as he came hurrying down to the water's

edge. 'The Queen of Swans has followed the Nightmare and I

fear for her life.'

 

Thane spread his hands in a helpless gesture and looked

out across Swanwater. 'If only Mulcade were here,' he

whispered, 'he would find her for you, for he is the sharpesteyed

Lord of Owls that ever flew in Elundium.'

 

Stumble snorted and drank deeply from the lake. Ogion

spread his wings and ran into the water. 'I can hear her, far,

far away, across the ice field.' Beating his wings, he rose up

out of a plume of white spray and headed low across the

tumble of creaking ridges that marked the edge of the ice

field.

 

Thane paced the empty beach, watching the clouded grey

horizon. It was bitterly cold and he rubbed his hands together

to warm them. He could hear the swan music, haunting as it

cut across the wind, gradually getting closer. Stumble heard a

change in the swan voices and pricked his ears. Neighing

 

205

 

 

fiercely he urged Thane to mount and cantered out into the

lake, swimming as fast as he could through the ice-cold water.

 

The sky above the lake darkened as Ogion led his Queen

over the last tumbled ridges of the ice field. On either side

two swans supported her tired wings, easing her down on to

the water. Ousious crashed, ungracefully, in a spray of white

foam and lay floating, head down and wings outstretched.

Ogion landed beside her and pulled at her head, pecking at

the close downy feathers to keep it above the water.

 

Stumble had reached the place where Ousious lay and

Thane reached out and pulled the drowning swan up out of

the cold water then laid her across the high pommel of the

saddle. Gently he took her head and tucked it inside his shirt,

folded her wings and wrapped his cloak around her cold

shivering body. Stumble slowly turned and swam back to the

bank, flanked on either side by the whispering swans.

 

Jumping quickly out of the wet saddle Thane opened his

cloak and laid Ousious on the beach. Turning her over he saw

the broken spear blade protruding out of her chest. 'Krulshards'

black metal!' he muttered between clenched teeth,

loosing the dagger from his belt and drawing it out.

 

Standing up he faced Ogion and the close-packed beach of

swans that encircled him. 'Ogion, your Queen will die if I do

not try to pull the Nightmare's blade out of her chest.'

 

Ogion stepped forward hissing and touched the dagger

with his beak. Thane smiled and dropped on to his knees,

spreading his ragged travel-worn cloak across Ousious

shivering body. 'Fetch me kindling sticks and fire-wood. I

must clean the blade of my dagger of any trace of Nightbeast

blood with fire before it touches the Queen of Swans. Go

quickly for time is our enemy.'

 

Thane searched out his spark and dried it in the palm of his

hand while the swans built a pile of kindling sticks on the!

beach. Kneeling again he held Ousious' head in his hand'

and whispered to her, 'The blade will be white, fire-hot ant

as pure as the day Durondel hammered it on his anvil.'

 

206

 

Ousious opened her eyes.

 

'We will follow Elionbel together,' Thane whispered, 'when

you are strong and healed from this terrible wound.'

 

Ousious closed her eyes and hissed quietly, her orange

beak quivering in his hand. Turning his head, Thane threw

the spark, lighting the pile of kindling and waited until the

base of the fire had burned into a bed of white-hot ash.

Picking up the dagger he thrust it hilt deep into the ashes and

watched the almost invisible smears of foul Nightbeast blood

bubble and hiss as they burned away.

 

'Merion, give me your skill!' Thane whispered, trying to

remember what he had seen the Healer do to remove the

broken spear blades from the injured warriors of Underfall.

 

Gripping the jagged protruding splinter of black steel he

pulled hard. Ousious screamed, arching her back away from

the ground. Easing his hand from the broken blade he sat and

thought, forming a picture of the dark fortress at Underfall

and the small stone cell where Merion mended the Nightmare

wounds. Clearly he saw him hurrying and singing as he

opened the edges of a wound with a long curved blade and

easily removed the slivers of steel or broken arrow-heads.

Something glittered in his hands - thread, gold and silver.

Deftly, the Healer would sew the jagged tears together,

sometimes pouring new blood into the wound. 'Now I know,'

he whispered, closing his hand on the hilt of his dagger, but

he had forgotten the fire and screamed as the hot metal

burned his skin.

 

'Nevian, give me courage!' he shouted, clenching his

burned fingers around the hot metal hilt and cueing two deep

incisions into the swan's chest beside the broken splinter.

Warm blood gushed up, cooling the blade and flooding across

his burning knuckles. With his other hand he grabbed the

splinter and wrenched it free. Ousious lay limp and still on the

ground, her chest feathers matted and sticky, and the edges of

 

 

the wound slipped in Thane's fingers as he tried to stop the

bleeding. He knew she would die if he could not give her new

 

207

 

 

blood and close the edges of the wound. In despair he turned

the dagger and with one stroke gashed his wrist, crying out

and biting his tongue as the blade cut through the skin.

 

'Live, Queen of Swans,' he cried, forcing his bleeding wrist

against Ousious' chest, plunging it deep into the gaping

wound.

 

Stumble neighed and pushed hard against his ann, rubbing

his coarse mane on Thane's cheek. Thane turned his head

crossly to send Stumble away, but a shaft of winter sunlight

broke through the clouds at that moment and touched the

little horse's neck, shining on the mane.

 

'Silver and gold!' Thane cried, dropping the dagger and

reaching out with his free hand he pulled a handful of the

coarse hair from Stumble's crest. Faintness was sweeping

over Thane in waves, he felt dizzy and light-headed. 'I must

hurry,' he whispered, using the point of the dagger to pierce

small holes on either side of the wound. Deftly he threaded

strands of hair from hole to hole, looping the ends with his

free hand. Bending forward he gripped each hair in turn in

his teeth and pulled the knots tight. The last strand tied he

sank back on to his heels and smiled weakly at Ogion.

 

'It is done!' he whispered, closing his eyes and falling

forwards in a black faint.

 

Ogion pecked gently at his Queen's wing, nudging her

against Thane's side out of the bitter wind. Motioning to the

leader of swans he bade them cover Thane and Ousious with

the cloak and keep the beach fire ablaze with kindling wood

until he returned. Bending his neck he stared at the bloody

splinter of black steel that lay where Thane had dropped it

and hissed in rage. Picking it up in his beak he walked towards

the water's edge to throw it away.

 

'What treasure do you carry, Lord of Swans?' called an

ancient voice from the top of the bank above the pebblestrewn

beach. Ogion turned, dropping the broken blade and

spread his wings to charge. Nevian laughed and sprang light,

down the bank on to the beach.

 

208

 

'Master of Magic!' Ogion hissed, folding his wings. 'It is as

you foretold. This search for Krulshards has led us to our

doom. Ousious, my Queen, lies near to death and I fear that

the spear thrust cut more than just flesh. I fear that it is the

beginning of our silence.'

 

Nevian frowned and shook the rainbow cloak, sending

brilliant shafts of summer light across the cold winter beach.

'Fate is a cruel master but even your Queen has played her

part, for the Master Armourer of Elundium would call that

broken blade beside your webbed foot a treasure rare and

beautiful!'

 

'It is Nightmare steel, foul and black with shadows, marked

with the blood of my Queen.'

 

'Yet,' whispered Nevian, pulling aside the cloak that covered

Thane and Ousious, 'it failed to take her life and could

be turned in purpose against the hand that threw it, against

the Nightmare's heart. Take it, Lord of Swans, and carry it to

Durondell for he has a great need of such strong metal.'

 

'Why should I spoil my beak for the skill of the Armourer?

He forges our death in the battle tools he makes in the heat of

his furnace.'

 

Nevian reached out and touched Ogion's neck and pointed

down at Thane. 'He gave his blood to save your Queen. The

splinter of steel is his by right. Carry it for him to Durondell

and repay the debt.'

 

Ogion bent his neck and held closed the ugly slash on

Thane's wrist with his beak, until the sluggish flow of blood

stopped altogether.

 

'You foretold he would protect us and for his deeds this day

I will carry the blade.' Taking up the black metal in his beak

he beat a path out across the lake and rose up over the ice

field to vanish from the Magician's sight.

 

 

Nevian smiled, rubbing his age-wrinkled hand through

Stumble's mane and pulled a coloured thread from the hem

of his rainbow cloak. 'Great deeds are in the making,' he

whispered, neatly sewing up the ugly gash on Thane's wrist

 

209

 

 

before placing it back beneath the travel-worn cloak. 'Great

deeds!' he sighed, looking out across Swanwater.

 

210

 

The Sword is Reforged

 

Durondell, the Master Armourer, looked across at the dampened

forge, rubbed his eyes and peered through the blue

haze of wood smoke that drifted out into the winter sunlight.

The clatter of hoofbeats filled the air.

 

'Who comes to the Forge of Durondell?' he shouted,

striking his long-handled blennishing hammer on the spike of

the anvil. 'Come forward, warriors!' he cried, rising from his

chair and impatiently wiping his spark-blackened hands on

the edge of his leather apron before crossing the ashtrampled

floor to where Thoron stood undecided between the wideflung

doors.

 

'What has brought you in search of me? Hard riding on the

Lord of Horses with a proud squadron of Gallopers must

warrant a mighty cause. Come forward and speak!'

 

Thoron drew back out into the sunlight, his hand tight on

Eguestrius' rein. 'Nevian bid me find you.'

 

Durondell laughed, casting his eye over the Gallopers.

'You have ridden hard and fast through the great world of

Elundium, giving little thought to rest and comfort and yet

you hesitate on my threshold stone? Come forward, Thoronhand,

be not afraid.'

 

'You know my name!' Thoron whispered, looking into the

smoke-filled forge.

 

'You are as much a legend as I,' laughed Durondell,

emerging through the smoke to take Thoron's arm. 'How

could I forget the sword I forged long ago for Nevian to give

 

211

 

 

to you, the last Errant Rider of the Granite Kings, who has

come back from the shadows of the City of Night. I knew you

by the hilt of the sword at your belt.'

 

Thoron looked down and took the hilt, drawing the sword I

from its sheath. 'Nevian bade me to show you the blade and

 

ask you to reforge it, strong enough to shatter stone.'

 

Durondell frowned, took the sword from Thoron's hand

and walked towards the white hot furnace. 'Each blade I have

fashioned has served a purpose in the making of Elundium,

but to reforge strong enough to shatter stone. ..'

 

Turning to Thoron he held up the blade. 'Only a King

could lift the sword if I do as you ask. Only a King would have

the power to carry it into battle.'

 

Thoron smiled, ruffling Eagle Owl's chest feathers. 'I ride

upon the Lord of Horses and Nevian said that Eagle Owl will

carry the sword, for he is the King of Battle Owls and pledged

to it. The blade is not for my hands, but for my grandson,

Thanehand, who runs hard on Krulshards' heels.'

 

'The Master of Nightmares!' Durondell whispered, running

his fingers along the worn cutting edges of the blade. 'It

will need all my skill and more to forge a blade against the

Master of Nightmares, much more.'

 

'What will you need?' Thoron cried. 'If it is within my

power the horsemen will fetch it.'

 

Durondell smiled, pointing to a small pile of seasoned oak

splinters stacked beside the forge. 'I will need a forest of fuel

to fire the forge. Would your horsemen gather wood for me?'

 

'It will be done!' Thoron cried, motioning to the long

column of horsemen to scatter through the nearby forest.

 

'Gather only fallen boughs,' Durondell shouted. 'Touch

nothing that lives, it will spoil the molten steel.'

 

Turning back Durondell rummaged through the tall stands

of steel, ringing his hammer on each length, searching for the

perfect note. Darkness was falling and the first horses had

returned, pulling long heavy wind-blown boughs behind

them, before he found the piece of steel he sought and laid it

 

212

 

',1

L

 

beside the forge. 'The steel must be fire warm for one night.

Come, warriors, and rest and talk of battle days before the

Nightmare ran loose in our fair Elundium. Tell me of the

Granite City and the tall towers that mark the passing

daylights with their pencil-thin shadows. Tell me of the

Granite King who keeps the sunlight pure and bright.'

 

'The King has gone!' Thoron whispered. 'Vanished without

a trace, and the Granite City has been laid to ruins by a

mighty Nightbeast army. Nothing remains but broken stone.

The Nightbeasts are spreading terror and fear far across

Elundium.'

 

'Then we must hurry with this blade and forge it with

strength against their shadows. You will be my striker when I

split and laminate the blade. Be at my side as the new sun

rides clear of World's Edge. Be ready!'

 

Long after the last horseman had fallen asleep Durondell

returned to the forge and banked up the furnace in preparation

for the forging. Pausing, he picked up the prewarmed

sword and examined the blade, smiling in the soft glow of the

fire. 'Tomorrowlight I will open your heart and temper you

with a new strength for the task ahead.'

 

Putting the sword back into the charcoal cinders he

frowned; this sword would need more than steel to make it

Kingworthy. It would need something with more strength

than ordinary steel that he could hammer into the blade.

Looking into the heart of the fire he whispered out every

metal known to him, in his head, balancing and blending them

 

 

to make a sword that would shatter stone. Threads of gold

and slivers of silver, tumbles of brass, coils of copper. Sighing,

he shrugged his shoulders and walked out into the cold night

to watch the stars, but no matter where he looked the answer

he sought remained hidden. Far away on the edge of the night

wind he could hear a single swan's voice, clear and haunting,

calling to him through the darkness.

 

'Durondell - I have what you seek. Come to me, come to

me.'

 

213

 

 

Durondell spun round, following the swan's voice in the

darkness. 'You have what I seek?' he whispered, a frown

creasing his forehead. 'But where are you? Where will you

land on such a dark night?'

 

Durondell passed the forge trying to remember each lake

and waterway chat crossed the world of Elundium. Many were

too narrow or weed choked for swans to use but Here was the

mirror lake chat legends named as Clearwater, and chat would

shine as bright as daylight on a star-filled night. That was the

only stretch of water the swans could land safely on. 'Equestrius,

Lord of Horses,' he called, softly leaving the forge and

hurrying through the horse lines, 'will you carry me to

Clearwater, for the key to the forging of this sword is in the

swan's voice.'

 

Equestrius snorted and knelt for the Master Armourer of

 

Elundium to climb upon his back, and then cantered into the i

darkness beyond She forge. For what seemed an age the

Armourer clung on tighdy letting Equestrius have his head

and find the shortest route through narrow valleys and tight

copses of tangle-trees until they slowed to a trot and crossed

the water meadows chat stretched along the banks of

Clearwater. Blinking his eyes against the water's glare Durondell

looked for the swan.

 

Ogion heard the dbunder of Equestrius' hooves and swam

into the shadows of the wide sandy bank then waded ashore.

Statue-like he waited on the steep sandy beach. Durondell

climbed stiffly to the ground and knelt before the Lord of

Swans.

 

Lifting his eyes he saw the broken splinter of steel in the

swan's beak. 'Black metal!' he whispered, reaching out a

trembling hand towards the broken spear blade chat the swan

carried. 'You carry the strength for the new sword!' he cried,

closing his fingers on the black splinter. 'There is nothing in

my forge to match it.'

 

Ogion hissed, drawing his head back from the Armourer's

hand, holding Durondell's eyes with a hard stare. Durondell

 

214

 

' ;

 

\

 

.~

A,

 

dropped his hand to his side, brushing his knuckles through

the dew-wet sand. 'Nevian has asked me to reforge a sword

strong enough to shatter stone. A sword of Kings, to be used

by Thanehand against the Nightmare, Krulshards.'

 

'Thanehand!' Ogion hissed, seeing now how their fates

were mixed. He allowed the Armourer to pick up the broken

black metal spear blade. 'Forge it hard to avenge my Queen!'

Ogion hissed before he entered the water and swam out into

the centre of the lake. Dawn had begun to break and the first

blackbirds stirred in the trees. Ogion beat the still water

beneath his dark wings and rose up into the first shaft of

sunlight, then turned towards Swanwater, flying high across

the rolling hills of Elundium.

 

The broken spear blade weighed heavy in Durondell's

hands as he wrapped the black metal in the tail of his cloak

and remounted Equestrius. 'Tread carefully, for we carry a

rare treasure to the forging and we must not lose it on the

way!'

 

Equestrius snorted and arched his neck, keeping to the

centre of the way, well clear of the shadows, as he retraced

their path back to the forge.

 

'Strike the wedge squarely, and with each blow see the

Nightmare's death!' Durondell instructed, giving the heavy

forging hammer to Thoron.

 

'But . . .' Thoron whispered, his eyes straying to the roaring

furnace where the black metal splinter bubbled and hissed in

the heat of the fire.

 

 

'Close your ears, warrior, to everything but the sweet song

of the hammer and look to nothing but the wedge as it opens

the blade. Are you ready?'

 

Thoron nodded silently, flexing his fingers around the

smooth polished handle of the hammer. Durondell turned to

the forge and gripped the hilt of the sword between the

1onghandled tongs and laid it white hot across the anvil. Tiny

star sparks fizzed along the blade and fell burning on to the

 

215

 

 

floor. Taking the sharp wedge in his free hand he balanced it

on the cutting edge of the sword, squeezing the fine to

hold it steady.

 

'Now!' he cried, 'Strike! Each time I move the wedge,

strike!'

 

Blow by blow the wedge moved along the sword, biting into

the blade, cutting through the thin metal. Twice Durondel I

resumed the sword to the fire to reheat it before striking was

complete and the sword lay with its two cutting edges

hammered into splayed strips of still fire-hot metal upon the

anvil..

 

'It is a wonder,' Thoron exclaimed, bending forwards to

study the strange star-shaped blade.

 

Durondell laughed and tossed the sword hilt deep back

into the fire. 'That is nothing but fancy forge work, any

smith can do that. Now comes the task to test the Master

Armourer of Elundium. Stand back lest the black metal

strikes out.'

 

Carefully, with the shortest blunt-nosed tongs, Durondell

withdrew the black splinter of steel from the furnace. Sullen

and brooding, glowing dark red, it scattered sparks across the

anvil. Durondell took a deep breath and swung his hammer.

Thoron leapt back as blood-red sparks fountained up, and

blocked his ears as the metal screamed out, echoing all his

worst nightmares.

 

Durondell laughed and struck again and again, flattening

and drawing the splinter, changing its shape until he had

fashioned it into a long thin strip, twice the length of the

sword. Taking a cold chisel from the cooling tank he cut the

strip in two and placed both parts beside the sword in the

forge. Wiping his blackened, burned hand across his forehead

he stepped back and motioned to Thoron to feed the fire with

the wood they had gathered.

 

'I have never worked with black metal before,' he said to

Thoron, taking him out into the noonday sunlight. 'It is

Nightmare steel fashioned in the darkness of the City of

 

216

 

Night, but caution warned me and prudence armed me well.

Look!'

 

Durondell lifted his old spark-scarred leather apron and

showed Thoron where two thin slithers of black metal had

pierced through the leather. Thoron gasped, looking at the

Ammourer's chest, expecting to see blood on his shirt. Durondell

laughed and opened his coarse woven shirt to reveal a

smooth sheet of shining metal that rose and fell with each

breath.

 

'Steelsilver!' Thoron gasped, reaching out to touch it.

 

Durondell smiled. 'In my youth it was my triumph against

the darkness. Then this forge rang night and day to the sweet

music of my hammer. I had found the secret of steelsilver and

forged all the battle coats for the Warhorses.'

 

'A steelsilver cloak would render a warrior unbeatable in

battle,' Thoron whispered.

 

'I lost the secret when the horses' battle coats were

finished. This fragment is all that remains and I kept it in

memory of my true power. Come, the forge will be hot

enough now to reforge the sword.'

 

'Would steelsilver have made the sword strong enough?'

Thoron asked as they passed through the doors back into the

smoke-hazed forge.

 

Durondell smiled, picking up his long-handled tongs. He

gripped the hilt of the sword and passed it to Thoron.

 

'I would have used steelsilver but its strength was to defend

against the darkness, not to attack. It would have made the

sword shine and given it the sound of larksong as it cut

through the air. The new power in this reforged blade will be

to use the Nightmare's own steel against him, it will shine

 

 

enough from the honing stone and yet be black enough to

penetrate the malice. Now, hold the blade steady across the

anvil while I laminate the black steel inside the sword and the

new steel on the outside. It will take all my skill to weld them

together.'

 

Thoron held the sword with the fire tongs while Durondell

 

217

 

 

placed the thin strips of black steel inside the blade and eased

them together with soft, carefully aimed blows from the flat

blemishing hammer. The black steel hissed and spat as the

blade closed about it. Quickly the Armourer hammered on

the new steel and thrust the sword back into the fire, working

furiously at the bellows until the blade glowed white hot.

Calling forward two of the horsemen he gave them strong fire

tongs. 'When I lay the sword on the anvil hold it steady, no

matter what happens.'

 

Thoron helped draw the sword out of the forge and held it -I

steady while the horsemen clamped their tongs beside his.

Durondell swung his heaviest hammer down over his shoulder

and struck the blade, sending it buckling up into the air.:

'Hold it steady!' he shouted, striking again.

 

'Why does it fight against us?' Thoron cried, struggling to

keep the blade still.

 

'Light against darkness. Good against evil!' Durondell

shouted above the tortured screams of the metal as his

hammer struck again and again along the length of the blade.

Showers of blood-red sparks flew up to the roof of the forge,

driving back the circle of horsemen that had gathered to

watch the reforging. Gradually the hammer blows lessened

and their crashing changed from harsh screams to notes or

sweet music. The steels had welded together, rough hams

mered but fast stuck. Durondell laughed and pushed the

blade back into the fire.

 

'Now for the tempering,' he cried, pulling an old charred

wooden anvil out of the far end of the forge and placing it

beside the fire. Blinding smoke enveloped the Armourer as he

hammered the blade across the wooden anvil, cooling the hot

metal in the heavy oak sap.

 

'The sword is reforged!' he shouted, carrying the still-!

smoking blade out into the winter sunlight and putting it into

Thoron's hands.

 

Thoron tested the cutting edge against his fingers and

unhooked a sharp stone from his belt.

 

218

 

:.

 

A:

 

:)

 

:d

 

'Hone it well until it shines!' Durondell laughed. 'Hone it

until the moment the Lord of Owls takes to the air!'

