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[ { "from": "system", "value": "Move the story forward in your role as narrative aide.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, short stories\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: Sword of Destiny\nChapter: 2" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"This isn't my lover. We hardly know each other.\"\n\n\"Is that so?\" Sh'eena said, surprised. \"That's a pity. You really do make a beautiful couple. Who is she?\"\n\n\"My name is Essi Daven, I am a poet,\" sang Little-Eye, modulating her voice in a melodious and expressive air next to which Geralt's inflections sounded like a croak. \"I am pleased to meet you, Sh'eenaz.\"\n\nThe young siren struck her hands flat on the water, laughing loudly.\n\n\"How beautiful!\" she cried. \"You know our language! Really, you humans amaze me. We are not so different after all.\"\n\nThe witcher was no less surprised than the siren, though he could have guessed that the girl, more educated than he, would know the Old Tongue, the language of elves that sirens, sea witches, and naiads used in their melodies. He also noticed that the complexity of the melodies that were so difficult for him presented Little-Eye with no major difficulty.\n\n\"Sh'eenaz,\" he said. \"Somethings do separate us, even if blood flows through us both! Who... Who killed the pearl divers near the two stones? Tell me!\"\n\nThe siren dived, disturbing the water before reappearing at the surface. Her pretty face suddenly contorted into a terrible grimace:\n\n\"Don't tempt fate!\" she cried in a shrill voice. \"Don't go near the Steps! Not you! Don't enter into conflict with them! Not you!\"\n\n\"What? Why not us?\"\n\n\"Not you!\" repeated the siren, falling back against the waves.\n\nWater rose up from the splash. They saw her tail once more, her narrow fin spread to strike against the surface of the waves. The siren disappeared into the depths." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Little-Eye smoothed her wind-blown hair. She remained motionless, lost in thought.\n\n\"I didn't know,\" said Geralt, clearing his throat, \"that you knew the Old Tongue so well, Essi.\"\n\n\"You couldn't know,\" she replied with bitterness in her voice. \"You hardly know me, isn't that right?\"\n\nVI\n\n\"Geralt...\" Dandelion said, looking around and sniffing the air like a hunting dog. \"What is that stench, do you smell it?\"\n\n\"No, not really...\" said the witcher, sniffing. \"I've been to smellier places. It's only the smell of the sea.\"\n\nThe bard turned his head to spit between the rocks. The water foamed and churned in the gaps between the stones, revealing sandy ravines washed by the waves.\n\n\"Looks like everything is perfectly dry, Geralt. But where did all that water go? How does the tide bloody work? Have you ever asked yourself that?\"\n\n\"No. I've had other things on my mind.\"\n\nDandelion trembled slightly:\n\n\"I think the lowest depths of the bloody ocean hide an enormous monster, a revolting scaly beast, a huge toad with horns on its repulsive face. From time to time, he swallows the water along with everything that lives in it: fish, seals, turtles, everything. After he swallows it all, he makes water: that's the tide. What do you think?\"\n\n\"I think you're a complete idiot. Yennefer explained tome once that the tides are linked to the moon.\"\n\n\"What nonsense! What do the sea and the moon have to do with each other? Only dogs howl at death under the moon. She was mocking you, Geralt, the little liar. I know it wouldn't be the first time, after all.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The witcher did not comment on Dandelion's words. He watched the rocky ravines,\n\ngleaming with moisture after the sea's retreat. The water continued to rise and fall, but it seemed that they would be able to pass.\n\n\"Well, time to get to work,\" he said, rising and adjusting the sword carried on his shoulder. \"We can't wait around for high tide. Dandelion, you still insist ongoing with me?\"\n\n\"Yes. Subjects for ballads don't lie around like pine cones under a Christmas tree. Besides, it's Doll's birthday tomorrow.\"\n\n\"I don't seethe connection.\"\n\n\"Pity. We, the normal people, are in the habit of giving gifts at birthdays. Since we don't have the money to buy something, I'll find something at the bottom of the sea.\"\n\n\"A herring? A cuttlefish?\"\n\n\"You can be such an idiot. I'll find amber, a seahorse, or perhaps a pretty shell. It's the symbol that's important: a sign of thoughtfulness and affection. I like Little-Eye and I want to make her happy. Don't you understand that? That's what I thought. Come on. You first, because a monster could strike at any instant.\"\n\n\"Fine.\" The witcher descended the stonewall covered with slimy algae. \"I go in front to protect you from harm. That will be my sign of thoughtfulness and affection. Just remember: if I shout, run for your life and don't get in the way of my sword. We're not hereto look for seahorses, but to size up a killer monster.\"\n\nThey descended to the bottom of the ravine, at times paddling through the water in the cracks and pools filled with sand and seaweed. To improve the situation, it began to rain: Geralt and Dandelion were soon soaked from head to toe. The troubadour was constantly stopping to search the sand and seaweed with a stick." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Oh, look, Geralt, a fish." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Completely red, by the devil. And here, a little eel. And that? What's this? It looks like a translucent louse. And this... Oh my! Geralt!\"\n\nThe witcher turned abruptly, his hand moving to the hilt of his sword.\n\nIt was a human skull, white, polished by sand, embedded in a crack filled with sand. Dandelion trembled at the sight of an annelid wriggling in the eye socket and gave an unpleasant cry. The witcher shrugged and led the way to the stone platform unveiled by the waves. Ahead, the two Dragon's Teeth were as imposing as mountains. He watched cautiously. The ground was littered with sea cucumbers, shells and seaweed. In the puddles and potholes large jellyfish waved and echinoderms undulated. Small crabs as colorful as hummingbirds flew by, waving their legs.\n\nIn the distance Geralt saw a corpse, lying among the stones. The ribcage of the drowned man, infected by crabs inside and out, moved strangely from the algae. The corpse could not have been therefor more than a day, but the crabs had already shredded it so that any closer visual inspection would produce nothing conclusive. The witcher, without a word, veered to avoid the corpse. Dandelion didn't notice.\n\n\"It stinks of decay,\" he said, joining Geralt. Dandelion spat, wringing his drenched hat. \"And it's pouring rain. It's cold. I'll catch cold and lose my voice, damn it...\"\n\n\"Stop complaining. If you want to go back, all you have to do is follow our footsteps.\"\n\nBehind the base of the Dragon's Teeth lay a limestone plateau ending in a pit that opened onto the tranquil waves of the sea: the tide's edge." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dandelion looked around them.\n\n\"Ah, witcher! Your monster has enough sense to retire to sea with the tide. You must have thought he would wait belly-up for you to come along and gut him.\"\n\n\"Shut up.\"\n\nThe witcher approached the edge of the plateau and knelt carefully while holding the tapered shells that covered the rock. He saw nothing. The water was dark and its surface disturbed and opaque from the drizzle.\n\nDandelion entered one of the recesses in the stone, pushing the most insistent crabs with his foot; he looked around and ran his fingers over the walls, dripping with water and covered with loose algae and rugged colonies of shellfish and mussels.\n\n\"Hey, Geralt!\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Look at these shells. They're pearl mussels, aren't they?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Would you know?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Then wait until you know more before forming an opinion. They are pearl mussels, I'm sure. I'll gather some pearls. At least our expedition will bring us some profits, not just a vicious cold. Right, Geralt?\"\n\n\"Gather away. The monster attacks pearl divers. Collectors fall in the same category.\"\n\n\"You want me to act as bait?\"\n\n\"Goon, gather away. Take the larger shells. If they don't contain any pearls, we can always use them for soup.\"\n\n\"And what then? I only want the pearls... The shells can go to hell... Plague take it! How the hell do you open these? Don't you have a knife, Geralt?\"\n\n\"You don't even have a knife with you?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm a poet, not a cut-throat. Oh, nevermind, I'll put them in my bag; we'll get the pearls out later. Hey, you! Get out of my way!\"\n\nThe crab caught by Dandelion's kick flew over Geralt's head and plunged into a wave.\n\nIntrigued by the black mass of water, the witcher slowly followed the edge of the plateau. He heard Dandelion pounding the stone to detach the mussels.\n\n\"Dandelion! Come here, look!\"\n\nBroken, the plateau ended abruptly at aright angle and fell into the sea. Beneath the surface of the water, one could distinctly see large blocks of marble, sides covered with algae, molluscs, and sea anemones waving in their aquatic element like flowers in the wind.\n\n\"What is it? It looks like a staircase.\"\n\n\"It is a staircase,\" Dandelion whispered, impressed. \"Yes. It's a staircase that leads to an underwater city... Just like the legendary Ys that was submerged by the waves. Have you heard the legend of the city of the abyss: Ys-on-the-Water? I'll write a beautiful ballad that will make my rivals green with envy. I must see all of this... Look, there's a sort of mosaic... Something is engraved or molded. Writing? Move over.\"\n\n\"Dandelion! Careful of the depths! You'll slip...\"\n\n\"Of course I won't! In any case, I'm already soaked. Look, it's shallow... On the first step, the water is barely waist-deep. And it's as wide as a ballroom. Oh, damn!\"\n\nGeralt jumped instantly into the water to grab Dandelion by the neck." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I slipped on this shit,\" Dandelion explained breathlessly, holding between his hands a slender and flat molded shell that was cobalt blue and covered in algae. \"They're allover the stairs. The color is beautiful, don't you think? Hey, put it in your bag: mine is already full.\"\n\n\"Get out of here now!\" the witcher roared furiously. \"Get back on the plateau, Dandelion. This isn't a game.\"\n\n\"Quiet. Did you hear something? What was that?\"\n\nGeralt had heard. The sound came from below, from the depths of the water. It had been dull and deep, but short, fleeting, barely perceptible, like the sound of a bell.\n\n\"A bell, by the Beard...\" murmured Dandelion, moving up to the plateau. \"I was right, Geralt, it's the bell of Ys under the water, the bell of the city of ghosts whose sound is muffled by the elemental water. It reminds us of damnation...\"\n\n\"Shut it, okay?\"\n\nThe sound came again, closer.\n\n\"... reminds us,\" the bard continued, squeezing the tails of his coat, \"of our terrible fate. That bell sounds like a warning...\"\n\nThe witcher stopped paying attention to Dandelion's voice to focus his sixth sense. He felt something, or rather the presence of something.\n\n\"It's a warning...\" Dandelion stuck his tongue out slightly, a sign of artistic concentration. \"A warning that... um... we do not forget... um... um... That's it, I have it!\"\n\nThe heart of the bell is deaf, it is the song of death that you hear\n\nOdeath, easier to face than to forget..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The water exploded next to the witcher. Dandelion screamed. From the foam arose a bulging-eyed monster about to strike Geralt with a sharp and toothed instrument, resembling a scythe. Geralt had seized his sword as soon as the water began to swell. Whirling, he cut the loose, scaled neck of the monster. The witcher turned just in time to see another creature rise out of the water under a strange helmet and wearing something resembling a copper breastplate covered in verdigris. With abroad stroke of his sword, Geralt struck the point of the short pike wielded against him and, using his momentum, struck the toothed jaws of the icthyosaur and leapt back toward the edge of the platform with a splash.\n\n\"Run for it, Dandelion!\"\n\n\"Give me your hand!\"\n\n\"Run, damn it!\"\n\nThe next creature appeared in the waves with a hiss, a bloody sword grasped in a rough green paw. The muscles of the witcher's back gave a twitch away from the edge of the shell-studded plateau and allowed him to take position. The fish-eyed creature, however, remained motionless. The same size as Geralt, the water came up to its waist, but an imposing crest bristled on its head and the gills were wide open, giving the impression that it was larger. The grimace drawn across its toothed face resembled nothing so much as a cruel smile.\n\nPaying no attention to the two corpses that floated in the red water, the creature brandished its sword, holding the guardless hilt in both hands. Bristling its beautiful crest and its gills, it skillfully twirled its blade through the air. Gerald heard the hiss and the hum of the weapon.\n\nThe creature took a step forward, forming a wave that crashed against the witcher. Geralt's sword whirled and hissed in response, and stepped forward, in turn, raising the challenge." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The long nimble fingers of the fish-eyed creature shifted on the hilt of the sword. The creature lowered shoulders that were protected by copper and scales, and immersed itself up to its chest, concealing its weapon below the water. The witcher gripped his sword with both hands-the right under the guard and the left near the pommel-and raised it slightly to the side, above his right shoulder. He locked eyes with the monster, but the opalescent fish eyes only offered a teardrop-shaped iris, polished and cold like metal, expressing and betraying nothing. Not even the intention of an attack.\n\nFrom the depths at the bottom of the staircase came the sound of the abyssal bells, more distinctly and increasingly close.\n\nThe fish-eyed monster surged forward and brandished its sword above the water. It attacked to the side and down, much more rapidly than expected. Geralt was lucky: he had predicted that the blow would come from the right. He parried with a downward movement, twisting his body and turning the sword so that the flat of the blade blocked the sword of his adversary. At that moment, everything depended on the speed with which each of them could move from a static block to an offensive stance with a shift of the fingers on the hilt of his\n\nsword. Each of the fighters, ready to deal the decisive blow, had their weight on the right foot. Geralt knew that they were equally fast.\n\nBut the fish-eyed creature had a longer reach.\n\nThe witcher dealt a sideways blow to the haunch and, executing a sharp turn to parry his opponent's blade, easily avoided the wild and desperate swing that the monster returned out of desperation. Without making a sound, it opened its fish-mouth before disappearing beneath the red-brown haze that was suspended in the water.\n\n\"Give me your hand, quick!\" Dandelion yelled. \"More are swimming toward us! I see them!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Seizing the bard's right hand, the witcher came out of the water and climbed onto the stone plateau. Behind him, a huge wave appeared.\n\nThe first sign of the tide.\n\nThey quickly fled before the rising water. Geralt turned and saw a number of other underwater creatures emerge from the sea and join in pursuit, leaping agilely on their strong legs. Without a word, he quickened his pace.\n\nHaving difficulty with the water that reached his knees, Dandelion was panting. Suddenly he stumbled and fell. Holding himself upon his trembling hands, the troubadour floundered in the kelp. Seizing his belt, the witcher pulled him out of the foaming water.\n\n\"Run!\" he cried. \"I'll stop them!\"\n\n\"Geralt!\"\n\n\"Run, Dandelion! The water will close the gap and we won't be able to getaway! Run for your life!\"\n\nDandelion groaned before starting to run again. The witcher followed him, hoping that the monsters would give up the pursuit. Against all of them, he didn't have a chance.\n\nThe creatures caught up at the edge of the fault, because the water strongly favored swimming while the witcher, clinging to the slippery rocks, progressed with more and more difficulty through the churning water. Geralt stopped in the basin where Dandelion had found the skull.\n\nHe stopped and turned, trying to recover his composure.\n\nThe point of his sword pierced the first in the temple and ripped through the second, which was wielding a sort of hatchet. The third fled.\n\nThe witcher tried then to hurry up the ravine, but the swirl of an explosive wave filled the chasm with a crash, tearing at the rocks and pulling him down in its undertow. Colliding with one of the sea creatures, Geralt kicked at it. Something grabbed him by the legs and dragged him toward the depths. His shoulder struck against the rock; the witcher opened his eyes just in time to seethe dark outline of his attackers and two quick flashes. He parried the first with his sword and instinctively blocked the second with his left hand. Geralt felt a shock and pain, then the aggressive irritation of salt. He kicked off from the bottom with his feet. Swimming to the surface, he drew the Sign with his fingers. The muffled explosion pierced his eardrums. If I get through this alive, he thought, striking the water with his hands and feet, if I make it through this, I'll go see Yen Vengerberg, try to do something else... If I get out alive..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He thought he heard the sound of a trumpet or a horn.\n\nThe wave that exploded anew into the shaft threw him face-down onto a large rock. Geralt distinctly heard the horn now, and the screams of Dandelion, reaching him from all directions at once. Snorting saltwater from his nose, he looked around himself, pushing the wet hair from his face.\n\nThe witcher found himself at the point where they began their excursion. Flat on his stomach on the pebbles. All around, the surf was producing white foam.\n\nBehind him, in the ravine that had in the meantime expanded into a bay, a gray\n\ndolphin danced on the waves. The young siren was riding on its back, her celadon hair windblown. Her breasts were magnificent.\n\n\"White-haired one!\" she sang, signaling with a hand that held along spiral shell. \"Are you alive?\"\n\n\"I'm alive,\" the witcher said, astonished.\n\nThe foam around him was becoming pink. The salt on his rigid left shoulder stung intensely. The sleeves of his jacket had been shredded. Blood was flowing. / got out, he thought. / made it again. But no, I will never find her.\n\nHe saw Dandelion approaching at a run over the wet rocks.\n\n\"I've stopped them,\" sang the siren before blowing again into her conch shell. \"But not for long! Run and don't comeback, white-haired one! The sea... It's not for you!\"\n\n\"I know,\" he shouted back. \"I know. Thank you, Sh'eenaz!\"\n\nVII\n\n\"Dandelion,\" asked Little-Eye, using her teeth to tear the end of the bandage while she pressed the knot against the witcher's wrist. \"Can you explain where all those shells packed under the stair came from? Drouhard's wife is doing the housework and she doesn't know what to think.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Shells?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dandelion sounded surprised. \"What shells? I have no idea. Perhaps ducks dropped them on their migration home?\"\n\nGeralt hid his smile in the shadows. He remembered swearing his silence to Dandelion, who spent the whole afternoon opening the shells and digging out the slimy meat. He injured his finger and tore his shirt without finding a single pearl. No surprise there, since there was no chance that they were pearl mussels. The idea of making soup was immediately rejected after opening the first mussel, the appearance of which was so repulsive and the smell so strong that they had tears in their eyes.\n\nLittle-Eye finished Geralt's bandage and sat on the side of the tub. He thanked the girl, inspecting his skillfully bandaged hands. The wound was deep and long enough to reach his elbow; the witcher suffered with each movement. The wound had been temporarily dressed by the sea, but before they could return home, it had started to bleed again. Just before the girl's arrival, Geralt had applied to his forearm an elixir to promote blood clotting and numb the pain. Essi found him in the process of trying, with Dandelion's help, to stitch the wound with fishing line. Essi cursed at them and took overdressing the wounds. Meanwhile, Dandelion recounted the story of the battle, repeating several times that he reserved the exclusive rights to the ballad of the events. Essi, of course, inundated the witcher with questions that he could not answer. She reacted very badly to what she considered an effort to hide something. She became sullen and stopped asking questions.\n\n\"Agloval already knows everything,\" she said. \"You were seen going home, and Drouhard's wife went to tell everyone that she had seen blood on the stairs. Everyone rushed to the rocks in hopes of seeing corpses washed ashore by the waves. They're still looking, but I understand that they've found nothing.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And they will find nothing,\" the witcher said. \"I'll pay a visit to Agloval tomorrow. Ask him, if you can, to stop people from going near the Dragon's Teeth until further notice. But take care not to say a word about this staircase and Dandelion's fantasies about the city of Ys. The treasure-hunters would flock to it in droves and we would have many more corpses on our hands...\"\n\n\"I'm not a gossip.\" Essi pouted, forcefully pushing the circlet back on her forehead.\n\n\"If I ask you something, it's not so that I can run and disclose everything like a washerwoman.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"I have to go out,\" Dandelion informed them. \"I have an appointment with Akeretta. Geralt, I'm taking your jacket, because mine is still dirty and wet.\"\n\n\"Everything is wet here,\" Little-Eye remarked mockingly, giving the pile of clothes on the ground a vengeful kick with her boot. \"How could you? We need to hang the clothesline, dry it properly... You're terrible.\"\n\n\"It will dry out well enough on its own.\"\n\nDandelion extracted the witcher's wet jacket and admired the silver studs riveted to the sleeves.\n\n\"Stop talking nonsense! And that, what is that? Oh no! The bag is still filled with mud and seaweed! And what is that? Ugh!\"\n\nGeralt and Dandelion looked silently at the cobalt blue shell that Essi held in both hands. They had forgotten its existence. The mold that coated it stank horribly.\n\n\"It's a gift,\" said the troubadour, backing toward the door. \"Tomorrow, it's your birthday, isn't it, Doll? Well, it's your present.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It?\"\n\n\"It's beautiful, eh?\" Dandelion sniffed before adding quickly: \"On behalf of Geralt. He's the one who chose it. Oh... It's getting late. Farewell...\"\n\nLittle-Eye was silent fora moment after Dandelion left. The witcher looked at the foul-smelling shell, blushing with shame at the troubadour's attitude and his own.\n\n\"You remembered my birthday?\" Essi asked, formulating each world carefully and holding the shell as far from herself as possible. \"Really?\"\n\n\"Give me that,\" he replied sharply. Geralt got up from his mattress, protecting his bandaged hand. \"I beg your pardon for that idiot...\"\n\n\"But no,\" she protested, seizing the small knife that was hanging from her belt. \"It's a very beautiful shell that I want to keep as a souvenir. I just need to clean it and get rid of... whatever it contains. I'll throw it out the window for the cats.\"\n\nSomething struck the floor, bouncing. Geralt widened his eyes and saw the thing in front of Essi.\n\nIt was a pearl. A perfectly opalescent and polished azure-blue pearl, big as a swollen pea.\n\n\"By the gods...\" Little-Eye saw it in turn. \"Geralt... a pearl!\"\n\n\"A pearl,\" he repeated, laughing. \"You will still get a present, Essi. I'm glad.\"\n\n\"Geralt, I can't accept it. This pearl is worth at least...\"\n\n\"It's yours,\" he interrupted. \"Even if he is an idiot, Dandelion really thought about your birthday. He kept saying that he wanted to please you. And so, fate has had its way.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And you, Geralt?\"\n\n\"Me?\"\n\n\"Do you also want to please me? This pearl is so beautiful... It must be very valuable... You don't regret it?\"\n\n\"I'm glad that you're pleased. And if I regret anything... it's that there is only one. And...\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"And that I haven't known you as long as Dandelion. I didn't know the date of your birthday. I wish I could give you gifts and make you happy... and call you Doll.\"\n\nShe threw herself violently on his neck. Geralt had anticipated the movement, turning his head fora cool kiss on the cheek. He hugged her gently but with some reservation. He felt the girl's body stiffen and slowly withdraw, but no farther than the length of the arms she was\n\nalways resting on her shoulders. He knew what she wanted, but he did not meet her expectations: he was not attracted to her.\n\nEssi released him then and turned toward the dirty window, which was ajar.\n\n\"Of course,\" she said abruptly. \"You hardly know me. I forgot...\"\n\n\"Essi,\" he replied after a moment of silence. \"I...\"\n\n\"I hardly know you either,\" she exploded, interrupting him. \"So what? I love you. I can't do anything about that. Not a thing.\"\n\n\"Essi!\"\n\n\"Yes, I love you, Geralt. It doesn't matter tome what you think. I loved you from the moment I saw you in the wedding hall.\"\n\nThe poet bowed her head in silence.\n\nShe stood right before him; Geralt was sorry that she was not the fish-eyed creature hiding its sword under the water; with it, at least, he had a fighting chance." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You have nothing to say,\" she said. \"Nothing, not a word.\"\n\nI'm tired, he thought, and terribly weak. I need to sit down; my vision is foggy; I've lost some blood; and I haven't eaten anything... I need to sit down. Damn bedroom... May it burn to the ground in a thunderstorm. No furniture; if there were at least two stupid chairs and a table we could share and converse easily and hold hands in safety. I am condemned to sit on a mattress and ask her to do the same. Nothing is more dangerous than a mattress stuffed with straw into which one sinks and has his movements too restricted to dodge...\n\n\"Sit next tome, Essi.\"\n\nThe girl joined him on the mattress, hesitantly and with some delay, far from him. Too far.\n\n\"When I heard,\" she murmured, breaking the silence, \"that Dandelion dragged you back covered in blood, I left the house like a madwoman; I was in shock, Iran blindly. And then... you know what I thought? That it was magic; that you had secretly cast a spell; that you had charmed me with unfair means; your sign, your wOlf s-head medallion, your evil eye. That's what I thought, but I didn't stop running, because I knew then that I accepted... that I surrendered to the influence of your power. But the reality proved to be even worse. You didn't cast anything of the sort, Geralt; you didn't use any spell to seduce me. Why? Why haven't you bewitched me?\"\n\nThe witcher was silent.\n\n\"If it was nothing but magic,\" she continued, \"the situation would be simple and easy to resolve. I would submit, happily, to your power. But then... then I... I don't know what is happening tome...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "By the devil, he thought, if, when she is with me, Yennefer feels exactly what I'm feeling now, I sympathize with her plight. I'll never be surprised by her reactions; I'll never hate them... never.\n\nI expected of Yennefer-as is expected of me now-that the impossible be achieved: something even more impossible than the liaison between Agloval and Sh 'eenaz. Yennefer had the deep conviction that a little dedication was not enough; and that our situation called fora sacrifice over and over again, without any guarantee that it would be enough. No, I will no longer blame Yennefer for being unable and unwilling to give me a little bit of attention. I know now that the smallest trace is as heavy as gold.\n\n\"Geralt,\" moaned Little-Eye, laying her head on his shoulder. \"I am so ashamed of my powerlessness: a sort of supernatural fever, preventing me from breathing freely...\"\n\nGeralt continued to hold his silence.\n\n\"I always thought that it was a sublime and wonderful state of mind; dignified even in disappointment. But love is only vegetative, Geralt, horribly and banally vegetative. It's the state of someone who succumbs to illness, who takes poison. Because, like the one who is\n\npoisoned, the lover is desperate to get any antidote. At all. Even humiliation.\"\n\n\"Essi, I beg you.\"\n\n\"I feel humiliated by the object of my desires, and shamefully condemned to suffer in silence. I am ashamed to have embarrassed you, but I could not do otherwise. Helpless before the fate that afflicts me, it is as if I am sick; completely subject to an external grace. Diseases have always horrified me; they cause feebleness, confusion and loneliness. The disease is that we may go into remission.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt did not open his mouth.\n\n\"I should,\" she moaned again, \"be grateful that you don't try to take advantage of the situation. But this is not the case. I am ashamed of that too. I hate your silence and your eyes dilated with fear. I hate you... for your silence, your sincerity, your... Her too, I hate her, the sorceress; I would gladly settle things with her using my knife... I hate her. Order me to leave, Geralt, because I can't bring myself to do that on my own, and yet that is what I want: to leave, go to the town, go to the hostel. I want revenge on you for the shame I feel, my humiliation... I'll take the first opportunity...\"\n\nDamn, he thought, hearing her voice sink like a ball of rags tumbling down a staircase. She will start to cry, for sure. Then what, plague take it, what will I do?\n\nEssi's hunched shoulders trembled like a leaf. The girl turned her head to weep without sobbing in a strangely silent and peaceful way.\n\nI feel nothing at all, he thought with terror. Not the slightest emotion. If I hold her in my arms now, it will be a premeditated gesture, calculated, without spontaneity. I'm going to embrace her, not because I have any desire to, but because I feel that it's necessary. I don't feel any emotion.\n\nWhen he embraced her shoulders, she stopped crying and dried her tears, shaking her head sharply. She turned so that he would not see her face and then her head fell heavily onto Geralt's chest.\n\nA little dedication, he thought, it would only take a little... It would calm her down: an embrace, a kiss, a hug... She wants nothing more... And even if it is not enough, what's the difference? A little dedication and attention: she is beautiful and worthy of that much... If she wants more... It will calm her down. Making love gently, peacefully, in silence. But me... It's all the same tome, because Essi smells of verbena, not of lilac and gooseberry; she doesn't have cold and electrifying skin; Essi's hair is not a black tornado of shiny curls; Essi's eyes are beautiful, sweet, hot and blue, but they are no deep purple, cold and dispassionate. Essi will fall asleep afterward, will turn her face and part her lips; Essi will not smile in triumph. Because Essi..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Essi is not Yennefer.\n\nThat's why I can't grant her even a little dedication.\n\n\"Please, Essi, don't cry.\"\n\n\"Yes...\" She moved away from him very slowly. \"Yes... I understand. It can't be helped.\"\n\nThey satin silence, seated beside one another on the bench of hay. Night was falling.\n\n\"Geralt,\" she said suddenly, in a voice that trembled. \"Perhaps... as with this shell, this strange gift... we could find a pearl in our relationship? Later? After awhile?\"\n\n\"I see this pearl,\" he finally said with effort, \"set in silver, a flower of finely-chiseled silver petals. I see it hanging around your neck on a chain, worn as I wear this medallion. It will be your talisman, Essi. A talisman that will protect you from every kind of evil.\"\n\n\"My talisman,\" she repeated, lowering her head. \"A pearl trapped in silver just as I will never be free, myself. My jewel, my substitute. Can a talisman like that bring good luck?\"\n\n\"Yes, Essi. Be sure of it.\"\n\n\"Can I keep sitting with you?\"\n\n\"You can.\"\n\nSunset was approaching. Darkness was falling little by little. They stayed together, positioned next to each other on a mattress filled with straw in an attic room, devoid of furniture, with only an unlit candle stuck in a cold puddle of wax.\n\nThey satin silence fora longtime. Then Dandelion returned. They heard his footsteps, the strains of his lute and his humming. In the room, Dandelion noticed their presence without saying a word. Essi didn't say anything either. She stood and walked out without looking at them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dandelion made no comment, but the witcher saw in his eyes the words he didn't say.\n\nVIII\n\n\"An intelligent race,\" repeated Agloval, lost in thought, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair and his chin on his fists. \"An underwater civilization. Ichtyoide creatures living at the bottom of the sea. A staircase leading into the depths. Geralt, do you take me for the most naive of dukes?\"\n\nLittle-Eye, standing next to Dandelion, snorted angrily. Dandelion shook his head nervously. Geralt was a statue.\n\n\"It's all the same tome whether you believe me or not. My duty is to warn you. The boats sailing in the area and the people who approach the Dragon's Teeth at low tide are in mortal danger. If you want to verify my statements; if you want to take that risk: it's your business. I'm only giving you fair warning.\"\n\n\"Ah!\" Zelest intervened suddenly. The steward was sitting behind Agloval in a windowed alcove. \"If these are monsters like elves or goblins, then they're not dangerous. My fear is of the greater monster: sorcery. From what the witcher said, they are like ghosts of the watery depths. We can overcome ghosts. A story recently reached my ears about a magician who killed the ghosts of Lake Mokva in the blink of an eye. He threw a barrel of magic potion into the water: the ghosts were done for. Not a trace left.\"\n\n\"That's right,\" interrupted Drouhard, who until then had remained silent. \"It didn't leave a trace... But the bream, pike, crayfish and mussels suffered the same fate; just like the weeds at the bottom; even the nearby alders dried up.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Marvelous,\" Agloval commented drily. \"Thank you for that brilliant idea, Zelest. Do you have any others?\"\n\n\"That's right... That's right...\" the steward continued, growing a deep red. \"The magician overdid it a bit, he went a little too far. But I will succeed without a magician, Duke. The witcher said that it's possible to fight and kill the monsters. Then it's a war, my lord. Like the old days. Nothing new for us! Dwarves lived in the mountains. Where are they now? Elvish savages and malevolent fairies can still be found in the forests, but they too will be done for soon. We must defend our land as our ancestors did...\"\n\n\"And only my grandchildren will seethe color of pearls once more?\" interrupted the duke with a grimace. \"We don't have time, Zelest.\"\n\n\"It will be easy. I say: for each boat of fishermen, two boats of archers. The monsters will see reason, learn fear. Isn't that right, master witcher?\"\n\nGeralt looked at him coldly without responding.\n\nAgloval exposed his most noble profile, turning his head and biting his lips, then turned his gaze on the witcher, blinking and frowning.\n\n\"You have not completed your mission, Geralt...\" he said. \" You have once again\n\nwasted the opportunity to do well. It is true that you have shown some goodwill, I don't deny that. But I am not paying you for goodwill; it's the result I pay for. It is the effectiveness that interests me, witcher, and your effectiveness is in fact, pardon the term, pathetic.\"\n\n\"Well said, my dear duke!\" Dandelion cut in mockingly. \"It's just a pity that you weren't with us at the Dragon's Teeth. We, the witcher and myself, would have granted you the opportunity to meet one of the creatures surging from the sea with sword in hand. Then you would understand what the situation is and stop dithering about the payment you owe...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Like a fish-merchant,\" said Little-Eye.\n\n\"I'm not in the habit of dithering, bargaining or arguing,\" Agloval replied calmly. \"I said that I will not give you a cent, Geralt. Our contract was in effect: remove the threat, eliminate the danger, make pearl diving safe. And what do you do? You tell me a romantic story about an intelligent race living at the bottom of the sea. You advise me to stay as far as possible from the place where my resources are gathered. What have you really done? You will have killed... how many, by the way?\"\n\n\"Their number is not important,\" Geralt responded, paling slightly. \"For you at least, Agloval.\"\n\n\"Precisely, and there is not even any evidence. If at least you had brought me the right hand of one of these fish-frogs, perhaps I would have given you the usual compensation for my ranger when he brings me a few pairs of wolf ears.\"\n\n\"Well,\" the witcher said coldly, \"there is nothing left for me to do but bid you farewell.\"\n\n\"You are mistaken,\" said the duke. \"I propose a full-time job with an honest salary: captain of the armored guard that will now protect the fishermen. This is not a position for life; you can leave once this intelligent race knows to stay away from my people. What do you think?\"\n\n\"Thank you, but I'm not interested,\" the witcher replied with a grimace. \"Such work doesn't suit me. I believe that waging war against another race is idiotic. It may perhaps bean ideal activity fora bored and idle duke, but not for me.\"\n\n\"Oh, but that's grand!\" Agloval cried with a laugh. \"That's just sublime! You reject my offer of a job fit fora king! You renounce, with the air of a rich man after a feast, a very handsome sum of money. Geralt, have you eaten anything today? No? And tomorrow? And the day after? Your options are dwindling, witcher. It is difficult to make a living under ordinary circumstances, let alone with an arm in a sling...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"How dare you!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Little-Eye yelled. \"How dare you speak to him in that tone, Agloval? The arm he carries in a sling was injured during a mission that you yourself ordered! How can you behave in such a petty way?\"\n\n\"Stop,\" interrupted Geralt. \"Stop, Essi. There's no point.\"\n\n\"Wrong,\" she replied with anger. \"There is a point. Someone must finally tell the truth to the duke who owes his title to the fact that no-one wanted, aside from him, to reign over this tiny rock in the sea, and who thinks he is in any position to humiliate others.\"\n\nAgloval clenched his teeth, reddening, but remained silent.\n\n\"Yes, Agloval,\" continued Essi, \"you take pleasure in belittling your fellows; you love to look down on someone like the witcher who was ready to die for your money. But you should know that the witcher doesn't care about your scorn and your insults; that they don't make any impression on him at all; that he does not even take them into consideration. The witcher doesn't even feel what your servants and subjects, Zelest and Drouhard, must feel: a deep and gnawing shame. The witcher doesn't feel what we, Dandelion and myself, feel in your sight: disgust. Do you know, Agloval, why that is? I'll tell you: because the witcher knows that he's better than you, that he is worth a thousand of you. That is what gives him his strength.\"\n\nEssi stopped. She looked down quickly so that Geralt would not have time to notice the tears beading at the corner of her beautiful eye. The girl brought her hand to the flower of silver petals at her neck, in the center of which was set an azure-blue pearl. The latticed petals of the mysterious flower had been carved by a master jeweler worthy of the title. The witcher was pleased with the quality of the craftsman hired by Drouhard, who had paid for everything without requiring reimbursement." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Therefore, my lord duke,\" Little-Eye said, lifting her head, \"do not insult the witcher by offering a position as a mercenary in the army that you want to raise against the ocean. Do not embarrass yourself by presenting a proposition that can only provoke laughter. Have you figured it out yet? You can hire the services of a witcher fora particular mission, to protect people from harm or threat; but you cannot buy a witcher and use him for your own purposes. Because a witcher, even injured and hungry, will always be better than you. That is why he spurns your miserable job. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"No, Miss Daven,\" Agloval replied coldly. \"I don't understand. On the contrary, I understand less and less. The first thing that I don't understand is why I have not yet ordered that all three you be drawn and quartered, or certainly beaten and branded with a red-hot iron. You, Miss Daven, you try to convince us that you know everything, but then tell me why I should spare you?\"\n\n\"But of course, right away,\" the poet responded tit for tat. \"It is because deep down, Agloval, in your heart, there is still a spark of dignity, a remaining trace of honor that the arrogance of the nouveau riche miscreant has not snuffed out. Deep down, Agloval: in the deepest place in your heart you are still capable of loving a mermaid.\"\n\nAgloval, white as a sheet, wiped his sweaty hands on the arms of his chair. Bravo, thought the witcher, bravo, Essi. You are brilliant. But he also felt tired, terribly tired.\n\n\"Get out,\" Agloval ordered dully. \"Be on your way. Go where you like. Leave me alone.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Farewell, duke,\" said Essi. \"Before I go, accept one more piece of advice, something that the witcher should tell you, but I don't want him to forget. I will do so in his place.\"\n\n\"I'm listening.\"\n\n\"The ocean is vast, Agloval. No-one yet knows what the horizon hides, if it does hide something. The ocean is larger than the largest of the wild forests from which you drove the elves. It is more difficult to cross than any mountain or valley where you massacred the dwarves. At the bottom of the ocean lives a race outfitted with cuirasses, one that knows the secrets of forging metal. Be careful, Agloval. If the archers begin to accompany the fishermen, you will start a war against an enemy that you do not know. What you start could turnout to be a nest of hornets. I advise you, therefore, to give the sea to them, because the sea is not for you. You do not know and you will never know where the steps lead that descend into the depths from the Dragon's Teeth.\"\n\n\"You are mistaken, Miss Essi,\" Agloval said quietly. \" We know where the staircase leads. Even better: we will follow them, these Steps. We will discover what can be found on the other side of the ocean, if there is anything to be found. And we will take from this ocean all that we are able to take. If we are not capable, our children or our children's children will be. It is a matter of time. That is our undertaking, if we must fill the ocean with blood. Understand this, Essi, wise Essi, you who write in your ballads the chronicle of humanity. Life is not a ballad, poor girl, little poet with her charming eye blinded by the beauty of her own words. Life is a battle, as the witchers, in their superiority over us, have learned. It is they who have led the way, who have carved the path and littered it with the corpses of those who have crossed the path of humanity. It is they who, with us, defend the world. We, Essi, we only continue this fight. It is we, not your ballads, who will create the chronicle of humanity. We have never needed witchers more, because from now on nothing will stop us." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nothing.\"\n\nEssi paled and puffed on her circlet, violently shaking her head.\n\n\"Nothing at all, Agloval?\"\n\n\"Nothing, Essi.\"\n\nThe poet smiled.\n\nA sudden commotion filled the antechamber: the sound of footsteps and shouts. Paiges and guards burst into the room. They knelt and bowed, forming a hedge.\n\nSh'eenaz appeared in the doorway, wearing a sea-blue dress adorned with frills white as foam. A dizzying decolletage revealed the siren's charms, partially hidden and adorned by a collar of nephrite and lapis-lazuli worthy of admiration. Her celadon-green hair curled artfully and was retained by a tiara of coral and magnificent pearls.\n\n\"Sh'eenaz...\" stammered Agloval, falling to his knees. \"My... Sh'eenaz...\"\n\nThe siren entered slowly with astride that was light and graceful, as fluid as a wave. She stopped in front of the duke and, with a smile that displayed all her little white teeth, seized the dress in her small hands and lifted it high enough that everyone could see for himself the quality of work performed by the sea-witch. Geralt swallowed. The witch knew what nice legs were, obviously, and how to fashion them.\n\n\"Ah!\" exclaimed Dandelion. \"My ballad... That's exactly what I wrote in my ballad... For him, she traded her tail for legs, but she also lost her voice!\"\n\n\"I haven't lost anything,\" Sh'eenaz declared, singing these words in the common tongue. \"For the moment. I feel brand new after that procedure.\"\n\n\"You speak our language?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So what, is it forbidden? How are you, white-haired one? Oh, I see that your beloved is here also... Essi Daven, if I recall correctly. Do you know her a little better or still just barely?\"\n\n\"Sh'eenaz...\" Agloval stammered insistently, approaching heron his knees. \"My love! My dear... my only... At last, you decided... At last, Sh'eenaz!\"\n\nWith a distinguished gesture, the siren offered her hand to kiss.\n\n\"Ah yes, because I love you too, idiot. What kind of lover is incapable of a little dedication?\"\n\nIX\n\nTheir departure from Bremervoord took place with afresh morning mist veiling the intensity of the disc of the sun that appeared on the horizon. They had decided to leave as a trio, but without real discussion and without a common goal, wanting simply to stay together fora while longer.\n\nThey left the rocky cape, bidding farewell to the cliffs carved by the surf and jutting vertically from the beach, the strange limestone formations lapped by the wind and waves. Upon entering the green and floral valley of Dol Adalatte, the scent of the sea, the crash of surf and the savage cries of seagulls still remained in their nostrils and their ears.\n\nThe talkative Dandelion kept jumping from subject to subject: the country of Bars and its idiotic custom of forcing young girls to remain virgins until marriage; the iron birds of the island of Inis Porhoet; the water of life and the water of death; the taste and the narcotic properties of the sapphire wine called cill; the royal quadruplets of Ebbing, dubbed with the quarrelsome names of Putzi, Gritzi, Mitzi, and Juan Pablo Vassermiller. He also criticized the new trends in music and poetry started by his competitors, poor specimens, he said, without a true artist among them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt kept his silence. Essi, too, was quiet or only responded with partial words. The witcher felt and avoided the look she cast toward him.\n\nThey crossed the Adalatte river on a ferry whose rope they had to tow themselves as the ferryman, white as a sheet and lost in a state of inebriation approaching epilepsy, could not release the mooring post that he held in both hands and responded systematically to all questions put to him with an inexpressive'beuh.\"\n\nThe country on the other side of the Adalatte pleased the witcher. The villagers situated along the river were for the most part circled by fences, suggesting that there would be work for him.\n\nEarlier that afternoon, enjoying a break-they left Dandelion watching the horses while they drank-Essi approached Geralt without warning.\n\n\"Geralt,\" she said softly. \"I... I can't stand it. It's more than I can bear.\"\n\nThe witcher tried to avoid her gaze, but she would not let him escape. Essi toyed with the azure pearl set in the silver flower that was suspended around her neck. Geralt regretted anew that she was not the fish-eyed monster hiding its sword beneath the water instead.\n\n\"Geralt... We must resolve this problem, mustn't we?\"\n\nShe waited for his response: a word, just one, the slightest hint of a reaction. But the witcher knew that he had nothing that he could dedicate to her and did not want to lie to her. In fact, he didn't dare tell the truth for fear of hurting her.\n\nDandelion, ever-reliable Dandelion with his habitual tact, at last salvaged the situation by appearing suddenly.\n\n\"Yes, that's right!\" he yelled, plunging a stick into the water to scatter the rushes and enormous river-nettles. \"You really have to make a decision, it's about time! I don't want to watch the act you're putting on any longer! What are you waiting for from him, Doll? Something impossible? And you, Geralt, what do you expect? That Little-Eye read your thoughts like... yes, like the other one? And that she content herself with the situation you're comfortable with, where, without divulging your emotions, you are required to give neither explanation nor refusal? How long will it take you to hear? When do you plan to understand? In how many years? In the form of distant memories? Tomorrow, we part ways, by the devil! Oh, I've had enough of you two. Listen: I'll cut myself a hazel branch to fish with, and you, meanwhile, will have time for everything you have to say. Say it all! Try to come to a mutual understanding. It's not as difficult as you think. Then, by all the gods, do it. Do it with him, Doll. Do it with her, Geralt, and be good for her. And then, by the plague, either move on or...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Dandelion turned violently on his heel, breaking a bulrush and swearing." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He planned to fish until nightfall with a horsehair mounted to a hazel branch.\n\nWhen he disappeared, Geralt and Essi remained motionless fora long moment, leaning against the trunk of a willow tree overlooking the stream. They were silent, hand in hand. Then the witcher began to talk at length and in a low voice; Little-Eye listened with tears in her eyes.\n\nThen they did it.\n\nAnd all was in order.\n\nX\n\nThe next day, they organized a sort of farewell dinner. Essi and Geralt had bought a lamb in a village, already prepared. During the haggling, Dandelion made off with fresh garlic, onions, and carrots from the garden behind the house. They also stole a pot to prepare\n\nit in, nimbly slipping it through the farrier's hedge. The witcher had to plug the holes by using the Igni sign.\n\nThe farewell dinner was held in a clearing deep in the forest. The fire crackled cheerfully. Geralt carefully turned the prepared animal, stirring the contents of the steaming pot with the stripped branch of a pine tree. Little-Eye, who knew nothing about cooking, was content to make the atmosphere agreeable by singing ribald verses with her lute.\n\nIt was a dinner party. In the morning, it was agreed that each would go his own way in search of what he already had. But unaware of that fact, ignorant of just how far the road would take them, they had decided to separate.\n\nAfter eating their fill and drinking the beer that Drouhard had offered them, they talked and laughed together. Dandelion and Essi sparred in song. Geralt, lying on spruce branches with his hands behind his head, thought that he had never heard such beautiful voices and such beautiful ballads. He thought of Yennefer. He also thought of Essi. He had the feeling that..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "At the end of the evening, Little-Eye sang with Dandelion the celebrated duet of Cynthia and Vertven, a marvelous love song beginning with the words: \"These are not my first tears...\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt had the impression that even the trees leaned into listen to the troubadours.\n\nThen Little-Eye, who smelled of verbena, lay down next to him, pressed against his shoulder, lay her head on his chest, then sighed perhaps twice before falling into a peaceful sleep. The witcher did not sleep until much later.\n\nDandelion, absorbed by the glow of the fire that was going out little by little, remained seated and played a few discreet chords on his lute.\n\nHe began with a few measures that he transformed into a quiet melody. The words were born with the music, captured by it like insects in translucent amber.\n\nThe ballad recounted the story of a certain witcher and of a certain poet: the circumstances of their encounter at the seaside, amid the squalling of the gulls; their mutual love at first sight; the sincerity of their love; their indifference toward a death that could not destroy this love nor separate them.\n\nDandelion knew that few would believe the story told by the ballad, but he didn't care: one writes a ballad for the emotion it conveys.\n\nDandelion could have changed, some years later, the content of that ballad to reflect the truth. He did not. The true story was indeed moving. Who would hear, indeed, that the witcher and the poet parted and never saw each other again? That four years later, Little-Eye died of smallpox in Vizima during an epidemic? That Dandelion carried her body in his arms far from the funeral pyres burning away in the city, alone and quiet, into the forest, and buried with her, according to her wishes, two objects: her lute and the azure pearl with which she was never parted.\n\nNo, Dandelion kept the first version of his ballad, but he never sang it again. Not ever, for anyone." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the morning, a hungry and furious werewolf took advantage of the darkness of the night that had not yet dissipated and invaded the camp; but, recognizing the voice of Dandelion, he listened fora moment to the melody before disappearing into the forest.\n\nThe Sword of Destiny\n\nThis is a fan translation of a French translation of the story from Andrzej Sapkowski's The\n\nSword of Destiny (L'Epee de la Providence). / am not a native or even a strong French\n\nspeaker but I hope that the result is sufficiently readable for my fellow Anglophones who may\n\nbe trying to read Blood of Elves and wondering who the hell Ciri is. Here you go.\n\nBraenn's dialog is a very rough approximation. In the original it is a muddle of archaic\n\nwords, mistaken homonyms, etc.\n\nI\n\nHe discovered the first body around noon.\n\nThe sight of the dead rarely shook the witcher. His gaze passed over most of them with perfect indifference. But not this time.\n\nThe boy was fifteen. He lay on his back, legs wide apart; something, on his lips, was frozen, like a grimace of terror. Geralt knew nonetheless that the child had died on the spot, that he had not suffered, that he probably didn't even see death coming. The arrow had pierced his eye and penetrated deep into the skull through the eyesocket. The fletching consisted of tiger-pheasant feathers, painted yellow and jutting above the grass.\n\nGeralt looked around himself quickly. He found what was looking for without difficulty: a second arrow, identical, stuck in the trunk of a pine tree, about six steps back. He understood what had happened. The child had not heeded the warning: frightened by the whistle and the impact of the arrow, he had taken off running in the wrong direction. The side that the arrow told him not to go, to turnaround. The lightning hiss and the poison pen, the brief impact of the point that bit into the wood. \"Human! Not another step!\" That was the declaration of the whistle and the impact. \"Human! Begone! Go quickly from Brokilone. You have conquered the entire world, human, you have left your mark everywhere, you peddle everything in the name of modernity, an era of change, what you call progress. But we want neither you nor your progress. We don't want any of your changes. We want nothing that you bring with you.\" Whistle, impact. \"Out of Brokilone!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Human, out of Brokilone, thought the witcher. Even if you are fifteen, crossing the forest, driven by fear, without knowing your way. Even if you are seventy, forced to gather firewood, because your infirmity has warranted that you be chased from the cottage and deprived of food. Even if you are six, drawn by the flowers that bloom in the sun-drenched clearing. Out of Brokilone! Whistling, impact.\n\nIn the past, he thought, before shooting to kill, they gave two warnings. Three, even.\n\nIn the past, he thought, continuing on his way. In the past.\n\nProgress...\n\nThe forest did not seem to warrant such a sinister aura. It was, in fact, terribly wild and impenetrable, but this was nothing out of the ordinary in the depths of a forest where each shaft of light, each touch of sun that the leaves and branches of the large trees allowed to filter through, was immediately exploited by dozens of young birch, alder and hornbeam, by brambles, ferns and junipers, covering with their shoots a land of brittle wood, of dry branches and rotted trunks, remains of the oldest trees at the end of their battle and their life.\n\nThere was not the heavy, ominous silence ordinarily associated with the places where these things dominated. On the contrary, Brokilone was alive. Buzzing insects, lizards rustling underfoot, beetles shining in rainbow colors, thousands of spiders crawling on canvases where droplets sparkled, woodpeckers striving against the trunks, jays chattering.\n\nBrokilone was alive.\n\nBut the witcher could not allow himself to be complacent. He knew where he was and did not forget the boy with the pierced eye. Among the mosses and pine needles, he sometimes saw bleached bones stripped by carnivorous ants." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He continued on his way-cautiously, but swiftly. The tracks were fresh. He thought he could make the capture, stop, and return to the people that he served. He thought, despite everything, he was not too late.\n\nWrongly.\n\nHe would not have noticed the second body without the reflection of the sun on the sword that the dead man clutched in his hand. He was a grown man. The simplicity of his dark gray garments revealed a humble origin. With the exception of bloodstains blooming from two arrows planted in his chest, his clothing was clean and new: he was not, then, a simple valet.\n\nGeralt looked around him and found the third corpse, dressed in a leather jacket and a green tunic. The ground around the body was entirely trampled, the moss and the needles stamped down into the dirt. There could be no doubt: this man had suffered at length.\n\nHe heard a groan.\n\nQuickly, he parted the juniper branches and saw the deep hole that they had concealed. In the hollow, a man of strong constitution was lying on the exposed roots of a pine. His hair was black, like his beard, contrasting with the terrible, even deathly pallor of his face. His light deerskin doublet was red with blood.\n\nThe witcher vaulted into the hole. The wounded man opened his eyes.\n\n\"Geralt...\" he moaned. \"Oh gods... I must be dreaming...\"\n\n\"Freixenet?\" said the witcher, surprised. \"You're here?\"\n\n\"I... ah...\"\n\n\"Don't move.\" Geralt knelt next to him. \"Where are you hurt? I don't seethe arrow...\"\n\n\"It went clean through. I broke the tip, then I took it out... Listen, Geralt...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Shut up,\" Geralt said, \"because you're losing all your blood." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You have a pierced lung. I need to get you out of here, damn it! What the devil were you doing in Brokilone? This is dryad territory, their sanctuary; no-one leaves alive. Don't you know that?\"\n\n\"Later...\" Freixenet moaned. He spat blood. \"Later, I'll explain... Now, get me out of here... Ah! Damn it! Gently... ah...\"\n\n\"I can't.\" Geralt stood, looking around. \"You're too heavy...\"\n\n\"Leave me,\" the wounded man muttered. \"Leave me, it's a shame... But save her... By all the gods, save her...\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\n\"The princess... ah... Find her, Geralt...\"\n\n\"Keep quiet, by all the devils! I'll find something to pull you out of there.\"\n\nFreixenet coughed loudly and spat again; a dense stream of blood fell from his beard. The witcher swore. He leapt out of the hole and examined his surroundings. Needing two young trees, he went to the edge of the clearing where he had noticed an alder.\n\nWhistle, impact.\n\nGeralt froze. The arrow shot into the trunk at head-height was fletched with a hawk feather. He looked in the direction indicated by the shaft; he knew where it was fired from. About fifty paces away there was another hole, a tree stump lifting its tangle of roots into the sky and still clinging to an enormous mass of sandy soil. Further on, there was a massive\n\nblackthorn and the darkness was striped by the light bands of the trunks of birch trees. He saw no-one. He knew he would see nothing.\n\nHe raised both hands in the air, very gently." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ceddmil! Va an Eithne medth e Duen Canelll Essed Gwynbleidd!\"\n\nHe heard the muffled rustling of a bowstring, then saw an arrow shot deliberately for him that he could, this time, locate: right in the sky. He lifted his gaze, stopped in his tracks and tumbled to aside. Geralt froze. The arrow was planted almost vertically in the moss, two steps from him. Almost instantly, a second arrow joined the first at an identical angle. He feared that he would never seethe flight of the third.\n\n\"Medth Eithne!\" he repeated. \"Essed Gwynbleidd!\"\n\n\"Gldeddyv vort!\"\n\nA voice like a whisper of wind responded. A voice, not an arrow. He was alive. Gently, the witcher loosened the buckle of his belt and removed his sword, holding it far from his body and then tossing it to the ground. The second dryad emerged without a sound from behind the trunk of a tree surrounded by junipers, less than ten paces from him. Although she was petite and slender, the trunk seemed thinner still. Geralt did not understand how he could have failed to notice her arrival. Her garment-a harlequin fabric combining a number of shades of green and brown, in leaves and scraps of bark, but not at all detracting from the grace of her body-had effectively camouflaged her. Her hair, tied back by a black scarf at her brow, was olive-colored, and stripes painted with walnut ink streaked her face.\n\nMore to the point, the dryad was drawing her bow and taking aim.\n\n\"Eithne!\" he cried.\n\n\"Thdess aep!\"\n\nHe was silent, docile, unmoving, hands held away from his body. The dryad did not lower her weapon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Dunca!\" she cried. \"Braenn! Caemm vort!\"\n\nThe one that had fired on him appeared from the blackthorn and crossed the tree stump, jumping deftly across the hole. Despite the mass of dried branches, he heard none crack beneath her feet. He felt behind him a slight rustle, like the sound of a leaf carried by the wind. He knew that the third dryad stood behind him.\n\nOne of them picked up Geralt's sword in a movement like lightning. She had hair the color of honey, tied back with a headband of rushes. A quiver filled with arrows hung on her back.\n\nThe one that was the farthest away, near the hole, was fast approaching. Her clothing was indistinguishable from that of her companions. She covered her dusky brick-colored hair in a braided crown of clover and heather. Her bow remained lowered, but an arrow was already nocked.\n\n\"Ten thesse in medth aep Eithne llev?\" she asked, coming very close.\n\nHer voice was extraordinarily melodic; her eyes were enormous and black.\n\n\"Ess' Gwynbleidd?\"\n\n\"Ae... aesseld...\" he stammered. But the words of the Brokiloneon dialect that sang from the mouths of the dryads could not escape from his mouth and were bruised by his lips. \"Does one of you speak the common tongue? I don't know much...\"\n\n\"An'vdill. Vort Hinge,\"\"\"' she cut in.\n\n\"I am Gwynbleidd, the White Wolf. Madame Eithne knows me. I have business with her. I have lived before in Brokilone. In Duen Canell.\"\n\n\"Gywnbleidd.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Extend the story in collaboration with the author.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, short stories\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: Sword of Destiny\nChapter: 4" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A tear beaded distinctly on the healer's cheek. Geralt felt his throat tighten painfully. He was tired, sleepy, weak.\n\n\"In the light of day...\" he murmured, \"tomorrow, in the light of the sun, I will look into your eyes, Visenna... And I will ask my question. Or perhaps I won't ask, because it's too late. Was it destiny? Yes, Yen was right. It is not enough to be, yourself, subject to destiny. There must be something more... But I will look into your eyes tomorrow... In the light of the sun.\"\n\n\"No,\" she replied softly, in a voice of velvet that pierced through and summoned up the layers of memory that were missing, nonexistent, but remained nevertheless.\n\n\"If,\" he protested. \"If I want to...\"\n\n\"No. Sleep now. When you wake up, you will stop wanting that. What good is it to lock eyes by the light of the sun? What will that change? We can't turn back time. We can't change anything. What sense is therein asking me that question, Geralt? The fact that I don't know of any response that will really give you a perverse pleasure? That will give us that mutual destruction? No, we will not look into each other's eyes. Hypnotize yourself, Geralt. Between us, know that it wasn't Vesemir who gave you that name. Even if this does not change anything and does not undo the past, I want you to know that. Farewell, take care of yourself. Don't try to find me...\"\n\n\"Visenna...\"\n\n\"No, Geralt. You're going to fall asleep. And me... I will have been a dream. Goodbye.\"\n\n\"No, Visenna!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sleep!\" she intoned in a velvet voice that broke the witcher's will and tore it like\n\ntissue.\n\n\"Sleep.\"\n\nGeralt fell asleep.\n\nVI\n\n\"Are we already in the territory of Outer Rivia, Yurga?\"\n\n\"Since yesterday, my lord Geralt. We will reach the Yarouga river soon. On the other side, we will be in my home. Look, even the horses are walking more quickly and leaning their heads forward. They've picked up the smell of the barn and the house.\"\n\n\"The house... You live within the castle's fortifications?\"\n\n\"No, in the suburb.\"\n\n\"Interesting.\" The witcher looked around. \"There's practically no evidence of the war. It was said, however, that the country was horribly destroyed.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Yurga replied, \"there is a shortage of everything but ruins... at least, that's not what's missing. Look carefully: almost every house, every courtyard, has a brand new frame. Beyond the river, you see, there it's even worse, where the fire burned everything to the ground... War is war, but one must keep on living. We suffered the worst torments when the Black Ones crossed through our lands. It seemed that they wanted to turn everything into a desert. Many of those who fled then have never returned. In their place, newcomers have settled. Life must goon.\"\n\n\"That's right,\" murmured Geralt, \"life must goon. Regardless of the past... one must keep on living...\"\n\n\"Absolutely right. Here! Look at it this way. I sewed and patched your trousers. Now they are like new. Just like this land, my lord Geralt. The war tore and trampled it under iron horseshoes; bruised and bloodied it; but the land renews itself, becoming fertile once more: the bodies themselves work to enrich the soil, even if it is difficult to work the land because of the bones and the armor cluttering the fields. Earth will overcome iron.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You don't fear the return of the Nilfgaardians..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "the Black Ones? Now they know the path through the mountains...\"\n\n\"Well of course, we live in fear. But what can we do? Sit down and cry? Tremble? One must keep on living. Come what may. Whatever fate has in store for us, we can't avoid it.\"\n\n\"You believe, then, in destiny?\"\n\n\"How could I not believe in it? After our meeting on the enchanted bridge where you saved my life! Oh, master witcher, you'll see that my Chrysididae will be kissing your feet...\"\n\n\"Stop with that. In truth, I am the one indebted to you. On the bridge... I was only doing my job, Yurga. I was practicing my profession, which consists of protecting humans for money, not for charity. Yurga, you know what people say about witchers? That no-one knows which is worse... them, or the monsters that they destroy.\"\n\n\"That's all wrong, lord, I don't understand why you talk like that. You think that I don't have my own eyes to see with? You are cut from the same cloth as that healer...\"\n\n\"Visenna...\"\n\n\"She didn't tell me her name. She came to us and offered her services without hesitation, knowing that we needed her. That evening, by the time I got down from my horse, she was already taking care of you. Oh, my lord, she took such good care of your leg. The air was filled with magic and we all fled, terrified, into the forest. And then the blood ran from her nose. Magic, apparently, is not easy. She bandaged you with such delicacy, like...\"\n\n\"Like a mother?\" Geralt asked through clenched teeth.\n\n\"Effectively. That's right. And when you were asleep...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes, Yurga?\"\n\n\"White as a sheet, she was barely on her feet. But she came to ask us if any of the rest of us needed her help. The tar-maker, who had his hand crushed by a tree, benefited from her care. And she didn't take a cent. She even left the medicine. I know, Geralt, that there are many things said in the world about witchers and sorceresses, but not here. We, the people of Upper Sodden, of Outer Rivia, we know the truth. We need sorceresses too much not to know who they really are. Their memories are not peddled by storytellers or gossips, but etched in stone. You saw for yourself back in the woods. Besides, my lord, you certainly know better than I do. The whole world knows about the battle that was fought here less than a year ago. You must have heard about it.\"\n\n\"I haven't been back here for over a year. I was in the North. But I heard talk... The second battle of Sodden...\"\n\n\"Exactly. You will seethe hill and the rock. Before, the hill had the ordinary name of \"Mount Coulemelle,\" but now all the world knows it as the Sorcerers'mountain or the mountain of the fourteen. Because twenty-two sorcerers joined the battle and fourteen died. It was a terrible struggle, master Geralt. The ground rose up, the sky spat fiery rain. Lightning struck. Corpses littered the ground. But the sorcerers at last vanquished the Black Ones and snuffed out the power that animated them. Fourteen of them did not return. Fourteen of them gave their lives... What's wrong, my lord? What is it?\"\n\n\"Nothing. Continue, Yurga.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The battle was terrible, oh! Without the sorcerers on the hill, we surely would not be able to talk like this today, you and I, on the tranquil road to my house, because it wouldn't exist anymore, and neither would I, and perhaps you wouldn't either... Yes, we are indebted to all those sorcerers. Fourteen of them died in our defense, we the people of Sodden and Outer Rivia. Of course there were others who fought as well: warriors, nobles and peasants alike, anyone who could lay hands on a pitchfork or an ax, or even a stake... All acted with courage. Many of them died. But the sorcerers... Nothing is more natural fora warrior than to die on the field of battle, and then, that life is short anyway... But sorcerers can live as long as they like. Even so, they did not hesitate.\"\n\n\"They did not hesitate,\" repeated the witcher, wiping his forehead. \"They did not hesitate. And me, I was in the North...\"\n\n\"What's wrong, my lord?\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\n\"Yes... All of us, in the area, we leave flowers on that hill and through May, Belleteyn, the fire always burns. It will burn forever and ever. These fourteen sorcerers will live eternally in the memories of men. Living in memory, master Geralt, it's... it's something more!\"\n\n\"You're right, Yurga.\"\n\n\"Every child knows the names of the fourteen carved in stone at the top of the hill. You don't believe me? Listen: Axel known as Raby, Triss Merigold, Atlan Kerk, Vanielle of Bruga, Dagobert of Vole...\"\n\n\"Stop, Yurga.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"What's wrong, my lord?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You're as pale as death.\"\n\n\"Nothing.\"\n\nVII\n\nHe climbed the hill very slowly, carefully, attentive to the work of tendons and muscles after their magical healing. Despite being completely healed, the wound still required his attention, and he took care not to put his full weight on the leg. It was hot. The smell of the grass intoxicated him and clouded his mind, but it was pleasant.\n\nThe obelisk had not been installed in the center of the plateau at the top of the hill, but further down, behind a row of sharp stones. If Geralt had come before sunset, the shadow cast on the standing stone by the row of stones would accurately represent the perimeter and indicate the direction in which each sorcerer's face was turned during the battle. He looked in each direction, over the endless rolling fields. If there were any bones left-he was certain-they were covered by the abundant grass. A hawk circled in the distance, hovering serenely, with wings outstretched: the only movement in a landscape petrified by the heatwave.\n\nThe base of the obelisk was large. To encircle it would require at least four or five people with arms outstretched. It was obvious that it would have been impossible to transport it so far without resorting to magic. The face of the standing stone that faced the row of stones had been meticulously polished.\n\nOn it had been engraved in runic characters the names of the fourteen deceased.\n\nHe appproached it slowly. Yurga, indeed, was right. At the foot of the obelisk, common flowers, wildflowers, poppies, lupines, forget-me-nots, had been placed.\n\nTriss Merigold, chestnut hair, cheerful, ready to burst into laughter for no reason at all, like a child. He liked her. It had been mutual." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lawdbor of Murivel, with whom Geralt had avoided a fight in the city of Vizima, on a day when he had caught the witcher in the act of manipulating dice with a discreet telekinesis.\n\nLytta Neyd, alias Coral. She had been dubbed with nickname because of the color of the cream she applied to her lips. She had once spoken ill of Geralt to the King Belohun, who then imprisoned him fora week in a dungeon. As soon as he was released, he went to find her to ask for her reasons and had found himself in bed with the beautiful woman, without knowing how, for another week.\n\nGorazd the Elder who had wanted to pay him 100 marks in exchange for the opportunity to examine his eyes and even 1,000 for the chance to dissect him, \"not necessarily today,\" he had clarified.\n\nHe waited three more years.\n\nGeralt heard from behind him a quiet rustle. He turned.\n\nShe was barefoot, dressed in a simple linen dress. Long fair hair tumbled free over her shoulders. A daisy-chain crown adorned her brow.\n\n\"Greetings to you,\" he said.\n\nWithout answering, she looked at him with eyes that were blue and cold.\n\nGeralt noticed that she was not tanned. It was strange, because the skin of the country girls, scorched by the sun, was ordinarily dark by the end of the summer. Her face and what was visible of her shoulders was missing the golden tint.\n\n\"You've brought flowers?\"\n\nShe smiled and lowered her eyelids. He felt a chill set in. She passed by him without a word and knelt at the foot of the monument, touching the stone with her hand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I don't bring flowers,\" she said, lifting her head. \"Those that have been brought here are for me.\"\n\nHe watched her carefully. She knelt, her body hiding the last name engraved on the stone. The girl emitted aglow of light against the base of the dark rock.\n\n\"Who are you?\" he asked slowly.\n\n\"You do not know?\"\n\n/ know, he thought, looking at the icy blue of her eyes. Yes, I think that I know.\n\nGeralt felt calm. He could not be otherwise. Not now.\n\n\"I have always been curious to see you, madam.\"\n\n\"You don't have to give me such a title,\" she replied coldly. \"We have known each other for years, haven't we?\"\n\n\"We know each other,\" he agreed. \"They say that you follow in my steps.\"\n\n\"I go my own way. But you, you had never, until just now, looked behind you. You turned back today for the first time.\"\n\nGeralt remained silent. Tired, he had nothing to say.\n\n\"How... How will it happen?\" he asked her at last, coldly and without emotion.\n\n\"I will take you by the hand,\" she replied, looking him straight in the eye. \"I will take you by the hand and lead you across the meadow, through a cold and wet fog.\"\n\n\"And after? What is there beyond the fog?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" she replied, smiling. \"After that, there is nothing.\"\n\n\"You have followed me step by step,\" he said, \"cutting down the ones in my path. Why? So that I would be alone, isn't that right? And finally begin to know fear? I'll tell you the truth. You have always frightened me. I didn't turn back for fear of seeing you behind me. I was always afraid. I have lived my life in fear, until today...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Until today?\"\n\n\"Yes. We stand face to face, but I don't feel any anxiety. In taking everything from me, you have also stripped me of fear.\"\n\n\"Why are your eyes, then, filled with terror, Geralt of Rivia? Your hands shake. You are pale. Why? Are you afraid to read the fourteenth name engraved on the obelisk? If you like, I can tell you the name.\"\n\n\"No, you don't need to. I know whose name it is. The circle closes. The snakebites his own tail. So be it. You and your name. The flowers. For you and for me. The fourteenth name engraved at the base, the name that I gave my heart to by night and by the light of the sun, in frost, drought, and rain. No, I will not speak it now.\"\n\n\"But yes, speak it.\"\n\n\"Yennefer... Yennefer de Vengerberg.\"\n\n\"But the flowers are for me.\"\n\n\"End this,\" he managed to say. \"Take... take my hand.\"\n\nShe stood and approached him. Geralt felt a chill, hard and penetrating.\n\n\"Not today,\" she replied. \"Another day, yes. But not today.\"\n\n\"You've taken everything from me...\"\n\n\"No,\" she interrupted. \"Me, I take nothing. I only take by the hand. So that no-one must be alone and lost in the fog... Goodbye, Geralt of Rivia. Some other day.\"\n\nThe witcher did not respond. She turned slowly and then disappeared into the fog that was drowning the summit of the hill where everything was disappearing: into that damp and white haze vanished the obelisk, the flowers placed at its base and the fourteen engraved names. Soon there was nothing left but the fog and the grass wet with brilliant droplets under his feet, a grass whose sweet, heavy aroma created a doleful atmosphere, a will to forget and collapse from fatigue..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Master Geralt! What is it? Were you asleep? I warned you that you could still weaken yourself. Why did you climb to the summit?\"\n\n\"I was asleep,\" he groaned, wiping his face with his hand. \"I was asleep, by the plague... It's nothing, Yurga, it's because of this heat...\"\n\n\"Yes, you have a devil of a fever... We must continue on our way, my lord. Come, I'll help you down the slope.\"\n\n\"I have nothing...\"\n\n\"Nothing, nothing. I'm curious to know the reason for your staggering. By the plague, why did you climb the hill in this heat? You wanted to read all their names?\"\n\n\"Nothing... Yurga... you really remember all of the names inscribed on the monument?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"I'll test your memory... The last. The fourteenth. What is it?\"\n\n\"But you're areal skeptic. Don't you believe anything? You want to verify that I'm not lying? I told you that even children know the names. The last, you say? Yes, the last, it's Yol Grethen of Carreras. You know her, perhaps?\"\n\n\"No,\" he replied. \"I don't know her.\"\n\nVII\n\n\"Master Geralt?\"\n\n\"Yes, Yurga?\"\n\nThe merchant bowed his head and was quiet, wrapping his finger with the thin strap with which he had repaired the witcher's seat. He stood at last and nudged the back of the valet who was driving the cart.\n\n\"Let goof the reins, Profit. I'll drive. Sit on the seat next tome, master Geralt. And you, Profit, what are you still doing here? Come on, hop to it! We need to talk. No need for your ears here!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Roach, ahead of them a little and biting the rope that secured her to the charriot, appeared to envy the little mare that Profit rode at a trot along the highway.\n\nYurga clicked his tongue, lightly striking the horse with the reins. \"Well,\" he drawled, \"the situation is this, my lord. I promised you... then, on the bridge... I made a promise...\"\n\n\"Forget it,\" the witcher interrupted promptly. \"Forget it, Yurga.\"\n\n\"I cannot forget it,\" the merchant responded bluntly, \"my word is not the wind. That which I don't expect to find at home when I return with you.\"\n\n\"Leave me be. I don't want anything from you. We are settled.\"\n\n\"No, lord. If I find such a thing at home, it will be the sign of destiny. And if one makes a mockery of Destiny, if one tells lies, she takes it very seriously.\"\n\n/ know, thought the witcher. / know.\n\n\"But... master Geralt...\"\n\n\"What, Yurga?\"\n\n\"I won't find anything at home that I don't expect to see. Not a thing, let alone what you want. Listen, master witcher: Chrysididae, my wife, will give me no more children. Whatever may happen, there will not be anew child at home. You are mistaken.\"\n\nGeralt did not respond.\n\nYurga remained quiet also. Roach snorted again, tossing her head.\n\n\"But I have two sons,\" Yurga said very quickly, looking at the road ahead of him. \"Two healthy sons, strong and not stupid. I must send them into apprenticeships. One of them will, I think, learn the trade with me. But the other...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt continued to be silent. Yurga turned his head and looked at him:\n\n\"You were saying? You demanded an oath from me on the bridge. It was for you to find a child, nothing else, isn't that so? I have two sons: let one of them study the witchers\" arts. It's not a bad idea.\"\n\n\"You are sure,\" Geralt interrupted in a low voice, \"that he isn't stupid?\"\n\nYurga blinked.\n\n\"Defending people, saving their lives, in your opinion, is it a good or a bad thing? Those fourteen, on the hill? You, on the bridge? What you yourself have accomplished, is it good or bad?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Geralt managed to respond. \"I don't know, Yurga. Sometimes, I think that I know. But sometimes I have my doubts as well. Would you like for your sun to have such doubts?\"\n\n\"And why not?\" the merchant replied seriously. \"Why not have doubts? It's nothing but a human and good thing.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Doubt. Only an evil man, master Geralt, is without it. And no-one escapes his destiny.\"\n\nThe witcher did not respond.\n\nThe main road ran along a high promontory and bent birches that mysteriously managed to keep hold of the steep slope. The trees had yellow leaves. Fall is returning, thought Geralt, it's anew autumn. Below, a river shimmered. Behind a freshly-whitewashed fence, one could seethe roofs of houses and the polished stilts of the wharf.\n\nThe winch squeaked.\n\nThe ferry was heading toward the edge, pushing a wave ahead of it. It split the waters with its blunt prow, pushing aside the grass and leaves that floated on the surface, trapped by a coating of dust. The ropes, pulled by the ferrymen, groaned. The crowd assembled on the banks was raising a commotion: women's cries, men's cursing, children's tears, bellowing, neighing, bleating. The deep monotone chant of fear." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Stand back! Make way! Stand back, damn it!\" shouted a knight, his head covered by a bloody rag.\n\nHis horse, immersed up to the abdomen, was annoyed, lifting its forelegs roughly and raising splashes. On the pier could be heard screams, cries: soldiers armed with shield pushed the crowd back, striking where they could with the butt of their spears.\n\n\"Stay away from the ferry!\" cried the knight, swinging his sword. \"The army has priority! Stay back, or heads will fly!\"\n\nGeralt pulled on the reins to stop his horse, which danced on the edge of the slope.\n\nAt the bottom of the valley marched heavily-armed soldiers. The movement of their weapons and armor enveloped the wearers in a cloud of dust that reached the shield-bearers in their path.\n\n\"Geraaaalt!\"\n\nThe witcher looked down. A thin man with a cherry-colored jacket and a hat with an egret-feather plume jumped up and hailed him from a cart loaded with wooden cages that had been abandoned at the side of the road. In the cages, hens and geese were cackling constantly.\n\n\"Geraaaalt, it's me!\"\n\n\"Dandelion! Come join me!\"\n\n\"Stay away from the ferry,\" the knight continued to scream from his bandaged head, on the pier. \"The ferry is only for the army! If you want to get to the other side, you pack of dogs, take your hatchets and get to work in the forest! Make yourself a raft! The ferry is only for the army!\"\n\n\"By all the gods, Geralt,\" panted the poet, climbing the side of the valley. His cherry-colored jacket was covered with poultry feathers white as snow. \"You see what's happening? Sodden just lost the battle: they retreated. Retreat? But what am I saying? It's more of a stampede... a full panic! We need to get out of here, Geralt, and cross to the other side of the Yarouga river...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What are you doing here, Dandelion? Where did you come from?\"\n\n\"What am I doing here?\" shouted the bard. \"You ask me that? I am doing the same as the others. I was jolted all day yesterday on this cart! Some son of a bitch stole my horses during the night! Geralt, I beg you, get me out of here! Those Nilfgaardians could arrive at any moment! Anyone without the Yarouga river between himself and their army will be slaughtered. Slaughtered, you understand?\"\n\n\"Don't panic, Dandelion.\"\n\nBelow, they heard the neighing of horses forced aboard the ferry and the clamor of their hooves striking the boards; the screaming; the uproar of the crowd; the sound of splashing caused by a cart pushed into the water; the bellowing of cattle whose faces broke the surface of the water. Geralt saw the crates and bundles of hay carried by the current smash against the hull of the ferry and continue on their way. All was clamor and cursing; a cloud of dust rose from the valley; hoofbeats could be heard.\n\n\"Each in turn!\" yelled the knight with the bandaged head, plunging with his horse into the crowd. \"In order, you sons of bitches! One after the other!\"\n\n\"Geralt,\" moaned Dandelion, clinging to the stirrup, \"you know what's happening? We'll never get aboard the ferry. The soldiers will outdo themselves and burn it afterward so it can't be used by Nilfgaardians. That's what they do in general, eh?\"\n\n\"You're right,\" agreed the witcher. \"That's the favored practice. I still don't understand why all these people are in such a panic! Is this the first war they've ever seen? Usually, the royal troops fight amongst themselves, then the kings come to an agreement, sign a treaty and take advantage of the occasion to kill each other. These events shouldn't concern all the people stampeding on the pier! What explains this outburst of violence?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dandelion looked directly at the witcher's face without releasing the stirrup:\n\n\"You clearly have very meager access to information, Geralt. Or you don't know how to interpret it. This is not an ordinary war of succession or a dispute over the ownership of apiece of land; we are not dealing with the quarrel of two noblemen to which peasants, occupied by their crops, remain passive witnesses.\"\n\n\"What is it then? Enlighten me, because I don't know what's going on. Between you and me, it doesn't interest me much, but explain it anyway, please.\"\n\n\"This war is unique,\" the bard explained seriously. \"The armies of Nilfgaard leave behind them nothing but desolation and corpses: entire fields of corpses. It's a war of total extermination. Nilfgaard against everything. The cruelty...\"\n\n\"There is no war without cruelty,\" the witcher interrupted. \"You're exaggerating, Dandelion. It's like burning the ferry: such is the practice... It is, I would say, a military tradition. Since the beginning of the world, armies have been killing, stealing, burning and attacking, unceasingly, and in that order. Since the beginning of the world, when a war breaks out, the farmers and their wives hide in the woods with the few possessions that they can carry and return home when the conflict is over...\"\n\n\"Not this war, Geralt. After this war, no-one returns. There will be nothing to return to. Nilfgaard leaves behind it only rubble; its armies advance like lava from which no-one escapes. The roads are strewn, for miles, with gallows and pyres; the sky is cut with columns of smoke as long as the horizon. Since the beginning of the world, in fact, nothing of this sort has happened before. Since the world is our world... You must understand that the Nilfgaardians have descended from their mountains to destroy this world.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That's absurd. Who would benefit from destroying the world? Wars aren't fought for the sake of destruction. Wars are fought for two reasons: the first is power; the second is money.\"\n\n\"Stop your philosophizing, Geralt! You can't change what's happening with philosophy! Why aren't you hearing me? Why do you refuse to understand? Believe me, Yarouga will not stop Nilfgaard's momentum. In winter, when the river freezes, they will push the front even farther. I tell you this: we must flee to the North. They may not reach that far. But in any case, our world will no longer be the same. Geralt, don't leave me alone here! Don't go without me! Don't leave me!\"\n\n\"You've lost your mind, Dandelion.\" The witcher leaned over his saddle. \"Fear must have made you take leave of your senses. How can you believe that I would leave you alone? Give me your hand. Get on my horse. You won't find anything of value on the ferry. Besides, they'll never let you onboard. I'll take you up the river. We'll look fora boat or a raft.\"\n\n\"The Nilfgaardians will catch us. They are already there. Have you noticed the knights? You can see that they come directly from the battlefield. Let's go downriver, toward the mouth of the Ina.\n\n\"Stop panicking. We'll get through, don't worry. Downriver, there are crowds of fugitives. At each ford, like here, there will be problems with crossing by ferry. All the boats\n\nmust have been requisitioned. We'll go upriver, against the current. Don't be afraid. I'll get you across, on a tree trunk if necessary.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You can hardly seethe other bank!\"\n\n\"Stop complaining. I told you I would get you across.\"\n\n\"And you?\"\n\n\"Get on my horse. We'll discuss it on the way. Hey, by the devil, you're not taking this huge bag! You want to break Roach's spine?\"\n\n\"It's Roach? Roach was a bay, this one is chestnut.\"\n\n\"All of my horses are named Roach. You know that very well. Stop giving me the run-around. What do you have in there? Gold?\"\n\n\"Manuscripts! Poems! And my rations...\"\n\n\"Throw it all in the river. You'll write new poems. As for food, I'll share mine with you.\"\n\nDandelion made a mournful face, but didn't hesitate. He threw his bag into the water and jumped onto the horse, sitting on the saddlebags and clinging to the witcher's belt.\n\n\"On the way, on the way,\" he repeated anxiously. \"Don't lose anytime, Geralt, go into the woods before...\"\n\n\"Stop, Dandelion... You're making Roach nervous.\"\n\n\"Don't mock me. If you knew what I...\"\n\n\"Shut up, by the plague. We're taking the road. I'd like to get you across before nightfall.\"\n\n\"Me? And you?\"\n\n\"There's nothing calling me to the other side of the river.\"\n\n\"Have you gone mad, Geralt? You've had enough of living? What are you doing?\"\n\n\"It's nothing that concerns you. I'm going to Cintra.\"\n\n\"To Cintra? But Cintra doesn't exist anymore!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"Cintra doesn't exist anymore. It's only rubble and ruins. The Nilfgaardians...\"\n\n\"Get down, Dandelion...\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Get down!\"\n\nThe witcher turned forcefully. At the sight of his face, the troubadour shot down from the horse like an arrow, stumbling. Geralt in turn dismounted calmly. Having passed the reins over the mare's head, the witcher stood indecisively fora moment before running his gloved handover his face. He sat on a stump opposite a bush of blood-red dogwood shoots.\n\n\"Come here, Dandelion,\" he said. \"Sit with me and tell me what happened to Cintra. Tell me everything.\"\n\nThe poet sat:\n\n\"The Nilfgaardians dealt the first blow,\" he began after a moment of silence. \"There were thousands. They met with the armies of Cintra in the Marnadal valley. The battle lasted all day: from dawn to dusk. Cintra's troops valiantly resisted before being decimated. The king died, and that's when the queen...\"\n\n\"Calanthe.\"\n\n\"Yes. Seeing that her army had succumbed to panic and scattered, she gathered around herself and her standard any who could still fight and formed a line of defense that reached the river, next to the city. All the soldiers who were still able followed.\"\n\n\"And Calanthe?\"\n\n\"With a handful of knights, she covered the troops' crossing and defended the rear. They say she fought like a man, plunging into the thick of the battle. She was impaled by pikes when she charged against the Nilfgaardian infantry. She was then evacuated to the city." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What's in that flask, Geralt?\"\n\n\"Vodka. Want some?\"\n\n\"Well then, gladly.\"\n\n\"Speak. Continue, Dandelion. Tell me everything.\"\n\n\"The city wasn't properly defended. There was no headquarters. The defensive walls were empty. The rest of the knights and their families, the princes and the queen, barricaded themselves in the castle. The Nilfgaardians then took the castle after their sorcerers reduced the gate to cinders and burned down the walls. Only the tower, apparently protected by magic, resisted the spells of the Nilfgaardian sorcerers. Even so, the attackers penetrated inside four days later without making camp. The women had killed the children, the boys and girls, and fell upon their own swords or... What's is it, Geralt?\"\n\n\"Continue, Dandelion.\"\n\n\"Or... like Calanthe... headfirst, from the battlement, the very top... It's said that she\n\nasked to be... but no-one would agree. So she climbed up to the crenelations and... jumped\n\nheadfirst. They say they did horrible things to the corpse afterward. I don't want... What is it? „\n\n\"Nothing, Dandelion... At Cintra, there was... a child: the little daughter of Calanthe, about tenor eleven years old. Her name was Ciri. Have you heard of her?\"\n\n\"No, but a there was terrible massacre that left almost no-one alive in the city and the castle. None of the defenders of the keep escaped from death, as I told you. Most of the women and the children of the royal families were there.\"\n\nThe witcher remained silent.\n\n\"You knew Calanthe?\" asked Dandelion." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I knew her, indeed.\"\n\n\"And the little girl you told me of? Ciri?\"\n\n\"I knew her well.\"\n\nA wind blew across the river, rippling the surface of the water and shaking the branches of the bush. Some leaves flew by, swirling. It's fall, the witcher thought. It's the new autumn.\n\nGeralt stood.\n\n\"Do you believe in destiny, Dandelion?\"\n\nThe bard lifted his head and looked at the witcher with eyes wide with astonishment.\n\n\"Why do you ask me that?\"\n\n\"Answer.\"\n\n\"Well... yes, I believe.\"\n\n\"But do you know that destiny alone is not enough? That there must be something more?\"\n\n\"I don't understand.\"\n\n\"You're not alone. But that's how it is. It takes something more. The problem is that I... I never knew what that was.\"\n\n\"What is it, Geralt?\"\n\n\"Nothing, Dandelion. Come on, in the saddle. Let's go. Hurry up. Who knows how long it will take to find a big enough boat. I'm still not abandoning Roach.\"\n\n\"We're going to cross together, then?\" asked the poet, invigorated.\n\n\"Yes. I have nothing more to look for on this side of the river.\"\n\nIX\n\n\"Yurga!\"\n\n\"Chrysididae!\"\n\nThe young woman standing next to the gate ran, stumbling and crying out, hair flying, to Yurga who tossed the rains to his servant and leapt out of the cart toward his wife. He took her by the waist, energized, lifted her and whirled." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm back, Chrysididae! I'm back!\"\n\n\"Yurga!\"\n\n\"I'm back! Throw the doors open wide! The master of the house has returned!\"\n\nSurprised in the middle of doing laundry, Chrysididae was wet and smelled of soapy water. Yurga set her back down without releasing her. She remained in his arms, trembling, pressed tight against him.\n\n\"Come with me to the house, Chrysididae.\"\n\n\"By the gods, you returned... I couldn't sleep... Yurga... I couldn't even sleep...\"\n\n\"I'm back. Hey, I'm back! I've even comeback rich, Chrysididae! You seethe cart? Hey, Profit! Crack the whip, go through the gate! You seethe cart, Chrysididae? It carries a lot of things...\"\n\n\"Yurga, what do I care about your cart? You've comeback... in good health... whole...\"\n\n\"I came back rich, I tell you. Come see...\"\n\n\"Yurga? And him, who is he? The one dressed in black? By the gods, with a sword...\"\n\nThe merchant turned. Dismounting, the witcher pretended, with his back turned, to settle the cinches and adjust the saddle of his horse. He did not lookup and he did not approach.\n\n\"I'll tell you later. Oh, Chrysididae, as long as... Tell me, where are the children? They're in good health?\"\n\n\"They're in good health, Yurga, in good health. They went out to the fields to shoot crows. The neighbors will tell them to come home. They'll turn upright away, all three...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"All three? What's... Chrysididae? You can...\"\n\n\"No... but I must tell you something... you won't get angry?\"\n\n\"Me? With you?\"\n\n\"I adopted a little girl, Yurga. The druids took her in... You know, the ones who saved the lives of children after the war... They gathered them up in the forests, the lost and abandoned kids... barely alive... Yurga? Are you angry?\"\n\nYurga slapped his hand to his forehead and turned around. The witcher walked behind the cart, leading his horse. Avoiding their gaze, he kept turning his head.\n\n\"Yurga?\"\n\n\"Oh, by the gods,\" groaned the merchant. \"By the gods, Chrysididae! Something that I didn't expect! At home!\"\n\n\"Don't be angry, Yurga... You'll see that you'll grow to love her. She's a smart little girl, friendly, hardworking... a little strange, it's true. She refused to say where she was from and then started to cry. So I don't ask her questions. Yurga, you know how much I've always wanted to have a little girl... What do you think?\"\n\n\"Nothing,\" he replied softly. \"Nothing. It's destiny.\" All along the way, he kept repeating the word feverishly: \"Destiny, destiny... By the gods... we aren't capable of understanding what it is, Chrysididae. It's impossible to know the thoughts of something like that. And the dreams. We aren't capable...\"\n\n\"Papa!!!\"\n\n\"Nadbor! Sulik! How you've grown! Regular little bulls! Come tome...\"\n\nYurga stopped dead when he saw the sickly little girl with her ashen hair walking slowly behind the boys. The little girl looked at him. The merchant noticed the large green eyes like spring grass and bright as two stars. He saw her suddenly pickup speed and run... He heard her cry out in a shrill and piercing voice:" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Geralt!\"\n\nThe witcher turned instantly and rushed to meet the young girl. The scene left Yurga speechless. He had never seen anyone move so fast.\n\nThey met in the middle of the yard: the little girl with ashen hair surrounded by a gray dress; the white-haired witcher with his sword on his shoulder, dressed in black leather studded with silver; bounding lightly; the little girl trotting; the witcher kneeling; the tiny hands of the little girl around his neck; the mouse-gray hair of the girl falling on the witcher's shoulders. Chrysididae gave a muffled scream. Yurga drew her to him without saying a word and took her in his arms. His other arm hugged the two boys.\n\n\"Geralt!\" the little girl repeated, hugging the witcher's chest. \"You've found me! I knew it! I always knew! I knew you'd find me!\"\n\n\"Ciri,\" the witcher said.\n\nYurga didn't see Geralt's face, hidden by the little girl's ashen hair. He only saw black-gloved hands squeezing Ciri's back and shoulders.\n\n\"You've finally found me! Oh, Geralt! I waited all this time! It took so long... We'll stay together now, won't we? Now we'll be together, right? Say it, Geralt! Forever! Say it!\"\n\n\"Forever, Ciri.\"\n\n\"It's just like they predicted, Geralt! Like they predicted... I'm your destiny? Say it! I'm your destiny?\"\n\nYurga saw astonishment in the eyes of the witcher. He heard Chrysididae's discreet sobs and felt her shoulders trembling. He knew that he would not understand the answer, but he waited anyway. With good reason:" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're more than that, Ciri. More than that.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "As the author's assistant, please continue the story.\nTags: fantasy, dragonlance, twins\nAuthor: Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman\nTitle: Test of the Twins\nChapter: 9" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Tower'll be there,\" Caramon said grimly, making the final adjustment to the magical device. He held it up. Its jewels caught the rays of Solinari and, for an instant, gleamed with radiance. Then the storm clouds swept over the moon, devouring it. The darkness was now intense, split only by the brilliant, beautiful, deadly lightning.\n\nGritting his teeth against the pain, Caramon grabbed his crutch and struggled to his feet. Tas followed more slowly, gazing at Caramon miserably.