The Lady's Man (51 page)

Chapter Thirty Nine.

Hammeral. The last time Yorik had seen it the city had been a ruin. The trees had been shattered and strewn everywhere. The ground had been full of craters. Fires had burnt out of control, blackening everything. A brown disease had started claiming every remaining piece of green. And there had been bodies everywhere. That had been a month ago.

A month later things were much the same. The trees that had once supported the city lay on their sides, broken and burnt, covering the clearing. And where they had once stood proud there were now only shattered stumps and craters – all of them covered with a sickly brown rot.

The hot summer sun had dried out the bodies, lessening the smell a little, but there were still flies everywhere. Most of the bodies had been dismembered, chewed on and eaten by the scavengers. But with so many dead there was only so much they could do. They would need an army of scavengers to complete the job. And so there were still hundreds or thousands of largely intact, dried out bodies everywhere. Most of them were decomposing and returning to the soil. But it would be years before they were gone, unless the people could finally return to the city and begin the task of burying them. But they couldn't do that while the thane remained in the world. To return in numbers would be to bring him back.

That was his job. And until he did it, the jackals and the buzzards would own the city. The flies would fill the air with their song of death and decay. The stench of death would cover it all.

But as bad as what he was looking at was, it felt worse knowing that a near replica of this scene could be seen in many other cities and towns. It was a scene that he feared could now be found in Ender's Fall too. His home; gone.

That knowledge burned within him. It had burned within him for all the long days and nights that they had raced back to Hammeral. It frightened him as he wondered just how many more friends he had lost. The rest of his family as well. And it made him angry. But that was something he could not allow himself to be.

Annalisse was right. He was only human after all, and there was a very great fury burning within him. Just as there would be in so many others. And this thane, despite all the things he had been told, was responsible. It might not be Mayfall after all, the monster that had murdered his family. But it was the one that was responsible for the destruction of these cities. For the death of millions. And if he didn't stop it, the deaths of a great many more. He could not allow anger to guide him. He had to stick to the plan.

“Lady.” Yorik called to her, pleased that he still could. Soon he wouldn't be able to. The thane would be here and she would be gone. But for the moment she was a warm presence filling him. A comfort when he needed one. She was the mother every child needed.

“The others are far enough away.”

“Good.” That was the plan. More importantly it was what needed to be. He had to face the thane alone, and with no one who could be held as a hostage against him. That was why he'd walked alone into the ruined city while the others had ridden away. This was his fight, even though it was not a fight at all.

“The battle ground is ready.”

Battle ground – it was just such a wrong word for a city. But the Lady was right; this was to be the scene of the battle. It was already ruined, there was no one left to be hurt by whatever happened here. It was linked to the thane by his act of wanton destruction. While he existed there would be a sort of bond between them. Just as there was between every murderer and his crime. Guilt, shame, triumph – whatever the emotion, it would always be there within the killer. And perhaps most important of all, it was here that Annalisse had predicted the final battle would take place. Though as he'd prepared for the battle Yorik couldn't help but let one unworthy thought slip loose a little. That instead of predicting the future, she was actually shaping events so that they matched her predictions. He wondered if others were having similar thoughts.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes.” And strangely he was. He was exhausted despite having slept a full night, and his body ached like that of an old man. He knew that he was no match for what was coming and that he would likely die. But it was the end. Finally. One way or another he would not have to worry about Mayfall ever again.

“Then take.”

The Lady filled him with her power even as she said the words and he accepted it. Or at least as much of it as he could. Her power was so immense that no mortal could ever contain it, least of all him. But still he took everything he could. He welcomed it into every bone and sinew within his flesh. He filled his heart and soul with it. He welcomed it in his fingertips and in his toes. Every part of him accepted her strength. Accepted it and held it to him.

That was the strange thing about it. Normally when he welcomed her to him he let her use him as she wished. He held nothing within himself. It was something that over the years had become as natural as breathing. But this wasn't breathing. This was holding his breath, and it wasn't natural at all. Not to him.

“Thank you.”

Soon he was full – too soon – and he had to stop her. He simply couldn't contain that much magic within himself and simply holding on to what he had been given was an effort. It wasn't enough. But it was all he could hold. Unfortunately, when pitted against the thane it wasn’t enough. There was no such thing as enough. Still, it would have to do.

“So little.” She could have been talking about the magic she'd given him but he suspected she was actually speaking about him.

“And hopefully harder to hit because of it. You should go My Lady.”

He didn't mean it. He could never want her to leave him. But it was what had to be.

“Life and love.”

The Lady reminded him of his vows with her final words, and he was grateful for them. Not for the vows themselves, but because the vows were not actually vows at all. That was what few outside the Order would understand. He hadn't so much taken any vows as discovered the vows that were already a part of him. The words were simply who he was. For a while he had forgotten that in his grief. He had forgotten himself.

And then she was gone and he was left standing there in the ruined city, his task ahead of him. It was time.

Yorik cast the first of the spells upon himself; invisibility and stillness. It was best to be ready before the thane arrived. The endless drills had done their job and the shapes came instantly to him. A good night's sleep, some healing, and just a tinge of fear, was helping him. Maybe more than a tinge of fear.