 

Thoron gripped Durondell's hand and thanked him for the

reforged sword before he climbed slowly up into Equestrius'

saddle.

 

'Do not thank me until the sword has pierced the Nightmare'

s heart.'

 

'All Elundium will thank you then,' answered Thoron

grimly.

 

'Then hurry, horseman, and deliver the sword before time

blunts its edge,' urged Durondell.

 

Equestrius snorted and neighed fiercely, turning away from

the forge and cantering across the edges of Mantern's Forest

and the great road that led to World's End.

 

219

 

 

Light at Clatterford

 

Kyot walked alone in the gardens of Clatterford, listening to

the haunting cries of the peacocks as they strutted, shadows

long, across the lawns. He shivered and pulled his cloak

tighter against the winter chill and turned towards the

house.

 

'Without revenge!' he muttered for the thousandth time,

waiting for the darkness to cover his confusion and hide his

misery. He felt unsettled and unsure of his purpose and

ill-at-ease in the company of the beautiful Lady of Clatterford.

Sighing, he watched the colours deepen as the sunny

slipped out of sight behind the crystal halls, reflecting in

countless soft glowing patterns as darkness crept forward

covering everything. 'Clatterford, beautiful Clatterford!' he

cried, clenching his hands together, 'show me my purpose!'

 

'Kyot?' a voice whispered in the darkness at his side. Kyot

jumped and spun round. 'Why do you hide out here and walls

alone amongst the peacocks?'

 

Kyot could see the slender figure of Eventine against tl~e

darkening sky and smelled the cold night damp on the cloth o'

her cloak.

 

'You and your father are both angry with me,' he answered"

'and I do not wish to displease you further. I walk aloe'

searching for my purpose, and trying to shut out revenge. I an

ashamed that it still burns in my heart. It casts a shadow

across the beauty of Clatterford. Yet, if I give it up I turn

 

back on my father's torment and the Nightmare runs fire

 

220

 

.,

 

? _

 

~ _

 

You see, I have vowed to shoot an arrow strike into his black

heart.'

 

Eventine smiled and touched his hand. 'If you treasure the

light the Nightmare can never escape from you.'

 

Kyot breathed deeply, inhaling Eventine's night-fresh

scent and his heart raced. He had laughed when Thane had

told him of his love for Elionbel because he had never known

love but now he could almost cast aside all thought of the

Nightmare for one soft smile... Kyot shook his head,

scattering the picture, remembering how he had found his

father in the courtyard of Stumble Hill.

 

Eventine smiled in the darkness and took out a spark,

lighting it so that she could look into Kyot's eyes. 'There is a

shadow in your heart. A shadow of anger because my father

denied the glass-bladed arrows.,

 

Kyot blushed again, looking down at the lawn. 'No, if there

is anger in my heart it is aimed inwards at myself because I

know I cannot shut out revenge. I must avenge my father's

death. Nevian cast the rainbow cloak across my shoulders and

showed me his torment. I must follow the Nightmare to the

end of Elundium to clear my mind of that picture before it

burns my eyes into blindness.'

 

Eventine let the spark fall on to the lawn and sadly shook

her head. There were moments in the grasslands when she,

had seen him with a clear heart and a straight eye.

 

Kyot frowned and drew back. 'I was at Thane's side in the

battle before the Gates of Night, and I wounded the Nightmare

with one of your father's arrows. That is why Krulshards

took my father's life. Now I must kill him.'

 

'Was it only revenge and hate that brought you twenty

daylights into the grasslands?' Eventine asked, turning to him.

'What of all the other reasons for fighting against the

darkness? Do they have a place in your heart, or does revenge

shut them out?'

 

 

'Purpose? What other purpose? As the Wayhouse Keeper's

son my task is to fight against the Nightbeasts. Now I seek

 

221

 

 

their master, Krulshards', death. That is my purpose.'

 

'Was there nothing but the Nightbeasts before your father's

death?'

 

Kyot shook his head. 'My father was pledged against the

darkness and now I must take his place to rid the world of all

Nightbeasts.'

 

Eventine took both of Kyot's hands and held them tightly.

'What of the daylight? Are you blind to the beauty of the land

and all things that move within it?'

 

'No!' cried Kyot. 'Here at Clatterford I can see the beauty

you talk of, but the picture of my father's torment is more

powerful. It drives me to leave this place. It drives me back on

to the road to seek revenge.'

 

Eventine sighed, wrapped her cloak tightly around her

shoulders and turned towards the house. 'Perhaps if you

could see and love the daylight it would ease your pain.

Perhaps then you could see that there might be other ways to

destroy the Nightmare's heart.'

 

Kyot took a step to follow, stopped and sank to his knees.

'Nevian, help me!' he whispered, burying his head in his

hands. 'Take away this revenge. I know not what to do!'

 

'Be at peace, Kyot,' Fairday said quietly. ~

 

Kyot looked up, startled by the voice. The Crystal Maker

was standing before him, his sky-washed cloak a shade of pal

 

purple in the starlight. In his hands he held a glass-bladed

arrow that still showed the beauty of the setting sun in its tip;

Bending, Fairday placed the glass blade against Kyot's fore

 

head.

 

'Nevian, the Master of Magic, only showed you the tragedy

of your father's death. Close your eyes; watch with me no.

and see what he loved in the daylight.'

 

Kyot closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the setting sup

on his forehead and heard birdsong in the hedgerows, then he

saw his father on the high platform of the tower looking oh

 

over a beautiful evening landscape of rippling grasslands. Hi

sun touched each polished stalk of grass in waves of glittering

 

222

 

light. Wild deer sprang quickly through the grasses and owls

hovered in the deepening gloom. The picture faded as Kyot

opened his eyes, the first smile of Clatterford on his lips.

 

'Your father was pledged to keep the wayhouse safe, but his

love of the daylight far outmeasured his duty, and his victory

over the Nightmare was to hear the first blackbird herald the

new morning. I did not counsel you to turn away from the

Nightmare but to follow him with this clear picture in your

mind. See your father now with the new sun rising above

World's Edge, filling the courtyard of the tower on Stumble

Hill with the pure morning light that he loved.'

 

Kyot smiled, tears running down his face and rose to his

feet. Taking Fairday's hand into his he kissed the Crystal

Maker's knuckles. 'He could not retreat and let the Nightmare

steal one moment of the daylight. He stood there for us

all that we might see the new sun rise.'

 

'Give me your hand,' Fairday asked. 'This is the hand that

must be steady for it holds the great Bow of Elundium, but

this hand,' whispered Fairday, catching hold of Kyot's other

hand, 'will now hold the future of Elundium tight on the

bowstring.'

 

'How so?' cried Kyot. 'How can I carry such a burden?'

 

Fairday smiled. 'It will be but a moment's choice in the

darkness. That is why your bears must be pure and your eyes

clear sighted. Your fattier, if he lived, could have made that

choice, but it has fallen to you to stand in his place.'

 

 

'Yes, now I can see purpose,' Kyot cried, kneeling and

offering his empty quiver.

 

Fairday laughed, and pulled the young Archer to his feet.

'Go to my daughter. She has two quivers ready loaded with

spine-matched arrows. She has waited impatiently since your

arrival at Clanerford for this moment.'

 

Kyot blushed but Fairday laughed, for he had seen Kyot's

love for his daughter at their first meeting on the lawns of

Clanerford and it had saddened him to watch the shadow of

revenge stand between them. Putting his arm around Kyot's

 

223

 

 

shoulders he turned him towards the house.

 

'Long ago, when your father had just carved the great Bow

of Orm he came to me for glass arrows to use against the

Nightmare. As payment for the arrows he fashioned a bow

from the waste wood and left it in my care. It is the sister, the

wife, the perfect match to the Bow of Orm. Go to Eventine for

she has that bow, and let the bows sing out together against

the Nightmare. Go, for Nevian foretold your meeting and the

love that would grow out of it. Go quickly.' ;

 

Laughing, Kyot thanked Fairday, ran across the lawn and

sprang lightly up the wide glass steps to stand before Eventine. '

Forgive me,' he stammered, 'but revenge had clouded

my purpose and made me blind.'

 

Eventine closed her fingers around his hand and brought it

to her lips. 'When I first saw you in the grasslands I knew our

lives were to be interwoven. I know now that I loved you even

then.'

 

Kyot smiled, looking deeply into her eyes. 'Your arrows,

pressed silently into the ground while I slept, were a token!' .

 

'To keep you safe from the Nightbeasts!' she replied:

laughing. 'As a child my father often told me the legend of the

Archer who would one daylight cross the grasslands in search

of this house. It was a beautiful story, yet full of sadness, for

the Archer carried the tragedy of his father's cruel death ID

his heart. He was lost and alone with only the sun to guide

him.'

 

'You were beside me in the village?'

 

Eventine smiled, reached beneath her cloak and took ou

the Bow of Clatterford. 'Your father left this bow, it is a par'

of the legend. As a child I would stand before it making

myself as tall as possible, eager to nock an arrow on to the bow

string and ride out in search of the lonely Archer. I counted

the Nightbeasts and shadowed your every step, you did not

hear me because our bows sing the same tune.'

 

Kyot took the bow from Eventine and held it against his

own listening to the gentle music the bow strings

 

224

 

together in the chill night draught blowing through the open

doorway. Eventine shivered and put her arm through Kyot's.

'Come and see the beauty of Clatterford now that the

blindness has gone,' she whispered, pointing into the darkened

halls where Candlemen were lighting the lamps,

bringing the house to life.

 

Carrying the two bows Kyot entered the inner halls and

stood spellbound, staring from wall to wall. Eventine followed

his gaze. 'Clatterford is a mirror, nothing but a mirror held up

against an imperfect world. It is the memory of all that is

beautiful, all that is good and all that is bad.'

 

Kyot knelt and reached out a hand to touch the smooth

glass walls, to touch the flowers and ferns, stalks and stems,

that seemed frozen forever fresh, each leaf and vein, in finest

detail, etched inside the glass. 'Everything has so much

beauty!' he murmured.

 

'Even shadows!' Eventine smiled, and beckoned him to

follow her. 'We keep the darkness of men's hearts here in a

room crowded with thoughts of greed and revenge. For many

daylights I feared I would lose you to that place. Come, let me

show you.'

 

Eventine led the way through a maze of smooth polished

corridors where each wall grew a little more clouded and dull

until they stood before a smoke-darkened door. Eventine

shivered and drew her cloak tightly around her shoulders

before she opened the door. Kyot cried out and jumped

backwards, away from crowded half-formed beasts and nightmare

shapes.

 

'Be not afraid,' Eventine shouted, catching him by the hand

and drawing him into the darkness. She pushed his hand

through the nightmares until it touched the cold glass wall.

His hand felt icy and brittle and his eyes ached.

 

 

'Learn to face the darkness,' she urged, tightening her grip

on his hand.

 

'Rockspray was my eyes in the City of Night!' Kyot cried,

blinking and not daring to look through the shadows.

 

225

 

 

'He is a great Bird of War but he may not always be with

you. You must overcome your fear of the dark if you are to

follow tile Nightmare.'

 

Rockspray flew from Kyot's shoulder to perch on Eventine'

s arm. 'Now I am blind!' Kyot cried, scratching wildly at

the wall.

 

'Open your eyes, Kyot,' Eventine whispered, brushing her

fingertips across his eyelids. 'You can see in the dark if you

want to. You have the power.'

 

Slowly he opened his eyes, feeling them widen as the lashes

parted.

 

'What do you see?' Eventine asked.

 

'Shadowy shapes and dark walls, envy, greed, hatred,

revenge,' he replied, slowly turning his head.

 

Eventine laughed and threw open the door. 'We will come

here each evening until you can look without blinking at what

hides in the walls of the shadow room.'

 

'What hides there?' he began to ask as they walked back

towards the crystal halls, but Eventine put a finger on his lips.

 

'Your love of the daylight will overcome the darkness,' she

answered, frowning with concern as her fader came running

through the outer halls.

 

'Eventine! Kyot!' he cried, 'my watchers have seen Nightbeasts

swarming through the grasslands in their thousands.

They will reach the edges of Clatterford. We must warn duet

villagers!'

 

Kyot ran to the top of the wide glass steps and called out

against the darkness for Sprint to come to him. Twice he

shouted his name and twice in echo a stag roared at the cold

evening stars, closely followed by Sprint's proud neigh.

'

He runs with Tanglecrown,' Eventine said, running to

Kyot's side. 'Listen! I can hear Heir hoofbeats near the form

 

Kyot laughed softly as he listened to die jingle of harness

mingled with the growing thunder of hooves. 'We will strolls

terror into the Nightbeasts' hearts,' he cried.

 

'And scythe them down as click as summer corn!' Eventid

 

226

 

1

 

, 1

.

, 1

 

l 1

 

1

 

1

 

]

 

added, springing lightly down on to the lawn.

 

Fairday hurried through the doorway holding two twisted

glass torches aloft chat sparkled and fizzed fountains of cold

white light, illuminating the wide sweep of lawns.

 

'The Lord of Stags!' Kyot cried, stepping back out of

Tanglecrown's way as he halted before Eventine.

 

She laughed and taking Kyot's hand she placed it between

the razor-sharp tangle of crystal-tipped anders on his soft

velvet forehead. 'My father has armed him against the

Nightbeasts,' she said, plucking a slender stalk of grass and

slicing it in two on the crystal-covered ander tips. 'He is

proud and brave and stands beside me in the struggle against

the darkness. He is the Lord of his kind.'

 

Sprint snorted, arching his neck and rearing up above

 

 

Kyot's head.

 

'Sprint is the bravest relay horse from the Tower on

Stumble Hill, and he has carried me fearlessly against the

shadows many times,' Kyot cried, reaching up and catching a

loop of rein.

 

'They will run together!' Fairday shouted above the rising

clamour of voices from inside the house. 'Together on the

edge of the grassland wind, and they will buy the time chat we

need to forge the arrow-heads that will strike at Krulshards'

heart.'

 

'You have my pledge on it,' Kyot cried, pirouetting Sprint

on a tight bridle.

 

'Come back to the House at Clatterford when the frost

before morning is lithe more than a whisper to chill the

fingers. Come then, and the arrows you seek will be ready!'

Fairday passed the torches to a waiting Candleman and

descended the steps. 'Take care, my precious daughter,' he

begged, reaching up and gripping her hand.

 

Tanglecrown pawed the ground, sweeping his anders in a

glittering arch.

 

'I have the Lord of Stags, Father, and the greatest Archer

that ever walked Elundium at my side. I have nothing to fear.'

 

227

 

 

'Krulshards is loose and travels where he pleases. Her

spreads despair and darkness that blind my second sight.

Beware, daughter!'

 

Eventine smiled down at her father, her eyes full of love. 'I

treasure the daylight, and thus I must defend it.'

 

Fairday frowned, rubbing his long, age-flecked hand across

his forehead, catching a glimpse of a daylight yet to come.

'Wait!' he cried, holding on to his daughter's cloak as she

turned Tanglecrown to follow Sprint towards the ford.

Tanglecrown halted and Eventine looked over her shoulder to

her father.

 

'You will find two travellers on the road, wearied and worn

to rags. Pass them by and all Elundium will fall into darkness.

Find them and bring them here to the Crystal House of

Clatterford.'

 

228

 

The River in the Darkness

 

With each step the roaring noise grew louder, filling the dark

secret road with a rage of sound, forcing the King and those

that followed him to muffle their heads.

 

'What can it be?' Breakmaster shouted, his hands slipping

on the mist-wet reins.

 

Grey Goose motioned to them to stop and ran ahead, an

arrow ready necked on to the bow. King Holbian sat down on

the cold wet floor and, leaning back against the rough rock

wall, slipped into sleep. Angis slid down from Beacon Light's

saddle and knelt beside the King, wrapping his gnarled

knuckles in her shawl.

 

Holbian murmured and opened his eyes. 'To have such

friends here, at Road's End, is more than I deserve.' His

heavy eyelids slowly shut and his head nodded forwards.

 

'He is age worn and brittle,' Angis whispered, tugging at

Breakmaster's sleeve and pointing to the maze of fine fractures

in the King's face and neck.

 

Breakmaster nodded silently and drew Angis aside. 'Nevian

pledged me to keep him warm, but it is impossible in this dark

damp place; even the steelsilver coat is not enough to stop the

King from shivering.'

 

Grey Goose emerged from the darkness, glistening beneath

a layer of clinging water mist. 'Breakmaster,' he hissed,

shaking his arms and rubbing his wet hands vigorously

together to make them warm. 'Come here quickly.'

 

Drawing Angis and the horseman away from the King he

 

229

 

 

- ~

 

told them what he had seen further down the tunnel. 'We are

doomed! Like rats in a trap we are fated to drown in the dark.'

 

'Trapped? How?'

 

Grey Goose shook his head as if trying to cast away what he

had seen. 'There is an underground river, fast running and

deep and dangerous, less than one hundred paces further on.'

 

'But the Chancellors?' interrupted Breakmaster. 'Surely if

we are trapped they must be also.'

 

Grey Goose laughed bitterly. 'There was a bridge, a narrow

single span, but either it broke beneath their weight or they

ruined it once they were across. The way is closed and the

broken rubble from the bridge has partly dammed the river.

The roaring noise you can hear is the water rising to flood this

miserable secret road.' ~ .

 

Breakmaster turned and stared back at the huddled city

folk spread along the rough rock walls, clenching his fist. He

feared water and felt his throat tighten in panic. 'I would

rather face a thousand Nightbeasts . . .'he began to whisper,

when Grey Goose gripped his arm and shook him fiercely.

 

'You must be strong. There is none but us to lead; the KinE

is ageing and growing weaker with each step; we are the only

Captains.'

 

Breakmaster laughed, 'I have stood before galloping horse'

and tamed the wildest beasts but . . .'

 

'Then stand by me now, friend,' whispered the Archer

nervously pulling at his bowstring, 'and tame the beast the

lurks in your heart, it will be your greatest triumph.'

 

'And the hardest baule,' Breakmaster added, turning t.

Angis. 'Go gently amongst the people,' he instructed her in ~

hushed whisper, 'find Arachan, the stonemason, and brir4

 

him with all haste to me.'

 

Arachan hurried forwards, his stone-chipping tools clink

ing against each other in a coarse hessian sack thrown acres

his shoulder.

 

'The masons that carved this tunnel had skill beyond n'

understanding,' he laughed, swinging the heavy tool sack

 

230

 

it:

 

to the ground before asking what task they had called him to

do.

 

'Follow,' Grey Goose commanded, disappearing into the

mist-wet black tunnel. The water had risen almost to Grey

Goose's knees before he reached the broken bridge and

showed the mason the disaster that blocked the path.

 

'Wonder of a lost age,' Arachan murmured, staring at the

broken span of the bridge where it rose in a steep arch out of

the raging waters.

 

'Is there a way to cross?' Breakmaster asked, struggling to

control his panic and keep his voice level.

 

Arachan laughed and waded out on to the bridge. 'Light

me a spark, horseman! And try to keep it steady in your hand.'

Kneeling, the mason inspected the smooth stone of the bridge

and peered down into the jumble of broken stone blocking the

river. Whistling and humming tunelessly he scaled the walls

and climbed out over the black boiling water. 'Pass me a

searcher,' he shouted to Grey Goose who was holding the

sack of tools above the rising flood.

 

For what seemed half a daylight Breakmaster shivered,

knee deep in the freezing cold water, holding the spark, while

Grey Goose passed a steady flow of dull, hammer-blemished

tools up to the mason. 'Is there a way? Tell us.'

 

 

Arachan laughed and climbed down out of the roof, wiping

his dirty face on his sleeve. 'The stonemen that fashioned this

road built two bridges, the one you see ruined and impassable

and above that a narrow ledge. I expect the ledge bridge

follows a natural fault in the rock and they probably used it to

cross the river while they were building the lower one.'

 

'But can we escape using the ledge?' Grey Goose asked

above the roar of the water cascading over the fallen rubble. It

was deafening and dampened the music of the steelsilver coat

as King Holbian came forward to find his Captains in

debate.

 

'Lord,' Breakmaster cried, 'there was a bridge, but

now . . .!'

 

231

 

 

daylight.'

 

Arachatt pushed his way forwards. 'There is a way, my

Lord, dangerous and difficult, but there is a way forward.'

 

King Holbian struck his spark and stared out at the broken

span of the bridge. 'How?' he asked without turning. i.

 

'There is a ledge, my Lord, up near the roof of the secre

road. It is blocked with rubble and fallen stone choke, but if

we clear it we have a path to the daylight.'

 

Holbian looked up at the narrow ledge. 'A bird or a

quick-footed mason could use that road but what of my

people, the old and the infirm, the bent beggars and the small

children? They will never be able to scale the walls and reach

 

the ledge.'

 

Arachatt spread his rough calloused hands. 'There will be

space for all those who can reach the ledge; that is the we'

forwards for the strong, my Lord.'

 

King Holbian looked back along the tunnel to where the

first bedraggled city dwellers had halted, knee deep in the

cold black water, their few meagre possessions held above the

flood. He turned back to his mason. 'I am the last Granite

King of all the people of Elundium, the strong and the weak

and you, Mastermason, must fashion a way for us all. None

shall be left behind.'

 

'Not even the horses, my Lord?' Breakmaster cried oh

above the roaring waters.

 

'Not even the horses!' echoed the King, walking bacld

amongst his people, calling out the strong and the willing to

help the mason.

 

Arachatt frowned and muttered under his breath as he

resealed the wall, measuring with his fingerspan and dropping

a plumb line from the brink of the ledge down into the black

water. 'We will build a ramp,' he eventually shouted down Id

the King. 'It will be steep and slippery but it will lead us to the

 

'You are the Mastermason,' King Holbian shouted u

scrambling to the ledge. Angis nimbly followed him and be

to start clearing the stone choke. 'No, my Lady of Elundiun

 

232

 

he cried, putting his hand on her arm, 'this work is not for

your gentle hands.'

 

'I ord, I would wear my hands blunt to work beside my

King and win a road to the daylight.'

 

Holbian smiled down at her. 'You are Kingworthy, my

Lady, and I am proud to have you by my side.'