\n\n\"You see, Tas, I've come to know Raistlin,\" Caramon continued, ignoring the kender's woebegone expression. \"Too late, maybe, but I know him now. He hated that Tower, just as he hated those mages for what they did to him there. But even as he hates it, he loves it all the same-because it is part of his Art, Tas. And his Art, his magic, means more to him than life itself. No, the Tower will be there.\"\n\nLifting the device in his hands, Caramon began the chant, \"\"Thy time is thine own. Though across it you travel-\"\"\n\nBut he was interrupted.\n\n\"Oh, Caramon!\" Tas wailed, clutching at him. \"Don't take me back to Par-Salian! He'll do something awful tome! I know it! He might turn me into a-a bat!\" Tas paused. \"And, while I suppose it might be interesting being a bat, I'm not certain I could get used to sleeping upside down, hanging by my feet. And I am rather fond of being a kender, now that I think of it, and-\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\" Caramon glared at him, then glanced up at the storm clouds. The rain was increasing in fury, the lightning striking nearer." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Par-Salian!\" cried Tas frantically. \"I-I messed up his magical time-traveling spell! I went when I wasn't supposed to! And then I stol-er-found a magical ring that someone had left lying about and it turned me into a mouse! I'm certain he must be rather peeved over that! And then I-I broke the magical device, Caramon. Remember? Well, it wasn't exactly my fault, Raistlin made me break it! But a really strict person might take the unfortunate attitude that if I had left it alone in the first place-like I knew I was supposed to-then that wouldn't have happened. And Par-Salian seems an awfully strict sort of person, don't you think? And while I did have Gnimsh fix it, he didn't fix it quite right, you know-\"\n\n\"Tasslehoff,\" said Caramon tiredly, \"shut up.\"\n\n\"Yes, Caramon,\" Tas said meekly, with a snuffle.\n\nCaramon looked at the small dejected figure reflected in the bright lightning and sighed. \"Look, Tas, I won't let Par-Salian do anything to you. I promise. He'll have to turn me into a bat first.\"\n\n\"Truly?\" asked Tas anxiously.\n\n\"My word,\" said Caramon, his eyes on the storm. \"Now, give me your hand and let's get out of here.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" said Tas cheerfully, slipping his small hand into Caramon's large one.\n\n\"And Tas...\"\n\n\"Yes, Caramon?\"\n\n\"This time-think of the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth! No moons!\"\n\n\"Yes, Caramon,\" Tas said with a profound sigh. Then he smiled again. \"You know,\" he said to himself as Caramon began to recite the chant again, \"I'll bet Caramon would make a whopping big bat-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They found themselves standing at the edge of a forest.\n\n\"It's not my fault, Caramon!\" Tas said quickly. \"I thought about the Tower with all my heart and soul. I'm certain I never thought once about a forest.\"\n\nCaramon stared intently into the woods. It was still night, but the sky was clear, though storm clouds were visible on the horizon. Lunitari burned a dull, smoldering red. Solinari was dropping down into the storm. And above them, the starry hourglass.\n\n\"Well, we're in the right time period. But wherein the name of the gods are we?\" Caramon muttered, leaning on his crutch and glaring at the magical device irritably. His gaze went back to the shadowy trees, their trunks visible in the garish moonlight. Suddenly, his expression cleared. \"It's all right, Tas,\" he said in relief. \"Don't you recognize this? It's Wayreth Forest-the magical forest that stands guard around the Tower of High Sorcery!\"\n\n\"Are you sure?\" Tas asked doubtfully. \"It certainly doesn't look the same as the last time I saw it. Then it was all ugly, with dead trees lurking about, staring at me, and when I tried to go inside it wouldn't let me and when I tried to leave it wouldn't let me and-\"\n\n\"This is it,\" Caramon muttered, folding the sceptre back into its nondescript pendant shape again.\n\n\"Then what happened to it?\"\n\n\"The same thing that happened to the rest of the world, Tas,\" Caramon replied, carefully slipping the pendant back into the leather pouch.\n\nTas's thoughts went back to the last time he had seen the magical Forest of Wayreth. Set to guard the Tower of High Sorcery from unwelcome intruders, the Forest was a strange and eerie place. For one thing, a person didn't find the magical forest-it found you. And the first time it had found Tas and Caramon was right after Lord Soth had cast the death spell on Lady Crysania. Tas had wakened from a sound sleep to discover the Forest standing where no forest had been the night before!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The trees then had appeared to be dead. Their limbs were bare and twisted, a chill mist flowed from beneath their trunks. Inside dwelt dark and shadowy shapes. But the trees hadn't been dead. In fact, they had the uncanny habit of following a person. Tas remembered trying to walkaway from the Forest, only to continually find himself-no matter what direction he traveled-always walking into it.\n\nThat had been spooky enough, but when Caramon walked into the Forest, it had changed dramatically. The dead trees began to grow, turning into vallenwoods! The Forest was transformed from a dark and forbidding wood filled with death into a beautiful green and golden forest of life. Birds sang sweetly in the branches of the vallenwoods, inviting them inside.\n\nAnd now the Forest had changed again. Tas stared at it, puzzled. It seemed to be both forests he remembered-yet neither of them. The trees appeared dead, their twisted limbs were stark and bare. But, as he watched, he thought he saw them move in a manner that seemed very much alive! Reaching out, like grasping arms....\n\nTurning his back on the spooky Forest of Wayreth, Tas investigated his surroundings. All else was exactly as it had been in Solace. No other trees stood at all-living or dead. He was surrounded by nothing but blackened, blasted stumps. The ground was covered with the same slimy, gray mud. For as far as he could see, in fact, there was nothing but desolation and death....\n\n\"Caramon,\" Tas cried suddenly, pointing.\n\nCaramon glanced over. Beside one of the stumps lay a huddled figure.\n\n\"A person!\" Tas cried in wild excitement. \"Someone else is here!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Tas!\" Caramon called out warningly, but before he could stop him, the kender was dashing over.\n\n\"Hey!\" he yelled. \"Hullo! Are you asleep? Wake up.\" Reaching down, he shook the figure, only to have it rollover at his touch, lying stiff and rigid.\n\n\"Oh!\" Tas took a step backward, then stopped. \"Oh, Caramon,\" he said softly. \"It's Bupu!\"\n\nOnce, long ago, Raistlin had befriended the gully dwarf. Now she stared up at the starlit sky with empty, sightless eyes. Dressed in filthy, ragged clothing, her small body was pitifully thin, her grubby face wasted and gaunt. Around her neck was a leather thong. Attached to the end of the thong was a stiff, dead lizard. In one hand, she clutched a dead rat, in the other she held a dried-up chicken leg. As death approached, she had summoned up all the magic she possessed, Tas thought sadly, but it hadn't helped.\n\n\"She hasn't been dead long,\" Caramon said. Limping over, he knelt down painfully beside the shabby little corpse. \"Looks like she starved to death.\" He reached out his hand and gently closed the staring eyes. Then he shook his head. \"I wonder how she came to live this long? The bodies we saw back in Solace must have been dead months, at least.\"\n\n\"Maybe Raistlin protected her,\" Tasslehoff said before he thought.\n\nCaramon scowled. \"Bah! It's just coincidence, that's all,\" he said harshly. \"You know gully dwarves, Tas. They can live on anything. My guess is that they were the last creatures to survive. Bupu, being the smartest of the lot, just managed to survive longer than the rest. But-in the end, even a gully dwarf would perish in this god-cursed land.\" He shrugged. \"Here, help me stand.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What-what are we going to do with her, Caramon?\" Tas asked bleakly. \"Are-are we just going to leave her?\"\n\n\"What else can we do?\" Caramon muttered gruffly. The sight of the gully dwarf and the nearness of the Forest were bringing back painful, unwelcome memories. \"Would you want to be buried in that mud?\" He shivered and glanced about. The storm clouds were rushing closer; he could seethe lightning streaking down to the ground and hear the roar of the thunder. \"Besides, we don't have much time, not the way those clouds are moving in.\"\n\nTas continued to stare at him sorrowfully.\n\n\"There's nothing left alive to bother her anyway, Tas,\" he snapped irritably. Then, seeing the grieved expression on the kender's face, Caramon slowly removed his own cloak and carefully spread it over the emaciated corpse. \"We better get going,\" he said.\n\n\"Good-bye, Bupu,\" Tas said softly. Patting the stiff little hand that was tightly clutching the dead rat, he started to pull the corner of the cloak over it when he saw something flash in Lunitari's red light. Tas caught his breath, thinking he recognized the object. Carefully, he pried the gully dwarf's death-stiffened fingers apart. The dead rat fell to the ground and-with it-an emerald.\n\nTas picked up the jewel. In his mind, he was back to... where had it been? Xak Tsaroth?\n\nThey had been in a sewer pipe hiding from draconian troops. Raistlin had been seized by a fit of coughing....\n\nBupu gazed at him anxiously, then thrust her small hand into her bag, fished around for several moments, and came up with an object that she held up to the light. She squinted at it then sighed and shook her head. \"This not what I want,\" she mumbled." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tasslehoff, catching sight of a brilliant, colorful flash, crept closer. \"What is it?\" he asked, even though he knew the answer. Raistlin, too, was staring at the object with wide glittering eyes.\n\nBupu shrugged. \"Pretty rock,\" she said without interest, searching through the bag once more.\n\n\"An emerald!\" Raistlin wheezed.\n\nBupu glanced up. \"You like?\" she asked Raistlin.\n\n\"Very much!\" The mage gasped.\n\n\"You keep.\" Bupu put the jewel in the mage's hand. Then, with a cry of triumph, she brought out what she had been searching for. Tas, leaning up close to seethe new wonder, drew back in disgust. It was a dead-very dead-lizard. There was apiece of chewed-on leather tied around the lizard's stiff tail. Bupu held it toward Raistlin.\n\n\"You wear around neck,\" she said. \"Cure cough.\"\n\n\"So Raistlin was here,\" Tas murmured. \"He gave this to her, he must have! But why? A charm... a gift?...\" Shaking his head, the kender sighed and stood up. \"Caramon-\" he began, then he saw the big man standing, staring into the Forest of Wayreth. He saw Caramon's paleface and he guessed what he must bethinking, remembering.\n\nTasslehoff slipped the emerald into a pocket.\n\nThe Forest of Wayreth seemed as dead and desolate as the rest of the world around them. But, to Caramon, it was alive with memories. Nervously he stared at the strange trees, their wet trunks and decaying limbs seeming to glisten with blood in Lunitari's light." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I was frightened the first time I came here,\" Caramon said to himself, his hand on the hilt of his sword. \"I wouldn't have gone in at all if it hadn't been for Raistlin. I was even more frightened the second time, when we brought Lady Crysania hereto try to find help for her. I wouldn't have gone in then for any reason except those birds lured me with their sweet song.\" He smiled grimly. \"\"Easeful the forest. Easeful the mansions perfected. Where we grow and decay no longer, ' they sang. I thought they promised help. I thought they promised me all the answers. But I see now what the song meant. Death, that is the only perfect mansion, the only dwelling place where we grow and decay no longer!\"\n\nStaring into the woods, Caramon shivered, despite the oppressive heat of the night air. \"I'm more frightened of it this time than ever before,\" he muttered. \"Something's wrong in there.\" A brilliant flash lit up sky and ground with the brightness of day, followed by a dull boom and the splash of rain upon his cheek. \"But at least it's still standing,\" he said. \"Its magic must be strong-to survive the storm.\" His stomach wrenched painfully. Reminded of his thirst, he licked his dry, parched lips. \"\"Easeful the forest, '\" he muttered.\n\n\"What did you say?\" asked Tas, coming up beside him.\n\n\"I said as good one death as another,\" Caramon answered, shrugging.\n\n\"You know, I've died three times,\" said Tas solemnly. \"The first was in Tarsis, where the dragons knocked a building down on top of me. The second was in Neraka, where I was poisoned by a trap and Raistlin saved me. And the last was when the gods dropped a fiery mountain on me. And, all in all\"-he pondered a moment-\"I think I could say that was a fair statement. One death is just about the same as another. You see, the poison hurt a great deal, but it was over pretty quickly. While the building, on the other hand-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"C'mon\"-Caramon grinned wearily-\"save it to tell Flint.\" He drew his sword. \"Ready?\"\n\n\"Ready,\" answered Tas stoutly. \"\"Always save the best for last,\" my father used to say. Although\"-the kender paused-\"I think he meant that in reference to dinner, not to dying. But perhaps it has the same significance.\"\n\nDrawing his own small knife, Tas followed Caramon into the enchanted Forest of Wayreth." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "he darkness swallowed them. Light from neither moon nor stars could penetrate the night of the Forest of Wayreth. Even the brilliance of the deadly, magical lightning was lost here. And though the booming of the thunder could be heard, it seemed nothing but a distant echo of itself. Behind them, Caramon could hear, too, the drumming of the rain and the pelting of the hail. In the Forest, it was dry. Only the trees that stood on the outer fringes were affected by the rain.\n\n\"Well, this is a relief!\" said Tasslehoff cheerfully. \"Now, if we just had some light. I-\"\n\nHis voice was cutoff with a choking gurgle. Caramon heard a thud and creaking wood and a sound like something being dragged along the ground.\n\n\"Tas?\" he called.\n\n\"Caramon!\" Tas cried. \"It's a tree! A tree's got me! Help, Caramon! Help!\"\n\n\"Is this a joke, Tas?\" Caramon asked sternly. \"Because it's not funny-\"\n\n\"No!\" Tas screamed. \"It's got me and it's dragging me off somewhere!\"\n\n\"What... where?\" Caramon yelled. \"I can't see in this damn darkness? Tas?\"\n\n\"Here! Here!\" Tas screamed wildly. \"It's got hold of my foot and it's trying to tear me in two!\"\n\n\"Keep yelling, Tas!\" Caramon cried, stumbling about in the rustling blackness. \"I think I'm close-\"\n\nA huge tree limb bashed Caramon in the chest, knocking him to the ground and slamming his breath from his body. He lay there, trying to draw in air, when he heard a creaking to his right. Ashe slashed at it blindly with his sword, he rolled away. Something heavy crashed right where he'd been lying. He staggered to his feet, but another limb struck him in the small of his back, sending him sprawling face first onto the barren floor of the Forest." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The blow to the back caught him in the kidneys, making him gasp in pain." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He tried to struggle backup, but his knee throbbed painfully, his head spun. He couldn't hear Tas anymore. He couldn't hear anything except the creaking, rustling sounds of the trees closing in on him. Something scraped along his arm. Caramon flinched and crawled out of its reach, only to feel something grab his foot. Desperately he hacked at it with his sword. Flying wood chips stung his leg, but apparently did no harm to his attacker.\n\nThe strength of centuries was in the tree's massive limbs. Magic gave it thought and purpose. Caramon had trespassed on land it guarded, land forbidden to the uninvited. It was going to kill him, he knew.\n\nAnother tree limb caught hold of Caramon's thick thigh. Branches clutched at his arms, seeking a firm grip. Within seconds, he would be ripped apart.... He heard Tas cry out in pain....\n\nRaising his voice, Caramon shouted desperately, \"I am Caramon Majere, brother of Raistlin Majere! I must speak to Par-Salian or whoever is Master of the Tower now!\"\n\nThere was a moment's silence, a moment's hesitation. Caramon felt the will of the trees waver, the branches loosen their grip ever so slightly.\n\n\"Par-Salian, are you there? Par-Salian, you know me! I am his twin. I am your only hope!\"\n\n\"Caramon?\" came a quavering voice.\n\n\"Hush, Tas!\" Caramon hissed.\n\nThe silence was as thick as the darkness. And then, slowly, he felt the branches release him. He heard the creaking and rustling sounds again, only this time they were moving slowly away from him. Gasping in relief, weak from fear and the pain and the growing sickness inside him, Caramon lay his head on his arm, trying to catch his breath." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Tas, are you all right?\" he managed to call out.\n\n\"Yes, Caramon,\" came the kender's voice beside him. Reaching out his hand, Caramon caught hold of the kender and pulled him close.\n\nThough he heard the sounds of movement in the darkness and knew the trees were withdrawing, he also had the feeling the trees were watching his every move, listening to every word. Slowly and cautiously, he sheathed his sword.\n\n\"I am truly thankful you thought of telling Par-Salian who you are, Caramon,\" Tas said, panting for breath. \"I was just imagining trying to explain to Flint how I'd been murdered by a tree. I'm not certain whether or not you're allowed to laugh in the Afterlife, but I'll bet he would have roared-\"\n\n\"Shhhh,\" Caramon said weakly.\n\nTas paused, then whispered, \"Are you all right?\"\n\n\"Yeah, just let me catch my breath. I've lost my crutch.\"\n\n\"It's over here. I fell over it.\" Tas crawled off and returned moments later, dragging the padded tree branch. \"Here.\" He helped Caramon stagger to his feet.\n\n\"Caramon,\" he asked after a moment, \"how long do you think it will take us to get to the Tower? I-I'm awfully thirsty and, while my insides area little better since I was sick awhile back, I still get queer squirmy feelings in my stomach sometimes.\"\n\n\"I don't know, Tas,\" Caramon sighed. \"I can't see a damn thing in this darkness. I don't know where we're going or what's the right way or how we're going to manage to walk without running smack into something-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The rustling sounds suddenly started again, as though a storm wind were tossing the branches of the trees. Caramon tensed and even Tas stiffened in alarm as they heard the trees start to close in around them once more. Tas and Caramon stood helpless in the darkness as the trees came nearer and nearer. Branches touched their skin and dead leaves brushed their hair, whispering strange words in their ears. Caramon's shaking hand closed over his sword hilt, though he knew it would do little good. But then, when the trees were pressed close around them, the movement and the whispering ceased. The trees were silent once more.\n\nReaching out his hand, Caramon touched solid trunks to his right and his left. He could feel them massed behind him. An idea occurred to him. He stretched his arm out into the darkness and felt around ahead of him. All was clear.\n\n\"Keep close tome, Tas,\" he ordered and, for once in his life, the kender didn't argue. Together, they walked forward into the opening provided by the trees.\n\nAt first they moved cautiously, fearful of stumbling over a root or a fallen branch or becoming entangled in brush or tumbling into a hole. But gradually they came to realize that the forest floor was smooth and dry, cleared of all obstacles, free from undergrowth. They had no idea where they were going. They walked in absolute darkness, kept to some irreversible path only by the trees that parted before them and closed in after them. Any deviation from the set path brought them into a wall of trunks and tangled branches and dead, whispering leaves.\n\nThe heat was oppressive. No wind blew, no rain fell. Their thirst, lost in their fear, returned to plague them. Wiping the sweat from his face, Caramon wondered at the strange, intense heat, for it was much greater here than outside the Forest. It seemed as if the heat were being generated by the Forest itself. The Forest was more alive that he had noticed the last two times he had been here. It was certainly more alive than the world outside. Amid the rustling of the trees, he could hear-or thought he heard-movements of animals or the rush of birds'wings, and sometimes he caught a glimpse of eyes shining in the darkness. But being among living beings once more brought no sense of comfort to Caramon. He felt their hatred and their anger and, even as he felt it, he realized that it wasn't directed against him. It was directed against itself." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And then he heard the birds'songs again, as he had heard them the last time he'd entered this eerie place. High and sweet and pure, rising above death and darkness and defeat, rose the song of a lark. Caramon stopped to listen, tears stinging his eyes at the beauty of the song, feeling his heart's pain ease.\n\nThe light in the eastern skies Is still and always morning, It alters the renewing air Into belief and yearning.\n\nAnd larks rise up like angels, Like angels larks ascend From sunlit grass as bright as gems Into the cradling wind.\n\nBut even as the lark's song pierced his heart with its sweetness, a harsh cackle made him cringe. Black wings fluttered around him, and his soul was filled with shadows.\n\nThe plain light in the east Contrives out of the dark The machinery of day, The diminished song of the lark.\n\nBut ravens ride the night And the darkness west, The wingbeat of their hearts Large in a buried nest.\n\n\"What does it mean, Caramon?\" Tas asked in awe as they continued to grope their way through the Forest, guided, always, by the angry trees.\n\nThe answer to his question came, not from Caramon, but from other voices, mellow, deep, sad with the ancient wisdom of the owl.\n\nThrough night the seasons ride into the dark, The years surrender in the changing lights, The breath turns vacant on the dusk or dawn Between the abstract days and nights. For there is always corpselight in the fields And corposants above the slaughterhouse, And at deep noon the shadowy vallenwoods Are bright at the topmost boughs.\n\n\"It means the magic is out of control,\" Caramon said softly. \"Whatever will holds this Forest in check is just barely hanging on.\" He shivered. \"I wonder what we'll find when we get to the Tower.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If we get to the Tower,\" Tas muttered. \"How do we know that these awful, old trees aren't leading us to the edge of a tall cliff?\"\n\nCaramon stopped, panting for breath in the terrible heat. The crude crutch dug painfully into his armpit. With his weight off of it, his knee had begun to stiffen. His leg was inflamed and swollen, and he knew he could not goon much longer. He, too, had been sick, purging his system of the poison, and now he felt somewhat better. But thirst was a torment. And, as Tas reminded him, he had no idea where these trees were leading them.\n\nRaising his voice, his throat parched, Caramon cried out harshly, \"Par-Salian! Answer me or I'll go no farther! Answer me!\"\n\nThe trees broke out in a clamor, branches shaking and stirring as if in a high wind, though no breeze cooled Caramon's feverish skin. The birds\" voices rose in a fearful cacophony, intermingling, overlapping, twisting their songs into horrible, unlovely melodies that filled the mind with terror and foreboding.\n\nEven Tas was a bit startled by this, creeping closer to Caramon (in case the big man needed comfort), but Caramon stood resolutely, staring into the endless night, ignoring the turmoil around him.\n\n\"Par-Salian!\" he called once more.\n\nThen he heard his answer-a thin, high-pitched scream.\n\nAt the dreadful sound, Caramon's skin crawled. The scream pierced through the darkness and the heat. It rose above the strange singing of the birds and drowned out the clashing of the trees. It seemed to Caramon as if all the horror and sorrow of the dying world had been sucked up and released at last in that fearful cry." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Name of the gods!\" Tas breathed in awe, catching hold of Caramon's hand (in case the big man should feel frightened). \"What's happening?\"\n\nCaramon didn't answer. He could feel the anger in the Forest grow more intense, mingled now with an overwhelming fear and sadness. The trees seemed to be prodding them ahead, crowding them, urging them on. The screaming continued for as long as it might take a man to use up his breath, then it quit for the space of a man drawing air into his lungs, then it began again. Caramon felt the sweat chill on his body.\n\nHe kept walking, Tas close by his side. They made slow progress, made worse by the fact that they had no idea if they were making progress at all, since they could not see their destination nor even know if they were headed in the right direction. The only guide they had to the Tower was that shrill, inhuman scream.\n\nOn and on they stumbled and, though Tas helped as best he could, each step for Caramon was agony. The pain of his injuries took possession of him and soon he lost all conception of time. He forgot why they had come or even where they were going. To stagger ahead, one step at a time through the darkness that had become a darkness of the mind and soul, was Caramon's only thought.\n\nHe kept walking-\n\nand walking-\n\nand walking-\n\none step, one step, one step...\n\nAnd all the time, shrilling in his ears, that horrible, undying scream...\n\n\"Caramon!\"\n\nThe voice penetrated his weary, pain-numbed brain. He had a feeling he had been hearing it for sometime now, above the scream, but-if so-it hadn't pierced the fog of blackness that enshrouded him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What?\" he mumbled, and now he became aware that hands were grasping him, shaking him. He raised his head and looked around. \"What?\" he asked again, struggling to regain his grasp of reality. \"Tas?\"\n\n\"Look, Caramon!\" The kender's voice came to him through a haze, and he shook his head, desperately, to clear away the fog in his brain.\n\nAnd he realized he could see. It was light-moonlight! Blinking his eyes, he stared around. \"The Forest?\"\n\n\"Behind us,\" Tas whispered, as though talking about it might suddenly bring it back. \"It's brought us somewhere, at least. I'm just not certain where. Look around. Do you remember this?\"\n\nCaramon looked. The shadow of the Forest was gone. He and Tas were standing in a clearing. Swiftly, fearfully, he glanced around.\n\nAt his feet yawned a dark chasm.\n\nBehind them, the Forest waited. Caramon did not have to turn to see it, he knew it was there, just as he knew that they would never reenter it and get out alive. It had led them this far, here it would leave them. But where was here? The trees were behind them, but ahead of them lay nothing-just avast, dark void. They might have been standing on the very edge of a cliff, as Tas had said.\n\nStorm clouds darkened the horizon, but-for the time being-none seemed close. Up above, he could seethe moons and stars in the sky. Lunitari burned a fiery red, Solinari's silver light glowed with a radiant brilliance Caramon had never seen before. And now, perhaps because of the stark contrast between darkness and light, he could see Nuitari-the black moon, the moon that had been visible only to his brother's eyes. Around the moons, the stars shone fiercely, none brighter than the strange hourglass constellation." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The only sounds he could hear were the angry mutterings of the Forest behind him and, ahead of him, that shrill, horrible scream.\n\nThey had no choice, Caramon thought wearily. There was no turning back. The Forest would not permit that. And what was death anyhow except an end to this pain, this thirst, this bitter aching in his heart.\n\n\"Stay here, Tas,\" he began, trying to disengage the kender's small hand as he prepared to step forward into the darkness. \"I'm going to go ahead a little way and scout-\"\n\n\"Oh, no!\" Tas cried. \"You're not going anywhere without me!\" The kender's hand gripped his even more firmly. \"Why, just look at all the trouble you got into by yourself in the dwarf wars!\" he added, trying to get rid of an annoying choking feeling in his throat. \"And when I did get there, I had to save your life.\" Tas looked down into the darkness that lay at their feet, then he gritted his teeth resolutely and raised his gaze to meet that of the big man. \"I-I think it would be awfully lonely in-in the Afterlife without you and, besides, I can just hear Flint-\" Well, you doorknob, what have you gone and done this time? Managed to lose that great hulking hunk of lard, did you? It figures. Now, I suppose I'll have to leave my nice soft seat hereunder this tree and set off in search of the muscle-bound idiot. Never did know when to come in out of the rain-\"\n\n\"Very well, Tas,\" Caramon interrupted with a smile, having a sudden vision of the crotchety old dwarf. \"It would never do to disturb Flint. I'd never hear the end of it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Besides,\" Tas went on, feeling more cheerful, \"why would they bring us all this way just to dump us in a pit?\"\n\n\"Why, indeed?\" Caramon said, reflecting. Gripping his crutch, feeling more confident, he took a step into the darkness, Tas following along behind.\n\n\"Unless,\" the kender added with a gulp, \"Par-Salian's still mad at me....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "he Tower of High Sorcery loomed before them-a thing of darkness, silhouetted against the light of moon and stars, looking as though it had been created out of the night itself. For centuries it had stood, a bastion of magic, the repository of the books and artifacts of the Art, collected over the years.\n\nHere the mages had come when they were driven from the Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas by the Kingpriest, here they brought with them those most valued objects, saved from the attacking mobs. Here they dwelt in peace, guarded by the Forest of Wayreth. Young apprentice magic-users took the Test here, the grueling Test that meant death to those who failed it.\n\nHere Raistlin had come and lost his soul to Fistandantilus. Here Caramon had been forced to watch as Raistlin murdered an illusion of his twin brother.\n\nHere Caramon and Tas had returned with the gully dwarf, Bupu, bearing the comatose body of Lady Crysania. Here they had attended a Conclave of the Three Robes-Black, Red, and White. Here they had learned Raistlin's ambition-to challenge the Queen of Darkness. Here they had met his apprentice and spy for the Conclave-Dalamar. Here the great archmage Par-Salian had cast a time-travel spell on Caramon and Lady Crysania, sending them back to Istar before the mountain fell.\n\nHere, Tasslehoff had inadvertently upset the spell by jumping into go with Caramon. Thus, the presence of the kender-forbidden by all the laws of magic-allowed time to be altered.\n\nNow Caramon and Tas had returned-to find what?\n\nCaramon stared at the Tower, his heart heavy with foreboding and dread. His courage failed him. He could not enter, not with the sound of that pitiful, persistent screaming echoing in his ears. Better to go back, better to face quick death in the Forest. Besides, he had forgotten the gates. Made of silver and of gold, they still stood, steadfastly blocking his way into the Tower. Thin as cobweb they seemed, looking like black streaks painted down the starlit sky. A touch of a kender's hand might have opened them. Yet magical spells were wound about them, spells so powerful an army of ogres could have hurled itself against those fragile-seeming gates without effect." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Still the screaming, louder now and nearer. So near, in fact, that it might have come from-\n\nCaramon took another step forward, his brow creased in a frown. Ashe did so, the gate came clearly into view.\n\nAnd revealed the source of the screaming....\n\nThe gates were not shut, nor were they locked. One gate stood fast, as if still spellbound. But the other had broken, and now it swung by one hinge, back and forth, back and forth in the hot, unceasing wind. And, as it blew back and forth slowly in the breeze, it gave forth a shrill, high-pitched shriek.\n\n\"It's not locked,\" said Tas in disappointment. His small hand had already been reaching for his lockpicking tools.\n\n\"No,\" said Caramon, staring up at the squeaking hinge. \"And there's the voice we heard-the voice of rusty metal.\" He supposed he should have been relieved, but it only deepened the mystery. \"If it wasn't Par-Salian or someone up there\"-his eyes went to the Tower that stood, black and apparently empty before them-\"who got us through the Forest, then who was it?\"\n\n\"Maybe no one,\" Tas said hopefully. \"If no one's here, Caramon, can we leave?\"\n\n\"There has to be someone,\" Caramon muttered. \"Something made those trees let us pass.\"\n\nTas sighed, his head drooping. Caramon could see him in the moonlight, his small face pale and covered with grime. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes, his lower lip quivered, and a tear was sneaking down one side of his small nose.\n\nCaramon patted him on the shoulder. \"Just a little longer,\" he said gently. \"Holdout just a little longer, please, Tas?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Looking up quickly, swallowing that traitor tear and its partner that had just dripped into his mouth, Tas grinned cheerfully." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sure, Caramon,\" he said. Not even the fact that his throat was aching and parched with thirst could keep him from adding, \"You know me-always ready for adventure. There's bound to be lots of magical, wonderful things in there, don't you think?\" he added, glancing at the silent Tower. \"Things no one would miss. Not magical rings, of course. I'm finished with magical rings. First one lands me in a wizard's castle where I meta truly wicked demon, then the next turns me into a mouse. I-\"\n\nLetting Tas prattle on, glad that the kender was apparently feeling back to normal, Caramon hobbled forward and put his hand upon the swinging gate to shove it to one side. To his amazement, it broke off-the weakened hinge finally giving way. The gate clattered to the gray paving stone beneath it with a clang that made both Tas and Caramon cringe. The echoes bounded off the black, polished walls of the Tower, resounding through the hot night and shattering the stillness.\n\n\"Well, now they know we're here,\" said Tas.\n\nCaramon's hand once again closed over his sword hilt, but he did not draw it. The echoes faded. Silence closed in. Nothing happened. No one came. No voice spoke.\n\nTas turned to help Caramon limp ahead. \"At least we won't have to listen to that awful sound anymore,\" he said, stepping over the broken gate. \"I don't mind saying so now, but that shriek was beginning to get on my nerves. It certainly sounded very ungate-like, if you know what I mean. It sounded just like... just like...\"\n\n\"Like that,\" Caramon whispered.\n\nThe scream split the air, shattering the moonlit darkness, only this time it was different. There were words in this scream-words that could be heard, if not defined." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Turning his head involuntary, though he knew what he would see, Caramon stared back at the gate." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It lay on the stones, dead, lifeless.\n\n\"Caramon,\" said Tas, swallowing, \"it-it's coming from there-the Tower....\"\n\n\"End it!\" screamed Par-Salian. \"End this torment! Do not force me to endure more!\"\n\nHow much did you force me to endure, O Great One of the White Robes? came a soft, sneering voice into Par-Salian's mind. The wizard writhed in agony, but the voice persisted, relentless, flaying his soul like a scourge. You brought me here and gave me up to him-Fistandantilus! You sat and watched as he wrenched the lifeforce from me, draining it so that he might live upon this plane.\n\n\"It was you who made the bargain,\" Par-Salian cried, his ancient voice carrying through the empty hallways of the Tower. \"You could have refused him-\"\n\nAnd what? Died honorably? The voice laughed. What kind of choice is that? I wanted to live! To grow in my Art! And I did live. And you, in your bitterness, gave me these hourglass eyes-these eyes that saw nothing but death and decay all around me. Now, you look, Par-Salian! What do you see around you? Nothing but death.... Death and decay... So we are even.\n\nPar-Salian moaned. The voice continued, mercilessly, pitilessly.\n\nEven, yes. And now I will grind you into dust. For, in your last tortured moments, Par-Salian, you will witness my triumph. Already my constellation shines in the sky. The Queen dwindles. Soon she will fade and begone forever. My final foe, Paladine, waits for me now. I see him approach. But he is no challenge-an old man, bent, his face grieved and filled with the sorrow that will prove his undoing. For he is weak, weak and hurt beyond healing, as was Crysania, his poor cleric, who died upon the shifting planes of the Abyss. You will watch me destroy him, Par-Salian, and when that battle is ended, when the constellation of the Platinum Dragon plummets from the sky, when Solinari's light is extinguished, when you have seen and acknowledged the power of the Black Moon and paid homage to the new and only god-tome-then you will be released, Par-Salian, to find what solace you can in death!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Astinus of Palanthas recorded the words as he had recorded Par-Salian's scream, writing the crisp, black, bold letters in slow, unhurried style." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He sat before the great Portal in the Tower of High Sorcery, staring into the Portal's shadowy depths, seeing within those depths a figure blacker even than the darkness around him. All that was visible were two golden eyes, their pupils the shape of hourglasses, staring back at him and at the white-robed wizard trapped next to him.\n\nFor Par-Salian was a prisoner in his own Tower. From the waist up, he was living man-his white hair flowing about his shoulders, his white robes covering a body thin and emaciated, his dark eyes fixed upon the Portal. The sights he had seen had been dreadful and had, long ago, nearly destroyed his sanity. But he could not withdraw his gaze. From the waist up, Par-Salian was living man. From the waist down-he was a marble pillar. Cursed by Raistlin, Par-Salian was forced to stand in the topmost room of his Tower and watch-in bitter agony-the end of the world.\n\nNext to him sat Astinus-Historian of the World, Chronicler, writing this last chapter of Krynn's brief, shining history. Palanthas the Beautiful, where Astinus had lived and where the Great Library had stood, was now nothing but a heap of ash and charred bodies. Astinus had come to this, the last place standing upon Krynn, to witness and record the world's final, terrifying hours. When all was finished, he would take the closed book and lay it upon the altar of Gilean, God of Neutrality. And that would be the end.\n\nSensing the black-robed figure within the Portal turning its gaze upon him, when he came to the end of a sentence, Astinus raised his eyes to meet the figure's golden ones.\n\nAs you were first, Astinus, said the figure, so shall you be last. When you have recorded my ultimate victory, the book will be closed. I will rule unchallenged." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"True, you will rule unchallenged. You will rule a dead world. A world your magic destroyed. You will rule alone. And you will be alone, alone in the formless, eternal void,\" Astinus replied coolly, writing even as he spoke. Beside him, Par-Salian moaned and tore at his white hair.\n\nSeeing as he saw everything-without seeming to see-Astinus watched the black-robed figure's hands clench. That is a lie, old friend! I will create! New worlds will be mine. New peoples I will produce-new races who will worship me!\n\n\"Evil cannot create,\" Astinus remarked, \" it can only destroy. It turns in upon itself, gnawing itself. Already, you feel it eating away at you. Already, you can feel your soul shrivel. Look into Paladine's face, Raistlin. Look into it as you looked into it once, back on the Plains of Dergoth, when you lay dying of the dwarf's sword wound and Lady Crysania laid healing hands upon you. You saw the grief and sorrow of the god then as you see it now, Raistlin. And you knew then, as you know now but refuse to admit, that Paladine grieves, not for himself, but for you.\n\n\"Easy will it be for us to slip back into our dreamless sleep. For you, Raistlin, there will be no sleep. Only an endless waking, endless listening for sounds that will never come, endless staring into avoid that holds neither light nor darkness, endless shrieking words that no one will hear, no one will answer, endless plotting and scheming that will bear no fruit as you turn round and round upon yourself. Finally, in your madness and desperation, you will grab the tail of your existence and, like a starving snake, devour yourself whole in an effort to find food for your soul." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"But you will find nothing but emptiness." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And you will continue to exist forever within this emptiness-a tiny spot of nothing, sucking in everything around itself to feed your endless hunger....\"\n\nThe Portal shimmered. Astinus quickly looked up from his writing, feeling the will behind those golden eyes waver. Staring past the mirrorlike surface, looking deep into their depths, he saw-for the space of a heartbeat-the very torment and torture he had described. He saw a soul, frightened, alone, caught in its own trap, seeking escape. For the first time in his existence, compassion touched Astinus. His hand marking his place in his book, he half-rose from his seat, his other hand reaching into the Portal....\n\nThen, laughter... eerie, mocking, bitter laughter-laughter not at him, but at the one who laughed.\n\nThe black-robed figure within the Portal was gone.\n\nWith a sigh, Astinus resumed his seat and, almost at the same instant, magical lightning flickered inside the Portal. It was answered by flaring, white light-the final meeting of Paladine and the young man who had defeated the Queen of Darkness and taken her place.\n\nLighting flickered outside, too, stabbing the eyes of the two men watching with blinding brilliance. Thunder crashed, the stones of the Tower trembled, the foundations of the Tower shook. Wind howled, its wail drowning out Par-Salian's moaning.\n\nLifting a drawn, haggard face, the ancient wizard twisted his head to stare out the windows with an expression of horror. \"This is the end,\" he murmured, his gnarled, wasted hands plucking feebly at the air. \"The end of all things.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Astinus, frowning in annoyance as a sudden lurching of the Tower caused him to make an error. He gripped his book more firmly, his eyes on the Portal, writing, recording the last battle as it occurred." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Within a matter of moments, all was over. The white light flickered briefly, beautifully, for one instant. Then it died.\n\nWithin the Portal, all was darkness.\n\nPar-Salian wept. His tears fell down upon the stone floor and, at their touch, the Tower shook like a living thing, as if it, too, foresaw its doom and was quaking in horror.\n\nIgnoring the falling stones and the heaving of the rocks, Astinus coolly penned the final words.\n\nAs of Fourthday, Fifthmonth, Year 358, the world ends.\n\nThen, with a sigh, Astinus started to close the book.\n\nA hand slammed down across the pages.\n\n\"No,\" said a firm voice, \"it will not end here.\"\n\nAstinus's hands trembled, his pen dropped a blot of ink upon the paper, obliterating the last words.\n\n\"Caramon... Caramon Majere!\" Par-Salian cried, pitifully reaching out to the man with feeble hands. \"It was you I heard in the Forest!\"\n\n\"Did you doubt me?\" Caramon growled. Though shocked and horrified by the sight of the wretched wizard and his torment, Caramon found it difficult to feel any compassion for the archmage. Looking at Par-Salian, seeing his lower half turned to marble, Caramon recalled all too clearly his twin's torment in the Tower, his own torment upon being sent back to Istar with Crysania.\n\n\"No, not doubted you!\" Par-Salian wrung his hands. \"I doubted my own sanity! Can't you understand? How can you be here? How could you have survived the magical battles that destroyed the world?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"He didn't,\" Astinus said sternly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Having regained his composure, he placed the open book down on the floor at his feet and stood up. Glowering at Caramon, he pointed an accusing finger. \"What trick is this? You died! What is the meaning-\"\n\nWithout speaking a word, Caramon dragged Tasslehoff out from behind him. Deeply impressed by the solemnity and seriousness of the occasion, Tas huddled next to Caramon, his wide eyes fixed upon Par-Salian with a pleading gaze.\n\n\"Do-do you want me to explain, Caramon?\" Tas asked in a small, polite voice, barely audible over the thunder. \"I-I really feel like I should tell why I disrupted the time-travel spell, and then there's how Raistlin gave me the wrong instructions and made me break the magical device, even though part of that was my fault, I suppose, and how I ended up in the Abyss where I met poor Gnimsh.\" Tas's eyes filled with tears. \"And how Raistlin killed him-\"\n\n\"All this is known tome,\" Astinus interrupted. \"So you were able to come here because of the kender. Our time is short. What is it you intend, Caramon Majere?\"\n\nThe big man turned his gaze to Par-Salian. \"I bear you no love, wizard. In that, I am atone with my twin. Perhaps you had your reasons for what you did tome and to Lady Crysania back therein Istar. If so\"-Caramon raised a hand to stop Par-Salian who, it seems, would have spoken-\" if so, then you are the one who lives with them, not me. For now, know that I have it in my power to alter time. As Raistlin himself told me, because of the kender, we can change what has happened." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have the magical device. I can travel back to any point in time. Tell me when, tell me what happened that led to this destruction, and I will undertake to prevent it, if I can.\"\n\nCaramon's gaze went from Par-Salian to Astinus. The historian shook his head. \"Do not look tome, Caramon Majere. I am neutral in this as in all things. I can give you no help. I can only give you this warning: You may go back, but you may find you change nothing. A pebble in a swiftly flowing river, that is all you maybe.\"\n\nCaramon nodded. \"If that is all, then at least I will die knowing that I tried to makeup for my failure.\"\n\nAstinus regarded Caramon with a keen, penetrating glance. \"What failure is that you speak of, Warrior? You risked your life going back after your brother. You did your best, you endeavored to convince him that this path of darkness he walked would lead only to his own doom.\" Astinus gestured toward the Portal. \"You heard me speak to him? You know what he faces?\"\n\nWordlessly, Caramon nodded again, his face pale and anguished.\n\n\"Then tell me,\" Astinus said coolly.\n\nThe Tower shuddered. Wind battered the walls, lightning turned the waning night of the world into a garish, blinding day. The small, bare tower room in which they stood shook and trembled. Though they were alone within it, Caramon thought he could hear sounds of weeping, and he slowly came to realize it was the stones of the Tower itself. He glanced about uneasily.\n\n\"You have time,\" Astinus said. Sitting back down on his stool, he picked up the book. But he did not close it. \"Not long, perhaps, but time, still. Wherein did you fail?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Caramon drew a shaking breath." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then his brows came together. Scowling in anger, his gaze went to Par-Salian. \"A trick, wasn't it, wizard? A trick to get me to do what you mages could not-stop Raistlin in his dreadful ambition. But you failed. You sent Crysania back to die because you feared her. But her will, her love was stronger than you supposed. She lived and, blinded by her love and her own ambition, she followed Raistlin into the Abyss.\" Caramon glowered. \"I don't understand Paladine's purpose in granting her prayers, in giving her the power to go there-\"\n\n\"It is not for you to understand the ways of the gods, Caramon Majere,\" Astinus interrupted coldly. \"Who are you to judge them? It maybe that they fail, too, sometimes. Or that they choose to risk the best they have in hopes that it will be still better.\"\n\n\"Be that as it may,\" Caramon continued, his face dark and troubled, \"the mages sent Crysania back and thereby gave my brother one of the keys he needed to enter the Portal. They failed. The gods failed. And I failed.\" Caramon ran a trembling hand through his hair.\n\n\"I thought I could convince Raistlin with words to turn back from this deadly path he walked. I should have known better\" The big man laughed bitterly. \"What poor words of mine ever affected him? When he stood before the Portal, preparing to enter the Abyss, telling me what he intended, I left him. It was all so easy. I simply turned my back and walked away.\"\n\n\"Bah!\" Astinus snorted. \"What would you have done? He was strong then, more powerful than any of us can begin to imagine. He held the magical field together by his force of will and his strength alone. You could not have killed him-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No,\" said Caramon, his gaze shifting away from those in the room, staring out into the storm that raged evermore fiercely, \"but I could have followed him-followed him into darkness-even if it meant my death. To show him that I was willing to sacrifice for love what he was willing to sacrifice for his magic and his ambition.\" Caramon turned his gaze upon those in the room. \"Then he would have respected me. Then he might have listened. And so I will go back. I will enter the Abyss\"-he ignored Tasslehoff's cry of horror-\"and there I will do what must be done.\"\n\n\"What must be done,\" Par-Salian repeated feverishly. \"You do not realize what that means! Dalamar-\"\n\nA blazing, blinding bolt of lightning exploded within the room, slamming those within back against the stonewalls. No one could see or hear anything as the thunder crashed over them. Then above the blast of thunder rose a tortured cry.\n\nShaken by that strangled, pain-filled scream, Caramon opened his eyes, only to wish they had been shut forever before seeing such a grisly sight.\n\nPar-Salian had turned from a pillar of marble to a pillar of flame! Caught in Raistlin's spell, the wizard was helpless. He could do nothing but scream as the flames slowly crept up his immobile body.\n\nUnnerved, Tasslehoff covered his face with his hands and cowered, whimpering, in a corner. Astinus rose from where he had been hurled to the floor, his hands going immediately to the book he still held. He started to write, but his hand fell limp, the pen slipped from his fingers. Once more, he began to close the cover...\n\n\"No!\" Caramon cried. Reaching out, he laid his hands upon the pages." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Astinus looked at him, and Caramon faltered beneath the gaze of those deathless eyes. His hands shook, but they remained pressed firmly across the white parchment of the leather-bound volume. The dying wizard wailed in dreadful agony.\n\nAstinus released the open book.\n\n\"Hold this,\" Caramon ordered, closing the precious volume and thrusting it into Tasslehoff's hands. Nodding numbly, the kender wrapped his arms around the book, which was almost as big as he was, and remained, crouched in his corner, staring around him in horror as Caramon lurched across the room toward the dying wizard.\n\n\"No!\" shrieked Par-Salian. \"Do not come near me!\" His white, flowing hair and long beard crackled, his skin bubbled and sizzled, the terrible cloying stench of burning flesh mingling with the smell of sulfur.\n\n\"Tell me!\" cried Caramon, raising his arm against the heat, getting as near the mage as he could. \"Tell me, Par-Salian! What must I do? How can I prevent this?\"\n\nThe wizard's eyes were melting. His mouth was a gaping hole in the black formless mass that was his face. But his dying words struck Caramon like another bolt of lightning, to be burned into his mind forever.\n\n\"Raistlin must not be allowed to leave the Abyss!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lord Soth sat upon the crumbling, fire-blackened throne in the blasted, desolate ruins of Dargaard Keep. His orange eyes flamed in their unseen sockets, the only visible sign of the cursed life that burned within the charred armor of a Knight of Solamnia.\n\nSoth sat alone.\n\nThe death knight had dismissed his attendants-former knights, like himself, who had remained loyal to him in life and so were cursed to remain loyal to him in death. He had also sent away the banshees, the elven women who had played a role in his downfall and who were now doomed to spend their lives in his service. For hundreds of years, ever since that terrible night of his death, Lord Soth had commanded these unfortunate women to relive that doom with him. Every night, as he sat upon his ruined throne, he forced them to serenade him with a song that related the story of his disgrace and their own.\n\nThat song brought bitter pain to Soth, but he welcomed the pain. It was ten times better than the nothingness that pervaded his unholy life-in-death at all other times. But tonight he did not listen to the song. He listened, instead, to his story as it whispered like the bitter night wind through the eaves of the crumbling keep.\n\n\"Once, long ago, I was a Lord Knight of Solamnia. I was everything then-handsome, charming, brave, married to a woman of fortune, if not of beauty. My knights were devoted tome. Yes, men envied me-Lord Soth of Dargaard Keep.\n\n\"The spring before the Cataclysm, I left Dargaard Keep and rode to Palanthas with my retinue. A Knights' Council was being held, my presence was required. I cared little for the Council meeting-it would dragon with endless arguments over insignificant rules. But there would be drinking, good fellowship, tales of battle and adventure. That was why I went." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We rode slowly, taking our time, our days filled with song and jesting. At night we'd stay in inns when we could, sleep beneath the stars when we could not. The weather was fine, it was a mild spring. The sunshine was warm upon us, the evening breeze cooled us. I was thirty-two years old that spring. Everything was going well with my life. I do not recall ever being happier.\n\n\"And then, one night-curse the silver moon that shone upon it-we were camped in the wilderness. A cry cut through the darkness, rousing us from our slumbers. It was a woman's cry, then we heard many women's voices, mingled with the harsh shouts of ogres.\n\n\"Grabbing our weapons, we rushed to battle. It was an easy victory; only a roving band of robbers. Most fled at our approach, but the leader, either more daring or more drunken than the rest, refused to be deprived of his spoils. Personally, I didn't blame him. He'd captured a lovely young elfmaiden. Her beauty in the moonlight was radiant, her fear only enhanced her fragile loveliness. Alone, I challenged him. We fought, and I was the victor. And it was my reward-ah, what bitter-sweet reward-to carry the fainting elfmaid in my arms back to her companions.\n\n\"I can still see her fine, golden hair shining in the moonlight. I can see her eyes when she wakened, looking into mine, and I can see even now-as I saw then-her love for me dawn in them. And she saw-in my eyes-the admiration I could not hide. Thoughts of my wife, of my honor, of my castle-everything fled as I gazed upon her beautiful face.\n\n\"She thanked me; how shyly she spoke. I returned her to the elven women-a group of clerics they were, traveling to Palanthas and thence to Istar on a pilgrimage. She was just an acolyte. It was on this journey that she was to be made a Revered Daughter of Paladine. I left her and the women, returning with my men to my camp. I tried to sleep, but I could still feel that lithe, young body in my arms. Never had I been so consumed with passion fora woman." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"When I did sleep, my dreams were sweet torture. When I awoke, the thought that we must part was like a knife in my heart. Rising early, I returned to the elven camp. Making up a tale of roving bands of goblins between here and Palanthas, I easily convinced the elven women that they needed my protection. My men were not averse to such pleasant companions, and so we traveled with them. But this did not ease my pain. Rather, it intensified it. Day after day I watched her, riding near me-but not near enough. Night after night I slept alone-my thoughts in turmoil.\n\n\"I wanted her, wanted her more than anything I had ever wanted in this world. And yet, I was a Knight, sworn by the strictest vows to uphold the Code and the Measure, sworn by holy vows to remain true to my wife, sworn by the vows of a commander to lead my men to honor. Long I fought with myself and, at last, I believed I had conquered. Tomorrow, I will leave, I said, feeling peace steal over me.\n\n\"I truly intended to leave, and I would have. But, curse the fates, I went upon a hunting expedition in the woods and there, far from camp, I met her. She had been sent to gather herbs.\n\n\"She was alone. I was alone. Our companions were faraway. The love that I had seen in her eyes shone there still. She had loosened her hair, it fell to her feet in a golden cloud. My honor, my resolve, were destroyed in an instant, burned up by the flame of desire that swept over me. She was easy to seduce, poor thing. One kiss, then another. Then drawing her down beside me on the new grass, my hands caressing, my mouth stopping her protests, and... after I had made her mine... kissing away her tears." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That night, she came tome again, in my tent. I was lost in bliss. I promised her marriage, of course. What else could I do? At first, I didn't mean it. How could I? I had a wife, a wealthy wife. I needed her money. My expenses were high. But then one night, when I held the elf maid in my arms, I knew I could never give her up. I made arrangements to have my wife permanently removed....\n\n\"We continued our journey. By this time, the elven women had begun to suspect. How not? It was hard for us to hide our secret smiles during the day, difficult to avoid every opportunity to be together.\n\n\"We were, of necessity, separated when we reached Palanthas. The elven women went to stay in one of the fine houses that the Kingpriest used when he visited the city. My men and I went to our lodgings. I was confident, however, that she would find away to come tome since I could not go to her. The first night passed, I was not much worried. But then a second and a third, and no word.\n\n\"Finally, a knock on my door. But it was not her. It was the head of the Knights of Solamnia, accompanied by the heads of each of the three Orders of Knights. I knew then, when I saw them, what must have happened. She had discovered the truth and betrayed me.\n\n\"As it was, it was not she who betrayed me, but the elven women. My lover had fallen ill and, when they came to treat her, they discovered that she was carrying my child. She had told no one, not even me. They told her I was married and, worse still, word arrived in Palanthas at the same time that my wife had \"mysteriously\" disappeared." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I was arrested." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dragged through the streets of Palanthas in public humiliation, I was the object of the vulgars' crude jokes and vile names. They enjoyed nothing more than seeing a Knight fall to their level. I swore that, someday, I would have my revenge upon them and their fine city. But that seemed hopeless. My trial was swift. I was sentenced to die-a traitor to the Knighthood. Stripped of my lands and my title, I would be executed by having my throat slit with my own sword. I accepted my death. I even looked forward to it, thinking still that she had cast me off.\n\n\"But, the night before I was to die, my loyal men freed me from my prison. She was with them. She told me everything, she told me she carried my child.\n\n\"The elven women had forgiven her, she said, and, though she could never now become a Revered Daughter of Paladine, she might still live among her people-though her disgrace would follow her to the end of her days. But she could not bear the thought of leaving without telling me good-bye. She loved me, that much was plain. But I could tell that the tales she had heard worried her.\n\n\"I made up some lie about my wife that she believed. She would have believed dark was light if I'd told her. Her mind at ease, she agreed to runaway with me. I know now that this was why she had come in the first place. My men accompanying us, we fled back to Dargaard Keep.\n\n\"It was a difficult journey, pursued constantly by the other Knights, but we arrived, finally, and entrenched ourselves within the castle. It was an easy position to defend-perched as it was high upon sheer cliffs. We had large stores of provisions and we could easily holdout during the winter that was fast approaching." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I should have been pleased with myself, with life, with my new bride-what a mockery that marriage ceremony was!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But I was tormented by guilt and, what was worse, the loss of my honor. I realized that I had escaped one prison only to find myself in another-another of my own choosing. I had escaped death only to live a dark and wretched life. I grew moody, morose. I was always quick to anger, quick to strike, and now it was worse. The servants fled, after I'd beaten several. My men took to avoiding me. And then, one night, I struck her-her, the only person in this world who could give me even a shred of comfort.\n\n\"Looking into her tear-filled eyes, I saw the monster I had become. Taking her in my arms, I begged forgiveness. Her lovely hair fell around me. I could feel my child kicking in her womb. Kneeling there, together, we prayed to Paladine. I would do anything, I told the god, to restore my honor. I asked only that my son or daughter never grow up to know my shame.\n\n\"And Paladine answered. He told me of the Kingpriest, and what arrogant demands the foolish man planned to make of the gods. He told me that the world itself would feel the anger of the gods unless-as Huma had done before me-one man was willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of the innocent.\n\n\"Paladine's light shone around me. My tormented soul was filled with peace. What small sacrifice it seemed tome to give my life so that my child should be raised in honor and the world could be saved. I rode to Istar, fully intent upon stopping the Kingpriest, knowing that Paladine was with me.\n\n\"But another rode beside me, too, on that journey-the Queen of Darkness. So does she wage constant war for the souls she delights in holding in thrall. What did she use to defeat me? Those very same elven women-clerics of the god whose mission I rode upon." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Extend the plot as the writer's co-author.\nTags: fantasy, dragonlance, twins\nAuthor: Margaret Weis, Tracy Hickman\nTitle: Test of the Twins\nChapter: 41" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But Tika was not thinking about gods or mornings or the dew that was cold upon her bare feet. Clutching the skillet in one hand, keeping it hidden behind her back, she stealthily climbed the rungs of the ladder leading up into the unfinished house perched among the strong branches of the vallenwood. Near the top she stopped, peeping over the edge.\n\nAh, ha! There was someone up here! She could just barely make out a figure crouched in a shadowy corner. Hauling herself up over the edge, still making no sound, Tika padded softly across the wooden floor, her fingers getting a firm grip on the skillet.\n\nBut as she crossed the floor, creeping upon the intruder, she thought she heard a muffled giggle.\n\nShe hesitated, then continued on resolutely. Just my imagination, she told herself, moving closer to the cloaked figure. She could see him clearly now. It was a man, a human, and by the looks of the brawny arms and the muscular shoulders, it was one of the biggest men Tika had ever seen! He was down on his hands and knees, his broad back was turned toward her, she saw him raise his hand.\n\nHe was holding Caramon's hammer!\n\nHow dare he touch Caramon's things! Well, big manor no-they're all the same size once they're laid out on the floor.\n\nTika raised the skillet-\n\n\"Caramon! Lookout!\" cried a shrill voice.\n\nThe big man rose to his feet and turned around.\n\nThe skillet fell to the floor with a ringing clatter. So did a hammer and a handful of nails.\n\nWith a thankful sob, Tika clasped her husband in her arms." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Isn't this wonderful, Tika? I bet you were surprised, weren't you! Were you surprised, Tika? And say-would you really have wanged Caramon over the head if I hadn't stopped you? That might have been kind of interesting to watch, though I don't think it would have done Caramon much good. Hey, do you remember when you hit that draconian over the head with the skillet-the one that was getting ready to rough up Gilthanas? Tika?... Caramon?\"\n\nTas looked at his two friends. They weren't saying a word. They weren't hearing a word. They just stood there, holding each other. The kender felt a suspicious moisture creep into his eyes.\n\n\"Well,\" he said with a gulp and a smile, \"I'll just go down and wait for you in the living room.\"\n\nSlithering down the ladder, Tas entered the small, neat house that stood below the sheltering vallenwood. Once inside, he took out a handkerchief, blew his nose, then began to cheerfully investigate the furnishings.\n\n\"From the looks of things,\" he said to himself, admiring a brand-new cookie jar so much that he absent-mindedly stuffed it into a pouch (cookies included), all the while being firmly convinced that he'd set it back on the shelf, \"Tika and Caramon are going to be up there quite awhile, maybe even the rest of the morning. Perhaps this would be a good time to sort all my stuff.\"\n\nSitting down cross-legged on the floor, the kender blissfully upended his pouches, spilling their contents out onto the rug. Ashe absent-mindedly munched on a few cookies, Tas's proud gaze went first to a whole sheaf of new maps Tanis had given him. Unrolling them, one after another, his small finger traced a route to all the wonderful places he'd visited in his many adventures." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"It was nice traveling,\" he said after awhile, \"but it's certainly nicer coming home." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I'll just stay herewith Tika and Caramon. We'll be a family. Caramon said I could have a room in the new house and-Why, what's that?\" He looked closely at the map. \" Merilon? I never heard of a city named Merilon. I wonder what it's like....\n\n\"No!\" Tas retorted. \"You are through adventuring, Burrfoot. You've got quite enough stories to tell Flint as it is. You're going to settle down and become a respectable member of society. Maybe even become High Sheriff.\"\n\nRolling up the map (fond dreams in his head of running for High Sheriff), he placed it back in its case (not without a wistful glance). Then, turning his back upon it, he began to look through his treasures.\n\n\"A white chicken feather, an emerald, a dead rat-yick, where did I get that? A ring carved to look like ivy leaves, a tiny golden dragon-that's funny, I certainly don't remember putting that in my pouch. Apiece of broken blue crystal, a dragon's tooth, white rose petals, some kid's old worn-out, plush rabbit, and-oh, look. Here's Gnimsh's plans for the mechanical lift and-what's this? A book! Sleight-of-Hand Techniques to Amaze and Delight! Now isn't that interesting? I'm sure this will really come in handy and, oh, no\"-Tas frowned irritably-\"there's that silver bracelet of Tanis's again. I wonder how he manages to hang onto anything without me around, constantly picking up after him? He's extremely careless. I'm surprised Laurana puts up with it.\"\n\nHe peered into the pouch. \"That's all, I guess.\" He sighed. \" Well, it certainly has been interesting. Mostly-it was truly wonderful. I met several dragons. I flew in a citadel. I turned myself into a mouse. I broke a dragon orb. Paladine and I became close, personal friends." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There were some sad times,\" he said to himself softly. \"But they aren't even sad tome now. They just give me a little funny ache, right here.\" He pressed his hand on his heart. \"I'm going to miss adventuring very much. But there's no one to adventure with anymore. They've all settled down, their lives are bright and pleasant.\" His small hand explored the smooth bottom of one final pouch. \" It's time for me to settle down, too, like I said, and I think High Sheriff would be a most fascinating job and-\n\n\"Wait.... what's that? In the very bottom....\" He pulled out a small object, almost lost, tucked into a corner of the pouch. Holding it in his hand, staring at it in wonder, Tas drew in a deep, quivering breath.\n\n\"How did Caramon lose this? He was so very careful of it. But then, he's had a lot on his mind lately. I'll just go give it back to him. He's probably fearfully worried over misplacing it. After all, what would Par-Salian say....\"\n\nStudying the plain, nondescript pendant in his palm, Tas never noticed that his other hand-apparently acting of its own accord since he had quit adventuring-skittered around behind him and closed over the map case.\n\n\"What was the name of that place? Merilon?\"\n\nIt must have been the hand that spoke. Certainly not Tas, who had given up adventuring.\n\nThe map case went into a pouch, along with all of Tas's other treasures; the hand scooping them up hastily and stowing them away.\n\nThe hand also gathered up all of Tas's pouches, slinging them over his shoulders, hanging them from his belt, stuffing one into the pocket of his brand-new bright red leggings." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The hand busily began to change the plain, nondescript pendant into a sceptre that was really quite beautiful-all covered with jewels-and looked very magical.\n\n\"Once you're finished,\" Tas told his hand severely, \"we'll take it right upstairs and give it to Caramon-\"\n\n\"Where's Tas?\" Tika murmured from the warmth and comfort of Caramon's strong arms.\n\nCaramon, resting his cheek against her head, kissed her red curls and held her tighter. \"I don't know. Went down to the house, I think.\"\n\n\"You realize,\" said Tika, snuggling closer, \"that we won't have a spoon left.\"\n\nCaramon smiled. Putting his hand on her chin, he raised her head and kissed her lips....\n\nAn hour later, the two were walking around the floor of the unfinished house, Caramon pointing out the improvements and changes he planned to make. \"The baby's room will go here,\" he said, \"next to our bedroom, and this will be the room for the older kids. No, I guess two rooms, one for the boys and one for the girls.\" He pretended to ignore Tika's blush. \"And the kitchen and Tas's room and the guestroom-Tanis and Laurana are coming to visit-and....\" Caramon's voice died.\n\nHe had come to the one room in the house he had actually finished-the room with the wizard's mark carved on a plaque which hung above the door.\n\nTika looked at him, her laughing face suddenly grown pale and serious.\n\nReaching up, Caramon slowly took down the plaque. He looked at it silently for long moments, then, with a smile, he handed it to Tika.\n\n\"Keep this for me, will you, my dear?\" he asked softly and gently." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She looked up at him in wonder, her trembling fingers going over the smooth edges of the plaque, tracing out the arcane symbol inscribed upon it.\n\n\"Will you tell me what happened, Caramon?\" she asked.\n\n\"Someday,\" he said, gathering her into his arms, holding her close. \"Someday,\" he repeated. Then, kissing the red curls, he stood, looking out over the town, watching it waken and come to life.\n\nThrough the sheltering leaves of the vallenwood, he could seethe gabled roof of the Inn. He could hear voices now, sleepy voices, laughing, scolding. He could smell the smoke of cooking fires as it rose into the air, filling the green valley with a soft haze.\n\nHe held his wife in his arms, feeling her love surround him, seeing his love for her shining before him always, shining pure and white like the light from Solinari... or the light shining from the crystal atop a magical staff....\n\nCaramon sighed, deeply, contentedly. \"It doesn't matter anyway,\" he murmured.\n\n\"I'm home.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But you and I, through burning plains, through darkness of the earth, affirm the world, its people, the heavens that gave them birth, the breath that passes between us, this new home where we stand, and all those things made larger by the vows between woman and man." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "In your capacity as the author's assistant, extend the narrative.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, amnesia\nAuthor: Terry Goodkind\nTitle: Chainfire\nChapter: 27" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All around her weapons were already being lifted. Powerful muscles drew bowstrings to cheeks. Arms with spears cocked back, the iron tips all pointing at her along with swords, axes, and pikes.\n\nWithout pause Nicci unleased a blast of opposing magic twined together in a shattering ignition that in ruinous fury leveled the officers' tents and blasted through the men on the knoll. The devastating concussion radiated outward in a circle at breathtaking speed, stripping flesh from bone. The ground was made muddy by the sudden deluge of blood.\n\nThe heat that had been focused into the blast was so intense that nearby trees erupted inflame. The clothes of men in the surrounding camp who had been rushing to meet the threat also caught fire. The flesh of those a little closer ignited. Men closer yet were ripped apart by the thunderous discharge of Nicci's power. The force of what she had unleashed dissipated with distance and men farther away were only sent sprawling.\n\nSuch an extreme effort was risky because it was so draining, but it had the desired effect. In an instant the situation had changed from arrogant brutes gloating over a captive woman to confusion and panic.\n\nFearing to lose the initiative, she focused intense heat into the trunks of trees along the creek bank behind the men. It was a method of getting a large return fora small investment of power. Superheated sap instantly boiled into steam and the massive cottonwood trunks exploded in thunderous blasts, sending heavy sections of splintered wood spiraling though the crowds of men, cutting them down by the dozens.\n\nNicci swiftly conjured a liquid fire and sent the inferno spilling out across the field and into the confusion, igniting men, horses, and equipment in the terrible fury of roaring flames. The screams of man and beast melted together into one, long, terrible cry. The air smelled of oily smoke as well as burning hair and flesh." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At last, men were no longer charging in at her. In the brief break, Nicci struggled to getup from the blood-soaked ground. She stumbled through the carnage. Sa'din raced forward through the thick haze and nudged her with his head, helping her to find her balance. She threw an arm over his neck, relieved that she had succeeded in directing her power around him and that he was all right.\n\nShe finally seized the reins and, grunting with effort, managed to pull herself upon the horse before men could spear him, or slash her, or send arrows at them. She spun Sa'din around, all the time casting boiling gouts of fire out among the men as they again began rushing in at her. As they caught on fire, they stumbled blindly, shrieking, flailing, crashing into other men or into tents, spreading the deadly conflagration.\n\nA man on one of the big warhorses suddenly galloped out of the smoke. The soldier raised his sword as he screamed a battle cry. Before Nicci could do anything, Sa'din bellowed in rage and snapped, ripping the war-horse's ear off. The wounded horse screamed in terror and pain as it spun and bucked. The soldier was sent flying into the burning bodies.\n\nNicci directed a web of power at men rushing in at her, each in turn-just for an instant, but long enough to stop their hearts. They stumbled, clutching their chests. Ina way, it was more frightening for men to see their comrades gasp and drop from a mysterious cause than it was to see them rent by violence. From Nicci's point of view it was just as effective and it didn't take as much of her strength; even though it required specific targeting, stopping a heart was easier than conjuring flames or lightning. With so many men all around her and all rushing in at her, she knew she was going to need all her strength if she hoped to get out of the camp alive." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "While the men in the immediate area knew what was happening, as of yet those in the outlying areas of the camp weren't fully aware of what was specifically going on, although they now knew they were under some sort of attack. Being well trained, they all rallied.\n\nFrom all directions, arrows zipped through the air. Spears began flying past. An arrow flicked through Nicci's hair. Another clipped her shoulder just enough to cut her. Nicci drummed her heels against Sa'din's ribs and lay forward over his whithers. She was astonished at the power with which the horse leaped away. He fearlessly galloped right through men rushing in at them. The stallion's hooves made a sickening sound as they struck bone. Men tumbled away. Sa'din jumped over tents and fires. The air was alive with terrible screams. As she raced through the camp Nicci took every opportunity to inflict yet more death and destruction.\n\nBut from behind her, a swelling, angry roar began to lift from thousands upon thousands of men all the way across the valley. The power of it, the ferocity, was frightening.\n\nNicci vividly recalled Richard's warning that all it would take was one lucky arrow. Now there were thousands. Nicci diverted her power from attacking to shielding her and her horse.\n\nAs Sa'din carried her back through the men, horses, wagons, and tents, Nicci let goof her defenses and again focused a scythe of her gift to slice through anything living that was close enough. The intensely concentrated and compacted edge of air sliced through men as they ran into intercept her. As her horse leaped some obstacles and dodged others, that deadly edge of her power cut some men off at the knees and decapitated others. Horses screamed as their legs were cleaved from under them and they crashed to the ground. Shrieks of horror and pain from wounded men followed in her wake. But there were growing cries of rage." }, { "from": "human", "value": "As she charged through the camp, Nicci could see men all around swiftly saddling their horses and mounting up." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Spears and lances were snatched from those stacked everywhere throughout the encampment. Nicci wished she could destroy the weapons, but she had to concentrate just to hold onto Sa'din as he bounded over anything in his way, including an occasional wagon. The horse seemed possessed to get her out of the danger as swiftly as possible. Even so, men in gathering numbers were taking up the chase, whether on horse or foot.\n\nAs she cleared the last of the tents, Nicci looked back over her shoulder. The place was in an uproar. Flames still shot skyward. Billowing clouds of oily black smoke rose in several places. She didn't have any idea how many men she had killed, but there were thousands of them coming after her. The pounding she was taking atop a galloping horse was making her back hurt something fierce.\n\nAt least she had eliminated Kronos. They had tried to trick her, but in the end it had cost them a second wizard that she hadn't even known they had with them and would have been terrible trouble for the defenders back at Altur'Rang. It had turned out to be a bit of good fortune.\n\nAs long as they didn't have three wizards." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As Nicci crested a hill, the first glimpse of the vast city in the distance was a beautiful sight. A quick glance over her shoulder revealed the thundering cavalry right on her heels. Nicci was able to seethe raised swords, axes, spears, and lances glinting in the light of the setting sun like steel quills of an immense porcupine. The cloud of dust boiling up behind them blotted out the darkening eastern sky. The bloodthirsty battle cries were terrifying.\n\nAnd that was only the cavalry. She knew that farther back came the tide of foot soldiers.\n\nEven if the sun wouldn't have been in her eyes, Nicci didn't think that she could have spotted anyone in the city. That was as it should be. She wanted people, for the most part, to stay hidden. Even so, it was not reassuring to feel all alone with an angry hornets' nest chasing her.\n\nShe had told Victor and Ishaq the route she would try to take when returning so that they could concentrate their defenses to the best advantage. She hoped they were ready. There hadn't been a great deal of time to prepare. They would get no more, though; time was up.\n\nWith the city looming closer, Nicci at last spared the effort to snake her right arm through the sleeve of her dress, then reached back and threaded her left arm through the other sleeve. Holding the reins in one hand, leaning forward over the galloping horse's withers, she at last managed to blindly button her dress backup. She smiled at the small victory.\n\nThe first small buildings flashed by. Although there had been a cutoff from the main road that would have more quickly gotten her into the confines of the city, Nicci had kept to the main road down out of the hills. Entering Altur'Rang, the road turned into abroad boulevard, the main east-west thoroughfare. As the buildings grew closer together, they also rose up higher. In places along the road trees lined the way. She could see fastened on the bark of those trees the split-open, empty skins of cicadas that had molted. It gave Nicci a fleeting memory of lying in the shelter, in the warmth of Richard's arm." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sa'din was sweating into a lather and she knew that he had to be tiring, but he didn't show any sign of wanting to slow. She had to urge him to ease up just a little anyway so that the cavalry would get closer to her. She wanted them to believe they were catching her. Once a predator chasing prey was closing in they tended to lose sight of everything else. The instinct to chase was as strong in soldiers as it was in wolves. Nicci wanted them to throw caution to the winds as they ran her down, so she leaned a little to the side, making it look as if she might be wounded and ready to fall.\n\nRunning down the center of the road, trailing a ribbon of dust, she began to recognize groups of buildings. She remembered patterns of windows. She saw a butter-colored clapboard building to the left and red shutters to the right that she recognized. In the shadows down an alleyway just beyond a row of closely packed buildings that she knew were homes because of the laundry hanging on lines between them, she spotted some of the men hiding. They all had bows. She knew she wasn't far.\n\nShe suddenly came upon the three story brick building. In the late light she almost didn't recognize it. The spikes lying across the road were covered with a thin layer of dirt to hide them from the soldiers. As she galloped past, she spotted men hiding just around the corner, ready to pull up the spikes once she was by.\n\n\"Wait until most are past!\" she called out to the waiting men just loud enough for them to hear but not so loud that those following could hear.\n\nShe saw one of them nod to her. She hoped they understood. If the spikes were pulled up at the head of the cavalry, bottlenecking them all, then only those in the lead would betaken out and most of those in the rear would escape injury and regroup. If that happened then they would have lost their chance to breakup the cavalry. Nicci needed the defenders manning the spikes to allow most to get past." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nicci looked back over her shoulder to seethe big men with their weapons raised thundering past the brick building. Most cleared the rear of the building, but then, there was a sudden howling boom as charging warhorses crashed headlong into the iron spikes. Horses behind weren't able to stop and violently collided with the animals that had been impaled.\n\nRiders cried out as they were crushed. Other men tumbled over the heads of their horses.\n\nFrom the windows, arrows rained down as soldiers now on foot tried to halt the tail of the cavalry still charging in. Men desperately slowed their mounts. As they did they were hit with arrows. Men and horses were hit with a withering flight of arrows from several directions. Most of the men put an arm up, only to then realize that they had neglected to take the time to get their shields.\n\nAs the last of the riders were still crashing into the sudden blockade, Nicci went right at the fork in the wide road. The cavalry was right on her heels and swept down the street after her.\n\n\"Wait until half are past!\" she yelled at the men hiding around the corner of a tall stonewall as she raced past.\n\nAgain came the hard impacts and terrible noise of animals screaming in pain and terror as they were unexpectedly impaled or torn open. Soldiers cried out as they were violently unhorsed. Men carrying spears rushed out from behind the building, running the soldiers through before they had a chance to get to their feet and fight. Axes, swords, and flails belonging to fallen soldiers were swept up by men to be used against the Order.\n\nSome of the cavalry, fooled a second time, didn't intend to be fooled again and at a full gallop peeled off from the main column, some taking another street to the left. Others turned down a narrow road to the right." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The riders following her had gone hardly any distance at all and had not had a chance to fully consider if they should break off the charge, when Nicci cleared the third barrier of iron spikes as men yanked them up and jammed posts in place. The horses just behind her crashed into the spikes. From immediately behind came the most terrible noise of the immense weight of horseflesh thudding into the lead animals already caught upon the iron spikes and stopped cold in their tracks. A great cry lifted from the cavalrymen as they were ensnared in the violent debacle. Almost at the same time the riders who had taken roads to the right and left suddenly found themselves caught up in the same iron traps. The enemy found themselves in a box canyon of brick andiron, rather than rock.\n\nThe impact of the horses running at full speed clouting into a tangled pile of broken men and animals blocking the main road was ghastly. Flesh pounded against flesh and bones snapped. Horses screamed in pain. So powerful was the force of the impact that it broke the spike wall and blew a hole through the bottleneck of carcasses. Great warhorses, some with their face armor and some without, spilled through the gap, slipping and sliding on the blood and gore of slain comrades and other animals. In the treacherous footing, some of the horses and riders fell. Others pouring through the gap at a full gallop didn't have anywhere else to go and trampled them.\n\nMen bristling with spears rushed out of alleyways to the sides and into the path of the charging cavalry to close the breach in the line. The horses, already in shock from the carnage and terrible destruction of so many of their kind, now faced rank upon rank of men running in at them, yelling battle cries, thrusting spears into their sides. The animals squealed with horrific, desperate screams as they were mercilessly gored. The fallen animals tripped up those still running in an attempt to escape. The evening air sounded as if it were ripping as archers rained down a hail of arrows on cavalrymen struggling to escape the carnage." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nicci doubted that these Imperial Order troops would have deliberately attacked into the city, using the cavalry in such a fashion, if they had not been goaded into it. These kind of horses were not meant for this kind of fighting. They simply couldn't maneuver properly in the close quarters and the cavalrymen couldn't effectively cut down their opposition. To make matters more difficult for them, the defenders had too many places to hide fora cavalry charge to be truly effective. The purpose of the cavalry would have been to swiftly crush any organized resistance out in the open hoping to stop the Order before they reached the city, and then to rundown anyone who tried to escape the city after the troops were sent in. Had the commanders been properly in control of the situation and their men, Nicci doubted they would have allowed such a crazy cavalry charge into the confines of a city. Nicci, of course, had known all that when she went to whack the hornets' nest.\n\nThe folly of a cavalry attack into a city was becoming all too apparent. The killing was as swift as it was brutal. The gruesome sight of so many horses and men torn open seemed somehow unreal. The stench of blood was gagging.\n\nWhen she saw a column of the enemy turn down an alleyway to make an escape, Nicci cast her Han outward, using a concentrated spike of force to snap the bones of the lead horse. As the animal's legs folded under it the horses following crashed into it at full speed, breaking their legs as the first horse rolled under them before they were able to leap up out of the way. A few of the horses following behind, seeing what was happening and having more time to react, were able to jump clear. Nicci saw the men at the far end of the narrow alleyway close off their escape route.\n\nNicci cut around the corner to reach the main bottleneck and help prevent any Imperial Order cavalry from escaping the trap. As she rounded the final building, she encountered a knot of cavalry as they broke through the lines of men with spears. Nicci sent a molten ball of flame howling toward the enemy. It cleared the heads of the defenders and hit the street, splashing liquid fire across the horses' flanks. The animals, their hides ablaze, reared up, allowing the flames to roll up onto the men on their backs." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nicci raced around tightly packed buildings to come up behind the tail end of the center trap that had ensnared a large number of the enemy. The men of the city had already set upon them. For once, the cavalrymen were outnumbered, disorganized, and unable to break free of the onslaught. Men fighting for their freedom had a burning determination that the soldiers had not expected to encounter. Their tactics of intimidation and simple slaughter had fallen apart.\n\nIn the fading light of dusk, Nicci spotted Victor swinging a heavy mace at any Imperial Order head he could find. She urged Sa'din through the slaughter.\n\n\"Victor!\"\n\nThe man looked up with a murderous scowl. \"What!\" he cried out over the din of the battle, blood dripping from the steel blades of his weapon.\n\nNicci stepped her horse closer. \"The soldiers are coming right behind the cavalry. They will be the real test. We don't dare let them change their mind about attacking now. Justin case they are having any second thoughts, I'm going to go give them something irresistible to chase into the city.\"\n\nVictor flashed her a grim grin. \"Good. We will be ready for them.\"\n\nOnce the army poured into Altur'Rang, there was noway they would be able to stay together. They would split up to move down different streets. Once they did that, each of those groups could be further divided by the defenders. As each group fled or charged, they would face hidden archers and groups of men with spears, to say nothing of the numerous traps.\n\nAltur'Rang was huge. As darkness took the city, many of the invaders would become disoriented and lost. Because of the narrow warren of streets they wouldn't be able to stay together to present a coordinated attack. They would not be allowed to go where they wished, as they wished, attacking helpless people; they would be relentlessly pursued and harried. Each group would get smaller all the time, both because they would be whittled down while under constant attack, and because some of their men would try other routes to find away to safety. Nicci had made sure that there was no place of safety in the city." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"There is blood all down the front of you.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Victor called up to her. \"Are you all right?\"\n\n\"I got clumsy and fell off my horse. I'm fine. This must end tonight,\" she reminded Victor.\n\n\"Ina hurry to go after Richard?\"\n\nShe smiled but didn't answer his question. \"I'd better go whack the hornets' nest. I will bring them on my heels.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"We're ready.\"\n\nWhen she spotted three soldiers in the distance trying to make an escape without their horses, Nicci paused to cast a shimmering spelldown a narrow twisting street. With three rapid thuds, the lance of power slammed through flesh and bone to drop the three.\n\n\"And Victor,\" she said turning back to the man, \"there's one last thing.\"\n\n\"What would that be?\"\n\n\"No one gets away alive. No one.\"\n\nWith the sounds of battle raging behind him, he appraised her eyes fora moment. \"I understand. Ishaq will be waiting for you; try to get the hornet's nest there as quickly as you can.\"\n\nNicci, checking the reins to hold Sa'din in place, nodded. \"I will bring the soldiers right down-\"\n\nShe turned to the sudden whoosh of flame. Great gouts of fire flared up to the east. She knew that it could mean only one thing.\n\nVictor cursed and climbed up to stand on the carcass of a dead war-horse as he craned his neck, trying to get a view over the rooftops at the thick smoke billowing up into the darkening sky.\n\nHe cast a suspicious scowl at Nicci. \"You failed to get Kronos?\"\n\n\"I got Kronos,\" she growled through gritted teeth, \"and another wizard. It would appear that they have another gifted with them. I guess they came prepared.\" Nicci laid the reins over, turning Sa'din toward the distant sounds of screams. \"But they didn't come prepared for Death's Mistress.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What do you think it could mean?\" Berdine asked.\n\nVerna glanced over at the Mord-Sith's blue eyes. \"Ann didn't say.\"\n\nThe library was dead quiet but for the soft hiss of oil lamps. What with the row upon row of aisles along with the woodwork and shelves of dark walnut, the lamps and candles did little to illuminate the vast inner sanctuary. Had Verna lit all of the reflector lamps lining the walls and hung on the end caps of shelves, the place could have been made to be considerably brighter but, for their purpose, she didn't think it necessary.\n\nIna way, Verna felt that if they were to light too many lamps, pullout too many ancient volumes, disturb the sanctum to a large degree, it might wake the ghosts of all the Master Rahls who haunted the place.\n\nHeavy beams divided the dark, frame and panel woodwork of deep-set ceiling coves. Gilded carvings of vines and leaves meandered up columns to the side that supported those massive timbers. Strange yet beautiful symbols were painted in rich colors across the faces of the beams. Underfoot were spread luxurious carpets woven with elaborate designs in muted colors.\n\nAnd everywhere, around the outer walls in cases behind glassed doors and in freestanding shelves marching through the library in orderly row upon row, were books by the thousands. Their leather bindings, mostly in deep colors with at least some gold or silver leaf on the spines, added a rich, mottled texture to the place. Verna had rarely seen libraries so grand. The vaults at the Palace of the Prophets where she had spent a great deal of time in study had also held thousands of books, but the place had been utilitarian, serving only the function of storing books and providing a practical place to read them. This palace revealed a reverence for the books and the knowledge they contained." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Knowledge was power, and throughout the ages each Lord Rahl in turn had such power at his fingertips. Whether or not he used that knowledge wisely was another question. The only problem with such vast amounts of information would be accessing a specific item, or even knowing that it existed in such an immense collection.\n\nOf course, in times long past there would have been scribes who, besides their work of making copies of important works, attended the libraries and were responsible for specific sections. The master could then easily ask a few relevant questions, narrowing the search to the individual dedicated to the particular area of interest, and be pointed in the right direction. Now, without such specialists tending the libraries, the priceless information contained in the countless volumes was considerably more difficult to retrieve. Ina way, the magnitude of information became a hinderance to its own purpose, and, like a soldier carrying so many weapons he couldn't move, nearly useless.\n\nThe books held in this one library alone represented almost an unimaginable amount of work by countless scholars and a great many prophets. A short stroll through the isles had revealed works hereon history, geography, politics, the natural world, and prophecy that Verna had never seen before. A person could spend a lifetime lost in the place, and yet, Berdine had said that the People's Palace had a number of such libraries, from some that a variety of people were allowed to visit, to some that no one but the Lord Rahl, and, Verna assumed, his most trusted confidants, could enter. This library was one of the latter.\n\nBerdine had said that because she knew High D'Haran, Darken Rahl had sometimes brought her into the most private of the libraries to get her opinion on translations of obscure passages in ancient texts. As a result, Berdine was in a unique position to know at least something about the wealth of potentially hazardous knowledge stored in the palace." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Not all prophecy was equally troublesome, though. A lot of it turned out to be incidental and rather harmless. What most people didn't realize was that a lot of prophetic space was taken up with what amounted to little more than the stuff of gossip.\n\nBut by no means was all prophecy so congenial or frivolous, and wandering through the titillating trivia of everyday lives tended to lull one into complacency and then when you least expected it, dark things came out of the pages to snatch at your soul.\n\nWhile there were volumes that were by and large completely harmless, there were others that were, for anyone but the untrained, unsafe from the first words to the last. This particular library held some of the most dangerous books of prophecy Verna knew of, books that at the Palace of the Prophets were considered so volatile that they were not kept in the main vault, but in smaller, heavily shielded vaults restricted to all but a handful of people at the palace. The presence of those books was probably the reason why this particular library was a very private retreat for Master Rahl alone; Verna seriously doubted that the guards would have allowed her in had a Mord-Sith not been escorting her.\n\nVerna could happily spend a great deal of time in such a cozy place, exploring countless books she had never seen before. Unfortunately, she didn't have the luxury of time. She idly wondered if Richard had ever even seen what was now his as the Lord Rahl.\n\nBerdine tapped a finger to the blank page in The Glendhill Book of Deviation Theory. \"I'm telling you, Prelate, I studied this book with Lord Rahl at the Wizard's Keep in Aydindril.\"\n\n\"So you said.\"\n\nVerna found it interesting, to say the least, that Richard knew of The Glendhill Book of Deviation Theory. She found it even more curious, considering his distaste for prophecy and the fact that this book of prophecies was mostly about him, that he'd studied it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There seemed no end to the curious little things that from time to time Verna discovered about Richard. Part of his dislike for prophecy, she knew, was his aversion to riddles: He hated them. She also knew, though, that in large measure his animus toward prophecy was due to his belief in freewill, his belief that he himself, and not the hand of destiny, made his own life what it was.\n\nWhile enormously complex and with layers of meaning beyond most people's comprehension, prophecy certainly did revolve around core elements of the preordained in its nature, and yet Richard had more than once fulfilled prophecy while at the same time proving it wrong.\n\nVerna sourly suspected that, in a perverse way, prophecy had foretold of Richard's birth just so that he could come into the world to prove the concept of prophecy invalid.\n\nRichard's actions had never been easy to predict, even, or perhaps especially, for prophecy. In the beginning Verna had been baffled by the things he would do and was perpetually unable to predict how he would react to situations or what he might do next. She had come to learn, though, that what she had thought was his confounding switching in a blink from one matter to something completely unrelated was, simply, at its core, his singular consistency.\n\nMost people were notable to remain riveted to a goal with such dedicated determination. They tended to become distracted by a variety of other urgent matters requiring their attention. Richard, as if in a sword fight with a number of opponents at once, prioritized those ancillary events, holding them in abeyance or dispatching them as need be, while always keeping his goal firmly fixed in his mind. It sometimes gave people the false impression that he was skipping from one unrelated thing to another, when in reality he was, to him, innocently dancing across rocks in the river of events around him as he worked his way steadily toward the opposite bank." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At times he was the most wonderful man Verna had ever met. At other times, the most exasperating. She'd long ago lost track of how often she had wanted to strangle him. Besides being the man born to lead them in the final battle, he had by force of his own will become their leader, the Lord Rahl, the linchpin of everything she had struggled for as a Sister of the Light.\n\nJust as prophecy foretold.\n\nBut not at all in the manner it had so carefully laid out.\n\nPerhaps more than anything else he meant to them all, Verna valued Richard as a friend. She ached for him to be happy, the way she had once been happy with Warren. Her time with Warren after they were married and before he had been killed had been the most alive she had ever felt. Since then, she felt like the living dead, alive but not part of life.\n\nVerna hoped that someday, maybe when they finally won the struggle against the Order, that Richard could find someone to love. He loved life so much; he needed someone to share that with.\n\nShe smiled inwardly. From the first day she had met him and put the collar around his neck to take him back to the Palace of the Prophets to be trained to use his gift, her life had felt as if it had been caught up in the whirlpool that was Richard. She vividly remembered that snowy day, back at the mud people's village, when she had taken him away. It had been profoundly sad, because it had been against his will, and at the same time it had been a momentous relief after having searched for him for twenty years.\n\nTo be sure, he had not gone willingly into such benevolent captivity. In fact, two of the Sisters with Verna had died in the effort to make Richard put on that collar he so hated." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Verna frowned... put on the collar.\n\nThat was odd. She tried to recall exactly how it was that she had managed to get him to put the collar around his neck, as it had to be done. Richard hated collars-especially after having once been a captive of a Mord-Sith-and yet he had put it on of his own freewill. For some peculiar reason, though, she couldn't seem to recall just how she had managed to get him to-\n\n\"Verna, this is really strange...\" The brown leather of Berdine's outfit creaked as she leaned in a little more, peering intently at the last of the text in the ancient volume laid open on the table before her. She carefully turned a page, checking, and then turned it back. She looked up. \"I know this book had writing in it before. That writing is now missing.\"\n\nAs Verna watched the candlelight dance in Berdine's blue eyes, she set aside memories from long ago and returned her full attention to the important matters at hand.\n\n\"But it wasn't this book, now, was it?\" When Berdine frowned, Verna went onto explain. \"It may have been the same title, but it wasn't this very book. You were at the Keep; it was a different copy of this book. Yes?\"\n\n\"Well, sure, I guess you're right that it wasn't this actual book...\" Berdine straightened and scratched her head of wavy brown hair. \"But if it's the same title, then why do you think that the copy at the Wizard's Keep has all the writing in it while this one has big sections of the writing missing?\"\n\n\"I didn't say that the copy there still has all the writing in it. I'm only saying that the copy at the Keep, not this one, was the one you studied with Richard. That you recall reading it and not seeing any blank pages doesn't prove anything because it wasn't this very same book. But even more importantly, this book might in fact be identical in that it contains all the same text, but the scribe who made this duplicate might have simply left blank pages among that text for any number of reasons.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Berdine looked skeptical. \"What reasons?\"\n\nVerna shrugged. \"Sometimes books with incomplete prophecy, such as these here, have blank places left in them to provide room for future prophets to finish the prophecy.\"\n\nBerdine planted her fists on her hips. \"Fine, but answer me one question. When I look through this book I recall the things I'm reading. I may not understand most of it, but I remember it in a general sense, remember reading these passages. So why is it that I can't remember a single thing about the sections that are missing from the book?\"\n\n\"The simple explanation is that you don't recall anything of the blank sections because they are simply that, blank places, as I said, that were left in the book by the person who made the copy.\"\n\n\"No, that's not what I mean. I mean, I recall the general nature of the prophecies-the length of them. As a gifted person you would be more attuned to what you're reading. I wouldn't. Since I never really understood these prophecies, I instead remember more of the way they looked. I remember how long they were. These are no longer complete. I didn't understand them, and I remember how long they seemed and how hard it was to make sense of such long prophecies.\"\n\n\"When something is hard to understand it always seems longer than it really is.\"\n\n\"No.\" Berdine screwed up her face with conviction. \"That's not it.\" She turned to the last prophecy and tapped the page. \"This one here is only a page long followed by a number of blank pages. I can't say that I remember the others so well, but for some reason I paid more attention to the last one. I'm telling you, I remember that this one for sure was a lot longer. I can't swear to how long the others were, or how long this one is supposed to be, but I do know for certain that this last one, at least, was more than a page. It wasn't incomplete, as this one here is, now. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to remember how long it was, or what it said, but I know that it was more than a single page.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was the confirmation Verna had been waiting for.\n\n\"While most of it makes little sense tome,\" Berdine went on, \" I do remember this part, this beginning having to do with all the talk about a forked source and the confusing business about going back to a mantic root, and then the \"splitting the horde that vaunts the Creator's cause\"-that part at least sounds like the Imperial Order-but I can't recall the rest of it that's blank after'a leader's lost trust.\"\n\n\"I'm not imagining it, Verna, I'm not. I can't say why I'm so sure that the rest of it is missing, but I am. And therein lies what has me so bothered-why is the part that's missing from the book missing from my memory?\"\n\nVerna leaned close and lifted an eyebrow. \"Now, that, my dear, is the question that I find troubling.\"\n\nBerdine looked startled. \"You mean, you know what I'm talking about? You believe me?\"\n\nVerna nodded. \"I'm afraid so. I didn't want to plant the seed of suggestion in your mind. I wanted you to confirm my own suspicions.\"\n\n\"Then this is what Ann was concerned about, what she wanted us to check?\"\n\n\"It is.\" Verna shuffled through the disorderly jumble of books on the sturdy table, finally pulling out the one she wanted. \"Look here at this book. This is the one that is perhaps the most troubling tome. Collected Origins is an exceedingly rare prophecy in that it was written entirely in story form. I studied this book before I left the Palace of the Prophets to search for Richard. I practically knew the story by heart.\" Verna fanned through the pages. \"The book is now entirely blank and I can't remember a single thing about it except that it had something to do with Richard-exactly what, I have no idea.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Berdine studied Verna's eyes the way only a Mord-Sith could study someone's eyes. \"So this is some kind of trouble, and that trouble is a threat to Lord Rahl.\"\n\nVerna let out a deep breath. The flames of several of the closer candles fluttered as she did so.\n\n\"I'd belying if I said otherwise, Berdine. While the missing text doesn't all have to do with Richard, it all pertains to a time after his birth. I don't have a clue as to the nature of the problem, but I admit that it has me greatly concerned.\"\n\nBerdine's demeanor changed. Usually the woman was the most good-natured of any of the Mord-Sith that Verna knew. Berdine had a kind of simple, childlike glee about the world around her. At times she could be heartwarmingly curious. Despite hardships that had others complaining, Berdine usually wore an unaffected smile.\n\nBut at the impression of some kind of threat to Richard, she changed in a flash to all business. And now she had turned as suspicious and coldly menacing as any Mord-Sith ever was.\n\n\"What could be the cause of this?\" Berdine demanded. \"What does it mean?\"\n\nVerna closed the book full of blank pages. \"I don't know, Berdine, I really don't. Ann and Nathan areas puzzled as we are-and Nathan is a prophet.\"\n\n\"What does that part about people losing trust in their leader mean?\"\n\nFor an ungifted person, Berdine had managed to single out the most crucial part of a very oblique prophecy.\n\n\"Well,\" Verna said, cautiously framing her answer, \"it could mean a number of things. It's hard to tell.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Maybe hard for me, but not hard for you.\"\n\nVerna cleared her throat. \"I'm not an expert in prophecy, you understand, but I think it has something to do with Richard.\"\n\n\"I know that much. Why would this prophecy talk about people losing trust in him?\"\n\n\"Berdine, prophecy is rarely as straightforward as it seems.\" Verna wished the woman would stop staring at her. \"What it seems to say usually has nothing at all to do with the actual event involved in the body of the prophecy.\"\n\n\"Prelate, this prophecy seems tome to suggest that questions of soundness of mind are going to be the cause of \"a leader's lost trust. \"Since this prophecy names the leader as the one opposed to the horde that vaunts the Creator's cause-that would be the Imperial Order-that means it has to be talking about Lord Rahl. It then follows that Lord Rahl is the leader in whom people will lose trust. It comes after the part about the splitting of the horde, which the Order has now done. That makes the threat imminent.\"\n\nVerna felt sorry for anyone whoever made the unfortunate mistake of underestimating Berdine.\n\n\"It is my experience that prophecy sometimes tends to fret over Richard like a doting grandparent.\"\n\n\"This sounds tome like a specific threat.\"\n\nVerna folded her hands before herself. \" Berdine, you area very smart woman, so I hope you can understand why it would be a grave mistake for me to argue or even discuss this prophecy with you. Prophecy is beyond the mind of the ungifted. It has little to do with how smart a person is. Prophecy is a creation of the gifted and meant only for those who are gifted in the same way. They are not even intended for other types of wizards." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Even us Sisters, talented sorceresses though we maybe, had to train for years before we were allowed to even look at prophecy, much less work with it. It is exceedingly dangerous for the untrained to hazard guesses at the meaning of prophecy. You may recognize the words, but you do not recognize the meaning of those words.\"\n\n\"That's silly. Words are words. They have meaning. That is how we can understand the world around us. Why would prophecy take words that mean something and use them for some other unknown meaning?\"\n\nVerna felt as if she were stepping gingerly through afield of bear traps. \" That isn't exactly what I meant by what I said. Words can be used to make people understand, to explain, to veil, and to interpret the world, but they can also be used to explain things that are only speculation. If I foretell that dark times will come into your life, those words maybe true, but it could mean that you will suffer a loss that will sadden you, or it could mean that you will be murdered. Though the words might be true, their exact meaning is not yet known. It would be a grave injustice to use those words as a reason to start killing everyone around you because the words made you fear you would be murdered.\n\n\"Wars have started over such misunderstandings about prophecy. People have died as the result of the untrained hearing what they think are the simple words of prophecy. That is why the books of prophecy were kept insecure vaults below the Palace of the Prophets.\"\n\n\"These books of prophecy are not kept in vaults.\"\n\nVerna's brow drew down as she leaned toward the Mord-Sith. \"Perhaps they should be.\"\n\n\"Are you saying that I'm wrong in what I believe this prophecy says?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Verna heaved another sigh." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Right or wrong is impossible to discern in this instance. We can't even begin to intelligently dissect this prophecy because it's incomplete. We have here only the beginning of it and then a number of blank pages.\"\n\n\"So?\"\n\n\"So, it could be just as you say, that it's about Richard and people will question his judgment and lose faith in him, but maybe the missing text says that the issue will be resolved the next day by some other event of consequence and they will think more of him than they ever had before. Not only can prophecy be forked, meaning that it maybe an either-or kind of statement, but the same prophecy could mean opposite things.\"\n\n\"I don't see how it can mean opposite things. And how could something happen in the missing text of this prophecy to change people's minds?\"\n\nVerna shrugged as she gazed around the vast, dimly lit library, trying to think of an example. \" Well, say that they thought his battle plan was crazy. Maybe the army officers think it ill advised. That could be something that would result in this prophecy, in people losing faith in him. Then, say that, despite the advice of officers, Richard insists and so, despite their doubts and lack of faith, the soldiers follow his plan as ordered and achieve a victory that they never thought they could win. Their faith in Richard as their leader would be restored and they would probably have even more respect for his judgment than they ever did before.\n\n\"But if the prophecy were to be acted upon without understanding its true meaning, those actions very well could countermand the rest of the event as it would have taken place naturally and give the illusion that the prophecy had been fulfilled, but in fact the real and truly prophesied events had been bypassed by foolishly invoking a misinterpretation of the actual prophecy.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Berdine, watching Verna the whole time, drew her single brown braid through a loose fist. \"I guess that could make sense.\"\n\n\"You see, Berdine, why prophecy is so confusing, even for those of us trained in it? But to make matters worse, without the whole prophecy we dare not even begin to try understand them or to assign any significance to them. The complete text is indispensable if one is to even begin to try to understand prophecy. Without all the text it's as if prophecy has gone blind. That's one reason why this is so disturbing.\"\n\n\"One reason?\" Berdine looked up again, still running her braid through her fist. \"What is the other reason?\"\n\n\"It's bad enough to be without the text that was previously there, but the cause behind such an unprecedented event-the text of prophecy vanishing-is troubling in the extreme.\"\n\n\"I thought you just said that we shouldn't jump to conclusions when it comes to prophecy.\"\n\nVerna cleared her throat, feeling as if one of those bear traps just snapped closed on her leg. \"Well, that's true, but it's obvious that something is going on.\"\n\nBerdine folded her arms as she pondered the problem. \"What do you think could be happening?\"\n\nVerna shook her head. \"I can't begin to imagine. Such a thing, to my knowledge, has never happened before. I have no idea why it's happening now.\"\n\n\"But you think it's trouble that involves Lord Rahl.\"\n\nVerna gave Berdine a sidelong look. \"The simple fact that so much of prophecy involves him makes that conclusion impossible to avoid. Richard is born to trouble. He is at the center of it.\"\n\nBerdine didn't appear to like that one bit. \"That is why he needs us.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I've never argued that he didn't.\"\n\nBerdine relaxed, if only a notch, and flicked her braid back over her shoulder. \"No, you have not.\"\n\n\"Ann is searching for him. Let's hope she can find him, and soon. We need him to lead us in the coming battle.\"\n\nAs Verna spoke, Berdine idly pulled a book from one of the glass cases and began leafing through it. \"Lord Rahl is supposed to be magic against magic, not the steel against steel.\"\n\n\"That is a D'Haran proverb. Prophecy says that he must lead us in the final battle.\"\n\n\"I suppose,\" Berdine mumbled without looking up as she slowly turned pages.\n\n\"With part of Jagang's forces headed south around the mountains, we can only hope that Ann will find him in time and bring him to us.\"\n\nBerdine was puzzling at the book. \"What is it that is buried with the bones?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\nBerdine was still frowning as she tried to workout something in the book. \"This book caught my attention before because it says Fuer Grissa Ost Drauka on the cover. That's High D'Haran. It means-\"\n\n\"The bringer of death.\"\n\nBerdine glanced up. \"Yes. How did you know?\"\n\n\"There was a widely known prophecy that the Sisters back at the Palace of the Prophets used to debate. It had, actually, been hotly debated for centuries. The first day I brought Richard to the palace he declared himself to be the bringer of death and thus named himself to be the one in the prophecy. It caused quite astir among the Sisters, I can tell you. One day, down in the vaults, Warren showed Richard the prophecy and Richard himself solved the riddle of it, although to Richard it wasn't a riddle. He understood it because he had lived portions of the prophecy.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"This book has a lot of blank pages in it.\"\n\n\"No doubt. It sounds like it's about Richard. There are probably a great number of books here that are about him.\"\n\nBerdine was reading again. \"This is in High D'Haran. Like I said, I know High D'Haran. I would have to work at it to be able to translate it more completely, and it would help if there wasn't so much missing text, but this place is apparently talking about Lord Rahl. It says something like,\"what he seeks is buried with the bones, \"or maybe even'what he seeks is buried bones'-something like that.\"\n\nBerdine looked up at Verna. \"Any idea what that's about? What it could mean?\"\n\n\"What he seeks is buried bones?\" Verna shook her head with regret. \"I have no idea. There are probably countless volumes here that have interesting, or puzzling, or frightening things to say about Richard. As I told you, though, with copy missing, what is there is next to useless.\"\n\n\"I suppose,\" Berdine said in disappointment. \"What about \"central sites\"?\"\n\n\"Central sites?\"\n\n\"Yes. This books mentions places called \"central sites.\"\" Berdine stared off as she considered something to herself. \"Central sites. Kolo mentioned something about central sites.\"\n\n\"Kolo?\"\n\nBerdine nodded. \"It's a journal written ages ago-during the great war. Lord Rahl found the book at the Wizard's Keep, in the room with the sliph. The man who kept the journal is named Koloblicin. In High D'Haran the name means'strong advisor. ' Lord Rahl and I call him Kolo, for short.\"\n\n\"What did this Kolo have to say about these places, these central sites? What are they?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Berdine turned through the pages of the book she held." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I don't recall. It was nothing I understood at the time so I didn't devote a lot of effort to it. I'd have to go study it again to refresh my memory.\" She squinted in recollection. \"It seemed like there was something buried at the places called central sites. I can't remember if it said what was buried.\"\n\nThe Mord-Sith stood frozen in her same pose as she studied the little book. \"I was hoping this might give me a clue.\"\n\nVerna let out a heavy sigh as she glanced around at the library.\n\n\"Berdine, I would love to stay and spend time researching all these books. I would truly like to know what this library and the others here at the palace contain, but there are more pressing matters at hand. We need to get back to the army and my Sisters.\"\n\nVerna took a last look around. \"Before I go, however, there is one thing here at the People's Palace that I would like to check on. Maybe you can help me.\"\n\nBerdine reluctantly closed the book and replaced it on the shelf. She carefully closed the glass door.\n\n\"All right, Prelate. What is it you want to see?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Verna paused at hearing the single, long peal of a bell.\n\n\"What was that?\"\n\n\"Devotion,\" Berdine said, stopping to look back at Verna as the deep toll reverberated through the vast marble and granite halls of the People's Palace.\n\nPeople, no matter where they seemed to beheaded, turned and instead moved toward the broad passageway from where the deep, resonant sound of the bell had come. No one looked to be in a hurry, but they all very deliberately walked toward the slowly dying sound of the bell.\n\nVerna puzzled at Berdine. \"What?\"\n\n\"Devotion. You know what a devotion is.\"\n\n\"You mean a devotion to the Lord Rahl? That devotion?\"\n\nBerdine nodded. \"The bell announces that it is time for the devotion.\" Pensively, she gazed off in the direction of the hall where people were headed.\n\nMany of the gathering crowd were dressed in robes of a variety of muted colors. Verna assumed that white robes with gold or silver banding on them were the mark of officials of one sort or another who lived and worked at the palace. They certainly had the manner and bearing of officials. Everyone from those administrators to messengers in tunics trimmed in green and carrying leather satchels with an ornate letter'R\" on them, standing for the House of Rahl, continued their casual conversations even as they made their way to the convergence of wide halls. Other people who worked at any of the countless variety of shops were dressed more appropriately for their profession, whether it was working at leather, silver, pottery, cobbling, or tailoring, providing the many foods and services, or doing any of the various palace work from maintenance to cleaning.\n\nThere were a number of people dressed in the simple clothes of farmers, tradesmen, and merchants, many with their wives and some with children. Like those Verna had seen in the lower levels within the great plateau atop which sat the People's Palace or at the markets setup outside, they appeared to be visitors come to trade or make purchases. Others, though, were dressed in finery for their sojourn to the palace. From what Verna had learned from Berdine, there were rooms that guests could rent if they wished to stay for an extended period. There were, as well, quarters for the many people who lived and worked at the palace." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Most of the people in robes walked calmy, as if this were just another part of their day." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Those dressed in finery tried to look just as calm and not stare at the exquisite architecture of the palace, but Verna saw their wide eyes wandering. The simply dressed visitors, as they fell in with the flow of all the people making their way toward the fork that would take them to the passageway with the bell, openly peered about at everything, at the towering statues of men and women in proud poses carved from variegated stone, at polished two-story fluted columns soaring past balconies, at the spectacular black granite and honey-onyx floors.\n\nVerna knew that such intricate and precise patterns in the stone floors, set with such tight grout joints, could have been created only by the most talented master craftsmen in all of the New World. Serving as Prelate at the Palace of the Prophets fora time, she had had to deal with the matter of the replacement of a section of beautifully patterned floor that had in the dim past been damaged by young wizards in training. The precise events leading to the damage and who, exactly, had been the guilty party remained shrouded in oaths not to tattle, but the result was that the bit of mischievous magic had in an instant torn up along section of exquisitely laid marble floor. While the debris and loose tiles had long since been removed, the floor sat damaged for decades, filled in with serviceable but unsightly limestone, while life at the Palace of the Prophets moved on. The palace attitude toward the boys had been one of indulgence, in part out of a sense of regret for having to hold such young men against their will.\n\nVerna had always been vexed that the damage had never been fixed-in part because by not fixing it represented to her an attitude that had indulged such bad behavior. It had always seemed like she was the only one-except maybe until Richard came along-who was bothered by seeing such beauty marred. Richard expected the boys thereto take responsibility for their actions. Even though he was held against his will, he never tolerated such senseless destructive behavior." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Warren saw matters the same way as Richard." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Perhaps that was part of the reason they had become such fast friends. Warren had always been serious and dedicated about everything. After Richard had left the palace, Warren had reminded Verna that as the new prelate she no longer needed to complain about either the behavior or the floor; he encouraged her to act on her convictions. So, as Prelate, she both set new rules and set about seeing to the completion of the repairs to the floor.\n\nThat was when she had come to learn a thing or two about such floors and that while there were any number of men who boldly professed to be master craftsmen, very few actually were. Those who were let their work make clear the distinction. The former made the task a nightmare, the latter a joy.\n\nShe remembered how proud Warren had been of her for seeing the task through and for not accepting anything less than the best. She missed him so much.\n\nVerna gazed around at the spectacular palace, at the intricate stonework, and yet such beauty now failed to move her. Since Warren had died everything seemed bland, uninteresting, and unimportant to her. Since Warren had died, life itself seemed drudgery.\n\nEverywhere throughout the palace, wary soldiers patrolled, probably not ever realizing, or even considering, the staggering amount of human imagination, skill, and effort that had gone into the creation of such a place as the People's Palace. Now, they were apart of it, apart of what kept it viable, like thousands of men just like them who for centuries had walked these same halls and kept them safe.\n\nVerna noticed that some of the guards moved through the halls in pairs, while others patrolled in larger groups. The muscular young men were dressed in smart uniforms with molded leather shoulder and breastplates and all carried at least a sword. Many of the soldiers also carried pikes with gleaming metal points. Verna noticed special guards who wore black gloves and carried crossbows slung over their shoulders. The quivers at their belts held red-fletched bolts. The soldiers' eyes were always on the move, watching everything." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I seem to recall Richard mentioning the devotion,\" Verna said, \"but I didn't think that they still did it when the Lord Rahl wasn't at the palace. And especially not since Richard became the Lord Rahl.\"\n\nVerna hadn't exactly meant it to be condescending, although she realized after she'd said it that it must have sounded that way. It was just that Richard was... well, Richard.\n\nBerdine glanced at Verna askance. \"He is still the Lord Rahl. We are no less bonded to him because he is away. The devotion is always done at the palace, whether the Lord Rahl is here or not. And regardless of how you may view him, he is the Lord Rahl by every measure. We have never had a Lord Rahl we respected as much as we respect him. That makes the devotion more meaningful, and more important, than it ever was before.\"\n\nVerna kept her mouth shut, but she cast Berdine a look that came all too easily to her as a Sister of the Light and now as Prelate. Even though she understood the reasons behind it, she was the Prelate of the Sisters of the Light, devoted to seeing the Creator's will done. As a Sister of the Light, living at the Palace of the Prophets under the spell that slowed their aging, she had seen rulers come and go. The Sisters of the Light never bowed down to any of them.\n\nShe reminded herself that the Palace of the Prophets was gone. The Imperial Order now controlled many of the Sisters.\n\nBerdine lifted an arm, indicating the palace around them. \"The Lord Rahl makes all this possible. He gives us a homeland. He is the magic against magic. His rule keeps us safe. While in the past we have had masters who regarded the devotion as a demonstration of servitude, its origin is actually nothing more than an act of respect.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Verna's aggravation seethed just below the surface. This was not some mythic leader Berdine was talking about, some wise old king; it was Richard. As much as Verna respected and valued him, it was still Richard. Woods guide Richard.\n\nSwiftly on the heels of her flash of indignation come regret for such unkind thoughts.\n\nRichard always fought for what was right. He had valiantly put his life in peril for his noble beliefs.\n\nHe was also the one named in prophecy.\n\nHe was also the Seeker.\n\nHe was also the Lord Rahl, the bringer of death, who had turned the world upside down. Because of Richard, Verna was prelate. She wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.\n\nRichard was also their last hope.\n\n\"Well, if he doesn't hurry up and join up with us to lead the D'Haran army in the final battle there will be none of us left to respect him.\"\n\nBerdine withdrew her reproachful stare and unexpectedly started toward the passageway that turned off to the left-the one where the bell had rung. \"We are the steel against steel. Lord Rahl is the magic against magic. If he doesn't come to fight with the army it is only because of his duty to protect us all from the dark forces of magic.\"\n\n\"Simpleminded gibberish,\" Verna muttered to herself as she hurried to catch up with the Mord-Sith. \"Where are you going?\" she called after the woman.\n\n\"To devotion. At the palace everyone goes to devotion.\"\n\n\"Berdine,\" Verna growled as she caught Berdine's arm, \"we don't have time for this.\"\n\n\"It is devotion. It is part of our bond to Lord Rahl. You would be wise to go to devotion and then maybe you will remember that.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Verna stood frozen in the vast hall, stunned, watching the Mord-Sith stalk off. Verna had a vivid memory of the time that the bond to Richard had been severed. It hadn't been for long, but in Richard's absence from the world of life the protection of the bond to the Lord Rahl had ceased to exist.\n\nIn that brief window in time, when Richard and the bond were gone from them all, Jagang had stolen into Verna's dreams to capture her mind. He had captured Warren as well. It had been beyond horror to have the dream walker in control of her consciousness, but it had been all the worse to know that Warren was just as helpless. Jagang's brutal presence had dominated every aspect of their existence, from what they could think, to what they had to do. They no longer had control of their own will; Jagang's will was all that mattered. Just the memory of the searing pain that had been sent through that link into her-and into Warren-unexpectedly brought the sting of tears to Verna's eyes.\n\nShe quickly swiped away the tears and hurried after Berdine. Verna had important things to do, but she would lose untold time trying to find her way all alone in the vast interior of the People's Palace. She needed the Mord-Sith to show her the way. If Verna had control of her gift it might help her find what she sought, but in the palace her Han was virtually useless. She would just have to go along with Berdine and hope that they could then get back to business without the loss of too much time.\n\nThe passageway to the left led under an interior bridge with a rail and balusters made of gray marble struck through with white veins. At a convergence of four passageways, the hall expanded into a square open to the sky. In the center of the square was a square pond with a short, polished speckled gray granite seat all the way around that held the water within. A large pitted rock satin the water a little off center. Atop the rock sat a bell-apparently the one that had rung calling people to the devotion." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gentle rain had begun to fall in through the open roof. The surface of the pond danced with the drops. Verna saw that the floor all around the square was gently sloped toward drains in order to handle any rain. The clay tiles' helped reinforce the realization that the square was really out-of-doors.\n\nAll around the people were going to their knees, bowing down on the clay tile floor, facing the pond that held the now silent bronze bell.\n\nBerdine's dark discontent evaporated at seeing that Verna was coming with her. She smiled back happily and then did the strangest thing. She reached out and took Verna's hand.\n\n\"Come on, let me take you up by the pond. It has fish.\"\n\n\"Fish?\"\n\nBerdine's grin widened. \"Yes. I love the squares with fish.\"\n\nSure enough, after they wove their way through all the people kneeling down on the floor and reached the front of the crowd close to the pond, Verna saw that there were schools of orange fish meandering through the water. There was hardly enough room for them to stand among all the people bowed down on the floor around them.\n\n\"Aren't they pretty?\" Berdine asked. She had that little-girl air about her again.\n\nVerna glared at the young woman. \"They're fish.\"\n\nBerdine seemed unfazed and knelt in a spot that opened up as people moved aside for them. Verna could see by the sidelong glances that everyone had at least a healthy respect for the Mord-Sith, if not open fear. While none of them appeared frightened enough to leave, they clearly didn't want to be where Berdine wanted to be when she wanted to be there. They also seemed more than a little worried about who the Mord-Sith was dragging to the devotion, as if it might be a repentant sinner and the lesson might involve bloodshed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Berdine glanced over her shoulder at Verna before leaning forward and placing her hands on the tile floor. The brief look had been an admonition for Verna to do the same. Verna saw that the guards were watching her. This was crazy; she was the Prelate of the Sisters of the Light, an advisor to Richard and one of his close friends.\n\nBut the guards didn't know that.\n\nVerna knew all too well that her power was diminished to next to nothing in the palace. This was the ancestral home of the House of Rahl. The entire palace had been builtin the shape of a spell-form designed to enhance their power and deny others theirs.\n\nVerna let out a sigh and finally went to her knees, bowing forward on her hands like everyone else. They were close to the pond, but the opening in the roof was only about the size of the pond itself, so the rain was confined mostly to the pond and whatever stray rain the gentle breeze carried beyond. The few sprinkles that reached her actually felt rather refreshing, considering her heated mood.\n\n\"I'm too old for this,\" Verna complained in a whisper to her devotion partner.\n\n\"Prelate, you area young, healthy woman,\" Berdine chided.\n\nVerna let out a sigh. It was no use arguing the foolishness of kneeling on the floor and saying a devotion to a man she was already devoted to in more ways than one. But it was more than foolish. It was silly. And a waste of time besides.\n\n\"Master Rahl guide us,\" the crowd all began together, if not all quite in harmony, as they bowed down and put their foreheads against the floor.\n\n\"Master Rahl teach us,\" they all said, coming more into unison." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Berdine, her forehead against the tile, still managed to cast a fiery look Verna's way. Verna rolled her eyes and bent forward, placing her forehead against the tile.\n\n\"Master Rahl protect us,\" she muttered, finally joining in with the devotion she knew and had already once given to Richard himself. \"In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.\"\n\nVerna sourly considered how, if Richard didn't wisely hurry up and get his hide to the D'Haran army, he wasn't going to be able to protect anyone.\n\nTogether, the assembled throng softly chanted the devotion again.\n\n\"Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.\"\n\nVerna leaned a little toward Berdine and whispered. \"How many times are we going to have to say the devotion?\"\n\nBerdine, looking very much the Mord-Sith, shot Verna astern glance. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Verna recognized the look She herself had countless times used the same look as she peered down her nose at novices who were misbehaving or young wizards-in-training who were being mulish. Verna turned her eyes back to the tile under her feeling very much like a novice again as she softly spoke the chant alone with the rest of the people.\n\n\"Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The murmur of the chanted devotion, in the single joined voice of all the people gathered in the square, echoed through the cavernous halls.\n\nAfter the look Berdine had given her, Verna thought it best if, for the time being, she kept her objections to herself and said the devotion along with everyone else.\n\nShe spoke the words softly, thinking about them, and how many times they had proven true for her, personally. Richard had changed everything about her life. Verna had thought that the most important mission for the Sisters was to put a collar around gifted boys' necks and train them in the use of their ability. Richard had humbled her for that unthinking belief. He had changed everything, made her rethink everything.\n\nIf not for Richard, Verna doubted that she would ever have been thrown together with Warren and that their fondness for each other would have blossomed into love. In that, Richard had given her the greatest thing she had ever had in her life.\n\n\"Master Rahl guide us. Master Rahl teach us. Master Rahl protect us. In your light we thrive. In your mercy we are sheltered. In your wisdom we are humbled. We live only to serve. Our lives are yours.\"\n\nThe cadence of the murmured words of all the voices of the gathered people joined into a reverent sound that swelled until it filled the great hall.\n\nVerna felt so all alone, even among the gathered crowd of so many people. She ached with how much she missed Warren. She had built a wall around her feelings and had shut herself away from such thoughts, as well as those around her, hoping to be spared the pain that always seemed to lurk just below the surface. Now she was suddenly overwhelmed by the raw misery of how much she missed Warren, how much she loved him. He was the best thing that had ever happened in her entire life-and now he was gone. Tears from her hopeless heartache welled up. She felt so alone." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Support the writer by proceeding with the storyline.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, amnesia\nAuthor: Terry Goodkind\nTitle: Chainfire\nChapter: 32" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Rikka straightened defiantly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I prefer to accept your adoration from afar.\"\n\nZedd wasn't listening to her. He rubbed his hands together as he tried to remember exactly where it was that he'd seen the reference. It had been ages ago. But how long ago, exactly? And where?\n\n\"What is it?\" Chase asked. \"Have you solved the puzzle?\"\n\nZedd's mouth twisted with the effort of thought. \"I recall reading a reference to such an event. I remember seeing some kind of exegesis.\"\n\n\"A what?\"\n\n\"An explanation. An analysis of this issue.\"\n\n\"So then it is some... book thing.\"\n\nZedd nodded. \"Yes, exactly. I just need to remember where it was that I saw the passage. It was about worms.\"\n\nChase cast a sidelong glance at Rikka before he scratched his head of thick, graying brown hair. \"Worms?\"\n\nZedd dry-washed his hands as vague recollections ghosted through his mind. Those shadowy memories were real, he was sure of it, but despite his frantic effort to grasp them and pull them into the light of consciousness, they remained just out of reach.\n\n\"Zedd, what are you talking about?\" Rikka asked. \"What did you say? Worms?\"\n\n\"What? Oh, yes, that's right. Worms. Prophetic worms. It was some kind of evaluation, I think, examining if such a thing might be able to erode prophecy.\"\n\nChase and Rikka stared at him as if he were crazy but said nothing.\n\nZedd paced from the table to the corner bookcase and back. He pushed the heavy oak chair aside with afoot as he walked back and forth, thinking. He ran through a list of places that might have a book that would contain such a reference. There were libraries allover the Keep. There were thousands of books in those libraries-maybe tens of thousands. If he had even seen the reference at the Wizard's Keep. He had visited any number of libraries in other places. There were a number of archives in the Confessors\" Palace, down in Aydindril. There were palaces on Kings Row, also in Aydindril, that contained extensive collections of books. There were any number of cities that Zedd had visited with repositories and archives. There were so many books, how was he to remember one he hadn't seen forages-perhaps since he was young?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What, exactly, are you talking about?\" Rikka asked when she tired of watching him pace. \"What explanation are you talking about?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure, yet. It was along time ago. Had to be. Had to be when I was young. I will remember, I'm sure of it. I just have to give it some thought. Even if it takes all night, I will remember where I saw the passage. I wish I had my reason chair,\" he muttered as he turned away.\n\nRikka frowned at Chase as she kept an eye on Zedd as he paced. \"His what?\"\n\n\"Back in Westland,\" Chase said in a low voice, \"he had a chair on his porch where he would sit and think-where he would reason out problems. That was back when everything started, when Darken Rahl came and tried to capture him and Richard. They fled just in time. They came tome and I led them through a gap to the boundary.\"\n\n\"Seems tome that there are chairs enough around here. He's practically tripping over that one, there.\" Rikka's mouth twisted with exasperation. \"Besides, a person doesn't need a chair to make their brain work. At least, if they do, they have bigger problems.\"\n\n\"I suppose.\" Together with Rikka, Chase watched Zedd pace fora while. Finally, not being one to stand around, he caught the sleeve of Zedd's robes. \"I guess I'd better go see to Rachel while you workout your solution. I want to make sure she gets her things together and gets to bed.\"\n\nZedd swished a hand, urging the man on his way. \"Yes, you're right. Go ahead. Tell her I will come to kiss her goodnight after awhile. I just need lo think on this a bit.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Once he was gone, Rikka leaned a leather-covered hip against the heavy desk and folded her arms under her breasts. \"Are you saying that the words of prophecy vanishing was caused by some kind of worm, like a bookworm that eats the paste or the paper?\"\n\n\"No, it eats the words, not the paper.\"\n\n\"Then it's... what? Some kind of tiny little worm that eats ink?\"\n\nAnnoyed at the interruption, Zedd halted his pacing to stare at her. \"Eats... ? No, no, not in that way. This is something of magic. A tricky little twist of something clever. If I recall correctly it was referred to as a prophetic worm because it could eat away at the branches of prophecy, much like wood bore worms eat away at a tree. It starts with related prophecy, either in subject or in chronology, like wood bores might infest a particular branch. Once established this kind of worm begins eating away the tree of prophecy. In this case, the branch is the one having to do with the time since Richard was born.\"\n\nRikka looked genuinely fascinated and at the same time distraught. She straightened and tilted her head toward him. \"Really? Magic can do such a thing?\"\n\nZedd, holding his elbow in one hand and his chin in the fingertips of the other, made a low sound deep in his throat. \"I think so. Maybe. I'm not sure.\" He heaved an impatient, irritable sigh. \"I'm trying to remember. I only saw the reference once. I can't recall if it was a theory I read or if it was the spell itself, or if it was only a suggestion in a book of records, or if it... Wait-\"\n\nHe stared up at the beamed ceiling as he squinted with the effort of recollection. \"It was before Richard was born, I'm sure of that much. I remember that I was a young man. That would mean that it had to be when I was here. That much makes sense. And if I was here...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Zedd's head came back down. \"Dear spirits.\"\n\nRikka leaned in. \"What? Dear spirits what?\"\n\n\"I remember,\" Zedd whispered, his eyes going wide. \"I remember where I saw it.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\nShoving his sleeves higher up his bony arms, Zedd headed for the door. \"Never mind. I will see to it. You just go about your patrolling, or something. I'll be back later.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With the sun going down, the air was beginning to cool as Zedd raced down the broad rampart. The huge stones of the crenellated wall radiated heat they had stored from the hot sun beating down on them all day. The city far below the mountainside was melting into a sea of gloom, while pink rays of the departing sun caressed the tops of some of the tallest towers of the Keep high overhead. The dying light of dusk had brought a still quiet touched only by the distant whisper of the cicadas.\n\nAt an intersection of ramparts, Zedd ran around the corner to the right. Unlike the rampart at the edge of the Keep, which overlooked a drop-off of thousands of feet down the sheer face of the mountain, the narrower interior bastion wall had precipitous drop-offs to both sides, yet within the massive complex that gave a clear view of nearly windowless walls descending down into the darkness. Courtyards far below provided the refreshment of open air directly off some of the lower floors within the Keep. Zedd imagined that people who in the past had worked in the lower reaches of the Keep must have appreciated being able to step outside from time to time.\n\nAshe ran down the narrow bastion path, bridges to various towers crossed overhead. Soaring up before him at the end of the pathway was an immense, imposing wall with vertical rows of projecting keystones for interior floors. There was a grand, double entrance door at the base of that looming wall with designs above reliefs of columns carved in the wall beneath the arched stone lintel, but Zedd instead took to an opening in the side rail to take the steps down. The seemingly eternal flight of stairs descended down along, sloping lip built into the side of the clifflike bastion wall.\n\nHe needed to go down into the lower reaches of the Keep, deep within the mountain, to places where no one ever went." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "To places no one but he even knew existed.\n\nThe stone banister on the open, exposed side of the stairs wasn't very high and as a consequence the descent down the straight run of hundreds of feet of stairs, with no landings, was a harrowing experience. To his left rose the carefully fit stone blocks of the imposing bastion wall, to his right was a drop-off that would make any self-respecting cliff proud. Going down that monumental run of stairs always made Zedd feel tiny. He could see little more at the bottom than the jagged formation of dark rock at the base of one of the round towers rising up from the small courtyard.\n\nPartway down, Zedd realized that he heard footsteps racing to catch him. He stopped and turned. It was Rikka.\n\n\"What do you think you're doing?\" He called up to her.\n\nThe wind rising up the narrow canyon formed by the stonewalls all around lifted his hair and his robes. It almost felt as if his bony frame might lift right off the stairs and be carried away like a dried leaf on an updraft.\n\nRikka came to a panting halt a few steps above him. \"What does it look like I'm doing?\"\n\n\"It looks like you're not doing what I told you to do.\"\n\n\"Let's go,\" she said, swishing her hand to urge him on. \"I'm coming with you.\"\n\n\"I told you that I would see to this. I told you to go patrol or something.\"\n\n\"This is trouble that concerns Lord Rahl.\"\n\n\"It's just some information in old books that I need to check into.\"\n\n\"Chase and Rachel are leaving early in the morning. You would be in with Rachel, telling her a story and tucking her in, unless there was something going on that has you really worried. This is about Lord Rahl. If it has you worried, then it has me worried. I'm going with you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Zedd didn't want to standout on the open steps arguing with her, so he didn't. He turned and raced downward, holding up his robes in both fists so that he wouldn't trip and fall. Besides going on seemingly forever, the steps were frighteningly steep. A fall so high upon the steps could easily be fatal.\n\nFinally reaching the bottom, Zedd stopped on the first steppingstone and turned back. \"Stay on the stones.\"\n\nRikka glanced around at the expanse of viny groundcover. Beyond were walls on two sides that rose up for hundreds of feet without interruption. Behind was the stairs and bastion wall. To the right was a jutting mass of bedrock from which the tower rose.\n\n\"Why?\" She asked as she followed Zedd across the steppingstones.\n\n\"Because I said so.\" lie didn't feel like spending time explaining traps of magic. Were she to step off the stones, the shields would not just warn her, but prevent her from going where she shouldn't be. Still, for those not possessing the proper power, it was always best to stay completely away from shields whenever possible.\n\nIf the shields failed to stop intruders from crossing this secluded courtyard, the vines would snare them. While the victim struggled to escape, these particular vines would tangle around the ankles. Stimulated by snuggling, the vines rapidly sprouted wicked thorns that penetrated into bone where they then anchored themselves. Freeing anyone trapped in the vines was a painful, bloody affair and, more often than not, fatal. Defenses at the Wizard's Keep were not hesitant in their purpose.\n\n\"Those vines are moving.\" Rikka snatched his sleeve. \"Those vines are moving like a nest of snakes.\"\n\nZedd scowled back over his shoulder. \"Why do you think I told you to stay on the steppingstones?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He lifted a lever and pulled open the second round-topped door he came to and ducked inside. He could feel Rikka practically breathing down his neck. Reaching blindly in the darkness his bony fingers found a smooth sphere in the bracket to the right. Ashe passed his handover the glossy surface it began to glow with a greenish light. The entry room was small, made of simple, undecorated stone block walls. Overhead was abeam and plank ceiling. Against the wall to the right was a single, short slab of slate builtin to provide a bench in case the stairs had left any visitor in need of a brief rest. In both of the other two walls were two dark passageways going off in separate directions.\n\nAlong the wall above the slab bench were dozens of brackets, over half of them holding spheres that glowed faintly with the same color of greenish light as the one he had first touched. Zedd lifted one of the spheres from a bracket. It was heavy, made from solid glass, but there were other elements fused into this glass and those elements responded to the stimulus of the gift. In his hand the greenish cast changed to a warmer yellow glow. He let a spark of his gift lift through the sphere and it brightened, throwing harsh shadows down the two halls ahead of them.\n\nWith a sharp jab of a bony linger, he sat Rikka on the bench. \"This is as far as you go.\"\n\nGrim determination was etched on her lace as her blue eyes watched him. \"Something strange is happening with the books of prophecy. You've been fretting over those books for days, now. You haven't eaten or slop! But worse by far is that the prophecies that are vanishing are about lord Rahl.\"\n\nIt was an observation, not a question. He'd thought that his turmoil had been all internal. She had been quietly paying more attention than he'd, given her credit for. Or maybe he had just been too distracted to notice her paying attention. In either case, it was not a good sign that he had been so preoccupied that he hadn't even been aware of her marking how absorbed and unsettled he'd been." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Near as I can tell, you are right in that a great many of those vanished prophecies are about Richard, but I don't think they all are. From what I have been able to determine, however, they all have to do with prophecy pertaining to a time after he was born. That doesn't mean that they are all about him, though. The blank places in the books are extensive. Since I can't remember what those blank places said, there obviously is noway to tell what they were about, making it impossible to know the subject individual of the missing prophecies.\"\n\n\"But from what you can piece together they mostly have something to do with Lord Rahl.\"\n\nThis, too, had not been a question, but a statement of observation, or, at least, reasoned speculation. This was a Mord-Sith asking questions that revolved around the issue of the safety of her Lord Rahl. Zedd could see that she was in no mood for any evasive explanations.\n\n\"I would have to agree that Richard, if not central, is at least deeply connected with the trouble in the books of prophecy.\"\n\nRikka rose up from the bench. \"Then this is no time for you to go all secretive on me. This is important. Lord Rahl is vital to all of us. This is not only about the safety of your grandson, but about the future of all of our lives.\"\n\n\"And I'm seeing to-\"\n\n\"It is not only important to you; he is important to all of us. If you alone discover something significant and anything happens to you, then we could all be left at a dead end. This is more important than you keeping your secrets.\"\n\nZedd put his hands on his hips and turned away fora moment, considering. He finally turned back to her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Rikka, there are things down there that no one knows about." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There are good reasons for that.\"\n\n\"I'm not going to steal any treasure and if you fear me seeing some'secret of the ages, ' then I will be willing to swear on my life to keep it secret unless it is necessary for me to reveal it to Lord Rahl.\"\n\n\"It's more than that. Many of the things in the lower reaches of the Keep are incredibly dangerous to anyone who goes near them.\"\n\n\"There are things of incredible danger outside the Keep as well. We no longer have the luxury of secrets.\"\n\nZedd watched her eyes. She had a point. If anything happened to him, the information, too, was as good as dead. He had always planned on someday letting Richard know about this, but there had never been anytime and, until the problem with the books of prophecy had cropped up, it hadn't seemed critical. Still, this was not Richard who would see these things.\n\n\"What do you think, wizard? That I will go to town and gossip about what I've seen? Who is left to tell? The Order has overrun most of the New World and everyone has fled Aydindril for D'Hara. D'Hara hangs by a thread. Our future hangs by a thread.\"\n\n\"There are reasons that some knowledge is kept hidden.\"\n\n\"There are also reasons that wise men sometimes must share what they know. Life is what matters. If knowledge will help preserve and advance life, then that knowledge should not be hidden-especially when it maybe lost right when it could be that it's needed most.\"\n\nZedd pressed his lips tight as he considered her words. He had discovered this secret when he had been a boy. His whole life he'd never told another person about it. No one had instructed him to keep it a secret-nor could they, no one but he knew about it. Still, he knew that there had to be a reason that this was not something that was meant to be widely known. This had been kept secret fora reason." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He just didn't know what that reason was.\n\n\"Zedd, for Lord Rahl's sake, for the sake of our cause, let me come with you.\"\n\nHe appraised her determination fora moment. \"You can never reveal this to anyone.\"\n\n\"Except for Lord Rahl, I will never reveal it to another. Mord-Sith often go to their graves without revealing the things they know.\"\n\nZedd nodded. \"All right. It goes to your grave with you, unless something happens tome. If so, then you must tell Richard what I show you this night. You must swear tome that you will never tell anyone else about this, though, not even your sister Mord-Sith.\"\n\nWithout hesitation Rikka held her handout to him. \"I swear.\"\n\nZedd clasped her hand and in so doing struck the agreement, accepting her word.\n\nWhen he had been First Wizard during the war with D'Hara, before he had put up the boundaries and killed Panis Rahl, Darken Rahl's father, if anyone had told him that he would someday make such an agreement with a Mord-Sith over something so important, he would have thought they were crazy. He was grateful that such things had changed for the better." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It's a complex route,\" Zedd told her.\n\nRikka arched an eyebrow. \"Have you ever had to come find me because I got lost patrolling the Keep?\"\n\nZedd realized that he hadn't. He knew very well how easy it was to become lost in the Keep. In fact, that was one of its defenses.\n\nIn several places when trying to travel through the Keep one came upon interconnected rooms numbering in the thousands. In those places there were no hallways except for the stairs going up or down. Passage through those three-dimensional mazes was necessary to get into several well protected areas. It was deceptively easy to become forever lost in the morass of those interconnected rooms. Even people who had grownup in the Keep could easily become lost in there.\n\nAn invader, unfamiliar with the place and if they went too deep into the labyrinth, faced a formidable challenge just to find their way back out, much less to make a passage all the way through, and then to escape. Once you had been through a few rooms, through a few doorways, it was amazing how similar everything looked. There were no windows to help and direction soon became meaningless. There was virtually noway to tell if you recalled seeing a room or a doorway before. One looked much like the last dozen you'd seen. There had been spies and such in the past who had become lost in the maze of rooms. In ages past it had not been entirely unusual to find a body in there.\n\nOf course, not all those who intended harm were strangers. In the past some had been traitors.\n\n\"No, I guess you never have become lost,\" Zedd finally agreed. \"Not yet, anyway. You've not been here long enough to begin to explore the majority of the place. There are dangers of every sort. Getting lost in the labyrinth that is the Keep is only one of the perils. Where we're going is like that. It's even easier to get lost down there. You will have to do your best to remember your way. I'll help you where I can.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rikka nodded, seemingly unconcerned. \"I'm good at remembering things like a series of turns. I memorize them when I patrol.\"\n\n\"Don't get overly confident. This is more complex than a series of turns. I myself have become lost in the Keep, and I grew up here. There is not only one right way to get where we're going. Sometimes the route you took the last time won't work this time because down in the lower reaches, of the Keep the shields sometimes shift by themselves to different passageways. It's part of their design to make it more difficult to go! through-for instance if a spy were to draw a map for their cohorts.\"\n\nUnimpressed, Rikka shrugged. \"I understand. The People's Palace is like that in some of the sections where the public isn't allowed-complex, with the open passages one can get through changing from time to time Additionally, there is no direct route to anywhere, even if all the passages happen to be open, which they never are.\"\n\n\"I remember; I was there before, although I was in the public sections, but that was confusing enough.\" It had been after Darken Rahl had captured Richard. \"I had the advantage, though, in that the People's Palace is made in the form of a spell drawn on the face of the ground and I know how that particular spell is constructed, so I know where the primary arms and the connecting links are located.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Rikka said, \"we had to be able to find different passages through the place so that we could get from area to area if it was ever invaded. Or, if we are chasing someone, we had to be able to think of away to get ahead of them. We have to be able to do more than simply remember a series of turns. We must comprehend the whole of the place we pass through. In my head the turns I take makeup parts of a picture of a place. Every turn adds to that picture. With that ever growing image in my mind I can find my way by taking a different way because I can see where the other parts are and how they lock together.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Zedd blinked in astonishment. \"That seems quite a remarkable talent.\"\n\n\"I always could understand that kind of thing better than I can understand people.\"\n\nZedd grunted a brief laugh. \"I think you understand people more than you admit to.\"\n\nShe only smiled.\n\n\"All right, now listen tome,\" he said. \"You will not only need to remember a great many turns this night. There is more. The only way to get where we are going is through a number of shields. You are not gifted so the only way for you to pass through those shields is fora gifted person to help get you through. If it ever becomes necessary, Richard can take you through them, like I will take you through tonight. But no matter how well you know the place, or how the shields shift, there is noway to get through without having to pass the shields, so you won't be able to get through alone. That means you won't be able to practice the route by yourself.\"\n\nHe shook a finger before her face to make his point. \"Don't even think lo try to force your way through the shields. To attempt to do so would be fatal.\"\n\nRikka nodded. \"I understand. I would have no reason to need to get through without you or Lord Rahl.\"\n\nZedd leaned even closer to her. \"On your word and your life.\"\n\n\"I have already given you my word and sworn it on my life. That is the way it will be.\"\n\nZedd closed the matter with a single nod. \"Good. Let's go.\"\n\nWith Rikka close at his heels, Zedd rushed down the narrow stone hall to the left, their way lit by the globe he carried. Glass spheres in brackets in the distance glowed faintly once coming into sight. As they passed them, each brightened at his approach and dimmed as he moved on with the one he had taken. At the first stairway they came to, Zedd took it up, knowing that to descend to his destination he first needed to traverse several impassable areas of the lower Keep by going higher." }, { "from": "human", "value": "They made their way down broad corridors lined with elegant wood paneling and patterned stone floors and then through several rooms that served as study areas outside nearby libraries." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The rooms had dozens of thick carpets scattered about at various angles among the comfortable chairs. There was ample table space, and there were a number of lamps to provide adequate light for reading. Zedd knew because he had spent a great deal of time reading books from the libraries.\n\nAfter passing through a series of plain stone halls that came from various parts of the Keep, they at last reached the main artery hallway in the section they had to pass through. The hall was nearly a hundred feel tall, with the sloping walls getting closer together at the top; it felt like walking through an immense cleft in the Keep. The sun was already down so the high slits in the stone did little to illuminate the hallway. They did, however, allow the bats out. livery night at dusk, thousands of the bats poured up from hidden, dark, damp places in the Keep and made their way out the high slits in the main hallway.\n\nAt a gilded doorway, Zedd turned to Rikka. \"This passage is shielded. Take my hand and you will be able to pass.\"\n\nShe didn't hesitate. Zedd went through the shield first. The shield produced a gentle tingling sensation against his skin along the plane of the opening. When he turned back toward her and pulled her hand through that plane of the shield at the doorway, she flinched.\n\n\"It won't hurt you as long as I hold onto you,\" he assured her. \"Shall I continue?\"\n\nShe nodded. \"It's just so cold. The feel of it surprised me, that's all.\"\n\nHolding her hand tightly, he drew her the rest of the way through the doorway. Once through she vigorously rubbed her arms.\n\n\"What would have happened had I tried to go through without you?\"\n\n\"It's hard to say, since different shields do different things, but let's just say that you wouldn't have made it through. This one has no preliminary warning field, so it may not be fatal. There area number of shields we will have to pass through that would take the flesh right off your bones. Those kind give ample warning, though.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She didn't look too. pleased to hear it, but she made no protest. Mord-Sith didn't like magic, so he knew she was putting in a great effort to suppress her natural resistance.\n\nThe gilded doorway led down a hall of white marble all around-the floors, walls, and ceiling. The white color was designed to prevent certain gambits of magic that used conjuring involving color to trick the shield at either end of the hall. At the far end, Zedd helped Rikka through the shield-this one using heat rather than cold.\n\nOnce clear of the hall, they went down several flights of dusty black marble steps. At the bottom of the steps he led her down the left of three forks. The sphere he carried provided a bubble of light around them as they raced through the roughly hewn stone tunnel that took them into simple rooms that were made of simple stone blocks.\n\nMost of the rooms had one or two doorways, but some had three, or even four openings that led to other rooms. Some were reached by going up a short flight of stairs to yet more rooms. A number of rooms were either up or down only a step or two. Most of the rooms, though, were level with one another. The sizes of the rooms varied little and not a single one had any furniture whatsoever. Some of the rooms were plastered to make I he walls smooth and a number of those were painted, although the chipped, peeling paint was so faded that the colors were barely discernible, leaving them all looking a similar dingy color, since dust had been settling in them for centuries. When Zedd had been a boy he had been lost in the maze of rooms for an entire day. The place was so undisturbed that there were still faint footprints evident in the fine dirt coating on the floors." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After going through a seemingly endless series of rooms, they finally emptied into abroad corridor of coarse, gray granite blocks. While the corridor was wide, the ceiling was so low that they had to bend down slightly so as not to bump their heads. It was a place that, while empty and simple looking, had always felt ominous to Zedd. Around a corner, iron brackets holding more of the glass spheres brightened as they passed, and then faded as they continued on. In several places utilitarian stone stairwells emptied into the low corridor. Several other taller halls branched off the main passageway.\n\nAt the end of the broad, low hall they finally entered a major passageway that was plastered and painted a sandy color. Reliefs of pillars were spaced down the passage, giving it a grander appearance. When they reached the middle, Zedd finally paused. He pointed up at the ceiling.\n\n\"See there, that iron grate overhead that lets the Keep breathe, lets fresh air down here?\"\n\nShe peered up at the ornate grate. \"Is that a book?\"\n\nWithin the design, crafted from the iron bars, was the outline of an open book. The design, intended as a quick visual reference, denoted a section of the Keep that contained a number of libraries.\n\n\"Yes. The grate will help you remember that this is where you must turn. This corridor with that grate above is a main trunk of passageways. There area number of ways down to this place, and from here you can go by various routes to nearly anywhere in the Keep, but here, under this grate, you must turn down this hall.\" He gestured toward a small hallway. \"It's the only way to get to where we are going.\"\n\nZedd watched her as she looked around at her surroundings and once more checked the grate overhead. When she was sure and had nodded, they started down a small side hall." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The hall contained a series of rooms that Zedd believed were once used for maintenance supplies. He knew that one of the rooms still had a number of tools. Beyond, at the end of the hall, were a few roughly constructed rooms made of stone followed by small, square passageways running oil in several directions. At the end of the center passageway, they came to a warren of short runs through low service shafts taking them on a winding route that changed levels by a few feet from time to time. They passed empty rooms and rusted iron doors that stood closed. Cobwebs clogged the shafts in places. In other places, sections of hall that were several feet lower held stagnant water. The rotting carcasses of rats floated in the fetid water. Without a word they waded through to reach higher ground beyond.\n\nWhen they reached a spiral stone staircase beyond the maze they descended into the inky darkness, the silent sphere bringing harsh light and shadows to places that had not been lit for years. The stairs were tiny, only large enough fora single body at a time to slip downward. It felt rather like being swallowed down the gullet of some stone monster.\n\nAt the bottom of the spiral stairs, the light cast harsh shadows down roughly cut passageways that were inspection shafts for part of the Keep's foundation. Flecks of quartz in stone foundation blocks the size of small palaces sparkled when the light fell across them. Zedd led Rikka to the narrow stairs that descended down beside the face of that glittering foundation wall. They both peered over the edge of that slit in the ground before starting down.\n\nAt the bottom they followed the narrow slit along the base of the foundation blocks. The stone rose up into the darkness, the sparkling quartz above looking like stars. To the right was a roughly cut wall of crumbling rock. If that softer wall were to collapse, they would be buried alive where no one would ever search for them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The foundation in this part of the Keep was kept clear of the soft surrounding rock so that it could move a little if it had to." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The foundation blocks had been set down into the harder bedrock below. The narrow slit also provided an areaway for inspection of the foundations. Zedd had always thought it remarkable that he had never found any block that was failing. There were some that had cracks, but those were said not to be structural problems. When they came to another narrow flight of stairs at the end of the slit, they again went down, deeper into the pitch black cut.\n\n\"Is there any end to this?\" Rikka asked.\n\nZedd looked back over his shoulder, the glowing sphere easting her fire in harsh yellow light. \"We're deep in the mountain and getting closer lo one of the side slopes. We still have quite a ways to go.\"\n\nShe simply nodded, resigned to however far it was.\n\n\"Do you think you can get this far-providing you have me or Richard lo get you through the shields?\"\n\nThere had been a number of shields, some that she had not liked going through. For one without the protection of the gift it was in places a very uncomfortable experience, even with Zedd helping her.\n\n\"I think so,\" she said.\n\nIn the lower inspection channels, they came to round, tile-lined tunnels that when need be also served as drains. Zedd entered the complex of tunnels, taking intersections that he remembered since he was a boy. Dripping water echoed through the passages. It was cold enough to see their breath in the humid air. Water dripped between the tiles in places, making the tunnel slick.\n\nAt various places, right in the middle of nowhere in the tunnels, they encountered powerful shields that he helped her pass through. Several were so strong that they gave off preliminary warnings long in advance. Zedd had to wrap his arms around her in order to protect her enough to get her safely through." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There's a lot of rats down here,\" Rikka said.\n\nZedd could hear them squeaking by the hundreds all through the honeycombed passageways. The little beasts seemed to scatter before the light could fully illuminate them, so they were in evidence by sound, not by sight, except the dead ones.\n\n\"Yes. Are you afraid of rats?\"\n\nShe halted and scowled at him. \"No one likes rats.\"\n\n\"Can't argue with you about that.\"\n\nAt each intersection Zedd pointed out to her the way they had to go. He couldn't imagine how she was ever going to remember the way. He hoped it never became necessary. He hoped to be the one to show Richard. As a boy Zedd had used tracers of magic to learn his way through. Rikka paid close attention and watched each of the dark intersections they came to. He was sure that it was more than she had bargained for and that she would not be able to remember her way. He thought that perhaps he would take her through several more times in order to help her get it all mapped out in her head. After that, he would test her and let her lead the way down.\n\nAfter what seemed like an endless journey working their way even lower, they finally entered a colossal room, an immense, cavelike chamber, that was hollowed out from the interior of the mountain. The granit quarried out of the mountain down in this place had provided some of the stone for the foundation. The quarry, abandoned after the construction was completed, had left behind the huge room.\n\nIn some places around the sides, the builders of the Keep had left[?? some] pillars of stone in place to holdup what they apparently had found to be weaker areas of the ceiling. In spots around the room there were broad veins of obsidian, a black, glassy rock that was unsuitable for building material. Zedd had seen it used in a few places in the palace, mostly for decoration. In the glow of the light from the sphere, the surface of the obsidian showed the shiny curved arcs left by being chipped away with chisels, leaving it looking like dazzling fish scales." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The center of the gigantic room, where the rock was the hardest, was vaulted to a height of over two hundred and fifty feet. From the stone evidence, it appeared that the workers had started at the top, taking out huge blocks of stone right under what was the present ceiling. They then began quarrying the next lower level of rock until they eventually had hollowed out the cavelike room. The different levels of galleries around the side were just tall enough, and just wide enough between the large square columns, for the foundation blocks to be hauled though. Beyond the room were ramps where the blocks had been eased down to the lower parts of the foundation.\n\n\"See there, across the room?\" Zedd asked, pointing at an enormous, dark corridor to which he knew the surrounding ramps led. \"That was constructed first. It's the main channel where the foundation blocks were transported from this room to the foundation all along that section of the Keep. Look at how the floor is worn by the work.\"\n\nThe floor leading into the yawning dark chasm was worn so smooth that it almost looked as if it had been polished.\n\n\"Why didn't we come that way-it would have been a much shorter route.\"\n\nHe was impressed that she realized that the primary passageway ran in the direction from which they had come. The stone blocks for the foundation would not have taken the circuitous route they had.\n\n\"You're right, it would have been shorter, but there are shields there that I can't pass. Since I can't get in there, because of those shields, I don't know what is in there, but I suspect that the builders probably created rooms in there that contain things that must be protected. I can't really think of any other reason for those shields.\"\n\n\"Why can't you pass them? You are First Wizard.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The wizards of that time had both sides of the gift. Richard is the first in thousands of years to be born with the Subtractive side as well as the Additive. Shields with Subtractive Magic are deadly and are typically reserved for the most dangerous places, or the places that have exceptionally important items they were most concerned about protecting\"\n\nZedd led Rikka across the vast room by a route that kept them close to the outer wall. He rarely came down to this room and so he had to watch the stonewall carefully as they made their way around. When they reached the place he was looking for, he snatched Rikka's arm and pulled her to a stop.\n\n\"This is it.\"\n\nRikka blinked as she looked around. To the inexperienced eye, it looked the same as the rest of the room. \"This is what?\"\n\n\"The secret place.\"\n\nIt looked like the rest of the huge room. Everywhere the walls were scarred with the gouges left by tools used by workers thousands of years before.\n\nZedd held up the glass sphere so she could see where he pointed. \"Here. See that gouge up high? The one going at this angle, following the fissure, and a little fatter in the middle? Slip your left hand into it. There's a cleft in the back of the gouge, deeper into the fissure.\"\n\nRikka frowned at him but then stood on her tiptoes and slid her hand into the grove up to her knuckles.\n\n\"There's a lip in the rock down here,\" he said. \"I used it when I was smaller. If you can't reach, step upon the edge.\"\n\n\"No, I got it,\" she said. \"Now what?\"\n\n\"You're only halfway in. Put your hand in deeper.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She wiggled her fingers and worked her hand in farther until it was in up to her wrist. \"That's as far as it will go. It's solid where my fingertips are.\"\n\n\"Move your longest linger up and down until you find a hole.\"\n\nShe made a face as she worked her fingers. \"Got it.\"\n\nZedd took her right hand and guided it into a similar gouge in another part of the same fissure down at waist level. \"Find a hole in the back of this one as well. When you do, push a finger firmly into both holes.\"\n\nShe made a little sound deep in her throat with the effort. \"Found it! I've got them both. I'm pushing.\"\n\n\"All right, now, as you push with both fingers, put your right foot up here, on the wall right on the other side of this chink, and give it a good shove.\"\n\nShe frowned at him, but did as he said. Nothing happened.\n\n\"Can't you push any harder than that? Don't tell me that you aren't as strong as a skinny old man.\"\n\nShe shot him a scowl and then used her grip in the handholds for leverage as she grunted with effort and gave the wall a good shove with her boot. Suddenly, the face of the rock began moving away. Zedd urged Rikka to step back. They both watched as a section of the wall silently slid back as if it were a massive door, which was exactly what it was. Despite its monumental weight, it was so perfectly balanced that once the two finger latches were released, it pivoted with nothing more than a stout shove.\n\n\"Dear spirits,\" Rikka whispered as she leaned toward the opening and peered into the dark maw. \"How did you ever find such a place?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I found it as a child. Actually, I found the other end. Once I came through into here, I knew where this spot was and I took careful note so that I was able to find it again. The first few times I couldn't find it, so I had to come through again.\"\n\n\"Well, what is it?\"\n\n\"When I was a boy, it was my salvation. It was the way I was able to sneak back into the Keep without having to come across the bridge and in the front, like everyone else.\"\n\nShe suspiciously arched an eyebrow. \"You must have been a troublesome child.\"\n\nZedd smiled. \"I have to admit that there were those who would agree with that. This place served me well. I was also able to get inhere when the Sisters of the Dark had taken the Keep. They only knew to guard the front entrance. They, like everyone else alive, didn't know this place existed.\"\n\n\"So this is what you wanted to show me? A secret way into the Keep?\"\n\n\"No, that's by far the least important or remarkable thing about this place. Come on and I'll show you.\"\n\nHer suspicion flared again. \"Just what kind of place is it'?\"\n\nZedd held up the sphere of light as he leaned toward her and whispered.\n\n\"Beyond is eternal night: the passage of the dead.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The distant howl of a wolf woke Richard from a dead sleep. The forlorn cry echoed through the mountains, but went unanswered. Richard lay on his side, in the surreal light of false dawn, idly listening, waiting, fora return cry that never came.\n\nTry as he might, he couldn't seem to open his eyes for longer than the span of a single, slow heartbeat, much less gather the energy to lift his head. Shadowy tree limbs appeared to move about in the murky darkness,\n\nRichard gasped as he fully awoke. He awoke angry.\n\nHe was lying on his back. His sword lay across his chest, one hand clutching the scabbard, the other gripping the hilt so hard that the letters of the word truth were pressed painfully into his palm on one side and his fingertips on the other. The Sword of Truth was pulled partway out of its scabbard. Its anger, too, had partly slipped its bounds.\n\nThe first, faint traces of dawn were just beginning to silently steal through the forested mountainside. The thick woods were quiet and still.\n\nRichard slid the blade back into its scabbard and sat up, laying the sword down beside him on his bedroll.\n\nHe drew his legs up and put his elbows on his knees as he ran his fingers back through his hair. His heart still raced from the sword's rage. It had stolen into him without his conscious awareness or direction, but he wasn't surprised or alarmed. It was hardly the first time he had begun to draw the sword as he'd remembered that fateful morning while slipping the bonds of sleep. Sometimes he woke to find that he'd pulled the blade completely free.\n\nWhy did he keep having that memory as he awoke?\n\nHe knew all too well the reason. That was the morning he had awakened to find Kahlan missing. It was the terrible memory of the morning she'd disappeared. It was awaking nightmare about the nightmare that had become his life, and yet, he knew that there was something about it that kept making it go through his mind. He had been over it a thousand times but he couldn't figure out what was so meaningful about that particular memory. The wolf waking him had been a bit odd, but that didn't seem so strange that it would keep haunting him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard looked around in the deep gloom but he didn't see Cara. Off through the thick stands of trees he could just make out the faint stain of red streaking the rim of the eastern sky. The slash of color almost looked like blood seeping through a gash in the slate black sky beyond the perfectly still trees.\n\nHe was bone-weary from the relentless pace of their wild ride up from deep in the Old World. They had been stopped a number of times by patrolling soldiers scattered throughout the Midlands, and by occupying troops. It was by no means the main force of the Imperial Order, but they had been trouble enough. Once they'd let Cara and Richard, posing as a stone carver and his wife, goon their way to a job Richard had invented for the glory of the Order. The rest of the times the two of them had had to fight their way out of the situation. Those encounters had been bloody.\n\nHe needed more sleep-they had gotten very little on their journey-but as long as Kahlan was missing they couldn't afford to sleep anymore than was absolutely necessary. He didn't know how much time he had to find her, but he didn't intend to waste any of it. He refused to believe that his time had long since run out.\n\nOne of the horses had died of exhaustion not long ago; he couldn't remember exactly when. Another had come up lame awhile back and they'd had to abandon it. Richard would worry about finding more horses later. There were more important concerns at hand. They were close to Agaden Reach, Shota's home. For the last two days they had been climbing steadily into the formidable mountains that ringed the Reach.\n\nAshe stretched his aching, tired muscles, he again tried to think of how he would convince Shota to help him. She had helped him before, but that was no guarantee she would help him this time. Shota could be difficult, to say the least. There were people who were so terrified of the witch woman that they wouldn't even say her name aloud." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Zedd had told him once that Shota never told you anything you wanted to know without also telling you something that you didn't want to know. Richard couldn't really imagine what he didn't want to know, but he understood quite clearly what it was he did want to know and he intended Shota to tell him anything she knew about Kahlan's disappearance of where she might be. If Shota refused, there was going to be trouble.\n\nAs his anger heated he realized that he felt the cool, tingling touch of mist on his face.\n\nIt was then that he also noticed something moving in the trees.\n\nHe squinted in an effort to see in the darkness. It couldn't be the breeze moving the leaves; there was no wind in the silent predawn woods.\n\nShadowy tree limbs appeared to move about in the murky darkness.\n\nThere had been no wind at all that morning, either.\n\nRichard's sense of alarm rose to match his heart rate. He stood in his bedroll.\n\nSomething was slipping through the trees.\n\nIt wasn't disturbing the branches or brush the way a person or an animal would. It was higher up, maybe at eye level. There simply wasn't enough light for him to see what it was. As dark and still as the morning was, though, he couldn't be certain that there really was something there. It might have been his imagination; being this close to Shota certainly was enough to make him uneasy. While she might have helped him in the past, she had also caused him no end of trouble.\n\nBut if nothing was therein the trees, then why was his skin tingling with dread? And what was the almost imperceptible sound he heard, like a soft hiss?\n\nWithout taking his eyes off the dark woods, Richard reached out and put his fingertips against a nearby spruce for balance as he carefully squatted down enough to pickup his sword from where it lay on the bedroll. Ashe quietly slipped the baldric over his head, he tried to focus his eyes in the darkness out ahead of him to see what, if anything, was moving. Whatever was moving, it couldn't be much, yet he was more and more convinced by the moment that it really was something." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The most disconcerting aspect of it was the way it moved. It didn't move in short bursts, like a bird flitting from branch to branch, or in rapid start-and-stop spirts like a squirrel. It didn't even move with the stealth of a snake that glided, then paused, then glided some more.\n\nThis moved not only fluidly and quietly, but continuously.\n\nThe horses, off through the trees in a corral Richard had constructed by using saplings to fence off the end of a narrow chasm, snorted and stumped their hooves. A flock of birds in the distance suddenly burst from their roost and took towing.\n\nFor the first time, Richard realized that the cicadas were silent.\n\nRichard detected the faint scent of something out of place in the forest. Carefully, quietly, he sniffed the air, trying to place the scent. He thought it might be a whiff of something burning. The odor wasn't anywhere near as strong as afire would be. It almost smelled like a campfire, but they had no campfire; Richard hadn't wanted to take the time or to chance attracting attention. Cara had a lantern with alight shield around it, but it didn't smell like the lantern flame.\n\nHe scanned the woods all around, checking for Cara. She was on watch so she was probably nearby, but Richard didn't see her anywhere. Surely she wouldn't have gone far, especially not after the attack the morning Kahlan had disappeared. She was all too worried about his safety and knew that this time, if he was shot with an arrow, there would be no Nicci to save his life. No, Cara would be close.\n\nHis instinct was to call out for her, but he suppressed the urge. He first wanted to find out what was happening, to find out what was wrong, before he called out an alarm; an alarm would also alert any adversary that he was already aware of them. It was better to let an opponent, especially an opponent sneaking upon you, believe that they had not been detected." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ashe studied the surrounding area, Richard thought that there was something not right about the woods. He couldn't put his finger on it, but they looked wrong. He supposed that he had that impression in part because of the curious burning smell. It was still too dark to be able to see anything clearly, but from what he was able to see, the branches didn't seem to look right. There was something odd about the pine boughs, the leaves. They didn't seem to be hanging naturally.\n\nHe remembered all too well coming to Agaden Reach the first time. Farther back down the mountains he had been attacked by some strange creature. Ashe had been frantically fighting it off, Shota had snatched Kahlan and taken her down into the Reach. That attack had been in the guise of a stranger trying to lead him to an ambush. The creature had finally been frightened off. And, this time there was no such stranger. Still, that didn't mean that such a creature, having failed before, might not this time try a different approach. He remembered, too, that his sword has been all that had kept the monstrous thing at bay.\n\nAs quietly as possible, Richard slowly drew his sword from its sheath. In an attempt to keep it from making any noise, he pinched the sides of the blade right at the throat of the scabbard, letting the steel slide between his finger and thumb as it slipped out of the scabbard. Even so, the blade hissed ever so softly as it came free. The sword's rage, too, slipped its bounds.\n\nAshe steadily drew his sword, he began cautiously moving toward the spot where he thought he saw movement. Whenever he was looking elsewhere, he thought that out of the corner of his eye he could see a faint shape of something ahead of him, but when he then looked directly at the place, he couldn't see anything. He didn't know if it was a trick of his sight, or if there was nothing to see." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He was well aware that in dark conditions the center of the eyes' vision was not nearly as good as the peripheral vision. Being a guide and having spent a great deal of time outdoors at night, he had often used the technique of not looking directly at what it was that he needed to see, but instead gazing at least fifteen degrees away from it. At night, the peripheral vision worked better than direct vision. Since leaving his woods where he had been a guide, he had learned that the knack of focusing his awareness to specific places in his peripheral vision while not turning his eyes there was invaluable in sword fighting.\n\nBefore he had gone three steps, his pant leg came up against something that shouldn't have been there. It was alight contact, almost like a low branch. He halted immediately, before putting any pressure on it. He smelled something again, only stronger. It smelled like scorched cloth.\n\nHe then felt the intense heat against his shin. Quickly, and without making a sound, he drew back.\n\nFor the life of him, Richard could not figure out what it was he had touched. It was not anything natural that he could think of. He might have suspected that it was a tripwire of some sort to warn anyone hidden in the trees nearby if he moved, but a tripwire wouldn't burn him the way this thing had.\n\nWhatever it was, it pulled at his pants, like it was sticky, when he drew away. When he backed free of it, the sleek movement in the trees abruptly halted, as if it had detected the contact against his pant leg being broken. The dead silence ringing in his ears was almost painful.\n\nThe mist was too fine to make any sound hitting the leaves and the moisture that the pine needles combed from the damp air was not enough id collect and drip very much. Besides, the sound he had heard had been something different than rainwater. Richard focused his concentration into the dark shadows, trying to make out what it was that had stopped moving." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then, it started in again, only more rapidly, as if with more purpose. The soft, silky sound whispering among the limbs of the trees in away that reminded him of the blade of an ice skate gliding across smooth ice.\n\nAs Richard backed away, something caught his other pant leg. It was sticky, just like the thing that he'd snagged before. It too, felt hot.\n\nAshe turned to see what it was that was against his pant leg, something brushed his arm, just above his elbow. He didn't have on a shirt, and the instant the sticky thing touched him it burned into his flesh. He jerked his arm back and then stepped away from the thing touching his pant leg. With the hand holding the sword, he silently comforted the searing pain on his left arm. Warm blood ran down over his fingers. His anger, and the anger flooding into him from the sword, together threatened to overpower his sense of caution.\n\nHe turned around, trying to see in the darkness what was there that should not be there. The razor-thin red slash of light at the horizon glinted off his blade as he turned, making the polished metal look like it was coated in blood to match the very real blood covering his hand on the hilt.\n\nThe shadows around him were beginning to pull inward toward him. Whatever it was, as it moved closer it caught limbs and boughs all around him, gently pushing leaves and brush aside as it advanced. Richard suspected that the soft hissing sound he heard was actually the sound of vegetation being scorched when it was touched. The smell of burning leaves he had first detected began to make sense to him; he just didn't have any idea what could be causing it, or how. He would doubt his judgment, doubt that such a thing could be real, were it not for the fierce burning pain of its touch. He certainly wasn't imagining the blood running down his arm." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Instinctively, Richard knew that he was running out of time." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard swiftly, but silently, raised the sword before himself in preparation for an attack-what kind of attack he wasn't sure, but he fully intended to be ready. He touched the cold steel of the blade to his sweat-slick forehead.\n\nHe spoke the words'Blade be true this day\" in a softly inaudible whisper, fully committing himself and his sword to whatever was necessary.\n\nA few fat drops of rain splashed against his bare chest. At first sporadic, the fitful rain gradually began to increase a bit. The soft whispering sound of raindrops against the thick canopy of leaves began to spread through the quiet of the woods. Richard blinked drops of water from his eyelashes.\n\nAt the sound of the limbs moving, he then heard the sudden rush of footsteps starting to run toward him. He recognized Cara's unique gait. Apparently, she had been patrolling around the perimeter of their campsite and had heard the same sounds as he had. Knowing Cara, he wasn't in the least surprised that she had been paying close attention.\n\nBut under the cover of the sound of the rain, all around him, Richard could hear branches and limbs slowly pulling past one another. Here and there a few small twigs snapped as something drew in closer all around him. Something touched his left arm. He flinched backed a step, pulling his arm away from the gummy contact. The burn throbbed painfully. Warm blood now trickled down his arm in two places. He felt something catch the back of his pant leg. He tugged his leg away from the sticky contact.\n\nCara crashed through the trees not faraway. Subtle, she was not. She threw open a small door on the shield around the lantern she carried, letting a weak beam of light fall across the campsite." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard was able to see what he thought looked like a strange, dark web of something crisscrossed all around him, woven through trees, shrubs, limbs, and brush. It looked like thick cords of some sort, but organic and gummy, he couldn't imagine what it was or exactly how it had gotten itself everywhere around him.\n\n\"Lord Rahl! Are you all right?\"\n\n\"Yes. Stay where you are.\"\n\n\"What's going on?\"\n\n\"I'm not sure, yet.\"\n\nThe sound came closer as the still, dark strands all around him again began to draw tighter. One of them pressed against his back. He flinched away, spun, and slashed with the sword.\n\nAs soon as he cut it, the whole of the tangle all around him tensed and contracted in toward him.\n\nCara threw open the entire shield around the lantern, hoping to see better. Richard could suddenly see that the glistening threads were nearly cocooning him. He even saw lines of the stuff crisscrossing overhead. As close in as it all was, he was running out of clear space to maneuver.\n\nWith a flash of comprehension, he understood the silken sound he had heard at first. The fluid, continuous movement was something spinning the filaments around him as if he were a meal fora spider. These filaments, though, were as thick as his wrist. What exactly they were, he had no idea. What he did know was that when they had touched him, sticking to his pant leg, his left arm, and his back, they delivered painful burns.\n\nHe could see Cara and her lantern as she dodged this way and that, looking fora way to get through to him.\n\n\"Cara, stay back! It will burn you if you touch it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Burn?\"\n\n\"Yes, like acid, I think. And, it's sticky. Keep away from it or you're liable to get caught in it.\"\n\n\"Then how are you to get out of the middle of it?\"\n\n\"I'll just have to cut my way out. You stay there and let me come to you.\"\n\nWhen the strands pulled in tighter to the left side, he finally swung the sword and struck out at them. The blade flashed in the light of Cara's lantern, slashing through the enveloping tangle of sticky fibers. As they were parted by the blade, they whipped around as if they'd been undo tension. Some stuck to trees or limbs, hanging down like murky moss. In the light of the lantern, he could seethe leaves shrivel up, evidently from being burned when they were touched by the strands.\n\nWhatever was creating the webs of the stuff, Richard didn't see it.\n\nThe rain began to comedown a little harder as Cara darted from side to side, trying to find away in. \"I think I can-\"\n\n\"No!\" he yelled at her. \"I told you-keep away from it!\"\n\nRichard swung the sword at the thick, dark ropes wherever they drew in toward him, trying to check their constriction and weaken their integrity, but he was forced not to do so unless he had no choice because the sticky strands were beginning to cling to the blade.\n\n\"I need to help you stop this thing!\" she called back, impatient to set him free.\n\n\"You'll just get caught up in it. If you do that, then you can be of no help tome. Stay back. I told you, let me cut my way out and come to you.\"\n\nThat, at least, looked to have finally dissuaded her from any immediate attempt to try to fight her way through. She stood half crouched, lips pressed tight in frustrated fury, Agiel in her fist, not knowing what to do-not wanting to go against what he told her and realizing the sense of what he'd said-but at the same time not wanting him to have to fight his way out all by himself." }, { "from": "human", "value": "It was a strange, confounding, nonviolent kind of battle." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There looked to be no rush. The gashes he inflicted didn't seem to cause the thing any pain. The slow, inexorable approach of the surrounding tangle seemed to be trying to lull him into holding back, inasmuch as there appeared to be plenty of time to analyze the situation.\n\nDespite that quiet appearance, that deceptive calm, Richard found the implacable advance of the surrounding trap alarming in the extreme. Not wanting to give into that appeal to inaction, Richard swung the sword again, driving into the walls of the tangled web.\n\nHe could see more of the strands appearing in the woods all around him even as he tried to fight his way through it. It was reinforcing itself, adding a backdrop even as he slashed the part closest to him. For every dozen strands he cut, two dozen more enfolded him. He kept scanning the forest, trying to see what was creating the growing entanglement so that he could attack the cause and not the result. Try as he might, he couldn't see a lead end or what was spinning the morass, but the viscous ropes of it were moving swiftly through the trees and brush, the strands lengthening and multiplying all the time, endlessly adding to and forming more of themselves all around him.\n\nEven though it seemed like he had ample time to figure away out, he knew that such a notion was a fool's empty hope. He was well aware that his time was swiftly running out. His level of alarm rose steadily. His burned flesh throbbed in pain, reminding him of what fate awaited him if he didn't get out. There would come a point, he knew, when action would no longer be possible. He knew that once the intricate trap contracted enough, he would die, but he doubted that it would be a quick death.