Then when he was ready he placed Myral's little gift on the ground, stepped a little way away from it, and spoke the words to activate it.

What the little box actually was or how it worked he didn't know. What he did know was that the thane had attacked Hammeral because he had seen the arrival of the Order in the city and perceived it as being a threat, and that he kept an eye on the city even now after it had been destroyed. The spelled box would somehow present an image and a clarion call that would be noticed by the thane. Something that would tell him that Yorik still lived. And that would hopefully be enough to bring him to Hammeral. Once he arrived of course, it was Yorik's task to keep him there and defeat him. It was just that he couldn’t do it by fighting him.

The thane was indestructible. Yorik had to keep reminding himself of that. He could not fight him any more than he could fight the wind or the tides. His sword no matter how well enchanted would cause him no harm. In fact should it touch him it would immediately be consumed as would any magic sent his way. It would also tell the thane precisely where he was and spell his doom. That was why he had sent it away. The Nameless had no weaknesses. It was a hard thing to understand, and harder still for a paladin – a man trained to fight for a cause – to accept. But he had to accept it.

He also had to accept the fact that the thane might not come. Or that if he did come he might not be in a hurry. Yorik hadn't expected that. For some reason he'd imagined that the thane would show up almost the instant he activated the box. But as the long minutes dragged by and nothing happened, he slowly realised that that wasn't the case.

Twenty minutes passed the same way and by then Yorik was beginning to feel a little worried. What if he didn't come? What then? Was the box even working? Maybe the spell had failed.

Yorik was also starting to run a little down on his vitality. He'd been bursting with strength until then, filled with nervous excitement as he prepared himself for battle. But as time passed by and nothing happened that excitement was beginning to wane. At least he knew enough to keep the Lady's magic close to him and hold the shapes tight. That magic was his only safety.

Ten minutes later he gave up on standing and found a broken tree branch to sit on. There were enough of them around that he didn't have to look far for one. And so he sat down and prepared to wait.

Another hour passed by and he slowly began to convince himself that the box wasn't working. That something had gone wrong with the spell.

But suddenly he saw a few of the undead appear at the far end of the clearing – just a few of them surveying the ruined city – and realised the truth. The thane was simply taking his time, checking out the area before he showed. Unbelievably the thane was being cautious.

That made little sense to Yorik. Mayfall, had he been alive would have been wary, worried about stepping into a trap, but the thane had no reason for worry. He was beyond the ability of anyone to harm. He was after all the Nameless. Or was there more of Mayfall in him than the elders thought?

Or could they be wrong? After all that they'd said about the thane could he actually be Mayfall?

The thought was a trap. A danger to him. Yorik knew that. He had to remember the plan. He had to fight the thane as if he wasn't Mayfall, only a memory of him. But it was hard to put the idea out of his mind. More than hard when ten minutes later he watched the thane himself enter the clearing.

It was Mayfall!

Even the best part of a league away and little more than a smudge in the distance Yorik knew that. He knew it and immediately reached for his sword thinking to stab him through the heart the moment he came near enough. But his hand found no sword hilt, and that reminded him of the plan. Of how he had to fight the thane. It wouldn't be with sword in hand. It would be with the words in his mouth. So instead of drawing his weapon he stood and found a clear spot to stand, knowing that his defence would be in running and hiding and his attack only in his words.

Mayfall came toward him, or rather the box, walking quickly. Actually he wasn't really walking at all. His body moved as though he was walking, but he covered far more ground with every step than a man could. In truth he was walking as fast as a horse could gallop. Yorik's mouth went dry as he saw that. Whatever it was it was powerful magic. It also reminded him how Mayfall had simply flung him against the stone wall of the ancient temple before with barely a thought. Whether he was Mayfall or the Nameless, he was unbelievably powerful. Yorik dearly wanted his sword just then. Even though he knew it would be useless he felt naked without it.

Mayfall crossed the distance between them incredibly quickly, while Yorik stood there waiting for him, and checked that he had clear paths to escape. And all the while he studied his enemy, trying desperately to tell if it was truly the Nameless. But everything about him said Mayfall. The angular lines and planes of his gaunt face, the way he moved as if he ruled the world, the superior smirk. It might all be some sort of incomprehensible magic at work, but there was nothing to say that the man heading his way was anything other than the foul wizard who had murdered his family.

At least Yorik managed to control his rage. He tempered it with all the words the others had given him; with the vows he had been reminded of that he had sworn as a paladin, with the image of Mayfall's death so clear in his memories, and with just a little fear as he knew how dangerous the wizard was. The fact that he had no weapons on him helped as well. He wanted to kill him again, to run him through with his sword, but he couldn't.

Finally Mayfall arrived in front of Yorik and then stared at the little wooden box, realising that this was the source of whatever had been calling to him. Then he looked around suspiciously as he studied the area closely. Clearly he thought that this was some sort of trap. More evidence perhaps that he really was Mayfall, but also proof that he couldn't penetrate Yorik's spell of invisibility. That mattered.