 

Arachatt measured and dressed each rough piece of stone

choke, before his helpers levelled them into position. Knuckles

became scuffed and bled raw before the ramp had risen

against the flooding waters.

 

'Bring the people forward!' Arachatt shouted. 'The rubble

from the ledge and the newly-built ramp has completely

dammed the river and the level will rapidly rise. There is not a

moment to waste.'

 

'What of the road beyond the river?' Holbian shouted,

pushing the last huge blocking boulder to the ledge. 'Surely

that will flood and drown us before we can escape?'

 

'No, my Lord,' Arachatt replied. 'Beyond, the road is above

this level and slopes steeply upwards, the water will fill the

secret road we have travelled, flooding it all the way back to

the Granite City. But hurry the people forward, my Lord, or

we will be trapped for ever.'

 

King Holbian gripped the mason's arm and quickly thanked

him. 'It is the greatest wonder in all Elundium,' he cried,

jumping down into the waist-deep water and urging the long

column of city folk forwards on to the ramp.

 

 

'Bring the children,' he shouted, 'for they are our tomorrowlights,

and then the old, they are the glories of yesterlights.

Keep order!'

 

Grey Goose led the people and Holbian frowned, searching

back along the dark tunnel, hurrying past the last

stragglers. 'Be quick! Hurry!' he ordered, lighting his spark

and letting a sigh of relief escape from his lips.

 

'Hurry, Breakmaster!' he called, running towards the

horseman, but Breakmaster was on his knees between

the two horses, shaking and crying with fear, the

 

233

 

 

whites oflhis eyes brighter than the winter's moon.

'Lord, I cannot'' he cried, looking into the King's face. 'I

have tried and tried to lead the horses forward but the fear

holds me back.'

 

Holbian sank on to his knees beside the horseman and put

his arms round his trembling shoulders. 'What fear? What

fear stops you, my brave champion?'

 

Breakmaster bent his head. 'The water, my Lord, I dread

it. I cannot walk for the fear.'

 

King Holbian smiled and held the horseman's head against

his chest. 'You gave me the strength in the darkness of the

siege and showed me the way, now I will lead you throughyour

greatest fear. Come, place your hand on Beacon Light's

shoulder for you gave her the courage to stand against the

shadows and she will not falter.'

 

King Holbian took a deep breath, unbuckled the steelsilver

coat and spread it across Breakmaster's shoulders. The music

in the fine shimmering metal held the hint of skylarks rising

up in search of the sun and it drowned out the boiling roar of

the rising water.

 

'Walk with me, friend!' the King shouted, as the raging

darkness closed about them, and he struggled to lead both

horses and the horseman forwards towards the ramp without

the warmth of the cloak.

 

The secret road became a cold and dangerous place full of:

strange noises and hideous shadows and the King shuddered

as his courage wavered. The ramp was in sight now but theswirling

waters had reached his chest and the rushing current

was threatening to sweep him clean off his feet. 'Hold on to

the reins!' he shouted to the terrified horseman as the horses

surged forwards on to the first rough stones of the ramp.

'Their strength will lift us clear of the water.'

 

Mulberry moved ahead of Beacon Light, scrambling up to

safety. Looking back the King saw that 13reakmaster's hands

were slipping on the reins, the water was closing over his

head. He was floundering on the brink of the ramp, dislodge

 

234

 

ing loose stones with his feet. 'We will lose him!' he cried,

looking desperately for Grey Goose, but the Archer could not

help, he was struggling to pull Mulberry out into the tunnel.

Drawing a deep breath Holbian let go of Mulberry's tail and

ducked beneath the water. Two giant steps backwards and he

caught hold of the horseman's arms and looped them through

Beacon Light's reins. Rising above the water he urged the

horses on.

 

'Pull us to safety!' he cried, clutching on the high cantle of

the saddle. He felt the water swirl over him as the horse

struggled up the last part of the steep ramp on to the narrow

ledge.

 

Grey Goose and Arachatt were waiting with strong hands

and helped the King pull Breakmaster up into the dry tunnel.

Breakmaster rose from his knees, choking and spitting out

mouthfuls of water, his fingers fumbling with the catch of the

steelsilver coat.

 

'Lord, you risked your life to save my skin!' he gasped.

 

Holbian laughed, knelt beside the exhausted horseman and

took his hand. 'Who will calm the horses and ready them for

battle? Who in all Elundium could do that as well as you, my

loyal Captain?'

 

Shaking the last drops of water out of the beautiful

steelsilver coat Breakmaster rose to his feet and gave it back to

the King. 'To serve you all my days would not repay the debt I

now owe you!' he said. 'For I know what courage it took to

face your fear and put this cloak about my shoulders.'

 

'There is no debt, friend, there never will be one between

us, for we are battle-tested in friendship and forged together

through our moments of great need.'

 

Looking up into the dark tunnel that stretched before them

 

 

the King pointed an age-bent finger. 'Grey Goose, lead us

forward out of this darkness!'

 

Rising to his feet the Archer necked an arrow on to his bow

and disappeared into the tunnel.

 

'Come, we must follow,' commanded the King, leading

 

235

 

 

Beacon Light forward past the waiting city folk.

 

'Lord, you have saved us!' the people cried out as the King

walked to the head of the column.

 

Angis fell into step with him, casting her warm shawl across

his shoulders. 'You have saved us all, my Lord, even the weak

and the humble, and they thank you. Listen to the praise in

their voices.'

 

Holbian laughed, rubbing his hand through Beacon Light's

wet mane. 'That is the real task set before Kings, to care for

all their people. Power and pomp are nothing but empty

moments; rising towers and palaces are empty shells; the

greatness of Elundium walks with me here in the dark.'

 

Angis nodded and made to drop back into her place.

 

'Walk with me,' Holbian called, 'and listen to the music in

the coat, for it tells of where the darkness ends and the new

daylight begins.'

 

'Lord, wherever you walk there will be sunlight, for you are

a King who loves his people,' she answered.

 

'If only I had discovered all this an age ago there would be

no Nightbeasts,' King Holbian sighed.

 

236

 

The First Shout of Silence

 

Thane murmured in his sleep and curled himself into a tight

ball against the cold, snuggling into Ousious' side under the

torn cloak. Ogion sat sentry-still nearby, staring out across

the blizzard-covered beach, past the sleeping forms of the

flock of swans, at the dark lake beyond. The ice had begun

to groan and crack yet there was no change in the weather.

Rising up, he waddled up the beach and fuelled the dying

fire, tossing broken beach wreckage on to the glowing

embers.

 

Thane opened his eyes, sat up and smiled at the Lord of

Swans. He stretched out his arms and stared at the bright

cotton thread sewn neatly across his wrist. Blinking he

frowned and remembered slashing his wrist to try to save

Ousious' life, but how did the coloured thread become sewn

across his wrist? Turning he felt under the half cloak at the

stiff blood-encrusted wound on Ousious' chest. She was

warm to his touch and her breast rose and fell with each

sleeping breath she took. Thane touched the rough stitches

he had sewn with strands from Stumble's mane and looked up

to the top of the beach where the horse grazed, hunched

against the weather.

 

'The Queen of Swans lives!' he shouted, before falling

back exhausted. Thane shivered beneath the cloak and closed

his eyes, too tired to worry about the rainbow thread, but the

creaking voice of the ice that lay thick across Swanwater made

him sit up again, 'Why does the ice move?' he asked, staring

 

237

 

 

238

 

out across the lake. 'Perhaps something unnatural is draining

the water,' he thought. He watched the buckling ice water

shatter under its own weight and collapse into the freezing

mud out in the centre of the lake.

 

'A great power is emptying the lake,' he said, turning his

wrist over and gazing at the coloured thread. 'Something as

great as the hand chat sewed up my wrist! Perhaps Nevian, the

Master of Magic!' Thane whispered, touching the thread and

feeling the warmth of a summer day flow through his numb

fingers. 'Perhaps he came and found me stranded on this

beach, weak from the loss of blood.'

 

Thane rose slowly to his feet, using a twisted waterbleached

branch to keep him steady. Dizzily he took one step

towards the shattered ice and sank to his knees.

 

Ogion hissed and flapped his wings, pushing him back

towards Ousious. 'Rest and become strong, you cannot follow

Krulshards until Ousious is strong enough to fly, for only she

knows the way.'

 

Thane turned back the corner of the cloak and gendy

stroked the soft downy feathers on Ousious' neck. 'Please tell

me, Queen of Swans, which way the Nightmare took Elionbel.'

 

 

Ousious stirred, moved her wings and straightened her

neck. Opening and- closing her bright orange beak she

brushed it against Thane's cheek.

 

'Where did the Nightmare run?' Thane asked, pressing his .

ear against her breast. Far away beyond the edge of the wind I

he could hear the whisper of her heart and faint murmurs of

 

the dark road through Meremire Forest.

 

Then Ogion pulled him away. 'Leave Ousious to rest, she

is weak and burdened with our fate. It was foretold long ago

when night first spread across Elundium chat the Queen of

Swans would lead us into silence. We did not know how dais

silence would begin, only chat it heralds the Nightmare's end,

or so the legend tells, for we are the grey swans of his dooms

That is why we called his name each time we flew across.

 

 

 

k

v

 

1

 

Elundium, searching without finding, looking without seeing,

for we feared the silence.'

 

'But the aged crones say you carry everyone's death in your

voices; that is why the people fear you.'

 

'Men are fools who seek Themselves in every shadow. If

they had listened to our voices they would have heard the

Nightmare's name.'

 

'But you resisted chasing the Nightmare when Nevian

asked you to show me his footprints!' Thane cried.

 

'Knowing your fate and meeting it are very different things.

Knowing that somehow your loved one will be struck mute is

not an easy path to follow.'

 

Thane looked across at the sleeping Queen and whispered,

'Was it Krulshard's black spear blade that struck her mute or

did I damage Ousious as I removed the broken splinter?'

 

Ogion shook his head. 'Fate drew us together, Thane, and

your skill and courage saved Ousious' life, for without your

blood she would have died. Each daylight as our slender

necks intertwine we will echo our love together, for with the

rising of the winter sun all our voices shall fall silent with that

of our Queen.'

 

'But how shall I find the Nightmare if you do not tell me

the way? Stumble cannot keep pace with you, we have

 

 

followed your voice Through all the wildlands.'

 

Ogion searched the night shadows, turning his head from

left to right. 'Ousious will show you the way when she is

strong enough to fly. Fear not what tomorrow may bring, be

patient until then.'

 

Thane put his head into his hands and wept, cursing

Krulshards for striking Ousious mute, and covered by despair,

he was blind to the black night passing through the grey

hours into a cold winter's dawn where the first rays of the

winter sun shone dully on Swanwater, melting the thick layer

of ice that lay across the mud. Thane searched the beach,

sifting the pebbles between his fingers.

 

'Where is the Nightmare's splinter of broken steel? Show

 

239

 

 

me where it fell so that I can destroy it in the fire,' he asked

Ogion.

 

Ogion looked up to the winter sun and opened and closed

his beak noiselessly then ran out across the ice, flapping his

wings.

 

'Your silence has started, and the cause of it is lost in the

mud of the lake. Well, it is as safe there as it is in the fire!'

Turning, he knelt beside Ousious and inspected the ugly

wound, testing the strength of the horsehair stitches. All

around him the flock of swans was moving along the beach

searching for food or laying fine down feather nests in shaded

dips or clumps of grey reeds that rattled in the chill morning

wind.

 

Ogion brought scraps of half-chewed fish and grass for '

Thane and Ousious to eat. Stumble trotted down off the

 

thinly-grassed bank and neighed, rubbing his muzzle on:,

Thane's arm.

 

Stumble whinnied and returned to grazing on the bank,

leaving Thane to sit in black brooding silence, feeding the

beach wreckage into the roaring fire while he watched the ice

slowly thaw. On the twenty-third daylight of silence Ousious

paddled out into Swanwater and, beating her wings on the

shallow cold muddy water, she slowly rose up into the air and

turned to the grasslands. Thane saddled Stumble and quickly

mounted him to follow the swans, cantering around the far

edge of the shallow lake. Wading through deep, sticky mud

they climbed on to the far bank that led to the desolate

grasslands. Waiting for Ousious to grow strong on the banks

of Swanwater had left Thane weak from the bitter cold and'

the lack of whole nourishing food and he slipped into a dizzy

exhausted half sleep in the saddle as Stumble carried him

forwards. Driving rain brought him back to his senses long

after darkness had fallen. The horse had halted inside a thinly

clump of brambles where sharp thorns cut through his ragged

shirt and breeches. Dismounting carefully he spread his wed

 

cloak across the top of the lowest bramble bush and crepe

240

 

shivering beneath it. Stumble lay down beside him and Thane

rested his head on the horse's warm shoulder and quickly fell

asleep.

 

They awoke, stiff and aching, to a cold wet drizzle that

misted the horizon and clung to the grey stalks of winter grass

in long glistening drops. Stumble lifted his head, sniffed at

the morning damp air and flattened his ears against the side of

his head.

 

'What is it?' Thane whispered, peering cautiously through

the rain-soaked tangle of brambles. 'Nigh/beasts!' he hissed,

crouching back against the ground. 'Nightbeasts are all

around us!'

 

The dull tramp of clawed feet and the harsh rattle of foul

armour drew closer and closer. Thane unsheathed his dagger

and looked desperately for a gap between the Nightbeasts. 'If

they discover us we must try and dodge between them. They

are almost blind in the daylight and attack by following

sounds.'

 

Stumble snorted, arching his neck and accidentally caught

his mane in the thorns. By pulling back and violently shaking

the thicket he broke free. Thane gripped the sharp thorns in

his hands and stilled the bush but it was too late, the nearest

Nightbeast had turned at the sound, his spear blade raised to

strike. Roaring he took a step closer. Thane shrank back,

waiting for the spear blade to cut through the brambles and

peered past the advancing Nightbeast into the drifting drizzle

mist.

 

'We must run,' he hissed, slipping his leg over the saddle

and getting ready to spring forwards.

 

Suddenly two fleeting shapes flanked by huge Border

Runners broke through the mist. Arrows sang in the air and

the nearest Nightbeast screamed, driving his blade harmlessly

into the ground as he collapsed. Roaring and screaming, the

mass of Nightbeasts swarmed after the two shadowy figures as

 

 

they melted back into the mist. Thane laughed and quickly

dismounted, putting his ear to the damp earth. Faint hoof

 

241

 

 

aagainst the weather.

 

'We are lost,' he muttered, blinking the water out of his eyes

as he searched the low dark sky for the swans. Turning in the

saddle, Thane saw dark shapes breast the horizon and start

crossing towards them. 'The Nightbeasts are everywhere!' he

cried, pulling at the reins with numb fingers t o turn the horse

and find a place to hide.

 

Stumble stretched his neck and cantered for league after

league through the long grass until ahead of them the

grasslands broke into low tree-crested ridges of barren earth.

Between the first two ridges Thane found a narrow reedfilled

gully. Dismounting he led Stumble in amongst the reeds to hide

but the ground quickly became marshy and too soft for the

horse to go anywhere; he was sinking into the mud. Retreating a

few strides Thane commanded him to wait. Unsheathing his

dagger he began to cut armfuls of reeds and laid them in a

crisscross pattern where the oozing mud was, firmest, in the

centre of the gully. Taking the last bundle of cut reeds he wove

them, just as he had seen his mother weave rush mats, threading

and pulling each reed until it was bound tightly to the next.

Walking back across the mat he took the reins over Stumble's

head and led him forwards.

 

The mat swayed with each reluctant footstep and blaclC mud

oozed up between the reeds, but it held their weight: 'Lie down!'

Thane hissed, touching Stumble's knee with al cold muddy

hand. Clearly he could hear the tramp of mailed feet and the

rattle of armour above the noise of the pouring rain and the

wind moaning through the tall reed stems

 

242

 

.~

 

beats made the ground tremble, taking the Nightbeasts away from

the bramble thicket in a wide circle. Leaping to his feet, he urged

Stumble out of the brambles into the wet grass. ;*

 

'Run, Stumble, run!' he cried, jumping into the saddle and

fuming the horse away from the Nightbeast screams into the

long grass, and he did not rest or ease the pace until well after

noon. The drizzle worsened into heavy rain and Thane hunched

his shoulders and fumed his soaking cloak collar up

 

Crawling back to the edge of the mat he pushed their path a

cut reeds aside, forcing it beneath the treacherous mud.

 

'Lie down or the Nightbeasts will see you. They are to'

heavy to follow us into this marsh and will pass us if we art

hidden; lie down.'

 

,~  Stumble nickered softly and trembled with fear but he teen

 

his forelegs. Thane pushed firmly on the cantle of the saddle

and the horse sank down on to the mat. Cold black muc

bubbled up along his side and he snorted, struggling agains

Thane's hand to stand. The whites of his eyes were wide with

panic.

 

'Steady, Stumble,' he whispered, caressing the horse's

shoulder. 'The mat takes our weight.' Stumble shifted his head

and rubbed his muzzle on Thane's amm. 'The Nightbeasts are

near us now,' Thane whispered. 'We must lie still until they

have gone.'

 

Stumble slowly lowered his head until his chin was resting in

the cold black mud and Thane spread the dirty cloak across

them both. He laid his head wearily on Stumble's shoulder and

fought off the waves of sleep that were pulling at his eyelids.

Reaching back into his pocket he pulled out the little silver

finger bowl that the Nightmare had famished and spoiled, and

brought it to his lips.

 

'I will find you, Elionbel, I will never give up,' he whispered,

tracing her name with a dirty cracked fingernail along the rim of

the cup.

 

The rain had eased with the coming of evening but now as

darkness fell it became a roaring torrent that pattered on the

cloak and drummed on the mat of reeds. Thane moved as close

to Stumble as he could, feeling the layer of sticky mud pull at

his rough shirt as he fell asleep.

 

 

243

 

 

Sharp Eyes in the Grasslands

 

Hunger and pain blurred together and the noise of the rain on

the reeds drowned out the noise of men and horses crossing

the low ridges on the heels of the Nightbeasts. 'There is no

danger here,' Tombel had shouted. 'I can smell the Nightbeasts

on the evening wind and they have gone before us into

the grasslands.'

 

Gathering his Captains he had warned them to cross well

clear of the marsh gullies, using only the high ground. 'Lord,

Lord,' a Marcher on the edge of the great crescent of warriors

had shouted just before nightfall, 'there are two riders

approaching. One rides on a mighty stag, before them two

 

Border Runners search the ground.'     .

 

Tombel had halted the crescent half a league beyond the

first earth ridge and set the Marchers and Gallopers int o

battle order, taking the centre of the field as his own while he .

w ited for the riders. Wiping the trickles of rain water out of

his eyes he laughed and threw his Marching sword high into

the dark night air.

 

'Kyot, Kyot,'he cried, running forwards as the Archer rode

into the circle of their torchlight, but frowning he turned his

eyes on Eventine, quickly took off his metal helm and bowed.

'Are you the Lady of Clatterford?' he whispered, offering he r

the hilt of his Marching sword.

 

Smiling, Eventine jumped to the ground and lightIy

touched Tombel's hand. 'Great is the legend of the

Lord of Marchers,' she said, 'for he hunts Night

 

244

 

Hi

 

l

 

it.

 

beasts in all Elundium without rest.'

 

'Greater still is the legend of the fair Lady of Clatterford,

who has tamed the Lord of Stags as her mount,' he replied,

sheathing his sword.

 

Eventine laughed, putting her hand through Tanglecrown's

huge set of crystal-tipped antlers on to his velvet forehead.

'He is free, my Lord, and serves no master or mistress; we

hunt the Nightbeasts together, side by side.'

 

Tombel smiled, stepping forwards. 'We run on their heels,

Lady, night and day, without rest. They are before us now.'

 

Kyot frowned. 'You say they are before you?'

 

Tombel nodded, pointing past Kyot's shoulder into the

darkness.

 

Eventine stepped back two paces and knelt beside the

Border Runners, her hand on the ground. 'We have been

following the tracks of a single horse for one daylight through

the wet grass, but if the Nightbeasts crossed here they must

have killed it.'

 

Tombel turned and called his Captains forward, but each

one in turn shook his head when asked if they had seen a

horse wandering alone.

 

Eventine turned and walked to the edge of the torchlight,

pulling her cloak tight against the rain. 'Where are the two

travellers?' she whispered to Rockspray who perched forlornly,

soaked through, on her shoulder.

 

She sighed and returned to Kyot's side and listened eagerly

as Tombel told of the wreck of Granite City and the vanished

King, but her eyes grew wet with tears as he told of

Krulshards' attack on Woodsedge and the loss of his wife and

daughter and of Arbel's capture as he tried to follow them.

 

'I will not rest until every Nightbeast is slaughtered,'

Tombel concluded, grimly, ordering his Captains back into

 

 

the crescent to ready the warriors for a night's march.

 

'Will you not wait and rest until morning?' Eventine asked,

but Tombel shook his head.

 

'These Nightbeast tracks.will grow cold. We dare not wait.'

 

245

 

 

aKyot gripped Tombel's hand and asked him quietly if he

could take the crescent of warriors towards Clatterford and

keep it safe from the Nightbeast attack. 'Fairday is forging glass

arrow-heads for us to use against the Nightmare and he needs

as many daylights as we can win.'

 

'Not one Nightbeast claw shall touch the lawns of Clauerford,'

Tombel cried, leading the warriors forwards. ~

 

Kyot and Eventine stood hand in hand watching the.. slowmoving

crescent with its flickering torchlight fade int o

 

the grasslands.

 

'Clatterford will be safe now,' Kyot whispered, calling Sprint

to his side and gathering the reins into his hand. 'Let us ride on

and find shelter from this bitter rain.'

 

Eventine hesitated, looking across the dark bulk of the low

ridges. 'No, Kyot,' she whispered, taking his hand again and:

removing it from the reins. 'There is something here, l can feel it.

Look, the Border Runners are restless and cast around us in

circles; they can scent something. We must wait for the new

daylight and then search.'

 

Kyot smiled at her in the darkness and spread his cloak over

them both. 'If the two travellers passed this way you wil I find

their tracks, I know it.'