\n\nAs the net reinforced itself around him and moved inward, Richard attacked, slashing furiously, making a mad effort to hack his way through the tightening entrapment. Every time he swung the sword, though, the blade was further ensnared in the tacky substance that made up the strands. The more of it he cut, the more of it stuck to what was already clinging tenaciously to his sword. The unwieldy mass was getting heavy and making it evermore difficult to cut through the wall." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ashe tried to hack and slash his way through, a knot of the filaments not only continued to tangle together in a clotted mass around his blade, but began to adhere to the wall of the trap, making it a formidable task just to move the sword. He felt like a fly caught in a spiderweb. It took a mighty effort to pull the sword away from the wall of the strands. They, in turn, sticking to the sword, stretched and pulled away in gummy strings.\n\nThis was the first time that Richard had ever encountered an adversary of any sort that gave the sword such difficulty. He had cut through armor andiron bars with it, but this sticky substance, even though it yielded to being cut, simply fell away and stuck to everything.\n\nHe remembered Adie once asking him which he thought was stronger, teeth or tongue. She had made the point that the tongue was stronger, even though it was much softer, and would endure long after the teeth gave out. Although it was in a different context, it had a frightening significance in this instance as well.\n\nSome of the gooey strings stretched out and stuck to his pant legs. Ashe pulled his sword back, a string fell across his right arm. He cried out in pain and dropped to his knees.\n\n\"Lord Rahl!\"\n\n\"Stay there!\" he called before Cara had a chance to try again to reach him. \"I'm all right. Just stay where you are.\"\n\nSnatching up a handful of leaves, bark, and dirt, he used the debris lo protect his hand as he pulled the dark, clinging substance from his arm.\n\nThe searing pain caused him to nearly forget everything else except getting it off.\n\nAs the surrounding fibrous structure drew tighter, the thick strands pulled small saplings over. Branches snapped. Limbs were torn from trees. The woods were filled with a pungent, burning smell." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Even with the fury of the sword storming up through him, pulling his anger forth, Richard realized that he was losing the battle. Wherever he cut it, a great many of those cut strands fell back to stick together with others and close the gap. Despite his cutting through the snarled mass of the webs, the net only tangled together and stuck to itself, creating an evermore tightly woven web.\n\nHis calm frustration began to give way to the panicked realization that he was trapped. That fear powered his muscles as he put all his effort into swinging his sword. He could imagine the strange, dark mass miring him, burning his flesh, congealing as it enfolded itself around him, eventually to suffocate him if it didn't first kill him by scorching the flesh off his bones.\n\nWith all his might Richard brought the sword down over and over, slashing through a wall of the stuff. More strands beyond those he cut caught up the ones he had severed as they whipped around and fell back. The ones he cut only served to crossover strands beyond and reinforce them. He was not simply failing, but in so doing helping to strengthen his executioner.\n\n\"Lord Rahl-I need to get to you.\"\n\nCara clearly understood the deadly nature of the threat he was under and wanted to find away to help get him out of the trouble. And, like him, she didn't really have any idea what to do.\n\n\"Cara, listen tome. If you get tangled in it, you'll die. Stay away from it-and whatever you do, don't touch it with your Agiel. I'll figure something out.\"\n\n\"Then hurry up and do it before it's too late.\"\n\nAs if he wasn't trying. \"Just give me a minute to think.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Advance the story as the writer's narrative assistant.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, amnesia\nAuthor: Terry Goodkind\nTitle: Chainfire\nChapter: 66" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Zedd's hazel eyes turned up." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is a Chainfire event?\"\n\n\"The end of the world as we know it,\" Richard said with grim finality. \"What they were doing turned out to inadvertently involve an attempt to create a contradiction, violating the Ninth Rule. They finally realized that if anyone ever actually undertook to initiate a Chainfire event, it would have cataclysmic consequences.\"\n\nNathan frowned at Nicci, apparently hoping fora little more wisdom and experience from a former Sister. \"What is he talking about?\"\n\n\"Wizards in ancient times came up with anew theory on how to alter memory with Subtractive power, with all the resulting disconnected parts spontaneously reconstructed independently of one another-the creation of erroneous memory to fill in the voids that had been destroyed. They were studying the theory of how to make an individual disappear to everyone else by making people forget this person, even as soon as they've just seen them. Even as they look at them.\n\n\"It unravels people's memory of the subject, but it was discovered that the ignition of such an event starts a cascade that can't be predicted or controlled. Much like a wildfire, it continues to burn through links with others whose memory has not been altered. It eventually unravels the world of life itself.\"\n\n\"And the prophecy worm?\" Richard asked. \"It maybe real, but the cause of the prophecy vanishing this time is Chainfire. As part of the process, the person who initiates the event also fills in avoid in prophecy, a place left blank by a prophet for future work. This gap is filled in with a completing prophecy which has the Chainfire formula invested in it. A Chainfire event thus infects and consumes all the associated prophecy on the branch, starting with related prophecy, either in subject or in chronology-in this case both: Kahlan. Thus, she is also wiped out of prophecy by what is called the Chainfire corollary.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Nathan sat down heavily." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Dear spirits.\"\n\nAnn, hands in her opposite sleeves, did not look pleased or impressed. \" All well and good, and we will have to study this book and see if anything you've come up with even begins to make sense.\n\n\"But that book is not the immediate problem.\n\n\"You should have stayed with our men. You must lead our troops in the final battle. You must return at once. Prophecy is quite clear. Prophecy says that if you fail to do this, the world will fall under the shadow.\"\n\nRichard ignored Ann and met his grandfather's gaze. \"Guess what the counter is to a Chainfire event.\"\n\nZedd shrugged, looking puzzled by Richard's line of questioning. \"How would I know?\"\n\n\"There is only one. It was created specifically for this purpose.\"\n\n\"What was?\" Zedd asked.\n\n\"The boxes of Orden.\"\n\nZedd's mouth fell open. \"Richard, that just isn't-\"\n\nRichard reached into his pocket and pulled out what he had brought. He slammed it down on the table before the three of them.\n\nZedd's eyes went wide. \"Bags, Richard, that's a snake vine.\"\n\n\"You may recall from The Book of Counted Shadows: And when the three boxes of Orden are put into play, the snake vine shall grow.\"\n\n\"But, but,\" Zedd stammered, \"the boxes of Orden are in the Garden of Life, in the People's Palace, under incredibly heavy guard.\"\n\n\"Not only that,\" Nathan put in, \"but I personally equipped the men of the First File with weapons that are deadly even against the gifted. No one could get in there.\"\n\n\"I agree,\" Zedd insisted. \"It's impossible.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard turned and carefully took what Cara had been carrying. He gently set the statue of Spirit down so that the figure was facing the three on the other side of the table, as if she were holding her head high in opposition to their efforts to make her a delusion.\n\n\"This is Kahlan's. She left it there, in the Garden of Life, in place of the boxes, so that someone would know she exists. The Chainfire spell erased her from everyone's memory. Those who see her forget her before she even registers in their minds.\"\n\nAnn waved a handover the book, the vine, and the statue. \"But this, this, this is all still conjecture, Richard. Who in the world could even have dreamed up such a plot?\"\n\n\"Sister Ulicia hatched the plan,\" Nicci said. \"She had Sisters Cecilia, Armina, and Tovi with her.\"\n\nAnn frowned. \"How do you know this?\"\n\n\"Tovi confessed tome.\"\n\nAnn looked more than astonished. \"Confessed... Why would she do such a thing? How did you even catch her?\"\n\n\"She was fleeing with one of the boxes of Orden.\" Richard said. \"She was ambushed by the man I gave the Sword of Truth to. He stabbed her and stole the box of Orden she was carrying.\"\n\nZedd slapped his forehead, unable to speak, and thumped down into his chair.\n\n\"Tovi also told me,\" Nicci said, \" that they were here, in Aydindril, and planted that corpse in the Mother Confessor's grave to make sure no one believed Richard, should he happen to try digging it up to convince people he was telling the truth. They got the dress out of the Confessors\" Palace. They wanted to make sure everyone thought Richard was deluded." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Regarding that, I think you should also know that we traveled to the ruins of a city called Caska, down in southern D'Hara. Imperial Order scouts were there. I conducted an experiment on one of them. I used the Subtractive spell all of you wanted me to use to'cure' Richard of his supposed delusions.\"\n\nAnn cautiously cocked her head. \"And?\"\n\n\"He didn't live more than a few moments.\"\n\nZedd, nearly as white now as his unruly hair, put his face in his hands.\n\n\"I'm sure that some of this will prove quite... useful,\" Ann said, looking rather confused, \" and it's good that you have uncovered it. But as I said, the fact remains that you need to be with our troops, Richard. We revealed to you that vitally important prophecy: \"If fuer grissa ost drauka does not lead this final battle, then the world, already standing at the brink of darkness, will fall under that terrible shadow.\"\n\n\"These other matters you bring up are intriguing, to be sure, but the prophecy remains our most important mission. We simply can't fail or the world will fall under the shadow.\"\n\nRichard gripped his temples between his thumb and second finger as he looked down, trying to gather patience. He reminded himself that these people were trying to do what was right.\n\nHe looked up, meeting their gazes. \"Don't you see?\" He pointed at the snake vine on the table. \" This is the final battle. The Sisters of the Dark have put the boxes of Orden in play. They intend to bring the Keeper of the dead into the world of the living. They intend to give life over to death in a bid to gain immortality for themselves. The world stands at the brink of darkness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Don't you see? If you three had had your way, bent on enforcing prophecy, and tried to live bywords you believed to be foreordained, I would not have survived the attempt to'cure' me. I would be dead. In attempting to fulfill prophecy, you would have insured the success of the Sisters of the Dark, and the end of all life. The world of life would have ended because of you.\n\n\"Only freewill-Nicci's freewill, my freewill-has prevented what you three would have brought upon mankind in following your blind faith in prophecy.\"\n\nAnn, the last one standing, dropped into her chair.\n\n\"Dear spirits, he's right,\" Zedd whispered to himself. \"The Seeker has just saved three old fools from themselves.\"\n\n\"No. None of you are fools,\" Richard said. \" We all can do foolish things from time to time by not thinking. The thing to do then is to recognize a mistake and not repeat it. Learn from it. Don't allow yourself to fail the next time. I'm not hereto tell you that you are fools, because I know you're not. I'm here because I need your help. I want you to start using your minds. You are all brilliant in your own way. You each have knowledge that probably no one else alive has.\n\n\"The woman I love, the woman I'm married to, has been kidnapped by Sisters of the Dark and had a Chainfire event unleashed on her life. That event is now burning through the lives of everyone who knew her and will eventually consume everyone living.\"\n\nHe gestured to the statue of Spirit. \" I carved that of your granddaughter's spirit, Zedd. It was precious to her. She left it there, on that stone altar, covered in her blood. I want her back." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I need help. Neither Nicci nor Cara remembers Kahlan, but they both know the truth of the fact that they don't remember her because of what's in this book, Chainfire, not because she doesn't exist. You all lost something incredibly precious when your memory of Kahlan was taken from you. You lost a value in your lives that you could not begin to replace. You lost one of the best...\"\n\nRichard had to stop because he couldn't get the words past the constriction in his throat. Tears dripped from his face onto the table.\n\nNicci came close and put a hand on his shoulder. \"It will be all right, Richard. We'll get her back.\"\n\nCara laid a hand on his other shoulder. \"That's right, Lord Rahl. We'll get her back.\"\n\nRichard nodded, unable to speak as his chin trembled.\n\nZedd rose up. \"Richard, I hope you don't think we will fail you again. We won't. You have my word as First Wizard.\"\n\n\"I'd rather have your word as my grandfather.\"\n\nZedd smiled through his own tears. \"That, too, my boy. That, too.\"\n\nNathan shot to his feet. \"My sword's in play as well, my boy.\"\n\nAnn scowled at him. \"Your sword is in play? What in the world does that mean?\"\n\n\"Well, you know,\" Nathan said, swirling his hand in a display of cut and thrust. \"It means I will fight the good fight.\"\n\n\"The good fight? How about if you help us find Kahlan.\"\n\n\"Well, bags, woman-\"\n\nAnn shot a look at Zedd. \"Did you teach him to talk like that? He never cursed like that before he spent time with you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Zedd shrugged innocently. \"My goodness, no. Not me.\"\n\nAnn scowled at the wizard on each side of her before looking at Richard and smiling.\n\n\"I remember when you were firstborn, Richard. When you were a bundle of life in your mother's arms. She was so proud of you then just for being able to cry. Well, I guess she'd be pretty proud of you now. We all are, Richard.\"\n\nZedd wiped his nose on his sleeve. \"How true.\"\n\n\"If you can forgive us,\" Ann said, \"we'd like to be apart of stopping this threat. I, for one, am quite keen to take care of those Sisters.\"\n\nNicci squeezed Richard's shoulder. \"I think you may have a fight on your hands over that. I think we'd all like to be the one to get at them.\"\n\nCara leaned past Richard. \"Sure, easy for you to say. You got to kill Sister Tovi.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard stood at the crenellation in the rampart, one foot resting on the low stone, gazing out across the sunlit scene of Aydindril down below the mountain, watching the puffy white clouds parade their shadows across the valley.\n\nZedd came up from behind and stood beside Richard, and fora time also watched out in silence.\n\n\"I can't remember Kahlan,\" he finally said. \"Try as I might, I just can't.\"\n\n\"I know,\" Richard answered without looking over.\n\n\"But for her to be your wife, she must be a remarkable woman.\"\n\nRichard couldn't help smiling. \"She is that.\"\n\nZedd laid a bony hand on Richard's shoulder. \"We'll find her, my boy. I'm going to help you. We're going to find her. I promise you that.\"\n\nGrinning, Richard put his arm around his grandfather's shoulders. \"Thanks, Zedd. I could surely use the help.\"\n\nZedd held up a finger. \"We'll get started right away.\"\n\n\"Right away would suit me,\" Richard told him. \"I'm going to need to get me a sword, too.\"\n\n\"Ah, well, the sword isn't important. The sword is just a tool. The Seeker is the weapon, and I'd say you are still the Seeker.\"\n\n\"About that, Zedd. You know, I've been thinking, and I've come to believe that maybe Shota wasn't acting selfishly by demanding the sword in exchange for what she told me.\"\n\n\"How do you figure that?\"\n\n\"Well, the Sword of Truth draws from my gift. When I use my gift, such as that day we were down in the library and I read from a book of prophecy, it has the very real potential to call the beast tome.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Zedd rubbed his smooth chin. \"Well, I guess that's true. Maybe in away that did help to protect you.\" He scowled at Richard. \"But she gave it to Samuel! He's a thief!\"\n\n\"And what did he steal since he got the sword back?\"\n\nZedd peered at Richard with one eye. \"Steal? I don't know. What do you mean?\"\n\n\"He near to killed a Sister of the Dark and took the box of Orden she had, preventing the Sisters from having all three so that they can invoke the magic of Orden.\"\n\nZedd's scowl deepened. \"And just what do you suppose that little thief is going to do with the box?\"\n\nRichard shrugged. \"I don't know, but at least he bought us sometime. We can go after him, now, and prevent the Sisters from having all three boxes, at least.\"\n\nZedd scratched the hollow of his cheek as he gave Richard a sidelong glance. \"Kind of reminds a fellow of the last time, doesn't it... with Darken Rahl having to get the last box.\"\n\nRichard frowned over at his grandfather. \"What are you saying?\"\n\nZedd shrugged. \"Nothing. I'm just saying.\"\n\n\"Saying what?\"\n\n\"Like I said, kind of reminds one of the last time, that's all.\" Zedd clapped Richard on the shoulder. \"Well, come on. Rikka has dinner ready. We'll all get a good meal before we layout some ideas for how to proceed.\"\n\n\"That sounds great tome.\"\n\n\"How do you know? I haven't even told you what she's cooking.\"\n\n\"No, I mean... Never mind. Let's go.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Take the role of the writer's aide, proceed with the narrative.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, conclusion\nAuthor: Terry Goodkind\nTitle: Confessor\nChapter: 62" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Without delay, Richard went to the stone altar where the boxes of Orden sat.\n\nHe drew his sword.\n\nThe distinct metallic ring filled the Garden of Life.\n\n\"Richard,\" Zedd said in arising tone of warning, \"what do you think you're doing?\"\n\nRichard ignored his grandfather. He instead gazed into Kahlan's eyes.\n\n\"Are you with me, Kahlan?\"\n\nShe stepped to within a few paces of him.\n\n\"I have always been with you, Richard. I love you, and I know you love me.\"\n\nRichard's eyes closed fora moment.\n\nHe had no choice.\n\nHe turned to the boxes of Orden and closed his eyes as he lifted the blade to touch his forehead.\n\n\"Blade,\" he whispered, \"be true this day.\"\n\nHe brought the Sword of Truth down and drew it across the inside of his arm, letting blood rundown until it dripped off the tip.\n\nHe placed the blade on top of the box on the right, the one that Sister Ulicia had opened.\n\nThe blade turned as black as the box itself.\n\nHe withdrew the blade and it returned to its shiny state.\n\nHe placed the sword on the box on the left. Again, it turned as black as the underworld itself.\n\nHe withdrew it, letting it return to its normal state.\n\nRichard took a deep breath, and then laid the flat of the blade on the center box. He thought about all the innocent people who simply wanted to live their lives. He thought about all those like Cara and the other Mord-Sith who had been driven mad until they would serve a tyrant. He thought about Nicci, indoctrinated her whole life with hate, driven to a miserable life of sacrificing herself to twisted beliefs. He thought about Bruce, his left wing man, who, when he saw strength without hate, was drawn to it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He thought about Denna.\n\nWhen he opened his eyes, the blade had turned white. The box beneath it was just as white.\n\nGripping the hilt in both hands, Richard lifted the point of the Sword of Truth high over the white box... and with the killing thrust from the dance with death, drove it down, pinning the box to the altar.\n\nThe Garden of Life went white. The entire world of life went white. Time stopped.\n\nIn that moment, Richard stood in the center of a white world with nothing around him. He looked around, but there was no one there, and at the same time everyone was therewith him-every individual in the world of life was therewith him.\n\nHe understood. This was in many ways the opposite of the last journey he had taken in this room when he went into the world of darkness and in away every soul there had been with him.\n\nIn this place, in this state, he had the conscious awareness of every living person. In this moment, in this place, they all waited for what the man who commanded the power of Orden would say, and what he would do. This was Orden, the power of life itself.\n\n\"Every person makes choices as to how they will live,\" Richard began.\n\n\"Evil does not exist independent of man. Men do evil by choice. Choice involves the requirement to think, even if ineffectually. The most basic choice you can make is to think or not to think, to let others do the thinking and tell you what to do, even if they tell you to do evil.\n\n\"Wise choices require more, they require rational thinking. Refusal to think rationally affords one the ability to maintain the illusion of knowledge, wisdom, even sanctity while committing evil. If you follow the teaching of others who do your thinking for you and who have you do evil, the innocent victims are harmed just the same as if you choose to harm them yourself." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Dead is dead." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Their life is over.\n\n\"Teachings that defy reason defy reality; what defies reality defies life. Defying life is embracing death.\n\n\"Celebrating faith over reason is merely away of denying what is, in favor of embracing any whim that strikes your fancy.\n\n\"The followers of the Fellowship of Order have decided how they wish to live their lives. If it stopped there, none of us who value our individual liberty would care how they choose to live, but they have made the choice-made a conscious choice-that they will not allow others to live their own lives as they wish.\n\n\"It is that choice, made of their own freewill, which we cannot abide. We will not allow them to impose their evil choice onus. It ends here, now.\n\n\"I give them their wish fora world in which they can live as they have chosen. I grant them the thing they want most in life-the life they choose.\n\n\"I could condemn them to no worse fate.\n\n\"From this moment on there are now two worlds, twins inmost ways. This world will remain as it is.\n\n\"The power of Orden has just duplicated, in many ways, this world, giving them a world of their own. Their world will be theirs.\n\n\"They may not ever come to realize the foolishness of their choice, but they will certainly suffer for it. They will have the lives of misery they so fervently cling to. They will have the lives of suffering they piously embrace. They will have the lives of hopeless dread and fear they have chosen to impose on themselves by refusing to use their own minds to think rationally.\n\n\"They have chosen to throw their lives into the caldron of all-consuming hatred. I grant them their wish. It is the last time wishing will ever bring them anything. They will live out their existence wishing and hoping, endlessly lost in the darkness they have imposed on their own minds-in their own self-loathing. But they will never be able to harm us again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"They believe that those who are free cause all of their hardship." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They blame us for their woes. They attack us, saying we are the root of evil because we exist, because we are prosperous, because we are happy. They wish to destroy us so that they may have the world be the way they wish it.\"\n\nRichard turned his attention to the followers of the Order already in that other world, already at the other end of the gateway that was open. Those in his world could hear as well.\n\n\"I grant you your wish.\n\n\"You now have what you always claimed to want, a world in which your beliefs rule. A world without magic, without freemen and free minds. You can believe as you wish, live as you wish.\n\n\"But you will not have us as the excuse for the misery you create for yourselves. You will not have us as an excuse to fuel your hate.\n\n\"You will be without any enemy but your miserable selves. Your world will be yours to rule as you see fit, to crumble around you as you wallow in your own hate.\n\n\"Your children, witness to the senseless cruelty of your willfully ignorant beliefs, will in time hopefully change your world for the better, will make their own adult lives worthwhile and joyful. But that will be entirely up to them. They will have to choose for themselves to use reason rather than force to deal with each other. Like anyone else, they will have to make choices as to how they will live their only life.\n\n\"This world will be ours.\n\n\"This will be a world without the teachings of the Imperial Order. Without those who wish to use force to impose those beliefs onus. Without those who would murder us for wanting to choose how to live our own lives.\n\n\"This world will be a world with all the imperfections and uncertainty of life, with all the consequences of poor choices, with all the hardships and failures that life presents, but it will be a world in which we have a chance to make what we will of our lives, a world in which our lives are our own and our achievements are our own, a world in which man can learn, create, accomplish, and keep the products of his mind and labors. This will be a world of liberty, a world in which people have the right to live their life as they wish, to believe as they wish, as long as they follow reasoned laws and do not use force to impose their will on others." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Not everyone in this world will succeed, or be happy, or even understand how to make amoral life for themselves." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For now, though, for those of us who are living, it will be a world without the followers of the Order.\n\n\"This is a world of life. Life is what we make of it. We may fail. But for the time being, we will have the freedom to succeed or to fail. How we honor that freedom will be up to each of us.\n\n\"Perhaps our children will throw all this away, wanting to sink back into the misery of faith, of wishing, of force, but that, too, will be the world they create anew for themselves. That will be their choice, their life. They, too, will have to suffer the consequences if they fail to mind the lessons learned through our struggle. That is their responsibility to themselves, to their own lives.\n\n\"But for now, for those of us actually alive, those of us who exist now, this will be a world where reason is free to allow us to live our lives, lives without the beliefs of the Imperial Order to blight us.\n\n\"Despite the harm those in that newly distant world have inflicted onus, I will not kill them. I don't need to kill them. My responsibility to myself and those I love is to remove the threat so that we may live. I have done that.\n\n\"Our revenge will be to live lives filled with love, laughter, and joy.\n\n\"We will turn our attention and precious lives to the meaningful matters of life, to those we love and care about, to our future.\n\n\"Those of you in the newly distant world can look forward to what you would have brought us: a thousand years of darkness.\n\n\"I expect that you shall forever worship that to which you no longer will have any connection, or any possibility of a connection, that you will forever pray for an afterlife with the Creator in the spirit world, but you will be forever cutoff from any world but your own. In that distant world you will have your own lives, and after you die you will be dead. Your spirits will no longer exist. Your souls will extinguish along with your lives." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You will have your lives, and if you waste them by continuing to worship other worlds, wishing for invented visions of eternal salvation, wanting an escape from the reality of existence, you will reap only the emptiness of death after enduring lives unlived. You will have a chance at life; it will be up to you to value those precious lives or to cast them away for nothing.\n\n\"You wanted anew dawn of mankind. You wanted a world of life in which pining for other realms invented in your minds alone was the righteous cause of mankind. I grant you your wish. Now you must live with it.\n\n\"We will be free of you.\n\n\"Your world will be yours. You can never return to this world, for there will be noway back. Once this gateway closes, there will be no underworld for you as a conduit back, no other world for you but your own. There will be no means to get to this world and whatever worlds layer it.\n\n\"Those of us who remain behind will continue in our world as it has been, with whatever other realms have always existed around this world, the world of life.\n\n\"Your world will be surrounded by no other realms. It will bean island of life. Eternity will separate you from everything here. That means that you will be cutoff from the underworld, the world of the dead.\n\n\"Your existence in your world is finite. You will have your lives, but when you die your souls will cease to exist. You have only one existence-in your world of life. If you continue to waste it, if you fail to use your minds to properly grasp the reality of your world, your singular existence, you will lose out on the priceless value of your only life.\n\n\"You have life. You now have your own world. You can never return to this one. You can never again harm us. I give you what you have wanted: a world without dragons... and without all that goes with magic. You will forever be left longing for what you no longer can have." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am sure that every new day will bring us challenges to overcome, but the beliefs of the Order will not be one of them. As Nicci said, you are irrelevant.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the pure white void, his sister, Jennsen, stepped into view. Tom was with her, his arm reassuringly resting around her shoulders. Anson, Owen, and Marilee were there as well. Except for Tom, they were all pristinely ungifted-pillars of Creation.\n\n\"Richard,\" Jennsen said, \"we want to go to that new world.\"\n\nA tear rolled down Richard's cheek. He knew that everyone of those like her was listening, and they were all in agreement.\n\n\"You all have every right to stay and live free here.\"\n\n\"I know,\" she said for them all.\n\n\"But you have taught me the value of life, and of respecting the lives of others. This is a world with magic. We don't want our lives to beat the expense of this world, or of lives here whose existence depends on magic. We are pillars of Creation. We need to grow and build, to create our own world, a world without magic. This is your world. That distant world is ours.\"\n\nRichard cupped her cheek. \"As much as I would want you to stay, I understand.\"\n\nMore than understanding, he had known that they would want to go to that other world.\n\nRichard smiled at how beautiful she truly was, at how good a person she truly was. \"I think you will find a safe home for yourself and your friends.\"\n\n\"Do you think we will be safe, Lord Rahl?\" Tom asked. \"I mean, considering the nature of the people you sent to inhabit that distant world?\"\n\nRichard nodded. \" Movements like the Order, which only degrades and destroys the lives of its believers, needs an enemy to divert attention from the profound misery it produces. A great demon gives them an excuse for their misery. Such an enemy, as we have been, is the glue that binds their flailing suffering together. Without the excuse of a powerful evil enemy to blame, their ideas, even if they burnout of control fora thousand years, eventually collapse in on themselves. Simple tyranny usually rises up from those ashes to spring back to smoldering flame over and over throughout history in endless cycles of blaming people in the past." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"The pristinely ungifted will be far too small an enemy for the Order to be aware of, or to notice, or to blame." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You will simply be too small and insignificant in numbers to be a worthy excuse.\"\n\n\"We will be safe,\" Jennsen said, answering the concern still in Richard's eyes. \"Without an enemy like they had hereto blame, to battle, to conquer, the people of the Order will turn their hatred inward. They will prey on their own. We will see to it that we don't bring too much attention to ourselves. We will be fine.\"\n\nRichard nodded. \" If you get in their way, in their sight, they will crush you, but I'm hoping that you and your people can find a place-perhaps in the area there that is known as Bandakar herein this world. You can live your own lives, there. I wish it were otherwise, but I know it must be this way.\n\n\"I have sent the Chainfire spell to that distant, new world,\" he told her. \" It will work its way through all the people there, erasing the memory of this world, of what you have left behind. I must leave it infected with the chimes to insure that any magic carried into that distant world will be destroyed.\n\n\"Along with magic, memories of this place will be destroyed.\n\n\"I have no idea how the voids in the memories of people will be filled in-what they will eventually substitute for their real history, their real memories. Those created memories will by definition be more tenacious than the reality of what once was, of what was here. Those created memories will link together in the mind of man through the Chainfire spell, becoming a common conviction, a shared certainty. Those beliefs will hold sway over future generations despite all else. Any memory of us will eventually be lost in that distant world.\n\n\"But I can't count on the Chainfire spell and the contamination destroying all magic the way I believe it will. I simply can't count on those who will still have magic therefor a time not finding away around it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard laid a hand on Jennsen's shoulder. \" You, and those like you, will be the insurance for the future of your world, insurance that magic will forever be erased from existence in that world, from future generations. Once your descendants eventually touch everyone born, there will be no more magic in that distant world, even if some try to preserve it, secret it away for their own despotic ambitions. Time, and all those pillars of Creation who are born, will spread your trait of having no spark of the gift so that in the future, no one in that world can ever again be born with any spark of the gift, none will ever be able to bring back magic. But it will live on here.\n\n\"I know that you will remember me, Jennsen, but I also know that after time, that memory, along with all of this world, all that was in it, will slip away and come to be nothing more than legend.\"\n\nRichard turned to Tom, the big, blond-headed D'Haran. \"You are not pristinely ungifted.\"\n\nTom nodded. \" I know, but I love Jennsen and wish to be with her more than anything in life. Wherever we are together is wonderful, and we will have a wonderful life together. I'm rather excited about the prospect of helping to build a world for us, a world where Jennsen and all the other ungifted will not be different, but simply people.\n\n\"I ask, Lord Rahl, that you release me from service to you so that I may devote my life to loving and protecting your sister, as well as our people therein our new world.\"\n\nRichard smiled as he clasped hands with the man. \"There is no need for me to release you, Tom. You have always served me by your own grace. I will be eternally thankful that you have made Jennsen happy.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tom saluted with a fist to his heart, then, grinning, embraced Richard briefly. Owen, Anson, and Marilee, also grinning with the excitement of their lives ahead, clasped hands with Richard, thanking him for teaching them to embrace life.\n\n\"I love you,\" Jennsen whispered as she gave him a tight hug. \"Thank you, Richard, for helping me love life. Even if I forget you, you will always be in my heart.\"\n\nAs she stepped away, she and the others began to slip away into the white void of the gateway.\n\nAll alone in the white void, Richard gripped the Sword of Truth to withdraw it from the box of Orden, to pull the key from the gateway. He could only think that even if everything had worked as he had planned, the one thing he had hoped for the most for himself had failed.\n\nThe sterile field he had needed to allow the power of Orden to succeed had been tainted. Kahlan had known that he loved her.\n\n\"You area rare person, Richard Rahl,\" came the most beautiful voice in the world.\n\nRichard turned to see her standing there before him. Her green eyes sparkled. She wore her special smile that she wore for no other.\n\nRichard stood frozen, one hand still gripping the sword so hard that he could feel the word truth pressing into his hand.\n\nKahlan stepped close, slipping an arm around his neck. \"Richard, I love you.\"\n\nRichard circled an arm around her waist, his feelings overwhelming him.\n\n\"I don't understand. It wouldn't work if the sterile field was breached with foreknowledge.\"\n\n\"I was protected,\" she said with a crooked smile.\n\nRichard frowned. \"Protected? How?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I had already fallen in love with you allover again. I didn't need a sterile field. I think that from the first moment I saw you in that cage as it rolled into the Order's camp I started falling in love with you. In everything you did, you revealed just what kind of man you are-the man I fell in love with so long ago, the man I married in the Mud People's village.\n\n\"When you gave me that carving of Spirit, it confirmed everything I had come to know allover again.\n\n\"Art reveals the artist's inner self. Art reveals a man's ideals, what he values. Anyone with that much reverence, that much passion for the nobility of the human spirit, could only be a man who shares my passion for life.\"\n\nRichard smiled as he felt a tear roll down his cheek. \" I went to the underworld to get the memories taken by the Subtractive Magic of Chainfire. There, I learned that the core of those memories could only be restored if you accepted them of your own freewill. I put them into that carving.\n\n\"When you accepted it, you accepted everyone's memories. You broke the Chainfire spell that had taken so much from so many. By being so willing to embrace all that is good, to value the beauty of life and hold it to your heart, you gave everyone back their memories.\"\n\nShe gazed into his eyes for the longest moment.\n\nAnd then he kissed his wife, the woman he loved, the woman who meant everything to him. The woman who loved him.\n\nThe woman he had gone to the underworld and back for.\n\nAshe lost himself in that kiss, as her arms tightened around him, he pulled the Sword of Truth from the box of Orden, closing the gateway for all time." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When Richard finally opened his eyes, the world had returned. Zedd was standing nearby, watching them, grinning.\n\n\"Zedd,\" Richard said, blinking at all the others also there.\n\n\"No need to apologize, my boy.\"\n\n\"I wasn't apologizing.\"\n\nZedd gestured for them to continue. \" Well, you have aright to kiss your wife after all this time. I always knew that you two belonged together for all time.\n\n\"I just wish it hadn't taken you so long to figure all this out.\"\n\nRichard scowled at his grandfather. \"Sorry to have inconvenienced you. Maybe you should have taught me a little better in the beginning and it wouldn't have taken me so long.\"\n\nZedd shrugged. \"I must have been a good teacher-you got it all right.\"\n\n\"Richard,\" Nathan said as he stepped forward. \"Do you realize what you have just done?\"\n\nRichard glanced around. \"Well, I believe so.\"\n\n\"You just fulfilled prophecy!\"\n\nRichard skeptically cocked his head at the prophet. \"What prophecy?\"\n\n\"The prophecy about the great void!\"\n\nRichard made a face. \"But I just saved us from the great void you warned us was the threat in prophecy.\"\n\nNathan threw his arms up in excitement. \"No, no, don't you see? You just created a world where magic doesn't exist. That's why prophecy sees that other world as avoid-because prophecy can't see into a world without magic! Prophecy was actually predicting what you would do. When you split the worlds, that was the fork in prophecy. The great void is prophecy's prediction of that other world.\"\n\nRichard sighed. \"If you say so, Nathan.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I don't understand something,\" Zedd said. \"How did you know that the Sword of Truth was the key to opening the boxes of Orden? I mean, you knew that The Book of Counted Shadows couldn't be the real key because Orden predated the existence of the Confessors. But Orden also predated the Sword of Truth. How could it be the key?\"\n\n\"The sword protected my mind from the Chainfire spell because the boxes of Orden are the counter to the Chainfire spell, and the Sword of Truth-or, more correctly, the magic invested in it-is the key to the boxes, so it's part of Orden. That was the spark of insight that made me realize that the sword is the key-because I was holding it when the Sisters ignited the spell, it protected my memories of Kahlan, and the sword interrupted the ongoing effects of the spell for those who touched it.\"\n\nZedd planted his hands on his hips. \"But the sword was created after Orden.\"\n\n\"That was a trick.\"\n\n\"A trick!\"\n\n\"What better way to protect something of such profound power than with a trick, rather than a complex, extravagant construction of magic, like everyone thought of The Book of Counted Shadows.\n\n\"After all, a trick, if properly done, is magic.\" Richard smiled. \" You taught me that, remember? That's what the wizards back then did. The whole thing with The Book of Counted Shadows was a trick to disguise the real key: the Sword of Truth. The sword was invested with the magic to unlock Orden; the book was a ruse, a trick, to send everyone offtrack.\n\n\"The true key-the sword-has elements of magic that complete the constructed magic of Orden. The sword contains those necessary elements-magic invested in it by hundreds of wizards. The sword may have been created later, but the magic invested in it was the magic created by the same wizards who created Orden. It was right under everyone's nose all the time." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That was the reason that the Sword of Truth has always been the responsibility of the First Wizard. It was beyond priceless.\n\n\"You, Zedd, were a proper caretaker for the sword. You found the right person for it, the right person to be the true Seeker of Truth.\n\n\"The reason it was so important to find the right person to be the Seeker is because only that kind of person, with the love of life and empathy for others, would be able to turn the blade white. Only that person, when touching it to the correct box, could have turned the blade white.\n\n\"Only a true Seeker of Truth can use the Sword of Truth and thus the power of Orden.\n\n\"It's tied into the admonition at the beginning of The Book of Life that betray themselves.\" The Sword of Truth requires compassion to work. Hate will not turn the blade white-only compassion will. That is the final fail-safe for Orden. At the same time, it works this way in order to be the key to the boxes of Orden.\n\n\"You can't use hate to make Orden work. Hate is not apart of the solution. The Book of Life warns of that very thing. Once you grasp the concept, it's all pretty simple.\"\n\n\"Yes, I can see how simple it is,\" Zedd muttered to himself as he poked a finger through his thatch of unruly white hair to scratch his scalp.\n\nNathan snapped his fingers as he turned to Zedd. \"Now I also understand that other prophecy.\"\n\nZedd looked up. \"Which one?\"\n\nNathan leaned close. \"You remember: \"Someday, someone born not of this world will have to save it.\" Now it makes more sense.\"\n\nZedd frowned. \"Not tome.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nathan flicked a hand. \"Well, we'll have to workout the details later.\"\n\nZedd turned an intent look on Richard. \"There area lot of questions remaining, a lotto understand. As First Wizard I need to know everything so I can tell if you got all the particulars correct. What if you made some sort of miscalculation in some aspect of it? We need to know if-\"\n\n\"There was no time,\" Richard said, cutting him off. \" Sometimes one has only an instant to do something, and in such circumstances every eventuality can't be considered or addressed. In that cusp of opportunity not every circumstance can be recognized, much less planned for or dealt with.\n\n\"Sometimes it's more important to seize the chance and do what you can, even knowing that it won't likely account for everything, every problem, than it is to do nothing.\n\n\"Only later can one go over the what-ifs and should-haves.\"\n\n\"I had to act. I did the very best I could before it was too late.\"\n\nZedd smiled and then gripped Richard's shoulder, giving it a jostle. \"You did good, my boy. You did good.\"\n\n\"Yes, he certainly did,\" Nicci said.\n\nThey all turned to see her making her way down the path, a big smile on her face.\n\n\"I just checked. The army of the Imperial Order is gone from the Azrith Plain. There area few men left, those like Bruce, who want the chance to live free to try to make something of their lives.\"\n\nA cheer went up from all those in the room at hearing confirmation that the vast army of the Imperial Order was gone.\n\nAs soon as Nicci was close, Kahlan immediately embraced her. She finally pushed back and smiled knowingly at Nicci." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Only someone who truly loves him would do all you did to get me back. You are more than a friend to us.\"\n\n\"Richard taught me that to love someone means that you sometimes are fulfilled the most by putting their deepest desires above your own. I won't deny loving him, Kahlan, but I still couldn't be happier for both of you. To see you both together, and so much in love, brings me profound joy.\"\n\nNicci turned her attention to Richard. She was looking serious to the point of disquiet. \"I want to know how you could create a distant world on the other side of nowhere and send everyone there.\"\n\n\"Well,\" he began, \"I read in the books on Ordenic theory that the gateway that was created could bend magic around in away to counter Chain-fire. That gave mean idea.\"\n\nHe pulled the folded white cloth from his pocket. \"See here? A drop of ink fell here.\"\n\nZedd leaned in. \"So what?\"\n\nRichard unfolded the white cloth. \"Look,\" he said, pointing to the two spots on opposite sides of the cloth. \" When the cloth is folded, these two spots are touching. When you unfold it, they are on opposite ends of the cloth.\n\n\"The power of Orden is able to bend existence-in effect Orden is the bend in existence that is able to undo Chainfire and restore memory. So in effect, I used Orden's power to create an impression of this world. Orden sent those people through the gateway to that other world that was actually right herein the same place, and then when I pulled the sword back out of the box and closed off the gateway, that other world is now on the other side of existence-just like this spot that was once touching the original is now on the other side of the cloth.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You mean,\" Zedd said, deep in thought as he rubbed his chin, \"Orden created a gateway that momentarily joined the two places in order to allow those who wished a world without magic to step across, and then it separated the worlds forever.\"\n\n\"You're a quick study,\" Richard said, teasingly.\n\nZedd swatted Richard's shoulder.\n\nRichard took a few steps to lay a hand on Verna's shoulder. \"It was Warren who gave me the spark of the idea. It was he who first told me that the boxes of Orden were a gateway, a conduit through the underworld. I couldn't have done it without Warren. He helped us all with his knowledge.\"\n\nVerna, her eyes brimming with tears, rubbed Richard's back affectionately in appreciation.\n\nRichard lifted the amulet he wore around his neck, the one once worn by wizard Baraccus.\n\n\"This amulet illustrates the dance with death. It's about more than just fighting with the sword, or even about living life. This emblem also contains what I needed to go to the underworld, the world of the dead. This is part of what Baraccus intended for me to understand.\n\n\"But this amulet also represents that final movement of the dance with death, the killing thrust, that was needed to use the boxes of Orden.\"\n\nKahlan circled her arm around his waist. \"You have done wizard Baraccus proud, Richard.\"\n\n\"You have done us all proud,\" Zedd said.\n\nNicci's blue eyes sparkled with her smile. \"He certainly has.\"\n\nZedd smiled in a manner Richard had not seen in a very longtime. It was the old Zedd, Richard's grandfather, advisor, and friend. Zedd spoke with quiet pride." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What all those ancient wizards tried to do with the great barrier to the south, and what I, as First Wizard, tried to do with the boundaries, you actually did, Richard.\n\n\"You eliminated the threat to prevent them from ever harming us again, but you left life for the future. All those children of those people will have a chance to learn from the mistakes of their parents and, possibly, they will learn and grow and rise above hatred of others as away of life. You have given them a world to live out their hatred of life, a world to take into a thousand years of darkness, but you have also given future generations the chance fora rebirth of mankind there, who hopefully will embrace life and the nobility of the human spirit.\n\n\"You have given both worlds the gift of life, and you did it through strength without hate.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The balmy breeze lifted Jennsen's red hair as she stared at the ornate letter'R\" engraved on the silver handle of her knife.\n\n\"Thinking about your brother?\" Tom asked as he walked up to her, bringing her out of her memories.\n\nShe smiled up at her husband as she hugged him with one arm. \"Yes, but only good thoughts.\"\n\n\"I miss Lord Rahl, too.\"\n\nHe pulled out his own knife to gaze at it. It was the twin of Jennsen's. His had the same ornate letter'R\" for the House of Rahl. Tom had spent the better portion of his young adult life as a member of the special forces that served covertly to protect the Lord Rahl. That was how he had earned the right to carry that knife.\n\nJennsen leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. \"It seems you only just got a Lord Rahl worth serving when you gave it all up to come herewith me.\"\n\n\"You know,\" he said, smiling as he slipped his knife back in its sheath, \"I rather like my new life with my new wife.\"\n\nShe hugged her arms around the bear of a man. \"You do, do you?\" she asked in a teasing way.\n\n\"I like my new name, too,\" he added. \"I'm finally used to it. You know, comfortable with it.\"\n\nWhen they married, Tom had taken her name, Rahl, so that they could carry it on in the new world. It seemed only fitting that the man who had given them their new life should be remembered in some fashion.\n\nIn every other way he was vanishing from memory.\n\nIt was surprising to Jennsen how so many people no longer even remembered the place they came from, their old world. It was just as Richard said: the Chainfire spell was taking their memory and those blank places were being rebuilt with new memories, new beliefs, about who they were. Since the Chainfire spell and the taint within it were both Subtractive magic, it had affected even the pristinely ungifted, so even they were continuing to lose track of who and what they had been." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For the most part, magic had become no more than superstition. Wizards and sorceresses were even less important. They had become no more than tales told around campfires to scare people fora good laugh. Dragons were becoming only folklore. In this world there were no dragons.\n\nAny who possessed magic were fading away. Their ability was dying out, smothered by the taint from the chimes. Day by day they became more powerless. Eventually they would merely be old hags living by themselves in swampy places and considered crazy by most folk.\n\nAny trace of the gift that survived, if not withered away by the taint of the chimes they'd brought with them into their world, would eventually be completely eliminated by descendants of the pristinely ungifted. It would be only a matter of generations before there was no trace of the gift left in mankind-just the way the Order had once said they wanted it.\n\nEveryone was concerned with more important things now. Their lives now revolved around the hard work of survival when there was no one who accomplished anything worthwhile. People had forgotten how to do things, how to create things. Even what had once seemed the most common of things, such as construction methods, was being lost. The people here never knew how to create-they had depended on others to build and create. It would take future generations to discover them allover again.\n\nThose from the old life, those who created, who invented, who made life easier for everyone, and who were the object of such hatred, were not in this world to help make life better. The people left, for the most part, were left to eke out an existence as best they could.\n\nFor most, living in such a dark age, sickness and death were their constant companion. As they had in the world they had been banished from, they turned to superstition and a grim, fatalistic acceptance of the misery of life and its accompanying devotion to their faith." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It seemed that everywhere Tom and Jennsen traveled to trade for supplies, they saw churches going up as the hope for mankind's salvation from misery. Men of God traveled the countryside to spread the word, and demand devotion to Him.\n\nJennsen and her people kept mostly to themselves, enjoying the fruits of their own labor and the simple joy of being left alone by tyrants and brutes. Some of them, though, had started keeping the symbols of the religious beliefs pressed on them. It seemed easier for them to go along than to question, to accept prepackaged beliefs than to think for themselves.\n\nJennsen knew that their world was going to be one that sank into a very dark age, but she also knew that within that dark world, she and those with her could carve out their own small place of happiness, joy, and laughter. The rest of the world was too busy suffering to bother with the remote area of a few quiet people. Some of the pristinely ungifted, though, as their memories of the old world vanished, had left to go out among the cities and far-off places.\n\nUnknowingly, they carried the pristinely ungifted trait. It would continue to spread to the far corners of the world.\n\n\"How is the garden coming?\" she asked Tomas he knocked mud off his boots.\n\nHe scratched his head of blond hair as he grinned. \" Things are coming up, Jenn. Can you believe it? I'm growing things-me, Tom Rahl. I'm finding it more than agreeable.\n\n\"And I think the sow is going to have her litter anytime now. I tell you, Betty is beside herself. The way her tail is wagging, I have the feeling that she thinks the piglets are going to be hers.\"\n\nBetty, Jennsen's brown goat, loved her new home. She got to be near Tom and Jennsen all the time and she could rule the roost. Betty had a couple of horses she was in love with, a mule she tolerated, and chickens that were beneath her. She would soon have her own kids." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tom leaned his shoulders back against the wall and folded his arms as he gazed out appreciatively at the beautiful spring countryside. \"I think we'll do just fine, Jenn.\"\n\nShe rose upon her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. \"Good, because I'm going to have a baby.\"\n\nHe looked thunderstruck fora moment; then he leaped in the air with a wild hoot.\n\n\"You are! Jennsen, that's wonderful! We're bringing anew little Rahl into the new world? Really?\"\n\nJennsen laughed, nodding at his enthusiasm.\n\nShe wished that Richard and Kahlan knew, that they could come visit once she eventually had her baby.\n\nBut Richard and Kahlan were in another world.\n\nShe had come to love the broad sunlit fields, the trees, the beautiful mountains beyond, and the cozy house they had built. It was home. A home filled with love and life. She wished that her mother could see her place in the world. She wished Richard and Kahlan could see her new home, the place Tom and she had built out of nothing. She knew how proud Richard would be.\n\nJennsen knew that Richard was real, but to the rest of her friends in the new world, Richard and all that he embodied, all that he represented, everything they once had known... was passing into the shrouded realm of legend and myth." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kahlan stopped every step, it seemed, to greet people. She rose upon her toes to gaze out over the crowd, trying to see people she was looking for, people she was excited about seeing again. It seemed like the entire world was assembled in the expansive corridors of the People's Palace. She couldn't ever recall seeing so many people come out for anything.\n\nBut then, this was a special event, something no one had ever seen before. No one wanted to miss it.\n\nThe world was a different place. With so many people devoted to hatred vanished out of this world and into their own, there was a rebirth, it seemed, of spirit. With fewer people to produce by the toil of labor, the need for food and other goods had spurred labor-saving innovation and inventions. Everyday she heard of accomplishments, of new things being developed. The opportunities for individuals to create and prosper were no longer restrained. It seemed the world was in flower.\n\nKahlan stopped when someone caught her arm. She turned to see Jillian, with her grandfather. Kahlan hugged the girl tightly and told her grandfather what a brave young woman she had been, and how she had helped to save them all by casting dreams. Her grandfather beamed with pride.\n\nKahlan was besieged by people all wanting to take her hand, to tell her how beautiful she looked, to ask if she and Richard were well. The crowds seemed to float her along. It was a delight to see such celebration, such joy and goodwill come together like this.\n\nSeveral members of the crypt staff stopped her to express their excitement at being invited. She hugged one of the women to stop her from talking. Since Richard had unleashed the power of Orden and grown them their tongues back, Kahlan didn't think that any of the crypt staff had stopped talking." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kahlan spotted Nathan strolling through the hallway. His full head of straight white hair hung to broad shoulders holding a blue velvet cape over a ruffled white shirt. He was wearing an elegant sword at his hip-he said that it made him look dashing. He had an attractive woman on each arm, so she guessed that it worked. Kahlan hoped that Richard was as ruggedly handsome wearing his sword when he was a thousand years old.\n\nShe waved at Nathan across a sea of people. He pointed, to signify that he would see her with Richard. She headed in that direction. When she spotted Verna, Kahlan caught the prelate's arm.\n\n\"Verna, you came!\"\n\nVerna smiled like the sunshine. \"I wouldn't think of missing such a thing.\"\n\n\"How is life at the Wizard's Keep? Are your Sisters happy there?\"\n\nVerna's smile widened. \"Kahlan, I can't begin to tell you. We've found a few new gifted boys. They've come to join us and we've been teaching them. It's so much different than before, so much better. It's all so new and exciting with a First Wizard to help. Seeing such young boys coming to know their gift is wondrous.\"\n\n\"And life with Zedd at the Keep?\"\n\n\"Zedd has never seemed so happy. With a Keep full of people you would think he would be grumpy, but I tell you, Kahlan, the man has come alive. He's like a child himself again to have Chase and Emma living there now, with all their children, and the boys learning their gift. The place is full of life again.\"\n\nKahlan was getting choked up just hearing about it. \"That sounds wonderful, Verna.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"When are you coming fora visit? Everyone wants to see you and Richard again. Zedd has seen to it that people have come into repair the damage to the Confessors'Palace. It's looking majestic again. It's ready for you to comeback to visit your home whenever you wish. You won't believe all the staff who have returned and are hoping you and Richard will spend sometime there.\"\n\nIt was such a joy for Kahlan to know that so many people were sincere in their desire to have her around. She had grownup a Confessor, a woman feared by all. Now, because of Richard and all that had happened, she was loved as herself, and as the Mother Confessor.\n\n\"Soon, Verna, soon. Richard has been talking about wanting to get out. The palace is driving him nuts. He is surrounded by marble and the man wants to go look at trees.\"\n\nVerna kissed Kahlan's cheek before Kahlan started on her way again.\n\nShe had gone only a short distance when the square-jawed Captain Zimmer saw her and tapped his fist to his chest in salute.\n\n\"Have any ears to show me, Captain?\"\n\nHe smiled knowingly. \"Sorry, Mother Confessor. Haven't needed to collect any, lately-thanks to you and Lord Rahl.\"\n\nShe gave his shoulder a squeeze as she moved on.\n\nShe finally spotted Richard through the crowd. He turned to look at her, almost as if he could sense her presence. She didn't doubt that he could.\n\nThe sight of him, as it always did, made her weak with joy. He looked magnificent in his black war-wizard outfit, fitting attire for the occasion.\n\nWhen she reached him, and he circled an arm gently around her waist, drawing her close to kiss her, the rest of the world, the thousands of people, most of them no doubt watching, vanished from her mind." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I love you,\" he whispered in her ear. \"You are the most beautiful woman here.\"\n\n\"I don't know, Lord Rahl,\" she said with a playful smile, \"some more might show up. Better not judge too quickly.\"\n\nRichard saw Victor Cascella, with his wolfish grin, tap his fist to his heart in salute. Richard, smiling at the blacksmith, returned the salute in kind.\n\nKahlan spotted Zedd, then. She threw her arms around the old man. \"Zedd!\"\n\n\"Don't squeeze the life out of me.\"\n\nShe pulled back, gripping his arms. \"I'm so glad you came!\"\n\nHis grin was infectious. \"Wouldn't miss it for the world, dear one.\"\n\n\"Are you enjoying yourself? Have you had anything to eat?\"\n\n\"I would be enjoying it more if Richard would leave me be so I could sample a few of the delightful-looking treats.\"\n\nRichard made a face. \"Zedd, the kitchen staff run when they see you.\"\n\n\"Well, if they don't like to cook, they shouldn't have become cooks.\"\n\nKahlan felt someone grab her hand. \"Rachel!\" She bent and hugged the girl. \"How are you?\"\n\n\"Wonderful. Zedd has been teaching me to draw. When he's not eating.\"\n\nKahlan laughed. \"Do you like living at the Keep?\"\n\nRachel beamed. \"It's the most fun ever. I have brothers and sisters and friends. And Chase and Emma, of course. I think Chase really likes being a Keep warden.\"\n\n\"I bet he does,\" Richard said.\n\n\"And someday,\" Rachel added, \"we may move to Tamarang to live in the castle. But Zedd says that I'm along way from ready for that.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rachel had been born with royal blood that carried the ability to draw spells in the sacred caves. She was, technically, the queen of Tamarang. Someday, she was going to make a grand queen and draw wonderful things.\n\n\"Zedd,\" Kahlan said, \"have you seen Adie?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Zedd smiled to himself. \"Friedrich Gilder makes her happy. If ever there was a woman who deserved to find happiness, I think it's Adie. Lucky for her she traveled to the Keep back when the palace was under siege and ran into Friedrich. The two of them just seemed to hit it off. Now that Aydindril is back full of life, Friedrich has more work gilding than he can handle. I can hardly get him to do any work for us at the Keep.\"\n\n\"And you're all right?\" Kahlan asked.\n\nHis brows lifted. \"Well I will be when you and Richard come and stay fora while.\" He shook a finger at Richard. \"I tell you, Richard, sometimes I feel like you've gone off to the underworld, to live at the Temple of the Winds.\"\n\nRichard leveled an even look at his grandfather. \"The Temple of the Winds isn't in the underworld.\"\n\n\"Of course it is. It was banished there during-\"\n\n\"I brought it back.\"\n\nZedd stiffened. \"What?\"\n\nRichard nodded with the slightest smile. \"When I went to the underworld before I opened the power of Orden, I did a few little things. While the gateway of Orden was open I was able to put the temple back where it belongs-in this world. It was designed, created, and built by the mind of man. The things in it were the creations of the mind of man. It belongs to man. I brought it back to those of us who value such genius.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Zedd still hadn't blinked. \"But it's dangerous.\"\n\n\"I know. I made sure that for now no one but me can get in. I figured that when you're not busy, you and I can go visit it. It's quite a remarkable place, actually. In the Hall of Sky the ceiling of stone is like a window showing the sky across its surface. It's so beautiful. I'd love to be the one to show you a place that no one else has seen in three thousand years.\"\n\nZedd's jaw was hanging. He held up a finger. \"Richard, did you do anything else while the gateway of Orden was open?\"\n\nRichard shrugged. \"A few things.\"\n\n\"Like what?\"\n\n\"Well, for one thing, I fixed it so that red fruit in the Midlands is no longer poison, just like I promised you I would along time ago.\"\n\n\"What else?\"\n\n\"Well, I-oh, look, it's time to start. I have to go. We'll talk later.\"\n\nZedd's brow drew down. \"You had better believe we will.\"\n\nTaking Kahlan's hand, Richard ascended the steps to the platform of the devotion square. Egan and Ulic stood with their hands casually clasped, waiting for the Lord Rahl. Richard took his place, Kahlan at his side.\n\nThe crowd spread out through the vast hallway quieted.\n\nWhen Kahlan finally saw her coming, she smiled so broadly that it made her cheeks hurt. The crowd parted along the seemingly endless red carpet for the couple approaching the platform. The escorts followed in along trail.\n\nCara, looking positively radiant, ascended the steps with Benjamin at her side, holding his arm. He looked magnificent in his dress uniform. Benjamin was now General Meiffert, Commander of the First File at the People's Palace." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Cara, like all the Mord-Sith following behind, was wearing her white leather." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With Benjamin's dark uniform they made a stunning couple. Ina way it reminded Kahlan of her in her white Confessor's dress and Richard in his black war-wizard outfit.\n\nNicci, as beautiful as ever, smiled as she stood among the Mord-Sith to represent Cara as her official witness.\n\n\"Are you ready?\" Richard asked.\n\nCara and Benjamin nodded, too giddy to answer, Kahlan thought.\n\nRichard leaned down a little, fixing Benjamin in his raptor glare. \"Ben, don't you ever hurt her, do you hear me?\"\n\n\"Lord Rahl, I don't think I could hurt her if I wanted to.\"\n\n\"You know what I mean.\"\n\nBenjamin smiled broadly. \"I know what you mean, Lord Rahl.\"\n\n\"Good,\" Richard said with a smile as he straightened.\n\n\"But I can still hurt him if I want, right?\" Cara asked.\n\nRichard lifted an eyebrow. \"No.\"\n\nCara grinned.\n\nRichard looked out over the silent crowd. \" Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to be apart of something wonderful: the start of the life of Cara and Benjamin Meiffert together.\n\n\"They both have proven themselves to be the finest examples of the kind of people we all hope to be. Strong, wise, loyal to those they care about, and willing to overcome everything to embrace the highest values we have: life. They wish to share that life with each other.\"\n\nRichard's voice broke just a bit. \" No one in this room is more proud of that, or them, than I am.\n\n\"Cara, Benjamin, both of you are bound not by these words spoken before us all, but by your own hearts. These are simple words, but in simple things there is great power.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Kahlan recognized the words from their own wedding." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She thought that he could offer no greater respect for them than to use some of those same words for Cara and Benjamin.\n\nRichard cleared his throat and paused fora moment to compose himself.\n\n\"Cara, will you have Benjamin as your husband, and will you love and honor him for all time?\"\n\n\"I will,\" Cara said in a clear voice that carried over the crowd.\n\n\"Benjamin,\" Kahlan said, \"will you have Cara as your wife, and will you love and honor her for all time?\"\n\n\"I will,\" he said in an equally clear voice.\n\n\"Then before your friends and loved ones, your people,\" Richard said, \"you are now wedded for all time.\"\n\nCara and Benjamin came together in an embrace, kissing, as the Mord-Sith behind them cried and the crowd went wild.\n\nWhen the noise finally died down, and the kiss finally ended, Richard held out a hand, inviting them to come and stand beside him and Kahlan. Berdine was still crying tears of joy on Nyda's shoulder. Kahlan saw that Rikka, tears brimming, wore a pink ribbon in her hair that Nicci had given her.\n\nRichard stood tall and proud as he looked out overall the faces watching him. If Kahlan didn't see all the thousands gathered, she would have thought the halls were empty, it was that quiet.\n\nRichard spoke, then, in a voice that all could hear.\n\n\"To exist in this vast universe fora speck of time is the great gift of life. Our tiny sliver of time is our gift of life. It is our only life. The universe will goon, indifferent to our brief existence, but while we are here we touch not just part of that vastness, but also the lives around us. Life is the gift each of us has been given. Each life is our own and no one else's. It is precious beyond all counting. It is the greatest value we can have. Cherish it for what it truly is.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Cara put her arms around his neck. \"Thank you, Richard, for everything.\"\n\n\"It is my great honor, Cara,\" he said as he hugged her.\n\n\"Oh, by the way,\" Cara whispered in his ear, \"Shota stopped to see me just a little while ago. She wanted me to give you a message.\"\n\n\"Really? What message?\"\n\n\"She said that if you ever comeback to Agaden Reach she will kill you.\"\n\nRichard pulled back in surprise. \"Really? She said that?\"\n\nCara nodded, grinning. \"But she was smiling when she said it.\"\n\nAnd then the bell calling people to devotion rang.\n\nBefore anyone could move, Richard again spoke.\n\n\"There will be no more devotions. None of you have to kneel before me or anyone else.\n\n\"Your life is yours alone. Rise up and live it.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Advance the storyline as the writer's tale partner.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, friendship\nAuthor: Michael J. Sullivan\nTitle: The Crown Tower\nChapter: 34" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Reuben!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ian, the groom, struck him on the shoulder with a riding crop. It stung enough to leave a mark. \"Quit your daydreaming-get to work.\"\n\nReuben resumed shoveling the manure, saying nothing. He had learned his lesson for the day and kept his head down while scooping the strata of dirt cakes. She could not see him in the stalls, but with each toss of manure he caught a glimpse of her through the door. The princess wore a burgundy dress, the new one of Calian silk that she had received for her birthday along with the horse. To Reuben, Calis was just a mythical place, somewhere faraway to the south filled with jungles, goblins, and pirates. It had to be a magical land because the material of the dress shimmered as she walked, the color complementing her hair. Being the newest, it fit well. More than that, the other dresses were fora girl-this was a woman's gown.\n\n\"You'll be wanting Tamarisk, Your Highness?\" Ian asked from somewhere in the stable's main entry.\n\n\"Of course. It's a beautiful day fora ride, isn't it? Tamarisk likes the cooler weather. He can run.\"\n\n\"Your mother has asked you not to run Tamarisk.\"\n\n\"Trotting is uncomfortable.\"\n\nIan gave her a dubious look. \"Tamarisk is a Maranon palfrey, Your Highness. He doesn't trot-he ambles.\"\n\n\"I like the wind in my hair.\" There was a certain flair in her voice, a willfulness that made Reuben smile.\n\n\"Your mother would prefer-\"\n\n\"Are you the royal groom or a nursemaid? Because I should tell Nora that her services are no longer needed.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Forgive me, Your Highness, but your mother would-\"\n\nShe pushed past the groom and entered the barn. \"You there-boy!\" the princess called.\n\nReuben paused in his scraping. She was looking right at him.\n\n\"Can you saddle a horse?\"\n\nHe managed a nod.\n\n\"Saddle Tamarisk for me. Use the sidesaddle with the suede seat. You know the one?\"\n\nReuben nodded again and jumped to the task. His hands shook as he lifted the saddle from the rack.\n\nTamarisk was a beautiful chestnut, imported from the kingdom of Maranon. These horses were famed for their breeding and exquisite training, which made for exceptionally smooth rides. Reuben imagined this was how the king explained the gift to his wife. Maranon mounts were also known for their speed, which was likely how the king explained the gift to his daughter.\n\n\"Where will you be going?\" Ian asked.\n\n\"I thought I would ride to the Gateway Bridge.\"\n\n\"You can't ride so far alone.\"\n\n\"My father got me that horse to ride, and not just in the courtyard.\"\n\n\"Then I will escort you,\" the groom insisted.\n\n\"No! Your place is here. Besides, who will raise the alarm if I don't return?\"\n\n\"If you won't have me, then Reuben will ride with you.\"\n\n\"Who?\"\n\nReuben froze.\n\n\"Reuben. The boy saddling your horse.\"\n\n\"I don't want anyone with me.\"\n\n\"It's me or him or no horse is saddled, and I'll go to your mother right now.\"\n\n\"Fine. I'll take... what did you say his name was?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Reuben.\"\n\n\"Really? Does he have a last name?\"\n\n\"Hilfred.\"\n\nShe sighed. \"I'll take Hilfred.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Carry on with the narrative as the plot partner.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, necromancy\nAuthor: James Fahy\nTitle: The Drowned Tomb\nChapter: 29" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The great frozen bole of Hiernarbos did indeed have doors, four stories high and arched in gothic ice. Wide icy steps led up to them. They stood open and inside, awaiting them, looking dwarfed by the immensity of its surroundings, was an Undine.\n\nFollowing Karya, they walked to the steps, and the Undine waited to greet them. Robin hadn't really given any thought to what an Undine would look like. He had only ever seen one dead, under the folly at Erlking, and that hadn't been really something to go off.\n\nHe supposed he had kind of expected them to look like nymphs. Beautiful women, long flowing hair, rippling dresses, the kind of thing you tended to see in mythology books. But the being who met them at the foot of the stairs was far stranger than he had imagined.\n\nShe, fora she it was, was tall. Taller than anyone he had ever met, in either world. She would have dwarfed even Ker.\n\nShe wore a simple white pleated gown, bare at the shoulders, which made Robin think of old Greek statues, thought it was threaded through with filaments of silver. But her most striking feature was not her attire but her skin. Or rather, he corrected himself, her lack of it.\n\nIn place of flesh, the odd and slender being seemed to be fashioned from green-blue blown glass, somehow animated with life. Her face and bare arms were translucent, and deep in the depths of her glassy insides there rolled a blueish rippling light. Sunlight on water. It shimmered through her, from the tips of her clear blue fingers to the line of her shining lips. She was a walking sculpture, painted in depths of light and shade. Her eyes, long and almond shaped, were a soft, mother of pearl white from lid to lid, devoid of pupil, and the glassy dome of her tall head was entirely without hair." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "From her shoulders, there sprouted what Robin at first had taken to be wings, but as she drew nearer, he saw they were rather the great nebulous skirts of a jellyfish, flowing out behind her weightlessly as she moved. When they reached the doors and she stood before them, towering silently over them all, the wings fell softly around her shoulders and draped down her back, a gossamer curtain.\n\n\"You are not the tools of Eris,\" she said simply, appraising them one by one, her long head turning smoothly on its alien neck as her white eyes rolled over them. Her voice had a strange undertone. The sound one gets when a wet finger is runaround the lip of a glass. \"But you bring them with you.\" She looked back across the lake, her features calm and composed, toward the canyon entrance and the great churning barrier of water which led back to the outside world.\n\n\"The way will hold shut,\" she said. \"But not for much longer.\" She glanced down at them. \"My mana is all but spent, young travellers. They work dark magic outside, chipping away at my will. When the waters fall, and they will, so too will Hiernarbos.\" She did not seem overly concerned about this. Her smooth face was placid. \"We have, I think, until nightfall. You must come, and tell me who you are. And why you are here.\"\n\nShe turned away and passed regally and silently within the doors, into the depths of the great ice tree.\n\n\"If we only have until nightfall before that barrier falls and all of Ker's army spills into this place,\" Henry said to the others. \"Shouldn't we bethinking about evacuating? Getting all the Undine somewhere else? Somewhere safe?\"\n\nThe woman paused, and without looking back, raised a hand and beckoned them to follow her within." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There are no other Undine,\" she said softly. \"None waking. I am the last. My name is Fluensaltuma. Come with me.\"\n\nThey passed within the great tree, exchanging bewildered glances. Robin had been expecting something out of the snow queen within, that old fairy tale with the cold-hearted queen who lived in a palace of ice. Arching staircases perhaps, clear as crystal, great carved and decorative columns of ice, glittering and resplendent. Maybe icicle chandeliers.\n\nThe interior space of Hiernarbos, however, was as strange and alien as their unusual, unearthly host.\n\nThe trunk was entirely hollow, avast shaft reaching up dizzyingly above them. Great sheets of meltwater ran continually down the insides, a shifting skin of water, flowing endlessly along the walls. The wide floor was a shallow pool, in the centre of which was a wide, circular dais onto which the translucent being led the assembled children. Her bare feet, shimmering and dark as green ice, clicked on the floor as she walked. Her shifting billowing wings floated out behind her in the warm breeze which blew through the huge space, causing a low and continuous howl, haunting to hear.\n\nIt must be like an igloo, Robin thought. In principal of course, not design. Made of ice but warm inside. The continually falling sheets of water pushed air upward along the wide empty tube of the tree trunk, carrying with it a thin fog. Suspended water mist hung in the air all around them, giving everything a diffused misty quality.\n\nThe walls, which he had at first thought to have been intricately carved, he now saw were lined not with sculptures, but with row upon row of Undine. They stood, affixed to the walls like statues. Calm, composed, their skins various depths of blue and green ice, eyes closed, hands clasped in laps, every head bald and identical. They covered every inch of the walls, encircling them and standing on one another's heads, stacked like glacial sardines and spiralling up onwards in endless columns beyond the reach of his sight into the rainbow-laced mists above." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There were thousands of Undine here. Silent and still, as cryogenically frozen as space travellers from a deeply surreal b-movie.\n\nThe meltwater flowed over them all constantly like a rippling blanket and the mist curled around their limbs. None of them shone from within as their guide did.\n\n\"There are so many of them,\" Henry said, staring around. \"Are they, are they all dead?\"\n\nThe Undine, Fluensaltuma, looked at him curiously. \"When lakes freeze, are they dead? Is not life continuing, deep beneath the surface? Waiting, hoping for the thaw, for the spring to come and for life to return?\" She swept a hand graciously around the encircling sentinels, the multitude of icy figures. \" My brothers and sisters wait, still as the glacier. They wait for the thaw. For Eris' dark war to die. For her cruel reign to come to an end, and for the majesty of the Fae to return once more to the Netherworlde.\n\n\"Well, one of them has returned already,\" Woad said encouragingly, presenting Robin with a majestic wave of his arms. \"This here is the Scion. The actual really real Scion. He's not even a myth or anything, Fluid-satsuma!\"\n\n\"Fluensaltuma,\" Karya corrected him quietly and tactfully.\n\n\"I'm just going to call you Flue,\" the faun said decisively. He seemed to remember something. \"Oh, yes, and look, this is another one! We've only just found this one.\" He pointed to Jackalope. The older boy shuffled uncomfortably under the inscrutable, milky gaze of the Undine. \"I don't know his name, I only just met him, but from what I gather, he's okay. Boss seems to like him anyway, the tips of her ears are all pink, and that only happens when-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Oh, be quiet Woad!\" Karya hissed, her hands involuntarily disappearing into her hair around her ears. She folded her arms, and looked to the Undine.\n\n\"You are the only Undine who doesn't sleep?\" she asked, changing the subject quickly. Jackalope was paying no attention. He was eying the rows and rows of still and silent Undine with interest and narrowed eyes, as though wondering if their crystal skin was worth anything.\n\n\"One must watch,\" the being replied softly. \"One must tend Hiernarbos. Once, long ago, the nymphs lived with us. We were attended, we were worshipped. But the nymphs fell into darkness. Their hearts can be cold and thoughtless. They are flighty creatures, and are drawn to strength. We lost them all long ago to the Empress' vicious cause.\"\n\n\"Not all of them,\" Robin told her. \"There is a resistance against Eris, people who are brave enough to stand against her. One of them is a nymph. She's taught me a lot. I don't believe they are heartless.\"\n\nThe Undine looked at the assembled company one by one. Her face was unreadable.\n\n\"I know why you have come here,\" she said eventually. \"When the wars began, we hid this place. We lived in peace, but our lady, our greatest, Tritea. She held a treasure. A gift that we all knew would eventually be the doom of our home. We have hidden here, secret and safe, for so long. But I knew one day someone would find us, someone would come looking for the Arcania.\" She gestured for them all to join heron the strange circular pedestal. \"I thought it would be Grimms, those puppets of cruelty and darkness, or some other unnatural beast from the stable of Lady Eris. I admit, I did not expect it to be children.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She peered at Robin hard, her alien eyes feeling as though they were looking right into his thoughts. Light reflected under the glassy surface of her skin, ever shifting.\n\n\"I would not have believed the Scion was real, had I not seen it standing before me.\" She nodded slowly at his chest, where his mana stone lay, back in its rightful place. \"But I know your people of old, child. And I have seen this stone before. Long ago. You are of the line of Fellows.\"\n\nRobin nodded.\n\n\"I knew your father once,\" the Undine said. \"And your mother. We knew all of the Sidhe-Nobilitas. Our Greatest, Tritea, loved one of them deeply. Deeply enough to doom us all. Let me take you to where I can explain.\"\n\nShe raised her arms slowly, as though conducting an invisible orchestra. Her wings fluttered out around her, scattering the fog and causing the diffused light to break apart everywhere into rainbows.\n\nThe rush of meltwater increased around the circular inner wall, and as the water ran down, intensified in force, the pedestal on which they stood rose slowly into the air, supported on a thick column of water.\n\nThey rose, ascending on this frost elevator, careful to keep their footing. Leaving the ground far behind and pushing upwards through the cold and beautiful mist above.\n\nUpwards they travelled, the mana of the Undine powering their circle of ice and stone onwards, to heights so dizzying that Robin was glad the mists were now all around them, and he could no longer seethe ever-increasing drop below.\n\nRows and rows of Undine covering the walls passed them as they moved. Their silent, sleeping faces ghostlike and still." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You keep strange company, Scion of the Arcania,\" she observed as they moved through the mists. \"A faun, a Fae without horns or mana.\" She glimpsed curiously at Henry fora moment. \"I am not sure what this one is,\" she admitted.\n\n\"He's a human,\" Robin explained.\n\n\"How exotic,\" the Undine replied thoughtfully. She looked to Karya. \"And you,\" she added softly, with an air of wonder. \"I never thought I would see your kind again in the Netherworlde. Though you are different. You are... less than once you were.\"\n\n\"I don't know what you mean,\" the girl replied. She was hugging her coat around her. The mist, though beautiful, was drenching them all as they soared upwards.\n\n\"As you will, one of seven,\" the Undine said graciously. \"Tell me, your sisters. They are living?\"\n\n\"I have no idea,\" Karya said quietly after a moment's pause. \"There's just me.\"\n\n\"You are not as old as once you were,\" the Undine said. \"Do you recall?\"\n\nKarya's golden eyes were almost lost in the fog. Fora while she did not reply. They moved silently upwards into the heights of the great tree. \"Hardly ever,\" she muttered eventually, half to herself.\n\nAs they finally reached the top of the great hollow tree, their rising pedestal broke through the misty spray of fog, delivering them into avast open space, the branches of Hiernarbos. The canopy above them was a sparking silver sky, as wide and domed as an immense planisphere. The sunlight filtered down through the foliage in countless golden beams, reflecting off the lacework of branches that spread out from the main bough all around, wide walkways of clear, prismed glassy ice. The air up here danced with light, and the music of the leaves was waves crashing endlessly on an unseen shore. It was the most breathtaking and peaceful place Robin had ever been." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They stepped from the dais onto the boughs of the tree, immense corridors of frozen and alarmingly translucent ice. The vast latticework of the tree surrounded them, a glittering maze. The dais descended back into the fog as the Undine led them along one of the walkways.\n\n\"This place,\" Jackalope said under his breath, mainly to himself. \"It's a treasure in itself.\"\n\n\"And to think,\" Henry observed. \"You spent years hiding in a cave full of mushrooms, living the cliché. A fairy under a toadstool. And you could have been hiding here, with Flue, in a magical fairyland.\"\n\nThe tall, silver-haired boy gave Henry astern frown. Robin smiled to himself. He was beginning to wonder if the surly, hornless Fae knew how to make any expression other than a grumpy smoulder. Clearly, he had spent a lot of time alone.\n\n\"There are more treasures in the world than jewels and gold,\" Karya agreed as they walked along, reaching up to run her hands along the underside of the foliage. It tinkled musically under her touch, like wind chimes, rippling and shining.\n\n\"Beauty will not fill a starving stomach,\" the Fae said in retort. \"I have gone days without food before now. Until you know real hunger, and real cold, keep your opinions about what is important to yourself.\"\n\nKarya glanced back at him. \"It's not just your stomach that starved in the wild then,\" she observed. \"You've been without company too long, Jackalope. You've forgotten how to speak to people.\"\n\nJackalope stared back at her, challengingly, though to his slight credit, Robin thought he looked a little embarrassed. \"I'm still not convinced you are people,\" he said." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Look,\" Robin said to him. \"You saved our lives out in the snow. And you said you wanted to come herewith us, so stop acting like we dragged you along. I thought you were rid of us when we got here anyway? You're under no obligation to stay you know.\"\n\n\"Yeah,\" Henry added grumpily. \"Go play in the fog with the other stone-faced statues if you want.\"\n\nKarya glared sternly at both Robin and Henry, looking irritated at their needling. \"He has spent enough time alone already, don't you think?\" she said. \"No one is going off anywhere on their own.\"\n\n\"I'll go where I wish, when I wish,\" Jackalope said. \"But I'm sticking with you until I get my treasure.\" The sun sent dappled shadows over his dour face as they followed the Undine through the maze of branches. \"Real treasure, that is. Things I can trade in the villages for food and tools.\"\n\nThey passed through an archway formed by crisscrossing branches into a hollow, an area where the boughs made a natural nest. The latticework interlocked, creating a wide, flat-ish bowl, the walls rearing up, vast, encircling and, Robin noticed with a queasy feeling, just as transparent as the branches. Below their feet, the world dropped away, down to the island and the lake far beneath them.\n\nFrom this height, they could seethe whole landscape, laid out before them. The lake, the far shore where they had entered, the soaring cliffs all around, threaded with waterfalls and hazy blossom, and the gap filled with the colossal barrier of water, silent from this distance.\n\n\"They are breaking through,\" the Undine said quietly. She looked composed, but an air of quiet sorrow surrounded her. \"I am holding the waters, but they are strong. They chip away endlessly with dark magic, like ants in my mind. I feel them now. They are relentless.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Robin was impressed by this creature, that she could form such a barrier, such scope and strength, from such a distance, and at the same time talk to them. She must be very powerful. But her power was not like Strigoi's, which had scorched his face. It was a gentler warmth.\n\n\"Is there nothing we can do to stop them?\" he said. \"There must be something.\"\n\nShe shook her naked head, its glassy surface shining. \"Eris is determined,\" she said. \"She has sent many. Very many. There are three Grimms beyond my waters. One, perhaps I could manage. But three? There are none who could stand.\" She held her glossy arm out, towards the water, as though feeling for something from afar.\n\n\"And another is with them. Something more powerful than I have ever felt. I recognise the presence.\" Her voice became thoughtful, and a little sad, Robin thought. \"Though I have not felt it in an age, and it has altered much. Terribly much.\"\n\n\"Eris's Wolf himself has come to oversee the taking of the Shard,\" Karya confirmed. \"We saw him outside Worrywort, the village not twenty leagues from these mountains. He is the darkest of all her shadows.\"\n\n\"He is powerful,\" Robin admitted, grudgingly. He looked to the Undine. \"He seemed to use a magic I've never seen before.\"\n\nThe Undine looked down at him enquiringly, her milky eyes thoughtful.\n\n\"It wasn't water or fire or air,\" Robin said. \"Something else. He dragged me from the cage I was being kept in by sheer will alone. That's what it felt like anyway. Like he could move things with his mind or something.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is the most advanced and difficult of all the Towers of the Arcania,\" Flue explained. \"The Tower of Spirit. The force of the mind and soul, of will itself. I cannot hold the barrier much longer against them all. There is time to rest, and for me to heal you all. You are so weary. And then you must leave this place. Before they come.\"\n\n\"Leave? As if,\" Woad scoffed. \"We're not the running away types, us. Do you have any idea how much we went through to find this place? We've been drowned, buried under cities, kidnapped and captured, nearly died to death in the snow. No chance. We're not leaving you to face that army out thereof horsemen and shadow puppets on your own.\"\n\n\"Plus, of course,\" Karya noted, with a serious tone. \"We came here fora reason. To seethe tomb.\"\n\nThe silver leaves rustled musically above them.\n\n\"The tomb?\" the Undine looked puzzled.\n\n\"The tomb of the Undine, Tritea,\" Robin explained. \"She was a guardian of a Shard of the Arcania, right? My tutor, Calypso told us that she died, after the war started. We've come for the Shard.\"\n\n\"As have the dark ones,\" the Undine observed.\n\n\"We want it to keep it from them,\" Robin assured her. \"To keep it safe. It's not safe here anymore.\"\n\nShe stared at him fora longtime in silence, her undulating gossamer wings of clear skirts billowing at her back.\n\n\"And you believe it would be safer with you, Scion?\" she asked eventually.\n\nRobin nodded without hesitation. \"At Erlking, yes.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Undine looked to Karya. \"And you, seeker. Your eyes are lost in time. Tell me, what have you seen in the future of the Scion. Have you seen safety, as he says?\"\n\nRobin stared at Karya, confused by her expression, she was looking at him with a strange mixture of caution and worry. It flitted across her face and was gone, hidden as always under her businesslike demeanour.\n\n\"What I see is my business,\" she said. \"And what I see doesn't always make sense, out of context.\"\n\n\"That does not answer my question,\" the Undine said.\n\nThe girl stared at the keeper of the pale tree. \"I trust the Scion.\" She glanced at him. \"I trust Robin Fellows. His heart is true. Erlking is safer than here.\"\n\n\"Many a heart used to be true,\" the Undine countered, looking back out across the watery valley. \"It does not take much to sway the course of a river. Especially amongst the Fae. Their hearts so easily fall into darkness.\" She glanced over at Jackalope, who was standing a little way back with Henry and Woad.\n\n\"Although with some, they leap, and others are sadly... pushed,\" she said.\n\nJackalope did not meet her eyes. Scowling, he turned away to examine the silvery leaves.\n\n\"If there is not much time,\" Robin said. \"Can we seethe tomb? Can we seethe Shard? Please?\"\n\n\"The way to the Shard will never open in daylight hours,\" the Undine explained. \"Water is ruled by the moon. The tides and the night are where we are strongest.\"\n\n\"We don't have time to wait for night,\" Henry said, practically hopping. \"Unless we want to be battling off centaurs and Peacekeepers. It's all well and good swanning around in shiny trees, but time is kind of an issue, right? Just take us to where Tritea is buried and we'll get the Shard, job done.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Tritea is not here,\" the Undine said.\n\nThey all gaped at her. Wind whispered through the clear branches peacefully.\n\n\"She... she has to be,\" Robin said. \"It doesn't make sense.\"\n\n\"The Lady Tritea was a woman in love,\" the Undine said. \"She rests at Hiernarbos, yes. But not here.\"\n\n\"That...\" Henry actually pointed at her, \"... makes no sense whatsoever. You do realise it makes no sense whatsoever right?\"\n\nWoad nodded in eager agreement. \"Everyone and their smoky devil dog is trying to find this place, to get into shiny water-lady land looking fora Shard, and it's\"not-here-but-it-is\"?\" he whispered to Henry, not remotely quietly. \"I think she's been on her own a bit too long this one. She's gone a bit'Jackaloopy', if you know what I mean.\"\n\nJackalope and the Undine both stared at the faun.\n\n\"The sun is setting,\" the Undine said. \"Rest for nowhere, all of you, there is power and peace at Hiernarbos. It will heal your wounds, and balm your aches.\" She looked to Robin. \"But you, Scion of the Arcania. I would speak with you alone. I have something you will need.\"\n\nGiven no real choice in the matter, Henry, Woad, Karya and Jackalope made a rough camp in the great branches of the trees, peering out worriedly at the peaceful dreamy valley as the sun lowered in the sky.\n\nRobin followed their strange host away, deeper into the twisted boughs, until after a time they came to a secluded twist in the glassy trees, where the silvery curtains of leaves fell all about them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Undine turned to face him in this enclosed and private space.\n\n\"You area strange creature,\" she said, not unkindly. \"You have afoot in both worlds, and yet you belong fully in neither. Such is the fate of a changeling, I suppose.\"\n\nRobin didn't know what to say to this. It was odd being called a strange creature by this beautiful alien being, with translucent skin beneath which light rippled and unfathomable oversized eyes.\n\n\"But you remind me of him. Of your father. You have the same jaw, the same cheekbones, and most tellingly, the same fire behind your eyes. Tamped down, by years in the human world no doubt, but it is still there. Like glowing embers, waiting to be rekindled.\"\n\nRobin smiled despite himself. \"You knew my father well?\"\n\nShe nodded. \"I was chief handmaiden to the Lady Tritea. Long before the war. She moved in the circles of your Fae court. As such, I knew all of Oberon's Fae Guard, the Sidhe-Nobilitas. Your father was a brave and striking man, Robin Fellows. You are very like him in so many ways. I see his strength in you, his values.\"\n\n\"I... I never knew him,\" he said haltingly. \"Or my mother.\"\n\n\"War takes everything from us,\" she nodded in agreement. \"It is a bleach which washes away family and life, leaving little to cling to. But we find the finger holds we can, do we not? Your friends. You value them more than they know. I see this in your eyes. I hear it in every beat of your heart. We all of us long to belong.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "She crossed to the screen of leaves and brushed a portion aside." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Behind, nestled in amongst the branches and twigs were bottles and books.\n\n\"Take caution however, in the company you keep, Robin Fellows,\" she said, selecting a dark bottle with a rounded base and long neck. \"It is not only the legions of Lady Eris who wear masks.\"\n\nRobin frowned. \"You're talking about Karya?\"\n\nThe Undine turned, the bottle clasped in her hands, and shook her head gently. \"No. I speak of the other Fae. The disfigured one.\" She held a hand up to the side of her head byway of explanation. Jackalope and his missing horns. \"He has trouble in his heart, and blood on his hands.\" She frowned deeply. \"Such dark blood. It stains his soul. I feel it pour from him in a keening wail. He carries such pain with him.\"\n\nRobin didn't know what to make of this.\n\n\"He has seen and done terrible things, that one. And they haunt him. He must take care.\" She handed Robin the bottle. \"It is so easy to fall into darkness, and you must take care of him. No one else will. There are few free Fae in the world since Eris came into her throne. Those who remain at large must lookout for one another.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, blood on his hands?\" Robin wanted to know, examining the bottle. It seemed to be filled with a dark and brackish liquid.\n\n\"That is his tale to tell, not mine,\" she said.\n\n\"What is this?\" he asked, looking at the bottle.\n\n\"Black kraken bile,\" she told him. \"I smell it on you already. You have tasted the kraken, yes? To become more one with the water.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Robin blinked in surprise. \"Well, yes actually, when I first started learning the Tower of Water. I couldn't swim, you see, and my friend said if I took some-\"\n\n\"You did not take enough,\" she interjected. \"Taking enough of the essence of the kraken will allow you not only to navigate the water, but to merge with it.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"Drink these contents, and you will be able to become one with the water. You will need this, where you are going.\"\n\n\"I'm not going anywhere,\" Robin insisted. \"It's like Woad said. If Ker's troops are coming through that wall, we're not going to leave you and the rest of the Undine defenceless.\" He didn't know what exactly he could do, other than be slaughtered in a show of winning solidarity, but it didn't feel right, escaping the coming wave of invasion. His blood ran a little cold at the thought of encountering Strigoi once more however. It had been bad enough in the snowy, bleak camp of his enemies. But at least that had felt a fitting setting for his dark and powerful presence. Meeting the Wolf of Eris here, in the sun dappled and verdant lake of the valley of Hiernarbos, surrounded by beauty and peace, would somehow be more nightmarish. He couldn't help but picture Eris\" chosen one, stalking through the lush grass, jagged sword in hand, numberless Peacekeepers at his back.\n\n\"You are brave to offer to stay, Robin Fellows, but we are not entirely without defences here,\" Flue told him, with a small smile. \"The tree closes fast. And the ice of its bark is harder than permafrost. The Undine can make this into a bastion if needed. I will protect my sleeping brothers and sisters until you find what you are looking for. It is my duty, not yours.\" She noticed his worried face and smiled. \"You cannot save everyone yourself, Son of Wolfsbane. Yours is, I think, another path. Now drink. Before the moon rises.