 

Sprint and Tanglecrown grazed on the steep slope of the first

ridge while Kyot and Eventine sat beneath a makeshift canopy

made from their cloaks that they had stretched between the

bows of Orm and Clatterford. They sat looking out across the

darkened gully, listening to the rattle of the rain on the winter

black reeds.

 

Kyot turned his head and for a moment he gazed at

Eventine's still silhouette. 'Will you come with me to the Tower

of Stumble Hill when the Nightmare is dead?' he asked.

 

Eventine turned to him in the darkness and rested her head

on his shoulder. 'Nothing will ever part us. Not even the

darkness of the Nightmare, Krulshards,' she whispered.

 

Kyot lifted his hand and gently caressed her tangled

 

246

 

~

 

hair. Long after Eventine had fallen asleep against his shoulder

Kyot sat staring out into the rain, knowing a little of how Thane

had felt after he had met Elionbel and seeing some of the pain

he must be suffering now that the Nightmare had taken her.

Eventine moved, snuggling closer without waking. The grey

hours had come and Kyot shivered, looking down at the

glistening wind-bent reeds that showed in the half light. 'I will

find the Nightmare, and rid Elundium of his foul shadow for

ever,' he whispered, touching the arrows packed tightly into his

quiver.

 

Eventine awoke with the first light of dawn, stretched stimy

and looked out from beneath the cloak at the pouring rain. Dark

shapes crossed the line of the barren ridges, flying close to the

ground. 'The grey swans of doom!' she whispered, pointing up

at the swans as they flew overhead.

 

'They call out the dead,' Kyot answered in fear, covering his

ears and turning his head away.

 

Eventine laughed, and tugged at his arm. 'These swans are

not grey. At least, the leader has a snow-white breast. Listen,

they fly without making a sound.'

 

Kyot lifted his head and watched the swans flying from gully

to gully. It was true, their leader was white. 'They are searching

for something,' he whispered, lifting Rockspray up. 'Fly with

them, search the gullies.'

 

Eventine stood up, took her cloak from the bows and shook

it, scattering rain drops across the steep hillside. Ousious flew

low across the reed bed, twisting her head from side to side.

Eventine shook Kyot's arm. The owl sees something in the

reed beds. Look!'

 

 

Ousious descended into the gully, wheeling and turning

slowly across the place where Thane lay, crying out his name

with her silent voice. Rockspray stooped beside her shrieking

in the dawn light. Eventine shaded her eyes against the

stinging rain and stared out at the winter black reeds. 'There's

something there, in the reed bed,' she said, quickly drawing a

glass-tipped arrow and necking it on to her bow.

 

247

 

 

aSprint had lifted his head as the swans flew over and::

neighed as if calling to a lost friend. Tanglecrown pawed at the

wet grass and cantered down to where Eventine stood. Kyot

shook out his cloak, flung it across his shoulders and ran into the

shadows of the gully, his hand on the feather flight of an arrow.

 

The gully had become treacherously swollen from the heavy

rainfall and Kyot sank almost to his knees in the black mud on

the edge of the reeds. 'Nothing could live in there,' he called

over his shoulder as Eventine ran to join him. 'Be careful where

you tread.'

 

Eventine suddenly stopped and knelt. 'Look, look at this!'

 

Kyot retreated out of the mud and looked down over her

shoulder at a neat hoofprint in the soft earth. Stepping forward

he found another, then another, right on the very edge of the

reeds.

 

Sighing sadly he turned to Eventine. 'The horse we followed

must have wandered into the gully and been swallowed by the

marsh.'

 

Eventine shivered and began to turn away, pulling the hood

of her cloak up over her wet hair against the weather, but

something made her stop.

 

Something in the reed bed glittered in the grey morning light.

'Kyot, what is that?' she cried, pointing.

 

Kyot followed her hand, balancing on tiptoe to see between

the reeds. 'There is a dark shape on the surface of the marsh!'

he said, uncertainly, stepping back and steadying Eventine on

the edge of the reeds while she peered through the tall stems.

 

'Tanglecrown, stand for me,' Eventine asked as she sprang up

into the saddle and looked over the top of the reeds. 'There is a

clearing, the reeds have been cut and woven into a mat. It is

floating on the surface of the mud with two figures lying on it. I

think one of them is a horse. Wait! Something shines on the

mat, something shines with the glint of beaten silver. ~

 

Kyot scrambled up on to Sprint's saddle and peered oui

 

248

 

into the reeds following Eventine's pointing finger. 'Search for

me, Rockspray!' he urged, calling to the owl who hovered

silently into the air above the gully.

 

Stumble heard Kyot's voice sending the owl to look for them

and tried to raise his head but the sticky black mud held him

stuck fast on to the mat. Stumble's struggles woke Thane from

his dark feverish dreams and he fought to open his mud-heavy

eyelids. Far away he could hear a familiar voice above the rattle

of the rain. Blinking, he looked up at the owl.

 

'Rockspray,' he cried, weakly, lifting the hand that held the

finger bowl. 'Find Kyot and tell him ... tell him that the

Nightmare has taken Elionbel.'

 

Thane's hand began to sink back into the mud at his side but

as the base of the finger bowl touched the mud Rockspray's

talons hooked around the rim and he took it, pulling it free of

Thane's weakening grip, taking it up into the rainswept sky,

beyond the tall circle of reeds.

 

Thane smiled, tears running down his dirty face. 'Kyot will

rescue Elionbel,' he whispered, using the last of his strength to

lift his hand and stroke his horse's neck. 'He will take up the

task we cannot finish.'

 

Stumble suddenly freed his head from the mud and lifting it,

he neighed as loudly as he could, his flanks shaking from the

effort.

 

Rockspray stooped to Kyot, delivering the finger bowl into

his hands. Kyot lifted the little silver bowl and traced the fine

letters engraved around the rim, then looking up he shouted at

the top of his voice. 'THANK! THANK!'

 

He jumped down from Sprint's back and passed the bowl to

Eventine and waded out into the reeds, but with each stride he

sank deeper and deeper, clutching and breaking the tough reed

 

 

stems in an effort to reach his friend.

 

'Wait!' Eventine called, dropping the cup into her safest

pocket. 'You will be sucked under the mud if you go any

further. Come back.'

 

Kyot struggled and scrambled back on to the bank. 'We

 

249

 

 

must rescue them. We are like brothers, we must .. .'

 

Eventine gripped his shoulders and tried to calm him. 'We

cannot cross the marsh; the rain has made it much too

treacherous even to lay a reed path. Somehow we must bring

them to the bank, there must be a way.'

 

'But Thane may be only moments away from death. The

reed mat may be sinking.'

 

Eventine put a finger on Kyot's lips and pressed him into

silence. Reaching back into her quiver she withdrew the only

steel-bladed arrow she carried, barbed and hooked behind

the tip. Unbuckling the pouch on Tanglecrown's saddle she

lifted out a fine silken rope of twisted strands of glass nO

thicker than a needle thread, and carefully tied an end around

the barbs.

 

'Do you trust Thane's life in my hands?' she asked,

springing up on to Tanglecrown's saddle and necking the

arrow on to her bowstring. Kyot smiled and reached up to

touch her hand.

 

'Your aim is clear-sighted and true. I would put my own life

0ryour hands, beautiful Lady of Clatterford.'

 

She looked along the spine of the arrow, choosing her

moment as the reeds bent in the wind. Easing the arrow she

looked down and asked Kyot to tie the loose end of the glass

rope on to Sprint's saddle and lead him up on to the slope

above the gully. After Kyot had secured the rope she took a

deep breath and tried to calm her shaking fingers, hearing her

father's words echoing in her head. 'Do not pass them by ore

all Elundium will fall into shadow.'

 

Blinking just once she drew the arrow back and released it

into the reeds. Thane laughed as he heard the arrow sing its

way through the reeds and cut into the mat at his feet, sinker

with a dull splash through the layer of mud that had seeped up

between the weaving.

 

'Kyot has found us!' he cried as the silken rope went taul

and the mat began to move towards the bank. Sprint arched

his neck and pulled hard, urged on by Kyot as the head

 

250

 

)

5

l

 

.

 

1

/

i

 

A:

 

mud-laden mat broke down the reed stems in its path.

Tanglecrown hooked his antlers on to the rope and pulled

beside the little horse but the mat twisted and turned,

bumping into the tough reed stems, and the barbed arrowhead

was tearing through the reed mat. Eventine took the

reins from Kyot and sent him back to the edge of the reeds.

'Wade out as far as you can and cut them a path. Be quick!'

she whispered.

 

'Thane, Thane!' Kyot shouted, wading out as far as he

dared, cutting through the tough reed stems to ease the

passage of the mat. Closer and closer it came, pushing a small

wave of mud before it. Kyot reached out and caught hold of

the edges of the mat, his strong fingers tearing through the

reeds as he brought it to the safety of the bank.

 

'Thane, oh Thane,' he cried, seeing the ragged mudblackened

figure struggling to crawl towards him. With strong

hands he quickly lifted him and laid him on the bank and cast

his cloak over him. Turning back he cried out in horror to see

Stumble slipping off the sinking mat into the marsh. Running

on to the mat he cut the glass rope and tied it around the

pommel of Stumble's vanishing saddle.

 

'Pull, Sprint, pull!' he shouted, grabbing at the reins to

 

 

keep the horse's head above the mud. 'Pull, or Stumble will

sink.'

 

Tanglecrown and Sprint dug in their hooves and, shoulder

to shoulder, edged forwards. Eventine ran back to the gully

and took the reins from Kyot while he waded, waist deep in

the sticky mud, and helped the floundering horse with both

hands. Eventually Stumble scrambled wearily on to firm

ground on the edge of the marsh and clambered up on the

bank.

 

'You are safe!' Kyot cried with relief, stripping the filthy

saddle and bridle from the exhausted horse. Sprint cantered

to Stumble's side, snorting and whinnying in greeting as the

muddy horse shook himself and pulled on a mouthful of

grass.

 

251

 

 

Eventine and Kyot knelt at Thane's side and gently pulled

back the cloak. 'He is bone thin, and near to death,' Kyot

whispered. 'We must get him to shelter out of this rain.'

 

'He needs wholesome food and a good fire to warm him

through,' Eventine added, calling Tanglecrownto come to

her. 'We must get him to Clatterford without delay. I will ride

ahead of you and warn my father,' she said as she sprang on to

Tanglecrown's back.

 

Kyot made to rise as Eventine cantered away but Thane

clung weakly to his hand. 'The Nightmare has Elionbel. I

must find the grey swans and follow them. They will show me

the way.'

 

Kyot smiled down at Thane. 'The grey swans have been

flying over the marsh led by a beautiful swan with a white

breast; they have been flying since dawn drove the night away.

They led us to where you lay.'

 

'Were they silent?' Thane asked anxiously. .

 

Kyot nodded. 'Again and again they swooped silently

through the gully, brushing their wing tips on the top of the

reeds.'

 

Thane sighed and turned over his wrist to show Kyot the

fine rainbow thread. 'Ousious is the Queen of the grey swans;

she ...' Thane's head slumped forward as dark drearm

overtook him and he slept in the warmth of Kyot's cloak. Kyo

hurriedly cut two wind-blown boughs from the trees on tla'

top of the ridge and using the glass rope and Thane's ragge

half-cloak he made a rough stretcher which he attached t'

Sprint's saddle, binding it tight with his stirrup leathers. Hi

tied Thane on to the stretcher and called Stumble to follow

Mounting Sprint he rode as fast as he could through the tad

wet grass, following the clear track Tanglecrown had left.

 

'Guard Stumble,' he called to the Border Runners as the

fanned out on either side of the exhausted horse. Sprig;

arched his neck and, pulling hard on the makeshift harness

he cantered as fast as he dared through the waist-high gram

 

closing the gap to Clatterford with each measured stride.

 

252

 

Light at the Erld of the Secret Road

 

'Daylight, Lord! Daylight!' Grey Goose cried, shaking King

Holbian's shoulder.

 

'Daylight?' mumbled the King, slowly opening his eyes and

looking up at the Archer. For what had seemed an age beyond

counting he had bravely led the city folk along the secret road,

but little by little the darkness and the cold had crept beneath

the steelsilver cloak, weakening his ancient bones.

 

'Yes, Lord, less than half a league further the city folk are

waiting for you to lead them out.'

 

Holbian carefully took offhis battle gloves and stared at the

maze of fractures and hairline cracks that had spread across

his fingers. Lifting his hands he touched his cheeks and

forehead, scratching at the pattern of cracks. 'I am old and

brittle, Captain,' he whispered, 'and I am turning back into

stone. I cannot go forwards.'

 

'Lord, the people will not go into the daylight without you.'

Grey Goose bit his lip and knelt beside the King. 'They have

grown to love you, great King. They love you so much they

would turn their backs on the sunlight.'

 

Holbian made to rise, then sank back against the tunnel

wall. 'I have led them this far but I can go no further. Take the

people out and shout our victory to the limits of the sky. I will

hear the shout and know I did not fail.'

 

'Lord,' Breakmaster cried, bringing the stonemason to the

King's side, 'let us help you.'

 

'I am turning to stone!' the King hissed. 'Each movement

 

253

 

 

makes me weaker. Without the steelsilver cloak I would have

fractured long ago into thousand of pieces. Leave me here

rest my last few moments and dream of the daylight I cann

see.'

 

'Lord,' ventured Arachatt, the mason, moving closer to th

King, 'let me try and make you strong enough to see th

daylight.'

 

Holbian frowned at Arachatt's outstretched hands, b

slowly gave the mason his hand. Arachatt smiled. Opening

heavy leather pouch that hung at his waist, he scooped ot

a handful of fine stone dust. Taking a pinch of stone th

mason mixed it with a few drops of water leaking from

fissure in the tunnel wall and kneaded it to a thick paste. H

worked it into the maze of cracks in the King's hen

smoothing and wiping the surface of each fmger with a silo

trowel. 'There, Lord,' he whispered, letting the King lift th

 

hand.

 

Holbian gazed at the hand, bent the fingers and made

 

clench the fist.

 

'Easy, Lord, the stone dust needs time to settle and~bon

But it should make you strong enough for many daylights

 

Holbian smiled, offering his other hand to the mason. 'Ye

are a Lord amongst masons to have such magic at your find

tips; twice now you have helped me towards the daylight. Ad

and all shall be yours.'

 

'Lord, I carry no magic, only a bag of dust from the ruins

the great granite wall that once surrounded the city. IT

fitting that it should now help you back into the sunlight

Arachatt replied, squeezing the stone paste into the cracks

the other hand and smoothing it between the fingers.

 

Holbian sighed and settled back against the wall to li

Arachatt work the stone paste into the fractures of his fat

and neck. It tingled and itched, drawing the brittle skin tigl

as it dried. Arachatt wet his fingers with spittle and smooth)

over the last few hairline cracks in the King's eyelids and s

back, nervously, on his haunches. Breakmaster held up

 

254

 

polished knuckle of armour and the King laughed in the

feeble sparks of light as he looked at his face. Turning his

head from left to right, he felt suns younger and ready to face

the light.

 

Taking Arachatt's hand he rose to his feet and thanked the

mason. Pausing a moment, his hand on Beacon Light's

saddle, he said, 'I said ask and all will be yours, but in truth I

have nothing to offer you. I carry the Kingdom about my

shoulders and my pockets are empty.'

 

Arachatt laughed, helping the King into the saddle. 'Lord,

to have reached the end of this dark road is enough, but

beware, for I have only hidden the fractures, I do not have the

power to make you young again.'

 

Holbian reached down and gripped the mason's arm. 'It

will last to journey's end, I know it will.'

 

'Journey's end, Lord?' asked the mason, hurrying after the

King as he trotted the last stretch of darkness, but the King

did not reply, he was lost in the cheering as he trotted out into

the bright sunlight on to a wild grassy slope.

 

'Granite King!' shouted a voice from the top of the bank,

stopping the King's headlong rush out of the secret road.

 

The King turned and stared up the bank, blinking his eyes

against the light, his hands closing on the hilt of his sword.

'Chancellors!' he snarled, spurring Beacon Light forwards.

 

Proudpurse laughed, and with a sweep of his hand he

motioned the treacherous warriors out of hiding behind the

bank into a tight line before the King. 'We heard you creeping

along behind us,' sneered Proudpurse, 'but the broken bridge

should have stopped you and drowned you in darkness.'

 

 

Holbian turned the point of his sword at the Chancellor

and tried to force a passage through the warriors, but much as

they hesitated to strike the King they would not let him pass.

 

Proudpurse took a Marcher's long spear and stepped

towards the King. 'For suns beyond counting I have sat on the

steps of your throne and dreamed of this daylight. Now you

shall die and I will have all Elundium in my hand.'

 

255

 

 

a'Stay, my Lord,' Grey Goose cried out, necking an arrow ~

to his bow and taking aim at the Chancellor's heart.

 

Proudpurse laughed cruelly, pointing at his strike of box

men. 'You are defeated, Archer, and dead if you do not tin

your bow. The last Granite King has reached the end of h

road and stands all alone.'

 

'He is not alone!' cried Breakmaster, lowering his spa and

urging Mulberry forward.

 

Proudpurse sneered and called his Gallopers out to fax the

single horseman. 'Abandon your King. Look how ma' stand

against you, but if you kneel at my feet there is a plan for you

amongst my horsemen. Come forward, Breakrnaste

 

and join the new rulers of Elundium.'

 

Breakmaster spat on the ground and dug his spurs in,

 

Mulberry's sides, driving him forward.

 

'No! No!' shouted the King, raising his hand to stop

Breakmaster's reckless charge. 'I will parley and strike a bargain

for the people of the Granite City before blood is spilt.'

 

'Parley?' laughed Chancellor Overlord. ~

 

'Bargain!' sneered Proudpurse. You have nothing to bar-. gain

with. Your life is worth less than the sharp stone that honed my

spear blade.'

 

King Holbian sat easily in the saddle letting the sunshine

warm his face. Laughing, he held the Chancellor's eyes, 'There

is more to Kingship than just taking a crown, surely my wise

Chancellors know that. I do not deal with you for my life, but for

the future of the people of Elundium.'

 

Turning in the saddle he swept his arm across the city

dwellers that knelt in neat lines in front of the entrance to the

secret road, the weapons they had taken from the armoury held

steady in their hands. 'They will be your inheritance if you kill

me. They are the future of Elundium.'

 

Chancellor Proudpurse hesitated. He had expected rage of

anger, even fear, m the aged King, but not this strength of

purpose in the city folk that stood behind him. Their grim and

 

256

 

angry faces mocked at his treachery and made him stand back a

pace.

 

'We will kill your city folk. All of them,' he cried. 'Elundium

will belong to the Chancellors and those they choose to share

it with.'

 

'Then you will have nothing,' answered the King quietly,

'nothing at all, for the warriors you whispered into treachery are

beyond trust and will in turn betray you at the first twist of fate.

It is you who stands alone through your own black thoughts

and deeds. It is you who totters on the edge of defeat.'

 

'You lie!' screamed Proudpurse. 'It is you who stands alone

to die! Those so-called warriors will not fight, they are servers,

Candlemen, the scum of the lower circles of the city.'

 

King Holbian laughed and lifted his hand for silence. 'It

matters not which circle they came from, the Nightbeasts

levelled the city and made us one. But we are not alone, listen

to the changing wind, brave Chancellors, for it whispers out

your fate in sweet music. Listen.'

 

Proudpurse frowned and lowered his spear. Listening, he

turned his head from left to right. Faint on the wind it came as

horse bells on a summer breeze.

 

'Look about you, traitors,' shouted Grey Goose, bending his

bow, 'and see the warriors who are true to the King.'

 

Proudpurse spun round and dropped the spear, falling on to

his knees in terror as he saw the bright glitter of Dawnrise's

steelsilver coat and the shadow of a forest of spears ascending

the bank. Errant let his hand fall to his side and the Nighthorses

 

 

of Underfall swept forwards in a fast-moving crescent,

galloping beside the Warhorses. The thunder of their hooves

drowned out the Chancellor's screams and the cries of the

treacherous warriors who, as the King foretold, turned their

weapons on the Chancellors, felling them before the

Nighthorses could check their pace.

 

Silverpurse, Proudpurse's son, had been collecting kindling

wood in a nearby copse, heard the thunder of hooves and saw

 

257

 

 

his father fall, speared and arrow-struck by their own band o)

warriors. Ducking out of sight he dropped the wood and]

crawled deep into the undergrowth and watched the terrible

slaughter as the Nighthorses trampled his father's warriors

underfoot. Again and again they charged until the riders'

spear shafts were blood wet.

 

'You will pay dearly for this daylight,' Silverpurse hissed

between clenched teeth as he watched Errant dismount

before the King and offer up the hilt of his bloody sword.

 

Holbian dismounted and embraced Errant, laughing and

laughing until the tears ran down his cheeks. 'Captain o]

Captains, our lives were on such slender threads!'

 

Errant smiled and pointed a gloved fist at the wide crescent

of spearmen spread across the bank. 'We were hunting

Nightbeasts, Lord, throughout these wild lands and were

drawn by the smoke from the Chancellors' cooking fires. We

were about to attack when you emerged from that dark hole in

the ground.'

 

'And not a moment too soon!' laughed Breakmaster,

jumping to the ground and gripping Errant's arm.

 

Holbian frowned, looking from the slaughtered warriors ta

the Chancellors' twisted bodies. 'Hate, I fear, will feed on

this,' he said quietly, summoning the Loremaster forwarded

and cutting the bonds on his wrists.

 

'This is the price of their treachery,' he said, pointing down

at the Chancellors. 'Look on it, Loremaster, and learn well,

for what you see is the work of a moment's awful judgement.

You would lie with them if they had not abandoned you

before they fled, but I will not add your death to this day ol

grief. Thus I shall spare your life that you may teach others

the dangers of treachery and falsehood.'

 

Pinchface looked nervously from face to face. 'Thank you

my Lord,' he whispered, retreating a step.

 

Errant laughed and drew his sword. Grey Goose nocked an

arrow on to his bow. :

 

'No!' commanded the King, putting his hand on Errant''

 

258

 

_  ; .

 

arm. 'We have blooded this daylight enough, there is much

knowledge in the Loremaster's head, knowledge that we

would be fools to waste.'