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The sun had indeed grown low in the sky, and the shadows in the valley beyond their screen of leaves were growing longer. The beautiful valley was painting itself in the orange blazes of sunset, and the surface of the lake began to shimmer like fire.\n\nRobin uncorked the bottle, trying not to wrinkle his nose at the brackish smell. Steeling himself as bravely as he could, he swigged deeply from the bottle.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" a voice said behind them.\n\nHenry pushed through the leaves, swishing the silver curtain aside. \"We're all wondering what happens now. It's getting dark out there.\" He looked at Robin suspiciously. \"What are you drinking?\"\n\n\"Kra... ken... b'uh... ile...\" Robin gagged unintelligibly.\n\n\"This is a deep magic, and a path which the Scion must tread alone,\" the Undine said to Henry. \"It maybe very dangerous.\"\n\nHenry frowned, thinking fora moment, then crossed quickly to Robin and snatched the bottle out of his hand. It was already half empty.\n\n\"Henry!\" Robin was shocked. \"What are you doing?\"\n\nThe brown-haired boy ignored him. With eyes screwed shut, he upended the bottle and glugged down the remaining half of the liquid in three big swigs, gasping and wiping his mouth with the tattered sleeve of his shirt when he was done.\n\n\"Wow,\" he grimaced, coughing. \"That muck is... seriously... vile.\" He looked from Flue to Robin, who were both staring at him confused. He handed the now empty bottle back to the Undine, who took it from him with her glassy hands.\n\n\"Robin might be the Scion,\" Henry explained, stifling a belch. \"But he's not alone. None of this prophet'solitary chosen one'nonsense. If it's dangerous, what kind of a friend is going to let him go off on his own, eh? Wherever old blue eyes goes, I go too. End of story.\" He folded his arms stubbornly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Robin looked at Henry bewildered.\n\nThe taller boy gave him a sheepish grin. \"Well, you did travel miles to rescue me when old Strife and Moros kidnapped me last year, didn't you?\" he said, a little gruffly. \"Fair enough, it was a massive trap and you kind of played right into their hands, but still. Friends lookout for one another. They don't let friends go off into danger alone. Plus, you've got no commonsense, you.\"\n\nThe Undine glanced between the human and the Fae curiously. \"Perhaps I was wrong,\" she mused to herself. \"Maybe war does not only destroy families. Perhaps it also creates them.\"\n\nShe beckoned for the two boys to follow her, and they left the chamber of bottles and returned to where Woad and Karya sat waiting for them, both cross-legged on the floor and staring out at the deceptively peaceful valley through the vast open window of branches. The sun had set entirely now, and the sky was a bruise. Cobalt shadows were creeping between the rocks of the cliffs, and tiny pinpricks of light were appearing everywhere, green and bright, in their hundreds. The tiny lights danced and soared over the surface of the lake far below them.\n\n\"Pyreflies,\" Woad said, looking at the strange fluttering insects. \"Beautiful. They come before a battle.\"\n\n\"Where's Jack?\" Robin frowned. The older Fae was nowhere to be found.\n\n\"He left us,\" Karya said, not looking up. Her golden eyes were fixed on the barrier across the lake. The great wall of water seemed thinner, as though it was only just managing to hold its shape. \"He wants treasure, that one. Not companionship. Only what he can use.\" She shrugged. \"I can't blame him, I suppose. It's a practical approach. He wandered off into the branches down one of these walkways. Said he was going to find something of worth. Who are we to stop him?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Something of worth? Yeah, clearly not us then,\" Henry observed. \"Good bloody riddance then. I know he helped us out and all, but-\"\n\n\"He followed a butterfly,\" Woad said absently, his own gaze still trained on the mesmeric pyreflies. \"It was on his shoulder. Followed it like a white rabbit down a hole.\" He shook his head. \"Shame for him, he's missing the pyreflies.\" The faun looked at Robin. \" Where have you been then?\n\n\"The Scion, and his friend here, were making preparations to retrieve the Shard,\" the Undine said. \"As I told you, Tritea is here, but not here. Our Lady, not long after the war began, left the valley. We were safe, we were hidden, and she knew that if she remained, she would eventually draw evil herewith the Shard she carried.\" She looked at Robin, eyes a little narrowed. \"She loved a Fae. And their love was deep and true. She left to live out the rest of her days with him. Under secret names, quietly, far from Eris and her reach. And there she died, and there she is buried, in a tomb long since drowned.\"\n\n\"It wasn't my father then,\" Robin said, a little relieved. \"We knew that she had this big love affair with one of Oberon's guard, but we haven't been able to figure out which one it was. I was worried that... well, you know.\"\n\n\"Wolfsbane Truefellow only ever loved one woman in all his life, Scion,\" Flue said reassuringly. \"You mother was a remarkable woman. Steeped in mystery, very alluring. How could he have had eyes for anyone but the woman he loved? No, it was another that Tritea loved. Another she escaped the war with.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There are no facts,\" Karya said suddenly. \"There are no books left, I remember so little, here and there, like snippets of a song remembered in a dream. It's so frustrating. All we have to goon are scraps and riddles!\" She reached into her coat and drew out apiece of parchment. \"Irene Fellows has had me working on a translation for this scrap of gods alone knows what for months now. She says it's important. But I can barely read two words of it. And the history of what happened to everyone after the war is so muddled. How are we supposed to make sense of it? Who was Tritea in love with? How can she be here but not here? Did she elope and go into hiding or didn't she? Was it Peaseblossom, Hawthorn? Who?\"\n\nThe Undine held out her hand calmly in the face of the girl's evident frustration. \"May I see?\" she asked. She took the parchment from Karya's fingers and read it in silence fora moment.\n\n\"Do you realise what you have here?\" she said at length. She was holding the scrap with something close to reverence.\n\n\"Well, no, we don't,\" Woad said. \"That's kind of the problem, haven't you been paying attention? It's always best to when Boss is doing what I call her quiet shouting.\"\n\nKarya was staring at the Undine. \" You... you can read it? she said, haltingly, her eyes wide.\n\nFlue nodded slowly. \"I am old, little seer. This is an ancient tongue. Used only in the very first times. Even the Fae do not speak it now, but they did once. This,\" she told them, \"is the writing of Titania herself.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Robin boggled. \"Titania? As in the Titania? Titania and Oberon? The rulers of the Netherworlde? That's her actual handwriting?\"\n\nThe Undine nodded. \"It is a letter she wrote, in this ancient tongue that few Fae even could read, and fewer Panthea. A good way to use a secret code. It is a letter, Robin Fellows, from Titania, Queen of the Fae, to your father.\"\n\nKarya scuttled over to the Undine, visibly excited. \"Robin's father?\" she asked. \"Really? I've only managed two words, and they both mean the same thing. Dark-dark. Although we also figured out Pax, we think,\"\n\n\"What do you mean, a letter to my father?\" Robin was stunned.\n\n\"Your father, Scion, was the most trusted of all the Fae Guard, first amongst equals in the Sidhe-Nobilitas. Titania wrote this coded message to him. Wherever your aunt obtained it, I can understand why she would deem it important. It may even give clues as to why Oberon and Titania disappeared from the Netherworlde in the first place.\" She looked at Karya. \"And you were very close with your translation, girl. Good work. But this word is not dark-dark. It names the Fae who our Lady Tritea loved and left us for. Two types of darkness yes. The night, and the shade.\"\n\n\"Nightshade?\" Karya gasped. \"Of course. Of bloody course! That's who she ran off with, when the war came.\" Pyreflies danced around her head like fairies in the deepening gloom. Glittering on the frozen branches in the twilight. \"So, she was in love with Nightshade of the Fae Guard.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What does it say? The note?\" Robin wanted to know. \"What was Titania telling my father about Nightshade for?\"\n\nThe Undine shook her head a little. \"I am not fluent, but from what I can gather, the Queen of the Fae was instructing your father to hide something. A map, a story, I'm not sure which.\"Take it to Nightshade\", it says.\"The locked box must not find its way to the hands of the usurper'.\"\n\n\"She wrote this before Eris won,\" Robin said. \"So Nightshade had something hidden? Something important to Oberon and Titania? And then when the Arcania shattered, his lover, Tritea took a Shard, and they disappeared. To a tomb long since drowned?\"\n\n\"Somewhere you need black kraken bile to reach,\" Henry added woozily. He belched discreetly, pulling a face.\n\nThere was a sound like thunder. It rolled along the valley, echoing from the walls. As one, they turned to stare.\n\nThe barrier across the valley, the solid mass of churning water, the only thing keeping the forces of Eris from them, collapsed. They watched it tumble, avast wave of water, roaring along the rocks, spilling inward into the placid, ever-darkening valley in a riot of roaring foam that crashed among the cliffs like whitewater rapids. Waves rippled out over the lake, and birds took noisy flight from the many blossom trees along the sheer rock walls, startled by the noise and wheeling into the sky, scattering the agitated clouds of pyreflies.\n\n\"They are coming,\" Flue said, with admirable calm. \"I can no longer hold the tide of water, or the tide of Eris.\" She thrust the parchment at Robin, who took it. \"You must go, now. Find Tritea, protect the Shard, and discover this secret held by Nightshade. If you do not go now, there will not be another chance.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Where are we going?\" Woad asked.\n\n\"Not you,\" Robin said. \"You and Karya stay here. Flue says the tree will hold Ker's army at bay, fora while at least. You'll be safe up here, high in the tree. Once I have the Shard, there's no reason for them to attack. I'll bring it back.\"\n\n\"I want to come with you!\" Woad yelped, affronted.\n\n\"There was only enough kraken bile for me.\" He glanced at Henry. \"And Henry.\"\n\n\"Where are you going, needing kraken bile?\" Karya asked, frowning. She looked equally horrified and annoyed at the two of them going off alone.\n\n\"Into the depths,\" Flue said simply. \"Down into the dark, to the drowned tomb of Tritea. We must hurry. Come, Seer, your skills are required also.\"\n\nShe led them from the hollow. Robin glanced back out at the dark valley. There was a great movement in the canyon, pinpricks of yellow lights in their hundreds. They were distant, but he could make them out. Torches held aloft by Peacekeepers and centaurs as they approached the valley proper. Spilling out across the grass in the wash of the fallen barrier.\n\nAlong low howl rolled over the valley, distant, but mournful and chilling. The call of Mr Strife's skrikers.\n\n\"Robin,\" Karya snapped urgently. \"Come on, there's no time.\"\n\nHe followed them, tearing his eyes from the sight of Mr Ker's army flooding into the sacred vale like a spill of poisonous ink.\n\nThe great tree groaned and creaked as they walked, sounding like cracking icebergs." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"The tree is closing,\" the Undine told them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hiernarbos is closing her doors. We will hold the tide.\" They were retracing their steps back to the central shaft, where they had first risen through the multitude of sleeping Undine.\n\nWhen they reached the edge of the vast trunk, staring down into the mists, into the wide deep shaft filled with fog, Flue stopped, her fluttering wings agitated, although her smooth face was calm still. Robin thought the light within her had dimmed. She had used up almost all of her mana.\n\n\"Why are we here?\" he asked.\n\n\"Because we are too high for you,\" she replied. She looked to Karya. \"You can tear between the worlds, yes? It is part of what you are. Existing in both worlds at once. You must open a tear, but not for yourself. For these two. To the human world. And it must be down there, at the bottom of the inner tree.\"\n\n\"The human world? Why? And why down there?\" Karya looked deeply confused.\n\n\"Because if you tear them through to the human world from here,\" the Undine explained. \"They will appear rather tremendously high in the air.\" She looked to Robin and Henry curiously with her milky eyes. \"I know only something of the Fae, and nothing of these human creatures, but I am presuming that you both would be likely to hit the ground far below like water balloons if dropped from this height, yes?\"\n\nHenry and Robin looked pale.\n\n\"The tear, the passage between the worlds, will slow your entry,\" she assured them.\n\n\"Now, Seer. Hurry.\"\n\n\"It's done,\" Karya said simply. Her hand was outstretched over the yawning chasm. \"There is a tear, at the floor. Well, about afoot above, give or take. I don't know how long I can hold it for though.\" Beads of sweat were standing on her brow, and her tiger's eye mana stone bracelet blazed like magnesium. \"It's incredibly difficult to tear at a distance away from myself.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Wait,\" said Henry, holding his hands up. \"Waitwaitwaitwaitwait.\" He stared at them all. \"Just how are you thinking we're getting to that tear down there then? I mean, you're calling that lift thing back, right? The ice elevator that levitated us up here?\"\n\nRobin looked at the Undine. \"She doesn't have the mana left,\" he realised. \"We're jumping, Henry.\" He felt queasy at the thought.\n\n\"We're what now?\" Henry balked. \"Are you mad?\"\n\n\"I can't hold this thing forever,\" Karya said rather testily through gritted teeth. She looked up at Robin. \"Be careful, Scion,\" she said. \"We will be fine here, just hurry, find the Shard and this locked box Irene has been searching for. And don't do anything stupid like getting killed. We can holdout against the Grimms and their army here.\" She managed a hard smile. \"Just... you know... don't take all day about it, okay?\"\n\nRobin steadied himself on the lip of the pit. He had never liked heights. This was a whole different level of vertigo.\n\n\"Seriously?\" Henry complained, panic in his voice.\n\n\"You did say I wasn't to do anything dangerous on my own, remember?\" Robin reminded him.\n\n\"Well, yeah, granted. But there's dangerous and then there's mental,\" Henry began, and then Robin felt a small hand in his back.\n\n\"Get going, numbskulls!\" Woad chirped. He had a hand on Henry's back too, and unceremoniously pushed both boys off the edge and into the mist.\n\nRobin's stomach flipped. He tumbled through the icy fog, weightless and rapid, wind whipping past his face." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And remember to bend your knees!\" the faun called helpfully through the mist, his voice receding rapidly as they plummeted down the shaft. Robin was too shocked to cry out, his arms and legs flailing as he went into freefall. Henry, at his side, made up for his silence with along and rather epic scream.\n\nAshe fell, his body tumbled over and over in the fog, so that he no longer knew which way was up and which was down. His mind gibbered in a flare of blank panic. Henry continued his wordless bellowing scream, and in the confusion of the fall, Robin thought he saw something in the mist. Another two figures above them, also falling. Woad and Karya? That made no sense. Why would they come in after?\n\nThere was no time for answers. The mists parted, and the floor of the base of the great tree's hollow trunk rose up to meet them. Like falling without a parachute, Robin instinctively held up his arms in front of his face, as though that would make any difference at this height and speed. Squeezing his eyes closed and bracing for impact, He tensed. Afoot before they hit the floor, in a mirage like shimmer, they hit Karya's tear and passed out of the Netherworlde with a dark and lurching whoosh." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "THE DROWNED TOMB\n\nHenry and Robin hit the ground with a bone-jarring slap.\n\nRobin rolled onto his back, gasping. He felt beneath him not the wet, icy floor of Hiernarbos, but the crunch of wet and gravelly sand. He stared up, blinking and gasping, into a summer sky, duck-egg blue and threaded with high white cirrus. The sun beat down on his face, hot and bright. They were back in the human world.\n\nA groan, long and self-pitying, at his side told him that Henry had made it through the tear too. Robin sat up woozily, his hands sinking into the warm, damp sand, to see his friend face down on the ground, arms and legs splayed. He looked like a flattened pancake.\n\n\"We made it,\" Robin wheezed. \"Henry, we're back. We didn't die.\"\n\nHenry's voice was muffled by the sand. \"Are you sure? I mean, I kind of feel like I did.\" He struggled up to his knees, spitting out sand, and looked around. \"Where are we?\"\n\nRobin stared too.\n\nThe heatwave currently gripping Britain was evidently still in force. It was baking hot and breathless, and though the sun had just set in the Netherworlde, it was midday here, with the sun high overhead.\n\nThe two boys were sitting on the shore of a large lake, its surface glittering in the light. All around rose high, rolling hills, craggy and dotted with sheep and heather. Beyond them, grassy green mountains, hazy in the sunlight.\n\nFrom one lake to another, Robin thought. This is the human world equivalent of Hiernarbos." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There were people everywhere: Walking their dogs along a path which circled the large lake. Young families paddling in the water's edge not too far off, the happy laughter of their children floating over to Robin's ears.\n\nA little way off from where they sat was a small hut with a playground attached, children milling happily on the swings and roundabout. Chairs set out on the decking housed people looking rather red and sunburned, enjoying ice cream, and on the surface of the large lake itself, several sailboats puttered serenely.\n\nHenry stood, wobbling slightly, looking extremely conspicuous in this setting. His school uniform was tattered beyond repair, grubby and stained, one of the sleeves torn off to the elbow where he had rescued Robin's mana stone after Strigoi's mistake back in the tent. His messy brown hair, never tame at the best of times, stuck up allover his head. He looked like an extra from a zombie movie.\n\nShielding his eyes from the sun, he peered up. \"Look, there are people hang-gliding up there.\"\n\nNo one seemed to have noticed them yet. Two wild and bedraggled teenagers were bound to draw attention, and he was sure he looked just as trail-weary as Henry. Everyone around them was relaxed, enjoying the sun, completely oblivious of the fact that the width of a shadow away, a dark and dangerous army were racing like a tide of doom over the very ground they lounged on.\n\n\"I can hear an ice cream truck too,\" Henry observed.\n\nRobin was trying to clear his head. Whereon earth were they? He assumed they must be north of Manchester, because they had only travelled north since entering the Netherworlde, very far north. He looked around but nothing identified his location. He was along way from home." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He thought of Karya and Woad, and the Undine, Flue, trapped in the dubious bastion of the great ice tree back in the Netherworlde." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Was Mr Ker's army of Peacekeepers and centaurs assailing them right now? Was the dark and deadly Strigoi already tearing down the sealed doors? It all seemed too surreal, sitting herein the sunshine, watching two young girls playing Frisbee in the distance with a golden retriever, not a care in the world.\n\nHe would have given anything at that moment to be able to contact his aunt or tutor. To get help. They would know what to do. But there was none to be had. They were on their own.\n\n\"Where's the tomb?\" Robin stood, aching. He turned full circle in the sunshine, looking around desperately. \"There's no tomb here, Henry! Flue said that Tritea and Nightshade were here.\" He pointed at the ground at their feet in agitation. \"Here, the spot in our world where Hiernarbos stands over there. But how? Look around. This place is a tourist trap, not a secret! I can see a National Trust hut right there.\" He pointed.\n\nHenry was equally confused. \"Can't you use your scion-powers or whatever?\" he ventured. \"You know, sniff out the Shard.\" He waved his hands in a hopefully mystical manner. \"Use the force, Robin.\"\n\n\"I'm not a bloodhound,\" the blonde boy countered. He stalked off urgently through the sand away from the lake, headed towards the pathway. There was a sign there, one of those tourist information points. If nothing else, at least they could find out where they were. Henry followed in his wake. \"Oi, holdup, will you?\"\n\n\"I thought I saw someone else in the mist, as we fell. Someone coming after us,\" Robin remembered. \"It doesn't make sense though. Woad and Karya wouldn't leave the Undine on her own. They'll stay and fight, if they have to. Why would they jump in after us?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Henry shrugged as they reached the sign, Robin gripping it with both hands and looking down through the protective Perspex cover. His hair was still damp from free-falling through the mist and the hot sun was already burning it off, making his head steam slightly. There was a coloured map of the lake beneath, with bike trails, footpaths and dog walks picked out indifferent helpful colours. Picnic sites and nearby car parks were highlighted with useful symbols. But, as Robin had expected, nowhere on the map was there a symbols fora hidden tomb of an otherworldly creature and her Fae lover guarding a Shard of the Arcania.\n\nHe supposed even the National Trust couldn't account for everything. But there was at least text alongside the map, so at least they knew where they were.\n\n\"Loch Morlich-Katrine,\" Robin said. \"We're in Scotland, Henry. Says here that Loch Morlich-Katrine enjoys one of the finest settings of any lake in the country. It is surrounded by forests and fringed by beaches.\" He read on, his lips moving silently in his urgency. \"Those hills and mountains are the northern Cairngorms apparently,\" he said.\n\n\"Fascinating.\" Henry stared over his shoulder. \"Does it say where the magic alien glass woman and the horned and mystical Fae who loved her might be buried then? I'm guessing not under the cornetto shop over there.\"\n\n\"No,\" Robin said. \"This doesn't make sense. This isn't a place Tritea and Nightshade would have come and \"settled down in\" after the war. The circuit of the loch is a very popular walk apparently. This isn't a secluded hideaway, it's a bank holiday weekend destination.\"\n\n\"Not the best place to hideout the rest of your days then,\" Henry noted. \"Hardly a hidden cottage in the woods, is it?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He suddenly leaned in. \"Wait, holdup Rob, what's this?\"\n\nHe jabbed his finger at a separate section of writing. There was an old grainy and sepia photograph of a village, dark shingle roofs and a church with a pointed steeple.\n\n\"The history of Morlich-Katrine,\" Robin read with interest.\n\n\"Henry,\" he said after a moment. \"This Lake, or loch, or whatever it is. It's not natural.\"\n\nHenry glanced at his companion sidelong. \"Nothing we ever have anything to do with is natural, Robin. Our best mate is blue and sings to a squid.\"\n\n\"No, I mean, it wasn't always here. It's only existed for the last ten years! Listen.\"\n\nRobin ran his finger over the tourist information. \"It says here that the lake is artificial. It was created by damming the valley, to provide a water source and hydroelectric for the nearby towns. There was a village here once. Just over a decade ago. It was bought out and abandoned. The whole area was sealed off and then deliberately flooded.\"\n\n\"I've heard of that elsewhere too,\" Henry agreed.\n\nRobin pointed to a grainy photograph showing the lake surface, and something like a shark's fin standing proud of the water. \"It says here that during that big drought we had the other year, the water level in the lake was so low, that the top of the old church steeple could be seen poking out of the surface.\"\n\nHe looked up at Henry. \"An abandoned village, flooded and forgotten. It's still down there, Henry. The whole village. Under the water.\"\n\nThey stared back at the lake, innocent and shimmering in the rare Scottish sunshine. There were a few windsurfers out in the distance, their sails white and blue." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Shard of the Arcania,\" Henry said, wonderingly. \"Not hidden in the Netherworlde, in the secret valley of Hiernarbos, but here, in the same spot on the human world side of things.\" He grinned. \"Who'd a thought, eh? All that guff about mystical doors and secret valleys, and it was lumped in a lake in Scotland all this time.\"\n\n\"This must be where they lived. And died,\" Robin nodded. \"They could be buried down in that village. And then the village was flooded. What better hiding place? Do you think they knew of the plans to flood the valley when they moved here?\"\n\n\"It says that the entire village was deserted at the time of the flooding... obviously. Bit cruel otherwise,\" Henry said, his eyes scanning the text beneath the perspex. \"Everyone was relocated. Oh, there's a local legend. Listen. It says the last occupants were an old hermit and his wife, who nobody could find. The village was searched high and low, but of old Mr and Mrs Paxton, no sign could be found. Rumours had been told in the village for years that the old lady was a witch, and her strange husband her familiar, and when they failed to appear, the decision was eventually made to flood the valley. Everyone assumed they had left.\"\n\n\"Some say that they didn't though,\" he went on. \"That their ghosts still haunt the waters at night, the couple who refused to abandon their homeland, and who still haunt the depths.\" Henry glanced up. \"Mr and Mrs Paxton?\" he said with raised eyebrows. \"It's all a bit hokey, these touristy things always are. There's even a ghost walk you can do at Halloween, in hope of seeing the old recluses who were never seen again.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Flue told us that Tritea and her lover, Nightshade, wanted to escape the war, to live in peace, or in Pax, as she said.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He looked out over the water. \"Tritea and Nightshade never left the village, Henry. I know it. They're still down there. They died here, keeping the Shard, and whatever my father gave to them on Titania's orders, safe.\"\n\n\"We have to go down there, don't we?\" Henry said glumly.\n\nRobin's blue eyes narrowed. \"Somewhere down there is a ghost who guards a Shard,\" he said grimly. He absently reached up and closed his fingers around his mana stone. Seraphinite. Good for spirit magic, good for ghosts.\n\n\"And we're going to wake her up.\"\n\nThey were almost back at the shore, where the soft edges of the lake lapped at the pebble sand, when Henry caught Robin by the elbow.\n\n\"Robin, look!\"\n\nRobin followed Henry's gaze. A little way along the beach, in the opposite direction of most of the day-tripping families, there was a quieter spot by the water's edge where the treeline came right down to the water. Half hidden by the tree trunks was a small stone hut by the shore. It was flat-roofed and utilitarian, windowless, not much larger than a port-a-cabin, and its only feature was a steel door, looking sturdy and firmly locked.\n\nHenry and Robin were staring in disbelief as two figures had just darted from the shadows and disappeared through the closed door, as though it had been nothing but smoke. Fora second, Robin thought he had seen ghosts. The spirits of Tritea and Nightshade themselves. But the truth was even harder to believe.\n\n\"That was Jackalope!\" Henry said in disbelief.\n\n\"And Miss Peryl,\" Robing agreed, gobsmacked. \"What are they...? How did they?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Henry had already set of at a run towards the hut." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This made no sense. How were they here, either of them? And why on earth would they be together?\n\nThey reached the hut, gasping for air. The Fae and the Grimm were gone. There was no sign of them.\n\n\"They came through the tear,\" Robin said, staring around. \"I knew someone had.\"\n\n\"But how could that demented girl have been there?\" Henry wanted to know. He had run right up to the steel door. It looked old and rusted. There was no handle, only a small maintenance keyhole and a bolt which was rusted shut. No one had been inside this place in along time, despite the fact they had just seen Jackalope and Peryl melt into it.\n\n\"She couldn't have been there,\" Henry insisted. \"The only ones who got in when the barrier fell were us. I think we would have noticed a grey-faced ghoul girl as we made our way through the waters. I mean, it's not like there's a lot of places to hide inside a clear dragon's head made of ice, is it?\"\n\nRobin didn't know either. He joined Henry at the door. There was no visible way to open it. He tried to work his fingers around the steel edges, but he achieved nothing more than skinning his knuckles.\n\n\"Never mind how they're here,\" Robin said. \"I don't know why Jackalope is with Peryl, but Peryl is after the Shard. This place must be something. We have to get inside.\"\n\n\"Robin, it's just a maintenance hut,\" Henry said. He pointed to warning signs, rusted and faded with age which declared just this. The usual'keep outs\",\"no unauthorised access\", and'danger of death' signs which both boys had seen countless times on other such buildings and electricity substations. Henry was right. This kind of shed, old as it was, was nothing more than a toolbox for whatever government subsector was responsible for the dam nearby. Hydroelectric power, the tourist info had said. What possible interest could it be to the Grimm? And how had she, and the apparently traitorous Fae from the death-camps, have gotten inside it anyway. What could they be doing in there? It was a tiny hut, barely big enough for two people to stand up in." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There's no handle, there's noway in.\" Henry said. \"They just walked through the door like it wasn't there!\"\n\nRobin stopped, and stepped back, his eyes roaming allover the front of the hut.\n\n\"You're right, Henry,\" he said.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"It isn't there. The door.\"\n\nHenry stared at Robin as though he'd lost his mind. \"Did you hit your head harder than I thought when we fell through from the Netherworlde, Rob?\" He rapped his knuckles against the rusty steel door. It clanged solidly. \"It's very definitely there.\"\n\n\"No,\" Robin was still searching, his eyes roving allover the hut, around the warning signs, with their dribbles of orange rust, in between the stones. \"It's not.\" It had to be here somewhere.\n\n\"Here!\" he said, dropping to his knees, his hands reaching out to the stones. Henry, frowning, bent down beside him.\n\n\"Here what?\"\n\n\"This,\" Robin tapped with his finger. There was a small triangle, with an eye inside. It looked as though it had been drawn on the stonework in spray paint, if that had been possible, considering the whole thing was no bigger than his little fingernail. \"It's a glamour, Henry. Same as the one on the altar back in the church at St Anne's. The whole thing is an illusion.\"\n\n\"It looks and feels pretty real,\" Henry argued stubbornly.\n\n\"Well, it's meant to. That's kind of the point of a glamour,\" Robin said, frustrated. \"You can't just break them by knowing they're not real. You need a bloody potion.\"\n\nHe stood up, looking more desperate than ever." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Peryl must have Glam-juice,\" he said. \"She would be able to pass through, and Jack too, if she'd shared.\" He kicked out at the door suddenly in anger, making Henry jump back in surprise.\n\n\"Steady on, Rob,\" he said, worriedly.\n\n\"But now she's in there, and she's after the Shard, and we have noway of following her!\" He groaned in exasperation. \"After everything we went through to find this place! Finding the Undine on the folly at Erlking! Figuring out the puzzle box, nearly being killed by sirens!\" He kicked the door again angrily. \"Working out the location of the Janus station! Escaping the Grimms, fighting off Strife and Ker, and bloody, bloody Strigoi! We were nearly killed by an army of centaurs! We were eaten by a dragon! We found the hidden valley of the Undine! We jumped into that bloody sodding chasm!\"\n\nHe ran his fingers through his hair in desperation. He had never felt so utterly helpless. \"For nothing? To get this far and have the Grimms win, just because, on top of everything else, we didn't have the presence of mind to bring some damned Glam-juice with us?\"\n\nIn anger, he cast a Needlepoint at the hut. The javelin of ice erupting from his fingers was larger and thicker than any he'd managed to produce before. It howled the short distance and clanged noisily against the steel door, shattering into countless shards and raining a flurry of snow onto them.\n\nPerhaps Calypso had been right, he thought furiously. Water was ruled by emotions after all.\n\n\"Rob,\" Henry, who had stepped back cautiously in the face of his friend's rage, waved a little to get his attention." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Robin glared at him, lips tight, looking rather desperate.\n\n\"You mean this stuff?\"\n\nHenry had produced a small dark bottle from the pocket of his school trousers. He waggled it in front of Robin hopefully, with a lopsided smile on his good-natured face.\n\nRobin stared. \"Is... is that... where did you get that?\"\n\nHenry shrugged, casually tossing the bottle to Robin, who caught it in both hands, eyes wide.\n\n\"Back at the church in the city,\" Henry said. \"Karya had it, remember?\" He imitated the girl's voice. \"Always be prepared, blah blah blah... She passed it round and I must have pocketed it.\" He shrugged. \"I'd kind of forgotten about it to be honest.\"\n\nRobin couldn't believe it. \"Henry, I could kiss you!\"\n\n\"Ummm, please don't. I know where you've been,\" Henry said. Robin uncorked the bottle, examining the tiny pipette attached to the lid.\n\n\"There's still enough. Come here, quick.\"\n\nThe two boys applied the eyedrops, blinking and grimacing at the familiar sting.\n\nWhen his vision cleared, Robin looked back to the small service maintenance hut.\n\n\"Well,\" he heard Henry say behind him. \"That worked.\"\n\nThe tiny hut was gone. What stood before them instead was a large stone mausoleum of dark marble. Carved figures flanked the open entrance on either side, their stone robes flowing, their heads bowed low in respect, eyes closed. The heads of the statues were hooded, but the boys both saw that the carved women had no hair beneath the stony shadows of their head-covering, and from their backs, marble wings, outstretched and diaphanous. Not feathered, but styled after the odd, jellyfish petticoats they had seen sported on the back of Flue. They soared up from their shoulders, meeting each other and forming the arch of the magnificent entrance. Beyond was empty darkness." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Extend the story in collaboration with the author.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, necromancy\nAuthor: James Fahy\nTitle: The Drowned Tomb\nChapter: 32" }, { "from": "human", "value": "In the end he decided not to decide." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It wasn't important. Not yet. Maybe it would be one day, but there was an awful lot of dark water between here and there, and hardly any current. Time enough for that.\n\nMy mana stone was my mother's. Not just similar. Her very own, he thought to himself, in a calm, wondering tone. It was an oddly comforting thought. Like having apiece of her with him. And it's the only one. The only one in the world.\n\nIn the vast gaping blindness of the sky overhead, something monumental passed above him. Bigger than the sky itself, silent and slow. He couldn't see it, it was darkness against darkness, but he could feel it up there. Vast and unknowable. And it was interested in him. Golden eyes and the smell of Italian leather.\n\n\"You best wake up, Robin my boy.\"\n\nIt was Gran's voice, soft and kind, and playful as it had always been. He didn't really hear it, he knew that. It was only in his head. But it made him smile all the same. \"If you don't wake up,\" she said, \"it's going to melt.\"\n\nHe wondered if she meant the ice he floated on. It was blessedly cool against his skin. But he supposed she was right. It was time to go back. And anyway... the other one, out there somewhere in the quiet, unfathomable blackness, was thinking the same.\n\n---\n\n\"Scion!\"\n\n\"Rob mate, come on.\"\n\n\"Pinky? Really, it's going to melt if you don't.\"\n\nRobin opened his eyes blearily and looked around. He was sitting, propped up against a tree. It was sunset, the sky above him was threaded with gold and red, awash of burnished amber which poured over hills and down to the great lake. He had been moved. They were much nearer the populated area of the loch here. Close to a group of picnic tables. All the tourists seemed to have gone home for the evening as the light failed, and the landscape around was peaceful and beautiful. Standing or sitting around him were his tutor, Calypso, Henry, still looking as though he had been dragged through a hedge backwards and then half drowned, and impossibly, Karya and Woad. Alive and well and not remotely killed by an evil army." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Woad, who squatted on the balls of his feet on the grass between Robin's splayed legs, was eagerly holding up an ice cream cone, right under his nose. It was covered in sprinkles. It had a chocolate flake in it.\n\n\"Told you that would wake him up,\" the small blue boy grinned, looking around at the others. \"Come on, it's melting. Henry got it from the man in the musical van just before he drove off for the night. There's only us here now.\"\n\nRobin took the ice-cream from the faun with unsteady hands. Karya, who was looking down at him with folded arms, actually smiled a little, grudgingly.\n\n\"You're really here?\" Robin asked, sitting up properly. His head hurt a lot, and he was still woozy. He looked around at the setting sun and the deserted lake. The only things now on the calm surface were birds. \"How long have I been out? How are you here?\"\n\nHe was so relieved to see them, he leaned forward groggily and grabbed Woad in a fierce hug that was half headlock. The faun struggled. \"Oi, leave off!\" he yelped. \"That ice cream is freezing! Are you mad?\" He scuttled away, hiding behind Karya's legs cautiously. \"Is he mad? Did snapping a Shard snap his mind, like you said it might?\" He was looking up at Calypso.\n\nThe nymph shook her head softly. In the setting sun, her pale hair looked afire. \"He appears to be fine. He is made of stern stuff indeed. It seems, Robin Fellows, that you found your guts after all.\"\n\nRobin demanded an explanation, and Henry demanded he eat something first. It was the best thing, he said, when you'd hit your head or had a funny spell, according to his dad. Robin hadn't technically done either of these things but, he reasoned, being possessed by half a Shard of the Arcania and morphing into a young ice god fora while probably amounted to the same thing ultimately as \"a funny spell\"." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So, Robin sat on the grass, feeling surreal and eating his ice cream, while they explained what had happened.\n\nCalypso told how she had been at Erlking, with his aunt and Mr Drover, who were both tremendously worried by the way, when she had felt Henry use his boon. A boon from a nymph is a service that cannot be refused, she had told them. Henry had called fora weapon, and so a weapon he had got. And when Robin had later called for help, he must have been thinking about Calypso, as she had found herself dragged to him, immediately and without argument.\n\nShe folded her arms here. \"And a good job you did call me too,\" she said. \"When I found you, and your human friend told me what had happened with the Shard, how my old homeland was under siege, I knew I needed to go. I had promised myself I would never return, knowing I would be turned away.\" She shrugged. \"But with the Shard fragment, I knew I would have the power to help, whether they wanted my help or not.\"\n\n\"She left me with you and disappeared off up into the mountains,\" Henry said. \"You were out for so long, Rob, I thought you'd slipped into a coma or something.\"\n\nCalypso explained how there was a Janus station, not fifteen miles from here, up in the Scottish mountains. Only a small back and forth, but once in the Netherworlde, with Henry's directions, she could use Janus after Janus to get to the army camp of Ker, now deserted, and into the valley of the Undine.\n\n\"Of course, Ker hadn't left the pass completely unguarded,\" she said lightly. \"There were a contingency of centaurs blocking the way. Presumably to stop anyone from escaping.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What did you do?\" Robin asked the delicate sylph-like woman. She shrugged.\n\n\"I killed them, of course,\" she said lightly. \"And then I took back the valley.\"\n\n\"We saw her from the tree,\" Karya said. \"The army of Ker had routed the valley. They couldn't get into the tree itself, and any fires they set, and they tried plenty, the tree didn't burn. It's ice after all, and old... old ice. We were reasonably safe in the boughs, but it was just a matter of time before they breached the doors.\"\n\n\"They had strong Mancers,\" Woad nodded. \"Dark magic, smells like fish guts. And that scary man, the one like a dark crow with a demon's face. He was stronger than any other. He made my head hurt, even all the way up in the tree.\"\n\nKarya told Robin how Calypso, using the power of the Shard, had commanded the great lake. Flooding the entire valley, end to end, cliff-face to cliff-face, with powerful whitewater. She had washed the army off its feet and swept them out of the valley.\n\n\"The water came up so high,\" Woad said, impressed. \"Almost to the lower branches of the big tree, it was like the end of the world, Pinky. The sky full of the Peacekeepers' fire, and the whole world below churning like a furious ocean!\"\n\n\"They're all gone then? Dead?\" Robin wanted to know.\n\n\"The centaurs who didn't escape, yes, and the horde of Peacekeepers, but they are just mana made solid. Ker will make more, though it will take along time for him to gather his strength again.\" Karya frowned. \"Ker and Strife escaped. And the Wolf. Flew off on skrikers. We didn't know what happened to the other Grimm. We had no idea that she was with you in the human world.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Calypso explained how once the valley was emptied, and the waters drained away, she had filled the entrance canyon, where the Undine's barrier had stood, with solid ice. \"Stronger than stone or steel, and half a mile thick. No one will get through there again in a hurry.\"\n\n\"Not that there's any reason to, now,\" Karya observed. \"The Shard was never at Hiernarbos anyway. It was here, in the human world all along. And now... well, now it's gone. There's no reason for Eris to bother with the Undine, not fora while at least. She will have more pressing matters to attend to. Peryl will present her with half a Shard.\"\n\n\"But we have the other half,\" Calypso said, holding it out to Robin. The pulsing energy and flickering light had gone. It looked like a large and innocent crystal now, the size of a dagger. Robin took it carefully from her.\n\nRobin peered at his tutor. \"I thought nymphs were only concerned with themselves,\" he said thoughtfully. \"Hardly in keeping, throwing yourself on a dangerous rescue mission against the forces of Eris to save my friends. I think you care more than you let on.\" He smiled.\n\n\"I care about remaining at Erlking,\" Calypso told him. \"Ultimately the safest place for me. If you and your friends were dead, it's likely your aunt may end my engagement. That's all.\"\n\nRobin wasn't entirely sure he believed her.\n\n\"And here we are,\" Woad said grinning. \"All of us.\"\n\n\"Not all of us,\" Robin said, looking out to the water.\n\nKarya looked grim. Silence covered the company fora moment as they all stared out at the deceptively placid lake. In the sunset, it was a bowl of liquid bronze." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Henry told us, about Jackalope, what happened. He made bad choices. Fear can do that. Is he still... is he still down there? Under the water?\" She hugged her arms a little, looking pensive.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Robin admitted. \"I saw Peryl leave. She was as full of the Water Shard's mana as I was. She used Waterwings and hightailed it out of there as it collapsed, same as me. She was too faraway. Last I saw of Jack's body, it was in the tomb as it flooded.\"\n\nHe looked down at his hands.\n\n\"There's something else,\" Robin remembered. The small locked box was at his side. He patted the lid. \"I don't know what this is,\" he said. \"But something tells me Aunt Irene is going to be very interested in the contents.\"\n\n---\n\nAunt Irene was indeed very interested.\n\nWith Karya's help, and many a tear, and searching of Janus stations, Robin and the others eventually made their way home, back to Erlking Hall.\n\nHis aunt, along with Mr Drover and Hestia, were all waiting to meet them as they finally walked up the steps in the middle of night and into the candlelit entrance hall.\n\nRobin had never been more grateful to be home as he stepped inside. He was exhilarated about the Shard, relieved about the saving of the Undine valley, and still numb from Jackalope's death. But mainly, more than anything else, he was tired and wanted to be home.\n\nErlking seemed so warm and welcoming. His aunt's expression, however, was frosty and stern. She stood in the entrance hall with her hands clasped before her, back ramrod straight, appraising them all as they entered in their rather sheepish manner. Mr Drover, by her side, had no such self-restraint. As soon as he saw Henry, the large man rushed forward, looking furious, and for one moment as he descended on the boy, Robin thought he was going to give his son a hefty clout around the ear, he looked so angry. Instead, he dropped to his knees and pulled a startled Henry into a tight hug, squeezing the life out of him. At the same time, he set of a gruff tirade of chastisement about how stupid he had been to go off alone into the Netherworlde and how worried they had been. Henry looked terribly embarrassed, his arms pinned to his sides as his father squeezed the life affectionately out of him. Karya and Woad both stood nearby, looking travel-weary and awkward, until Mr Drover looked up and suddenly lunged for them too, pulling them both down to their shock and surprise into a large group hug. Woad cackled helplessly. Karya looked mortified." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Robin didn't think that Aunt Irene looked beside herself with joy. In fact, the only person beside her was Hestia, who was shooting murderous looks with her little black hedgehog eyes at Calypso. The nymph, as usual, paid her no attention. Robin was guessing that Hestia still hadn't forgiven her for the freezing incident, however temporarily, in the corridor upstairs. He doubted it had done anything to thaw relations between the two.\n\n\"Welcome home, my ward,\" Aunt Irene said formally. \"I see that you are not dead.\" She nodded, a little awkwardly.\n\nRobin opened his mouth to begin to apologise to her, but she raised her hand to silence him. \"Understand this, Robin,\" she said, strictly. \"For leaving Erlking without my permission, I am... furious.\" She lowered her hand. \"However, I am given to understand that you made this decision based on sound advice, and with the blessings at the time of your tutor.\" Her steely eyes flicked fora second to the nymph and back to Robin.\n\n\"And given that before I departed, I gave you strict and explicit instructions to follow the advice and instruction of your tutor, I see that technically, you were only doing exactly what I told you to do.\" Her eyes softened a little. \"So, the person I am furious with is not you. It is myself.\"\n\nShe bade Robin to follow her from the great entrance hall and into aside study, which he did, trailing apprehensively in the wake of her silk skirts. He closed the doors behind him, cutting them off from the others. \"I am, however, appalled to hear that you have been in such danger. I am, at the same time, immensely proud that you overcame every challenge you met and most importantly, you managed not to be killed or to lose even a single limb.\" She sat at her desk and indicated for Robin to sit opposite her. He did so without a word. His instinct told him that silence was the best course of action right now. \"I am also worried, that Eris has half a Shard of the Arcania in her possession, and at the same time, I am greatly overjoyed that we have the other half.\" She sighed, steepling her fingers under her chin and peering at Robin for several long seconds over the rim of her half-moon spectacles." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"In short, then, and to summarise: I am furious, understanding, worried, relieved, appalled, proud and overjoyed. All at once.\" She sighed, rubbing at the bridge of her nose and replacing her half-moon spectacles. \"If this is what parents feel like most of the time, then I am glad, my young ward, that I never had any children of my own.\"\n\nRobin couldn't suppress a small smile.\n\nShe smiled a little too. The tiniest twitch in the corners of her mouth. Her eyes, as ever, were sharp as diamond, but there was something in them. Pride perhaps. \"Welcome home, Robin Fellows. You immensely brave fool.\"\n\nRobin slept for almost a full day and night. So too, he learned later, did Henry and Karya. Woad was eager to check on Inky, who he discovered to his relief, had been fed and cared for by Mr Drover, who'd had the sense to keep the kraken's existence secret from Hestia.\n\nBefore long they felt more themselves, and had been fed back to health, rather aggressively, by the muttering housekeeper, who kept complaining that they had all gotten shamefully thin on their travels, despite Robin pointing out several times that it had only been a couple of days. She seemed not to hear him, pushing more plates of sausage rolls at them during every meal, accompanied by murderous oaths that she was most certainly not going to have anyone accuse her of not feeding the people of Erlking properly. Nobody would bring such shame on Old Hestia, least of all thoughtless, reckless children.\n\nWhen they'd had sufficient time to rest and recuperate, Aunt Irene gathered them all in the library. She stood atone of the great tables, having cleared the cluttered surface of books, as though giving a presentation. Robin, Henry, Karya and Woad were arrayed around her, a faint echo of the Sidhe-Nobilitas. The new generation of Erlking's guardian knights." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Calypso satin the corner, reading peacefully in a sunbeam, as though she didn't seem particularly interested in the proceedings." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On the table before them, resting tantalisingly under Irene's hands, was the locked box.\n\n\"The Water Shard of the Arcania...\" Irene said to them all, \"was a wondrous find. A true triumph to add to our arsenal. The enemies of Eris are in a stronger position than ever before. I understand it came with a high price.\" Robin stared at the tabletop, thinking of Jackalope, and how the ice had stained pink beneath him, down in the tomb.\n\n\"Power always does,\" Irene said, not unkindly. She indicated Robin. \"With the agreement of Robin here, I have placed our fragment in safekeeping, along with the Air Shard we already own. It may prove very useful in the future.\" She shrugged. \"It may not. The important thing is that Eris does not have it. Not all of it anyway.\" She drummed her fingers on the lid of the box.\n\n\"That is not why I asked you all here. As you know, since the beginning of the summer, I have been engaged, with the help of Karya here, in the attempted translation of an ancient script. How this script first came into my possession in the first place is important in itself, but it is a tale for another, later time.\" She eyed them all carefully. \"The important thing is to know what it was, and why we needed it.\"\n\n\"The scrap was part of a letter, so I believed, and my belief proved true, written by Queen Titania herself, once ruler of the Netherworlde, to one of her most trusted advisors, Robin's father, Wolfsbane Truefellow. It was written in a very ancient script. One which only a select few, even back then, were privy to understand. And for good reason. My sources and investigations proved correct. If we are to ever to best Eris... If ever we are to end her reign and reunite the Arcania, freeing the Fae and the rest of the Netherworlde from her tyranny... It is essential that we discover two important things.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What things?\" Karya asked.\n\n\"Firstly,\" Irene said. \"Why did Titania and Oberon, at the height of the war, when everything hung in the balance, disappear? And of equal importance, where did they go?\"\n\n\"You think this letter explains it?\" Robin wanted to know.\n\nIrene shook her head. \"Nothing so simple I'm afraid. But what I hoped, is that it may offer a clue to set us on the right path. Was it the fates who also brought us into contact with the tomb on the folly at the same time my research was going on?\" She shrugged. \"We may never know. Perhaps Erlking herself is trying to help us. Nevertheless, this letter told of a delivery of some secret and sensitive information to another member of the Sidhe-Nobilitas. We needed to find out which member, in order to find out what this sensitive information maybe. This was written just before their disappearance you see.\" She looked at Robin. \"Your mother was pregnant with you at the time, we believe.\"\n\n\"Well, we know now who Robin's father was delivering this so called sensitive information to now, don't we?\" Karya offered. \"Thanks to the Undine at Hiernarbos, who finished the translation for me. He was taking it to Nightshade, for safekeeping.\"\n\nIrene nodded. \"Indeed. And knowing what we now know, this makes sense. Nightshade and his lover, Tritea, had fled the war by this point, and they were living under assumed human names in a village in the human world. What safer, more secret place could there be to keep it, whatever it is?\"\n\n\"Sooooo...\" Henry said, his hands thrust in the pockets of his jeans. \"What, actually, is it?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Robin wondered too. They were all curious to know what could be so important to the King and Queen of the Fae, to demand such wartime secrecy. Was it a weapon? Some great treasure?\n\n\"We are about to find out,\" Irene said. \"I thought you should all be present, given what you went through to retrieve both the Shard, and it.\"\n\nThey watched as Irene opened the lock and swung back the lid on its oiled hinge. Her face was blank fora few moments, as she scanned the contents. Silence rolled through the library.\n\nEventually, tentatively, she reached in and withdrew two things. One was a rolled scroll, and the other, along piece of what looked like cardboard. She unfurled the scroll.\n\n\"It is... a list of names,\" she said after a moment's pause. \"Four of them. All members of the Sidhe-Nobilitas atone point or another.\" She frowned. \"Your father, Robin, Wolfsbane the bold, Peaseblossom the architect, Matthias the Illusioner, and Hemlock the sly.\" She scanned the scroll with interest. \"There is nothing more, except here at the bottom.\" She read aloud: \"\"The construction of the cubiculu-argentum must be secret. Only those named here are privy to its purpose and place, and each must only know their part in it, for the sake of both the Fae and the Panthea. This list is kept as record, and the relic enclosed herein must be preserved at all costs. It is the key to all things'.\"\n\nShe looked up. \"It is signed by the Queen. And the King also.\" She frowned. \"Though his signature is shaky.\"\n\n\"What's a cubiculu-argentum?\" Woad asked, looking confused." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "None of them, Irene included, knew.\n\nThe other item, which she laid out before them reverently, was more confusing than ever. Irene laid it carefully on the tabletop.\n\nRobin saw it was a library book frontispiece. Nothing more. Old and yellowed and a little frayed. Some of the stamped dates were still just visible, in blue and black ink, though they had been smeared and smudged overtime through wear and tear, that they were illegible. There was no name for the book, nor confirmation which library it had come from. It was most certainly not Netherworlde in origin. It was very human. There was even a trace of cellotape along the top still clinging to the cardboard where it had been torn from whatever book it had once belonged in.\n\nThey all stared at it.\n\n\"This...\" Irene mused after a few moments of confused study and silence, \"is anew mystery altogether.\"\n\nDays later, life at Erlking returned to normal– or as normal as Erlking ever was. Calypso had revealed over breakfast one morning that she had been invited back to Hiernarbos; her assistance in protecting the valley from the forces of Eris had apparently wiped clean her blighted record of treachery for abandoning them for Eris so many years ago.\n\n\"Will you go?\" Robin had asked.\n\nShe had sipped her soup thoughtfully and delicately fora moment, and then shrugged.\n\n\"I think not,\" she said, without looking up. \"You are still terrible, Scion, and need much training. And besides,\" She dipped her spoon again. \"I am already home.\"\n\nThat evening, when Henry was away down in the village on errands with his father and Woad was off in the woods, Robin and Karya, making the most of the summer while it lasted, found themselves walking down by the edge of the lake. Close to Erlking's border." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Do you think Miss Peryl will be rewarded by Eris?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Karya asked. \"For obtaining half a Shard?\"\n\nRobin shrugged. He had no idea.\n\n\"Karya,\" he said haltingly. \"I've been meaning to say, but I didn't know really who to say it to.\"\n\nShe looked at him with interest as they walked. \"It's about the Grimms,\" Robin continued. \"Something strange happened down in the tomb. I... saw somethings... and I think...\"\n\n\"Yes?\" she prompted when he faltered.\n\n\"I'm not sure the Grimms were always... Grimms,\" he said, trying to explain himself. \"Not as they are now.\"\n\nKarya didn't react fora moment. They walked in silence. \"Does it matter what they were?\" she said eventually. \"What any of us were? You were a normal boy, now you're the Scion. Your tutor worked for Eris, now she's on our side. And me? Well, I'm not what I once was either. Maybe none of us are.\" She stared fora moment, her golden eyes unfathomable as the lake water lapped the shore nearby.\n\n\"What's important isn't what you've been. It's what you are now. And what you're going to be. That goes for all of us. The Grimms are the Grimms. They are the servants of Eris, and they are dangerous as all hell.\"\n\nRobin looked thoughtful. She slapped him on the arm. \"Hey, it just means we have to be more dangerous too.\"\n\n\"The flute of yours,\" Robin said. \"I know you're not fond of talking about the past, but tell me just one thing. Why does it work, how can it compel you to come when played? Like it did back at the barrier?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Karya smiled half-secretive, half-sad. \"Because it's bloody powerful magic, that's why, Scion. Because it was the leash around my neck.\" She looked up into the hot summer sky. \"The beacon, or the flute, as you call it, belongs to Eris herself, Scion. She fashioned it. It's her mana which powers it. It's how she kept me. It's how she called me to her.\"\n\nRobin didn't know what to say.\n\n\"And stealing it from her and running,\" Karya said. \"That's how I got away.\" She grinned at Robin. \"And this is how I getaway from unwanted questions...\" and vanished, tearing away.\n\nHe grinned too, turning towards the lake.\n\nThere, on the folly of the small island, beyond the invisible boundary of Erlking's influence, stood a figure, staring back at him.\n\nIt seemed to have been waiting to be noticed. It gave a cheery little wave, and was gone, a flash of purple in the summer haze.\n\nRobin stared, wide-eyed.\n\nShrugging out of his jacket and kicking off his trainers, he waded out, and once the cool water was deep enough, he dove and swam. Since bonding with the Shard of Water, he was a strong swimmer, and he reached the small island in minutes, pulling himself up onto the shore, dripping wet, and staring around frantically.\n\nIt was no use. Peryl was gone.\n\nA soft movement in the bushes drew his attention, and Robin ran barefoot up the small hillock to where the ruined walls of the folly lay. Beyond the bushes, he stopped dead, not quite believing his eyes.\n\nThere, on the stones within the ruined circular wall, lay a boy. Older than he was, sleeping deeply, his torso swathed in bandages, and rolled wolf furs carefully placed under his head. His hair was ash grey, and placed carefully on the floor by his side was along white bow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was Jackalope.\n\nRobin hurried to his side, dropping to his knees, his fingers questing on the Fae's throat. There was a strong and steady pulse.\n\nRobin noticed a note, tucked carefully into the boy's hand, deliberately stickling up, waiting to be found. He pulled it free, unfolding the paper. In spiky black writing it said:\n\nScion.\n\nThis is as good as I could fix him. You have better healers at Erlking so he's your problem now. I can't keep him. Brother Ker would tear him apart.\n\nHalf a Shard each, half a good deed.\n\nDon't get used to it. When next we meet, I get to shoot an arrow through your friend's leg in recompense.\n\nI'll be back for the rest of my Shard. Let the games begin.\n\nP\n\nThere was a doodled smiley face and several \"x\" kisses, rather sarcastically drawn.\n\nRobin folded the note, staring down at the sleeping boy, at Jackalope, alive and peaceful under the sun of Erlking. A single butterfly flitted away, high up therein the evening sky, heading back into the wilds.\n\nAlthough, Robin reasoned, it could have been a moth." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Assist in storytelling, proceed with the tale.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, coming of age\nAuthor: Ian Gregoire\nTitle: The Exercise of Vital Powers\nChapter: 6" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The moment they had all been awaiting since nightfall was close at hand. The dark, billowing cloud languidly traversed the night sky, gradually eclipsing the full moon, and plunging the abandoned fort below into darkness.\n\nNow!\n\nKayden was the first to emerge from the trees, breaking into a sprint up the shallow incline towards the dilapidated south wall of the fort, her five companions in close pursuit. The black hooded cloak she wore-invisible in the dark-fluttered audibly as she ran with composed, steady strides. Her calm, economic running belied her intense determination. It was imperative they crossed the three hundred yard distance between the woods and the old fortress before the moon re-emerged from behind the cloud cover. If even a single person saw them, the mission was over.\n\nEyes fixedly ahead, Kayden could just about make out the stone masonry of the wall towards which they were charging. She and her fellow apprentices were almost halfway there.\n\nJust as Sinton, and then Lazar-two of the contingent's four male members-passed on either side of her, a glowing orb shot up into the air before erupting, its silent detonation illuminating the sky like a lightning strike. It had originated from the north side of the fort, allowing the would-be infiltrators to remain cloaked by darkness as they approached from the south.\n\n\"Keep moving!\" Lazar urged, barely above a whisper.\n\nIt didn't need to be said. Kayden was just as aware, as they all were, that simply being seen by one of the patrolling sentries meant failure. Though there was no reason to suspect the King's Guard on duty that night had specific foreknowledge of an imminent infiltration, they were sure to be in a state of heightened alert given the three failed attempts that week. Their use of Zarantar was a good precautionary countermeasure against the darkness; the invocation of Kiraydan would have the same effect as areal lightning strike in lighting up the night sky. It was also a disturbing development. But there was no time to dwell upon it further; it was probably only a matter of time before someone much closer to their position sent up an orb that lit them up like a lantern." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A second, and then a third and a fourth orb erupted in the sky in quick succession... getting closer.\n\nKayden reached the wall moments after Sinton and Lazar, just ahead of Bartis and Vartan-the other two male members of the group-with Neryssa, the only other female, arriving shortly after.\n\nThey all crouched down low, pressed up against the wall.\n\n\"We can use that as our point of entry,\" Kayden whispered, pointing to a breach in the wall about eighteen feet above and a little to the right. \"Sinton, go up ahead and make sure there are no surprises waiting for us on the other side of this wall.\"\n\n\"Hey! I was put in charge of this assignment, Kayden,\" snapped Lazar. \"Don't you start issuing orders. I lead, you follow.\"\n\n\"Whatever you say, oh fearless leader,\" retorted Kayden with barely disguised disdain. \"Go ahead and order him to make sure the coast is clear, if it makes you feel better. Just be quick about it, the cloud cover won't last forever and there's a patrol approaching our position from the west.\"\n\n\"I think she's right,\" Vartan whispered over Lazar's shoulder.\n\nGrudgingly, Lazar glanced at Sinton to give him an affirmative nod of the head indicating he should proceed.\n\nThey all watched as their colleague shuffled to the right to stand directly below the breach in the wall, before invoking Makfayshulat to levitate into the air then disappear through the gaping hole in the wall. Seconds later his head peered back out and he signalled down that the way was clear.\n\nOne by one the rest of the party levitated to enter through the breach in the wall to join Sinton with Lazar bringing up the rear." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Inside, Kayden stood motionless waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark interior." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She felt an all too familiar sensation nearby then her eyes were assailed by a pale blue light that lit the room they had entered. She spun around to pinpoint the source of the light, and saw the illumination orb floating in the palm of Lazar's hand. Without hesitation she thrust out her hand, invoking Yuksaydan to neutralise Lazar's invocation of Sinjaydan, darkening the room once more as the orb was extinguished instantly.\n\n\"What the-\" Lazar began.\n\n\"Are you trying to give us away, you idiot?\" hissed Kayden, cutting him off mid-sentence. \"If any of the perimeter patrols see alight coming from that gaping hole in the wall, they'll know we're here.\"\n\n\"It can't be helped. I need to take a quick look at the plans for the fort.\"\n\n\"Was there some reason why you couldn't memorise the layout, like I did?\" There was no immediate reply. \"It's all right, fearless leader, I know wherein the fortress we are.\" She made no effort to hide the condescension in her tone. \"If you like, how about I lead and you follow?\"\n\nMoonlight began to filter into the room as the cloud cover outside dissipated. Kayden could now seethe rest of the group more clearly. Vartan was standing a few paces to her left-tall and stocky, with the olive complexion common to most of the people of The Nine Kingdoms, and short dark hair. Unsurprisingly, he was wearing his customary grim expression.\n\nStanding together a few paces to her right were Bartis, decidedly average in height, build and looks, and Neryssa, slightly shorter than the young man beside her, with a svelte physique, expressive hazel eyes and straight, dark hair flowing down to her shoulders. Standing just behind her right shoulder was Sinton-tall and athletic with the swarthy complexion and thick, tightly curled hair indicative of his Yantashan ethnic heritage. His usually warm, friendly demeanour was now characterised by a no-nonsense, steely determination. Which, of course, left Lazar, the unusually fair-complexioned \"pretty boy\", standing directly in front of the breach in the wall ahead of her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden stood her ground as Lazar closed the distance between them in three languid strides to stand almost on her toes, aggressively infringing her personal space. At five foot ten inches she was taller than most women, but Lazar had four inches on her, and she absolutely hated that he was able to look down on her-in physical terms at least.\n\n\"I appreciate the offer,\" said Lazar with mock sincerity as he reached into his pouch. \"But I'm just going to take a quick look at the layout to get our bearings.\" He pulled out a rolled up scroll and waved it under Kayden's nose. \"Then, I will continue to lead the group to the successful completion of this assignment, following the plan I devised.\"\n\nHe walked past her, ensuring that he shoulder barged her in the process, before gesturing for the others to gather around him.\n\nKayden remained where she stood as the others discussed in hushed tones that they were presently situated on the second floor of the south wing of the old, abandoned fort. Their objective was located within the central keep of the fortress, on the uppermost floor of the four-storey structure, in the office where a military commander would have administered his forces two centuries ago. They would make their way to the centre of the fort to access the central stairwell within the keep, which was the only way to reach the top storey of the building.\n\nThe discussion quickly came to a conclusion.\n\nLazar instructed his five companions to form up in a line behind him. Both he and Vartan seemed to take undue pleasure in the announcement that Kayden should walk at the back of the line. She refrained from initiating an altercation with the pair, despite the temptation to do so. She duly brought up the rear of the party once Lazar had invoked Sinjaydan to create another illumination orb that he sent floating ahead of the procession as he led them out of the room into a corridor." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As the group navigated through dusty, deserted corridors replete with stonewalls haphazardly decorated by patches of mould, ceilings littered with cobwebs, and a musty smell lingering in the air, Kayden thought bitterly to herself how much quicker and easier it would be to complete the mission alone. Being compelled to work with others would only hold her back. Her cohorts simply weren't her equals, despite being two to three years older than herself. They were not as gifted, powerful or knowledgeable in Zarantar, nor were they as skilled and accomplished in martial combat. If the mission ended in failure she would be incandescent, to say the least.\n\nKayden was already certain that Lazar's plan-born of simple-minded, conventional thinking-was doomed to fail. But she would continue to feign going along with it until the opportunity to assume command of the group presented itself, which it would, sooner rather than later. In the meantime, she would console herself with her thoughts of how the successful completion of the assignment would bring her one step closer to becoming a full-fledged Sanatsai of The Order Of The Pledge At Kassani River. And with her nineteenth birthday only a matter of weeks away, she was well on course to becoming the youngest inductee into the Order. If she could maintain her current rate of progress it was entirely feasible for her to condense the mandatory ten years of training into seven, or maybe six years. Possibly less.\n\nAfter several minutes of silent, uneventful progress through darkened corridors, the first sign of trouble materialised. Lazar led the group cautiously to a turning that brought them to a wide, enclosed walkway connecting the southern wing of the fort to the four-storey keep at the centre of the location. Right down the entire length of the walkway several lanterns hung from wall brackets, lighting the path ahead. Lazar halted abruptly bringing his fellow apprentices to a standstill." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No, no, no!\" he muttered under his breath before extinguishing his illumination orb.\n\n\"Lights mean patrols inside the fort,\" said Vartan, anticipating Lazar's concern.\n\nKayden began to chuckle knowingly.\n\nEveryone spun around to face her. Sinton was the first to speak.\n\n\"Are you going to fill the rest of us in on the joke?\" he whispered.\n\n\"I just find it somewhat amusing that our fearless leader is surprised to discover that the King's Guard patrols the interior of the ruins as well as the outside.\" She locked eyes with Lazar, quietly directing her next words at him. \"But it's actually worse than you realise.\"\n\n\"How so?\" he asked, doubtfully.\n\n\"The intelligence we were provided within preparation for this assignment was incomplete-therefore unreliable. Your stupid plan never took this into account, or even the possibility that anything could go wrong, at all.\" The opportunity to assume leadership of the mission had arrived. \"If we continue to follow his lead we will fail the assignment, just like the other three groups did earlier this week,\" she added, in a thinly veiled appeal to Neryssa, Sinton and Bartis; Vartan would never side with her against Lazar.\n\n\"Oh, that's what this is about!\" Lazar said in exasperation. \"You just want-\"\n\nReflexively, Kayden raised a hand in a gesture to silence Lazar while simultaneously turning her head to look back down the corridor they had just walked through.\n\n\"What now?\"\n\n\"Shhhhh!\"\n\nKayden continued to stare toward the left hand turn at the end of the corridor; they were not alone. Her almond-shaped eyes widened and her face blanched at the sight of pale blue light emanating from around the corner. It was growing brighter, getting closer... Sinjaydan; the light was coming from an illumination orb. She rushed immediately towards the nearest doorway still having a door set in its frame. Gently, she pushed it open, wide enough to allow her to slip through, then frantically beckoned for the others to follow her, before disappearing inside." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sinton was the first to follow suit without hesitation. Neryssa was the next to move, closely followed by Bartis. Though seemingly reluctant to do likewise, Lazar offered no resistance when Vartan grabbed hold of his arm and dragged him towards the doorway. As they entered the room Kayden shut the door slowly behind them.\n\n\"You don't think someone else from campus followed us here, do you?\" inquired Neryssa in a whisper.\n\n\"Quiet!\" hissed Kayden. \"No talking... and no Zarantar until I give the all clear.\" Her authoritative tone brooked no disobedience.\n\nFor the next few anxious moments, it felt as though everyone in the room was holding their breath while Kayden stood with an ear pressed against the oak door, listening. She heard the muffled footsteps of what sounded like two people walking the corridor. Her impression was quickly confirmed by two distinct voices. Eventually, the sounds subsided then faded away; the corridor fell silent once more. She pulled away from the door, satisfied that they remained undetected, then turned to face her companions. She created a small illumination orb in her hand, casting a pale blue glow across the dilapidated room. \"I think we're in the clear for now,\" she said, her voice a little above a whisper.\n\n\"But clear from whom?\" asked Neryssa. \"Whoever that was out there must be from the Order, which doesn't make sense. Or we have a rogue Sanatsai on our hands, which makes even less sense.\"\n\n\"That's what you meant when you said things are worse than I realised.\" Lazar's statement was muttered more to himself, in a moment of perceived realisation, rather than a response to Kayden.\n\n\"Oh, for crying out loud!\" There was nothing feigned about Kayden's exasperation. \"Hasn't anyone else been paying attention tonight? Did I not mention, moments ago, that we cannot trust the accuracy of the intelligence we were provided with to plan the mission?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Just because someone decided to light a few poxy lanterns?\" challenged Vartan.\n\nIgnoring him, Kayden continued. \" The information stated there would be no more than a dozen men patrolling the perimeter of the fort; I counted almost thirty while we waited in the trees for nightfall. But that was hardly a surprise; the figure of twelve men was never plausible to begin with. The whole reason for soldiers from the King's Guard being deployed to guard a fort that was abandoned two centuries ago is to prevent bandits from using the ruins as a staging area to launch raids against the nearby towns and villages in the neighbouring province.\n\n\"Given the reputation some of these bandits have earned for themselves, it is doubtful they would be deterred by a dozen soldiers. Besides, the structure is simply too large for twelve men to prevent anyone from sneaking in unseen. You would need at least five to six times that number to adequately secure the location. So my guess would be the actual number of guards present tonight is closer to eighty, with most of them inside the fort.\"\n\nKayden noted from the expressions on the faces of her five colleagues that their confidence in the success of the assignment had been dented.\n\n\"If that wasn't bad enough, not only was the number of guards on duty inaccurate, it's now obvious that so too is the composition of the guards. The intelligence we were given led us to believe that only soldiers from the King's Guard would be involved.\"\n\n\"Well, how do you know that's not the case?\" queried Bartis.\n\nShe frowned at the stupidity of her fellow apprentice. \"Are you seriously suggesting that you failed to notice the invoking of Kiraydan to light up the sky when we began our approach?\" It was a rhetorical question; everyone had seen the lightning flash orbs erupting in the night sky. \"Wielders of Zarantar are not permitted to serve in the armies of The Nine Kingdoms; neither the Sanatsai, nor the Jaymidari, and certainly not the Saharbashi-if they still exist.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"And, bylaw, anyone who is born imbued with Zarantar is required to join the Order or have their Zarantar bound,\" interjected Sinton in understanding." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So how can there be soldiers among the King's Guard who are able to invoke Kiraydan?\"\n\n\"Exactly!\" Kayden was pleasantly surprised that someone else also got it. \" We should assume there are several Sanatsai present. Atone point during our infiltration five orbs went up simultaneously. So, at the very least, there are five of them outside, plus whoever that was we nearly crossed paths with moments ago, inside.\n\n\"Whether it's routine for the Order to provide personnel to assist the King's Guard or if they are here specifically to hinder our attempt to complete the assignment, it should be clear, now, that following Lazar's plan is no longer viable.\"\n\n\"Hey! There's nothing wrong with the plan,\" protested Lazar, with little conviction.\n\n\"No, Kayden's right,\" rebutted Sinton. \"Your plan made sense when we believed the interior of the fort would be empty. But now? Come on! There's noway we can stroll through brightly-lit corridors to reach the central stairwell of the keep if there are patrols inside. And according to the layout of the fort, that central stairwell is the only way to reach the top floor.\"\n\n\"That's... not exactly true.\" Kayden's voice was thick with smugness.\n\nSinton glanced sideways at her. \"Kayden, if you know something the rest of us don't know, now is the time to share.\"\n\n\"Before I fill you all in on what our next move is, I want consensus, right now, that I am to assume leadership of the mission from this point on.\"\n\n\"That's not going to happen,\" objected Lazar.\n\nKayden ignored Lazar's protestation, and looked expectantly at Sinton, Neryssa then Bartis, in turn. She knew it was only necessary to get the trio to side with her in order to overrule the objections of Lazar; it was safe to assume Vartan would support his friend, regardless. \"The three of you know I'm right. Persevering with Lazar's redundant plan will see this assignment end in failure. You maybe fine with that, but I'm not.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The tension increased as she waited on the silent ruminations of her cohorts.\n\n\"Oh, all right,\" piped up Bartis, finally. \"If you have an alternative to the agreed upon plan, then yes, I think you should lead the mission from here.\"\n\n\"I'm with you too.\" Sinton's decision provoked the faintest flutter of a smile to touch Kayden's lips. She never doubted his support; Sinton was one of the very few apprentices of the Order who truly appreciated both her abilities and her single-minded determination to succeed.\n\n\"What about you, Neryssa?\" she pressed the other young woman.\n\nVartan placed a hand upon Neryssa's shoulder, gripping tightly. \"Don't even think about it.\" His raspy voice was almost a growl. \"The last thing we need is \"girls sticking together\" shenanigans derailing this mission.\"\n\nNeryssa shrugged off his hand, irritation written allover her face. \"If it wasn't for Kayden this mission would be over already. We would have been caught, out in that corridor, a short while ago.\" She turned her head to address Lazar. \"Whether you like it or not, even you must admit this entitles her to an opportunity to pursue another course of action.\"\n\nAs far as Kayden was concerned Lazar didn't have reasonable grounds for prolonging his opposition. With only Vartan prepared to stand up for him it would be churlish not to acquiesce to the wishes of the majority. They all wanted the same thing, after all-to successfully complete the assignment-though it would no doubt irk Lazar if he was compelled into acceding to her wishes. He clearly didn't enjoy having to deal with someone who didn't simply fall into line, letting him have his way. Or maybe he just found her abrasive, headstrong, and downright overbearing; but that was his problem, not hers." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Kayden noticed the subtle change in Lazar's expression, and she had a pretty good idea what he was thinking." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "If he reluctantly agreed to the change of leadership, at least he would have the satisfaction of knowing that when the mission inevitably failed, he could lay the blame entirely at her door.\n\n\"All right! Fine! I guess the majority has spoken. I relinquish leadership to Kayden.\" He flashed Kayden an insincere smile to go with his begrudging tone. \"Good luck coming up with anew plan in the time we have left. Not only do you need to guide us to the top floor of the keep, unseen, to acquire the mission objective; you need to get us back out of the fort again, unseen. Then we'll need to make our way to the rendezvous point before sunrise.\" He appeared rather confident she wouldn't be able to pull it off.\n\n\"You needn't concern yourself with that,\" she quipped with awry smile. \"I already devised a superior plan a week ago.\" She caused the illumination orb in her hand to float up and over her head as she turned around to face the door behind her. \"Sinton! Bartis! Form up close behind me. Neryssa, you're in the middle. Lazar and Vartan, bring up the rear.\"\n\nNeryssa took up her position behind Sinton and Bartis. \"Aren't you going to tell us your plan?\" she inquired. \"We've just established we can't risk walking through lit corridors, and you implied there was another means for us to get to the top of the keep.\"\n\nWithout looking back over her shoulder, Kayden replied. \"There is a network of hidden passageways throughout the fort. We'll use them to forgo the need to access the central stairwell to reach the top floor, thereby avoiding any risk of bumping into a patrol.\"\n\n\"Wait a minute!\" blurted Lazar. \"There were no secret passages marked on the layout of the fort.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden peered over her shoulder. \"They wouldn't be secret if they were etched on a map for any idiot to look at.\" There was no attempt to conceal the condescension in her voice. \"Now,\" she continued, turning her attention back to the door in front of her, \"if there are no more pointless questions, let's get moving.\"\n\n\"Kayden! One more thing before we go,\" said Sinton. \"The Sanatsai we almost ran into earlier, how did you know they were approaching? You reacted before the light from the invocation of Sinjaydan became visible.\"\n\nKayden didn't immediately respond.\n\n\"I just knew,\" she conceded, evasively. \"That's all that matters. Now it's time to go.\" She opened the door, her illumination orb floated ahead of her as she led the group back out into the corridor.\n\nAfter several minutes spent retracing the steps they had taken through the south wing, Kayden finally began to lead the group through areas they had not previously been through. It wasn't long before she eventually brought the party to a halt at the turning into along corridor. She stared intently, straight ahead, at the T-junction at the opposite end of the corridor.\n\nSomething was wrong.\n\nAround the right hand turn of the junction, someone-a Sanatsai from the Order she assumed-was present. But there was no reason for anybody to be lurking there, at all. She knew that particular turn led into a short, dead-end corridor with a couple of ramshackle storage rooms leading off it.\n\n\"Why have we stopped?\" Sinton whispered over her shoulder. \"Is there a problem?\"\n\nLooking back over her shoulder, Kayden pressed a finger to her lips then returned her gaze to the corridor ahead. After a moment of deliberation she whispered, \"Stick close tome,\" then deftly tiptoed forward, down the corridor, towards the nearest open doorway. The rest of the group followed close behind." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Inside the empty room Kayden casually waved her hand up at the illumination orb floating overhead, her invocation of Yuksaydan neutralising Sinjaydan, darkening the room as the orb winked out of existence. Without preamble she began to explain, in a hushed tone, the situation. \"There is an access to the hidden passageways around the right hand turn at the end of the corridor. I have reason to believe there might be someone lying in wait for us there. I need the rest of you to remain here while I go ahead to investigate.\"\n\n\"Do you really think we're going to fall for that?\" retorted Vartan. \"We stay here twiddling our thumbs while you takeoff without us to complete the mission alone?\"\n\n\"Don't be silly, Kayden wouldn't do that,\" protested Neryssa.\n\n\"Of course I would,\" she said. \"But it's too late for that now. If I wanted to give you all the slip I should have done it before we even entered the fort. As things currently stand, I'm going to need you if I want to successfully complete the assignment from here. So you needn't worry about me ditching you all, as tempting as that idea maybe.\" She took a resigned breath. \"Anyway, as I was saying, I need to be absolutely certain someone is waiting around that corner before I decide our next move. I'm just going to take a quick look then I'll come straight back.\"\n\nWithout waiting for agreement, she quickly and quietly exited the room.\n\nOut in the corridor once more, Kayden crept stealthily towards the end, keeping close to the wall at her right hand side. As she inched further along the corridor, her certainty increased that a wielder of Zarantar was nearby, vindicated by the faint traces of a pale blue glow around the corner. The illumination wasn't growing brighter, meaning it wasn't moving closer, nor was it getting fainter, indicating it wasn't moving away. Whoever was around the corner was stationary." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden reached the end of the corridor, stopped, held her breath and listened. She could hear noises coming from around the corner, but those sounds couldn't possibly be what she was imagining them to be. But she would have to risk peering round the corner fora quick look, just to be sure, one way or the other.\n\nShe pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, pressed her back against the wall then slowly squatted down onto her haunches. She mentally counted to three then cautiously peeked her head round the corner.\n\nDrat! You have got to be kidding me!\n\nHalfway along the dead-end corridor an illumination orb floated close to the ceiling, casting pale blue light upon two figures standing below. The couple were engaged in a session of increasingly heavy petting. From the uniforms they were wearing Kayden knew at once they were Sanatsai from the Order. But she did not recognise either of them, which meant it was unlikely they were instructors from her campus. Wherever they were from, they were now being incredibly amorous between her and the concealed access to the hidden passageways set in the wall at the end of the corridor, and it didn't appear as though the couple had any plans to vacate the area anytime soon. The woman had just released her partner's straining erection from the confines of his garments, giving it a playful tug as they continued kissing. It wasn't long before she slowly sank to her knees to...\n\nKayden looked away then stood backup. She remained where she was, unmoving, giving thought to how best to draw the lovers out of the corridor. A solution to the problem came to mind rather quickly; she knew exactly what needed to be done. She nonchalantly walked straight back to the room where her fellow apprentices awaited her return.\n\n\"So what's the situation?\" asked Sinton." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"An unexpected obstacle stands between us and access to the passageways,\" she answered with a sigh. \"Two Sanatsai have decided that this is the appropriate time and place to be intimate with one another.\"\n\n\"You're telling us two members of the Order are fucking around that corner?\" Vartan inquired incredulously.\n\n\"Watch your language, you pig,\" she hissed. \"And, no, they aren't. But if we don't draw them outright away it probably won't belong before they are, and we don't have time for that.\"\n\n\"Can we assume you have a plan to get us past them?\" Neryssa asked.\n\nKayden flashed her counterpart a habitual smug look that likely went unnoticed in the dark. \"What do you think?\" The condescending tone made it abundantly clear that, yes, of course she had a plan. \"But I'm going to need a volunteer to come with me to make it work.\"\n\n\"Count me in,\" said Sinton.\n\n\"Not you, Sinton.\" Kayden's retort was very matter-of-fact. \"Vartan will be my volunteer.\"\n\n\"What?\" blurted the surprised apprentice.\n\n\"You seemed so concerned that I might try to ditch you all, earlier on.\" She hadn't forgotten about that. \"So you get to come along this time, to keep an eye on me. Besides, I think it's for the best that I keep you and Lazar apart before either of you get any stupid ideas about him reclaiming leadership of the mission while my back is turned.\"\n\nShe couldn't be absolutely certain in the dark, but it looked as though Lazar and Vartan exchanged guilty looks as they glanced at each other.\n\n\"So what's the plan?\" asked Neryssa." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Vartan and I will head back the way we came, to create a noisy diversion that should draw out our amorous friends from around the corner,\" Kayden replied. \"Chances are it may also attract the attention of any nearby patrols, so the moment the Sanatsai rush past this doorway to investigate the disturbance, you make your way around the corner then wait for me to rejoin you.\"\n\nShe glanced at each of her colleagues, awaiting further questions but none were forthcoming.\n\n\"Very well, if there are no more questions,\" she created an illumination orb, \"Vartan, you're with me.\" She sent the orb floating out of the door then marched swiftly out of the room after it. Hesitating briefly, Vartan dubiously followed in her wake.\n\nWith her reluctant assistant in tow Kayden did not stray too far from the room where they had left the rest of the group. She led Vartan back through half a dozen deserted corridors then stopped outside the open double doorway of a large room she guessed had once been a communal room. She glanced at a single doorway on the opposite side of the corridor, about thirty yards back the way they had just come. She gauged that she would have more than enough time to exit the communal room then dart into the other room, once she had created her diversion. There she would wait until the Sanatsai passed by to investigate the commotion, before making her way back to the rest of the group.\n\n\"What are we waiting for?\" Vartan whispered irritably at her side.\n\n\"Nothing! Follow me.\"\n\nShe trailed behind her illumination orb as she sent it floating into the room ahead of her. The pale blue glow highlighted the sparse surroundings of the room. There was only one piece of furniture in the room-a badly damaged oak table with one of its legs missing, against one wall. Presumably the room had been stripped bare when the fort was abandoned, or in the intervening years. She halted in the centre of the room then sent her orb floating straight up to the ceiling and silently stared upwards." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What are we supposed to be looking at?\" queried Vartan.\n\nKayden tore her eyes away from the ceiling to stare vacantly at Vartan. \"I'm going to assume that as a level seven apprentice you have successfully mastered all the applications of Zarantar taught as part of the level four syllabus.\"\n\n\"Of course I have.\" He appeared somewhat confused by her question, or perhaps her tone of voice. \"What's that got to do with the price of milk?\"\n\n\"So you have complete control of your invoking of Inkansaylar? You can form a barrier sphere around yourself, and maintain it?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he replied impatiently.\n\n\"And for how long are able to sustain it?\"\n\nThe frown marring Vartan's face made it clear how thrown off he was by Kayden's line of questioning. \"Five hours was the longest time I kept one up during training,\" he replied. Far from impressive but more than enough for her needs. \"Why?\"\n\nKayden slowly backed away from Vartan, taking small measured steps. \"For my diversion to work I need you to form a barrier sphere around yourself, now. And no matter what happens next don't let it down until it's safe for you to do so.\"\n\n\"You had better start making sense,\" he rasped threateningly, \"because if you're messing me around-\"\n\n\"Protect yourself, now!\" It was a command that brooked no dissent, an order that would not be repeated a second time. She observed with relief as a translucent, spherical shield-reminiscent of a large, soapy bubble-enveloped Vartan. A smirk tugged the corner of Kayden's lips, and then she extinguished her illumination orb, plunging the room into darkness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Without hesitation she thrust a hand upwards at the ceiling above where Vartan stood, invoking Yuksaydan." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Simultaneously, she turned on her heels and darted toward the exit as the invisible blast she had unleashed struck with ferocious force, obliterating a section of the ceiling. With the thunderous cacophony of masonry falling upon the shielded apprentice assaulting her ears, Kayden created another illumination orb to aid her rapid departure from the room. Out in the corridor, she dashed towards the doorway of the room where she planned to hide and wait for the arrival of the two randy Sanatsai.\n\nGiving no thought as to whether Vartan was as good as his word, she reached the room without incident, disappeared inside and extinguished her orb. Standing to one side of the open doorway-her back pressed against the wall-the sound of her own heartbeat thudded in Kayden's ears for what felt like an eternity. But barely a minute elapsed by the time she heard running footsteps go past her hiding place. She carefully peered out into the corridor to observe.\n\nSuccess!\n\nThe two Sanatsai had been lured away to investigate the disturbance; they were both standing at the threshold of the communal room. The female Sanatsai sent the illumination orb floating before them straight into the room. Immediately, both she and her male counterpart rushed forward swiftly into the room after it.\n\nThat was Kayden's cue to move. She created an illumination orb then exited her temporary hiding place and ran. She retraced her steps back the way she had come, through deserted corridors lit by the orb racing ahead of her, to rendezvous with the remainder of the group. When she finally breezed around the corner into the dead-end corridor, apart of her was almost disappointed to find her fellow apprentices anxiously waiting for her. She quickly shrugged off that feeling; she might need another sacrificial lamb to complete the mission, so she would tolerate Lazar's presence fora while longer." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"What the heck just happened?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said Sinton. \"We heard aloud crashing sound.\"\n\n\"No time to discuss it,\" replied Kayden. \"We have to get going, now.\"\n\n\"Where's Vartan?\" demanded Lazar.\n\nKayden brushed by Lazar as she walked towards the end of the corridor. \"The idiot got himself caught.\" Assuming he had survived. \"Which is why we need to move quickly, before he gives us away.\"\n\n\"There's no need for Vartan to do that. Our instructions for what to do in the event we are caught are clear: we remain silent and wait for one of the Masters to retrieve us.\"\n\n\"I wouldn't put your faith in Vartan's willingness to keep his mouth shut on this occasion.\" Kayden halted at the dead-end wall at the corridor's end. \"Fortunately, he doesn't know how to access the passageways. So, even if he does tell them our plans and they believe him, we still have an advantage.\" She grabbed hold of a metal bracket on the wall and twisted it ninety degrees, then back. There was an audible click before she pushed against the wall, revealing a door-shaped section that slowly opened inwards.\n\n\"You were right!\" gasped Neryssa.\n\nKayden peered back over her shoulder. \"Was that ever in doubt?\" Her incredulous tone was simultaneously dismissive.\n\n\"How could you possibly have known about this?\" Bartis wondered aloud.\n\nShe turned around to address the remainder of the group.\n\n\"No time for questions. The patrols will be aware of our infiltration into the fort; they'll be actively searching for us now. Just follow my lead.\" She made a move to turn back around, but stopped herself. \"And those of you unable to stop asking questions, please at least keep your voices to a whisper. While we're making our way through the passageways it might be possible to hear talking through the walls in certain places.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Finally, Kayden turned to face the dark entrance to the secret passages. The illumination orb floating overhead she sent forward before her, into the opening, then followed after it. The rest of the party followed behind her in single file." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fora good quarter of an hour, Kayden led her cohorts through amaze of dusty, narrow passageways. The decidedly roundabout course she took-going up floors, then down again; navigating, at various times, east, north, west and south-elicited the occasional complaint from Bartis. Where was she going, and why was it taking so long to get there? Lazar, too, contributed a gloating quip that she should admit she was lost. But Kayden paid them no mind. It was water off a duck's back. She knew exactly where she was going.\n\nEventually she brought the group to halt then turned to face the wall on her right side. She had finally reached the access point leading out of the passageways that would admit them to their mission objective-the office once used by the fort's commanding officer. The section of wall she was standing in front of was just as nondescript as the rest of the wall except for one notable difference: a short metal bar attached vertically to the wall like a handle, plus the bracket allowing the access point to be opened.\n\n\"The office we're looking for is on the other side of this wall,\" Kayden whispered, as she gently patted the wall. \"Once I'm certain there's no one in there, we can go in and retrieve the box.\"\n\nPressing an ear against the wall, she listened for any indication the room on the other side was not empty. She could hear no voices or sounds of movement. She was satisfied the room would be clear when they entered. A glance at her accomplices let her know they were waiting expectantly.\n\n\"Are we good to go?\" asked Sinton.\n\nKayden nodded before reaching up for the bracket on the wall. She gently twisted it ninety degrees, then back. Once again there was a discernible click. She grabbed hold of the metal handle then slowly pulled a door-shaped section of the wall inwards. Peering into the room beyond, she was pleased to see that it was bathed in moonlight pouring in from the Palladian windows dominating one side of the office. There was no longer any need to sustain her invocation of Sinjaydan, potentially alerting anyone to their presence with the tell-tale pale blue glow of her orb. She extinguished it then signalled for her colleagues to enter the room-before she did... just in case." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She took a moment to close the access panel behind herself then looked around the office. The few remaining furnishings were in reasonably good condition, though, oddly, nothing in the room was as dusty as it should have been. Somebody had recently gone to the trouble of doing a little cleaning, presumably after having concealed the box she and her fellow apprentices were tasked with recovering.