 

'To spare him is a dangerous move, my Lord,' muttered

Breakmaster, the tip of his long spear a handspan from the

Loremaster's throat. 'He has betrayed you once and could

easily do so again.'

 

'Then let him prove his new loyalty to us, let him win our

respect through his true teachings of the world before the

destruction of the Granite City,' answered the King.

 

Breakmaster shrugged his shoulders and turned away,

unbuckling Mulberry's girths. 'Black days,' he muttered,

moving to the entrance of the secret road to marshal the city

folk out into the sunshine.

 

King Holbian ordered the Loremaster to be given a shovel.

'Dig graves for the Chancellors. Bury them deep without a

post or a stone to mark the place where they lie for they are

nothing but a black memory.'

 

Turning, the King strode up the bank to the top and

breathed in the clean sun-sparkling air. 'Elundium!' he

whispered. Beckoning Errant up on to the bank he said, 'Tell

me, Captain, how do things stand in the beautiful sunshine of

Elundium?'

 

Errant frowned and pointed down to the dust-weary

Nighthorses with their torn battle coats, and ragged warriors

snatching a moment out of the saddle. 'We hunt the Nightmare,

Krulshards, my Lord; without rest we chase his foul

shadow across this land.'

 

 

'Krulshards!' cried the King, his face fading to ash grey, his

aged hand clutching at the hilt of his sword.

 

'Yes, Lord,' whispered Errant, drawing closer. 'The army I

gathered along the Greenway's edge fought and won a great

battle on the high plateau before the Gates of Night. They

defeated the Nightmare and Thanehand chased him into the

darkness.'

 

'Thanehand!' the King cried, 'the Candleman's son, the

 

259

 

 

aboy I sent to Underfall? He entered the darkness?'

 

'Lord, he ran on the Nightmare's heels' but in the darknes7, he

lost Krulshards. In a high chamber he found Thoronhan his

grandfather, and brought him back into the light.'

 

'Thoron! Thoronhand, my last Errant rider!' Holbia cried,

sweeping his sword aloft.

 

Turning towards the city folk who were resting at th bottom of

the bank he called for Angishand and summone her up into the

sunshine. 'Thane is alive!' he laughe embracing Angis and lifting

her off her feet, 'and he foun Thoronhand, my last Errant rider,

and freed him from the darkness.' .

 

Angis fell weeping on to her knees, the sunlight sparkling

the tears that ran down her cheeks. 'Lord, are they safe?' she

whispered, clutching at the hems of her shawl.

 

'Tell me more,' urged Holbian, turning back to Errant. 'Tell me

how Krulshards escaped into Elundium.'

 

Errant took the King's hand and knelt before him. 'Lord, he

broke out into Elundium through the vaults that lie beneath the

fortress of Underfall. It is whispered that he ha the love token

that Thane carried into battle and seek Elionbel, Tombel's

daughter, in revenge, for her name wa engraved on the token.'

 

'Revenge?' whispered the King, frowning, 'why does h seek

revenge? When all Elundium is on the brink of darknes he

should be leading the Nightbeast army spreading destrue tion,

not seeking revenge.'

 

'Lord,' Errant answered, 'Thane entered the City of Nigl after

he had led the warriors to victory before the gates. He i not

afraid of Krulshards or the darkness.'

 

'Only Kings can walk in the dark,' Holbian whisperer turning

his head to look at Angishand twisting the hem of he cloak

between her fingers. 'He walks in the dark and carries summer

scarf woven from emblem thread - old legends ad coming to

life.' King Holbian sat down heavily on the grass bank, and

rested his chin in his hands. 'Tell me

 

260

 

Thanehand and all that has come to pass at Underfall. Start

with the moment you broke free from the siege-locked Granite

City and raised the army along the Greenway's edge. Tell me

every twist and turn that I may see which path to tread for we

may yet have a new King in Elundium. I must know all there is

to know so that I can play my fading part as the last Granite

King.'

 

'Lord, you have many daylights yet!' cried Errant.

 

Holbian smiled and stripped off his battle gloves to show

where the fine cracks had appeared again. 'I age, brave Captain,

it is only the mason's skill that keeps me from turning into

brittle stone. I am beyond my time, so tell me quickly of all that

has happened.'

 

The Chancellors' rekindled cooking fires blazed in the

darkness below the bank before Errant had told the King all he

knew, and left him staring out across the wild landscape.

 

'I must travel to Underfall,' King Holbian said quietly, getting

to his feet. 'For that is where Nevian, the Master of Magic,

foretold the new King would set his standard. I must be at the

doors of the Palace of Kings to pass on my crown before I turn

to stone.'

 

Errant stood beside the King, wrapping his cloak tightly

against the cold night air. 'Lord it is a dangerous road to

World's End! The Greenways are blocked and overgrown with

wildness.'

 

Holbian laughed. 'That is the road, Errant. I see now the road

Krulshards will run, he will re-enter the City of Night and draw

Thane into darkness. None will follow him, for none but a King

can walk there. Krulshards has used his revenge well but I will

follow and help Thane to end the Nightmare's grip of terror on

this beautiful land. It is my task as the last Granite King to walk

in the darkness and stand at Thane's side now that I have

 

 

mastered my fear. Revenge or not, I know it in my heart.'

 

Errant reached out and took the King's hand, feeling the

maze of cracks that the chill air had opened. 'The Night

 

261

 

 

horses of Underfall will lead you, Lord, and the Warhorses

and the packs of Border Runners will protect you on the road.

But what of the city folk?'

 

'They will follow you, great King,' Angis whispered, kissing

his hand. 'I will lead them for you,' she offered, before she

vanished down the bank to marshal them in readiness for

their night's march.

 

Pinchface the Loremaster had barely laid the last rough-cut

turf on the Chancellors' graves before the last of the city folk

had hurried out into the darkness. Muttering he slung the

heavy shovel aside and turned to follow them.

 

'Loremaster!' a voice hissed just behind him in the darkness,

and a hand gripped his wrist.

 

'Silverpurse!' Pinchface cried, seeing the Chancellor's son.

 

Silverpurse clamped his hand across the Loremaster's

mouth and pulled him back into the undergrowth. 'You saw

what those foul warriors did to my father and all my friends.

You will help me to destroy the King and take all Elundium as

mine, in my father's name. You will do it or die here in the

darkness.'

 

Pinchface struggled against the strong hands that held him

to the ground, trying to open his mouth to cry out to the King

but he felt the sharp point of Silverpurse's dagger against his

throat and shrank back silently against the cold earth.

 

'There will be others who will help us take Elundium, many

others,' Silverpurse snarled, easing the dagger away from the

Loremaster's throat.

 

'Yes, Lord, yes, Lord,' Pinchface whispered in fear, wringing

his hands in despair as the clatter of hooves and the tramp

of marching feet faded into the black night air.

 

262

 

r

 

: I

: 1

 

The New City

 

Willow Leaf climbed the last two steep steps on to the top of

the inner wall that encircled Candlebane Hall and shaded his

eyes against the setting sun. Sighing with satisfaction he

stared out over the new-built Granite City. 'It is in your

memory, Elder,' he whispered, looking up into the darkening

sky for the first evening star.

 

Running footsteps sounded in the shadows of the inner

wall. Willow turned and searched the shadows. Laughing, he

bent forward and offered his hand to a slim dark-haired girl

who turned the last twist in the stone stairs and ran lightly to

the top of the wall. 'Mother says you would have missed the

noonday food,' she said, catching her breath after the steep

climb.

 

Willow smiled, feeling his cheeks blush a deep red as he

took the rough woven basket and set it down on the top of the

wall. 'You Apples are like a family to me,' he laughed, lifting

the edge of the clean cheesecloth that covered the basket to

see an array of forest fruits and finger treats that made his

mouth water. 'Your mother is a real treasure,' he said, taking

out a bright yellow fruit and biting into its tough shiny skin.

 

Oakapple smiled shyly and looked away. 'Mother says you

never eat properly. Ever since Elder's death, she says.'

 

Willow frowned, his face darkening with anger as he

remembered Elder's death beneath that cruel-clawed Nightbeast'

s foot in the City of Night. 'None of us is safe and never

will be until the Nightmare is destroyed,' he said, angrily

 

263

 

 

stabbing his finger towards the newly-built great wall that had

thrown evening shadows across the lower circles of the city. 'I

dared not rest while the city lay open for the Nightmare to

enter.'

 

Oakapple moved closer to Willow, touching his sleeve with

her long pale fingers. 'Do you watch for the Nightmare? Is

that why you sit up here all alone, watching in case he

returns?'

 

Willow smiled, 'No, Oakapple, I watch for a friend upon

the Greenway. Nevian, the Magician, said that Evening Star

would come to the city when the rebuilding was finished; that

is who I wait for.'

 

'The last roof slates were laid today. The city is finished

now, I am sure she will come.' Oakapple answered.

 

Willow shook his head. 'There is still the fallen tower in the

inner circle, but something has stopped me from rebuilding it

or opening the wall. It is still sealed against Nightbeast attack

just as the King left it.'

 

A noise from below made Willow and Oakapple turn and

look down into the inner circle of the city. The moon had

ridden high in the clear sky, casting deep shadows across the

rubble of the fallen tower. 'Hush!' whispered Oakapple,

holding her finger against her lips.

 

Willow stared at the fallen tower, his hand upon the hilt of ;

his dagger. 'Look!' he cried, stepping back a pace. 'Look,

 

there is water shining amongst the jumble of stones.'

 

Fine jets of water suddenly rose up in graceful fountains,

sparkling in the moonlight as the night winds drove them

against the inner sheer sides of the wall where they ran in

glistening droplets down on to the cobbles. 'The wells are dry

and dust choked. This is a miracle!' willow cried, jumping to

his feet and turning to Oakapple. i

 

'Go down and gather the best masons, we must cut a

channel through the wall and take the water spiralling down

into a new well beside the great gates.' ,

 

Willow ran down the inner stone stairway and splashed his .

 

264

 

1 ~

~ _

~ :

~ L

i]

 

way through the ice-cold water that was flooding across the

cobbles until he stood level with the doors to Candlebane

Hall. Laughing he held up his stone searcher, judged the

height of the first broad step and drove it into the wall. 'The

inner circle of the city will be a lake, the Candle Hall and the

fallen tower will be islands, gardened and set with flowers! A

beautiful lake of pure sweet water,' he whispered, scooping a

handful to his mouth and drinking.

 

'Cut the channel here!' he called to the tunnellers who

were hurrying down the stone steps armed with heavy sacks of

tools.

 

Dawn had greyed the sky before the water channels were

finished and the overflow of water was following the newlybuilt

spiral down into the shadows of the great gate. Willow

sought out Oakapple from amongst the women treading earth

between the granite blocks from the fallen tower and took her

up to the top of the wall. 'Please watch with me,' he asked,

turning his eyes towards the dark horizon line.

 

Oakapple smiled and spread her cloak around them both.

'The city is finished now,' she whispered, sleepily resting her

head on his shoulder.

 

Willow nodded silently, watching the Greenway appear

through the ghost tails of the dawn mist. He knew she would

come now, deep down in his heart he knew it and he stretched

out his hand and touched the cold metal stone searcher that

 

 

lay beside him. Oakapple snuggled closer, and murmured as

she fell asleep.

 

The first ray of sunlight had begun to burn above World's

Edge, warming them and drying out the dew that had settled

on the cloak. Willow stiffened and sat up straight, blinking

against the low rays of golden light. There were figures on the

Greenway, small dots, far away but moving towards the city.

'Oakapple, Oakapple, look!' he cried, shaking her awake.

 

Lifting her head, she blinked and rubbed her eyes and

smiled at Willow. 'I dreamed of horses just like the Warhorses

 

265

 

 

that fought beside us on the high plateau before the Gates of

Night.'

 

'Yes, yes!' Willow interrupted, 'but look out there on the

Greenway.'

 

Oakapple rubbed her eyes and stared out along the bright

morning road. 'They are just like the dream,' she cried.

 

'It is Evening Star and her foal, surrounded by a company

of Warhorses!' Willow shouted and leaping to his feet ran to

the top of the steps, then he stopped find turned and looked

into Oakapple'e eyes. 'Nevian said that I must follow my fate

wherever it may lead.'

 

Oakapple reached into the forgotten supper basket and

withdrew a crisp orange forest fruit. 'Take this gift for

comfort on the journey,' she whispered, pressing it into his

hands.

 

'When the Nightmare is dead I will return,' he cried,

gathering up his stone searcher and running down into the

morning shadows.

 

'Star! Star!' he shouted, halting on the crown of the

Greenway. The safety of the great gate lay at least a league

behind him. Before him the company of Warhorses had

grown longer and longer and was filling the road and the

pounding of their hooves had churned up a dense cloud of

dust. 'Star!' he shouted again against the thunder of their

hooves.

 

As one the Warhorses slowed and halted before Willow.

The leading horses trotted up to him and stretched their

necks and snorted in greeting. Evening Star neighed and

trotted forward, brushing her soft muzzle against his cheek.

 

'Willow,' a calm gentle voice whispered in his head, 'wehave

crossed Elundium to your call, without rest. Night and

 

day we have travelled.'

 

Willow stepped back and let his hands fall to his sides. 'But,

I haven't called for you,' he cried. 'You have been in my

thoughts with each waking moment and I have watched the 'I

Greenway each night and every daylight ever since Nevis

 

266

 

foretold that you would come to the city when it was newly

built; but I did not send word.'

 

Star snorted and pawed at the ground, nudging her foal

forward.

 

'Fate draws you together,' laughed a voice from the

Greenway's edge.

 

'Nevian!' Willow gasped, spinning round and shading his

eyes against the bright colours in the rainbow cloak.

 

'It was my voice in the wind. It was I who tugged at the

threads of your fates, drawing them once more together.'

 

Willow reached out and touched the rainbow cloak, feeling

its soft warm colours. 'But why?' he asked, turning his head

towards Evening Star. 'Why did Star and her foal have to

travel through great danger to come here?,Was it to shelter in

the safety of the newly-built city? Is Elundium too wild for her

to roam in?'

 

Nevian smiled and shook his head, and taking Willow's

hand he placed it on Evening Star's shoulder. 'Because there

is a bond of love between you that grew out of the despair and

darkness of the City of Night. A love so strong that not even

Krulshards, the Master of Nightmares, can tear it apart.'

 

Willow nodded, but his face paled at the Nightmare's

name. Star snorted, arching her neck and pushed her foal

towards the Warhorses.

 

Nevian put his hand on Willow's shoulder and turned him

towards World's End. 'Krulshards has turned towards the

City of Night. He has taken Elionbel and her mother in

 

 

revenge for Thane entering the city. They are helpless lures

tied on to the end of his life thread.'

 

'Lures?' interrupted Willow, drawing his eyebrows

together. 'What are they?'

 

Nevian lifted the rainbow cloak and carefully drew out a

fine silver shimmering thread. 'If I tie you to my life thread,

Willow, you are a part of me, and suffer each and every one of

my hurts. The Nightmare uses Elionbel and her mother to

draw Thane into the darkness. There he will take him and

 

267

 

 

peel his skin back to the bones, destroying him slowly, and if

he dies I fear Elundium will fall into the shadows.'

 

'But how are we to help?' Willow asked, looking up into

Nevian's face.

 

The magician smiled, his face crinkling into a thousand

wrinkles. 'I know not, Willow,' he whispered. 'It is beyond my

sight, but I fear that Thane will be powerless against Krulshards

while Elionbel suffers hurt and I would ask you to be at

Thane's side in the darkness, because you know of the

Nightmare's weakness. You know of his shadow.'

 

Willow frowned and looked out across the green rolling

countryside and asked quietly, 'What if Thane cannot destroy

the Nightmare? What if even he fails?'

 

Nevian lifted his hand and pointed at the sun. 'Your time of

freedom in the daylight will be nothing but a brief moment to

treasure in the darkness that will come.'

 

'And the foal? Must he travel back into the darkness?'

 

'No, he will stay with the Warhorses, they will protect him.'

 

Willow smiled and as he moved among the Warhorses he

reached out to put his hand upon the foal's shoulder. The foal

squealed and reared, boxing the air above Willow's head.

'Easy! Easy!', he cried, jumping backwards clear of the

thrashing hooves.

 

'He is a Lord of Horses,' laughed Nevian, 'and is not yet

ready to come quietly to the bridle.'

 

Star snorted and pushed her foal deeper among the

Warhorses, scolding him for being so savage. Turning she

trotted quickly back to Willow and stood quietly while he

mounted her.

 

Nevian picked up the heavy metal stone searcher that

Willow had dropped on to the Greenway when he first;

greeted Star and placed it in his hands. 'Far sight tells me that

you must carry the stone searcher to the City of Night.

Beyond that I can see nothing but darkness.'

 

'Lord, what of my people now that the Granite City is

rebuilt?'

 

268

 

iAn,

 

Nevian smiled, casting back the rainbow cloak. 'The city is

theirs until a new King comes to claim it, but you must turn

your mind to the road to World's End or there will be no more

Kings. Ride hard and fast to reach the City of Night before

Thane enters the darkness.'

 

'Where shall we meet? Mantern's Mountain is a rambling

wilderness that almost touches the stars,' cried Willow. Star

pawed at the Greenway, neighed fiercely and sprang forward.

 

'I know not,' Nevian shouted against the thunder of her

hooves. 'But Evening Star was once a great relay horse and

knows all the secret ways to World's End. Give her her head,

she will find the way!'

 

Willow waved his hand in salute to Nevian and then wound

it tightly into Star's mane and clung on for all he was worth as

they left the Greenway and cantered into a long avenue of

young sapling trees. The sun flashed and flickered behind the

trees and he laughed, remembering a dream from long ago

when he lay, a prisoner in the City of Night, and he had

watched the sunlight behind a forest of shafts. And he

galloped forward to this dream.

 

269

 

 

Glass Arrow Blades

 

Thane awoke to the bumping clatter of the rough-made

stretcher and looked out at the grey grasses bent beneath the.

pouring rain. He shivered, trying to remember what had;

happened as he twisted his head to see who was pulling him

along. 'Kyot!' he shouted, looking past Sprint's rain-soaked

flank up at his friend's shoulder where a quiver of featherflighted

arrows swung from side to side.

 

Kyot heard Thane's weak cry and eased Sprint to a halt.

He dismounted and knelt beside the stretcher, a frown o

worry creased his forehead as he tucked his cloak more firmly i

around Thane's shivering body.

 

'Where is Stumble?' Thane asked in a broken whisper,

trying to shake the raindrops from his eyes, 'Where are you

taking me trussed up like a prisoner?'

 

Kyot laughed softly, 'I'd let you walk if you could stand bu

you are fevered, bird thin and near to starvation. Lie easy on

the stretcher until we get to Clatterford. Eventine has gon

before us to warn theme and then you will be hot-fed and a

warm fire will dry out your rain-soaked bones.' ,

 

'But Stumble . . .' Thane worried. ~

 

Kyot pointed back into the trampled grasses along the two

broad lines the stretcher had left. 'He is following our treacle

at his own pace. He is as weak as you after the ordeal in the

marsh gully but the Border Runners are guarding him an

they will keep him safe.'

 

Thane struggled against the bindings that held him to the

 

270

 

.,

 

~ ,

 

stretcher. 'Krulshards has Elionbel. I must follow him, I

must.'

 

Kyot sadly shook his head and stood up. 'You cannot follow

anybody until you have rested and found new strength at

Clatterford, but when you are strong I promise I will come

with you to hunt down the Nightmare.'

 

Thane cursed and muttered helplessly as Kyot remounted,

but there was nothing he could do. Closing his eyes he sank

into dark dreams lulled by the rattle of the rain as they passed

through the tall grasses. The low grey rain clouds darkened

with the coming night. Kyot turned in the saddle and

searched the trampled grass, he was worried that Stumble

would be lost once darkness fell but he laughed with relief to

see the little horse had almost caught up with them. He

looked gaunt and tired but there was a flicker of pride in his

eyes as he whinnied a greeting to Sprint.

 

A stag roared out in the half light and Kyot saw Tanglecrown

and Eventine galloping towards them. 'There are

Nightbeasts on the borders of Clatterford. Tombel has

cleared a wide path through them but we must hurry!'

 

'How long will it take us to reach Clatterford?' he called out

as Eventine moved in beside him.

 

'If we ride hard, without rest, dawn will be breaking as we

cross the ford before my father's house,' she answered,

looking down at Thane's fever-lined face, worrying that he

might die from the rough journey long before they were

threatened by a Nightbeast attack.

 

Thane opened his eyes and for a moment he caught sight of

Eventine, but all he saw was a blurred face framed in a halo of

fire-gold hair and edged by the dark grey rain clouds.

'Elionbel,' he whispered as the face slipped away from him

and he sank back into darkness.

 

Kyot called Stumble to him and caught his reins, drawing

him in close to Sprint's flank. The two huge Border Runners

dropped back one on either side of the stretcher as the

company forged ahead and the only sounds above the pouring

 

 

271

 

 

272

 

rain were the jingle of their harness and the thunder of their

hooves as they passed through league after league of the

night-dark grasslands.

 

The grey hours came, cold, wet and forbidding to show

them Nightbeast carcasses strewn in rough battle order across

the trampled grasses.

 

Eventine turned anxious eyes from left to right searching

for signs of life amongst the Nightbeasts. 'It looks as though

the path is still ours,' she whispered, necking an arrow on to

her bow, but the Border Runners smelt danger and their

hackles rose. -;

 

Rockspray lifted quickly from Kyot's shoulder and flew in a

wide circle. 'Nigh/beasts!' he shrieked, stooping at a black

shadow and plunging towards its hideous upturned face as the

monster rose to hurl its spear at Kyot.

 

All about them Nightbeasts leapt to their feet. Eventine and

Kyot loosed their arrows, the Border Runners leapt snarling:

at the Nightbeasts' throats while Tanglecrown lowered hut

antlers and swinging his head from side to side he scythed a

path through the swarming beasts, cutting and tearing with

the glittering crystal tips that Fairday had woven into his'

antlers.

 

'Follow me,' Eventine shouted as Tanglecrown surged

ahead.

 

Kyot dug his spurs in Sprint's sides to keep pace with that

Lord of Stags for now he could see the ford of Clatterford less

than sixty strides ahead. All around him Nightbeasts were

screaming and shouting, rising up to block out the breaking

dawn and fighting to block the gap Tanglecrown had made.;,

 

Tanglecrown reached the ford and halted. He lifted ho

head to the grey morning light, roared, turned and charge'

again.

 

'Follow me, faster!' Eventine called out as Sprint broke frog

from the mass of Nightbeasts and followed Tanglecrown in'.

the ford. 'My father's Archers will not let the Nightbeasts

 

to the lawns of Clatterford.'

 

. .

 

Bright water sprayed up from Sprint's fleeing hooves,

bubbling and swirling over the stretcher, soaking Thane to

the skin. Roughly woken and terrified of the seething mass of

Nightbeasts less than a dozen strides behind him he began to

shout, struggling frantically against the binding cord that held

him on to the stretcher. With a mighty bump they left the

water and climbed the steep slopes on to the lawns of

Clatterford. Brilliant peacocks surrounded the stretcher, fanning

out their plumage and turning a thousand eyes against

the Nightbeasts, and the last Thane saw of the battle was the

two huge Border Runners crouching side by side defending

the ford.

 

The stretcher had stopped. Kyot was at his side, cutting the

cords and helping him slowly to his feet. Before him, in all its

dazzling beauty, rose the House of Clatterford. Thane looked

up and gasped, catching his breath at the sheer beauty of the

sunlight trapped in a thousand interwoven patterns, from

bright white on the gables and roof tops to indigo and deep

purples where the walls rested their feet in the neat shadowcovered

lawns. Each brick and beam seemed to be fashioned

out of smooth crystal, transparent and yet solid, and they all

glowed in countless soft hues.

 

'It is beautiful, truly beautiful,' he whispered, stepping

dizzily forwards.

 

Fairday stood on the glass steps, his sky-washed cloak

shining out in the first rays of sunlight to break through the

rain clouds. 'Welcome! Welcome!' he cried, descending and

taking both of Thane's hands in his. 'You did not fail me,

daughter,' he said quietly, sweeping his gentle eyes over

Thane's ragged clothes and fever-wasted face. 'You found the

ones that all Elundium waits for.'

 

 

Stumble snorted and lowered his head as Fairday ran his

hand through his mane. 'You ran a hard road, hard enough to

wear this great-hearted horse into a shadow.'

 

Thane blinked and then held Fairday's eyes. 'We

chase the Nightmare, Krulshards. I gave Stumble his

 

273

 

 

freedom, but he chose to stay with me.'

 

Fairday nodded, a smile touching the corners of his eyes as

he led the company into the house of Clatterford. 'You will

stay with us long enough to take meat and build up your

strength or I fear that road will be the death of you for that is

indeed a hard and desperate road to travel alone.'

 

'He is not alone, Father,' Eventine cried, interrupting. 'We,

Kyot and 1, will travel into the darkness with Thane.'

 

Fairday frowned. 'No, child, hunting Nightbeasts on the

edge of the morning is one thing, dangerous enough. But to

chase the Nightmare, Krulshards!'

 

'The Nightmare has Elionbel and her mother, Martbel, as

prisoners. I shall ride with Thane, we are as brothers,' Kyot

said fiercely, taking Thane's hand.

 

'And we are love-matched, our bowstrings are intertwined,'

whispered Eventine, looking into Kyot's eyes.

 

'Enough! Enough!' cried Fairday, raising his hands for

silence. 'What would you do with the Nightmare, Thane, if

you caught him?'

 

Thane shook his head. 'I know not, Lord. Nevian said that

Elionbel and Martbel were tied to the Nightmare by his life

thread and if I was to hurt him they would be strangled to

death.'

 

Fairday placed a hand on Thane's shoulders and looked;

deeply into his eyes. 'He will destroy you, Thane, through that

moment of weakness if you hesitate because of your love for

Elionbel. Remember, whatever the price, if you come face to

face with Krulshards you must drive the blade hard and quick

through the shadowy malice into his rotten heart. More than

Elionbel's life is in the balance. You must strive to win the

daylight for all Elundium!'

 

Thane paled; the marsh fever was making him feel dizzier

with despair.

 

Fairday smiled and summoned two of his furnace men tot

come forward. 'Did Nevian counsel you to let fate find a way;

to destroy the Nightmare?'

 

274

 

i

 

r

f

 

to

)

 

 

'

Yes!' cried Thane, looking up at the two glassmakers

carrying slender arrow-filled quivers in their hands. 'But I am

no Archer, my Lord, I am a swordsman!'

 

Fairday laughed, drawing two polished arrows, one from

each quiver. 'They are spine-matched, Thane, for the two

greatest bows in Elundium. Spine-matched to sing with one

voice as they cut through the air.'

 

Eventine took one of the arrows from her father and wet

the blade with her tongue. Spinning the arrow between her

fingers she filled the grand crystal hall with pure shafts of

scattered light.

 

Fairday smiled, taking the arrow from his daughter and

gently replaced both in the quivers. 'Legend foretold of a time

when the great bows would sing together against the darkness.

I feared that moment, knowing it would take my

daughter into great danger but I cannot fight against fate.

Thus each morning since Kyot first entered my house I have

stolen a little drop of sunlight and hot-forged it into the arrow

blades.'

 

'Stolen the sunlight?' Thane whispered, looking in fear at

the grey goose arrow flights that stood just proud of the rims

 

 

of the quivers.

 

Fairday laughed, taking Thane's hand. 'As the sun rose,

fiery and powerful above the grasslands and cast its first ray

across my polished anvil I hammered out the molten glass,

smoothing it and folding it over the sunlight, trapping a tiny

point of light within the blade. They are rare indeed; forged a

moment too soon and the sun is too weak, a moment too late

and the light has faded.'

 

Turning to Kyot and Eventine he warned them to use the

glass arrows only against the Nightmare. Turning back to

Thane he held him for a moment, searching with his second

sight in the dark daylights yet to come. 'Fate has armed

your companions with the Bows of Orm and Clatterford.

Fate will arm you with bright metal,' he said

quietly. 'It will arm you with a sword fit for a King to use

 

275

 

 

against the Nightmare. Cry out and the sword shall be yours.'

 

'Sword?' questioned Thane, leaning forward.

 

But Fairday laughed, clapping his hands for the servers to

lead them to breakfast and dismissing Thane's question. 'Let

fate pull the threads that draw us all together, let fate keep you

safe on the way into the blackest night. Come, or breakfast

will turn into noonday food.'

 

Long after breakfast had been cleared away and the house

of Clatterford stood wrapped in silence Thane took Kyot out

on to the rain-wet grass and walked beside him, asking with

fear in his voice, 'Did Esteron reach Underfall?'

 

Kyot stopped and turned towards Thane. 'He is with the

Healer, Merion, at World's End. He is sorely wounded but

safe from the Nightbeasts. He limped slowly on to the

Causeway Field, with Mulcade battle-perched on his withers,

putting our council to rout.'

 

Thane smiled, seeing again the proud arched neck and

hearing the thunder of his hooves. 'Esteron,' he whispered,

'Oh, how I need you now.'

 

Rockspray dug his talons into Kyot's shoulder and hooted.

Thane looked at the owl. 'Would you find them for me?' he

asked in a whisper, stroking the owl's chest feathers. 'Would

you fly to World's End and tell them that the Nightmare has

Elionbel?'

 

Rockspray spread his wings and hooted just once more

before lifting silently into the sun-bright sky and turning

towards the line of shadowy mountains that hid World's End

from their sight.

 

Thane and Kyot passed into the shadows of the tall yew

hedge that bordered the waters of Clatterford and looked

towards World's End. 'We will travel as soon as Stumble is

strong enough to carry me,' Thane murmured as he turned

towards the river bank. Laughing, he knelt and reached ou t

his hands to the dark shapes that sat silently paddling against

the current. 'The grey swans will find the fastest road,' he

whispered.

 

276

 

i,

 

..

 

1

1

 

Sliding down the bank into the water he gently stroked

Ousious' downy chest, feeling for the wound Krulshards had

made but all that he could find were the knot ends of

Stumble's mane that he had used to sew the edges of the

wound together. Easily he cut them with his dagger and let

them drift with the current away beyond the lawns of

Clatterford.

 

'You must sleep,' Kyot insisted, kneeling on the edge of the

bank, beside Ousious. 'Sleep and rest and grow strong before

we journey to the City of Night.'

 

277

 

 

A

 

New Nightmare

 

'Mother!' Elionbel cried, reaching out a steadying hand as

Martbel stumbled on the steep mountain slope.

 

Martbel sank on to her knees, both hands pressed against

her stomach. 'I cannot go on,' she wept, bending double with

the pain.

 

Krulshards felt the tug of the life thread and stopped and

turned, a snarl of impatience on his skinless face. 'Hurry,

hurry!' he spat, with one eye watching the empty sky for

danger. 'Get to your feet, Marcherwoman.'

 

'She is too weak to walk,' Elionbel shouted, her fists

clenched in anger, her lips trembling with hatred.

 

The Nightmare's seed had grown too quickly inside her

mother's belly, it had drained her strength as if sucking her

life away, withering her with each daylight that passed.

 

'Carry the Marcherwoman!' Krulshards ordered pulling

the hood of the malice over the top of his head against the

sunlight.

 

Kerzolde roughly slung Martbel across his shoulder and

savagely pinched Elionbel's arm with his one good claw.

'Move!' he screamed, prodding her forward after his

master.

 

A shadow slowly crossed the mountainside towards them.

Krulshards saw it and scrambled for shelter in a rough

outcrop of rocks, pulling Elionbel after him. Kerzolde and

Kerhunge followed, pushing Martbel into the shadows of an

overhang of boulders.

 

278

 

l

ill

 

'Quiet,' hissed the Nightmare, clamping his fingers across

Elionbel's mouth. 'Quiet!'

 

Above them, high in the cloudless sky, an owl flew towards

World's End. Elionbel struggled against the Nightmare's grip,

kicking her feet wildly, sending the loose shale cascading in a

steady stream into the depths below.

 

Rockspray saw the rocks slide and circled and stooped low

over the outcrop of rocks. 'Nightmare!' he shrieked, seeing

the edges of the malice where it overshadowed Elionbel's

cloak.

 

Beating the thin mountain air beneath his wings he flew

away from the rocks into the bleached weather-ruined branches

of a mountain pine and sat frozen still, watching and

waiting.

 

'Owls!' sneered Krulshards, pushing Elionbel back out into

the sunlight. 'Meddling blinkless birds!' he muttered,

dismissing the owl from his dark thoughts as he searched for

the secret ways back into the City of Night, cursing

Thanehand and his warriors for blocking the Gates of Night

and sealing them against him. 'Follow!' he snarled, tugging on

the life thread.

 

Rockspray sat unmoving throughout the long afternoon,

watching the Nightmare scale the steep slopes. He heard the

curses and brutal screams as each new path they found led to

a false ending.

 

'Blind fools!' the Nightmare shrieked, raising the lash again

and again to beat his Captain.

 

'Master, the entrance is near. I can smell the pure dark air,'

Kerzolde cried, cowering backwards.

 

Krulshards looked eagerly from left to right, his nose

almost touching the barren shale. He could also smell the

sulphurous fumes and knew that the journey's end was but a

pace away. 'There, it is there!' he shouted, pulling on the life

 

 

thread, drawing Elionbel to him.

 

Gurgling with victory he pointed a bone black finger at a

narrow crack high up above their heads. 'There is the

 

279

 

 

doorway. There is the doom-slit of your torment, Marcherwoman!'

 

 

Elionbel looked up at the sulphur-stained yellow rocks that

rose in sheer columns on either side of a narrow crack and

shrank back. 'No!' she whispered, crouching beside her

mother.

 

Krulshards hooked his fingers into the weave of Elionbel's

cloak and lifted her roughly to her feet. 'You are lost,

Marcherwoman, these are the last moments of your daylight.

Nobody shall see you vanish into the darkness. Thanehand

has not overtaken us on the road!'

 

Elionbel turned her head desperately searching the barren

shale slopes without hope. She cried out in desperation,

'Thane! Thane!'

 

The Nightmare laughed, sneering with victory as he wound

the life thread between his fingers and dragged her up

through the narrow crack. Kerzolde and Kerhunge lifted and

pushed Martbel after their master but, in the last glimpse of

daylight before the darkness swallowed them, Elionbel

thought she saw an owl rise silently from the weatherbleached

branches of a single pine tree that grew in the shadow of the

foul entrance.

 

'Tell Thane!' she called. 'Tell Thane!' but the darkness

muffled her voice, deadening all hope, as Krulshards hurried

them forward.

 

'Nigh/shards!' he called, summoning the guardians of the

City of Night. 'Come to your master. Come to me!'

 

Far away in the depths Elionbel heard dry rattling footsteps

and screams of delight. Foul fumes blew all around them,

choking bitter scents that made Krulshards dance with

delight.

 

'Blind beasts,' he crowed licking at the cold black walls,

'your master has the Elionbel as a lure to trap Thanehand.

Soon he will come, and with his death we will reopen the

Gates of Night and destroy the daylight of all Elundium.'

 

Martbel screamed, arching backwards in pain. 'Elton!' she

 

280

 

cried, falling heavily on to her knees, 'it is beginning. Help

me!'

 

Kerzolde bent, sniffing at Martbel's skirts and tugged at the

folds of Krulshards' malice. 'Master, Master, the seed is

flowering!'

 

'Show me the seed!' Krulshards shouted, pushing aside the

first of the Nightshards that had gathered around him.

 

Kerhunge gripped Elionbel's wrists and pulled her away

from Martbel as far as the life thread would allow.

 

'Mother!' she cried, struggling helplessly against the

Nightbeast's strong claws.

 

Krulshards took one giant stride and tore Marbel's skirts

into shreds. 'Where is the seed?' he hissed, crouching on his

haunches, staring without pity or shame at her stretched

pulsating belly. Eagerly he dug his fingernails into the highest

point of the dome. 'Where is the seed?'

 

'Soon, Master, soon,' soothed Kerzolde, easing the Nightmare'

s hand away and motioning four Nightshards to hold the

woman down.

 

'What shape will it be?' Krulshards whispered, watching

Martbel's belly contort as she fought against the claws that held

her.

 

'The shape of a man, Master,' Kerzolde began to say, but

he stopped, pointing excitedly with his broken claw at a small

blood-soaked split that had begun to open in the angle

between Martbel's legs. 'It has begun, Master!'

 

Martbel lifted her head, her eyes glazed with pain and

 

 

pushed. With all her strength she pushed, trying to force the

foul burden out. 'Help me, help me, Elion!' she screamed,

grinding her teeth as the Nightmare's seed clawed at her

insides. Far away she heard Elionbel call out in the darkness.

 

'Remember your promise!' Martbel shouted through the

blinding pain. 'For all Elundium's sake, kill it!'

 

Grunting with the effort, she pushed again and again until

suddenly her stomach split, and through the blinding pain she

saw a face, leering and blood-wet, through the broken birth

 

281

 

 

asack. 'No!' she screamed, thrashing her head from side to side,

fighting helplessly against the claws that held her, but the

Nightmare was almost born. Freeing first one longfingered hand

then the other, tearing savagely at the edges of the birth sack, it

emerged. Lifting its head it cried out, shrill and piercing in the

darkness. Krulshards leapt backwards and the Mghtshards

gathered in a tight circle and trembled. Stepping forwards

Krulshards carefully lifted the baby free, holding it up as far as

the birth cord would allow. He stared at it, turning it this way

and that.

 

Looking down he frowned. 'How can this seed be as

powerful as me? The life thread traps it to the Marcherwoman!'

 

'No, Master, it is the way of the people of Elundium; once the

seed is born the thread must be severed before it withers away.'

 

Bending, Kerzolde took the birth cord in his teeth and

quickly bit through it. Standing up and wiping a trickle of blood

from his chin, he smiled at the baby. 'You must name him,

Master. He is your heir to the darkness.'

 

Krulshards leered as the Nightshards crowded around him in

the darkness and lifted the baby above his head. 'Kruel! I name

you Kruel, Master of Nightmares, Lord of the Night!'

 

Kruel turned his head and stared at his father and made:~:

soft gurgling noises. Kerhunge, in awe of the birth, eased his

grip on Elionbel and, forgetting her, stepped closer to see hiss

Master's seed. Elionbel saw her chance, and silently slipping a

hand underneath her skirts drew out the narrow-bladed: dagger

she had long kept hidden. Without a moment's hesitation she

lunged forward, the dagger held firmly in both a, hands.

Krulshards saw the flickering metal and snatched they baby into

the folds of the malice. Kruel turned his wrinkled: infant head

and screamed, high-pitched and piercing, as the] folds of the

malice closed about him. :]

 

The mountain trembled, the floor buckled, rippling beneath

their feet. Krulshards, holding the baby tight

 

. ~

282

 

it..

 

against his chest, reached out with his other hand and snapped

Elionbel's dagger, melting the bright metal between his

fingertips. 'There is a new power in the darkness,' he cried,

forcing Elionbel down on to her knees. 'A new power that shall

have all Elundium as his own.'

 

Lifting the baby out of the malice he held him above his head

and shouted out his name, 'Kruel! Kruelr You shall be the Lord

of Darkness!'

 

Kruel waved his tiny arms, flexed his long fingers and

gurgled with delight, turning his head slowly towards Elionbel.

He fell silent and stared at her through ice-cold pale eyes, then

opening his mouth he screamed, sending a tremor deep through

the City of Night, making the tall columns of sulphurous rock

that marked the secret entrance sway backwards and forwards.

Kruel screamed again, louder and more piercing, pointing at

Elionbel with his long fingernails and the columns of rocks

shattered, cascading down over the loose yellow shale into the

dark valleys below.

 

'A new power in the darkness!' laughed Krulshards, turning

towards the long dark road that led up into the City of Night.

 

'Bring the Marcherwomen to the high chamber,' he ordered,

cuddling the baby, touching the bright pink wrinkled skin on

its face.

 

'Gently, Master, babies are very fragile and break easily.'

 

Krulshards turned his head, dead locks of lank hair fanning

out across the malice. 'The power! Did you feel the power when

he screamed!'

 

'Yes, Master,' answered Kerzolde touching the baby's arm,

'Enough power to move this mountain.'

 

Krulshards frowned, looking down at the tiny baby. 'How do

 

 

we feed so small a mouth?'

 

'Master,' Kerzolde whispered, pointing back at Martbel where

she lay unconscious and bloody across Kerhunge's shoulders,

'the baby must feed from his mother, drinking her - life force, until

he is big enough to eat.'

 

283

 

 

'Then guard him closely when he is with the Marcherwoman,

and keep him well clear of Elionbel,' Krulshards

ordered.

 

'Yes, Master,' whispered Kerzolde, running to keep pace

with the Nightmare as he hurried towards his high chambers.

 

~ 284

 

. ~

.1

 

.1

 

:4

 

i

 

.~

.~

 

The Palace of Kings

 

Thunderstone felt the first earth tremor as it tore at the walls

of Underfall and he ran as quickly as he could up the winding

stairs to the lamp gallery. Behind him the stairway crumbled,

collapsing in a crash of blinding stone dust. Breathlessly he

steadied the lamp, holding it with both hands as the wooden

mounting rocked backwards and forwards. Twice he tried to

reach inside and catch hold of the last jewel from the cloak of

jewels that he had laid so carefully beside the wick to reflect

light into the darkness, but the jewel skidded on the smooth

polished surface of the glass, cutting a small deep groove as it

evaded his grasp. The fortress of Underfall settled and grew

still. Thunderstone stretched out his hand inside the lamp but

just as his fingers were closing on the jewel another tremor

fiercely shook the fortress and tipped the lamp violently

towards him. The jewel scratched across the glass and caught

in the groove it had cut beside the wick, fusing in a blinding

flash of white light into the glass.

 

Thunderstone gingerly touched the edge of the jewel and

cried out with pain as he licked at his burned fingertips.

'Magic! Pure magic!' he muttered, shielding his eyes against

the shaft of brilliant white light that had begun flooding

through the jewel and out across the shadowy Causeway

Field.

 

Following the shaft of light to the wild edge of Mantern's

Forest Thunderstone cried out, reaching for his horse-tail

sword. 'Lord of Lords!' he shouted, stumbling and sliding

 

285

 

 

adown the ruined stairway. 'Greatest of Kings!' he laughed,

running through the maze of inner courtyards, throwing door

after door open wide. 'The greatest Granite King, King Holbian,

has returned to Underfall!'

 

Thunderstone called out to the servants and undergrooms,

crying with joy. He threw the bolts on the outer doors and

rolled them wide open across the cobbles.

 

Rockspray flew low, close to the Causeway, shrieking a

warning to the Keeper of World's End as he entered the fortress

but Thunderstone merely laughed, pointing down at the weary

column of city folk flanked by the Nighthorses of Underfall, the

wild Warhorses and the packs of Border Runners. At the head

of the column rode King Holbian, aglitter in the steelsilver coat.

Errant was at his side riding Dawnrise and beside him another

warrior sat on a dark rough-coated pony.

 

'Lord, greatest of Kings,' Thunderstone cried, falling on to

his knees in the centre of the Causeway and offering up the hilt

of the horse-tail sword.

 

King Holbian reined Beacon Light to a halt before the Keeper

of World's End and stimy dismounted. Smiling he reached down

and took Thunderstone's hands into his own and pulled him to

his feet. 'Rise, true friend,' he laughed. 'Rise and be easy at my

side.'

 

Thunderstone looked up into the maze of fine cracks that

covered the King's face and frowned with concern. 'lord,' he

whispered, stepping forward.

 

King Holbian laughed, slowly ungloving his hands. 'I have

grown brittle, Thunderstone, old and brittle from the rub of time.'

The King looked past the Keeper's shoulder, sweeping; his gaze

across the sheer granite-grey wails of Underfall. 'I have come

home, dear friend,' he whispered. 'Home to the Palace of Kings.'