\n\nWhile the other apprentices began rummaging in search of their quarry, Kayden found her attention being drawn to the entrance. The oak door looked innocuous enough, but she was perturbed by what she could feel emanating from the doorway. She was sensing Zarantar-but not the familiar Zarantar wielded by all Sanatsai. What she was picking up, now, was the much less familiar Zarantar wielded by the Jaymidari. It was an unexpected surprise, though perhaps it shouldn't have been. The Sisterhood Of The Covens and the Order went together like horse and cart. To all intents and purposes, though the Sisterhood was officially a separate and independent entity, it was still an integral part of the Order; or vice versa, as the case maybe.\n\nAccording to the women of the Sisterhood, Zarantar-a word from along dead language preserved by them, meaning \"the arts\"-was of three types: Zarantar Jist, Zarantar Shayd, and Zarantar Najist; three similar, but very distinct expressions of a preternatural force emanating from the same source.\n\nThe branch of Zarantar wielded by the Sisterhood was Zarantar Jist, meaning \"the pure arts\". It could only be wielded by women who pursued the calling of the Jaymidari, allowing them to channel the power of the ley-lines that crisscrossed the world, and were believed to be the source of all Zarantar. The Sisters deemed their expression of Zarantar untainted because it could only be used for beneficial purposes: to heal and preserve life. It wasn't possible to kill with Zarantar Jist, nor was it necessary to cause harm in order to wield it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The opposing expression of Zarantar, however, known as Zarantar Najist, meaning \"the impure arts\", was its antithesis. Its primary purpose was to inflict harm. It was wielded by those who sought to oppress people, to cause death and destruction: the Saharbashi. The word roughly translated as \"he who corrupts\", with reference to men who used blood sacrifice to overcome the obstacle that ordinarily prevented them from channelling ley-lines. This corruption subsequently allowed them to taint the power drawn from a ley-line in order to wield it for ill purposes.\n\nThe most recent manifestation of Zarantar known as Zarantar Shayd, meaning \"the grey arts\", emerged little more than three centuries ago with the initial appearance of the children who would later be dubbed as Sanatsai by the Jaymidari who first discovered them. It was an appropriate word-literally meaning \"living weapon\"-for in the years before the founding of the Order, the Sanatsai were taught to master their power by the Sisterhood who then co-opted them as weapons to combat the activities of the Saharbashi. Unlike the Zarantar of the Saharbashi and the Jaymidari, the power of the Sanatsai wasn't channelled directly from ley-lines. Though it was not fully understood how they came to be born, it was known that all Sanatsai were inherently imbued with Zarantar, so their power was invoked from within themselves. The Sisterhood deemed this third expression of Zarantar as'grey', for though no Sanatsai required blood sacrifice to wield their power, Zarantar Shayd could be used for both good and ill.\n\n\"Any idea what the box looks like?\"\n\nKayden's musing was disturbed by Sinton who approached her from behind.\n\n\"Presumably like a box,\" she replied, not tearing her eyes away from the door. \"We were told we'd recognise it if we find it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She remained preoccupied with the office door as Sinton inquired, \"Is something wrong?\"\n\nOffering no reply, Kayden instead marched towards the door, prompting Sinton to quickly fall into step behind her. As they stood together before the closed door Kayden stared all along the door frame-up the left hand side, across the arch-shaped top, then back down the right hand side.\n\n\"Are you going to let me in on what's so interesting about this door?\" pressed Sinton.\n\nByway of reply, Kayden nonchalantly waved her right hand across the doorway, invoking Yuksaydan. A series of glowing red glyphs began to appear along the frame.\n\nThere was a sharp intake of breath from Sinton. \"The door has been warded.\"\n\n\"No doubt intended to keep us from entering the room, rather than preventing us from leaving with the box.\"\n\n\"Then it can't just be Sanatsai who are helping the guards. This ward could only have been set by a Sister.\"\n\n\"Something we should have anticipated,\" Kayden said matter-of-factly. \"Sanatsai and Jaymidari have always worked hand in hand, even before the founding of the Order.\" She glanced at her fellow apprentice. \"Just one more surprise the Masters neglected to give us advance warning of.\" A knowing smile curled her lips. \"No matter, this could work to our advantage. Should any guards decide to investigate the room while we're here, they won't be able to enter. They'll need to call someone to break the ward for them.\"\n\nBartis trundled over, joining Kayden and Sinton at the door. \"We've searched the entire room,\" he announced. \"The box isn't here. It looks like the Masters have sent us on a wild goose chase.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That would explain why nobody has ever successfully completed the \"capture the box\" assignment,\" said Sinton, exasperated. \"We can't capture something that was never herein the first place.\"\n\n\"No!\" rebutted Kayden, turning her back on the door to cast an eye around the room. \"Some of the intelligence we were given may have been inaccurate or outright lies, but you can be certain the box is here... somewhere.\" She looked at Neryssa perched on the edge of the mahogany desk before the windows, her feet dangling off the floor. \"There's a small bedchamber through there,\" she said pointing at a door set in the recess of the wall to Neryssa's left. \"Did you check inside?\"\n\nNeryssa slid off the edge of the desk to stand on her feet. She peered at the door she somehow hadn't noticed before. \"No,\" she said. \"We didn't.\"\n\nKayden sighed. \"Well, what were you waiting for, an invitation?\" She said, marching to the door.\n\nThe other apprentices crowded behind her as she pushed it open. The bedchamber was empty save for the remnants of abed along one wall. From the small window in the opposite wall, moonlight diffused into the room, casting light on a dark metallic box on the floor in the centre of the room. The rectangular-shaped box appeared to be made of lead, adorned with silver-coloured engravings.\n\nA jewellery box from the Underworld, Kayden thought to herself.\n\n\"What are you waiting for?\" asked Lazar impatiently. \"Let's grab the box and get out of here.\"\n\n\"Do you really think it's that easy?\"\n\nIt was probably a stupid question. If Lazar was unable to sense the Zarantar permeating the room, he surely thought it was that easy; but Kayden knew better. Once again she could feel the Zarantar of the Sisterhood. It would be unwise to simply rush forward to pickup the box." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Oh, stop being such drama queen!\" Lazar barged past Kayden into the room, intent on snatching the box.\n\nShe grabbed his cloak to yank him to a halt.\n\n\"Wait!\" she snapped.\n\nLazar spun around-fists clenched-glaring at Kayden, but he made no further attempt to reach the box. \"I get it,\" he said. \"You think you deserve all the credit for retrieving the damned box. You want all the glory by personally delivering it yourself.\"\n\n\"Would you stop being so petty,\" said Neryssa. \"Kayden has been one step ahead all night. If she says \"wait\", then you need to listen.\"\n\nKayden skirted past Lazar to return her attention to the box on the floor. She slowly paced in a half circle around the box, like a predator stalking its prey. She paused, then stared up at the ceiling directly above the box, before looking back down at the floor.\n\n\"I knew it!\" she muttered to herself, before waving a handover the box. Instantly, another series of glowing red glyphs began to appear in a circle on the floor around the box. \"It's been booby-trapped.\"\n\n\"Ha! Is that what you're worried about?\" asked Lazar. \"I guess you're not as all-powerful as you thought. Even I can break a simple ward. Stand aside.\"\n\nKayden stared at the cocksure apprentice then flashed him a subtle, knowing smile. \"Very well, genius. Please! Go ahead and break this simple ward for us.\" She slowly backed away from the box, inviting him to move closer.\n\n\"Stand back everyone. Let's watch an amateur at work.\"\n\nApparently heedless of the fact he was being goaded, Lazar stepped confidently to the box then held out both his hands in front. At first nothing appeared to be happening. Suddenly, the glowing glyphs briefly flared, before seemingly changing to a gaseous state and dissipating out of existence with a fizzing sound." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Kayden looked on as Lazar crouched down to retrieve the metal box." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ashe reached to pick it up she closed her eyes and covered her ears. The moment his hand met the surface of the box there was a blinding flash of white light, followed by aloud noise like the rumble of thunder. Lazar was sent hurtling backwards through the air, out of the bedchamber, back into the office, where he landed at the foot of the mahogany desk.\n\n\"What the fuck?\" barked Bartis, rubbing his eyes.\n\n\"Like I said,\" Kayden said. \"The box has been booby-trapped.\"\n\n\"But we saw Lazar break the ward,\" said Sinton, eyes blinking rapidly, trying to regain focus once more.\n\n\"A harmless decoy. The real ward is up there.\"\n\nShe waved a hand up at the ceiling. This time, her invocation of Yuksaydan revealed a larger, more intricately patterned circle of glyphs that glowed a brighter, fiery hue of crimson.\n\n\"You will note the more intense glow coming from this one. It means-\" She noticed Neryssa had left the bedchamber and was now checking on Lazar's condition in the office. \"Neryssa! Forget Lazar. He's going to remain unconscious fora little while.\"\n\n\"But-\"\n\n\"Don't argue! Because of his stupidity we're going to have company, sooner rather than later. Get back inhere!\" Kayden resumed her explanation for Sinton and Bartis. \"As I was saying, the intensity of the glow means that whoever set the ward has linked it to a nearby ley-line from which it is drawing additional strength. The ward cannot be broken without first severing its link to that ley-line.\"\n\n\"And how are we supposed to do that?\" asked Sinton\n\nThe question, highlighting the groups reliance upon her, provoked feelings of smug satisfaction within Kayden before she looked up at the glowing red ward. A translucent, half-spherical shield materialised on the ceiling, courtesy of her invocation of Inkansaylar, to contain the circular pattern of glyphs." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"A barrier sphere?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "queried Neryssa. \"Is that it?\"\n\nKayden nodded. \"Now we wait.\"\n\n\"How will we know if it worked?\" Bartis inquired. \"I'm certainly not going to risk picking that box up.\"\n\n\"When the intensity of the glow has dimmed, it means the connection to the ley-line has been severed. Then I can break the ward. Then we can take the box and get out of here.\"\n\n\"Kayden?\" said Sinton. \"How is it you know so much about Zarantar Jist? I don't recall learning any of this stuff from the Masters.\"\n\nThere was no opportunity for her to respond. In unison, they all turned their heads towards the sound of someone attempting to open the door to the office. She darted to the open doorway of the bedchamber and peered out to investigate. The glyphs on the doorframe were still glowing red; the ward remained unbroken. Her three companions were quickly at her back to also hear the conversation of two male voices coming from the antechamber beyond the locked door.\n\n\"See? I told you!\" said the first voice. \"The door is obviously still warded. Even if anyone had managed to slip past us, they couldn't have gone inside.\"\n\n\"I'm telling you, whatever that noise was it came from in there,\" insisted the second voice. \"I'm going to fetch Terio. He can break the ward so we can go inside to take a look.\"\n\nThe four apprentices stepped away from the doorway.\n\nKayden promptly checked on the state of the ward protecting the box. The intensity of the glow remained undimmed.\n\n\"How much longer, Kayden?\" asked Sinton quietly.\n\n\"Any moment now.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "An increasingly agitated Bartis paced haphazardly back and forth." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We can't afford to wait,\" he complained, \"they're going to catch us.\"\n\n\"Cool your boots!\" Kayden demanded. \"They're sending for one of the Sanatsai; we still have enough time.\"\n\n\"No we don't.\" His rebuttal was more urgent this time. \"Let's just hide in the secret passage and wait for them to finish checking the room. Once they leave we can comeback for the box.\"\n\nKayden glared at her panic-stricken cohort with contempt. \"Are you an idiot? With all the rummaging around, not to mention Lazar lying unconscious right over there, they will know we were here.\" It was impossible not to sound condescending while explaining simple things to an idiot. \"They won't vacate the room until Lazar regains consciousness, and even if he keeps his mouth shut about the hidden passageways, there's no reason to think the guards will leave until they can figure out how we got inhere without coming in through the front door.\"\n\n\"Kayden!\" interrupted Sinton. \"I think you did it.\"\n\nShe looked away from Bartis back to Sinton who was staring up at the ceiling. She did likewise to see that the glowing red glyphs of the ward had, indeed, dimmed. Casually, she brought down her barrier sphere then raised both hands upwards. With the link to the ley-line severed it was a simple matter invoking Yuksaydan to now break the ward. Moments later, the glowing glyphs briefly flared, appeared to change to a gaseous state, then dissipated out of existence with a fizzing sound.\n\n\"You see?\" she crowed triumphantly, for Bartis'benefit. He said nothing in return. \"All right, Sinton, grab the box and let's get out of here.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sinton hesitated; the look of apprehension on his face clear for all to see.\n\n\"Oh, for crying out loud!\" huffed Kayden. She bent down to pickup the box. Nothing untoward happened as she grabbed the box then tucked it into a pouch beneath her tabard. She was inclined to chastise her fellow apprentice for having the nerve to doubt her, but something more pressing diverted her attention. Her head turned sharply toward the open doorway.\n\n\"Drat! They're about to come in.\"\n\nBartis reacted first, darting to the doorway to peer out into the office. The glowing glyphs on the doorframe had flared and were now becoming gaseous in appearance. \"That's it, I'm out of here!\"\n\nHe bounded out of the bedchamber in a futile dash to reach the hidden passageway. Neryssa attempted to follow suit but the door slammed shut in her face before a translucent barrier formed across the doorway, preventing it from being opened again. She looked back over her shoulder to see Kayden-left hand outstretched in front of her, right hand pressing a finger to her lips.\n\n\"Hold it right there, apprentice!\" came the voice of one of the guards on the other side of the door. \"We've got you. This assignment is over for you.\"\n\nKayden lowered her outstretched left arm, and pulled her right index finger away from her lips to beckon Neryssa to walk towards her and Sinton.\n\n\"How long has your colleague been unconscious for?\" asked a previously unheard third male voice-presumably that of the Sanatsai named Terio. \"And how did the two of you even manage to get inhere in the first place?\"\n\nAn annoyed looking Neryssa stood in front of Kayden. \"You've trapped us inhere,\" she whispered." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Would you rather be out there having failed the mission?\" Kayden whispered back.\n\nThe bedchamber door rattled as someone outside tried to open it.\n\n\"We're as good as caught anyway,\" whispered Sinton. \"Even if you could sustain your Inkansaylar indefinitely, to keep them out, we can't leave to deliver the box to the rendezvous point, can we?\"\n\nThe rattling stopped.\n\n\"The door's locked,\" came the voice of one of the guards.\n\n\"It shouldn't be,\" came the response from the third male voice. \"There are three more apprentices unaccounted for. They must have barricaded themselves inside. Tell them to come out; the game is up.\"\n\nThe man's knowledge of their numbers effectively confirmed Kayden's assumption that he was the Sanatsai called Terio whom the guards had fetched to break the ward to permit them to enter the office.\n\nNeryssa's shoulders slumped in resignation. \"You may as well let them in, Kayden, we're out of options.\"\n\n\"All right, apprentices, it's time to come out,\" the voice of first guard called out to them.\n\n\"She's right, Kayden,\" sighed Sinton. \"It's over.\"\n\n\"It's not over yet,\" hissed Kayden defiantly. \"Over here!\" She marched to the wall where the remnants of the room's bed still lay. Neryssa and Sinton followed, and stood on either side of her. \"The hidden passage that brought us into the office terminates behind this wall.\" She gently patted the stonework in front of her.\n\n\"If there's an access to the hidden passages inhere,\" whispered Neryssa, standing at Kayden's side, \"why didn't you just say so?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There isn't one.\"\n\nFrom beyond the door the guard barked out a second order for whoever was inside to come out immediately.\n\n\"If the passageway cannot be accessed from inside this room,\" continued Neryssa, \"then how are we supposed to enter?\"\n\n\"We go through the wall.\"\n\n\"Kayden, if we blast a big hole in the wall to escape,\" whispered Sinton, \"they'll know for certain we were here, then they can simply pursue us through the passageways.\"\n\n\"I didn't say anything about blasting a hole in the wall,\" replied Kayden cryptically. \"I said, go through the wall.\"\n\nNeryssa and Sinton exchanged wide-eyed looks.\n\nThere was heavy thudding on the bedchamber door indicating that the guards were attempting to shoulder charge the door open.\n\n\"Have you been drinking, Kayden?\" blurted Neryssa, in a hushed tone. \"We're still just level seven apprentices. We can't pass through solid objects.\"\n\n\"Exactly,\" agreed Sinton. \"We won't be trained to master the invoking of Naymutandushay until we become level ten apprentices.\" He could barely keep the exasperation from his hushed voice. \"Besides, to invoke it safely requires the wearing of a siphon cloak, like all the Sanatsai of the Order wear.\"\n\n\"What you say is correct. And it just so happens,\" Kayden tugged at the hooded cloak she was wearing. \"I created a cloak of my own a few months ago, though I didn't anticipate needing to use it tonight.\"\n\nThe pounding against the door grew louder, but the Zarantar induced barrier keeping it closed did not yield.\n\n\"Kayden, even if you could do what you're proposing,\" whispered Sinton dubiously. \"How does that help me and Neryssa? We're wearing these ordinary cloaks, and lack the ability to pass through a wall, anyway.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Doesn't matter. All you have to do is take my hand; anything I am holding will pass through the wall with me.\"\n\n\"You've done this before?\" queried Neryssa.\n\nKayden conspicuously hesitated before responding. \"Not through an actual stonewall,\" she conceded. \"But the principle is the same irrespective of the composition of the material you intend to pass through.\"\n\n\"In that case, you can definitely count me out.\"\n\nKayden looked expectantly at Sinton. Surely he would have more faith in her? But he silently shook his head at her, demonstrating that he didn't.\n\n\"This is the second time in quick succession you've doubted me today.\"\n\n\"No one could ever doubt yourself-belief, Kayden. But I'm not going to stake my life on your ability to take us safely through a stonewall.\" He looked guilt-ridden by the admission. \"You do understand, if you mess up, you could die in the attempt?\"\n\n\"I'd rather die than fail this assignment!\"\n\nThe exchange of dismayed glances made it clear that both Sinton and Neryssa understood Kayden's words were not bravado. She really did intend to avoid capture bypassing through the wall, even if it killed her.\n\n\"Kayden, would you listen to yourself.\" There was genuine concern in Neryssa's plea.\n\n\"Failure maybe acceptable for the two of you,\" Kayden retorted. \"For me, it's not an option.\"\n\nThe thudding against the door stopped abruptly, drawing the gazes of the three apprentices towards the doorway.\n\n\"They must be using Zarantar to keep you out,\" came the voice of the Sanatsai from the other side of the door. \"Stand aside!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Suddenly, the barrier shield Kayden created across the doorway began to slowly deteriorate. It appeared as though it was being eaten away by a corrosive substance. It was only a matter of time, now, before the guards could enter the room and the mission would be over.\n\n\"That's my cue to leave.\" Kayden returned her focus to the wall that stood between her and escape from the bedchamber. \"I'll see you both back at campus.\" She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head. The air around her appeared to ripple gently, like water. Then she calmly stepped forward towards the stonewall and...\n\nKayden walked right through the wall.\n\nFor several minutes Kayden navigated swiftly through amaze of passageways-her path lit by an illumination orb racing ahead of her. She had noway of knowing whether any of her fellow apprentices would reveal the existence of the hidden passages. Nonetheless, she was glad she hadn't let slip how she intended for the group to exit the fort undetected.\n\nThankfully, her uneventful course eventually brought her to the access point she was looking for; she had made it safely to the east wing of the fort, and down to ground level. Pressing her ear against the concealed opening set in the wall, she listened for sounds on the other side. But it was a mere formality; she knew there would be no one there. She proceeded to twist the metal bracket on the wall. There was a perceptible click then she grabbed hold of the metal handle that allowed her to pull open a door-shaped section of the wall inwards. Her illumination orb floated into the dark opening and she followed in its wake, closing the access door behind her.\n\nKayden was standing in what had once been a large kitchen area. She wasted no time in heading straight for the nearby walk-in pantry; she was eager to be out of the old fortress right away. On the wall, just to the right side of the open entrance to the pantry, there was metal bracket that she twisted ninety degrees, then back. Inside, a trapdoor hatch popped up slightly in the centre of the floor. The orb floated into the pantry to hover over the trapdoor while Kayden moved to squat down and pull the hatch open. She sent her orb down into the dark opening, watching as its steady descent down the shaft lit up the underground tunnel approximately sixty feet below. As she prepared to drop down into the shaft the presence of Zarantar nearby made her pause. Before she could gather her thoughts, she was startled by a pale blue illumination followed immediately by a chorus of slow handclapping coming from behind her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden froze.\n\nShe hadn't heard anybody entering the kitchen. That could only mean whoever was behind her must have been lying in wait before she even arrived.\n\n\"You did exceptionally well to make it this far, apprentice,\" said a female voice. \"I'm very impressed.\"\n\nKayden turned around slowly to see a woman standing just outside the entrance to the walk-in pantry, an illumination orb floating above her head. She recognised the other woman immediately-it was the female Sanatsai who had been getting rather intimate with a male counterpart in a corridor, earlier that night.\n\n\"You know,\" said the Sanatsai, with a smile. \"I've volunteered for guard duty during the'capture the box' exercise on at least half a dozen occasions, and I had no idea about any secret passages in the fort, let alone underground tunnels leading out of it.\"\n\n\"It's a wonder you notice anything,\" Kayden quipped, \"if you spend all your time lurking in dark corridors, down on your knees with a dick in your mouth.\"\n\nShe had come far too close to success to accept failure now. Goading the other woman washer only hope of recovering the situation.\n\nThe Sanatsai flushed; the smile vanishing from her face.\n\n\"Oh, it looks like I need to have words with your instructors at the Antaris campus about your appalling lack of manners.\" It was clear from her tone she was more affronted than embarrassed. \"In the meantime, follow me. I'll take you back to rejoin the rest of your group. You have failed, too.\" She turned around to lead the apprentice away.\n\nBehind Kayden, the orb she had sent down into the underground tunnel slowly began to rise backup the shaft, its pale blue glow gradually morphing into a brilliant white fluorescence in response to Kayden's surreptitious invocation of Kiraydan." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Affecting her sweetest, most insincere voice, Kayden said, \"Excuse me, Master. May I be so bold as to correct you?\" The Sanatsai turned back around, frowning. Kayden quickly sized her up and down. She appeared to be in her early thirties, lithe and athletic. Kayden had at least four inches in height on the other woman, with a notable weight advantage, too. This was going to be easy. \"Technically, the assignment only ends in failure if I am seen by anyone on guard duty tonight.\" She dropped the put on voice, adopting an aggressive, hostile tone to match the similar expression on her face. \"And by the time I've finished with you, not only will you not remember having seen me, you won't remember how I beat you senseless, either.\"\n\nThe Sanatsai appeared too stunned for words. That brief moment of hesitation was all the time Kayden required. A smirk curled one corner of her mouth then she closed her eyes. The lightning flash orb shot up through the hatch, back into the pantry, flew over her shoulder towards the other woman, then silently erupted with a flash of blinding white light. Opening her eyes she saw the Sanatsai stumbling backwards, rubbing her eyes. She charged forward out of the pantry, launching a flying kick at the woman that sent her hurtling backwards onto the floor. Kayden continued her forward momentum, diving forward to pounce upon her fallen opponent.\n\nThe Sanatsai regained her wits quickly enough to raise a leg up between herself and Kayden in order to flip the apprentice up and over her own prone body.\n\nKayden landed painfully on her back but scrambled swiftly back onto her feet to face the Sanatsai who was back on her feet, also.\n\n\"Have you lost your mind?\" screamed the woman." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Wasting no time with a verbal response, Kayden darted forward, unleashing a flurry of punches and kicks." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Sanatsai successfully evaded, parried and blocked the initial barrage but the intensity and ferocity of the attack increased, forcing her onto the back foot. Kayden's confidence in her close quarters, hand-to-hand martial training was quickly vindicated as she rapidly gained the advantage. Her fierce blows began to find their target with increasing ease, prompting a desperate counter-attack from her opponent who threw a succession of wild punches that Kayden parried easily before sweeping the legs out from under the woman.\n\nThe Sanatsai made a valiant attempt to regain her feet to prevent the apprentice from capitalising on the successful attack... but not quickly enough.\n\nKayden landed another kick square in the middle of the Sanatsai's chest, just as she was rising to her feet, knocking her violently back against the wall behind her. The heavy collision clearly knocked the wind out of the woman, yet she bravely managed to throw a couple of half-hearted punches in a futile attempt to fend off Kayden as she continued her brutal assault. Kayden ducked beneath the first punch, then in one fluid motion caught hold of the flailing arm of the second, throwing the Sanatsai over her shoulder onto the ground. This time, her adversary was given no opportunity to defend herself, as she lay sprawled on her back. Pouncing on the woman's torso, pinning her to the ground, Kayden rained down a succession of savage blows to the head.\n\nIn seconds, the bloodied and bruised Sanatsai was completely subdued. She lay beneath Kayden, unmoving, while her illumination orb-that had been casting light upon the pair during the confrontation-slowly dissipated from existence as she lost consciousness. Kayden invoked one of her own to chase away the resulting darkness, sending it floating up above her head. She returned her attention to the job at hand, placing the fingers of both hands on either side of the unconscious woman's head, then closed her eyes in concentration." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Move the narrative forward in collaboration with the writer.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, coming of age\nAuthor: Ian Gregoire\nTitle: The Exercise of Vital Powers\nChapter: 12" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Trial and error?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fay's incredulity was unmistakeable. \"Are you telling me you spent weeks walking through walls on campus without formal training or supervision? Do you have any idea how foolish you were being? You could have killed yourself.\"\n\n\"I'm not an idiot!\" Kayden retorted. \"Until last night I had never attempted to pass through a wall. When I first began testing my invoking of Naymutandushay, I only did small, simple things-like pass my fingers through sheets, then my whole hand. It was only after I felt confident enough about my mastery of this ability did I risk passing my whole body through something, and when I did so it was just abed sheet I hung up in a doorway. Once I had accomplished the feat numerous times without a hitch, I was satisfied I didn't need to bother experimenting with objects more substantial than abed sheet.\"\n\nFay sighed. \"At the risk of my words falling on deaf ears...\" There was more than a hint of exasperation in her voice. \"... the ten-year training regimen that all apprentices must undergo is structured in such away that with each level you progress, the more potent the applications of Zarantar you are trained to wield. And by more potent, I mean more powerful, hence, more dangerous-not just to those around you but also to yourselves.\"\n\nKayden didn't say anything. What could she say? Was she even expected to say anything to that? Eventually she managed a glib, \"What's done is done.\"\n\n\"Quite!\" Fay concurred. \"Now, why don't you tell me why the Sanatsai of the Order wear siphon cloaks? And how do the cloaks work?\"\n\n\"You're supposed to be a Sanatsai,\" quipped Kayden. \"Don't you already know?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Kayden, I'm giving you the chance to persuade me not to confiscate your cloak and destroy it. Are you going to take it?\"\n\nReluctantly, Kayden decided to humour the woman. \"Very well, wearing a siphon cloak enables Sanatsai to wield the most powerful applications of their Zarantar.\"\n\n\"Our Zarantar comes from within, not from what we are wearing.\" Fay's sharp response came back instantly, as if rehearsed. \"So what is the purpose of the siphon cloak?\"\n\n\"When a Sanatsai wields Zarantar it's like using any muscle of the body. The longer and greater the exertion the more worn down and fatigued he or she will become, until they must stop in order to recuperate. During this recovery period they would be vulnerable to attacks from other wielders of Zarantar. The cloak mitigates this possibility as it saves a Sanatsai from depletion.\"\n\n\"And why is the use of a siphon cloak limited to such a small subset of a Sanatsai's abilities?\"\n\n\"Most applications of Zarantar are not very taxing. The invoking of these abilities can be sustained continuously for several hours, if necessary, without significantly weakening a Sanatsai. Though, in practice there is rarely cause for prolonged use. However, invoking the more powerful applications of Zarantar, even fora brief period, will quickly drain a Sanatsai, and attempting to sustain that invocation fora prolonged time would result in death.\"\n\n\"So how do siphon cloaks work to prevent that outcome?\"\n\n\"When a Sanatsai invokes one of the high-level applications of Zarantar their siphon cloak establishes a link to the nearest ley-line, allowing them to draw strength from an external source rather than from within. This, in turn, means he or she can sustain their invocation for as long as necessary.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Fay was silent fora long moment." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden knew it couldn't be because she'd answered incorrectly. It was more likely the duplicitous bitch was trying to think of away to renege on letting her keep the cloak without losing face.\n\n\"Have you been experimenting with any other applications of Zarantar associated with the cloak?\"\n\n\"No.\" she replied. \"As I said earlier, the level ten apprentices I sought out had only mastered Naymutandushay at the time. My efforts to research the other applications of Zarantar that require Sanatsai to wear siphon cloaks were unproductive. The library back at Antaris only has a three volume set of books on the subject, but...\"\n\n\"But, what?\"\n\n\"But when I saw that those books had been authored by you...\" Kayden looked across at Fay. \"I decided not to read them.\"\n\nIf the woman was offended by the admission there was no sign of it on her face.\n\n\"No matter,\" said Fay after a brief pause. \"You are still just a level seven apprentice, Kayden. You have not yet earned the right to study and develop the higher level applications of Zarantar that those above you are learning.\"\n\n\"And yet,\" began Kayden, \"I have mastered one such ability without the instruction of any Sanatsai, as you yourself have said.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\"\n\nKayden couldn't tell from the muttered concession whether Fay was impressed or displeased by that fact.\n\n\"And how many other people do you plan to get into trouble in pursuit of your ambition?\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I was forced to discipline several apprentices today on your account, including ordering the expulsion of Vartan, and the binding of his Zarantar,\" said Fay. \" In addition to this, though I have no sympathy for him, I will have to report Master Turan to the Council. They will take a dim view of his conduct, and should their subsequent investigation uncover the wrongdoings I suspect him of, you can be sure he will be cast out from the Order." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"As for Sister Daria, though I do not have the authority to discipline members of the Sisterhood myself, if I should report her to Sister Idelle once we reach Temis Rulan, which I am more than a little inclined to do at the moment, it is likely she will be in a world of trouble, too. All because of you.\"\n\nKayden managed to stifle a laugh. \"Am I supposed to feel guilty?\" she asked. \"Because I don't! I'm not responsible for other people's actions. I didn't hold a blade to anyone's throat and force them to do anything they didn't want to do. If their choices have got them into trouble, that is on them, not me.\"\n\n\"So you're completely blameless in all this?\"\n\n\"Finally, something we both agree upon!\" exclaimed Kayden, mockingly. \"Will wonders never cease?\"\n\nThere was silence between them once more as Fay failed to respond.\n\nKayden expected the pause in conversation to be a momentary respite, and another question would be cast her way any moment, until the protracted silence extended for so long she finally realised Fay was done with questioning. She glanced at the Sanatsai just in time to catch the woman staring at her, only to quickly avert her gaze back to the path ahead.\n\nWhat was that look on her face?\n\nKayden initially took the expression for disappointment, but no, it was more than that. There was a sense of resignation about it, almost as though Fay had just lost all hope and given up. She felt more than a little unnerved by the look, but thought it best not to dwell upon it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was beginning to bother Kayden that Fay had been silent for several minutes as they continued their journey on horseback through the woodlands; she did not like being ignored― not that she would ever admit to it.\n\n\"I thought you said you had many questions you wanted to ask me,\" she said, breaking the silence.\n\n\"I did.\" Fay didn't take her eyes off the trail ahead of them.\n\n\"But not anymore?\" She received no answer from the Sanatsai.\n\n\"I take it you weren't enjoying my answers then,\" she added with amusement, moments later.\n\nOnce again Fay ignored her.\n\n\"Administrator, if you've decided to give me the silent treatment, you should know I'm more than happy to continue this journey without saying another word to you.\"\n\n\"There will be time enough for you to answer more questions later,\" said Fay. \"But not now, we will be dismounting shortly.\"\n\nKayden diverted her attention away from Fay back to the trail ahead. They were passing beyond a final line of trees as they exited the woodlands. Some distance further on she could seethe bank of a... was it a lake? It was certainly a large body of water. If it was a lake it was the largest she had ever seen. The opposite bank was not visible, though looking to the left, then the right, she could just about discern the shorelines. And if she and Fay were about to dismount, it probably meant they would be crossing the lake to reach Temis Rulan, assuming the large wooden cabins grouped along the waterfront weren't their final destination, which seemed highly unlikely in light of Fay ignoring the buildings and heading straight for the bank.\n\nMinutes later, Kayden was surprised when Fay abruptly pulled her horse up several yards short of the lake. Doing likewise, she glanced at the Sanatsai, awaiting instructions. She was puzzled when Fay stared silently back at her with a questioning look upon her face. Suddenly, Kayden could sense Zarantar, lots of it, circling all around them. Instinctively, she reached back over her shoulder for the hilt of her sword." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What's going on?\" she demanded, in a low, urgent tone as she drew her weapon.\n\nWhether or not Fay intended to answer the question there was no time for her to do so. More than a dozen hooded Sanatsai appeared out of thin air, forming a circle around the two horses and their respective riders.\n\nKayden knew that invisibility was one of those applications of Zarantar that required the wearing of a siphon cloak in order to be invoked safely fora prolonged period, but this was the first time she had witnessed Raytandushay inaction. She was impressed by the demonstration; she had a strong desire to master this ability herself.\n\nThe surrounding Sanatsai pulled back the hoods of their cloaks. One of them stepped forward towards Fay's horse. He stood well over six feet tall, had short dark hair, a neatly trimmed beard, twinkling eyes, and appeared to be in his early forties.\n\n\"Is your young friend expecting trouble, Fay?\" he asked with a chuckle.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" Fay replied with a coy smile. \"She certainly has the knack for finding it.\"\n\nKayden would have taken issue with the jibe but she was too taken aback by the coquettish tone of voice Fay had affected.\n\n\"Or maybe, just like you, Sebasio, trouble just seeks her out.\"\n\nAlthough she had noticed how Fay's demeanour and speech had become less formal since they left Antaris, Kayden had never before heard the woman speak in such an informal, familiar manner.\n\n\"Or maybe you've been filling her head with the ghost stories that keep people away from the bay,\" said Sebasio, \"and that's why she's so jumpy.\"\n\n\"If ghosts were real they'd have more cause to fear her, than vice versa.\" Fay turned to address Kayden. \"You can put your weapon away, we are among friends here.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She then dismounted with a graceful flourish, handing the reins of her horse to one of her fellow Sanatsai.\n\nKayden sheathed her sword then dismounted her ride. She watched as the two horses that had brought herself and Fay to the lake― or the bay as the Sanatsai Sebasio had referred to it― were led away in the direction of the nearby wooden buildings. The following few moments were spent silently observing as the remaining Sanatsai crowded around to warmly greet Fay like along lost sister. There was an abundance of smiles, gripping of forearms, several fierce hugs, and a kiss on both cheeks from one of the female contingent.\n\nCuriosity fell upon the apprentice accompanying Fay on her first return visit to Temis Rulan in three years. Fay casually introduced her to the other Sanatsai as Kayden Jayta, an over-achieving apprentice, originally hailing from the Kingdom of Astana, who had successfully completed the \"capture the box\" exercise the previous night. Kayden felt a deep sense of gratification when everyone seemed so impressed by her accomplishment. It also served to make the unprecedented decision to bring an apprentice to Temis Rulan seem more reasonable― which was just as well because she could see that Fay didn't wish to dwell on the matter for too long.\n\nOnce the introductions were concluded the gathering of Sanatsai began to disperse, most of them heading towards the largest of the nearby wooden buildings: a two-storey structure resembling an inn with white smoke drifting up into the air from its chimney. A few made their way towards the other buildings that looked more like barracks, where Kayden now noted several more Sanatsai appearing from indoors, while the rest took up sentry positions. She and Fay were left alone in the company of Master Sebasio." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You know,\" said Sebasio, addressing Fay, \"a great many of us are out of pocket because of you.\"\n\n\"Me?\" said Fay, surprised. \"How so?\"\n\n\"When the Council assigned you to Antaris as campus administrator, we started taking bets on how long it would be before they realised their error and recalled you.\"\n\nKayden was intrigued. The way Fay told it, she had requested to take on the administrator's post at Antaris campus. Yet Master Sebasio was indicating it was a decision made by the Council, which meant Fay had either lied about wanting the position, or she had concealed her desire to have the job from her colleagues.\n\n\"Most of us thought you'd be back within a month. Others wagered two months. Some, myself included, wagered three. There were even a handful who thought you'd begone a full year before coming back.\" Sebasio sounded exasperated when he added, \"It's been over three years, and still the Council has you playing the role of glorified headmistress... it's madness!\"\n\n\"Now, now, Seb. You're not questioning the wisdom of the Council, are you?\" teased Fay, playfully.\n\n\"No... of course not,\" he replied in a more conciliatory intone. \"But can you tell me in all seriousness that being a campus administrator is a productive use of your time? You can't possibly have enjoyed the last three years.\"\n\nFay seemed to choose her words carefully when she replied, \"It has been a challenging experience thus far, and while I realise I may not necessarily be the ideal person for the role, right now it's where I need to be.\"\n\nKayden silently wondered what exactly Fay meant by needing to beat Antaris campus. Why not one of the other campuses?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"So, how much longer do you think you'll be stuck in the post?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "pressed Sebasio.\n\n\"That is a better question than you might realise, Seb,\" replied Fay. \"I suspect I'll have a clearer idea by the end of my visit. But I certainly don't plan to leave the post while I have unfinished business.\"\n\n\"There's a boat approaching,\" interjected Kayden. \"There looks to behalf a dozen Sanatsai onboard.\"\n\n\"That will be our ride,\" Fay said matter-of-factly, staring out at the water.\n\n\"If you're in no hurry to get to the island,\" said Sebasio, \"we'll be sitting down for tea shortly. Both you and Kayden are more than welcome to join us.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Seb. But we're already running late, I'd rather not delay any further.\"\n\nFay began to amble towards the bank.\n\nSebasio kept pace at her side. \"As you wish,\" he replied.\n\nKayden trailed behind the two Sanatsai as they meandered to the bank to await the arrival of the incoming boat. So, Temis Rulan is on an island, or is an island, Kayden mused to herself. She had not considered that possibility while contemplating the location of the Order's home.\n\nBefore long, the incoming boat lurched to a halt as it landed on the bank. There were five Sanatsai aboard the rowing boat, four of them serving as oarsmen. When the fifth jumped from the vessel, landing on the muddy ground to greet the waiting trio, Kayden was surprised to find she recognised him.\n\nNando Benidas had been an apprentice at Antaris campus until he was inducted into the Order two years ago. Unfortunately, the only two occasions Kayden's path had crossed his on campus had both been negative encounters, to say the least." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The first time was in the mess hall during the breakfast period one morning. She was sitting by herself at a table when a group of level eight apprentices sat themselves down on the unoccupied spaces of the benches at her table. There wasn't enough space for Nando to have a seat at the table so he asked if she would vacate her place and find another table to sit at. Her far from polite refusal ruffled his feathers prompting him to advise her that she needed to learn to respect her elders. She in turn told him he should learn to respect his superiors. A Sanatsai sitting at a nearby table walked over to instruct her to sit elsewhere and not cause a scene. Kayden subsequently picked up her bowl of semolina and poured it allover Nando's head, to rapturous cheers, earning her yet another visit to the administrator's office.\n\nThe second incident occurred in the library, one afternoon. They were both in the same aisle searching the same bookshelf. As Kayden reached up for the book she was looking for, Nando grabbed it first. The ensuing commotion led to the defacement of the book resulting in them both being banned from the library fora month.\n\nIf Nando was the type to hold a grudge, this reunion could prove to be awkward.\n\n\"How goes it, Seb?\" said Nando gripping the forearm of the bearded Sanatsai. \"It's really good to see you again, Master Fay.\" He clasped Fay by the forearm with a bright smile.\n\n\"You're not an apprentice anymore, Kai Benidas,\" Fay replied warmly. \"There's no need to address meas Master, my rank will suffice.\"\n\n\"Of course... Danai Annis,\" he managed, sheepishly. \"Though it will take sometime to get used to not calling you Master.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden rolled her eyes. What a suck up! He'd only known the woman fora year back at Antaris.\n\nNando turned his attention to her, and Kayden saw the recognition in his eyes when his smile quickly evaporated. He glared at her then looked her up and down, taking in the sight of her uniform. Looking puzzled, he turned back to Fay.\n\n\"We were told you would be travelling with a guest,\" he said. \"But surely you're not bringing her? I thought it was forbidden for an apprentice to come to Temis Rulan.\"\n\n\"That still remains so. But Kayden is a special case.\"\n\nAs Nando glanced back at her, Kayden duly gave him a smirk. The corner of her mouth curved up just enough to say, that's right! Special Case. Now stew on that fora while.\n\n\"In that case,\" he said addressing Fay, \"why don't we get going?\"\n\nKayden joined Fay and Nando in bidding Master Sebasio farewell before getting aboard the waiting boat. Moments later they were pulling away from the muddy bank.\n\nNext stop, Temis Rulan.\n\nKayden sat on the bench in the rear of the boat, alongside Fay. In front of them, four Sanatsai were maintaining a swift, steady rhythm on the oars, while Nando sat at the front of the boat staring out over the water.\n\nWhile Fay was engaged in idle chit-chat with the oarsmen, catching upon three years worth of gossip within the Order, Kayden was doing her best to mentally block it all out. She wanted to keep her focus onlooking out for Temis Rulan, plus she was hoping to identify distinguishing landmarks that might help her pinpoint wherein the world they were. It was a thankless task thus far, as was trying to block out the conversation and banter of the Sanatsai. She couldn't fathom how Fay was seemingly so popular and well regarded by everyone. Not to mention her easygoing manner and laughter were completely at odds with the woman Kayden knew back at Antaris campus." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All of a sudden, Kayden felt her senses struck by Zarantar emanating from directly in front of the boat, though she could see nothing but clear blue, calm waters ahead. Ordinarily, it would not because for such heightened alarm but what she was feeling now was more Zarantar than she had ever felt in her life. She had never encountered anything so powerful before. Instinctively, she stood up to stare straight ahead hoping to identify the source of the disturbance.\n\n\"Apprentice! Sit back down,\" cried one of the Sanatsai, \"before we have to fish you out of the bay.\"\n\nFish her out of the bay? There was no need for exaggeration, thought Kayden. Even if she didn't already know how to swim, if she did fall overboard she would simply levitate back out of the water. She glanced imploringly down at Fay who was looking up at her.\n\n\"But there's something―\"\n\nReaching up, Fay gave Kayden's hand a gentle squeeze.\n\n\"I know what you're going to say,\" she said cutting the apprentice off.\n\nHer eyes conveyed the message that Kayden shouldn't give voice to her feelings. \"I feel it, too. Sit back down, your concern will be alleviated soon enough.\"\n\nKayden reluctantly sat back down beside Fay. She remained tense; the Zarantar she sensed was coming closer― or more to the point, they were drawing nearer to its source. Moments later, she was taken by surprise when the front of the boat began to disappear, along with Nando. It was as though the boat had come into contact with some unseen force that was now rapidly consuming it and its passengers.\n\nMore of the boat disappeared, taking the first two oarsmen also." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Before Kayden could react Fay placed a reassuring hand on her thigh. \"Don't be alarmed,\" she said gently.\n\nKayden had little choice but to trust that everything would be all right. She watched and waited for herself and Fay to disappear just as the rest of the boat and its occupants had done. Suddenly, she could seethe whole boat again, including its passengers― all present and accounted for. She released the breath she didn't realise she was holding, then marvelled at the sight before her. There was a large island looming a short distance away.\n\n\"Temis Rulan?\" she asked breathlessly.\n\n\"No,\" replied Fay. \"But Temis Rulan is located on the island.\"\n\n\"Concealing an entire island from view must require an unbelievable amount of Zarantar.\" Kayden was awed. \"How in the world did anyone manage to accomplish such a feat?\"\n\n\"The island is the ancestral home of the Sisterhood― the centre of their power. It is said that the island is situated at a nexus point, a place where over a hundred ley-lines intersect. Keeping the island permanently cloaked from view is easy enough for the Jaymidari― their Zarantar is strongest here. That's why you won't find this island on any map less than two thousand years old.\"\n\nKayden could feel her excitement and anticipation growing. When she had originally been told she was to accompany Fay to Temis Rulan, she hadn't truly believed it. She was so certain the journey was just a ruse to get her away from Antaris, a malicious plot hatched by Fay to end her life and dispose of her body. But now there was no reason to doubt where she was going. She would be arriving at Temis Rulan, soon, though the purpose of the visit remained shrouded in mystery." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The boat was moored at the docks of a small port town on the southern shore of the island. Though the waterfront couldn't be described as a hive of activity, there were several people present, many dressed in the garb of the Order. Some were helping to unload cargo from docked barges, while others transported goods to storage buildings. A small number of vessels could be seen departing and approaching the island to and from both the east and from the west, across the placid bay.\n\nKayden disembarked with Fay and the other occupants. She glanced quickly around the waterfront, but before she could wonder what their next move might be, Nando pointed Fay in the direction of a female Sanatsai standing outside a nearby storage building. At least Kayden assumed it was a woman, she couldn't be absolutely certain from a distance. The Sanatsai waved enthusiastically in their direction once Fay caught sight of her, prompting Fay to duly raise a hand in acknowledgement with a big smile on her face.\n\n\"I appreciate the ride,\" said Fay, turning to her colleagues. \"It was good to see you all again. But for now, Kayden and I must get going.\"\n\nThe gathered Sanatsai bid a fond farewell to Fay, declaring their hopes to catch up with her back at Temis Rulan during her stay. Kayden was, likewise, given a warm departure, though only from the four Sanatsai who had manned the oars of the boat. Nando pointedly ignored her.\n\n\"Follow me,\" Fay instructed Kayden, as she set off briskly towards her awaiting counterpart.\n\nKayden found herself needing to walk more quickly than before to keep pace. If she didn't know better, she would think Fay was actually excited to seethe other Sanatsai, whom she could now clearly discern was a woman. She was of medium height, slender frame, average looks with dark hair tightly braided into rows. The moment they reached the storage building Kayden looked on in astonishment as Fay and her colleague embraced each other fiercely― neither seemingly inclined to release the other. Will wonders never cease? Kayden mused to herself. Fay was genuinely pleased to seethe other woman." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Dora! It's so good to see you again,\" said Fay.\n\n\"You too, Red.\" The unrestrained glee in Dora's reply made it apparent just how happy she was to see Fay. Though why did she just call her Red? Fay's unusual hair colouring, perhaps? \"You've been gone too long; I've missed you so much.\"\n\nEventually, the two Sanatsai released each other, stepping back an arms length to smile warmly at the other.\n\n\"You are the last person I expected to greet us here,\" said Fay, cheerily. \"The last I heard, you were among the contingent the Council deployed to Yaristana to assist the kingdom in a border dispute with Randissar.\"\n\n\"I still am. But as luck would have it I arrived at the Beltranis campus first thing this morning to send a progress report back to the Council. When I was informed of your visit to Temis Rulan today, I immediately requested a couple of days leave, so here I am!\"\n\n\"I'm pleased. So how has the mission been progressing?\"\n\n\"We can discuss that later.\" Dora smiled while waving a dismissive hand. \"First, why don't you introduce me to your companion. I heard you would be bringing an apprentice with you; I wasn't sure I believed it until now.\"\n\nFinally! Kayden was beginning to feel as though her presence had been forgotten during the nausea-inducing reunion.\n\n\"Of course,\" replied Fay. \"Dora, this is Kayden Jayta, currently a level seven apprentice at Antaris campus. Kayden, meet Master Dora Bendatis.\"\n\nKayden accepted Dora's outstretched hand, gripping the Sanatsai firmly by the forearm in greeting.\n\n\"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Master Dora.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"And you, Kayden.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said Dora. She affected a serious tone of voice when she added, \"You must have made quite an impression on your master for her to breach protocol bringing you here. You must be in a great deal of trouble.\"\n\nThat was unexpected. But Kayden didn't allow the words to faze her. \"You're not the first person to suggest that today, Master,\" she replied, evenly.\n\nDora didn't immediately reply. Slowly, a smile began to curl her lips then she started laughing.\n\n\"I'm so sorry, Kayden,\" she managed to say, stifling her fit of laughter, \"I'm just pulling your leg.\"\n\n\"Don't tease her like that,\" Fay chided her friend.\n\n\"Oh, don't mind me, Kayden.\" Dora stopped laughing. \"Knowing your master like I do, the mere fact she has taken you under her wing and brought you here can only mean you are one exceptional individual.\" She glanced at Fay; admiration for her friend positively beamed from her face. \"Take it from me, you are most fortunate to have someone like her take a special interest in your ongoing development.\"\n\nWanting to roll her eyes, Kayden, instead, managed a simple, \"So I've been hearing.\"\n\n\"Perhaps we should get going,\" prompted Fay.\n\n\"Right you are,\" said Dora, cheerily. \"Tobin is waiting on the outskirts of town with our horses. Follow me.\"\n\nKayden fell into step behind the two Sanatsai as they departed, Dora placing a friendly arm around Fay's shoulder. She followed a few paces back while the pair made small talk. It was disconcerting just how different a person Fay seemed to be away from campus. Over the course of the last half hour or more, in the presence of fellow Sanatsai, Fay had transformed from a cold, standoffish, taciturn woman― who frequently aroused Kayden's ire back at Antaris― into a warm and friendly, approachable person." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In spite of herself, Kayden started feeling better disposed towards the woman. She didn't like that one bit. She tried to keep in mind her conviction that Fay was resolutely sabotaging her training to prevent her induction into the Order. The woman was without question the bane of her life. Who cared if she showed a different side of herself to the rest of the world?\n\nA short while later they reached the outskirts of the port town. Waiting to meet them was a male Sanatsai alongside two tethered chestnut geldings. Looking at him, Kayden instantly saw a forty-something version of Lazar. Not that they looked alike, it was more a case of them being of the same archetype. He was over six feet tall. His uniform accentuated the toned, athletic physique beneath, his mousey hair was neatly trimmed, and a week's worth of facial hair embellished his strong jaw. He was the archetypal rugged'pretty-boy' that so many women seemed to fantasise about. And the glint in his brown eyes gave away his awareness of the effect he had on such women.\n\n\"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes,\" he exclaimed heartily, seizing Fay in a bear hug.\n\nKayden was astonished by the way the Sanatsai was holding on just a little tighter than was necessary or appropriate. The \"mmmmm!\" that emanated from deep within him as he squeezed Fay's body against his, suggested he was excited to see Fay in more ways than one, an observation quickly confirmed by one of his hands gliding slowly down Fay's back to...\n\n\"Tobin, if your hand wanders any lower,\" said Fay, a hint of coy threat in her voice, \"you will lose it... for good.\"\n\nTobin released Fay from his enthusiastic embrace, grinning." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My humble apologies,\" he said with mock sincerity, one hand placed over his heart. \"But it has been three years. You can't blame me for being happy to see you and your shapely be―\"\n\nHe cutoff as he caught sight of Kayden standing behind the two female Sanatsai. The cheeky grin vanished instantly from his face. He slowly looked Kayden up and down, his eyes devouring her as though she were a sumptuous desert.\n\nRealising she was being mentally undressed, Kayden scowled at him. But the intensity of Tobin's gaze did not falter until Fay snapped her fingers under his nose.\n\n\"Hey!\" she barked, clearly unimpressed by the leering. \"Put your eyes back inside your head.\"\n\nGazing at Fay with innocent eyes, Tobin said, \"I was just inspecting the next generation.\" His tone was affectedly meek. He returned his attention back to Kayden. \"And who might you be, apprentice?\"\n\n\"She is Kayden Jayta,\" Fay offered. \"More than that, you do not need to know.\"\n\nTobin took a step towards Kayden, extending an arm to her in greeting. \"Allow me to introduce myself; Tobin Rinaldi.\"\n\nKayden reached for Tobin's outstretched limb. Before she could grip his forearm he took hold of her fingers then leaned forward to plant a delicate kiss upon the back of her hand.\n\n\"It's an honour to make your acquaintance, Kayden Jayta. I hope you will permit me to say that they certainly didn't make apprentices half as beautiful as yourself during my tenure as an apprentice.\" Tobin's voice was velvety charm personified. \"You must be areal heartbreaker back at Antaris.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden yanked her hand back from his grasp. \"Well, I don't know about that, Master Toby.\" He did not react to the deliberate mispronunciation of his name. \"However, I have been known to break other body parts when the need arises.\"\n\nDora, who had remained silent until now, tried and failed to suppress an outbreak of laughter at the expense of her colleague.\n\nTobin was left speechless by the quip. He quickly recovered his wit, smiling as he turned to address Fay. \"I see your three years at Antaris has been spent moulding the apprentices in your image.\"\n\n\"I assure you, Kayden requires no guidance from me when it comes to putting a lecherous Sanatsai in his place.\" A sardonic smile curled Fay's lips. \"You'd probably do well to remember that. Now, I suggest we head out before I'm tempted to break something.\"\n\n\"Very well.\" Tobin untethered one of the horses, handing the reins over to Dora. \"Presumably, you and Fay will want to ride together, so to speak.\" He began to untether the second horse. \"So, I guess Kayden will have the pleasure of riding with me.\" He raised his eyebrows suggestively at the apprentice.\n\n\"I don't think so!\" Fay snatched the reins of the second horse away from Tobin. \"I'd prefer to reach Temis Rulan without incident, if you don't mind, so Kayden will ride with me.\"\n\n\"Why are we not getting horses of our own to ride?\" Kayden demanded to know, indignant.\n\n\"Oh my, she's not just a pretty face, is she?\" Tobin uttered to Fay, with a cheeky smile. \"Likes to ride too, it seems.\" He fixed his lustful gaze on Kayden. \"Let me guess,\" he continued. \"It's the sensation you get having something big and powerful between your legs that does it, am I right?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Both Dora and Fay simultaneously rewarded Tobin with a smack to the back of the head.\n\n\"Tobin, if one more inappropriate word comes out of your mouth...\" Fay did not finish her stern warning. Tobin would know he had crossed a line she wasn't prepared to overlook just from her glowering countenance.\n\n\"All right! I was just joking.\"\n\nMoments later Tobin was mounting his ride, then pulling Dora up to sit behind him. Likewise, Fay mounted the other horse, giving Kayden a helping hand up, to sit behind her. Without further ado the grey and black clad quartet rode away from the port at a gentle canter.\n\nKayden's arms were wrapped tightly around Fay's waist, her head resting gently against the Sanatsai's back. In the hour or so since riding out of the port, she had contented herself with wistfully breathing in the scent of Fay's burgundy hair. The combination of jasmine and sandalwood brought to mind her beloved mother, and it had a soothing, calming effect. The warm summer air, coupled with the sights and sounds of the unspoilt countryside all around them, with its rolling fields of dandelions and daisies, lavender covered hills, and fleet rabbits scampering through the long grass only served to relax her further.\n\nThe journey thus far had seen them pass through two farming villages, both inhabited by communities comprised of Sanatsai and Jaymidari. The observation provoked anew appreciation for the Order in Kayden. She had always viewed it as a shadowy organisation of powerful warriors, but there was obviously more to it than that.\n\nThe horses were now moving at a languid trot across open fields rather than a brisk canter. Since passing through the second village, the conversation between the Sanatsai trio had thankfully moved away from Tobin's tiresome repartee, and his testing of Fay's patience with his unabated sexual innuendos. At Fay's request, Dora was giving a brief rundown of the mission in Yaristana to bring an end to the border dispute between the kingdom and its neighbour, Randissar; Kayden was listening with interest." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The so-called border dispute was in fact a full-scale insurrection in the restive province of Mattis." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "About six weeks previously along-gestating secessionist movement in Mattis had taken up arms to breakaway from the kingdom with the aim of merging with Randissar. As more than two thirds of the province's population was of Randissari descent the rebellion had considerable internal support, not to mention the rebels were unofficially receiving help from within Randissar, in the shape of weapons and volunteers smuggled across the border.\n\nDespite assurances from the Randissari ambassador that his government were not in anyway providing support to the rebels, King Santando and his advisers held firm to their conviction that the rebellion wasn't possible without outside interference, an assertion that had been seemingly confirmed two weeks ago when Zarantar-wielding fighters first began to appear among the ranks of the separatists. At this point the Yaristanese king had no option but to formally request assistance from the Order to quell the insurrection.\n\nA five-hundred strong cadre of Sanatsai was deployed in Yaristana by the Council in response to the request. For over a week, what was ostensibly intended to be a brief intervention to restore peace in Mattis province was nothing of the sort. The Sanatsai were engaged in fierce fighting, side-by-side with Yaristanese soldiers against the rebels.\n\n\"Three days ago we helped to push the separatists out of the provincial capital, after recapturing and securing all the major towns in the eastern half of the province,\" proclaimed Dora. \" We were subsequently able to negotiate a truce with the rebel leaders. For the time being they still hold the western areas of Mattis where support for the rebellion is strongest.\n\n\"Our Yaristanese friends did not welcome the ceasefire, to say the least. But the truce is holding... for now.\"\n\n\"I can't say that I blame them,\" said Tobin. \"Why didn't we continue our momentum and push west towards the border? As long as their supply lines to Randissar remain intact the rebels have no reason to lay down their arms.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Because our orders were to bring an end to the fighting, which we've done. Besides, we don't currently have the manpower in Mattis to fight an all-out war if Randissar should enter the fray on the side of the separatists.\" Dora sighed in frustration. \"We're having a difficult enough time as it is preventing the Yaristanese soldiers from exacting retribution against their fellow subjects of Randissari descent, even those not involved with the rebels.\"\n\n\"Is that likely to happen?\" Fay inquired. \"Randissar entering the conflict, I mean.\"\n\n\"Despite the lull infighting, Danai Rentis is concerned that intervention by the Order all but guarantees an escalation in the conflict.\"\n\n\"Pouring oil onto fires never seems to put them out,\" mused Fay. \"But knowing Larko Rentis, as I do, his mind does tend to favour the worst possible scenario.\"\n\n\"While I was at Beltranis campus this morning, updating the Council on our progress, he had me request that the size of our contingent in Mattis be increased tenfold, to five thousand. He believes it's only a matter of time before an incursion from Randissar to annex the province.\"\n\n\"Have we ascertained whether or not the government of Randissar really is behind the supply of weapons and men to the rebels? Knowing that will make it easier to predict how they may react to our involvement.\"\n\n\"Covert operations inside Randissar have confirmed that support for the rebellion is being orchestrated by three high-ranking military officers,\" Dora said. \"However, there's no evidence to suggest the ruling body is aware of this, let alone actually sanctioned it.\"\n\n\"It's possible that if presented with proof of the unauthorised actions of these three officers, the government could put an end to it.\" Fay didn't sound particularly hopeful. \"It would go someway to taking the wind out of the sails of the rebels.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Or...\" interrupted Tobin. \"They've been in on it from the word go, and having their secret exposed would simply force them into openly pursuing the annexation of Mattis province. If that happens, we'll have no choice but to go to war on the side of Yaristana.\"\n\n\"The Order won't be drawn into open warfare so easily,\" warned Fay. \"The Council will pursue any and every avenue available to avoid that.\"\n\nKayden, who had been listening attentively to the discussion until now, decided it was time to speak her mind.\n\n\"If the Order truly wants to end the conflict without going to war, the Council should be demanding that the king and queen of Yaristana rectify the poor treatment of their subjects who are of Randissari descent.\"\n\nThe conversation came to an abrupt halt. Both Dora and Tobin peered across towards the other horse, looking quizzically at the apprentice.\n\n\"Why are you staring at me like I just said something crazy?\" Kayden challenged the two Sanatsai. \"It is well known that those of Randissari heritage are treated worse than dirt throughout Yaristana. As far as I'm concerned, the separatists are more than justified in taking up arms against their oppressors. The interests of their people would be better served by breaking away from the kingdom, and for Mattis to be absorbed into Randissar.\"\n\nTobin began to laugh heartily. \"Oh, Fay,\" he managed to say between fits of laughter. \"Only you would have the testicular fortitude to bring a separatist sympathiser to Temis Rulan.\"\n\n\"Be quiet, Tobin,\" said Fay, irritably. \"And stop laughing.\" He promptly obeyed her command. \"Kayden, there is undoubtedly truth in your assertion that the poor treatment of the Randissari population has been a contributing factor in the current crisis. That being said, the Order cannot tell the rulers of Yaristana how to govern their kingdom.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Why not?\"\n\nDora answered on Fay's behalf. \"The Order was founded to prevent the misuse of Zarantar in the Nine Kingdoms. We do not interfere in the internal politics of any of the kingdoms.\"\n\n\"Well, maybe it is time you started.\" There was an unmistakable edge to Kayden's voice.\n\n\"You seem to betaking this personally, Kayden,\" observed Fay.\n\n\"I have no stake in what's happening in Mattis province, if that's what you're wondering,\" she replied. \" But I know what it's like to belong to a visible minority living in the Nine Kingdoms. Assumptions are made about us based on fanciful tales that people carelessly spread. The wrongful actions of a single individual are used as a pretext for smearing the rest of us with the same brush, and if the fortunes of the land take a turn for the worse, we become convenient scapegoats for people to point the finger of blame.\n\n\"The Order should betaking advantage of the current truce to insist on the rulers of Yaristana taking steps to address the terrible mistreatment of their Randissari subjects. Why should they be treated less favourably than everyone else simply because of what they look like? It's not as though they can conceal their pallid complexions, their freckles, or their ginger hair.\n\n\"It may not be enough, initially, to quell separatist sympathies entirely. But acknowledgement that there is a problem is a necessary first step.\"\n\n\"Your suggestion has merit, Kayden,\" conceded Fay. \"The Council, too, would seethe wisdom in advising King Santando to act accordingly. However, as I already stated, the Order cannot compel the rulers of the Nine Kingdoms to adopt policies they do not wish to adopt.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Kayden was becoming exasperated." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is the point of having all this power if you can't force people to do what you want?\"\n\nFrom the corner of her eye, Kayden noticed that neither Dora nor Tobin reacted well to her words; they were both directing concerned glances at Fay sitting in front of her. Fay, for her part, seemingly feeling the weight of her companions' gazes upon her, glanced wordlessly at them fora moment before returning her attention straight ahead; the two horses were starting to ascend a steep hill.\n\n\"Is that what you would do, Kayden?\" queried Fay. \"Use your power to impose your will on others.\"\n\n\"If that's what it takes.\"\n\nThe reply was decidedly blasé.\n\nHer words appeared to mark the end of the discussion. Fay offered no response to her answer, though glancing at the other two Sanatsai it certainly seemed to Kayden as though Dora really wanted to take issue with it. Instead, the woman directed her address to her friend and counterpart.\n\n\"Red? If I may ask―\"\n\n\"No, you may not,\" said Fay abruptly, cutting Dora off in mid-sentence. \"This conversation is over.\"\n\nThe affable woman who had emerged during the journey to Temis Rulan was gone; the stoic administrator of Antaris campus had returned. \"Any questions can wait until we reach Temis Rulan.\"\n\n\"How much further to go?\" Kayden asked no one in particular.\n\n\"The other side of this hill,\" said Fay.\n\nMinutes later the two horses reached the top of the hill, ready to begin the descent down the gently sloping, grassy incline.\n\n\"Oh, my...\" gasped the apprentice.\n\nIn her mind, Kayden had always envisioned Temis Rulan as a larger-scale version of the Antaris campus that had been her home for the past five years. The reality that now lay before her dwarfed those preconceived notions. She marvelled at the sight of the sprawling cityscape in the distance, at the centre of which she could clearly seethe complex of buildings that could only be the headquarters of the Order, surrounded by a circular perimeter wall. From her vantage point it was difficult to accurately gauge the size of the headquarters but she estimated that it must cover five times the area of the Antaris campus." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Radiating outwards from the perimeter wall, myriad buildings and habitations stretched out in every direction. Kayden guessed that it would take at least two hours to walk from one end of the city to the other.\n\n\"I had no idea Temis Rulan was a city in it's own right,\" she exclaimed.\n\n\"I'm not sure that it qualifies as such, at the moment,\" Fay replied in her customary matter-of-fact fashion, \"but it continues to grow overtime. When it was first established, Temis Rulan was contained entirely within the perimeter wall you can see at the centre. Overtime, as more Sanatsai were inducted into the Order, and people began having families, it became necessary to expand beyond the wall in order to accommodate the increasing population.\"\n\nGiven how much it had expanded, Kayden could only imagine the size of population, currently.\n\n\"Just how many people live here?\" she wondered aloud.\n\n\"Well, there are over a hundred thousand people on the island, most of whom live herein Temis Rulan.\"\n\n\"A hundred thousand!\" Kayden was flabbergasted. \"Surely they can't all be members of the Order?\" She found it inconceivable that there could be so many Sanatsai in the world, let alone just on the island.\n\n\"No,\" acknowledged Fay. \"At the last count, the number of Sanatsai in our ranks was just north of the thirty thousand mark. At any given time, you'll find at least three quarters of us living here. The rest of the population is made up of Jaymidari and the offspring of those who have started families here.\"\n\nKayden was astonished to discover the number of Sanatsai in the Order exceeded thirty thousand; that was considerably larger than any single army of the Nine Kingdoms. She could not say for certain, but she suspected their combined armies did not total thirty thousand men. \"Are you telling me that the Order has more manpower at its disposal than the Nine Kingdoms has soldiers?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fay chuckled, slightly, at that. \"Only if you underestimate the number of men-at-arms the kingdoms can call upon,\" she said. \"But you are right to point out that the Order is a sizeable force; one to be reckoned with.\"\n\nThe two horses began the steady descent downhill towards Temis Rulan. What awaited them once they got there, Kayden could only guess at." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As the group made their approach to the southern gate, Kayden was still awestruck by the sheer numbers of Sanatsai she had observed while traversing the streets of Temis Rulan. She never imagined ever seeing so many in one location, and someday soon, she would be rubbing shoulders with them-as one of their number-calling the city her home, too.\n\nThe journey through the city also highlighted just how well known a figure Fay Annis was. Numerous men and women had given warm salutations as they witnessed her passing by. She wasn't just a highly regarded Sanatsai of the Order; evidently, she was also a genuinely much-loved person.\n\nThey were admitted through the gate without hindrance, allowing Kayden her first real look at the grounds of the Order. It was like a grand rural estate-usually the preserve of the nobility of the Nine Kingdoms. She could see well manicured lawns crisscrossed by grey brick pathways leading to and from several imposing buildings. The most impressive structure lay at the heart of the complex several hundred yards in the distance. She concluded that the building must be where the Council was to be found. As a young child back in Astana she had seen the royal palace in the capital, Shali, on more than one occasion, and while the building she could see ahead of her wasn't nearly as ostentatious, it was certainly similar in scale. It was five storeys of beautifully constructed, palatial manor house built from grey masonry.\n\nDora then Tobin dismounted their horse in quick succession.\n\nFay peered back over her shoulder at Kayden. \"You can dismount now,\" she said.\n\nDoing as instructed, Kayden dismounted the horse, quickly followed by Fay herself who handed the reins to one of the Sanatsai sentries on duty at the gate. She watched as both horses were led away in the direction of the stables situated to the east of the grounds." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The group proceeded a short distance on foot along the grey brick path, coming to a halt when met by a dozen Sanatsai accompanying an elderly Jaymidari standing at the forefront of the welcoming party.\n\n\"Welcome back,\" the Sister greeted Fay with affection.\n\nShe was a short, old woman with long, grey-white hair, a warm smile upon her wrinkled face, and a fetching amethyst pendant hanging from the chain around her neck. Kayden guessed her to be in her eighties, possibly even older.\n\n\"Thank you, it feels good to be back,\" said Fay, embracing the Jaymidari.\n\nDora said, \"Tobin and I will be stopping in at the communal hall fora while. I presume you'll betaking care of whatever business you have here, right away.\" Fay nodded in the affirmative. \"In that case, if you are free this evening maybe you can join us in the mess hall for dinner; we can catch up some more.\"\n\n\"I would like that.\"\n\nFay gripped Dora by the forearm, then bid both her and Tobin farewell before they departed, making their way to the communal hall.\n\nThe Jaymidari turned to address her Sanatsai escort.\n\n\"You may leave us,\" she told them.\n\nThey dispersed in compliance, leaving her alone with Fay and Kayden. She turned around to face the direction she had arrived from then held out her left arm, silently gesturing for Fay to take hold of it. Without hesitation Fay looped her own arm through the offered limb.\n\nTo Kayden's surprise the woman indicated that she should take hold of her right arm, now held out to her. She flashed a quick glance towards Fay, looking for guidance.\n\n\"Come, child,\" said the Sister, with no hint of condescension, \"let us be on our way.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden looped her arm through the woman's waiting arm then the three of them walked leisurely along the grey brick path leading to the main building at the centre of the sprawling complex. She supposed they must look like an odd spectacle to any onlookers, given the disparity in height of the trio. Both she and Fay had eight or nine inches on the short Jaymidari confidently guiding them onwards.\n\nThe Sister glanced up at Kayden. \"Forgive me, my dear,\" she said, \"I'm afraid your master has neglected to give your name.\" There was a note of mild amusement in her voice.\n\n\"Idelle, this is Kayden Jayta,\" Fay offered succinctly.\n\nKayden almost stumbled at the name. She was aware that Idelle was the name of the head of the Sisterhood, and if this Jaymidari was the same person, she was also a serving member of the Council, the ruling body of the Order.\n\n\"And she is the reason for your visit, yes?\"\n\n\"She is.\"\n\n\"But you still don't wish to tell myself or the rest of the Council why.\"\n\nThat's strange, thought Kayden. She had been led to believe that Fay had important business to discuss with the Council.\n\n\"For the moment the problem does not require the immediate attention of the Council,\" replied Fay, guardedly, \"and I would prefer not to burden you with it before absolutely necessary.\"\n\nKayden realised that if Fay was describing her as \"the problem\", then the notion that she had been brought to Temis Rulan to receive some kind of special commendation had just flown right out of the window.\n\n\"I take it you plan to burden Ari with your problem?\" Idelle's question was obviously leading. \"And that's why you requested to see him?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Again, Kayden almost stumbled, this time at the mention of yet another familiar name. Ari Shinadu was the Sanatsai who founded the Order in the aftermath of the Great War seven decades ago. He, too, was a serving member of the Council. Had Fay brought her hereto meet Master Ari?\n\n\"Yes,\" Fay conceded. \"He has prior experience that I hope will negate the need to formally bring the matter to the Council.\"\n\n\"As you wish.\" There was no disappointment or annoyance in Idelle's voice. \"I know he'll be thrilled to see you. Your absence these past three years has been greatly felt by many, myself included.\"\n\nThey walked in silence fora brief spell until Idelle, once again, glanced to her right to address the apprentice. \"So, Kayden,\" she began warmly, \"how has your training been progressing?\"\n\nKayden briefly contemplated giving a humble answer, but false humility wasn't in her make-up.\n\n\"The pace of my progress is barely satisfactory, Sister. Despite everything I have learned thus far, I do not feel as though I am being adequately challenged. As of this moment I'm already a level seven apprentice, though only into the fifth year of my apprenticeship, yet I feel like I'm being held back unnecessarily; a situation I believe isn't helped by my having no peer among my fellow apprentices.\"\n\nKayden noted how Idelle cast a quick glance at Fay-presumably none to impressed by the immodest response-before returning her gaze back, to reply.\n\n\"Well, you've certainly made quite an impression on your master, she wouldn't have brought you here otherwise. I don't imagine another apprentice will ever be brought to Temis Rulan-certainly not during my lifetime.\"\n\n\"I imagine not.\" It was the only thing Kayden could think to say." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Smiling up at the apprentice, Idelle's eyes were searching. \"I hope you will not object to my saying so, Kayden,\" she said, \"but if you should prove to be as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside, you will be a great asset once you are inducted into the Order.\"\n\nKayden flushed in spite of herself. She was accustomed to being told she was beautiful-usually by people who wanted something in return for such compliments. But she knew Idelle neither wanted or expected anything from her in return. In fact, Kayden had the odd sense that the Sister had just imparted some sage advice.\n\nShe hesitated before responding.\n\n\"I appreciate your kind words, Sister,\" she said, in an uncharacteristic, self-effacing manner. \"I will do all I canto make them true.\"\n\nFor the next few minutes Kayden walked silently, taking in the sights of the grounds while listening to Fay and Idelle making small talk about Fay's duties as the administrator of Antaris campus.\n\n\"As it happens,\" Fay was saying, \"I have recently become aware that I have a problem with one of the Sisters serving under meat Antaris.\" Kayden knew she was referring to Sister Daria. \"I've not yet had the opportunity to speak with the Sister, to hear her side of the story, so I won't go into details now. However, once I return to Antaris and discuss the matter with her, it is likely I will have to report it to you so that you may take whatever action you deem appropriate.\"\n\nIdelle signalled her assent with a muted \"hmm\" before bringing the two younger women, on either arm, to a halt outside the main building of the complex that she informed Kayden was Kassani House-named after the river where the Order was founded. They were a few paces short of the stone steps leading up to the main entrance, its large oak doors wide open. Kayden could see a smattering of Sanatsai and Jaymidari congregated on the steps as well as a few more loitering near the doors at the top. At ground level there were a number of wooden benches lined up along the wall of the building. She took particular interest in a male Sanatsai sitting beside a young Sister on one of the benches to the right. He was whispering something in her ear, she was blushing with a demure smile on her face." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I do have a more serious matter that I wish to bring to the attention of the Council,\" said Fay, drawing Kayden's focus away from the flirting couple nearby. \"It concerns deeply troubling allegations of misconduct made against a fellow Sanatsai. Given the nature of the allegations, the sooner the Council can investigate the veracity of the accusations the better.\" She was referring to the revelations about Master Turan, Kayden realised. \"I'd like to get Kayden settled in first, if that's all right, but I shall seek you out later this evening to present you with full details of the alleged offences.\"\n\n\"As you wish,\" replied Idelle, simultaneously releasing her hold on both Fay and Kayden. \"Will you be wanting to see Ari immediately?\" She raised a hand to signal the nearest Sanatsai, gesturing for him to approach. \"I can have a message sent to him right away.\"\n\n\"If you could just let him know I've arrived, and that I would be grateful fora few minutes of his time whenever he is ready, that will be fine.\"\n\nThe Sanatsai signalled over by Idelle stopped in front of the trio of women. \"How may I be of service, Sister?\"\n\n\"Would you kindly convey a message to Rendai Shinadu? I believe he's in the orchards.\" The Sanatsai nodded in the affirmative. \"Please inform him that Danai Annis has arrived,\" Idelle continued, \"and she wishes to see him at his earliest convenience.\" Addressing Fay, she added, \"Would you like Ari's return message sent to your quarters? I assume you'll want to go there now.\"\n\nKayden's stomach growled audibly, intruding on the conversation. She looked down, self-consciously, at her feet as Fays eye's turned to her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No,\" Fay said in reply to Idelle, \"I'm going to take Kayden to the mess hall.\" To the Sanatsai messenger she added, \"You may bring Ari's response tome there.\"\n\n\"As you wish, Danai.\"\n\nHe nodded in acknowledgement then marched purposefully away, following the path leading around the west wing of Kassani House, en route to the orchards and gardens located in the northwest of the grounds.\n\n\"Now that you're here, please don't let me keep you both from a meal,\" said Idelle cheerily. \"I shall return to the Council's chamber.\" Addressing Fay, she added, \"If you should require anything from us during your stay, please don't hesitate to ask.\"\n\nShe shifted her focus to Kayden, affecting a more sober tone as she took hold of the apprentice by both hands. \"Heed well the lesson you will learn here, Kayden. Do so, and your lovely face will grace Temis Rulan for many years to come.\" She released her grip on Kayden's hands then took her leave of master and apprentice.\n\nKayden watched the elderly Jaymidari float up the stone steps towards the entrance of the building. Her stomach growled noticeably once again.\n\n\"Can I assume,\" began Fay, \"that not only did you miss lunch, but you also skipped breakfast too?\"\n\n\"That would be a safe assumption.\"\n\n\"Follow me.\"\n\nFalling into step alongside the Sanatsai, Kayden followed Fay as she led them away from the front of Kassani House. The mess hall catering to members of the Order was situated about a hundred yards east of the building, in easy walking distance. They made their way around the corner and Kayden was treated to her first glimpse of the mess hall. She was amazed at the size of it. Not only was it considerably larger than the one back at Antaris campus in terms of the area it covered, it was also three storeys tall." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"That is the mess hall?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "she exclaimed in wonder. \"It's huge!\" She noted there were four separate entrances in total-that she could see.\n\n\"About half a century ago the dining hall inside Kassani House was no longer able to accommodate the number of people present during mealtimes. It became necessary to build a dedicated mess hall big enough to cater for the ever-increasing population. These days the dining hall is used exclusively by the members of the Council, their attendants, and other senior figures within the Order.\"\n\nThey entered the mess hall together via the nearest entrance. Kayden was quietly impressed by the understated beauty of the interior. She imagined it to be akin to the dining halls of the nobility throughout the Nine Kingdoms. Silently she followed Fay's lead down one aisle, observing as the woman nodded the occasional greeting to the small number of Sanatsai and Jaymidari they passed.\n\n\"The evening meal is still a couple of hours away from being dished up,\" Fay informed Kayden. \"But I will ask the kitchen to rustle up alight meal for us.\" She came to a halt atone of the tables nearest the serving counter outside the kitchen. She instructed Kayden to take a seat, before departing towards the counter.\n\nThe two middle-aged women behind the counter wore plain clothing beneath their aprons. Kayden was unable to determine if they were Sanatsai or Jaymidari, though it was possible they were neither. She was now aware that not everyone living on the island was a wielder of Zarantar. Apart of her was fleetingly disappointed when she noticed how the two women's faces lit up radiantly as Fay came to speak with them. Even the kitchen staff are thrilled to see her? The observation was enough to cause Kayden to grudgingly question if she had badly misjudged the administrator. Surely a woman as beloved as Fay apparently was couldn't be the horrid bitch she deemed her to be." }, { "from": "human", "value": "A short while later Fay returned to the table carrying a tray laden with a steaming pot of tea, ajar of honey, a bowl of cane sugar, and two porcelain cups." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She set it down upon the table then sat opposite Kayden.\n\n\"Rina will bring some food out to us shortly.\" She began to pour some tea into one of the cups. \"Help yourself to some tea in the meantime.\"\n\nKayden inhaled the aroma wafting from the herbal infusion. \"Camomile and spiced apple,\" she exclaimed.\n\n\"There's nothing wrong with your sense of smell.\" There was a joviality in Fay's quip that Kayden was unaccustomed to hearing.\n\n\"It's my favourite blend.\" Kayden took the teapot from Fay and poured herself some tea into the second cup.\n\nFay fixed a penetrating gaze upon the apprentice. \"It's my favourite, too.\" She proceeded to add a teaspoon of cane sugar followed by two teaspoons of honey. Kayden stared intently back at her while she stirred her hot beverage. \"What is it?\"\n\nThe cadence of Kayden's spoken words indicated surprise. \"That's how I have mine, too.\"\n\nIt had never occurred to Kayden that she and Fay might have anything in common. She'd certainly never contemplated the possibility of sharing similar tastes. But she was beginning to suspect that maybe she and the administrator were more alike than she realised. She also began to speculate that Fay was already aware of such likenesses-that perhaps she reminded Fay of herself in someway. And maybe that was ultimately why the woman seemed to take an instant dislike to her.\n\nShe refrained from voicing those thoughts as she finished stirring her tea. She raised the cup to her lips then took a sip. Mmmmmm! Liquid paradise in a cup.\n\nOne of the two women manning the serving counter, whom Fay had spoken with earlier, arrived at the table a short while later carrying a tray of food. Kayden guessed she must be Rina. The matronly woman promptly laid a plate offish fritters with aside serving of creamy potato salad in front of Fay, then did the same for Kayden." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It's not much,\" said Rina, modestly, \"but it should tide you over until the evening meal is served.\"\n\n\"That's fine, Rina,\" replied Fay. \"Thank you.\"\n\n\"If you'd like I can bring you both a slice of apple and pear pie, with cream, in a little while.\"\n\n\"Yes please,\" piped up Kayden through a mouthful offish fritter.\n\n\"That would be wonderful, Rina,\" said Fay with a smile.\n\nWith that, Rina trotted off back towards the kitchen, and Fay slowly began to eat her meal in silence while Kayden gobbled her own, hungrily.\n\nEventually, Kayden looked up from her plate to question the Sanatsai.\n\n\"Sister Idelle mentioned that I would be learning some kind of lesson while I'm here.\" She took another sip of tea from her cup. \"What kind of lesson are we talking about?\"\n\n\"That is a very good question.\" Fay looked thoughtful fora moment. \"I suspect you will know the answer before I do.\"\n\nKayden was puzzled by Fay's admission that she didn't know. Surely the woman had to know why she had brought an apprentice to Temis Rulan?\n\n\"Well, what did she mean when she asked if I was the reason for your visit?\" Kayden pressed. \"Did you bring me hereto have someone else make the decision to expel me and bind my Zarantar for you?\"\n\nFay sipped some more tea then set down her cup. \"Listen tome carefully, Kayden.\" Her tone was gravely serious, as was the look on her face. \"What the future may hold for you is entirely out of my hands. I've done all I can for you; your fate rests in your own hands now.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Move the story forward in your role as narrative aide.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, coming of age\nAuthor: Ian Gregoire\nTitle: The Exercise of Vital Powers\nChapter: 19" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He almost jumped out of his skin when a hand gripped him by the shoulder.\n\n\"Come along,\" said Fay at his side. \"A couple of horses have been made available to us at the stable, we'll head into town right away.\"\n\nKenit followed Fay's lead to the nearby stable where two chestnut mares waited, tethered outside-bridled, saddled and ready to ride. He looked on bemused as she untethered one of the horses then began speaking to it with a motherly voice.\n\n\"Oh my, aren't you a pretty girl,\" she said, stroking it's nose. \"Yes you are. Yes you are.\"\n\nWhy did women do that? Kenit wondered. It's a horse, not a baby. Of course, he didn't daresay it out loud. He untethered the other mare then promptly climbed up into the saddle and waited for Fay to do the same. Once she did so, then urged her mount into a trot, Kenit followed her lead once more. Together the pair departed the grounds of the seminary moments later, setting off at a canter in a northwesterly direction.\n\nA quarter of an hour later they had slowed to a trot, with the town of Relona looming a short distance ahead. In the time since leaving the seminary Fay hadn't said so much as two words to Kenit, though, by the same token, he hadn't spoken to her, either. He simply didn't have the confidence to strike up a conversation. During his decade-long apprenticeship he had heard and read so many fantastical accounts of the many exploits of Fay Annis, she had become a larger than life figure in his mind. Yet here he was riding alongside her, areal life, flesh and blood woman-a stunningly beautiful one at that-and the awkwardness he was experiencing, courtesy of all the lustful thoughts he was having, ensured that he kept his mouth shut. He could do nothing but stare at her. She was perfection personified. He started to wonder what she looked like out of her uniform, so his mind duly formed images of intimate scenarios that allowed him to find out." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Without turning her head to look sideways at him, Fay casually asked, \"Kai Darbandian, is there a problem with my uniform I should be aware of?\"\n\n\"What!\" Kenit gasped as he was snapped out of his thoughts. \"Uh, no... no of course not, Danai Annis.\"\n\n\"Then why are you staring at me?\"\n\nFeeling flustered, Kenit retorted, \"I don't know what you mean.\"\n\n\"You have been staring at me since we left the seminary,\" Fay reiterated. \"Is there a problem?\"\n\nKenit realised Fay was unlikely to drop the matter, which perturbed him. He would have to tell her something.\n\n\"I... I... I was...\" he stammered. \"I was just wondering...\"\n\n\"Yes?\" Fay prompted.\n\n\"How old, exactly, are you?\"\n\nFay finally tore her eyes away from the town ahead, glancing sideways to fix her gaze on him. Oh no! Kenit assumed from the look on her face he must have offended her.\n\n\"Kai Darbandian,\" began Fay, \"did your mother not teach you never to ask a woman her age?\"\n\nHe had no idea what to say. It was probably best to keep quiet. Anything he said was likely to make things worse. But much to his relief Fay looked away from him, returning her gaze to the way ahead.\n\n\"To answer your question,\" Fay continued, moments later. \"I am far too old for you. Now, perhaps you could keep your mind on the task at hand?\"\n\n\"Yes, Danai!\"\n\nThey continued to ride in silence for the remainder of the journey to Relona-Kenit taking extra care to ensure his eyes didn't wander to his riding companion once again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It wasn't long before they arrived at the outskirts of the town, and Fay informed Kenit there was an inn nearby where they could have their horses stabled, so that was where they headed first. Upon dismounting, their horses were attended to by a couple of stablemen while they set off, on foot, into town as late afternoon gave way to early evening.\n\nWalking through the streets of Relona, Kenit noted with keen interest the awed expressions upon the faces of the town's inhabitants. He initially assumed Fay was the cause of their reverence, but that would only make sense if they knew who she was. It was more likely the case that he, too, was inspiring the reaction of the townsfolk he and Fay passed by. That realisation made him feel rather proud.\n\n\"Danai Annis?\" he said, to gain Fay's attention. \"This may seem like a silly question but it just occurred tome. How are Sanatsai-to-be located after their Zarantar manifests? As I understand it, Relona has a population of almost fourteen thousand people, we could search all evening for the child we're after and still not find them.\"\n\n\"Do you not recall what happened to you on the day your Zarantar manifested?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he replied. \" I was escorted home from school by the City Guard after I somehow caused a chair to fly through a window. For the rest of the day, and the following morning, my parents said I wasn't allowed to leave the house because I'd been born imbued with Zarantar, and the Order would be arriving soon to see me. Sure enough a Sanatsai and Jaymidari came to our home to give me the choice of apprenticeship or the binding of my Zarantar.\n\n\"That, however, doesn't tell me how they knew how and whereto find meas quickly as they did, especially as I was resident in Fantabelis at the time; a city of over a hundred thousand people.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The established protocol throughout the Nine Kingdoms, in the event of the manifestation of an adolescent's Zarantar, is for it to be reported to the local authorities, immediately, and the child in question confined to home. The personnel subsequently sent to find the child-in this particular instance, you and I-need only report to a Guard station and request to betaken to the family home, which is what we are doing now.\"\n\n\"I see.\"\n\nContinuing to follow Fay's lead through busy streets, Kenit noted how they were still attracting reverent glances from passers-by. He spotted a group of young boys congregated on a corner-one of their number excitedly pointing a finger in his and Fay's direction. He waved at the kids, prompting them to dash away with excited looks on their faces. His ego began to inflate at the prospect of the boys rushing off to tell their family, friends, and anyone else who would listen, that they had just seen a Sanatsai who waved at them. Moments later he caught sight of a pretty young woman wearing a dark blue dress standing in the doorway of a bakery, smiling demurely at him as he and Fay walked by. If he weren't already so enamoured of Fay he would have found his admirer rather beautiful. He might even have halted briefly to speak with her. As it was, all he could do was simply smile back.\n\n\"Master Sanatsai!\" screamed a female voice. \"Master Sanatsai!\"\n\nKenit tore his gaze away from his attractive admirer to see an agitated woman rushing towards them. She appeared to be in her mid-to-late thirties with shoulder-length, dishevelled brunette hair. The beige dress she was wearing had a torn sleeve, and there was noticeable bruising around her throat. The woman stopped Fay in her tracks, gripping her by both arms." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Master Sanatsai, help me!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "cried the woman frantically. \"They've taken my son and trapped my husband in some kind of bubble.\"\n\n\"Calm down, calm down,\" said Fay, trying to soothe the panic-stricken woman. \"First of all, take us to your husband.\"\n\n\"Danai Annis,\" Kenit interjected. \"Shouldn't we leave this for the local Guard?\" The withering look Fay gave him made him wish he'd refrained from talking. \"I just mean-\"\n\nFay ignored him. \"Goon,\" she coaxed, \"lead the way, we'll follow.\"\n\nThe woman turned on her heels and darted away in the direction she'd arrived from. Fay immediately gave chase leaving Kenit no option but to do the same. They were led on a short, winding course through the town until their distressed guide slowed to a walk, peering back over her shoulder at Fay.\n\n\"It's this way,\" she said as she headed down a narrow alleyway separating a couple of three-storey residential buildings. She proceeded to lead the pair around the back of the building on their right-hand side where she ran up a staircase leading up to a first floor landing that gave access to aback entrance.\n\nUpon entering the residence, Kenit witnessed a large living room with several pieces of damaged furniture tossed about, and the broken shards of a porcelain vase-obvious signs that a struggle of some kind had taken place. In the centre of the room was a tall middle-aged man standing inside a barrier sphere, pounding away with his fists in a futile effort to escape his translucent confinement.\n\n\"That's my husband,\" said the woman. \"Please, help him.\"\n\nKenit watched while Fay approached the barrier sphere with one hand outstretched. Her invocation of Yuksaydan neutralised the bubble, causing it to dissipate as if consumed by fire or a corrosive substance. Once the man within was free his wife rushed into his arms." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Thank you,\" she said ingratitude to Fay." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"My name is Fay Annis, this is my colleague, Kenit Darbandian. Could you tell us who you are and what happened here,\" said Fay, getting straight down to business. \"Who did this to you?\"\n\n\"My name is Sedona,\" said the woman. \"This is my husband, Radmilio. I don't know who the men were, but they forced their way into our home and did this.\"\n\n\"You mentioned your son was taken,\" Fay prompted.\n\nThe husband responded first. \"I arrived home from work a short while ago to find Sedona lying unconscious on the floor while our son, Tylo, was being dragged outside by six hooded men,\" said Radmilio. \" I went to his aid, immediately. One moment I was tackling one of the men to the floor, the next moment I was literally being thrown around the living room by nobody as the intruders looked on in laughter.\n\n\"Once they'd managed to get Tylo out of the house, two of the intruders remained inside. I picked myself up off the floor then charged at them both, but one of them just waved his hand and I found myself trapped inside that... bubble. There was nothing I could do to free myself, and when the second man asked,\"shall we kill the parents? \"I thought it was over. I was sure Sedona and I were both going to die. But the first man said in reply,\"that won't be necessary, we've got what we came for', then they left. I heard their horses leave in a hurry.\n\n\"I must have been trapped for at least a quarter-hour by the time Sedona regained consciousness. I told her to run, to get help... and here you are.\"\n\n\"So neither of you know who these men are,\" asked Fay, \"or why they would want to abduct you son?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have no idea,\" admitted Radmilio. \"On either count.\"\n\n\"I suspect I might know,\" offered Sedona. \"At least the reason why they took Tylo, if not who they are.\" She looked away from Fay to lock eyes with her husband. \"Sweetheart, I'm sorry I didn't have the opportunity to tell you until now, but while you were at work our son... Tylo, he has... he has developed the power of the Sanatsai.\" She diverted her gaze from her incredulous husband back to Fay. \" A few hours ago Tylo accompanied me to the market to help me buy somethings for this evening's meal. While I was picking out some fruit from a stall Tylo was messing around, juggling three peaches, when suddenly those three peaches started floating haphazardly in the air in front of him. At first we didn't realise it was him doing it but more fruits began floating up from the stall and they started whirling around him-faster and faster. There must have been five or six dozen fruits spinning round Tylo by the time they all just stopped and fell to the ground around his feet.\n\n\"I couldn't believe what I had just seen, but I knew what it meant-and what the law requires in such an event. So, I apologised to the grocer for the damage then I took Tylo to the main Guard station right away to report the incident. After giving our names and address, I was instructed to confine my son to home and ensure he doesn't leave because the Order would be sending someone to see him within the next couple of days.\"\n\nIt finally dawned on Kenit that the couple's son had to be the child he and Fay were looking for. What were the odds that the boy would be abducted shortly before they arrived, by a mysterious group of Zarantar wielders?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"About half an hour ago there was a knock at the backdoor-six hooded men wearing matching uniforms, gathered on the landing. The leader of the group claimed they were from the Order, and that they had come to take the new Sanatsai away to be trained. But I knew he was lying. Something about those men made my skin crawl, not to mention I've seen the uniforms worn by the Order before, and theirs was nothing like yours. Although they had the black hooded cloaks, the rest of their uniform was mostly a dark shade of red with black trim and black stitching.\"\n\nKenit noted the very subtle change in Fay's demeanour when Sedona described the uniforms worn by her son's kidnappers. Did she know who this group was? he wondered.\n\n\"I told the men they had made a mistake-that they'd come to the wrong address,\" Sedona continued. \"I said I was unmarried and had no children, and then I closed the door. I don't know why but I was scared. I just knew I had to get Tylo out of the house, quickly. As I was heading for his room the door burst open behind me. I spun around, and as I feared, the six men marched into our home. The head of the group said that I was a terrible liar, and without even laying a hand on me, he started to strangle me. I could feel the invisible hand around my throat, squeezing. I must have passed out, because the next thing I remember is waking upon the floor to find Radmilio trapped inside that bubble.\"\n\nKenit couldn't believe what he was hearing. This supposedly simple little errand was fast turning into a potential nightmare, and worse than that, it was only just beginning.\n\n\"All right,\" said Fay. \"It appears that it is your son my colleague and I have come to Relona to find. I realise you must both be worried sick about him, but I assure we will do everything we canto rescue him.\" She turned her attention to Kenit. \"First, we should notify the local Guard, at once. We need to ask them to setup checkpoints at all the exits out of town, and provide men to help us conduct a thorough sweep.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I think it might be too late for that,\" Radmilio interrupted, \"I heard the men say they were leaving town straightaway." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And the haste in which they left makes me doubt they'll still be here for you to find.\"\n\n\"In that case,\" replied Fay, \"we'll try to pickup their trail right away. They don't have too great ahead start onus. Nonetheless, once we leave I'd still like for you to go to the local Guard to request the setting up of checkpoints and the initiation of a sweep of the town. In all likelihood you're probably correct in your assessment that the men have already left. But they won't be able to evade us for long. You'll see your son again, I promise.\"\n\nFay sounded so convincing Kenit almost believed her-wanted to believe her. But he wasn't nearly as confident they could track down the boy let alone rescue him. The men who took Tylo had at least a half-hour head start, but worse than that, they were demonstrably wielders of Zarantar, a prospect that filled him with dread because these men couldn't possibly be from the Order.\n\n\"Danai Annis, what if the Guard should come upon this group while we're trying to pickup their trail outside town?\" Kenit asked. \"They would be powerless to prevent them from escaping.\"\n\n\"The Guard will know to give a wide berth to misusers of Zarantar. All they need do is to keep watch until we arrive to take care of the situation. Now, let us move out.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Master Sanatsai.\" Though clearly anxious, Sedona seemed to beholding it together well. \"Please bring our son back.\"\n\nTurning on her heels, Fay marched purposefully towards the backdoor, and Kenit fell into step behind her, following her out of the house. As they descended the staircase at the back of the building he wondered just how his counterpart was planning to pickup the trail of the men who'd abducted Tylo. They could beheading anywhere, assuming they had left the town already. He refrained from voicing any such query, content to just follow Fay's lead while she retraced their steps back the way they had come." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Several minutes later they arrived back at the inn where their horses were stabled. The two stablemen were surprised to see them return so early but they were pleased when Fay tossed them each a gold ranid.\n\n\"So, I take it we're heading back to the seminary to send a message to the Council?\" said Kenit questioningly, as they led their mounts outside.\n\n\"Why would we do that?\" Fay's tone made him feel as though he'd just posed the most stupid question imaginable.\n\n\"To request reinforcements to help us recover the boy.\"\n\n\"There's no time for that,\" said Fay, dismissively. \"Besides, what purpose would it serve to call reinforcements?\"\n\n\"Well, whoever these men who took the boy are, there's at least six of them and just two of us.\" And rescuing Tylo from the clutches of his Zarantar wielding abductors almost certainly meant a confrontation: a fight he would be ill equipped to participate in. And while he had grounds to believe Fay could handle six adversaries by herself-if all the stories about her were true-Kenit was all too conscious of the fact that he'd believed similarly about Marit Katarnian, five months earlier.\n\n\"And your point is?\" asked Fay, as she brought them to a halt outside on the street in front of the inn.\n\n\"The point is...\" Kenit didn't wish to appear cowardly but he had to tell Fay the truth, or something resembling the truth. \"The point is,\" he said, \"if it becomes necessary to fight in order to rescue the boy, you might want someone other than myself as backup. Somebody with actual combat experience.\"\n\n\"You're probably right. But you're all I've got right now, so I'll just have to make do.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"But-\" Kenit's protestation was cut short when Fay sighed, pointedly locking her eyes on his." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Whether she was angry or just exasperated he couldn't say for certain but there was no doubt she was displeased.\n\n\"Kenit.\" It was the second time Fay had addressed him by his first name, not by his rank and family name. \"When you were given the two choices, why did you choose to become an apprentice?\" Given her demeanour Kenit hadn't anticipated the gentleness in her tone; she sounded like a concerned mother.\n\n\"Because...\" It dawned on him that he didn't really have an answer. \"Because I... Well...\"\n\n\"It's all right, there isn't aright answer,\" interjected Fay, \"so you don't need to tell me what you think I want to hear.\"\n\nIt was a relief for him to hear those words. \"The truth is I don't really know why I accepted the apprenticeship,\" Kenit conceded. \"I guess I saw the opportunity as a chance fora little adventure. Plus, I assumed I would be sent back home to my family sooner rather than later.\"\n\n\"And yet you completed the ten years training and were inducted into the Order. You succeeded where many fail, and others choose to quit. You have earned the right to wear that uniform,\" Fay gestured at his clothing, \"so never doubt yourself in that regard. But you must also remember that having embraced the tremendous gift you've been bestowed with, you now have a responsibility to use it whenever the need arises.\"\n\nKenit began to feel somewhat guilty about his reticence to attempt a rescue of the kidnapped boy. Fay was right, he did have a responsibility to use his power to help others. Whether or not he was up to the task was another matter entirely. \"All right, what's the plan?\" he asked. \"The abductors could be anywhere by now.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fay elegantly climbed up into the saddle of her horse. \"We'll head north out of town, see if we can pickup a trail.\"\n\n\"How can you be sure they went north?\" asked Kenit, looking up at Fay.\n\n\"I can't be certain. But the balance of probability favours going north. If the group had fled south we would have encountered them on our way here. Heading east would take them towards the border with Mirtana. There's a large military presence in the area: three major garrison towns, not to mention the border patrols. And assuming the group wants to avoid a confrontation with the Order, they wouldn't travel westward as we have a training camp a few miles west of here, and of course, the Duranis campus is to the northwest.\n\n\"It would make the most sense for our quarry to head north, taking them into the Sharadi Forest. It's avast wilderness spanning both sides of the border, going there would make it easy for them to conceal their crossing into Mirtana. For all we know, they could very well be based in the Sharadi. The forest contains several ruins of an ancient civilisation that could be used as abase.\"\n\nKenit had to trust in Fay's judgement. She obviously knew what she was doing, she was the experienced one and following her lead was the prudent course of action. So, in spite of his misgivings about the potential dangers that lay ahead of them, he mounted his horse.\n\n\"Very well, Danai. Lead the way.\"\n\nFay urged her horse into a brisk trot and Kenit did likewise. The hunt was on for the mysterious kidnappers of a young Sanatsai-to-be." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden and Master Ari were not yet out of the valley, so she was taken by surprise when he halted in his tracks to proudly declare that they had finally reached their destination. Confused, Kayden slowly spun around, three hundred and sixty degrees, to cast her dubious eyes over their surroundings. Straight ahead, to the north, were deserted flatlands, just grass as far as the eye could see. To her left she saw the western ridge of the valley, the skies behind it tinged with the orange-red glow of the dying light from the sun, disappearing below the horizon. Behind her was the southern pass that had brought them into the valley, while to her right she could just about seethe eastern ridge of the valley being encroached upon by the darkness of rapidly approaching nightfall.\n\nShe and Ari had just a handful of small and medium sized white rocks for company, haphazardly scattered about, protruding from the earth. She very much doubted she'd been brought all that way just to stare at some rocks.\n\n\"Master Ari,\" she exclaimed. \"We're in the middle of nowhere.\"\n\n\"That's a matter of perspective.\"\n\nKayden looked on as Ari invoked Sinjaydan to create a large illumination orb that he sent floating several feet above their heads. Next he removed the knapsack from his shoulder, crouched down, and began to unpack it. First came out a large red and white check tablecloth that he spread out upon the grass before him. Though she was growing accustomed to Ari's unorthodox manner, Kayden had a hard time believing he'd brought heron a two-hour trek for the sole purpose of having a picnic.\n\nAri looked up at her. \"Have a seat, Kayden.\" He gestured for her to sit opposite him on the other side of the tablecloth." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden removed the knapsack from her shoulder, placing it gently on the ground, then duly sat down across from Ari. She watched as he removed a number of cloth bundles from his own knapsack that he proceeded to unwrap. The respective bundles contained stoned dates, an assortment of nuts and dried fruit, slices of cold meat, and some vegetable fritters. They were going to have a picnic, it seemed.\n\n\"If you look inside your knapsack you'll find a canteen and two mugs, plus a few treats for desert,\" said Ari. \"The canteen contains honeyed mint tea, why don't you pour us both a cup?\"\n\nKayden reached for the knapsack and proceeded to empty its contents. First she pulled out the canteen-still very warm to the touch-then two ceramic mugs. Next she removed three cloth bundles and set them down on the tablecloth. As she began pouring the tea, Ari stood up and turned his back to her. She observed with interest as he thrust a hand forward atone of the larger rocks before him. A stream of shimmering air, resembling a heat haze, extended from him to the white rock; Ari was invoking Shakbarilsan to rapidly heat up the rock. Within moments it was so hot the rock was radiating heat back towards them. He repeated this process with a few of the smaller rocks that circled their picnic spot before sitting back down.\n\n\"Summer nights hereon the island tend to be rather mild,\" announced Ari, \"but once you reach my age a little extra warmth is always very welcome, nonetheless.\"\n\nKayden handed Aria cup of mint tea, for which he thanked her, then she set about unwrapping the three remaining cloth bundles. The first bundle contained a selection of jam tarts, the second an assortment of flapjacks, and the third contained several oatmeal biscuits." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Master Ari, you didn't bring me all the way out hereto eat,\" she said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What are we really doing here?\"\n\n\"The answer to that question shall reveal itself to you soon,\" Ari replied cryptically. \"In the meantime, tuck in. We'll be here awhile yet.\" With that he began to help himself to some dates.\n\nGrasping her mug of tea, Kayden held it up to her nose. She had never tasted mint tea before, honeyed or otherwise, but it sure did smell good. She took a cautious sip of the beverage and swallowed.\n\n\"Mmmmm!\" she sounded. \"That tastes so good.\"\n\nSmiling back at her, Ari replied, \"Yes, it does.\"\n\nKayden proceeded to help herself to the food on offer. For the next few minutes she and Ari ate and drank in contented silence.\n\nThe lull in conversation eventually came to an end when Ari said, \"On our way here you brought up the topic of your history lessons, which is rather fortuitous because the weight of history is one of the reasons for your presence here today.\" He took another sip of mint tea then set down his mug. \"Perhaps the most important historical account you would have been taught while on campus is the role played by the Rogue during the Great War; correct?\"\n\n\"Yes, Master,\" replied Kayden as she helped herself to another fritter. \"Though I don't see how the stories about a rogue Sanatsai constitute actual history.\"\n\n\"I'm not sure what you mean.\"\n\n\"Oh come on, Master! The alleged accounts of the Rogue are nothing more than tales of the kind parents tell their children in order to frighten them into behaving.\"\n\nAri fixed her with a penetrating gaze. \"In someways, Kayden, you are right,\" he said soberly. \"The life of the Rogue is very much a cautionary tale. But I assure you, the Rogue was areal flesh and blood person just like you, and the instrument by which Josario, the Usurper King, waged war in his quest to subjugate the Nine Kingdoms and establish an empire.\" The intensity of his gaze eased, slightly. \"I'm curious as to why you believe otherwise.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden didn't have to give Ari's query much thought. \"Back on campus, whenever any of the instructors mention the Rogue, it's always in such vague terms. They seem to go out of their way to avoid identifying this person: they never provide a name, never provide a place of birth, never provide a physical description... Nothing. For that matter, they also refrain from specifying the gender of the Rogue, as you've been doing. It's almost as if someone decided that the less detail provided about this alleged rogue Sanatsai the easier it will be for everyone to keep the story straight.\"\n\n\"You are very cynical for one so young.\" Ari chuckled in good nature. \" But to address your point, the reason for the vagueness in the specifics of the Rogue's identity is twofold. Firstly, the purpose of teaching you apprentices about the role played the Rogue during the Great War is to warn you of the dangers of misusing and abusing the great power you've been blessed with. So in that regard the identity of the Rogue is ultimately irrelevant. And secondly, the truth of the matter is, none of your instructors know the true identity of the Rogue anymore than you do.\n\n\"When Josario unleashed his weapon of choice against the Nine Kingdoms very few people who subsequently encountered the Rogue lived to tell the tale. As a result, during the Great War it was frequently whispered that to look upon the face of the Rogue was to see death itself.\"\n\n\"But Master Ari,\" said Kayden. \"Even if I accept you at your word that the Rogue was areal person, surely the accounts taught to us are exaggerated.\"\n\nPicking up another date, Ari asked, \"What makes you say that?\" He placed the sweet brown fruit in his mouth and chewed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"According to the historical accounts, after Josario usurped the throne of Balintana and subjugated the kingdom, he was then quickly able to conquer the kingdoms of Yaristana, Jibaltana and Farintana." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The rapid advancement of his forces only slowed down when the king of Shintana pre-empted Josario's inevitable invasion of his kingdom to launch a counter-offensive. Yet, in spite of this setback Josario's forces were still able to conquer two thirds of Shintana before the coalition you helped form defeated them decisively during the final battle of the Great War, at Lilac Valley.\n\n\"The problem with this simplistic account of history is the idea that by seizing the reigns of power in Balintana-the smallest and weakest of the Nine Kingdoms-Josario could then use it as a springboard for accomplishing such incredible military successes, in under two years, because of a single Sanatsai spearheading his forces. It's just not believable.\"\n\nWhile waiting for his response, Kayden took the opportunity to pour herself some more honeyed mint tea. She glanced at him when the reply she was anticipating did not arrive. Master Ari appeared to be locked in thought. Reminiscing about something, perhaps?\n\n\"It's not believable to you because you never witnessed with your own two eyes what the Rogue was capable of,\" Ari remarked, finally. \" Experience would surely change your mind, make no mistake. For my part, I can tell you in no uncertain terms that the Rogue was the most powerful Sanatsai I had ever encountered-able to utilise Zarantar in ways I never imagined, and with a mastery and control I'd never seen the like of before.\n\n\"It might interest you to hear that some of the abilities you have learned to master as an apprentice, were first pioneered by the Rogue.\"\n\nThat was a very interesting revelation, Kayden realised; no wonder she'd never heard it mentioned before. Throughout the Nine Kingdoms it was a commonly held view that the Rogue was evil incarnate. If the people were to learn that all Sanatsai of the Order are trained to use abilities first mastered by the Rogue it would likely prove very controversial." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Suffice to say,\" continued Ari, \"you should believe everything you have ever been told about the Rogue. To this day no other Sanatsai has reached the heights or matched the power of the Rogue, not even me.\"\n\n\"Master, if that were true, how could you have single-handedly defeated the Rogue on the last day of the Great War?\n\nHe began laughing wholeheartedly.\n\nKayden didn't think she had said anything even remotely funny, but clearly Master Ari felt differently.\n\n\"Oh, my young friend,\" sighed Ari once he had regained his composure. \"As much as I might like to take all the credit for our victory that day, the truth is, it required many of us, Sanatsai and Jaymidari alike, working in unison to overcome the Rogue. And fortunately for us, it proved decisive. Once word spread across the battlefield that the Rogue had fallen it took the wind out of the sails of Josario's forces and they quickly began to surrender. It seems he made the mistake of convincing his soldiers they could not be defeated as long as they were led into battle by the Rogue. That his men believed this to be true was a blessing in disguise for our side. By the time we defeated the Rogue we had lost so many people during the battle we would surely have lost anyway if Josario's men hadn't laid down their arms.\"\n\n\"So how did you do it, Master?\" said Kayden, reaching fora jam tart. \"The accounts of how the Rogue was killed are very vague. I would love to hear the whole story from you, from the beginning, starting with the evening before the battle, when the coalition encamped along the bank of the Kassani River and the leaders of the resistance pledged to help you realise your dream of establishing the Order.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It's a rather lengthy story,\" Ari warned.\n\n\"I'm not going anywhere, Master.\"\n\n\"Very well.\" Ari poured himself some more mint tea then proceeded to narrate his story as Kayden listened with intent interest.\n\nIt had taken over an hour, but finally Kenit and Fay reached the southern edge of Sharadi Forest. During the ride Kenit found it hard to countenance Fay's assertion that the six-strong group of kidnappers must have journeyed to the Sharadi. They hadn't picked up a trail, or any signs to confirm the validity of Fay's conviction. Nonetheless, he refrained from giving voice to his misgivings. As far as he was concerned he was very much the junior party of this partnership, therefore had no real option other than to trust Fay's judgement.\n\nA quarter of an hour after entering the forest it was proving slow going on horseback. The trees were densely packed together, so the pair couldn't ride much faster than a trot. Kenit could seethe sky in places through the thick canopy of branches and leaves overhead but it was darker than it should have been. Although there were still a couple of hours daylight left, ominous dark-grey rainclouds were rolling in from the north, blotting out the late evening sun entirely. Those clouds were also triggering Kenit's anxiety. While it was bad enough that he and Fay were searching Sharadi Forest without backup, it now seemed as though they were in fora drenching sooner rather than later, too.\n\nUpon reaching the moss-covered remnants of a stonewall-the first sign they had encountered of the ancient ruins Sharadi Forest was known for-Fay brought her mount to a halt. Kenit did the same, but was caught by surprise when Fay gracefully dismounted her horse then looked up at him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We'll leave the horses here and continue on foot,\" she announced.\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"They make too much noise,\" she replied. \"I'd rather our quarry didn't hear us approaching when we find them.\"\n\nKenit couldn't argue with that logic so he too dismounted, though it did make him feel more vulnerable which he knew wasn't logical. He was no safer from attack on horseback than on foot, although it was certainly the case he could flee more quickly on a horse if the need arose.\n\nAfter they tethered the horses to a couple of trees, Kenit was caught off guard again when Fay invoked Dashimkuzar, creating a thin, translucent aura that enveloped her, rather appropriately, like a second skin-the literal meaning of the word. The obvious inference to be drawn from the action was that Fay was anticipating trouble from this point onwards.\n\n\"Until we locate our men, let's err on the side of caution and maintain Dashimkuzar,\" said Fay. \"It is getting dark, and we might not spot an archer lurking in the trees until it's too late.\"\n\n\"But we already know the men we're after are wielders of Zarantar, so why worry about arrows?\" He knew the'second skin' was an impenetrable barrier that would protect them against conventional projectile weapons, as well as bladed weapons, but it would still leave them vulnerable to certain Zarantar attacks.\n\nFay looked at him as though he were a simpleton. \"An arrow or crossbow bolt will kill the unsuspecting Sanatsai just as well as a Zarantar strike.\"\n\nShe had a point there, Kenit admitted to himself-not that it negated his contention that Dashimkuzar would be effectively useless against adversaries who also wielded Zarantar. For one thing, the \"second skin\" could only withstand one, maybe two direct hits from a strike unleashed by a wielder of Zarantar. For another, the level of concentration required to sustain the protective barrier around a constantly moving body, made it near impossible to maintain while engaged in actual combat. And as powerful as she might be, not even Fay would rely upon Dashimkuzar for defence if they should be drawn into a fight with the kidnappers in order to rescue the abducted boy." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nonetheless, until they did encounter their quarry-assuming they were present in Sharadi Forest-it was prudent to mitigate the risk of a silent, but deadly projectile let loose from the trees. Kenit invoked Dashimkuzar, forming the tell-tale translucent aura that would offer the necessary protection against such an occurrence, then followed Fay further into the forest.\n\nHe couldn't be certain just how long they had been walking when he first noticed the change in their surroundings, but they had reached an area of the forest that was much less dense and was increasingly littered with the dilapidated remains of a lost civilisation. What he could be reasonably certain of was they were now getting closer to finding what they were searching for. At least Fay seemed to think so. She ceased her invocation of Dashimkuzar and stopped in her tracks. Looking back over her shoulder at him, she pressed a finger to her lips before advancing forward once more, taking extra care to move as quietly as possible.\n\nKenit letdown his protective aura and followed Fay through the trees. It wasn't long before he picked up the murmur of voices and the movement of bodies a short distance ahead. Fay brought them to a stop then crouched down at the foot of a tree. Kenit squatted down behind her, and peering over her shoulder he could see, beyond the line of trees a few yards ahead, the forest opened up into avast clearing that was home to the ruins of what he believed must have been a temple complex. It was an educated guess. The present day people of the Nine Kingdoms held no religious beliefs so places of worship did not exist anywhere in the Nine Kingdoms, leaving Kenit with no frame of reference. But historians seemed to be in agreement that in the distant past the ancients had built temples to worship statues they had carved with their own hands; a notion Kenit found bizarre in the extreme." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Surveying the scene, he spied men dressed in dark red uniforms with black trim, and hooded black cloaks. There was considerably more than six of them-a lot more. He doubted there were less than eighty of them in total. It was entirely possible there were as many as a hundred. Any hopes of rescuing Radmilio and Sedona's son just evaporated.\n\n\"It's as I suspected,\" said Fay barely above a whisper, seemingly to herself rather than to Kenit. \"The Conclave.\"\n\n\"The Conclave?\" queried Kenit. He had absolutely no idea what Fay was referring to.\n\n\"It is something the Order does not like to acknowledge,\" she began, \"so you cannot repeat what I am about to tell you.\"\n\n\"Understood, Danai.\"\n\nKenit's curiosity was well and truly piqued.\n\n\"There is one particular detail of the early history of the Order that has been censored at the insistence of the Council. You will find no mention of it in any records, and anyone who possesses knowledge of it will deny having any such knowledge if questioned about it.\n\n\"At the end of the Great War, when the ruling families of the Nine Kingdoms agreed to pass into law the requirement that all present and future Sanatsai born within their realms must join the Order or have their Zarantar bound, there was some... dissent against the idea. While most of those Sanatsai who opposed the creation of the Order reluctantly assented in the end, there was a significant minority who became fanatically opposed to relinquishing their autonomy. They banded together to form the Conclave-a movement dedicated to eliminating the Order in its infancy. Subsequently, the first six months of the Order's existence was spent putting down the rebellion. It was a... destructive period, but we succeeded in wiping out the renegade Sanatsai.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "If Fay's account was accurate, and the Conclave was destroyed seven decades ago, then it appeared someone had resurrected the group without the Order getting wind of it.\n\n\"Danai Annis, if you're right, how could anyone have reconstituted the group without us finding out about it?\" asked Kenit. \"And how were they able to recruit people? Thanks to our alliance with the Sisterhood we always know when anew Sanatsai manifests in the Nine Kingdoms, so it's not feasible that these men gathered here are people who slipped through the cracks.\"\n\n\"I don't have an answer,\" admitted Fay. \"But it's possible this group is comprised of foreigners who've infiltrated the Nine Kingdoms from abroad. Sharadi Forest is a very good place to hide and remain undetected.\"\n\n\"Well, whether you're right or not, we still need to withdraw. We'll have to return to the seminary to report back to the Council, and to request the reinforcements I mentioned before we left Relona.\"\n\n\"No!\" said Fay. \"We stay until we can ascertain if the boy is being held here, somewhere.\"\n\n\"So what if he is? There's nothing we can do to help him-not without reinforcements. It looks as though there's at least a hundred of these renegade Sanatsai, and only the two of us. We should go now before we are discovered. We can return in greater numbers tomorrow.\"\n\n\"There's no guarantee they will still be here tomorrow, besides-\" Fay's attention was drawn back to the ruins of the temple complex; there was some activity.\n\nTwo Conclave personnel emerged from behind the remnants of a stonewall, escorting an adolescent boy. It was a safe assumption he was Tylo, the abducted boy Kenit and Fay had come to rescue. His hands were bound in front of him, while a gag was tied around his mouth. As the gathered throng of uniformed men and women looked on, the boy was slowly led towards an area of the complex that had once been the interior of a large building but was now completely exposed to the elements. The roof was gone entirely, while here and there the remnants of several ruined walls remained standing-all but one no taller than waist height. A raised stone platform prominently featured, upon which stood a weather-worn stone altar." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tylo was brought to the altar and made to stand beside it while his two escorts remained on either side of him, waiting-for someone or something.\n\n\"Things are worse than I thought,\" muttered Fay.\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"There is a Saharbashi present, or there will be soon.\"\n\nKenit's heart skipped a beat, his breath caught in his throat. The mere mention of the word Saharbashi made him feel nauseous. \"That... that doesn't make any sense... does it?\" he stammered. \"Why would there be a Saharbashi among a group of Sanatsai, even if they are renegades?\" He failed to keep the fear from his voice.\n\n\"An alliance of convenience actually makes a lot of sense,\" countered Fay. \"Alone, a single Saharbashi could never hope to take on the Order-he would need to form a group. Yet the formation of a group of Saharbashi has never been possible because they simply cannot trust each other. But joining forces with a group of Sanatsai fanatically devoted to destroying the Order would be the perfect alternative. For all we know, this Saharbashi could very well be responsible for the revival of the Conclave in the first place.\"\n\nKenit couldn't understand why Fay didn't sound at all disturbed by what she was speculating; he found the whole idea terrifying, if it was true.\n\n\"How can you even be sure there is a Saharbashi here?\" he asked.\n\n\"A bloodletting is being prepared.\" Fay didn't take her eyes off the scene ahead of them. \"The boy will be drained of some or all of his blood.\"\n\n\"I... I thought Saharbashi used blood from animals.\"\n\n\"Most do,\" Fay affirmed. \"But the more knowledgeable among them favour blood from people, especially when they have no fear of being caught.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kenit had never heard this about the Saharbashi before, but Fay spoke so authoritatively he didn't doubt the truthfulness of the claim.\n\n\"A bloodletting is usually conducted at nightfall,\" continued Fay, \"so I don't expect our Saharbashi to make an appearance until then. We will await his arrival before we make our move to save the boy.\"\n\nWas Danai Annis out of her mind? Kenit thought, in alarm. It was bad enough she was insisting on attempting a rescue of Tylo from a hundred or so hostile Sanatsai, but now she wanted to wait fora Saharbashi to join them before doing so. He knew only too well what a practitioner of Zarantar Najist was capable of, he had seen it firsthand five months ago during the ill-fated mission in Anzarmenia. What Fay was suggesting was folly of the highest order.\n\n\"Danai Annis,\" he said quietly, \"I don't mean to speak out of turn, but the two of us attempting to rescue the boy from a hundred renegade Sanatsai is madness. And not to put too fine a point on it, attempting to do so only after their Saharbashi ally has arrived would be suicide. We've done everything we can, but now it's time to leave, there's nothing to be gained by throwing our lives away on a fool's errand.\"\n\nFay slowly turned around to face Kenit; she did not look amused. \"Your concern has been duly noted. But we're going to rescue the boy, nonetheless.\"\n\nKenit started to inch away from Fay, readying to leave. \"You'll have to do it without me,\" he hissed, voice rising, \"I didn't come hereto die.\"\n\nGrabbing Kenit by his tabard, Fay yanked him towards her-their faces inches apart. \"Keep your voice down before you give us away.\" The indignant look in her eyes made it clear she had finally lost patience with him. \"Now listen tome very carefully. You can be as afraid as you want. I don't care. But as for running away and leaving the boy to his fate? Not happening! We do not abandon our own... ever!\" She released her grip on him. \"In other words, we're going to rescue Tylo or we will die trying, is that understood?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He was at a loss for words; Fay had him between a rock and a hard place. If he fled now, he was finished as a Sanatsai of the Order. He couldn't return to Temis Rulan in the event of another prominent figure being killed in the line of duty because he had abdicated his responsibility. He felt shamed by Fay's commitment to her calling, even if it meant her death. What choice did he have but to stay? Whether he liked it or not he was Fay's backup.\n\n\"Forgive me, Danai,\" he said finally. \"You're right, we can't abandon the boy. So what do we do now?\"\n\n\"Now we wait.\" Fay turned back around to resume her observation of the Conclave gathering amid the ruins of the temple complex.\n\nKayden had completely lost track of time while sitting, listening to Ari recount the final battle of the Great War. The manner of his narration was such that not only was she thoroughly engrossed, to the point where she couldn't say how long she'd been listening for, she also needed to frequently remind herself she wasn't hearing a fictional tale from a master storyteller. What she was being told was historical fact, events that had really taken place seven decades earlier. And now, finally, Master Ari had come to the part she most wanted to hear.\n\n\"Though I, too, had heard all the stories of the undefeatable Sanatsai leading Josario's forces to victory after victory, ruthlessly terrorising those who opposed the Usurper King, nothing could have prepared me for the reality I bore witness to on the battlefield that day. The Rogue was a brutal and sadistic killer, and I believe this fuelled not only the certainty of victory in Josario's men, but also their fear of defeat. As long as the Rogue lived there was no hope they would ever surrender." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We knew from the start it was imperative that Josario's greatest weapon be removed from the battlefield if victory was to be achieved, hence the reason the resistance decided to throw all its eggs into one basket. Even though three other divisions had been mobilised to march against smaller Shintanese cities further north, we committed to engaging the division that had to pass through Lilac Valley before crossing the Kassani River to attack the capital. We knew this division would be led by the Rogue so that's where all our resources were devoted– the fate of the Nine Kingdoms would be decided at Lilac Valley.\n\n\"As the battle raged into its eighth hour many fighters had fallen, on both sides, but we were undeniably bearing the brunt of those losses, and we couldn't afford to lose. Defeat that day would have meant relinquishing the unconquered third of Shintana to Josario. If that happened there would have been no stopping him then. With Shintana being both the largest and the most powerful of the Nine Kingdoms, its fall would have been swiftly followed by the conquests of Darmitana, Mirtana, Lirantana and Astana.\n\n\"We were slowly being pushed back towards the river when I finally caught sight of the Rogue for the first time. A tall figure, clad head to toe in black, a hooded cloak billowing in the breeze, and a face inexplicably obscured by shadow, despite the bright light of day. At last we knew whereto concentrate our attack. I remember it vividly, more than a dozen of us-both Sanatsai and Jaymidari-rallied together and surged forward with singularity of purpose... to kill the Rogue.\"\n\nAri briefly paused his narration and Kayden found she was holding her breath in anticipation, eagerly waiting to hear how the Rogue was ultimately defeated." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It would bean understatement to describe the ensuing encounter as hard fought,\" Ari continued. \"Only three of us remained standing when the Rogue was finally subdued-down on hands and knees, head bowed in defeat, staring resignedly at the ground, just yards in front of me.\"\n\nFinally. The moment Kayden was longing to hear had arrived.\n\n\"With sword in hand I moved in for the kill.\"\n\n\"So what happened when you killed the Rogue?\" she interrupted, sounding more excited than she intended.\n\nAri gazed fixedly at her, his face looking sombre. \"I didn't.\"\n\n\"What do you mean you didn't kill the Rogue?\" Kayden was confused. This wasn't how the story was supposed to go.\n\n\"I couldn't do it,\" Ari confessed. \"Not until I had looked with my own eyes upon the face that had been the harbinger of death to so many.\"Look at me, \"I demanded. The Rogue looked up at me, and our eyes locked. What I saw staring back at me was difficult to comprehend. I had expected to see a monster, the personification of evil, someone hideous in every conceivable way. Instead, what I saw was distress, self-loathing, a longing for death... but nothing remotely ugly. I hadn't anticipated this. Until that moment, I had lost sight of the fact that the Rogue was an actual human being.\"\n\nAll of a sudden, Kayden's senses were assailed by Zarantar. Whatever the cause, it was so close she involuntarily gasped with a discernible intake of breath.\n\n\"You can feel that, can't you?\" said Ari rhetorically.\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\nAri slowly rose to his feet. \"It's the reason why you're here,\" he replied. \"Stand up, Kayden.\" Despite her apprehension she duly obeyed his instruction. \"Now turnaround.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Turning around in obedience, Kayden unwittingly took a step backwards, on account of the sight that greeted her." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When she had first sat down on the spot where she now stood, all that was behind her were rolling fields as far as the eye could see. Yet, she was now confronted by the sight of avast forest, literally a couple of feet before her, and a dirt path winding its way through the trees into the darkness.\n\nShe peered back over her shoulder at Ari. \"Master, what is this?\"\n\n\"The Sisterhood call it many different names: the Forest of Revelation; the Forest of Enlightenment; the Forest of Reflection. These are just three such given names,\" said Ari. \"It can only be seen at night, and it is the reason why I brought you out here.\"\n\n\"I don't understand.\"\n\n\"In the years before I founded the Order,\" Ari began in explanation, \"if a Jaymidari had concerns about a Sanatsai in her charge, but those concerns did not yet warrant the binding of Zarantar, she would bring the Sanatsai in question to this place.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"The forest provided a final opportunity for troublesome Sanatsai to avoid the binding of their Zarantar.\" Kayden did not like the sound of that. The implication was obvious. \"The Sister responsible for guiding such a Sanatsai would send her charge into the forest to walk the path to the other side, in order to determine if the binding of Zarantar was the appropriate course of action.\"\n\nThe explanation left Kayden confused.\n\n\"How exactly would sending somebody into the forest help a Sister make that decision?\"\n\n\"Walking the path reveals the path of the walker.\"\n\nKayden wanted to roll her eyes but settled for groaning on the inside. The cryptic response made no sense whatsoever-ergo it was less than useless. She averted her eyes from Ari back to the dirt path ahead of her, disappearing into the forest." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If I am expected to enter the forest,\" she said, \"I would like to know what's in there waiting for me.\"\n\n\"I couldn't tell you,\" Ari conceded. \"I've never entered the forest myself; it's been almost a century since anyone has. But as I understand it, what lies within is different for everyone.\"\n\nPeering back over her shoulder at Ari again, Kayden asked, \"So what do I do?\"\n\n\"Just make your way to the end of the path. I'll be waiting for you there.\"\n\n\"That's it?\" Surely it couldn't be that simple, she thought.\n\n\"Yes, that's it,\" affirmed Ari. \"But I must warn you...\"\n\nKayden listened attentively.\n\n\"It's important you don't turn back or stray from the path.\"\n\n\"Understood,\" said Kayden, though she didn't really understand. She returned her gaze to the path laid out before her and stiffened her resolve. Whatever obstacles maybe lying in wait for her within the forest, she would overcome, just like she always did. She marched forward purposefully, setting one foot in front of the other, initiating her journey into the unknown. The Forest of Revelation held no fear for her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The thick, dark clouds made it impossible for Kenit to seethe setting of the sun through the canopy of branches and leaves overhead. Nonetheless, he was still able to discern, from the increasing gloom, that night was falling. While remaining crouched behind Fay at the foot of a large tree, the only light visible was emanating from a dozen or so illumination orbs floating above the ruins of the ancient temple complex. During the wait for nightfall, there had been so little activity among the contingent of renegade Sanatsai gathered amid the ruins in the clearing beyond the trees, Kenit found himself having to suppress a prolonged bout of yawning that culminated in a whack to the arm from Fay, after he inadvertently dozed off on one occasion.\n\nHis mind wandered uneasily to thoughts of how the night would likely play out. The rescue he was preparing to pull off with Fay was dangerous, even if everything went to plan. And given his prior experience, his confidence that nothing would go wrong was pretty low. The only crumb of comfort he had to hold onto was that this time he was in the company of the legendary Fay Annis. Not only was she regarded as the most powerful Sanatsai of the Order, she was also, thankfully, going to be implementing the most dangerous part of the rescue mission.\n\nHe was jolted out of his ruminations when Fay muttered, \"The guest of honour is arriving.\"\n\nHe peered over her shoulder to catch sight of a short, middle-aged man dressed in dark robes entering the clearing from the north with four escorts from the Conclave.\n\nFay peered back over her shoulder at him, staring intently into his eyes. \"Are you ready for this, Kai Darbandian?\" she asked.\n\n\"Ready as I'll ever be,\" he replied, with as much conviction as he could muster." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Repeat the plan tome.\"\n\nAfter a sharp intake of breath, he duly obliged. \"Very well. You will move into position in the trees on the western edge of the clearing. Before the bloodletting ritual commences you will create a diversion to induce the Conclave into pursuing you into the forest. Once the boy is left unguarded I will invoke Raytandushay in order to enter the clearing unseen. I will release Tylo, then lead him back to where we left our horses. You will rejoin us there, at which point we'll swiftly depart Sharadi Forest and head back to Relona.\"\n\n\"Very good,\" said Fay. \"But keep in mind I cannot guarantee they will all follow me into the forest. It maybe necessary for you to fight off any stragglers in order to rescue the boy.\"\n\nThat concern had already occurred to Kenit. \"I know,\" he acknowledged.\n\n\"I don't know for certain how these people will react once we make our move. What I can tell you is that the original incarnation of the Conclave was very fanatical. Whenever the Order engaged its members, they always refused to surrender; they fought to the bitter end.\"\n\n\"I understand.\" If the worst came to the worst he would have to kill to save the boy. \"I won't let you down.\"\n\nWithout another word Fay quickly rose from her crouching position and scampered away into the trees. Kenit slowly stood up to watch her depart until she was out of sight. He then turned his attention back to the clearing to keep an eye on events unfolding amid the temple ruins, and await Fay's initiation of their rescue plan.\n\nAshe watched proceedings, Kenit was surprised at just how calm the young boy appeared to be, standing on the dais, flanked by two hooded men. Clearly, Tylo had no idea what was in store for him. Either that or he was simply an incredibly brave kid. There was also the possibility he was already resigned to his fate." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Kenit tensed when the boy was finally forced to lay upon the weathered stone altar." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Whatever Fay was planning to do to attract the attention of the Conclave was going to happen any moment now. He trembled involuntarily as he watched the Saharbashi ascend the dais while withdrawing a dagger from beneath his garments. In stark contrast to himself, the gathering of renegade Sanatsai were apparently looking forward to what they thought was coming. Every man and woman was standing uniformly, facing the raised platform, as still as a collection of statues.\n\nHe shifted his gaze from the spectacle to glance towards the trees at the western edge of the clearing. What was Danai Annis waiting for? he wondered. If she didn't make her move quickly it would be too late to save the life of the boy.\n\nKenit didn't have to wait long for Fay's action. When it came it happened so swiftly it took him just as much by surprise as it did the Conclave. Without warning, one of the renegade Sanatsai standing at the rear of the gathering was lifted off his feet and pulled rapidly through the air-well over a hundred yards-into the trees at the edge of the temple complex. His disappearance was immediately followed by a blood-curdling scream that caused those close by to spin around.\n\nFrom the edge of the clearing the ground began to erupt and tear up, swiftly cutting a number of paths towards the gathered renegade Sanatsai; it was as though a dozen invisible, giant ploughs were hurtling across the ground, shredding the earth in their wake. Almost half the contingent of Conclave personnel was bowled over onto the ground while the remainder were able to react in time, invoking Makfayshulat to levitate into the air and successfully evade the unconventional attack.\n\nTheir quick thinking was punished instantly.\n\nFrom her cover in the trees Fay invoked Balatlaydan, unleashing a rapid volley of incendiary orbs through the air directed at the multiple floating targets. No fewer than a dozen of the enemy were blown to bloody, smouldering pieces." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kenit was awed by the display of power. Fay's diversion was devastating in its effectiveness. From start to finish the attack had taken no more than four or five seconds to throw the Conclave into disarray. Regaining some of his own composure, he returned his gaze to the dais and the stone altar. He was mightily relieved to seethe Saharbashi being hurriedly escorted from the scene towards the line of trees at the eastern edge of the temple complex. During the commotion that ensued, Tylo, was forgotten and left alone upon the altar like apiece of discarded rubbish, though thankfully unharmed.\n\n\"The Order!\" somebody yelled.\n\nTurning his head, he saw that those renegade Sanatsai who'd escaped death or injury were all back on their feet, their initial disarray overcome. The Conclave was now preparing to retaliate. They stood, angrily facing the trees at the western edge of the clearing where the attack had originated. Several men and women unleashed a barrage of incendiary orbs of their own into the trees. Kenit heard the unmistakeable sound of the lethal orbs detonating as they struck against...\n\nHe couldn't see Fay from his position, but he had to assume she was either standing inside a barrier sphere or behind a barrier shield, which should protect her from the onslaught; and now that she had the attention of the Conclave she would retreat as planned, hopefully drawing most, if not all of their number away from the ruins into the forest.\n\n\"I only see one person,\" someone announced. \"He's fleeing.\"\n\n\"Hurry!\" yelled another voice, \"We need to hunt him down before he can send for help.\"\n\nThere was an almighty roar as the Conclave charged forward en masse into the trees in pursuit of their attacker. Kenit observed with keen interest to see how many would remain behind. He was more than a little perturbed by all the fanatical cries of, \"Death to the Order,\" coming from several of the departing renegade Sanatsai, but very relieved that nearly all the Conclave had decided to give chase into the forest. Only three of them remained amid the ruins. One was sitting down on the torn-up ground with a hand gripped around his ankle and a grimace upon his face, while a second male was hobbling on one leg, leaning against an uninjured female counterpart for support. None of the three were paying any attention, whatsoever, to the dais where Tylo had been left alone and unguarded." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The boy was obviously quick-witted, Kenit realised, for he was taking advantage of the disturbance to make an escape attempt. His hands were still bound in front of him, but he was able to remove the gag from his mouth before clambering off the weathered stone altar. He took the time to glance here and thereto discern the best route for escape then cautiously descended the raised platform. Once on the ground, he began to creep forward through the ruins, while simultaneously manoeuvring his fingers to loosen the bonds around his wrists. He was heading steadily towards the trees at the eastern edge of the temple complex, which was the wrong direction as far as Kenit was concerned-in more ways than one.\n\nKenit pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head before invoking Raytandushay to make himself invisible. He dashed out of the trees into the clearing towards Tylo. If he could reach the boy before anyone noticed him trying to escape and, more importantly, before he disappeared into the trees where the Saharbashi and his escorts had fled, Kenit was certain he could pull off his part of the rescue plan without having to engage the Conclave at all.\n\nThe short length of rope binding Tylo's wrists fell away to the ground, discarded, as Kenit swiftly closed in on the boy from behind. Before he could reach the escaping, adolescent hostage, Tylo came to an abrupt halt about two dozen yards short of entering the forest. It was the emergence from the trees of two of the four renegade Sanatsai who had quickly ushered the Saharbashi away from the scene that caused the boy to freeze. It appeared Tylo's presence on the site hadn't been forgotten after all.\n\n\"Where do you think you're going, boy?\" taunted the taller, stockier of the two men." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Kenit stopped right behind his quarry." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Tylo, listen very carefully,\" he whispered. The boy peered back over his shoulder; the confused expression that appeared on his face was to be expected-Kenit was still invisible. \"Look straight ahead and remain calm. I'm from the Order.\" Tylo returned his gaze to the two renegade Sanatsai. \"When you feel my hand on your shoulder, we'll back away from them, slowly and quietly.\"\n\nAshe reached forward, Kenit remembered how strange he always thought it was that while invoking Raytandushay he was still able to see himself while being invisible to other people. Nonetheless, he placed his hand upon Tylo's shoulder and gripped firmly. Immediately, the boy began to back-pedal slowly, so he did the same.\n\n\"Son of a bitch!\" gasped the first renegade Sanatsai. \"The kid shouldn't have any control of his Zarantar yet.\" It was confirmation that Tylo was now invisible, too.\n\n\"He doesn't,\" snapped the second renegade, angrily. \"There is someone from the Order here.\" He thrust a handout in front of himself, casting it from left to right, and back again.\n\nKenit knew it was safe to assume his opposite number was invoking Yuksaydan in the hope that the \"unseen hand\" would locate him and the boy. It might even bean attempt to neutralise the invocation of Raytandushay, making him and Tylo visible. So while he continued to amble backward with the boy, he strengthened his invocation of Raytandushay just in case.\n\n\"What's happening?\" whispered Tylo. \"Can't they see us?\"\n\n\"No, they can't. But we're not safe yet.\"\n\nFortunately, he was able to guide Tylo several feet away from the pair of renegade Sanatsai-back as far as the dais-without their invisibility being compromised. He paused at the base of the raised platform in order to assess their situation. The other two Conclave men, who'd escorted the Saharbashi away, were emerging from the trees to assist in the search for the absconded blood sacrifice. Kenit glanced to the western area of the ruins to check the position of the three renegade Sanatsai who hadn't joined the pursuit of Fay. They were far enough away not to pose a problem. Next he turned his focus to the line of trees at the southern edge of the clearing where he intended to lead Tylo to safety. He had a clear path back into the forest." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "As the writer's co-author, extend the plot.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, coming of age\nAuthor: Ian Gregoire\nTitle: The Exercise of Vital Powers\nChapter: 28" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fay placed both elbows on her desk, interlocked her fingers, then rested her chin on her hands.\n\n\"As tempted as I am to simply report your indiscretion to Sister Idelle, and have you transferred from here, you area valued member of staff-one I would hate to lose,\" she said. \"So, before making a final decision I'd like to hear your version of events. There are always two sides to every story, and I know Kayden is not entirely blameless in this.\"\n\nDaria began to squirm in her seat again.\n\n\"Fay, what do you want me to tell you?\" she said, shamefaced. \"Without going into the details... this beautiful creature, young enough to be my daughter, offered herself tome and I was to weak to resist temptation. But, even on the rare occasion I was able to summon the strength to say no to her... Kayden just has a knack forgetting me to do whatever she wants.\"\n\nFay didn't doubt fora moment the truthfulness of the latter part of that statement. She almost felt sorry for the woman. Once Kayden had set her sights on her, Daria probably had little hope of keeping the apprentice at bay. But that still didn't absolve the Sister of responsibility, especially as she no doubt got what she wanted from Kayden in return.\n\n\"I hope you understand that Kayden being young and beautiful, with an uncanny ability to get under people's skin, in noway mitigates the seriousness of what you did?\" said Fay. \"You know well the rule prohibiting relationships between apprentices and campus staff. And, frankly, you went beyond that.\" She paused fora moment to allow the rebuke to sink in. \"However, I bear some culpability in the predicament you find yourself in.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Daria looked confused, as Fay hoped she would. Technically, she was in noway to blame for the Sister's misconduct, but offering to take some of the responsibility gave her the pretext she needed for not reporting the matter to Idelle... yet.\n\n\"I don't understand,\" confessed Daria.\n\n\"As the administrator here, it is my duty to be aware of everything that happens on campus. The fact that you and Kayden have been carrying on under my nose for well over a year means I haven't been paying nearly as much attention as I should.\" Which was true as far as it went. \"But from this moment on, that changes. As a result, I am suspending your punishment... for now. I am placing you on probation until the end of the year. If you can demonstrate tome that not only is the relationship over, but also your willingness and ability to keep your distance from Kayden for the remainder of her apprenticeship, I will not inform Idelle of your egregious indiscretions.\" Fay could seethe uncertainty written on Daria's face; it was necessary to drive the point home.\n\n\"You are not to speak to her nor interact with her in anyway. If, for any reason, she needs to visit the infirmary, she is to be attended by one of your colleagues while you excuse yourself. Am I making myself clear?\"\n\nSeeing the expression on Daria's face caused Fay to suspect, for the first time, that the relationship with Kayden had been more than just physical-for Daria at least. It clearly meant more to the Sister than Kayden had let on.\n\n\"Would it make a difference if I said I love her?\" asked Daria, meekly.\n\nFay stared long and hard at the other woman.\n\n\"Yes. Yes, it would,\" she intoned after a drawn-out silence. \"It would make things much worse for you.\" She raised her chin from where it rested on her hands, unlocked her fingers, then placed her palms down on her desk, leaning forward. \" So, I suggest you don't say it... and don't even think it. If you are feeling that way, then I'm telling you to stop. And if you're harbouring hopes that once Kayden has completed her apprenticeship you can resume a relationship with her... Well, technically that might be correct, but if I were you, I would abandon such hopes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Kayden is a very special young woman-one of a kind, as you are no doubt already aware." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And as much as it may hurt you to hear this, I do not see you in her future.\"\n\nBiting her lower lip, Daria said nothing in response-the pained look on her face said it all.\n\n\"That will be all,\" said Fay, \"you may return to your duties.\" She watched Daria getup from her seat and head for the door. \"Sister, one more thing before you leave,\" she added, before Daria could exit the office. \"This matter is to remain between the two of us, I do not want rumours spreading around the campus.\"\n\nDaria acknowledged the warning with a silent nod of the head, then departed, leaving Fay alone at her desk.\n\nShe remained in her chair fora couple of minutes, thinking. Eventually, she stood up having decided the first thing she should do next, having dealt with the Daria situation, is to check in with Isko Nardini, whom she had left in charge of campus, to find out if anything of consequence had occurred while she was away. Once done, she would return to her office to make a call to Ari in Temis Rulan. She had a Kayden-related matter to discuss with him.\n\nBreezing out of her office, she went in search of Isko. As she had mentioned to Daria, she would be paying even closer attention to goings on around campus, though she doubted anything Isko had to report would behalf as interesting as her trip to Temis Rulan had been.\n\nLying on her bed, hands beneath her head, Kayden was staring up at the ceiling when the clock tower bell sounded the arrival of midday. She sat up, and swung her legs around to sit perched on the edge of her bed, facing the door of the dorm room. Her roommates would be returning from their classes shortly, before going to the mess hall for lunch, or maybe even heading into town. She eagerly awaited Neryssa's arrival so she could put her underused friendship-making skills to the test." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When the door swung open for the first time, she was disappointed to seethe Malorini Twins-Vida and Aida-stroll into the room, followed by three more of her roommates. The twins looked more than a little surprised to see her perched on her bed.\n\n\"What are you doing here?\" blurted Aida, as she and her sister advanced into the room. \"You've only been gone a day.\"\n\n\"A better question,\" added Vida, \"is why haven't you been expelled yet?\"\n\nKayden had to bite her tongue to avoid delivering a devastating quip at the twins'expense. She was in a good mood and wasn't about to let either of them spoil it.\n\n\"And it's so lovely to see you both, too,\" she said sweetly.\n\nAida scowled at the sarcasm, but Kayden ignored her.\n\nThe other three young women began to quiz her at once about where she really went, as she couldn't possibly have gone to Temis Rulan. According to their logic, for her to have gone there and back in a single day would mean the headquarters of the Order was just half a day's journey away from Antaris campus. If that was true they would surely know about it. Before she could tell them she could neither confirm nor deny their assertions, Kayden's attention was drawn back to the door when Yanina walked in with another roommate.\n\n\"Well, look what the cat dragged in,\" said the tall, swarthy apprentice as she approached Kayden's bed. \"I didn't expect to see you back here for at least a week, possibly two, for that matter.\"\n\nKayden was about to respond when Aida beat her to it, offering her own explanation for Kayden's, briefer than expected, absence." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"She didn't go anywhere, Yanina,\" said Aida, a little triumphantly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"She must have aggravated Master Fay so much that she turned around to make the return journey long before they reached Temis Rulan.\"\n\nYanina came to a halt at the foot of Kayden's bed.\n\n\"Is that true?\" she inquired.\n\n\"Actually, no it's not,\" Kayden retorted, as she stared pointedly at Aida. She averted her gaze to Yanina, to add, \"But please don't ask me about my time away. Both Master Fay and Master Ari have prohibited me from talking about the trip. I cannot tell you where Temis Rulan is, how I got there, or what I did while I was there.\"\n\n\"Do you seriously expect us to believe you met Master Ari?\" said Vida, incredulously.\n\n\"Like I said,\" replied Kayden, switching her focus back to the Malorini Twins, \"I cannot talk about my time away.\"\n\nShe couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction knowing her roommates would never know the truth about her recent experience.\n\n\"All right, so if we take you at your word that you did go to Temis Rulan,\" said Yanina, \"was it disciplinary action or commendation awaiting you there?\"\n\nKayden had to think about that fora moment. \"Maybe a little of both,\" she answered. \"But as I said-\"\n\n\"You can't talk about it,\" Yanina interjected.\n\nShe nodded in the affirmative then her eyes were drawn to the door once more as someone else entered. Again, it wasn't Neryssa; it was Valeria. So all her roommates were present and accounted for, except the one she wanted to see. But she noticed immediately that Valeria was carrying more books than she should." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Why isn't Neryssa with you?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "she asked the newcomer.\n\n\"She had to answer the call of nature, she'll be up shortly,\" said Valeria, making her way towards Neryssa's bed. \"What are you doing back, anyway? Shouldn't you behalf way to Temis Rulan right now?\"\n\n\"Apparently, she's been sworn to secrecy so can't answer any questions about where she went,\" Yanina answered on Kayden's behalf.\n\n\"Really?\" said Valeria, before dumping half the books in her arms upon Neryssa's bed.\n\n\"I'm afraid so,\" Kayden confirmed.\n\n\"Don't believe a word of it, Valeria,\" said Vida, dismissively.\n\n\"Yeah!\" agreed Aida. \"Kayden is full of it.\"\n\nKayden refrained from responding to the twins. They were making their way towards the door, presumably off to lunch, and she was more than happy for them to leave before they soured her good mood. Their departure sparked a rapid exodus, as the rest of her roommates also headed for the exit, while she remained seated on the edge of her bed.\n\n\"Aren't you going to lunch?\" said Yanina, standing in the open doorway, looking back at Kayden.\n\n\"I'm waiting for Neryssa.\"\n\n\"Suit yourself,\" Yanina replied. \"And for what it's worth... I believe you when you say you went to Temis Rulan. The rumours about you being Master Fay's favourite apprentice are far too numerous not to be true.\" With that, she departed, leaving Kayden alone in the dorm.\n\nWhile awaiting Neryssa's arrival, her thoughts drifted as she stared blankly at her booted feet. It wasn't for long, but as she was daydreaming she failed to notice when Neryssa walked into the room." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I heard you were back.\"\n\nNeryssa's voice snapped her out of her reverie. She looked up to see her ambling towards her.\n\n\"Yes, a short while ago,\" she stated, rising to her feet to greet her would-be new friend. She positively beamed as Neryssa halted beside the bed.\n\nA frown wrinkled Neryssa's brow.\n\n\"What's the matter?\" she asked, staring at Kayden with concern in her eyes.\n\n\"Nothing!\" she replied, confused by the question. \"Why?\"\n\n\"You're smiling,\" said Neryssa, as though it was the strangest thing she'd ever witnessed. \"I've never seen-\"\n\n\"You've never seen me smiling before,\" Kayden interrupted. It was the second time that day someone had made this claim. \"Oh, don't you start,\" she added, in mock exasperation. \"I am more than capable of smiling when I want to. These lips can do more than just smirk, you know.\"\n\n\"Sorry I spoke,\" said Neryssa, raising her hands in mock surrender while returning Kayden's smile. \"So, what exactly are we smiling about? Shouldn't you be on your way to Temis Rulan?\"\n\n\"Been there; done that!\"\n\nThe mirthful look on Neryssa's face gave way to disbelief upon realising Kayden wasn't being flippant. \"How is that possible? You've only been gone a day.\"\n\n\"As much as I'd love to tell you, I've been forbidden from talking about my journey to Temis Rulan. However, I can tell you why I'm smiling.\" She savoured the expectant look on her roommate's face. \"I'm smiling because I'm pleased to see you. And, there's something I'd like to discuss with you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well then, why don't we talk about whatever it is over lunch?\"\n\n\"I was hoping we could talk alone-the mess hall isn't really conducive to that.\"\n\nThe words seemed to pique Neryssa's interest. She raised a single finger at Kayden.\n\n\"Hold that thought,\" she said, then stepped away from Kayden's bed, to cross the room to the trunk at the foot of her own bed. She opened it and reached inside, pulling out a thick blanket. Turning to face Kayden, once more, she said, \"How about we grab some food from the mess hall, go to the playing fields, and eat our lunch outdoors? It's a lovely day for it.\"\n\n\"Sounds good tome,\" replied Kayden, crossing the room to join Neryssa at her trunk.\n\nClosing the trunk, Neryssa slung the blanket upon her shoulder. \"So, what is this topic of conversation requiring us to be alone?\"\n\n\"Well...\" Kayden hesitated briefly, trying to think of an appropriate way to broach the matter without sounding desperate. \"Um...\"\n\n\"Well?\" Neryssa prompted.\n\nKayden decided to just go for it-lay her cards on the table.\n\n\"Neryssa, I realise you have made many friends on campus during your seven years here,\" she began, \"but I haven't been quite so successful in that regard. As things presently stand, there is only one person on campus whom I can call my friend. I would really like to double that number. So, is it possible that you and I could befriends?\"\n\nThere was an expectant silence between the pair.\n\n\"I would like that,\" said Neryssa, sounding solemn as she held Kayden's gaze. \"Very much.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden held her handout to her fellow apprentice. \"Friends?\"\n\nWith a smile, Neryssa clasped Kayden's forearm. \"Friends!\" she replied.\n\nFay returned to her office after checking in with Isko-letting him know she was back, and hearing his brief account of how he had managed during her absence. As expected, nothing of consequence had transpired so she was back in her office standing in front of the wall-mounted mirror. Her reflection no longer appeared in the glass, having been replaced by swirling lavender mists, indicating she was waiting for her transmission to be answered. The scheduled meeting of the Order's ruling body, to discuss the allegations she had brought against Turan Kodi, should have concluded sometime ago, so Ari should be available to respond to her communication.\n\nShe didn't have to wait long. The swirling mists in the mirror gradually dissipated to reveal Ari Shinadu standing in the Council chamber.\n\n\"Greetings.\" She was pleasantly surprised it was Ari who answered her call. \"I hope I'm not interrupting. Are you able to talk?\"\n\n\"Yes. The Council meeting concluded awhile ago. I've been lounging around the chamber for an hour or so waiting for you to call-Idelle said that you would.\"\n\nShe briefly wondered how Idelle could have known. One of these days she would have to ask the Sister where her awareness of things not yet come to pass came from.\n\n\"So, what can I do for you, old friend?\" continued Ari.\n\n\"Your trip to Astana, tomorrow,\" she began, \"I now know it's the murder of Kayden's mother you wish to bring up with the authorities there.\"\n\n\"Ah, so she told you, did she? I thought she would.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes, she did, the poor thing,\" Fay sympathised. \"Knowing the truth has certainly made her attitude and behaviour more understandable.\" She shook her head. \"What a terrible thing to have witnessed her mother beaten to death, at such a tender age. And if that wasn't bad enough, to subsequently be denied justice.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" Ari agreed, before adding. \"So, I'm guessing you wish to hear my plans for tomorrow?\"\n\n\"Unnecessary, I trust your judgement. But I would appreciate being kept abreast of developments. I would love to be able to tell Kayden that justice has been done for her mother.\"\n\n\"Consider it done,\" said Ari. Then he smiled at her. \"So, can I assume your relationship with Kayden has turned a corner?\"\n\n\"It's early days,\" she replied cautiously. \"But there has been a noticeable change. I am very optimistic about the future, I have high hopes for her.\" At long last she had someone she could impart all her knowledge and skills to. \"I cannot help but wonder how you got through to her last night. Whatever you did seems to have worked.\"\n\nAri smiled broadly. \"I'm afraid you're going to have to spend the rest of your life wondering about that, old friend,\" he said mirthfully.\n\n\"Fair enough.\" She looked quizzically at him fora moment. \"I have never been truly curious about this before now,\" she said, \"but what exactly is the Sisterhood concealing in the north of the island, Ari?\"\n\n\"The answer to that question is different for everyone who goes there,\" replied Ari, cryptically. \"What Kayden saw was for her eyes only. I've advised her not to speak of it with anyone else.\" He was silent fora moment before smiling again. \"However, what I can tell you,\" he continued, \"is that anything and everything Kayden goes onto accomplish with her life, henceforth, will be thanks to you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fay wasn't sure she could agree with that particular assertion, though she appreciated the sentiment. Nonetheless, she smiled, offering no response.\n\n\"Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?\" Ari prompted.\n\nShe inquired about the outcome of the meeting to discuss Turan Kodi's alleged misconduct. Ari informed her that he was to be recalled from Yaristana to stand before the Council and submit to having his memory examined. If he was found to be guilty of abusing his power to rape numerous women, as Fay suspected, in addition to the attempted assault on Kayden, he would face the full consequences of his actions.\n\n\"I'm pleased to hear it. That's everything I needed to know,\" she replied. \"But before I let you return to your duties I just wanted to thank you. I was afraid we would lose Kayden, yet somehow you've managed to set my mind at ease. Now I can focus on helping her to fulfil her undoubted potential. She will be a tremendous asset for the Order; she's surely destined for great things.\"\n\nSitting cross-legged upon the thick blanket she and Neryssa had laid out on the grassy playing fields on the eastern outskirts of the campus, Kayden and her roommate sat across from each other with two trays of food from the mess hall placed in between them. Dotted around the playing fields were a smattering of other apprentices who'd had the same idea to have their lunches outdoors-none close enough to eavesdrop or interrupt while they conversed as they ate.\n\nThe pair took advantage of the one hour lunch break to solidify their new friendship by getting to know each other better. They agreed to narrate each other's life story prior to arriving at Antaris campus as apprentices of the Order, with Kayden going first. She spent the best part of half an hour chronicling her childhood in Astana, and the circumstances that eventually led her to reside hundreds of miles away in the Kingdom of Mirtana-via the Kingdom of Lirantana. She briefly touched upon her mother dying when she was eleven years old, though she didn't go into detail; she didn't wish to elicit undue sympathy from Neryssa." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Wow! Kayden, someone could write an adventure novel based on your childhood,\" Neryssa said when the narration was completed. \"My childhood was dreadfully boring by comparison.\"\n\nKayden quickly discovered Neryssa wasn't exaggerating in the slightest. As she listened to her friend's story, she couldn't believe just how boring life in a small farming town in the southeast of Mirtana could be. Yet, inexplicably, she found herself envious of the dull, mundane, uneventful existence Neryssa had lived prior to the manifestation of her Zarantar.\n\n\"Finally!\" she said, in mock exasperation when her roommate's tale came to an end. \"I was losing the will to live, here.\" She immediately flashed abroad grin to make it known she was joking.\n\n\"Hey!\" Neryssa plucked an olive from her plate and tossed it playfully at her.\n\nShe swayed out of the way before invoking Yuksaydan to lift an olive from her own plate and send it hurtling at Neryssa, striking heron the nose. Both young women began laughing heartily in response. When their laughter subsided, Kayden noticed Neryssa staring at her curiously.\n\n\"Kayden, I hope you don't mind my saying so,\" began Neryssa. \"There's something different about you since you came back. You've changed. I can't exactly put my finger on it but you look less...\" She trailed off, clearly searching for the appropriate word.\n\n\"Burdened?\" Kayden offered. It was the word Master Fay had used.\n\n\"I was thinking tortured, but burdened is certainly an apt description,\" Neryssa agreed. \"So, why is that? What's changed?\"\n\n\"Well, I can't really tell you, except to say the time away did me a world of good.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So it seems,\" concurred Neryssa, again. \"I'm glad. It's good to see you smiling fora change-you have a beautiful smile.\"\n\nKayden looked down at her almost finished lunch, feeling embarrassed. It was the second time that day someone complimented her smile. Glancing backup at Neryssa, she said, \"I will always have a smile for my friends.\"\n\n\"Which reminds me!\" Neryssa's face made plain that something had just occurred to her. \"Earlier, you said there was only one other person on campus you could calla friend.\"\n\n\"That's right.\"\n\n\"Well...?\" coaxed Neryssa. \"Don't leave me in suspense, who is it?\"\n\n\"Master Fay.\"\n\nFrom the wide-eyed look of disbelief on Neryssa's face, Kayden had to assume her newest friend hadn't anticipated her answer. \"Is that really so hard to believe?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yes... almost as unlikely as you calling her Master,\" said the incredulous apprentice. \"When did this start? I've never heard you refer to her as-\"\n\n\"Yeah, yeah, yeah!\" interrupted Kayden. \"You've never heard me call her Master. I call her'the administrator'or'Administrator Annis'or\" that woman'. Someone already mentioned that tome today.\"\n\nWhile Neryssa silently scrutinised her, she started to wonder if her roommate was deciding whether or not to believe the claim.\n\n\"This happened while the two of you were away?\" queried Neryssa.\n\nKayden nodded with a smile.\n\n\"Then Master Fay is truly a miracle worker, in that case-to breach your impenetrable defences in just a single day.\" There was nothing facetious about the way Neryssa spoke. \"She is a remarkable woman.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kayden couldn't argue with that. \"More than you know,\" she replied.\n\nThe expression on Neryssa's face shifted again; a half smile slowly curled her lips. \"Perhaps I shouldn't be surprised by a friendship between the two of you. It actually makes a lot of sense now I that think about it,\" she said. \"Clearly, Master Fay sees something in you: a kindred spirit maybe. Someone capable of being her equal. She is a legend of the Order, and someday soon, you will join her, by becoming a legend of the Order, too.\"\n\nShe didn't quite know what to say to that, so she quietly resumed eating. It was obvious from Neryssa's tone, she wasn't engaging in flattery; she genuinely believed what she said. As for whether or not her words were true...\n\nOnly time would tell." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "As the author's assistant, please continue the story.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, objectivism\nAuthor: Terry Goodkind\nTitle: Faith of the Fallen\nChapter: 44" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It's your duty,\" Nicci called to the closed door. \"You've no right to turn us away.\" No answer came. \"We're going to report you.\"\n\nThe door opened a crack again. The eye glared outwith menace.\n\n\"Has he a job?\"\n\n\"No, but-\"\n\n\"You go away. The both of your I'll report you!\"\n\n\"For what, might I ask?\"\n\n\"Look, lady, I got a room, but I got to keep it for people at the top of the list.\"\n\n\"How do you know we're not at the top of the list?\"\n\n\"Because if you were you would have said so first off and showed me the approval you got with a seal on it. People at the head of the list have been waiting along time fora place. You're no better than a thief, trying to take the place of a good citizen who's followed the law. Now, go away, or I will take down your names for the lodging inspector.\"\n\nThe door slammed shut again. The threat of having their names taken down appeared to take some of the fight out of Nicci. She huffed a sigh as they walked away, the bowed floor creaking and groaning underfoot. At least they had been able to get in out of the rain fora brief time.\n\n\"We will have to keep looking,\" she told him. \"If you had a job, first, it would probably help. Maybe tomorrow you can look fora job while I keep looking fora room.\"\n\nOut in the cold rain once more, they crossed the muddy street to the cobbled walkway on the other side. There were yet more places to check, though Richard didn't holdout any hope of getting a room. They'd had doors shut in their faces more times than he could count. Nicci wanted a room, though, so they kept looking." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The weather was unusually cold for this far south in the Old World, Nicci had told him. People said the cold spell and rain would soon pass. A few days before it had been muggy and warm, so Richard had no reason to doubt their judgment. It was disorienting for him to see woods and fields of lush green vegetation in the dead of winter. There were some trees with limbs bare for the season, but most were in full leaf.\n\nAs far south as they were in the Old World, it never got cold enough for water to freeze. People only blinked dumbly when he spoke of snow. When Richard explained snow as flakes of frozen whitewater that fell from the sky and covered the ground with a cottony blanket, some people turned huffy, thinking he was making a joke at their expense.\n\nHe knew that back home winter would be raging. Despite the turmoil around him, Richard felt an inner tranquillity knowing that Kahlan was most likely to be warm and snug in the house he had built; in that light, nothing in his new life was of enough importance to distress him. She had food to eat, firewood to keep her warm, and Cara for company. For now, she was safe. Winter was wearing on and in spring she would be able to leave, but, for now, Richard was confident that she was safe. That, and his thoughts and memories of her, were his only solace.\n\nPeople without rooms huddled in the alleyways, using whatever scrap of solid material they could find to prop up over themselves fora roof. Walls were fashioned from sodden blankets. He supposed that he and Nicci could continue to do the same, but he feared Nicci falling ill in the cold and wet-feared that then Kahlan, too, would fall ill." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nicci checked the paper she carried. \"These places on this register they gave us are all supposed to be available for people newly arrived-not just for people on a list. They need workers; they should be more diligent in seeing to it that places are available. Do you see, Richard? Do you see how hard it is for ordinary people to get along in life?\"\n\nRichard, hands shoved in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the wind and rain, asked, \"So, how do we get on a list?\"\n\n\"We will have to go to a lodging office and request a room. They can put us on a housing list.\"\n\nIt sounded simple, but matters were proving far more complex than they sounded.\n\n\"If there aren't enough rooms, how will being on a list get us a place to stay?\"\n\n\"People die all the time.\"\n\n\"There's work here, that's why we came-that's why everyone else has come. I'll work hard and then we can afford to pay more. We still have a little money. We just need to find a place that wants to rent a room for the right price-without all this list foolishness.\"\n\n\"Really, Richard, are you that inhumane? How would those less fortunate ever get rooms, then? The Order sets the prices to stop profiteers. They make sure there is no favoritism. That makes it fair for all. We just need to get on a list fora room, and then everything will be fine.\"\n\nWatching the glistening cobbles before him as he walked, Richard wondered how long they would be without a place until their name worked its way to the top of a list. It looked to him as if a lot of people would need to die before his and Nicci's names came up fora room-with more yet waiting in turn for them to die." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He stepped first to one side and then the other to avoid bumping into the river of people swirling past, making their way in the opposite direction while trying to stay out of the mud of the street." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He considered again staying outside the city-a lot of people did that. But there were outlaws and desperate people aplenty who preyed on those who were forced to stay out in the open where there were no city guards. Were Nicci not opposed to the idea, Richard would have found a place farther out and built a shelter, perhaps with some other people so that they could together discourage trouble.\n\nNicci wasn't interested in the idea. Nicci wanted to be in the city. Multitudes came to the city looking fora better life. There were lists to get on, and lines to wait into see official people. You had a better chance of doing those things if you had a room in the city, she said.\n\nIt was getting late in the day. The line at the bakery was out the door and partway down the block.\n\n\"Why are all these people inline?\" Richard whispered to Nicci. It was the same everyday when they went to buy bread.\n\nShe shrugged. \"I guess there aren't enough bakeries.\"\n\n\"Seems like with all the customers, more people would want to open bakeries.\"\n\nNicci leaned close, a scolding scowl darkening her brow. \"The world isn't as simple as you would like it to be, Richard. It used to be that way in the Old World. Man's evil nature was allowed to flourish. People set their own prices for goodswith greed being their only interest, not the good of their fellowman. Only the wellto-do could afford to buy bread. Now, the Order sees to it that everyone gets needed goods fora fair price. The Order cares about everyone, not just those with unfair advantages.\"\n\nShe always seemed so impassioned when she spoke about the evil nature of people. Richard wondered why a Sister of the Dark would care about evil, but he didn't bother to ask." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The line wasn't moving very fast. The woman in front of him, suspicious of their whispering, scowled back over her shoulder.\n\nRichard met her glare with abroad smile.\n\n\"Good afternoon, ma'am.\" Her somber scowl faltered in the light of his beaming grin. \"We're new in town\"-he gestured behind-\"my wife and I. I'm looking for work. We need a room, though. Would you know how a young couple, strangers to the city, could go about getting a room?\"\n\nShe half turned, holding her canvas bag in both hands, letting it pull her arms straight as she leaned her shoulders against the wall. Her bag held only a yellow wedge of cheese. Richard's smile and his friendly conversational tone-artificial though they were-were apparently so out of the ordinary that she seemed unable to maintain her gruff demeanor.\n\n\"You have to have a job if you hope to get a room. There aren't enough rooms in the city, what with all the new workers come for the abundance provided by the wisdom of the Order. If you're able-bodied, you need to have work, then they'll put your name on the list.\"\n\nRichard scratched his head and kept smiling as the line slowly shuffled along. \"I'm eager to work.\"\n\n\"Easier to get a room if you can't work,\" the woman confided.\n\n\"But, I thought you just said you had to have a job if you were to have any hope of getting a room.\"\n\n\"That's true, if you're able, like you look to be. Those folks with a greater need, because they can't do for themselves, are rightly entitled to benevolence and to be put higher on the list-like my husband, the poor man. He's afflicted terrible like with consumption.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm so sorry,\" Richard said.\n\nShe nodded with the weight of her burden. \"It's mankind's wretched lotto suffer. Nothing can be done about it, so there's no use trying. Only in the next life will we get our reward. In this life, it's the duty of every person with ability to help those unfortunate souls with needs. In that way the able earn their reward in the next life.\"\n\nRichard didn't argue. She shook a finger at him.\n\n\"Those who can work owe it to those who can't to do their best for the good of all.\n\n\"I can work,\" Richard assured her. \"We're from... a little place. We're simple folks-from farming stock. We don't know much about how to go about things like getting work in the city.\"\n\n\"The Order has brought the people a great abundance of work,\" a man behind Nicci said, drawing Richard's attention. The man's oiled canvas coat was buttoned tight at his throat. His big brown eyes blinked slowly, like a cow as it chewed its cud. The way his jaw wobbled sideways as he spoke only added to the impression. \"The Order welcomes all workers to our struggle, but you must be mindful of the needs of others-as the Creator Himself wishes-and go about getting work in the proper fashion.\"\n\nRichard, his stomach grumbling with hunger, listened as the man explained. \"You first need to belong to a citizen workers'group; they protect the rights of citizens of the Order. You'll have to go before a review assembly for approval to join the workers'group, and a fitness panel to hear from a spokesman from the workers\" citizen group who can vouch for you. You must do this before you can go fora job.\"\n\n\"Why can't I just go to a place and show myself? Why can't they hire me, if I fit their needs?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Just because you're from the country, that doesn't mean you shouldn't be mindful of contributing toward the greater good of the Order.\"\n\n\"Of course not,\" Richard said. \"I've always worked for myself, through farming to bring food to my fellowman, as is our duty. I don't know how businesses do things.\"\n\nThe big brown eyes paused their blinking. The man peered suspiciously fora moment, then his eyes finally went moony again. His jaw resumed its wobbling as he chewed his words.\n\n\"It's the primary responsibility of business to be sensitive to the needs of the people, to contribute to the public welfare, to be equitable. The review board helps see to this. There is much more involved than the narrow goals of businesses.\"\n\n\"I see,\" Richard said. \"Well, I'd be grateful if you could tell me how to go about it properly.\" He glanced briefly at Nicci. \"I want to be a good citizen and do things right.\"\n\nBy the man's pride in the explanation, and the way his big eyes blinked faster as he laid it all out, Richard expected that the man was somehow involved in the labyrinthine process. Richard didn't ask how you got a spokesman from the citizen workers' group to vouch for you. The line inched forward as the man explained the finer details of different sorts of work, what each required, and how it was all for the benefit of those living within the Order and under the grace of the Creator.\n\nAshe droned on, delivering his information with smug satisfaction, Nicci watched Richard discreetly, and without comment, as he listened to the procedures. She looked as if she was expecting him to suddenly turn from polite to deadly. Richard knew there could be no point to a battle with this man, so he remained polite." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It turned out that the man, named Mr. Gudgeons, seemed to know the most about the quarry workers. Since Richard knew little about quarries, he passed the time as they stood inline by asking a few questions that pleased Mr. Gudgeons to answer-at great length.\n\nThe store ran out of bread and closed before they got any. The line of people dissolved into the downpour, mumbling to one another as they went about their woeful lot in life. Richard thanked the woman and Mr. Gudgeons before he and Nicci moved on.\n\nRichard paused at across street while Nicci studied her paper with the list of rooms. All around, the blocky shapes of buildings rose out of the gloom. Red paint on the side of one brick building was so faded that it left the figure painted there looking like a blushing ghost. The faded whitewash of words beneath the vanishing man were no longer legible.\n\nPassing men gazed at Nicci in her wet clinging clothes, never seeing her face. Her hair was plastered to her skull, her jaw quivered, and her hands trembled, yet she didn't complain about the cold, as did everyone else. They had been told that they couldn't get another list, with any new rooms that might have recently become available, until the next day, so Nicci was trying to keep this one whole, but in the rain it was a losing battle.\n\nMangy horses slogged through the mud, some of the wagons they pulled squeaking and groaning under the weight of a load. Only the main thoroughfares, like the one they were on, were wide enough to allow teams of horses and full-size wagons to easily pass in both directions. Some streets were only wide enough for wagons to go in one direction. Some of those, with no room to pull aside, were choked off by broken-down wagons. Richard saw a dead horse in one narrow street, the rotting animal, attended by a cloud of flies, still hitched to its wagon as it awaited someone to come haul it away. The blocked streets only added to the congestion of the others. Some streets, were wide enough only for handcarts. In many of the narrower passageways only foot traffic could fit." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The smell of garbage and the stench of streets that also functioned as open sewers had been enough to gag Richard for the first week until he'd become numb to it.\n\nThe alleyways where he and Nicci had slept were the worst. The rain only served to flush the filth out of every hole and carry it out into the open, but at least as long as he was standing it washed off some of the dirt.\n\nAll the cities Richard had seen after they'd entered the Old World and traveled south from Tanimura were similar to this one, all suffering under grinding poverty and inhuman conditions. Everything seemed caught in a timeless trap, a morass of rot, as if the cities had once been vibrant with life and people striving to fulfill dreams, had once been places of hope and ambition, but somewhere the dreams had disintegrated into a gray pall of stagnation and decay. No one seemed to much care. Everyone seemed in a daze, biding their time, waiting for their lot in life to improve without even having a concept of the shape of that better life or how it might come to be. They existed on disembodied faith, confident only that the afterlife would be perfect.\n\nThe cities Richard had seen were startlingly similar to what Richard envisioned the future held for the New World under the yoke of the Order.\n\nThis place, though, was the single largest city Richard had ever seen. He would never have believed the size of it had he not seen it himself. Dilapidated buildings entangled by streets teeming with people sprawled over a sweep of low hills, across abroad bottomland, for miles along the convergence of two rivers. Squat ramshackle huts built haphazardly of wattle and daub, scraps of wood, or salvaged mud and straw bricks beset the city's core to a great distance out into the surrounding land, like fetid scum surrounding a rotting login a stagnant pond." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was the city of Altur'Rang-the namesake of the land which was now the heart of the Old World and the Imperial Order-the home city of Emperor Jagang.\n\nWhen they had first entered the Old World on their way south toward Altur'Rang, Richard and Nicci had stopped at the northernmost large city in the Old World,\"Ianimura, where the Palace of the Prophets had once stood. Tanimura, one of the last places in the Old World to fall under the rule of the Imperial Order, was a grand place, with wide boulevards lined with trees and ornate buildings soaring several stories high, faced with columns and arches and windows that let in the light. Tanimura, as large as it was, turned out to be but an outpost of the Old World, far enough away that the rot was only now reaching it.\n\nFora span of a little over a month, Richard had found work in Tanimura as a mason's tender, one of a dozen, hauling stone and mixing mortar fora squat, unattractive building. The masons had simple huts the workers and their families lived in, so Nicci had shelter. The master came to trust Richard to keep up with his masons. When one of the stonecutters fell sick, Richard was asked to stand in at squaring the blocks of granite for the masons.\n\nHe found holding a chisel and mallet in his hands, cutting stone-shaping it to his will-a revelation. In someways, it was like carving wood... but somehow much more.\n\nFrom time to time, the master stood with fists on his hips, watching Richard chisel square edges into the hard granite. Occasionally, in a gruff voice, he would make minor corrections to Richard's method. After a time, as the master saw that Richard took to the job and could cut a block square and true, he no longer bothered watching. Before long Richard's blocks were chosen first by the masons as cornerstones." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Other stonecutters arrived to do more demanding work-the adornments. When they had first shown up, Richard had been eager to see their work. They cut into the face of blocks, meant to surround the entrance, a large flame representing the Light of the Creator. Below that, they carved a crowd of cowering people.