 

Beyond the great doors hoofbeats echoed in the inner;

courtyards thundering across the cobbles. 'Who in all

Elundium?' Thunderstone cried, spinning round lust in time to

see'>

 

286

 

Esteron gallop out into the sunlight, a broken halter chain

dangling from his head collar, his mane streaming in the wind.

 

Mulcade and Rockspray stooped on to Thunderstone's

shoulders and together, with quick beaks and talons, they took

Thane's summer scarf from beneath the Keeper's cloak and

rising up, the scarf spread out between them, they flew towards

Mantern's Mountain. 'The banner of light!' shouted the King,

pointing with his sword after the vanishing owls. 'That is the

standard; the summer scarf that Angis told me about.'

 

Angis saw the owls carrying her scarf, broke away from the

column of city folk and knelt upon the short grass of the

Causeway Field. 'Thane! Take care,' she called, twisting her

shawl between her fingers.

 

King Holbian turned, shading his eyes against the sunlight

and followed the flight of the owls. 'It is indeed a royal

standard, for it is made from the rag ends of the great banners

in the Towers of Granite. See how it sparkles in the daylight.'

 

Turning back the King faced Esteron who had halted a pace

away. Smiling, he reached out a hand towards the horse he had

given to- Thane to carry him to World's End. 'Who would have

thought that we would be standing here in the shadow of the

Palace of Kings on the threshold of a new Elundium? There are

great deeds in the making, I can feel it in my ancient bones.

Were I young again I would vault upon your back, Esteron,

and follow the owls, but I am burdened with old age and I will

have to follow as best as I can. Tell Thanehand, tell him that

the King will follow with all haste. Tell him that I am here at the

Palace of Kings.'

 

Esteron neighed, pawed at the Causeway road and reared up,

thrashing the air with his hooves, before jumping the shadowfilled

dyke and galloping after the owls.

 

King Holbian stood for a moment watching Esteron gallop

away before he turned to Thunderstone. 'The Granite City is no

 

 

more. The Chancellors are dead, and these,' here the

 

287

 

 

a288

 

King paused, pointing at the dusty column of travellers, 'are all

that are left of the people of the city.'

 

Thunderstone clapped his hands, calling every server and

underling out of the fortress on to the Causeway, ordering them

to find a bed and food for each of the people of the city.

Kneeling before the King he offered him the suite of rooms just

below the lamp gallery, saying, 'They look over World's End,

my Lord, and they glorify each sunset.'

 

But Holbian shook his head. 'No,' he answered quietly,

pointing into the darkened courtyards. 'When I enter the Palace

of Kings it will be to take my place among the other Granite

Kings who sleep within the bones of the mountain and I cannot

do that while the Nightmare lives. No, I shall set my pavilion on

the Causeway Field and prepare to enter the City of Night and

stand against Krulshards.'

 

Turning towards the long column of city folk he called

Breakmaster to come to him, placing Beacon Light's reins into

his hand. 'Let her rest with a full belly of corn, but in the grey

hours before morning ready her for battle, ready her for my ride

into the City of Night.'

 

The steep mountain stank of death as it towered over them.

Thoron reined Equestrius to a halt as the first earth tremor

shook the ground. He had carried the heavy sword that

Durondell had forged far across Elundium while Eagle Owl had

waited patiently on his shoulder, waiting for the call to carry the

sword to a new King. He looked up the steep side of the shalestrewn

valley they were about to enter. 'This is a dangerous

place,' he called out to the long column of Gallopers that waited

behind him.

 

Far above the sunlight touched the mountainside burning

fiercely on two tall columns of sulphur-yellow rocks. Eagle Owl

tensed, spreading his wings. Equestrius backed a pace, snorting

fiercely. Thoron loosed the hilt of the sword and edged it out of

the sheath. 'Now may be the moment!' he said; resting his hand

briefly on the owl's talons.

 

l

 

in.

 

Somewhere above them a piercing cry broke the silence,

tearing through the columns of yellow rock, shattering them

into a thousand pieces. 'Back! Retreat!' Thoron shouted against

the thunder of the rockslide as shale stones rained down into

the narrow valley, creating a cloud of stinging dust. Equestrius

turned and galloped clear of the rock slide. Thoron felt a tug at

his belt and when he looked down he saw that his sword had

gone. Shading his eyes he looked up across the mountain's

barren slopes and saw the flash of sunlight on bright metal as

Eagle Owl laboured to lift the blade high up into the thin

mountain air.

 

'Kingspeed, great bird of war!' he shouted lifting his hand to

wave farewell. 'Kingspeed!'

 

289

 

 

A Door Crack into Darkness

 

Stumble and Sprint galloped hard throughout the morning to

keep pace with Tanglecrown and together they reached the

edges of the grasslands before the sun had dropped towards

World's End. Two daylights they had rested and waited for

Stumble to recover while Thane impatiently paced the lawns.

On the third daylight the swans had taken to the air and they

had quickly followed them for fear of losing their path.

 

'This looks a barren place,' Thane shouted as they passed

into the shadows of the wild mountains that marched away

beyond the edge of sight in a ragged line before them.

 

'It is desolate and bleak,' Eventine called out, 'but it is no t

barren. Wild flowers grow against the shale and pine trees

cling to the higher slopes and there are secret lakes and

heather meadows where the grassland people graze the

mountain deer.'

 

Thane slowed Stumble to a walk and began to pick his way

across the first steep shale slope. The horse skidded, sinking: u

in the shale as it moved beneath his feet and twice he almost

 

fell on to his knees. Thane dismounted. i

 

'It will take us for ever to cross these mountains,' he cried,

scrambling over the loose shale, pulling Stumble along by the

reins.

 

Kyot and Eventine dismounted and began slowly crossing.

the slopes, Ogion swooped low over their-heads, his shadow

racing across the uneven shale. Opening his beak he sang ins

silence of the way to Mantem's Mountain and the City of:

 

290

 

Night. 'Follow! Follow!' he sang, fuming into a narrow valley

a hundred paces beyond where Thane struggled on the slope.

Reaching a small bluff of dark rock Thane clambered into the

floor of the valley and found fimmer moss-covered ground that

led up towards a high saddle of rocks. The moss felt damp

and in places it covered pools of stagnant water. 'There is a

hidden stream,' he whispered to Stumble before fuming to

wave to Kyot and Eventine, beckoning them forward. 'Follow

the grey swans,' he shouted, 'they will show us the best road.'

 

Darkness had fallen before they reached the saddle of

rocks and climbed up over them, using a narrow gully

fashioned in the shape of a giant's staircase.

 

'Legends say that the Granite Kings built these mountains,'

Eventine whispered, testing each dark shadow before she

climbed up through it. "whey built it with their bare hands in

battle with the Nightmare,' she added.

 

Thane climbed up the last step and stood on the highest

point of the saddle, looking out across a wide lake of still black

water.

 

'Mantern's Mountain!' he whispered fearfully, pointing at

the huge dark shape that rose sheer and terrible on the far

side of the lake, blotting out the canopy of stars, casting a

black shadow across the water. Kyot moved silently to his side

and stared up at the black mountain. Somewhere near the

summit a rock slide began, turning from a hollow rattle of

sharp shale into the thunderous roar of falling rocks that

plunged down into the lake, sending ripples far out across its

surface.

 

'The most dangerous place in all Elundium!' Kyot gasped,

stepping back a pace and taking Eventine's hand.

 

Thane turned his head and smiled softly at his two

love-matched friends. 'Take nothing you treasure or would

fear to lose,' he whispered, pulling his half-cloak tight against

the cold night wind.

 

Kyot squeezed Eventine's hand and knelt beside

Thane 'We treasure each moment we are together, we

 

291

 

 

anust walk into the darkness as one.'

 

Thane gripped Kyot's hand, his eyes wet with tears. 'No,

Kyot, stay here and wait for me. It is enough to lose Elionbel to

the Nightmare, but to lose you and for you to risk losing

Eventine . . .'

 

Kyot shook his head gently, resting his hands on Thane's

shoulders. 'We are as brothers, Thane. I would not leave your

side, not if all the Nightbeasts of Elundium were before us.'

 

'To face Krulshards will be far worse,' Thane cried, shaking

himself free. 'Don't you understand? To destroy the Nightmare I

must destroy Elionbel, I can see no other way. Fate has driven

me along this path and I must travel it to the bitter end, but it

would be a great comfort to me in the: darkness to know that

you are both here beneath the canopy of stars, walking free in

soft summer sunlight. And if I fail you must gather every

warrior, Marcher, Galloper and Archer in a last desperate attempt

to save the sunlight for I think that if Krulshards kills me he will

come to claim Elundium. That will be the moment when the great

Bows of Orm and Clatterford should sing together.'

 

Eventine knelt before Thane, holding his gaze with her gentle

clear eyes. '~ate has armed us to walk with you,' she whispered,

'you cannot turn away from the twists of fate.'

 

Thane blinked and looked away. Ousious, the Queen of

Swans, had waded ashore and stood silently beside him,

Reaching out a hand he caressed her soft, downy neck. 'Promise

me,' he whispered, looking back into Eventine's eyes. 'Promise

me that Elionbel will not suffer, that if I cannot cut the

Nightmare's life thread you will end her pain.'

 

Eventine reached back into her quiver and took out a glassbladed

arrow. 'I promise,' she whispered, kissing the blade and

handing it to Thane.

 

He lifted it and pressed it against his forehead, feeling the

hot sunlight trapped in the blade. Kyot also drew an arrow and

pledged his kiss upon the blade that Elionbel would feel

 

no pain as the Nightmare died.

 

292

 

lo..

 

Thane stood up, tears streaming down his face, and lightly

touched both the glass arrow-blades against his lips before he

gave them back. 'You have eased my heart and freed me to

destroy the Nightmare,' he whispered, turning away to hide his

grief and walk alone along the dark edge of the lake.

 

Kyot rose to follow him, but Eventine gripped his hand,

stopping him. 'He is with her now, walking in happier days.

Leave him with his sweet memories.'

 

Thane, unable to rest, had saddled Stumble in the grey hours

and waited impatiently until the light grew strong enough for

the swans to rise from the lake and find them an entrance to the

City of Night. Ogion and Ousious paddled to the water's edge

and bent their necks in salute, singing in haunted whispers of

the dark mountainside that loomed before them and of the love

that Thane had for Elionbel. Thane knelt on the bank, putting

his head between them and thanked them for all they had done

to lead him this far through the wildness of Elundium.

 

'All Elundium shall be yours to fly freely in, and any lake

that you choose shall be called Swanwater. I know the King

will pledge it to you if I can destroy the Nightmare.'

 

Ousious rubbed her beak against his cheek and sang

Elionbel's name just once before she turned away and beat a

path across the still water, rising up into the new morning's

light. Ogion stayed a moment, his glittering eyes looking

deeply into Thane's. Blinking, he touched the hilt of the dagger

with his beak, turned and followed Ousious out across the lake.

 

Kyot tested the string of his bow and mounted Sprint.

Eventine smiled and sprang lightly on to Tanglecrown's back,

but Thane stood awhile, watching the swans dip and swoop

across the bleak mountainside, searching out the road.

 

 

'There, there is the path,' Eventine cried, urging Tanglecrown

forward to where the swans were circling above a tall ridge of

shale that had its beginnings in the shallow waters of

 

293

 

 

the lake. Tanglecrown was a Lord of Stags and sure-footed in

the mountain crags. He roared a warning and led the way,

picking a route through the treacherous shifting shale.

 

Kyot followed a little way behind, a glass-tipped arrow

ready on the string. Stumble found the pace too fast on the

steep ridge, slipping and sliding with every footfall. Thane

dismounted, leading the horse, and followed as quickly as he

could. Twice during the long ascent he turned back, thinking

he saw a movement far below in the dark shadowy valleys.

Breathlessly he caught up with Kyot and showed him,

pointing downwards. Kyot followed Thane's arm, shading his

eyes against the noonday glare reflected on the slate-grey

shale.

 

'They are horsemen, I think!' he said. 'Marchers and

Gallopers spread out in a great crescent around the base of

this black mountain. It must be Tombel or Thoron. Nevian

pledged them to hunt the Nightbeasts clear across Elundium.'

 

Eventine had halted just above them, where the ridge

curved away from the mountainside. She laughed softly,

sweeping the end of her bow in a wide semi-circle. 'All

Elundium has gathered to watch our battle with the Nightmare.

I can see the roofs of Underfall far away to the right and

the glass spires of Clatterford far away to the left. The

emblem of the owl in blue and gold is everywhere betweenthem

spread in a great line that moves towards us.'

 

'But how many of them have the courage to follow us into

the darkness?' Thane asked. Turning back to face the

 

mountain he began to climb again.

 

Ousious swooped past him, flying straight at the mountainside.

At the last moment she turned away, her bright orange

beak opening and closing noiselessly. Again and again, in

great danger from Nightbeasts' spear thrusts, the swans flew

close to a narrow crack in the mountain wall, showing where

day turned into night.

 

'I see it, that dark split just above us. That is the beginning

of night,' Thane shouted to the circling swans, waving him

 

294

 

hand in thanks as they glided down towards the still black

water of the lake at the foot of the mountain.

 

'I can see the beginnings of the darkness,' he whispered to

himself, touching the silver finger bowl that Eventine had

given back to him before he left Clatterford. Carefully he

placed it in the pocket closest to his heart before he loosed the

dagger from his belt and moved forward.

 

Burnt footprints spoilt the opening but the dark crack in the

mountain stood empty and beckoning. Any Nightbeast watchers

guarding the entrance had retreated, hurrying, Thane

guessed, to the high chambers to tell Krulshards that he had

found the secret way into the City of Night. Taking deep

breaths he turned and searched the blue-domed sky. Fate was

to arm him. But how?

 

295

 

 

aDaylight and Darkness

 

Evening Star passed through the last tangle of ancient trees in

the eaves of Mantern's Forest and trotted on to the Causeway

Field. Away in the distance the fortress of Underfall rose sheer

and powerful in the sunlight.

 

The Causeway road before the giant doors was thronged

with a long column of travellers; lines of horsemen and

beautiful Warhorses were passing through the dykes to fill the

Causeway Field. Willow shaded his eyes and saw

Thunderstone kneel before a tall age-bent figure wearing a

glittering coat.

 

'Nevian?' he whispered, turning Evening Star towards the

fortress. Star hesitated, pricked her ears and snorted fiercely.

Willow leaned forward and picked up the faint sound o f

galloping hoofbeats.

 

'Esteron!' he cried, seeing the Warhorse burst through the

darkened entrance and pause before the figure in the glittering

coat before galloping out across the Causeway Field. 'Look,

Star, the owls are carrying the standard belonging to Thane.

They will lead us to him - quickly, follow, follow Esteron.'

 

Evening Star arched her neck, neighed and turned away from

Underfall, following Esteron up into the thick pine forest that

covered the lower slopes of Mantern's Mountain. High above

the dark trees the standard carried in the owls' talons glittered

and sparkled in the sunlight, flashing as a beacon to the weary

crescent of Marchers and Gallopers,

 

296

 

A,

 

hard on the heels of the remnants of the Nightbeast army.

'Thane is before us!' Thoron shouted, reining Equestrius to a

halt and pointing up at the owls as they turned and flew over

the steep pine forest that grew on the shoulders of the

mountain.

 

'The standard of the sun!' Tombel cried, pointing with the

blade of his Marching sword. 'Follow the standard!'

 

Turning to his son, Rubel, he lowered his voice and

whispered, 'We stand on the skirts of Mantern's Mountain;

above us is the City of Night. Elionbel and Martbel are now

beyond our power to save them.'

 

'Curse Thanehand!' Rubel spat, clenching his gloved fists.

 

'No, no!' Tombel shouted. 'Follow the standard and let no

foul Nightbeast enter the City of Night. If Thane is on the

Nightmare's heels then we must do all we can to help him.

Nevian foretold it.'

 

Rubel hesitated, his face white with anger. 'First he takes my

sister's heart, then Mother falls beneath the Nightmare's

shadow and my brother, Arbel, is at best a prisoner of the

Nightbeasts. Base Candlebrat!' he shouted, 'I curse him and all

candlecurs that meddle in magic and cling to the magician's

skirts. Thanehand is the root of this Nightmare's hate; without

his meddling none of this would have happened.'

 

Rubel stuttered in rage against Thane, making himself dizzy

and lightheaded. Tombel stared at his son, the blood draining

from his face, the tips of his fingers tingling with anger. 'Fool!'

he hissed, snatching Rubel's Marching sword out of his hands.

'You shout base Chancellor's words; ignorant words built on

false pride.'

 

Turning the sword and holding it with both hands he

brought it firmly down across his knee, snapping the blade in

two. 'You are no son of mine to judge another man by his

station, be he base or high born. Thane did not choose to bring

these tragedies upon our house; fate runs him on a harder road

than ours. Now go from my sight and seek true wisdom. Seek

out the Master of Magic

 

297

 

 

and beg him to show you the measure of Thanehand. Go!'

Rubel stepped back a pace and, bending, he gathered up

the two pieces of the sword. 'I cursed Thanehand for bringing

the Nightmare to our house and the curse shall stay until

Mother and Elionbel are safe home. I will not help him, save

with another curse.'

 

Without another word Rubel left the crescent of Marchers,

turning his back on Mantern's Mountain and the shadowy

line of Nightbeasts that ran before them towards the Gates of

Night. Tombel watched him walk away and took a step to,

follow, then stopped.

 

'Nevian,' he whispered, blinking back his tears, 'forgive

Rubel his anger, forgive my son his hatred, show him as you

showed me how to judge.'

 

Sighing, Tombel moved into his place in the crescent and,

heavy-hearted, he led the Marchers up out of the heather

meadows into the cool pine forest that covered Mantern's

towering shoulders. Far away to the right where the pine trees

thinned and the steep shale slopes began he saw Thoron

marshalling the Gallopers and swept his sword in a glittering ;

arc in the sunlight. Seeing Tombel, Thoron halted and waved

 

his hand, pointing up towards the summit.

 

'Run, Marchers, run,' he shouted, urging Equestrius forward.

Tombel shaded his eyes and thought for a moment that

he saw a flash of sunlight on bright metal somewhere near the

summit, somewhere near the high plateau. 'Run, Marchers,'

he shouted.

 

Willow and Evening Star had cantered clear of the pine trees

and slowed to a trot as they passed through the heather

meadows. Soon they would breast the edge of the high

plateau and the ruined Gates of Night. Before them, clear to

see, were Esteron's hoofprints, pressed deep into the heather.

Willow shifted the stone searcher, resting the butt end on his

foot, holding it upright as he would a spear. There was no

sign of the owls but to the left and right Warhorses and

 

298

 

Border Runners broke free of the pine trees and entered the

heather meadows, forming into fast-moving lines behind

them. Star whinnied and neighed, lengthening her stride as

the steep slope levelled. Cantering easily she reached the high

plateau and halted. Before them rose the three grassy mounds

of battle dead from the battle before the Gates of Night, and

each mound was covered with a mighty stoop of owls; still

they sat, unblinking, waiting and watching the ruined gates.

Rockspray and Mulcade were perched on the small grassy

mound of Amarch and Silverwing, the summer scarf still

hooked into their talons.

 

'Can you lead me to Thane?' Willow called out as Star

trotted towards the burial mounds. 'Nevian forewarned me to

meet Thane here before he entered the City of Night.'

 

Rockspray turned his head and hooted in shrill notes,

telling how the Nightmare had taken Elionbel and Martbel

into the darkness. 'Thane is on his heels,' he shrieked,

ducking his head backwards and forwards.

 

Evening Star quickly passed on all the owl's news to

Willow, snorting and neighing, striking her hoof upon the

ground.

 

'The Gates of Night are closed and ruined, beyond my skill

to open! If Thane has followed the Nightmare by another

path how shall we find it, where shall we find it on all this dark

mountain?'

 

Mulcade hooted softly, tilting his head and looking upwards

at a shadow that slowly passed over the high plateau.

 

'Is that Eagle Owl?' Willow whispered, crinkling his eyelids

against the sun's glare as a shaft of light reflected from a blade

held in the owl's talons. 'He is searching the mountainside, he

is looking for a way into the City of Night!' Willow cried,

urging Evening Star forward, sending the stoops of owls up

noiselessly to darken the sun. 'Look in every crack and hole,

turn over every boulder and loose stone. We must find a way

 

 

into the City of Night!'

 

Behind him, with the noise of thunder, the dense crescent

 

299

 

 

of Warhorses moved across the plateau, the Border Runners

fanned out, noses to the ground, sniffing for any trace of the

Nightmare's prints. Higher and higher Evening Star scrambled

amongst the rough boulders and slippery shale. Willow

dismounted, spun the stone searcher in his hand and began

the long task of searching under every stone and rock. Behind

his shoulder the sun slowly sank out of sight, casting a blood

red shadow over the roofs of Underfall far below.

 

'We must search on,' he cried. 'By silver moonlight or the

glow of a million stars we must find a way.'

 

King Holbian shivered, drawing the steelsilver coat tightly

against the chill night air and looked up at the black mountain

that filled the sky. 'Breakmaster,' he called softly, turning his

head.

 

'Lord, I am here.'

 

Holbian smiled, gripping Breakmaster's arm. 'The new sun

will see the last of the Granite Kings. I am at the end of my

road.'

 

'No, no, my Lord!' Breakmaster cried, falling on to his

knees. 'I will be first into battle. I will protect you.'

 

King Holbian smiled softly and took the horseman's hand.

'There will be no more battles for me, dear friend, nor work

for Arachatt to hide the cracks or plaster over the truth. I am

turning into stone; cold brittle granite. Here, feel it in my

fingertips.'

 

Sighing the King turned away from the black mountain. 'I

had hoped to ride with the morning sunlight into the darkness

of the City of Night but it is beyond me, gone for ever.'

 

'Lord . . .' Breakmaster began to interrupt, but the King

bid him be silent.

 

'It is my place as the King to stand at Thane's side just as,

in the darkest hours of the siege lock on the Granite City you

stood faithful and firm beside me, a true friend against

despair. My heart is strong and does not falter; it is the body

that cannot scale the mountain. Judge me not as a coward.'

 

300

 

.1

 

Aim.

 

Breakmaster blinked back his tears and bent his head to

kiss the King's hand, and he felt the cold touch of stone

against his lips. 'Lord, you have the courage of the wild

Warhorses and stand head and shoulders above us all against

the Nightbeasts3

 

'With the first light of the new sun saddle Beacon Light,'

the King continued in a hushed whisper. 'Spread the steelsilver

coat across her back and help me up into the saddle. Be

near me as the day wears on and see that I sit as a King, tall

and proud, upon the Causeway Field. Let none know that my

body weakens; I must be a King to the last breath. Errant shall

draw the Nighthorses into a wide battle crescent behind us

and Thunderstone shall stand at my right hand, his horse-tail

sword driven point deep into the turf. The city folk will form

the second sweep of the crescent with Angis before them, for

they must witness the Nightmare's end and the new beginnings

of Elundium.'

 

King Holbian sighed, leaning wearily on the horseman's

arm. 'What of Grey Goose and the mason, my Lord; where

shall they wait out the new daylight?'

 

Holbian laughed, a flicker of warmth flooding through his

fingertips. 'Where else, Breakmaster, but in their rightful

place, beside their King at the centre of the battle crescent?'

 

'It shall be done, Lord,' the horseman whispered, rising to

search out Errant, Grey Goose and Thunderstone, the

Keeper of World's End, and marshal them for the new

daylight.

 

'Wait!' Holbian cried, clinging on to Breakmaster's hand.

 

 

'If fate turns against us and Krulshards brings his darkest

Nightmares down on to the Causeway Field the battle

crescent must stand against him and we as its centre must

lead the way into battle, and be the first to face Krulshards!'

 

'Here you have led us, Lord, to win the daylight and here

we shall stand, glad to be at your side, singing aloud the name

of the greatest Granite King.'

 

Holbian sighed and eased his grip on Breakmaster's hand.

 

301

 

 

'Stand with me awhile, dear friend, and remember how we

helped him start, a mere boy, thrust forward by fate.'

 

'Who, Lord?' asked the horseman, drawing his eyebrows

into a frown.

 

King Holbian laughed quietly. 'Once your life hung in the

balance, waiting for the noonday bell to strike while he lay at

the feet of the untameable horse. Have you forgotten.?'

 

'Thanehand!' Breakmaster cried, turning to look at the

King. 'Thoron's grandson, Thane?'

 

Holbian nodded and turned back towards the dark shape of

Mantern's Mountain.

 

'Now we wait once more, only this time all of Elundium

waits with us. His name is on every warrior's lips and the

sparkling standard that the owls took from Thunderstone is

the scarf that he took from his mother's pocket before he left

the Granite City. The boy we helped along the road has

grown in strength and purpose, Breakmaster, and holds all

our fates in his sword arm. I knew it, or half guessed it a long

time ago. I am sure that he is the one that will make old

legends come to life.'

 

'Legends, Lord? What legends do we wait for upon the

Causeway?'

 

King Holbian smiled and in little more than a whisper

repeated what he could remember of Nevian's words from

long ago. 'And he shall set his standard and it shall light the

shadowy Causeway Field and it will be the sign of the new

Elundium, the sign of our new King!'

 

'Lord! You are my King, young in heart, strong and brave

enough. You have led the people through their blackest

despair.'

 

'No! I cannot climb to the high plateau. I am too old to face

the Nightmare but any man who can walk in the darkness and

destroy Krulshards, he shall be the new King, and you must

treat him so, with full honour, for he will have stepped where

no other would or could and saved the daylight for all to

share.'

 

302

 

Breakmaster sadly shook his head. 'But I will lose you,

Lord, and I could never serve another.'

 

'It may be hard, dear friend, and in memory of me you will

give all of that love to whoever walks free of the darkness.

Pledge yourself now, for he will need.someone to trust in the

daylights to come. Someone strong who will watch the

shadows without flinching and someone honest who takes

nothing for himself. Pledge it and ease my troubled heart, for

it is no easy matter to hand over a kingdom. Pledge it and

lighten my last daylight.'

 

Breakmaster reluctantly knelt and, kissing the hilt of his

sword, offered it to the King. Teardrops glistened, reflecting

the starlight on the smooth fluted handle of the sword.

 

'It is done!' said the King, passing the sword back into

Breakmaster's hand and helping him to his feet. 'The new

kingdom of Elundium is lucky to have such a friend. Go now

and ready the battle crescent for the greatest daylight of the

Granite Kings. Go, before the grey hours touch the sky!'

 

303

 

 

A Sword ir' the Sunlight

 

'Where is Thaneland?' Krulshards hissed, cracking the

twelve-tailed whip impatiently at Kerhunge's head.

 

'Master,' Kerhunge cried, ducking under the flailing whip

tails, 'the foul Galloperspawn waits at the doorcrack; he

watches the sky and looks out across the wildness of Elundium

towards the wide crescent of Marchers and Gallopers

that have ringed our beautiful city.'

 

Krulshards sneered, pulling at the life thread, and rattling

the chains that bound Elionbel from the domed roof of the

chamber. 'Marchers are gathering, Marcherwomen, but they

cannot help you. Gallopers are riding on the lower slopes, but

they are all afraid of the dark. Even the brave Galloperspawn,

Thanehand, hesitates; perhaps he is also afraid!'

 

Laughing, the Nightmare lifted Kruel above his head,

holding him easily in his bone black fingers, taunting Elionbel

with the baby, just beyond her reach. 'When the Galloper- .

spawn is dead all Elundium shall be yours!' Chuckling he

tossed the baby high into the darkness.

 

'Master!' Kerhunge whispered, touching the edge of they

malice, 'the foul Galloperspawn is not alone; the Archer with

the Great Bow of Orm and the lady who rides the crystal- .

tipped stag are with him.' ].

 

Krulshards caught the baby and quickly hid it in the folds

of his malice. 'Do they fear the dark, Captainbeast?' he

hissed, picking at the loose strips of grey flesh that hung

below his cheekbone. 'Will they enter the darkness?'

 

304

 

_ .

 

e

 

p

e

 

s

 

:

 

I

t

 

;

 

1

 

~     ~.

 

'Master, they wait, statue still, watching the sky.'

 

'Wait!' shrieked the Nightmare, raising the twelve-tailed

whip. 'I will teach them to wait!'

 

With both hands on the twisted black handle he brought

the whip down across Elionbel's back, cutting through the

fabric of her cloak and bodice. Twelve iron whip tails tore into

her skin, making her scream out, sending an echo of her pain

rippling through the City of Night.

 

Krulshards raised the whip again, hesitated and tossed it

aside. 'One cry is enough from my lure, that will draw

Thanehand to us!'

 

Turning to Kerzolde he grasped him by his iron collar and

pulled him into the malice. Secretly he drew the baby out of

the folds of his cloak and kissed him, dribbling black bubbling

spittle across the top of his head.

 

'I cannot risk Kruel, he is not strong enough to defend the

darkness or enjoy my revenge, you shall be the guardian of my

seed,' he said, pushing the baby, Kruel, through the narrow

opening in Kerzolde's armoured jerkin.

 

'If Thanehand comes too close to me or the Archer

threatens my life, kill both the Marcherwomen and escape

with it. Take it far away into a darker place and make it

 

 

strong; feed it on dark meats and carrion flesh for it is the new

Power of Darkness that will blacken all Elundium.'

 

'Master, I hear footsteps,' Kerhunge cried, tugging at the

hems of the malice. 'Thanehand and the two followers have

entered the City of Night.'

 

Elionbel heard Thane's distant footsteps and shook her

mother's shoulder urgently, desperately trying to wake her

from the dark dreams she had sunk into. But the Nightmare

birth and the greedy feeding of the infant as he sat astride

Martbel's belly had almost drained her life away. Wearily she

mumbled, half opening her eyes.

 

'Mother! Mother! Thane has come to rescue us!' Elionbel

shouted fiercely, slapping Martbel's sunken cheeks. 'Mother

wake up!'

 

305

 

 

aKrulshards laughed, pulling Elionbel away behind the folds

of his malice.

 

Beyond the door crack, mumed by the darkness, Thane

heard the single tortured scream and took a giant stride

towards the mountain wall.

 

'Elionbel!' he cried, clenching his empty hands.

 

Turning, he once again searched the dawn-bright sky.: 'Fate

has abandoned me,' he whispered, his face drawn into tight lines

of despair. 'I cannot wait any longer for a sword to use against

Krulshards. I will go with nothing in my hands other than the

dagger blade that Duclos gave me on the lawns of

Gildersleeves.'

 

'You have the great Bows of Orrn and Clatterford and the

crystal-tipped arrows forged with the light of the sun,' Eventine

said, quietly necking her pledge arrow on to the string.

 

'No! You are both pledged to end Elionbel's torment; do not

weaken my purpose. There is no room for doubt or a second

arrow strike if I am to charge straight at the Nightmare. In my

moment of despair let me hear the sweet music of your bows

and know that you have ended Elion's pain.'

 

Silently Eventine and Kyot locked hands with Thane, the

two pledged arrow-shafts and the blade of the dagger

touching. 'It will be done,' Kyot whispered as they walked

towards the black door crack.

 

Eventine paused beside Tanglecrown, putting her hand into

the centre of his antlers, touching the velvet-soft crown. 'Guard

the entrance, watch over the daylight until we return.'

 

Stumble and Sprint reared, neighing, while Tanglecrown

lifted his glittering antlers towards the rising sun and roared

out a challenge at the dark shadows in the valley below. Kyot

trembled and cried out as the darkness swallowed him up but

Eventine reached out her hand and comforted him in the dark.

 

'Remember the dark chamber at Clatterford; reach out and

touch the darkness and put your fear behind you.'

 

306

 

Thane walked two paces ahead, his left hand outstretched

against the rough rock wall. Before them the stench of

Krulshards grew stronger and stronger, filling the dark road.

 

'Thanehand!' taunted a cruel voice, whispering them

forward. 'Come to me, Thanehand, and see how the Elionbel

dangles on my life thread, chained in my high chamber!'

 

Thane swallowed his fear, shutting his ears to the

Nightmare's taunts and forged ahead. Twice during the long

morning climb up through the darkness Eventine called out,

begging Thane to ease the pace. 'Kyot has no sight in the dark;

he stumbles and trips with each footstep.'

 

Thane halted and waited, taking Kyot's hand into his own to

help him forward. 'I am a burden without Rockspray's sharp

eyes at my shoulder,' Kyot muttered, gritting his teeth against

the darkness. 'A useless blundering blind man who slows you

up.'

 

Thane squeezed Kyot's hand. 'Only a true friend would have

the courage to step into the darkness and I love you for it.'

 

Kyot stumbled on in silence, his bow arm locked through

Eventine's, his arrow hand gripping Thane's sleeve.

 

The walls on either side of them suddenly fell away, the dark

road had reached a vast low-domed chamber. Thane stopped,

choking on the rotten stench.

 

'Thanehand!' shrieked a voice.

 

'Nigh/stealer!' sneered another.

 

'Welcome, welcome, Thanehand,' whispered Krulshards,

raising his bone black fingers for silence, and shaking the

chains that bound Elionbel's wrists.

 

 

Thane took a step forward and saw that the chamber walls

were lined with Nightshards; huge shadowy figures that dryrattled

as they turned their blind faces towards him. In the

centre of the the chamber Krulshards waited beside two long

loops of chain. The folds of his malice and the outer edges of

the hems had been spread in the shape of a black fan, each tuck

and twist cleverly piled on top of the next. Beside

 

307

 

 

athe Nightmare on either side crouched his Captainbeasts,

Kerzolde and Kerhunge. Kerzolde spat Thane's name on to the

dusty floor, leaving a trickle of bubbling spittle dribbling down

his scaly chin.

 

Krulshards laughed, his skinless face bloated with victory.

 

'Thanehand,' he hissed, slowly drawing aside the hem of his.

malice to reveal Elionbel. 'Here is your Elionbel, the lure that

brought you into the darkness,' he shrieked with delight,

grasping her wrist and pulling her forwards, tripping her on the

black folds of the malice.

 

'Thane! Thane!' she began to shout, stumbling on to her

knees, fighting with both hands to stop the glistening life

thread from choking her.

 

Krulshards snarled, sweeping the other hem of the malice

aside and kicking Martbel out on to the dusty floor. Thane

reached for the dagger but froze as Elionbel screamed, her face

blackened and distorted by the choking thread. The Nightmare

laughed.

 

'Touch me, Thanehand, or even move one little finger and

the thread tightens!'

 

Looking past Thane the Nightmare froze Eventine and Kyot

with a hateful stare. 'I will take your arrows, foul Archers, pluck

them from the bows, before you ease your fingers on the

strings.'

 

Thrusting both women aside Krulshards strode across the

chamber towards Thane. 'You are mine, Galloperspawn!' he

shouted, throwing his head back and cackling with delight, but

he stopped, rooted with doubt, his mouth hanging silently

open, his bone black fingers pointing up into the domed roof.

'What is that?' he hissed, releasing the Archers from his hateful

stare, and they both bent their bows, the grey goose flight

feathers touching their cheeks.

 

'Wait!' cried Eventine. 'Look at the glass arrow-blades; they

are beginning to glow. There must be daylight here in the City

of Night.'

 

Thane made a grab for the dagger but stopped, looking up

 

308

 

into the dome above his head to see what had made Krulshards

hesitate in his moment of victory. A fine trickle of stone dust

was falling, he could hear a grating sound in the roof. A sharp

metal point, twisting and turning, suddenly broke through the

black rock; a pinpoint of light flooded through the darkness,

burning a bright white light on to the glass-tipped arrow blades.

 

'Thane,' a faint voice shouted from somewhere above the

dome. The trickle of dust and pebbles became a torrent as the

chamber roof collapsed in a thunderous shower of rocks.

Sunlight flooded the high chamber, casting long shadows

across the dusty floor.

 

Krulshards screamed, shrinking back into the malice away

from the light, grabbing with his fingers for the shadowy hood.

Twisting his head he saw his own shadow spread out across

the floor and jumped backwards away from it. The life thread

glittered in the sunlight as it closed around Elionbel's throat.

 

'Aim at the life thread,' Eventine cried and in that instance

Kyot knew the wisdom of Fairday's words and, clear-eyed he

aimed at the spider-thin and glittering thread. Both bows sang

together, loosing their blazing glass-tipped spines across the

chamber.

 

Thane looked up past the shadowy malice up through the

collapsing roof and saw the sky edged with stoops of owls,

proud Warhouses and fierce Border Runners. Wave after wave

of them leapt down into the chamber, neighing and growling, as

they fell upon the Nightshards. Mulcade and Rockspray

stooped through the ragged hole, the summer scarf stretched

taut in their talons, its sparkling light driving back the shadows.

Thane laughed and pointed out into the sunlight where high

above the mountainside a mighty owl hovered, shadowing the

sun as he searched, following the Warhorses towards a black

dust-filled hole.

 

 

'Eagle Owl!' Thane shouted, seeing the flash of bright metal

in the owl's talons. 'Fairday foretold that you would

 

309

 

 

come to me but I doubted his wisdom. Come to me quickly

for I have great need of the blade you carry!'

 

'Tread on the Nightmare's shadow!' Willow cried out as he

struggled to free himself from the pile of roof rubble that had

collapsed and brought him down into the chamber.

 

Thane hesitated, turning to search for Willow's voice as

Eagle Owl plunged to earth.

 

'Step on his shadow and freeze him before he vanishes

amongst the Nightshards! Quickly, quickly!' Willow urged,

rising to his feet, his stone searcher ready to plunge into the

nearest Nightshard.

 

Eagle Owl burst into the chamber, delivering the sword

into Thane's outstretched hand.

 

Elionbel choked as the life thread burned a black mark

around her throat, she heard the arrows sing and shut her

eyes as the glass blades cut into the life thread, exploding in

one flash of white light. Briefly the thread tightened, the

severed ends thrashing and wriggling as it withered away.

Reaching up Elionbel tore at it, digging her broken fingernails

into the slippery skinless sinews.

 

'Mother!' she screamed, kicking out at the Nightbeast,

Kerzolde, as he bent over Martbel, stabbing at her with his

cruel curved dagger.

 

Kerzolde jumped away beyond the full stretch of her chains

and fled. Clutching the baby, Kruel, secretly inside his

armoured jerkin he dodged away amongst the Nightshards

and vanished into a dark hole at the far end of the i-.

chamber. Elionbel rose, shouting a curse, to follow

but Kerhunge rushed past her, knocking her down next to

Martbel.

 

'Mother!' Elionbel cried, gathering her up into her arms,

'oh Mother, Mother!' she wept, rocking her backwards and

forwards.

 

Martbel slowly opened her eyes, searching blindly in the

shafts of sunlight. 'Daughter,' she whispered, her lips hardly

moving.

 

310

 

.:

 

'I am here,' Elionbel answered, weaving their fingers

together.

 

'Hide my shame, child, bury all knowledge of the bastard

beast. Promise me that you will take it from the folds of the

malice. Promise me.'

 

Elionbel bent low, tears of despair and love coursing down

her cheeks. 'None will ever know of it, Mother.'

 

'Not even Thane. Promise me, child.'

 

Elionbel nodded, biting her lips.

 

Martbel sighed, a trickle of blood escaping from the corner

of her mouth.

 

'Kill it, Elionbel, I beg you. Kill it before all Elundium is

cursed with its eternal darkness.'

 

Elionbel blinked away her tears and dabbed away at the

blood on her mother's lips. 'I swear that I will kill it,' she

whispered.

 

Martbel smiled, her eyes growing pale and distant. 'Tell

your father that I love him. Tell him .. .'

 

Martbel slumped forwards, her head sinking into the crook

of Elionbel's arm. For long moments she knelt holding her

mother, whispering her promise, deaf and blind to the battle

that raged all about her as the Warhorses and the savage

Border Runners fought amongst the Nightshards and the

Nightbeasts that flooded into the chamber. Kyot and Eventine

moved as one through the chamber following Krulshards,

 

 

felling every blind beast he tried to reach. The centre of the

chamber was littered with dead Nightshards. Krulshards ran

amongst them, trying to lose his shadow, but always Thane

was a pace behind him and whichever way he turned the

Archers were destroying his Nightshards, crumpling their

shadows to nothing. There was nowhere left to hide.

 

Turning, he lunged with two black blades he had drawn

from beneath the malice. Slashing with hatred he cursed at

Thanehand.

 

'Here, Nightmare, here,' cried Thane, ducking under

Krulshards' thrust. Gradually he had been moving into the

 

311

 

 

main shah of sunlight away from where Elionbel was chained,

drawing the Nightmare towards a tall column of stone that

rose towards the broken roof. Movement on the edge of his

sight made him look quickly back.

 

'Elionbel!' he cried with joy to see her safe and alive,

huddled on the chamber floor with Martbel in her arms.

Laughing, he looked back into Krulshards' eyes. Now there

was no lure, nothing to trap him and divide his purpose. Now

he could destroy the Nightmare.

 

Krulshards stepped backwards, into the bright ray of

sunlight, stumbling with fear, and turned to flee but the

severing of his life thread had weakened him and Thane

quickly overtook him, treading firmly on his shadow, freezing

him to the floor.

 

'I know your weakness, Nightmare!' he cried, raising his

sword.

 

'NO! NO!' Krulshards screamed, dropping both black

blades and throwing his hands across his face to shut out-the

light. The Nightshards and the Nightbeasts in the chamber

hesitated at their master's scream, turning helplessly towards

him.

 

Thane lunged forward, both hands gripping the hilt of the

sword Eagle Owl had delivered and drove it against the folds

of the malice. Bright sparks danced along the blade, spraying

up in stinging fountains of hot metal as the shadowy fabric

shredded into ribbons. Deeper and deeper the blade sank,

melting the armourer's new-forged steel, buckling and splitting

it away from the long splinter of black Nightmare steel

forged into its centre.

 

Krulshards felt the point of the sword cut into his flesh and

lashed out, tearing desperately at Thane's face, hooking his

bone black fingers around his neck.

 

'Thanehand!' he screamed, tightening his grip.

 

Thane choked, stumbling on to his knees, gasping for

breath.

 

'Nightmare!' he gurgled, throwing his weight against the

 

312

 

f

 

.

.

t

 

C

 

;

 

,:

 

, ~

r

, ~

,

 

sword, feeling it slice through the Nightmare's layers of rotten

flesh until it pierced into his black heart. Krulshards' fingers

twitched and trembled, his head jerked backwards and the

ruined blade tore through the back of the malice and struck

the tall column, shearing into the black marble, fusing with

the rock.

 

Thane took his hands off the hilt of the sword and reached

for the dagger in one hand, and with the other he snatched a

handful of the Nightmare's dead locks and slashed with the

dagger at Krulshards' throat, cutting through layer after layer

of the rotten flesh. Sparks burned his hands and black blood

splashed on to his face but he was blind to the terror that

fought at him and deaf to the screams of defeat as Krulshards

writhed against the sword. One last mighty slash and he tore

the Nightmare's head away from his shoulders, threw it high

up into the shaft of sunlight and watched it tumble slowly back

on to the chamber floor.

 

 

'Die, foul Nightmare and rid Elundium of your darkness,'

Thane cried, rising from his knees and tearing Krulshards'

lifeless bone black fingers from his throat.

 

An eerie silence filled the chamber. Everywhere Nightbeasts

and Nightshards lay dead or dying in the shafts of the

morning sunlight. It was over. The shadows were lifting.

Krulshards was no more.

 

Elionbel's chains snapped as the Nightmare died and she

ran to Thane's side and began searching frantically between

the folds of the malice, crying with despair. She sank on to her

knees, clutching at the last shadowy threads and tore them

apart.

 

Thane knelt beside her, pushing the ruined malice aside.

'Elion!'he whispered, gathering her into his arms and gently

lifting her chin with his hand. 'The Nightmare is dead, we are

forever free of his darkness!'

 

Elionbel looked away towards the dark hole where Kerzolde

had escaped and a shadow crossed her face, haunting

her eyes. 'No, Thane,' she whispered, slowly shaking her

 

313

 

 

head. 'This is only the beginning of the real Nights

 

darkness that will cover all Elundium.'   .

 

.

 

314