\n\nRichard had seen a number of stone carvings in the various places he had been, from the Confessors'Palace in Aydindril to the People's Palace in D'Hara, but he had never seen anything like the figures he saw being cut on that building in Tanimura. They were not graceful, or grand, or inspiring, but just the opposite. They were distorted, thick-limbed, cringing figures recoiling below the Light. Richard was told by one of the artisans that this was the only proper representation of mankind-profane, hideous, sinful. Richard kept his mind on cutting square stones.\n\nWhen the stonework to the Order's headquarters building was finished, the job ended. The carpenters didn't need anymore help. The artisans said they could use some assistance carving the anguish of mankind and offered Richard the work. He declined, telling them that he had no ability for carving.\n\nBesides, Nicci had been eager to move on; Tanimura had only been a place to earn some money to buy provisions for the long journey ahead of them. Richard was glad to be away from the depressing sight of the carving going on.\n\nAlong the way southeast to Altur'Rang, in the cities they passed through, Richard saw many carvings on buildings, and many more freestanding in public squares, or in front of entrances. They depicted horrors: people being whipped by a grinning Keeper of the underworld; people stabbing out their own eyes; suffering people twisted, deformed, and crippled; people like packs of dogs, running on all fours, attacking women and children; people reduced to walking skeletons or covered in sores; woeful people throwing themselves into graves. Inmost such scenes the pitiful people were watched over by the Light of the all-perfect Creator represented by the flame." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Old World was a celebration of misery.\n\nAlong the way south, they had stopped in a number of cities when Richard could find menial work temporary enough not to require waiting on lists. He and Nicci went for stretches eating cabbage soup that was mostly water. Sometimes they had rice or lentils or buckwheat mush, and, on occasion, the luxury of salt pork. Sometimes, Richard was able to catch fish, birds, or the odd hare. Living off the land in the Old World, though, was difficult. A lot of other people had the same idea. They both had gotten thinner on their long march. Richard began to understand the carvings of the skeletal people.\n\nNicci had set their destination, but dictated little else, leaving most decisions to him, complying without complaint. Week in and week out, they walked, occasionally paying a few copper pennies to ride in wagons headed their way. They crossed rivers straddled by cities large enough to have numbers of stone bridges, and went through town after town. There were vast fields of wheat, millet, sunflower, and any number of other crops, though much of the land lay fallow. They saw flocks of sheep and herds of cattle.\n\nFarmers sold the travelers goat cheese and milk. Ever since the gift had awakened in him, Richard was able to eat meat only when not doing any fighting. He thought it might be part of the requirement to balance his need to sometimes take life. Since he wasn't doing any fighting, he could eat meat without it making him sick. Unfortunately, they could rarely afford meat. Cheese, which he had once loved, he could hardly stomach since his gift had come to life in him. Unfortunately, it was often eat cheese, or starve.\n\nBut it was the size of the Old World, and in particular its population, that most unsettled him. Richard had naively thought that the New and the Old Worlds must be somewhat alike. They were not. The New World was but a flea on the back of the Old." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "From time to time on their journey south, vast columns of men at arms moved past them on their way north to the Midlands. Several times, it had taken days for all the soldiers to march past. Whenever he saw the rank upon rank of troops, he felt a wave of relief that Kahlan was trapped in their mountain home. He would hate to think of her fighting in an army facing as many men as he saw going to the war.\n\nBy spring, when she could finally get out of the mountain home, and all those Imperial Order troops could truly begin their siege of the New World, whatever resistance the D'Haran Empire put up would be crushed. Richard hoped General Reibisch chose not to go up against the Order. He hated to think of all those brave men being slaughtered under the weight of the coming onslaught.\n\nAtone small city, Nicci had gone to a stream to wash their clothes while Richard worked the day mucking out stalls at a large stable. A number of officials had come to town and there were more horses than the stablemaster could handle. Richard had been at the right place at the right time to get the job. Not long after the officials arrived and took all the rooms at the inns, a large unit of the Imperial Order troops marched in behind them and setup camp at the city limits.\n\nFortunately, Nicci was on the other side of the city doing their washing. Unfortunately, a squad of men passing through the city, and doing some drinking, decided to accept volunteers. Richard kept his head down as he carried water to the horses, but the sergeant saw him. At the wrong place at the wrong time, Richard was'volunteered\" into the Imperial Order. The new volunteers were quartered in the center of the immense encampment.\n\nThat night, after it was dark and most of the men were asleep, Richard unvolunteered himself. It took him until three hours before sunrise to extract himself from his service to the Imperial Order. Nicci had gone to the stable and found out what had happened to him. Richard found her at their camp, pacing in the darkness. They quickly collected their things and marched south for the rest of the night. They went cross country, since the moon was out, rather than on the roads, in case a patrol came looking for him. From then on, whenever Richard saw soldiers he did his best to become invisible." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In general, though, it wasn't a serious concern. Hordes of youths, lusting after the promise of plunder, were only too eager to join the army. They often had to wait weeks or months to be accepted into training, so many were the numbers joining. Richard had seen crowds of them in the cities, playing games, gambling, drinking, fighting-young men dreaming of the glory of killing the evil foes of the great empire of the Order. They enjoyed the adoration of the populace when they joined the army to go off and fight the frightful wickedness and sin that was said to infect the New World.\n\nRichard was horrified to seethe numbers of people living in the Old World, because it meant that the Order's army already in the New World was hardly a drain on the populace-and only the beginning. He had thought that perhaps the Order might lose their enthusiasm fora war conducted so far from their homeland, or that the people of the Old World would tire of the hardship necessary to conduct such a war. He now knew that thought had been but a feeble daydream.\n\nIt didn't take a wizard, or a prophet, to know that the armies the New World could raise, even given wildly optimistic conditions, had no hope whatsoever of prevailing against the millions upon millions of soldiers Richard had seen pouring north, to say nothing of the ones he hadn't seen who would betaking other routes. The Midlands was doomed.\n\nEver since the people of Anderith chose the Order over freedom, he had known in his heart that the New World was going to fall to the Order. He felt no satisfaction in realizing how right he had been. Seeing the size of the enemy, he realized that freedom was lost, and resisting the Order was but suicide.\n\nThe course of events seemed irrevocable, the world lost to the Order. The future for him and Kahlan seemed no less hopeless." }, { "from": "human", "value": "By far the strangest place he and Nicci had visited in their journey southeast, a place she never spoke of afterward, had been less than a week south of Tanimura." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard had still been in a dismal mood thinking about the carvings he had seen, when Nicci took an old, seldom-used track off the main road. It led back toward the hills, to a rather small city beside a quiet river.\n\nMost of the businesses had been abandoned. The wind, at will, carried dust through the broken windows of warehouses. Many of the homes had fallen to ruin, their roofs caved in, weeds and vines doing their best to bring down crooked walls. Only the homes on the outskirts were still occupied, mostly by people raising animals and farming the surrounding land.\n\nOn the northern side of the city, one small store remained to sell staples to surrounding farmers. There was also a leather shop, a fortune-teller, and a lonely inn. In the center of town stood the bones of buildings, long since picked clean by scavengers. Several of the buildings still stood, but most had long ago collapsed. Richard and Nicci walked through the center of town watched only by a fitful wind.\n\nAt the southern edge, they arrived at the remains of what had once been a large brick building. Without a word, Nicci turned off the road and marched deliberately into the forlorn site. The wood beams and roof had been consumed by fire. A thick mat of weeds and brush were devouring the wood floor. The brick walls were all that was left, really, and they were mostly fallen to rubble, with only a portion of the east wall still tall enough to contain alone window frame.\n\nThe wind ruffled Nicci's sunlit hair as she looked down the length of the skeletal remains of the building. Her arms languid at her sides, her back not quite as straight as it usually was, she stood vulnerable where once a roof would have sheltered her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For nearly an hour, she was lost among the ghosts.\n\nRichard stood off to the side, leaning a hip against the charred remains of part of a workbench, one of the only things left inside the brick frame.\n\n\"Do you know this place?\" he finally asked her.\n\nShe blinked at his question. She stared into his eyes fora longtime, as if he, too, were a ghost. She stepped close to him then, her blue eyes finally looking away to let her fingers reminisce as they glided lightly over the remains of the workbench.\n\n\"I grew up in this town,\" she answered in a distant voice.\n\n\"Oh.\" Richard gestured around them. \"And this place?\"\n\n\"They made armor here,\" she whispered.\n\nHe couldn't imagine why she would want to see such a place. \"Armor?\"\n\n\"The best armor in all the land. Double-proofed standard. Kings and noblemen came hereto buy armor.\"\n\nRichard gazed around at the ruins of the place, wondering what more there must be to the story.\n\n\"Did you know the man who made the armor?\"\n\nHer blue eyes seeing ghosts again, she shook her head.\n\n\"No,\" she whispered. \"I'm so sorry, but I never knew him.\"\n\nA tear ran down her cheek to drip off her smooth jaw. She seemed very much a child at that moment, alone in the world, and frightened.\n\nHad he not known what he knew about her, Richard would have put his arms around this forlorn frail child and comforted her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nicci was tired, cold, and impatient. She wanted a room.\n\nHer purpose in guiding Richard to the center of the empire in Altur'Rang was to bring him face-toface with the righteous cause of the Order. She knew Richard to be a man of profound moral integrity, and she wanted to see how he would react when confronted by the undeniable virtue of his enemy's intentions.\n\nShe wanted Richard to learn how difficult it was for ordinary people to live, to get along in the world. She was curious as to how he would fare in the same circumstances-she wanted to throw him into the fire and see how he reacted to the heat, as it were. She had expected him to be agitated and frustrated by now. He remained cool and unruffled.\n\nShe thought he would be furious at learning what he had to do to get a job. He was not. He had listened to that Mr. Gudgeons fellow explaining the near impossible task that faced anyone wanting work. Nicci had expected him to punch the pompous official; instead, Richard had cheerfully thanked him. It was as if the things he so naively stood for, so selfishly defended when she had known him before, no longer mattered to him.\n\nAt the Palace of the Prophets when she had been his teacher, every time she thought she knew how he would react, he did something she would never have anticipated. He did that now, too, but in a subtly different way. What before had been, in a manner of speaking, unorganized youthful rebellion had turned to the dangerous scrutiny of a predator. Only the chains around his heart kept him from turning his claws on her.\n\nWhen Nicci had first captured Richard, she had briefly seen, standing in the window of his house, a carving of a proud woman. Nicci had known, assure as she knew night followed day, that Richard had carved it; it betrayed his unique vision, which she recognized. The statue was tangible evidence of a hidden side to his gift; it was a form of balance to his ability for war, yet she detected no magic in it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Knowing that Richard had carved it, Nicci expected that he would have been interested in the carving job offered him back in Tanimura. He turned it down. He became moody and hardly spoke for several days afterward.\n\nWhenever they went through anew city, she saw him taking in the statues and relief carvings. Since he, too, carved, she expected him to find such creations fascinating. He did not. She couldn't understand it. None were as finely executed as what he had carved, to be sure, but still, they were carvings and she thought he would beat least interested in them. She was baffled by his grim mood whenever he saw them.\n\nOnetime, she had taken the two of them out of their way for no reason but to show him a famous city square and the heroic work of art proudly displayed there. It washer thought to bring him a bit of cheer at seeing such a widely heralded work. He was not cheered. Surprised, she had asked him why he appeared to so dislike the sculpture, called Tormented Vision.\n\n\"It's death,\" he had said with distant revulsion as he turned away from the widely worshiped work.\n\nIt was a grand scene of a group of men, some gouging out their eyes after having seen the perfect Light of the Creator. Other of the men at the base of the statue, who'd not blinded themselves, were being mauled by underworld beasts. The Keeper's minions shrank from the blinded men wailing at what they had seen before taking their own sight.\n\n\"No,\" Nicci said, trying not to laugh and thereby humiliate him for his unenlightened view. She sought instead to gently rectify his perception of the famous work by explaining it to him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It's a portrayal of the unworthy nature of mankind. It shows men who have just witnessed His perfect Light, and in so doing have thus been able to seethe hopeless nature of man's depravity. That they would cutout their own eyes shows how perfect the Creator is that they could no longer bear to look upon themselves.\n\n\"These men in the statue are heroes for showing us that we must not arrogantly endeavor to rise above our corrupt essence, for that would be sinfully comparing ourselves to the Creator. It shows that we are but faceless, insignificant parts of a greater whole of mankind, which He created, and thus no single life can hold any importance. This work teaches us that only the society as a whole can be worthwhile. Those at the bottom, here, who failed to join in with their fellowman and blind themselves, are suffering their grim eternal fate at the Keeper's hands.\n\n\"Do you see, now? It honors mankind as the flawed creature he is, in order that we may see that each of us must devote ourselves to the betterment of our fellowman because that is our only means of doing good and honoring the Creator's creation-us. So, you see, it's not about death at all, but about the true nature of life.\"\n\nNicci had been taught that the statue was uplifting for the people, since it confirmed everything they knew to be true.\n\nIn the whole of her life, no one had ever given her a look that made her feel smaller than the look Richard gave her.\n\nNicci swallowed in horror at that look in his eyes-it was the complete opposite of that elusive thing she sought from him. Without saying a word, he had made her want nothing so much at that moment as to crawl under a rock and die.\n\nShe couldn't fathom how, but he made her feel unworthy to live. In some bewildering way, that look made her feel as blind as the men in the statue. He hadn't said one word, but it was days before she could bring herself to look him in the eye again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Sometimes, Richard seemed meek when she expected fierceness, and intense when she expected indifference." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She was beginning to wonder if she had been mistaken in thinking there was something special about him.\n\nOnce, she had even given into despair of there really being anything in him worth discovering. Watching him sleep, dejected that she had dared hope to uncover some meaning to life beyond what her mother had taught her, she had sadly resolved that the next day, after visiting the place she had grownup, she would end the whole senseless undertaking and return to Jagang.\n\nAfter they went to her father's business, though, she had seen again that quality in his gray eyes, and knew beyond doubt that she had not been mistaken.\n\nThis dance had only begun.\n\nAs they marched down the dim hallway of a rooming house, she gestured for Richard to stand aside. Nicci wanted this room. She wanted to lie down where it was dry and go to sleep. She resolutely rapped her knuckles on a door that looked as if it might come apart if she wasn't careful.\n\nShe peered down at the register she had and then stuffed it in her pack as she waited for the door to be answered. The lodging house, like all the others they had been to, was supposed to let rooms to those new to the city. The emperor needed workers.\n\nIn her mind, she imagined that this would be the place. She stared at the stain on the sickly green plaster. She imagined seeing the tea-colored stain, in the shape of a horse's rump with its tail flicked up, everyday as she went about her life. She imagined Richard walking past the stain everyday when he went to a job, and every night when he came home. Just like everyone else had to do.\n\nRichard was watching the stairway beyond the door where Nicci again knocked. The stairs faced away. She couldn't understand why he watched all the things he watched, but she didn't discount his instincts. By the look on his face, he wasn't pleased about the shadowed stairway. Being a Sister of the Dark, she was hardly frightened by the simple things that frightened other people. She knocked again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A voice inside told them to go away.\n\n\"We need a room,\" Nicci declared to the door in atone that said she meant to have it. She knocked harder. \"You're on the register. We want the room.\"\n\n\"It's a mistake,\" came the muffled voice from inside. \"No room.\"\n\n\"Now look here,\" Nicci called out heatedly, \"it's getting late-\"\n\nThree youths she hadn't seen sitting on the stairs swaggered around the newel post. The three were without shirts, showing off their muscles as young men were wont to do. All three had knives.\n\n\"Well, well,\" one of the youths said with a cocky grin as his eyes took her in with lewd intent. \"What have we here? Two little drowned rats?\"\n\n\"I like the fancy tail on the little blond rat,\" a second chortled.\n\nRichard seized her arm and without a word shepherded her out the front door, back out into the rain. Nicci dragged her heels, protesting in a whisper the whole way. She couldn't believe that Lord Rahl himself, the Seeker of Truth, and the bringer of death would be intimidated by three men-boys, really.\n\nAs they descended the rickety front stoop, Richard lifted an eyebrow at her while tipping his head close. \"You have no power, remember? We don't want this kind of trouble. I'd not like to get knifed over a room. This fight isn't worth it. Knowing when not to fight is just as important as knowing how.\"\n\nNicci wanted the room, but she finally conceded that Richard was probably right. The three sneering youths slouched at the door and watched, laughing, calling Richard names. So far, they weren't interested in going out in the rain. She had seen young men like them before. This latest crop was no different from any of the others-arrogant, aggressive, and often dangerous. At least they made good soldiers for Jagang's army." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard hurried her along the street. He cut through some of the narrow passageways, taking several turns at random just to be sure they wouldn't be followed.\n\nThe city of Altur'Rang seemed endless. In the overcast and rain, visibility was limited. The haphazard streets and byways were a confusing maze. It had been many years since she had been here last. With all the Order's efforts, the place still had fallen on hard times. She feared to think of what it would have been like had the Order not been hereto help.\n\nWhen they emerged on a wider street, they found shelter under a small overhanging roof along with a small group of others trying to stay out of the rain. Nicci hugged herself against the cold. Richard, along with the others huddled under the roof, watched the occasional wagon making its way past on the muddy street. She didn't know how Richard could keep warm in such weather. She appreciated his warmth, though, when the small crowd pressed her up against him. Richard glanced down at her, seeing her shiver, but he couldn't bring himself to put an arm around her to help keep her warns. She didn't ask.\n\nNicci sighed; the Old World didn't stay cold for long. In another day or two it would again be warm and muggy.\n\nWhen she had been at the crumbled remains of her father's business, just before they left, Richard had looked as if he almost wanted to put his arms around her and comfort her. As much as he hated her, as much as he wanted to getaway from her, he had been moved to sympathy.\n\nStanding in the ruins, Nicci had let the memories wash through her, and had reveled in the exquisite anguish.\n\nRichard's eyes were fixed on something. She followed his gaze and saw that a wagon not far down the street was moving with an odd wiggle. Almost as soon as she noticed it, the wheel broke with aloud crack." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With the strain imposed by the wagon slipping and being twisted in the ruts, the spokes had snapped under the heavy load. The side of the wagon bed dropped with a splash. People on the walkway were splattered with mud. They cursed the two men in the wagon. The four-horse team struggled to a halt as the uneven load broke the axle, causing the good rear wheel to snap its spokes, too. The whole rear of the wagon collapsed into the mud.\n\nThe two men climbed down to assess the damage. The rawboned driver cursed and kicked at the broken wheel lying at a lopsided angle. The other man, shorter and stoutly built, calmly checked the rest of the wagon and its load.\n\nWith a frown of curiosity, Richard nudged Nicci ahead of him as he moved down the street toward the wagon. She went reluctantly, unhappy to be out from under the roof.\n\n\"We have to,\" the husky man said with calm resolve. \"It's only a short distance.\"\n\nThe other cursed again. \"It's not my job, Ishaq, and you know it. I'll not do it!\"\n\nThen Ishaq threw up his hands in a helpless gesture as his headstrong partner went to the front of the wagon and urged the team on, managing to drag the wagon to the side of the road and out of the way of the other wagons that were beginning to backup down the street. Once he had the wagon to the side, he started unhitching the team.\n\nThe man at the back of the wagon turned and peered around at the people watching.\n\n\"I need some help,\" Ishaq called to the sparse crowd.\n\n\"Doing what?\" a nearby man asked.\n\n\"I've got to get this load of iron to the warehouse.\" He stretched his thick neck and pointed. \"Just there-in the brick building with the faded red paint on the side.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How much will you pay?\" the bystander asked.\n\nIshaq was getting frustrated as he glanced over his shoulder and saw his partner leading the horses away. \"I'm not authorized to pay anything, not without approval, but I'm sure that if you came round tomorrow-\"\n\nThe people watching laughed with knowing disgust and went on their way. The man stood in the downpour, ankle deep in mud, alone. He sighed and turned to his wagon, pulling back the tarp to reveal iron bar stock.\n\nRichard stepped out into the street. Nicci wanted to check some more rooms on the list before it got dark. She snatched at his sleeve, but he only gave her a scolding look. She huffed her displeasure but followed anyway as he made his way through the mud to the man struggling to pull along bar from the wagon bed.\n\n\"Ishaq, is it?\" Richard asked.\n\nThe man turned and gave Richard a nod. \"That's right.\"\n\n\"If I help you, Ishaq,\" Richard asked, \"will I really get paid tomorrow? The truth, now.\"\n\nIshaq, a stocky fellow with a curious red hat with a narrow brim all around, finally shook his head in resignation.\n\n\"Well,\" Richard said, \"if I help you get this load into your warehouse, then would you allow me and my wife to sleep in there where we could get out of the rain for the night?\"\n\nThe man scratched his neck. \"I'm not allowed to let anyone in there. What if something happened? What if things came up missing? I'd be out of work\"-he snapped his fingers-\"quick as that.\"\n\n\"Just until tomorrow. I only want to get her out of the rain before she comes down sick. I have no use for iron. Besides, I don't rob people.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The man scratched his neck again as he gazed back at the wagon over his shoulder. He glanced at Nicci. She was shivering and it was not an act. He peered at Richard.\n\n\"Sleeping in the warehouse for one night is not a fair price for lugging all this in there. It will take hours.\"\n\n\"If you agree to it, and I agree to it,\" Richard said over the sound of the rain, \"then it's a fair price. I asked for no more, and I'm willing to do it for that price.\"\n\nThe man stared at Richard as if he might be crazy. He pulled off his red hat and scratched his head of dark hair. He swept his wet hair back and replaced the hat.\n\n\"You would have to clear out when I come first thing in the morning with anew wagon. I could get in trouble-\"\n\n\"I'll not let you get in trouble over me. If I should get caught, I'll say I broke in.\"\n\nThe man thought about it fora moment, looking surprised at the last term Richard had thrown in an effort to close the deal. The man took another look over his shoulder at the load, then nodded his consent.\n\nIshaq hoisted along bar of steel and put his shoulder under it. Richard lifted two and extended his arm forward to steady it, resting the heavy steel on the bunched muscles of his shoulder.\n\n\"Come on,\" he said to Nicci. \"Let's get you inside where you can start to dry out and get warm.\"\n\nShe tried to lift a steel bar to help, but it was beyond her strength. There were times when Nicci missed her power. She could at least feel it through the link to the Mother Confessor. It took more effort, but even at this great of a distance she was still able to maintain the link. She walked beside Richard as they followed the man to the dry room Richard had just won for her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The next day dawned clear. Rainwater still dripped from the eaves, though. The night before, as Richard helped Ishaq lug the load into the warehouse, Nicci had used alight rope Richard had in his pack, stringing it between racks so she could hangup their wet things. By morning, most of their clothes were reasonably dry.\n\nThey'd slept on wooden pallets, the only other choice being the dirt. Everything smelled of iron dust, and was covered with a fine black film. There was nothing in the warehouse to keep them warm, other than a single lantern Ishaq had left them, over which Nicci could at least warm her hands. They slept as best they could in their wet clothes. By morning, those, too, were reasonably dry.\n\nMuch of the night, Nicci hadn't slept, but, by the light of that lantern warning her hands, had watched Richard sleep as she thought about his gray eyes. It had been a shock to see those eyes in her father's business. It brought back a flood of memories.\n\nRichard opened the warehouse door just enough to squeeze through and carried their things out into the breaking dawn. The sky over the city looked as if it were rusting. He left her to watch their things while he went back into lock the door from inside. She could hear him climbing the racks in the warehouse to getup to a window. He had to jump to the ground.\n\nWhen Ishaq finally came up the street with the fresh wagon, Richard and Nicci were sitting on a short wall on the entrance road to the warehouse doors. When the wagon rolled past them into the yard outside the building and came to a halt before the double doors, Nicci saw that the driver who had abandoned Ishaq the night before was at the reins." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The lanky driver set the brake as he eyed them suspiciously.\n\n\"What's this?\" he asked Richard.\n\n\"I'm sorry to bother you,\" Richard said, \"but I just wanted to get here before you opened up so I could inquire if there might be any work available.\"\n\nIshaq glanced at Nicci, seeing that she was dried out. He eyed the locked door and realized Richard had kept his word, and kept him from the possibility of getting in trouble for letting someone sleep in the warehouse.\n\n\"We can't hire people,\" the driver said. \"You have to go to the office and put your name on the list.\"\n\nRichard sighed. \"I see. Well, thank you, gentlemen. I'll give it a try. A good day to you both.\"\n\nNicci had learned to recognize in Richard's voice when he was up to something. He gazed up the street, and then down the street, as if he were lost. He was up to something, now. He seemed to be giving Ishaq an opportunity to offer more than he had paid for the help. Ishaq had let Richard carry twice as much of the load the night before. Richard had done so without a word of protest.\n\nIshaq cleared his throat. \"Hold on there.\" He climbed down from the wagon to unlock the door, but paused before Richard. \"I'm the load master. We need another man. You look to have a strong back.\" Using the toe of his boot, he drew a little map in the mud. \"You go to the office\"-he lifted his thumb over his shoulder'down this street, here, to the third turn, then right, past six more streets.\"He made an X in the mud.\" There's the office. You get your name on the list.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard smiled and bowed his head. \"I'll do that, sir.\"\n\nNicci knew that Richard remembered Ishaq's name, but he was playing like he didn't for the sake of the driver, whom Richard didn't trust, after the man had abandoned his fellow the night before. What Richard didn't understand was that the driver had only done what he was supposed to do. It was not permitted for one man to take the work that belonged to others. That was stealing. The load was the responsibility of the load man, not the driver.\n\n\"You go enlist first in the load workers'group,\" Ishaq told Richard. \"Pay your dues. They have an office in the same building. Then you go put your name on the list for the job. I'm in the citizen workers'group that goes before the review assembly to consider new applicants. You just sit tight and wait outside. When we meet, later on, I'll vouch for you.\"\n\nThe driver leaned out and spat over the far side of the wagon. \"Why you want to go and do that, Ishaq? You don't even know this fellow.\"\n\nIshaq scowled up at the driver. \"Did you see anyone at the hall who was as big as this fellow? We need another loader for the warehouse. We just lost a man and need a replacement. You want me to get stuck with some skinny old man so as I'll have to do all the work?\"\n\nThe driver chuckled. \"Suppose not.\"\n\nIshaq gestured toward Nicci. \"Besides, look at his young wife. She needs some meat on her bones, don't you think? Looks like a nice young couple.\"\n\nThe driver spat over the side of the wagon again. \"I suppose.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ishaq casually flicked a hand at Richard on his way to unlock the door to the warehouse. \"You be there.\"\n\n\"I'll be there.\"\n\nIshaq paused and turned back. \"Almost forgot-what's your name?\"\n\n\"Richard Cypher.\"\n\nIshaq gave him a nod and turned back to the door. \"I'm Ishaq. See you tonight, Richard Cypher. Don't you let me down-you hear? You turnout to be lazy and let me down, and I'll throw your sorry hide in the river with an iron bar tied around your neck.\"\n\n\"I won't let you down, Ishaq.\" Richard smiled. \"I'm a good swimmer, but not that good.\"\n\nAs they trudged though the muddy streets on their way to find some food before they went to the offices to get on the list for work, Richard asked, \"What's wrong?\"\n\nNicci shook her head in disgust. \"Ordinary people don't have your luck, Richard. Ordinary people suffer and struggle while your luck gets you into a job.\"\n\n\"If it was luck,\" Richard asked, \"then how come my back hurts from lugging that load of iron bars into the warehouse?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When Richard had finished unloading the last wagon of iron, he leaned forward and placed his hands on the pile, hanging his head as he panted. The muscles in his arms and shoulders throbbed. It was always easier having two men to handle the bars, one in the wagon, and one on the ground, but the man who was supposed to help with the load had quit several days back, saying he hadn't been treated properly. Richard didn't really miss him all that much; even when the man got up off his backside, his assistance was more trouble than it was worth.\n\nThe light coming in the high windows was fading, leaving the sky in the west a deep purple. Sweat ran down his neck, making trails through the black iron dust. He wished he could jump in a cool mountain lake. That thought, in and of itself, was refreshing. He let his mind go there as he caught his breath.\n\nIshaq came down the aisle with the lantern. \"You work too hard, Richard.\"\n\n\"I thought I was hired to work.\"\n\nIshaq peered at Richard fora moment, one eye catching the harsh yellow light of the lantern he was holding. \"\"Take my advice. You work too hard, it's only going to get you into trouble.\"\n\nRichard had been working at the warehouse for three weeks, unloading wagons and loading others. He'd come to know a number of the other men. He had a good idea of what Ishaq meant.\n\n\"But I'm still worried about trying to swim with an iron bar wrapped around my neck.\"\n\nIshaq gave upon his scowl and grunted a laugh. \"I was just spouting for Jori's sake, that day.\"\n\nJori was the driver who had refused to help unload the wagon when it broke down. Richard yawned. \"I know, Ishaq.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"This isn't no farm, like where you came from." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This is different, living under the ways of the Order. You got to take the needs of others in mind if you hope to get along. It's just the way the world is.\"\n\nRichard caught the thread of caution in Ishaq's voice, and the meaning of the gentle warning.\n\n\"You're right, Ishaq. Thanks. I'll try to remember.\"\n\nIshaq gestured with his lantern toward the door. \"Workers' group meeting tonight. Best be on your way.\"\n\nRichard groaned. \"I don't know. It's late and I'm tired. I'd really rather-\"\n\n\"You don't want your name to start going around. You don't want people to start talking that you're not civic-minded.\"\n\nRichard smirked. \"I thought the meetings were voluntary.\"\n\nIshaq barked a laugh again. Richard collected his pack from a shelf in the back corner and then ran to the door so Ishaq could lock it.\n\nOutside, in the gathering darkness, Richard could just make out Nicci's curvaceous form sitting on the wall at the warehouse entrance. Her curves often put him in mind of nothing so much as a snake. They had no room, yet, so she often came by the warehouse after she'd spent much of the day waiting in lines to buy bread and other necessities. They would walk together back to their shelter in a quiet alley about a mile away. Richard had paid a small price to some of the boys thereto guard their place and make sure no one else took it. The boys were young enough to be thankful for the small price and old enough to be diligent about their job.\n\n\"Get any bread?\" Richard asked as he approached.\n\nNicci hopped down off the wall. \"No bread today-they were out. But I got us some cabbage. I'll make us a soup.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Richard's stomach was growling." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He'd been hoping for bread so he could eat apiece right then. Soup would take time.\n\n\"Where's your pack? And if you bought cabbage, where is it?\"\n\nShe smiled and produced something small. She held it out before them as they walked so as to silhouette it against the deep violet of dusk. It was a key.\n\n\"A room? We got a place?\"\n\n\"I checked the lodging office this afternoon. Our name finally came up. They assigned a room to us. Mr. and Mrs. Cypher. We can sleep inside tonight. Good thing, too; it looks like it will rain tonight. I already put my things in our room.\"\n\nRichard rubbed his sore shoulders. He felt a wave of revulsion at the sham she was putting him through... putting Kahlan through. There were times when he felt a hint of something profoundly important about her and what she was doing, but most of the time he was merely overwhelmed by the lunacy of it all.\n\n\"Where is this room?\" He was hoping it wasn't clear over on the other side of the city.\n\n\"It's one we were at before-not too far from here. The one with the stain on the wall just inside the door.\"\n\n\"Nicci, they all had stains on the walls.\"\n\n\"The stain that looked like a horse's rear end with its tail flicked up. You'll see it soon.\"\n\nRichard was starving. \"I have to go to a workers' group meeting again tonight.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" Nicci said. \"Workers'group meetings are important. They help keep a person's mind on what's proper and on everyone's duty to his fellowman.\"\n\nThe meetings were torture. Nothing worthwhile ever came about at the meetings. They sometimes lasted hours. There were people, though, who lived for the meetings so they could stand up in front of others and talk about the glory of the Order. It was their shining hour, their time to be somebody, to be important." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Those who didn't show up for the meetings were used as examples of people who weren't properly committed to the cause of the Order." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "If the absent person didn't mend his ways, it was possible he could end up being suspected of subversion. The lack of truth to the suspicion was irrelevant. Stating the charge made some people feel more important in a land where equality was held as the highest ideal.\n\nSubversion seemed to be a dark cloud hovering constantly over the Old World. It wasn't at all unusual to seethe city guard taking people into custody on suspicion of subversion. Torture produced confessions, which proved the veracity of the accuser. The people who spoke at length at the meetings had, by this logic, accurately pointed a finger at a number of insurrectionists, as evidenced by their confessions.\n\nThe undercurrent of tension in Altur'Rang left many worried over the constant scourge of insurrection-coming from the New World, it was said. Officials of the Order wasted no time in stamping it out whenever it was discovered. Other people were so consumed with fear that the finger would turn toward them that the speakers at the workers\" group meetings were assured of having a large number of zealous supporters.\n\nIn many a public square, as a constant reminder of what would happen should you fall into the wrong company, the bodies of subversives were left to hang from high poles until the birds picked their bones clean. The running joke, if an incautious person said anything that sounded at all out of line, was'You looking to be buried in the sky?\"\n\nRichard yawned again as they turned down the street toward the meeting hall. \"I don't remember the stain that looks like a horse's rear end.\"\n\nRocks crunched beneath their boots as they walked down the side of the dark street. Off ahead of them, in the distance, he could see Ishaq's lantern swinging as the man hurried to the meeting." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You were paying attention to something else at the time." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It's the room where those three live.\"\n\n\"Three what?\"\n\nA number of other people, some he knew, most he didn't, hastened along the street on their way to the meeting.\n\nRichard remembered then. He stopped.\n\n\"You mean the place where those three bullies live-the three with the knives?\"\n\nHe could just barely see her nod in the dim light. \"That's the place.\"\n\n\"Great.\" Richard wiped a hand across his face as they started out again. \"Did you ask if we could have a different room?\"\n\n\"New people in the city are fortunate to get rooms. Rooms are assigned as your name comes up. If you turn it down, you go back to the bottom of the list.\"\n\n\"Did you have to give the landlord any money, yet?\"\n\nShe shrugged. \"Just what I had.\"\n\nRichard ground his teeth as he walked. \"That's all we have for the rest of the week.\"\n\n\"I can stretch the soup.\"\n\nRichard didn't trust her. She probably somehow saw to it that they got that particular room. He suspected that she wanted to see what he would do about the three young men, now that he was forced into the situation. She was always doing little things, asking odd questions, making bold statements, just to see what his reaction would be, how he would handle matters. He couldn't imagine what it was she wanted from him.\n\nHe began to worry about the three. He remembered quite clearly how Cara's Agiel had caused Kahlan to suffer the same pain as Nicci. If those three abused Nicci, Kahlan would suffer it, too. That thought made him go cold and sweaty with worry.\n\nAt the workers'group meeting, Richard and Nicci sat on benches at the rear of a smoky room while people upfront spoke about the glory of the Order, and how it helped all people to live amoral life. Richard's mind drifted to the brook behind the house he had built, to the sunlit summer afternoons watching Kahlan dangle her feet in the water. He ached with longing as his mind's eye traced the curve of her legs. There were speeches about every worker's duty to their fellowman. Many of the discourses were given in a droning monotone, having been repeated so often that it was clear that the words were meaningless, and that only the act of saying them mattered. Richard recalled Kahlan laughing as he caught the fish he'd put in jars for her. Many of the people, the group leaders, or citizen spokesmen, delivered with passion and fire their praise for the ways of the Order. A few people stood up and talked about those who weren't there, giving their names, saying what poor attitudes they had toward the welfare of their fellow workers. Whispers passed among the crowd." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After the speeches were given, some of the workers' wives stood up and explained that they had extra need of late because they had just had new children, or their husbands were laid up, or the relatives they cared for were ill. After each spoke, there was a show of hands. If you agreed to do the right thing and have the group help them, then you raised your hand.\n\nThe names of these who didn't raise their hand were noted. Ishaq had explained to Richard that you were allowed not to raise your hand, if you didn't agree, but if you did it very often, you were put on a watch list. Richard didn't know what a watch list was, but it was easy enough to surmise, and Ishaq had told Richard that he didn't want to be on one, and to see to it that he raised his hand more often than not.\n\nRichard raised it every time. He didn't really care what happened. He had no interest in taking part, no interest in trying to make things better, and no interest in how well or poorly people's lives went. Most seemed to want the comfort of the Order running their lives, relieving them of the burden of thinking on their own. Just like Anderith. Nicci seemed surprised, and occasionally even disappointed, to see his hand go up every time, but didn't objector question.\n\nHe was hardly even aware of his hand going up. He was smiling inwardly as he recalled the wonder in Kahlan's expression, the astonishment in her green eyes, when she saw Spirit for the first time. Richard would have carved a mountain for her, just to see her tearful joy in seeing something she admired, something she cherished, something she valued.\n\nAnother man spoke, complaining about the conditions, how unfair they were, and how he had been forced to quit rather than subject himself to such abuse by the transport company. He was the man who had quit and left Richard to handle the loads by himself. Richard raised his hand along with all the others to grant the man full wages for six months in recompense." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After the show of hands, and some whispering and scratching on paper as all the obligations were figured up, the healthy working members were assessed their just share to help those in need. Those who were able, Richard had been told, had a duty to produce with all their effort in order to help those who couldn't.\n\nWhen men's names were called, they stood to hear the share to betaken from their wages the next week. Because he was new, Richard's name was called last. He stood, staring off across the dimly lit room at the people in moth-eaten coats sitting behind the long table made of two old doors. Ishaq sat atone end, going along with the others in everything. Several of the women still had their heads together. When they finished, they whispered to the chairman and he nodded.\n\n\"Richard Cypher, being as you are new, you still have some catching up to do on your duty to your workers' group. Your next weeks wages are assessed as due in aid..\"\n\nRichard stood dumbly fora moment. \"How am Ito eat to pay my rent?\"\n\nPeople in the room turned to frown at him. The chairman slapped his hand on the table, calling for silence.\n\n\"You should thank the Creator to be blessed with good health so as you can work, young man. Right now, there are those who are not as fortunate in life as you, those with greater need than you. Suffering and need comes before selfish personal enrichment.\"\n\nRichard sighed. What did it really matter? After all, he was lucky in life.\n\n\"Yes, sir. I see what you mean. I'm happy to volunteer my share toward those with needs.\"\n\nHe wished Nicci hadn't given away all their money.\n\n\"Well,\" he said to Nicci as they shuffled out into the night, \"I guess we can ask the landlord for the rent money back. We can stay on where we were staying before, until I can work some more and save up some money.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "As the writer's helper, keep the story going.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, objectivism\nAuthor: Terry Goodkind\nTitle: Faith of the Fallen\nChapter: 69" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I understand,\" he said. He gasped sharply. \"Do it, then.\"\n\nThe pain of her magic seared into him like white-hot coals thrown on bare flesh. He almost cried out, but then the pain abruptly ceased. Richard lay with his eyes closed, panting, waiting for it to start again. He felt her hands slip from him.\n\nRichard opened his eyes and saw that Sister Alessandra's eyes were opened wide. For an instant, he wondered why.\n\nAnd then he saw afoot of steel jutting from her chest. Her fingers went to her throat as blood gushed from her open mouth. A silent scream formed on her lips.\n\nA bony hand shoved her aside.\n\nShe had been impaled on the sword Richard had used to fight Kahlan. His hand blindly went for the hilt he knew was there, but afoot kicked the Sword of Truth aside.\n\nDeath's own skull grinned down at him.\n\n\"You area troublesome man, Richard Cypher,\" came the grating voice from the darkness above. \"But at last, that trouble is ended.\"\n\nThe tall angular figure in robes and a creased cap towered above him as he lay helpless on the cold wet floor.\n\n\"This little rebellion of yours will be crushed, I can promise you that much, before you die. Their foolish little tantrum will be brought to an end. The people will soon come to their senses. Your kind appeals only to the extremist fringe. Most people see their duty to their fellowman. Your efforts have been for nothing.\"\n\nBrother Narev swept his arm around, as if in introduction.\n\n\"An appropriate place for you to die, don't you think, Richard? These rooms are the future questioning chambers. You eluded the chambers once, but not this time. You will die in one as you should have died in one before." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I, on the other hand, will live here along, longtime, and seethe Order bring morality to the world." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Down here, in these chambers, radicals like you will confess their wickedness. I just wanted you to know, before you are embraced in the Keeper's cold arms for all eternity.\"\n\nBrother Narev's skeletal hands clawed as he called forth his magic. Richard saw white-hot light blossom around the high priest's hands and expand downward. Richard squeezed Kahlan's hand as he watched the white light of death come for him.\n\nThe bloom of light turned a honey color. As if the air had thickened, the light slumped off to the sides.\n\nA howl of fury grew in Narev's throat. His shook his fists in rage.\n\n\"You have the gift of a wizard! Who are you?\"\n\n\"I am your worst nightmare. I am a thinking man who can't be deluded by your lies, anymore than I can be burned by your foul magic.\"\n\nBrother Narev tried to smash his foot down on Richard's face, but Richard was able to deflect the blow. He seized Narev's ankle. The man caught his balance and pulled madly to get free. The effort of holding on felt as if it ripped the wound through Richard's insides. He tried to hold on, but his fingers slipped from the wet leather.\n\nOnce free, and out of Richard's reach, Narev bent and seized the hilt of the sword lodged in the Sister's back. He tugged but it didn't come completely out. He growled in fury, his boots slipping on the slimy floor, as he yanked on the sword.\n\nRichard knew that, once armed, Narev would be a swift executioner.\n\nWith all his strength, Richard lunged at the man's legs. Brother Narev toppled back onto the wet floor. Richard, his middle wrenched in torture, threw himself atop Narev's legs to hold him down. Bony fingers clawed at Richard's face, trying to gouge his eyes. Richard turned his head away. With fierce effort, he clutched at the heavy robes, dragging himself up the man's body, ignoring the blows to his face as he did so." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He seized Brother Narev by the throat. Brother Narev's bony fingers closed savagely around Richard's throat. Both men growled with the effort of trying to strangle each other to death. Richard twisted his head, trying to prevent Narev from getting a death grip, while at the same time trying to get his own thumbs over Narev's windpipe so he could choke off his air.\n\nNarev tried to roll, to throw Richard off. Richard spread his legs to make it harder for Narev to flip him over, and held tight as the man twisted and fought. He could feel his insides tearing.\n\nRichard had wielded a chisel and hammer for the Order for months. He was stronger, but he was also losing a lot of blood, and that strength was fading. He squeezed with all his might. The fingers at his throat loosened a little.\n\nThe man's eyes bulged as Richard finally managed to start to choke the life out of him. Bony hands thumped at Richard's shoulders.\n\nThe hands suddenly and fiercely seized Richard by his hair.\n\nNarev freed a leg and brought his knee up into Richard's wound.\n\nThe world went white with pain.\n\nNicci woke, dazed, to the sound of a low, wicked laugh. She knew the voice. She knew the smell. Kadar Kardeef.\n\nShe heard a snapping, popping, hissing sound. A torch, she realized. He whipped it around in front of her face, so close she could feel the terrible heat against her flesh. Burning pitch dripped off, falling on her leg.\n\nNicci screamed in pain as the pitch burned into the flesh of her thigh.\n\n\"What goes around, comes around,\" Kadar said in her ear." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I don't care what you do tome,\" Nicci cried in rage. \"I'm glad I burned you. I'm glad you've had to beg.\"\n\n\"Oh you'll be begging, too, before long. You may not think so, but you'll be surprised what fire makes a person do. You will yet know what it was like. You will yet beg.\"\n\nWith all her might, Nicci struggled against him. She could undo the spell, if only Kahlan were closer. So near, but so far.\n\nThe fire before her eyes sent terror scorching through her. She had only to snip the cord linking her to Kahlan. She could break the link. She didn't have to undo it in order to have her power back. Nicci could escape, then. It would cost Kahlan her life, but Nicci would have her power, and she could escape the flames.\n\nBut she would have to kill Kahlan to do it.\n\n\"Shall I burn your face, first, Nicci? Your lovely face? Or maybe I should start with your legs. Which shall it be? You pick.\"\n\nNicci panted as she struggled, trying to back away from the heat on her flesh. The hissing torch waved in front of her face. She knew she deserved such a fate; but she was driven to wild panic by the fear of it.\n\nShe didn't want to snip the link, to kill Kahlan, but she didn't want to die this way. She didn't want her flesh to burn.\n\n\"I say we start at the bottom, so we can hear your screams.\"\n\nKadar brought the torch down and touched it to the hem of her dress. Nicci screamed as the black cloth caught flame. Such fear was anew sensation for her; for the first time since she was very small, she had something she cared about, and didn't want to lose: life." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ina moment of stark terror, Nicci knew that no matter how much it was to hurt, no matter how frightening it was to be, she would not take Kahlan's life. Richard had given her the answer she had sought. She had taken too much already. In return for that lesson, she could not now violate it.\n\nEven though Kahlan, linked to Nicci, was to suffer the same fate, would die the same agonizing death, Nicci would not be the one who inflicted it. She would not take Kahlan's life from her. Kadar would be bringing their death, but Nicci would not. She would not kill Kahlan to save herself.\n\nKadar Kardeef laughed as he watched her dress ignite. He held her in a firm grip Nicci could not escape.\n\nJust then, a dark shape flew at her from midair, crashing into them both. They tumbled back, the air all around filled with fire. As Nicci rolled, it put the flaming dress out in the water.\n\nThe one who had crashed into them was just getting up, shaking her head as if to clear it. Nicci recognized her. It was the Mord-Sith, Cara.\n\nKadar sat up, saw the woman, and lunged at her with the torch.\n\nNicci threw herself at Kadar, grabbing the torch in both hands as she pushed it into the big man's face. The pitch splashed against his mask of rags. The cloth on his chest and around his head ignited with aloud whoosh.\n\nKadar screamed as the flames burned into his already melted flesh. Nicci had heard that heat to previously burned flesh was worse than the first burning. By the sound of his screams, it appeared to be true." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nicci snatched Cara's hand as the woman was regaining her feet. \"Hurry! I must get to Richard!\"\n\nOutside the room where Kadar's shrieks fell to strangled whimpers as the flames suffocated him, Cara seized Nicci by the hair and held her Agiel inches from her face.\n\n\"Give me one reason why I should trust you with Lord Rahl's life.\"\n\nNicci gazed into Cara's eyes. \"Because I saw his statue, and I understand, now, how wrong I've been. Have you ever been wrong, Cara? Really wrong? Can you ever understand what it's like to realize you've been unthinkingly serving evil, and hurting good people? Can you understand that Richard has shown me there is something to live for?\"\n\nNicci found Richard lying on his back, unconscious, or at least close to it. His head was pillowed on a marble hand. Kahlan lay beside him, clinging to him, weeping as his life bled away.\n\nNicci was shocked to seethe bodies strewn on the floor around them. Sister Alessandra, Brother Neal, Brother Narev. She knew by the way Richard looked that there was precious little time-if it was not already too late.\n\nNicci knelt beside Kahlan. The woman was in abject misery, hanging by the last threads of desperate hope over the black brink of despair. She had come all this way, wanting to be with him, willing to suffer any end to do so. And here he lay, the lifeblood draining out of the one she loved most in life, knowing it was by her hand.\n\nNicci took Kahlan by her shoulders and gently pulled her back. Kahlan looked up in confusion, hatred, and hope." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Kahlan, I need to remove the spell from you if I'm to help him." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There's not much time.\"\n\n\"I don't trust you. Why would you help?\"\n\n\"Because I owe it to him-to both of you.\"\n\n\"You have brought nothing but suffering and-\"\n\nCara took Kahlan's arm. \"Mother Confessor, you don't have to trust her. Trust me. I'm telling you that Nicci might be able to save him. I believe she will do her best. Please, let her do it.\"\n\n\"Why should I trust her with his last few minutes of his life?\"\n\n\"Please, let Nicci have the chance Lord Rahl once gave me.\"\n\nKahlan searched Cara's eyes fora moment, then turned to Nicci.\n\n\"I know what it's like to be where he is now. I've been there. I chose life. Now, he must. What do I need to do?\"\n\n\"You and Richard have already done enough.\" Nicci took Kahlan's tearstained face in her hands. \"Just be still, and let me do this.\"\n\nThe woman was shivering in misery. Her longhair was matted and dripping wet. She was covered in Richard's blood. She could do no more for him, and she knew it.\n\nNicci had to.\n\nAs Kahlan gazed into her eyes, Nicci re-ignited the connecting cord of magic, hoping that she had enough time.\n\nKahlan went rigid with the shock of pain it caused. Nicci knew exactly how it felt, because she felt the same pain.\n\nMilky light connected both women, heart to heart. Its wavering glow grew to blinding brightness, taking the pain to anew level in intensity.\n\nKahlan's mouth opened in a silent cry. Her green eyes widened with the torment flooding through them both-as the root of magic embedded in every fiber of their two beings vibrated in response to the call of the light." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nicci placed her hands over her heart, in that incandescent shaft of light, and began to withdraw her power." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard pulled a shuddering breath as he opened his eyes. Somehow, he was lying in a position that didn't hurt. He feared to move, lest the crushing pain return.\n\nHow could that be? He'd been run through with a sword.\n\nThe darkness around him was still and quiet. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of battle raging on. The ground beneath him shuddered with some great impact.\n\nThere were people around him. Bodies lay on the wet floor. He realized he was on aboard, keeping him up out of the water. He was covered in a warm cloak. He could seethe dark hunched shapes of people huddled around in the little room.\n\nUnder his fingers lay the hilt of the Sword of Truth. Because the storm of magic was calmed, he knew the sword was in its scabbard.\n\nHe looked up, and through the openings between beams, through broken stone and splintered wood, and could seethe rosy blush of dawn.\n\n\"Kahlan?\" he whispered.\n\nThree figures in the room sprang up, as if stone had suddenly come to life.\n\nThe closest leaned in. \"I'm here.\" She took up his hand.\n\nWith his other hand, he reluctantly probed for his wound. He couldn't find it. He felt no pain, only a lingering ache.\n\nAnother figure leaned in. \"Lord Rahl? Are you awake?\"\n\n\"What happened?\"\n\n\"Oh, Richard, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I stabbed you. It was all my fault. I should have taken an instant to be sure before I did it. I'm so sorry.\"\n\nRichard frowned. \"Kahlan, I let you win.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Silence greeted him.\n\n\"Richard,\" Kahlan finally said, \"you don't have to try to ease my guilt. I know it's my fault. Iran you through with the sword.\"\n\n\"No,\" Richard insisted, \"I let you win.\"\n\nCara patted his shoulder. \"Of course you did, Lord Rahl. Of course you did.\"\n\n\"No, really.\"\n\nWhen the third figure turned to him, Richard's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword.\n\n\"How do you feel?\" Nicci asked in that silken voice he knew so well.\n\n\"Did you remove the link to Kahlan?\"\n\nNicci raised her hand and made a scissors motion with two fingers. \"Gone for good.\"\n\nRichard let out a breath. \"Then I feel fine.\" He tried to sit up, but Nicci's hand restrained him.\n\n\"Richard, I can never ask your forgiveness because I can never return what I stole from you, but I want you to know that I now understand how wrong I've been. My whole life, I have been blind. I'm not making an excuse. It's just that I want you to know that you have restored my vision. In giving me the answer I sought, you gave me my life. You gave me a reason to want to live.\"\n\n\"And what did you see, Nicci?\"\n\n\"Life. You sculpted it so big that even someone who had so blindly served evil, as I had done, could see it. You must no longer prove yourself tome. Now, it is for me, and those here you have inspired, to prove ourselves to you.\"\n\n\"You and they have already begun, or I would not be alive.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So... you area Sister of the Light again?\" Kahlan asked.\n\nNicci shook her head. \"No. I am Nicci. My ability as a sorceress is mine; it is who I am. My ability does not enslave me to others because they want it. It's my life. It does not belong to anyone---except maybe to you two.\"\n\n\"You both have shown me the value of life, the rationale of freedom. If I am to serve beside anyone, now, it will be beside others who hold dear the same values.\"\n\nRichard placed his handover Nicci's. \"Thank you for saving my life. Fora while there, I thought I'd made a mistake when I let Kahlan run me through.\"\n\n\"Richard,\" Kahlan objected, \"you don't have to try to assuage my guilt by saying that.\"\n\nNicci was gazing into his eyes, even as she addressed Kahlan. \"He's not. He's telling you the truth. I saw him do it. He was forcing me to make a choice to save him, so that I would have to break the spell holding you. I'm sorry you had to endure such a thing, Richard; I'd already made the choice-the moment I saw your statue.\"\n\nRichard tried to sit up again. Nicci restrained him again.\n\n\"It is going to take time for you to recover fully. You are still suffering the lingering effects of the injury. Just because you are alive, that doesn't mean it won't take sometime before you are completely recovered. You have gone through a formidable ordeal. You lost a lot of blood. You will need to rebuild your strength. You could yet die if you don't go easy.\"\n\n\"All right,\" Richard conceded. He sat up carefully with Kahlan's help. \"I'll keep your words in mind, but I still have to getup there.\" He turned to Kahlan. \"By the way, what are you doing all the way down here? How did you know where I was? What's happening to the north, in the New World?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We'll talk about all that later,\" she said. \"I had to be with you. I decided that it was my life, and I wanted to be with you. You were right about the war in the New World. It took me along time to come to understand that. I finally did. I came to be with you because that was all that was left for me.\"\n\nHe looked to Cara. \"And you?\"\n\n\"I always wanted to seethe world.\"\n\nRichard smirked as he rose with the help of Kahlan and Cara, both. He felt lightheaded, but was joyful to trade that for the way he had been before. Kahlan handed him his sword. He slipped the baldric over his head, laying the leather across his shoulder and the scabbard at his hip. Knowing the weapon a little more intimately, now, he had anew respect for it.\n\n\"I can't tell you how happy I am to return it to you,\" Kahlan said. She smiled sheepishly. \"Like this, I mean.\"\n\nFarther down the hall Kamil was anxiously waiting in the darkness pierced by only a couple of candles. There were a number of people with him. Richard didn't know any of the people, except Kamil. He put a hand to the grinning young man's shoulder.\n\n\"Kamil. Good to see you.\"\n\n\"Richard, I saw it. I saw the statue.\" His smile faded. \"I'm sorry it was destroyed.\"\n\n\"It was only apiece of stone. It was the ideas it represented that were its true beauty.\"\n\nPeople in the dim hallway nodded. Richard saw, then, the woman with the wounded leg. He smiled at her. She returned a kiss, on the end of her fingers, to his forehead." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Bless you for your bravery in carving that statue,\" she said. \"We are all joyful to know you survived the night, Richard.\"\n\nHe thanked them all for their concern.\n\nThe ground shook-again.\n\n\"What is that?\" Richard asked.\n\n\"The walls,\" one of the men said. \"The people are pulling down the walls with those carvings of death on them.\"\n\nEven as some people were pulling down the walls, others were still engaged in pitched battle. Richard could see in the faint light of dawn the fighting on the distant hillsides. It appeared that many people were not happy about the ideas Richard's statue had represented. There were those who feared freedom, and preferred the numb existence of not having to think for themselves.\n\nThe palace grounds, though, were insecure hands. The fires of liberty were spreading outward, igniting a conflagration of change.\n\nIn the plaza, the semicircle of walls and all the columns but one still stood. It felt somehow different here. This was the place where people had seen the statue and had chosen life. They weren't destroying this part of the palace.\n\nRichard dragged his boot through the marble dust. In the center of the plaza, the layer of white dust was all that remained. Every precious fragment had been saved as a reminder.\n\nFrom out on the grounds where several men were gathered, Victor spotted Richard, Kamil, and Nicci, whom he knew. He called out as he and Ishaq came running.\n\n\"Richard!\" Victor raced up the steps. \"Richard!\"\n\nRichard had Cara under one arm and Kamil under the other, supporting him. He didn't have the strength to shout, so he simply waited until the two men were close, both panting from their run." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Richard, we're winning!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Victor said as he pointed at the hills. \"All those officials, gone, and we-\"\n\nThe blacksmith went silent as his eyes fell on Kahlan. Ishaq, too, stared at her, then swept his red hat off his head.\n\nVictor's mouth labored a moment before words finally worked their way out. His hand, usually so expressive, simply pointed at her as if she could not be real flesh.\n\n\"You...\" he said to Kahlan. \"You are Richard's love.\"\n\nKahlan smiled. \"How do you know that?\"\n\n\"I saw the statue.\"\n\nIn the dawn light, Richard could see her face gored.\n\n\"It didn't look exactly like me,\" she protested, graciously.\n\n\"Not the way it looked, but the... character. You have that quality.\"\n\nKahlan smiled, pleased by his words.\n\n\"Victor, Ishaq, this is Kahlan. My wife.\"\n\nBoth men blinked dumbly and looked as one to Nicci.\n\n\"As you know,\" Nicci said, \"I am not a very good person. I am a sorceress. I used my power to force Richard to come herewith me. Richard has shown me, along with many other people, the nobility of life.\"\n\n\"Then you're the one who saved his life?\" Victor asked.\n\n\"Kamil told us you were hurt, Richard,\" Ishaq said, \"and that a sorceress was healing you.\"\n\n\"Nicci healed me,\" Richard confirmed.\n\nVictor gestured expansively-at last. \"Well, I guess that has to count for something, saving Richard Cypher.\"\n\n\"Richard Rahl,\" Richard said." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Victor's rolling laugh rumbled up from deep inside." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Right. This day, we are all Richard Rahl.\"\n\nNicci leaned in. \"It really is Richard Rahl, Mr. Cascella.\"\n\n\"Richard Rahl,\" Kahlan said, adding her nod.\n\n\"Lord Rahl,\" Cara said in ill humor. \"Show the proper respect to the Seeker of Truth, the master of the D'Haran Empire, war wizard, and the husband to the Mother Confessor herself.\" Cara lifted her hand in graceful, regal introduction. \"Lord Rahl.\"\n\nRichard shrugged. He lifted the gleaming, silver-wound hilt of his sword, showing them the word TRUTH in gold, and then let it drop back into its scabbard.\n\n\"What a beauty!\" Kamil shouted.\n\nVictor and Ishaq both blinked again, and then dropped to a knee. They bowed their heads deeply.\n\nRichard rolled his eyes. \"Will you two stop it.\" He shot Cara a scowl.\n\nVictor peered up cautiously. \"But we never knew. I'm sorry. You're not angry I made fun of you?\"\n\n\"Victor, it's me, Richard. How many times have we eaten your lardo together?\"\n\n\"Lardo?\" Kahlan asked. \"You know how to make lardo, Victor?\"\n\nVictor rose up, a grin growing across his face as he peered at her. \"You know of lardo?\"\n\n\"Of course. The men who used to come to work on the white marble at the Confessors' Palace used to eat lardo they made themselves-in big marble tubs. I used to sit and eat it with them when I was little. They used to say I would grow up to wear the white dress of the Mother Confessor one day because I ate their lardo and would grow strong from it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Victor thumped his chest with a big thumb." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I make lardo in marble tubs, too.\"\n\n\"Do you let it age fora year?\" Kahlan asked. \"You have to let proper lardo age fora year.\"\n\n\"Of course, a year! I make only proper lardo.\"\n\nKahlan gave him her most beautiful, green-eyed smile. \"I would love to taste it sometime.\"\n\nVictor draped his massive arm around Kahlan's shoulders. \"Come, Richard's wife, I will give you a taste of my lardo.\"\n\nCara, a dark look on her face, put a hand to the blacksmith's chest to stop him. She lifted his arm from Kahlan's shoulders.\n\n\"No one but Lord Rahl touches the Mother Confessor.\"\n\nVictor gave Cara a quizzical look. \"Have you ever had lardo?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nVictor slapped Cara on the back as he laughed. \"Come, then, and I will give you lardo, too. Then you will see-anyone who eats lardo with me is my friend for life.\"\n\nKahlan took Kamil's place under one of Richard's arms, Victor under the other, and they made their way across newly free ground up to the blacksmith's shop, to have some lardo." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Verna pulled the candle close. She warmed her hands over it a moment, then laid the journey book on the table. The sounds of the army camp outside her small tent were by now so familiar she almost didn't hear them.\n\nIt was a cold D'Haran winter night, but at least they and all the people they had helped were safely over the mountains. Verna understood their quiet anxiety: it was anew and mysterious place, D'Hara, a land once only a source of nightmares. At least they were safe for the time being. In the distance the wolves' long plaintive howls echoed through the frigid mountains, off the moonlit snow blanketing the seemingly endless, desolate, colossal slopes.\n\nIt was the proper phase of the moon, even if it was the moon in anew land, a strange and unknown land. Verna had checked for months, but there was never a message. She didn't really expect one, since Kahlan had thrown Ann's twinned journey book in the fire. But still, it was a journey book, an ancient thing of magic, and Ann was a resourceful woman. It didn't hurt to look.\n\nVerna opened the little book with no real hope.\n\nThere, on the first page, was a message.\n\nAll it said, was, Verna, I am waiting, if you are there.\n\nVerna drew the stylus from the spine and immediately began writing. Prelate! You have been able to fix the damaged journey book? That's wonderful. Where are you? Are you well? Have you found Nathan?\n\nVerna waited. Shortly, the reply began to appear.\n\nVerna, I am well. I was able to restore the journey book with the help of some... people. Strange people. But the important part is that it is restored for the most part. I am still searching for the prophet. I have some good clues on Nathan's whereabouts, and I am looking into them. But how are you, Verna? How goes the war? Warren? Kahlan? Is Zedd giving you much trouble? That man can try the patience of stone. Have you had word of Richard?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Verna stared at words on the page. A tear fell near Warren's name. She picked up the stylus once more, and slowly began her reply.\n\nOh, Prelate, some terrible things have happened.\n\nI am sorry, Verna, came the reply. Verna, I am here. I am going nowhere for the night. Take all the time you need. Tell me what happened. Tell me how you are, first. I worry so for you. Verna, I love you like a daughter. You know I do.\n\nVerna nodded to the book. She did know it.\n\nAnd I love you, too, Prelate, Verna began. I fear my heart is broken.\n\nKahlan stood silently beside him in the warm midday breeze as Richard looked out over the river, at the city beyond. The city was peaceful, now. Battle had raged for weeks, various factions struggling for power, lusting to be the new local incarnation of the Order, each faction swearing that they had the best interest of the people at heart, each promising that they would be compassionate in their rule, each pledging that life would be easier under their mandate because they would see to it that everyone of means contributed to the common good.\n\nAfter decades of such altruistic tyranny, decay and death had been the only product of the business of the common good. Despite graveyards full of evidence and a people left impoverished, these aspirants to power offered only more of the same, and yet many still believed them simply because they uttered such good intentions.\n\nWhile a great number of brothers and officials had been killed, some had escaped. Some of those, who had not fled, thought to take advantage of the confusion and establish control, thinking they could rein in the hunger for freedom, the ideas loosed, and put things back to the way they were." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The free people of Altur'Rang, their numbers growing daily, eradicated each of these factions as they emerged from under their rocks." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nicci had been no small aid in the bloody battles. She knew the methods of such people, where they went to ground, and pounced on them like a wolf on vermin.\n\nThe forces lusting to oversee the welfare and betterment of mankind came to greatly fear that which they had in fact created: Death's Mistress.\n\nThere was no telling, yet, if freedom's flame, now ignited, would spread through the Old World. It was still a very small flame in avast and dark place, but Richard knew that such aflame burned brightly.\n\nTo the north, matters were not nearly so auspicious. With Nicci's magic withdrawn, Richard supposed that the D'Harans would know where he was, and send him messages. Cara was immensely relieved to be able to sense his location again through her bond.\n\nHe had listened quietly as Kahlan and Cara had told him all the details of the war, and how they had sent the people of Aydindril on along and difficult journey to D'Hara before Jagang could march into the city in the spring. It would give them heart to know that Lord Rahl had struck a mighty blow against the Old World, to know that the Mother Confessor was with him, and that they were well. A number of men had requested the job of carrying that invaluable news north.\n\nSoon, the D'Haran Empire and the people they were protecting who had fled their homes would know of the victory to the south. The messengers would actually be carrying a more precious commodity than that news: they would in reality be carrying hope.\n\nRichard had also sent his grandfather the same word.\n\nRichard could hardly believe that Warren, his friend, was gone. The terrible anguish, he knew, would be slow to fade." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard had sent one other thing north.\n\nNicci had told him of Brother Narev's importance to Emperor Jagang, of their long history together, and of their shared vision of the future of mankind. In the spring when Jagang finally, triumphantly, rode into seize the Confessors\" Palace, waiting for him there, before his empty victory, would be his mentor's head on a pike, topped by his creased brown cap.\n\nNicci had woven a spell around it, to preserve it, to keep scavengers away. Rich and wanted to be sure that when Jagang finally saw it, he would not mistake who it was.\n\nIn the teeming city of Altur'Rang, peace had returned, along with freedom. Life had returned. People had begun to open new businesses. Ina matter of weeks, there was already a variety of bread available. New enterprises were starting everyday. Ishaq was making a fortune hauling goods, but already had competitors vying for the business. Nabbi had gone to work for him. Ishaq had begged Richard to come work for him when he was strong enough. Richard had only laughed.\n\nFaval, the charcoal maker, had beseeched Ishaq to ask Richard to come to visit and have dinner with him and his family. Faval had bought a cart, and his sons now delivered charcoal.\n\nRichard leaned with his forearms on the railing at the edge of the pier and gazed down over the edge, to the swirling water below, as if trying to divine what the future held.\n\nThe piers out into the river and the walkway atop them, along with the plaza, were about all that remained of the palace. Richard had seen to it that the spellforms were removed from the tops of the columns around the grounds, and had Priska melt them down." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Richard had regained most of his strength. Kahlan was strong, and as beautiful as he remembered her. She had changed, though. Her face had grown more mature in the year they had been apart. When he gazed at her, he hungered fora piece of marble and his chisels so he could carve her face in stone.\n\nFlesh in stone.\n\nHe turned and looked back along the pier, toward the plaza, with its semicircle of columns behind it. The fallen column had been restored. The plaza had been renamed'Liberty Square,\" Victor's idea. Richard asked if it shouldn't be called'Liberty Circle,\" since it was round, and not square. Victor thought it sounded better as Liberty Square, so Richard called it Liberty Square. After all, the first man to declare himself free, there, had been Victor.\n\nKahlan gazed with him back toward the plaza.\n\n\"What do you think?\" Richard asked her.\n\nShe shook her head, looking at best a little uneasy. \"I don't know, Richard. It just seems so strange to see it so... big. So... white.\"\n\n\"You don't like it?\"\n\nShe quickly put a hand on his arm to dispel the notion. \"No, it isn't that, it's just that it's so...\" her uncertain gaze returned down the pier-\"big.\"\n\nThe center of the plaza, where the statue Richard had carved had briefly stood, now held a towering marble statue being worked on by a number of stone carvers who used to work at the site carving misery and death. Kamil was down there, learning the craft of stone carving from masters. His education started with a broom.\n\nRichard had hired the carvers. With the fortune he had made helping the Order build its palace, he could easily afford it. The carvers were glad for such work-to exchange value for value." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The expert carvers were working on scaling up the small statue of Spirit, which Richard had carved for Kahlan, way back in their mountain home when she needed to witness vitality, courage, and indomitable spirit. It emerged anew in the best white Cavatura marble.\n\nThe bronze ring of the sundial had survived intact, and was being added to the piece. The statue rising in the center would cast its shadow on the curved dial plane. The words so many had touched that day would be therefor all to see, now.\n\nKahlan had been enthusiastic about the concept, but had spent so many months with the carving Richard had done, that it was disorienting for her to see it on such a massive scale. She was eager for the day when the carvers were finished scaling it up and she could have her own statue of Spirit back.\n\n\"I hope you don't mind sharing it with the world,\" he said.\n\nKahlan smiled wistfully. \"No, not at all.\"\n\n\"Everyone loves it,\" he assured her.\n\nHer wonderful lilting laugh drifted out across the warm afternoon air. \"I'll just have to get used to you showing people my body and soul.\"\n\nTogether, they watched as the carvers working on the flowing robes checked their work with calipers against the statue Richard had carved and the reference points from wooden braces used to scale up the work.\n\nKahlan rubbed his lower back. \"How are you feeling?\"\n\n\"I'm fine. Now that you're with me, I couldn't feel better.\"\n\nKahlan laughed, then. \"As long as I don't run you through?\"\n\nRichard's laugh fell in easily with hers. \"You know, when we tell our children how their mother ran their father through with a sword, it's going to look pretty bad for you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Are we going to have children, Richard?\"\n\n\"Yes, we are.\"\n\n\"Then I'll risk the tale.\"\n\nAs the warm breeze ruffled her hair, he kissed her brow.\n\nGlancing along the line of trees, their leaves shimmering in the sunlight, Richard watched birds cavort above the riverbank, sweep into a group, and then soar together up over the semicircle of white marble columns standing in the expanse of green grass.\n\nKahlan leaned contentedly against his shoulder as they watched men, filled with pride, smiling while they worked on the statue standing before those columns.\n\nIn Altur' Rang, there was anew spirit.\n\nIn the former heart of the Order beat freedom." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Carry on with the plot as the author's writing partner.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, war\nAuthor: Robert Jordan\nTitle: The Fires of Heaven\nChapter: 11" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There is more to this than Gaebril and his women, isn't there?\"\n\n\"Just go, Lini. And hurry. There is not much time.\" By the shadows she could see in the treefilled garden through the window, the sun had passed its height. Evening would be there all too soon. Evening, when Gaebril would be looking for her.\n\nWhen Lini left, Morgase remained in the chair, sitting rigidly. She dared not stand; her knees were stronger now, but she feared that if she began moving she would not stop until she was back in her sitting room, waiting for Gaebril. The urge was that strong, especially now that she was alone. And once he looked at her, once he touched her, she had no doubt that she would forgive him everything. Forget everything, maybe, based on how fuzzy and incomplete her memories were. Had she not known better, she could have thought that he had used the One Power on her in someway, but no man who could channel survived to his age.\n\nLini had often told her that there was always one man in the world for whom a woman would find herself behaving a brainless fool, but she had never believed that she could succumb. Still, her choices in men had never been good, however right they seemed at the time.\n\nTaringail Damodred she had wed for political reasons. He had been married to Tigraine, the DaughterHeir whose disappearance had set off the Succession when Mordrellein died. Marrying him had made a link with the old queen, smoothing the doubts of most of her opponents, and more importantly, had maintained the alliance that had ended the ceaseless wars with Cairhien. In such ways did queens choose their husbands. Taringail had been a cold, distant man, and there was never love, despite two wonderful children; it had been almost a relief when he died in a hunting accident." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Thomdril Merrilin, House bard and then Courtbard, had been a joy at first, intelligent and witty, a laughing man who used the tricks of the Game of Houses to aid her to the throne and help strengthen Andor once she had it. He had been twice her age then, yet she might have married him-marriages with commoners were not unheard of in Andor-but he vanished without a word, and her temper got the better of her. She never had learned why he had gone, but it did not matter. When he finally returned she would surely have rescinded the arrest order, but for once instead of softly turning her anger aside he had met her harsh word for harsh word, saying things she could never forgive. Her ears still burned to remember being called a spoiled child and a puppet of Tar Valon. He had actually shaken her, his queen!\n\nThen there had been Gareth Bryne, strong and capable, as bluff as his face and as stubborn as she; he had turned out to be a treasonous fool. He was well out of her life. It seemed years since she had seen him instead of little more than half of one.\n\nAnd finally Gaebril. The crown to her list of bad choices. At least the others had not tried to supplant her.\n\nNot so many men for one woman's life, but in another way, too many. Another thing that Lini sometimes said was that men were only good for three things, though very good for those. She had been on the throne before Lini had thought her old enough to tell what the three things were. Perhaps if I'd kept just to the dancing, she thought wryly, I'd not have so much trouble with them.\n\nThe shadows in the garden beyond the window had shifted an hour's worth before Lini returned with young Tallanvor, who went to one knee while she was still shutting the door. \"He didn't want to come with meat first,\" she said. \"Fifty years ago I suppose I could have shown what you are displaying to the world, and he'd have followed quick enough, but now I must needs use sweet reason.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tallanvor turned his head to lookup at her sourly. \"You threatened to harry me herewith a stick if I did not come. You are lucky I wondered what was so important to you, instead of having somebody drag you to the infirmary.\" Her stern sniff did not faze him. His acrid gaze turned angry as it shifted to Morgase. \"I see your meeting with Gaebril did not go well, my Queen. I had hoped for... more.\"\n\nHe was looking straight at her eyes, but Lini's comment had made her aware of her dress again. She felt as though glowing arrows were pointing to her exposed bosom. It was an effort to keep her hands calmly in her lap. \"You area sharp lad, Tallanvor. And loyal, I believe, else you would not have come tome with the news of the Two Rivers.\"\n\n\"I am not a boy,\" he snapped, jerking upright where he knelt. \"I am a man who has sworn his life in service to his queen.\"\n\nShe let her temper flare right back at him. \"If you area man, behave as one. Stand, and answer your queen's questions truthfully. And remember that I am your queen, young Tallanvor. Whatever you think may have happened, I am Queen of Andor.\"\n\n\"Forgive me, my Queen. I hear and obey.\" The words were properly said, if not exactly contrite, but he stood, head high, staring at her as defiantly as ever. Light, the man was as stubborn as Gareth Bryne had ever been.\n\n\"How many loyal men are there among the Guards in the Palace? How many will obey their oaths and follow me?\"\n\n\"I will,\" he said quietly, and suddenly all of his anger was gone, though he still stared intently at her face. \"For the rest... If you wish to find loyal men, you must look to the outlying garrisons, perhaps as far as Whitebridge. Some who were in Caemlyn were sent to Cairhien with the levies, but the rest in the city are Gaebril's to a man. Their new... Their new oath is to throne and law, not the Queen.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was worse than she had hoped for, but no more than she had expected, really. Whatever he was, Gaebril was no fool. \"Then I must go elsewhere to begin reestablishing my rule.\" The Houses would be difficult to rally after the exiles, after Ellorien, but it had to be done. \"Gaebril may try to stop me leaving the Palace\"-she found a faint memory of trying to leave, twice, and being halted by Gaebril-\"so you will procure two horses and wait in the street behind the south stables. I will meet you there, dressed for riding.\"\n\n\"Too public,\" he said. \"And too close. Gaebril's men might recognize you, however you disguised yourself. I know a man... Could you find an inn called The Queen's Blessing, in the western part of the New City?\" The New City was new only in comparison with the Inner City it surrounded.\n\n\"I can.\" She did not like being opposed, even when it made sense. Bryne had done that, too. It would be a pleasure to show this young man just how well she could disguise herself. It washer habit once a year, though she realized that she had not done it so far this year, to dress as a commoner and walk the streets to feel the pulse of the people. No one had ever recognized her. \"But can this man be trusted, young Tallanvor?\"\n\n\"Basel Gill is as loyal to you as I am myself.\" He hesitated, anguish crossing his face then being replaced by anger once more. \"Why have you waited so long? You must have known, you must have seen, yet you have waited while Gaebril tightened his hands around Andor's neck. Why have you waited?\"\n\nSo. His anger was honestly come by, and it deserved an honest answer. Only she had no answer, certainly not one she could tell him. \"It is not your place to question your Queen, young man,\" she said with a gentle firmness. \"A loyal man, as I know that you are loyal, serves without question.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He let out along breath. \"I will await you in the stable of The Queen's Blessing, my Queen.\" And with a bow suitable fora state audience, he was gone.\n\n\"Why do you keep calling him young?\" Lini demanded once the door closed. \"It puts his backup. 'A fool puts a burr under the saddle before she rides.\"\n\n\"He is young, Lini. Young enough to be my son.\"\n\nLini snorted, and this time there was nothing delicate about it. \"He has a few years on Galad, and Galad is too old to be yours. You were playing with dolls when Tallanvor was born, and thinking babes came the same way as dolls.\"\n\nSighing, Morgase wondered if the woman had treated her mother like this. Probably. And if Lini lived long enough to see Elayne on the throne-which somehow she did not doubt, Lini would last forever-she would probably treat Elayne no differently. That was assuming that a throne remained for Elayne to inherit. \"The question is, is he as loyal as he seems, Lini? One faithful Guardsman, when every other loyal man in the Palace has been sent away. Suddenly it seems too good to be true.\"\n\n\"He swore the new oath.\" Morgase opened her mouth, but Lini forestalled her. \"I saw him afterwards, alone behind the stables. That's how I knew who you meant; I found out his name. He did not see me. He was on his knees, tears streaming down his face. He alternated apologizing to you and repeating the old oath. Not just to'the Queen of Andor, \"but to'Queen Morgase of Andor. ' He swore in the old way, on his sword, slicing his arm to show he would shed his last drop before breaking it. I know a thing or two of men, girl. That one will follow you against an army with nothing but his bare hands.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was good to know. If she could not trust him, she would have to doubt Lini next. No, never Lini. He had sworn in the old way? That was something for stories, now. And she was letting her thoughts drift again. Surely Gaebril's clouding of her mind was finished now, with all she knew. Then why did apart of her still want to go back to her sitting room and wait? She had to concentrate.\n\n\"I will need a simple dress, Lini. One that does not fit too well. A little soot from the fireplace, and...\"\n\nLini insisted oncoming, too. Morgase would have had to tie her to a chair to leave her behind, and she was not certain that the old woman would have let herself be tied; she had always seemed frail, and had always been far stronger than she seemed.\n\nWhen they slipped out through a small side gate, Morgase did not look very much like herself. A bit of soot had darkened her redgold hair, taken its sheen away and made it lank. Sweat rolling down her face helped, as well. No one believed that queens sweated. A shapeless dress of rough-very rough-gray wool, with divided skirts, completed her disguise. Even her shift and stockings were coarse wool. She looked a farm woman who had ridden the carthorse to market and now wanted to see a little of the city. Lini looked herself, straightbacked and nononsense, in a green woolen riding dress, well cut but ten years out of fashion.\n\nWishing she could scratch, Morgase also wished that the other woman had not taken her so to heart about the dress not fitting very well. Stuffing the lownecked gown away under the bed, her old nurse had muttered some saying about displaying wares you did not mean to sell, and when Morgase claimed she had just made it up, her reply was At my age, if I make it up, it's still an old saying. Morgase more than halfsuspected that her itchy, illdraped dress was punishment for that gown." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Inner City was built on hills, streets following the natural curve of the land and planned to give sudden views of parks full of trees and monuments, or tilecovered towers glittering a hundred colors in the sun. Sudden rises hurled the eye across Caemlyn entire, to the rolling plains and forests beyond. Morgase saw none of it as she hurried through the crowds thronging the streets. Usually she would have tried to listen to the people, to gauge their mood. This time she heard only the hum and babble of a great city. She had no thought of trying to rouse them. Thousands of men armed mainly with stones and rage could overwhelm the Guards in the Royal Palace, but if she had not known it before, the riots in the spring that had brought Gaebril to her attention, and the near riots the year before, had shown what mobs could do. She meant to rule again in Caemlyn, not see it burned.\n\nBeyond the whitewalls of the Inner City, the New City had its own beauties. Tall slender towers, and domes gleaming white and gold, huge expanses of redtiled roofs, and the great, towered outer walls, pale gray streaked with silver and white. Broad boulevards, split down the middle by wide expanses of trees and grass, were jammed with people and carriages and wagons. Except to notice in passing that the grass was dying for lack of rain, Morgase kept her mind on what she was hunting.\n\nFrom the experience of her annual forays, she chose the people she questioned carefully. Men, mostly. She knew how she looked, even with soot in her hair, and some women would give wrong directions from jealousy. Men, on the other hand, racked their brains to be right, to impress her. None with too smug a face, or too rough. The first were often offended at being approached, as though they were not afoot themselves, and the others were likely to think a woman asking directions had something else on her mind." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One fellow with a chin too big for his face, hawking a tray of pins and needles, grinned at her and said, \"Did anyone ever tell you you look a mite like the Queen? Whatever mess she's made of us, she's a pretty one.\"\n\nShe gave him a raucous laugh that earned astern look from Lini. \"You save your flattery for your wife. The second turn to the left, you say? I thank you. And for the compliment, too.\"\n\nAs she pushed on through the crowd, a frown settled on her face. She had heard too much of that. Not that she looked like the Queen, but that Morgase had made a mess of things. Gaebril had raised taxes heavily to pay for his levies, it seemed, but she took the blame, and rightly so. The responsibility was the Queen's. Other laws had come out of the Palace, as well, laws that made little sense, but did make people's lives more difficult. She heard whispers about herself, that maybe Andor had had queens long enough. Only murmurs, but what one man dared speak in a low voice, ten thought. Perhaps it would not have been as easy as she had thought to rouse mobs against Gaebril.\n\nEventually she found her goal, abroad stone inn, the sign over the door bearing a man kneeling before a goldenhaired woman in the Rose Crown, one of her hands on his head. The Queen's Blessing. If it was meant to be her, it was not a good likeness. The cheeks were too fat.\n\nNot until she stopped in front of the inn did she realize that Lini was puffing. She had set a quick pace, and the woman was far from young. \"Lini, I am sorry. I should not have walked so-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If I can't keep up with you, girl, how will I be able to tend Elayne's babes? Do you mean to stand there? \"Dragging feet never finish a journey.\" He said he would be in the stable.\"\n\nThe whitehaired woman stalked off, muttering to herself, and Morgase followed her around the inn. Before stepping into the stone stable, she shaded her eyes to look at the sun. No more than two hours until dusk; Gaebril would be looking by then, if he was not already.\n\nTallanvor was not alone in the stalllined stable. When he went to one knee on the strawcovered floor, in a green wool coat with his sword belted over it, two men and a woman knelt with him, if a bit hesitantly, unsure of her as she was. The stout man, pinkfaced and balding, must be Basel Gill, the innkeeper. An old leather jerkin, studded with steel discs, strained around his girth, and he wore a sword at his hip, too.\n\n\"My Queen,\" Gill said, \"I've not carried a sword in years-not since the Aiel War-but I'd count it an honor if you allowed me to follow you.\" He should have looked ridiculous, but he did not.\n\nMorgase studied the other two, a hulking fellow in a rough gray coat, with heavylidded eyes, an oftbroken nose, and scars on his face, and a short, pretty woman approaching her middle years. She seemed to be with the street tough, but her highnecked blue wool dress appeared too finely woven for one like him to have bought.\n\nThe fellow sensed her doubts, for all his lazyeyed appearance. \"I am Lamgwin, my Queen, and a good Queen's man.\"Tisn't right, what's been done, and it has to be put straight. I want to follow you, too. Me and Breane, both.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Rise,\" she told them. \"It maybe some days yet before it is safe for you to acknowledge meas your queen. I will be glad of your company, Master Gill. And yours, Master Lamgwin, but it will be safer for your woman if she remains in Caemlyn. There are hard days ahead.\"\n\nBrushing straw from her skirts, Breane gave her a sharp look, and Lini a sharper. \"I have known hard days,\" she said in a Cairhienin accent. Nobly born, unless Morgase missed her guess; one of the refugees. \"And I never knew a good man until I found Lamgwin. Or until he found me. The loyalty and love he bears for you, I bear for him tenfold. He follows you, but I follow him. I will not stay behind.\"\n\nMorgase drew breath, then nodded her acceptance. The woman seemed to take it for granted in any case. A fine seed for the army to retake her throne: One young soldier who scowled at her as often as not, a balding innkeeper who looked as if he had not been on a horse in twenty years, a street tough who appeared more than halfasleep, and a refugee Cairhienin noblewoman who had made it clear that her loyalties went only as far as the tough. And Lini, of course. Lini, who treated her as though she were still in the nursery. Oh, yes, a very fine seed.\n\n\"Where do we go, my Queen?\" Gill asked as he began leading already saddled horses out of their stalls. Lamgwin moved with surprising speed to throw another highcantled saddle on a horse for Lini.\n\nMorgase realized that she had not considered that. Light, Gaebril can't still befogging my mind. She still felt that urge to return to her sitting room, though. It was not he. She had had to concentrate on getting out of the Palace and reaching here. Once she would have gone to Ellorien first, but Pelivar or Arathelle would do. Once she had reasoned out how to explain away their exiles." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Before she could open her mouth, Tallanvor said, \"It must be to Gareth Bryne. There is hard feeling against you among the great Houses, my Queen, but with Bryne following you, they will reswear allegiance, if only because they know he will win every battle.\"\n\nShe clamped her teeth shut to hold back instant refusal. Bryne was a traitor. But he was also one of the finest generals alive. His presence would be a convincing argument when she had to make Pelivar and the rest forget that she had exiled them. Very well. No doubt he would leap at the chance to be CaptainGeneral of the Queen's Guards once more. And if not, she would manage well enough without him.\n\nWhen the sun touched the horizon, they were five miles out of Caemlyn and riding hard for Kore Springs.\n\nNight was when Padan Fain felt most comfortable. Ashe padded through the tapestrybedecked corridors of the White Tower, it seemed as though the darkness outside made a cloak to hide him from his enemies, despite the standlamps, gilded and mirrored, burning along his way. A false feeling, he knew; his enemies were many and everywhere. Right that moment, as in every waking hour, he could feel Rand al'Thor. Not where he was, but that he was still alive, somewhere. Still alive. It was a gift received at Shayol Ghul, in the Pit of Doom, that awareness of al'Thor.\n\nHis mind skittered away from memories of what had been done to him in the Pit. He had been distilled there, remade. But later, in Aridhol, he had been reborn. Reborn to smite old enemies and new.\n\nHe could feel something else as he stalked the empty night hallways of the Tower, a thing that was his, stolen from him. A sharper desire drew him at this moment than his longing for al'Thor's death, or the Tower's destruction, or even revenge against his ancient foe. A hunger to be whole." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The heavy paneled door had thick hinges andiron straps, and a black iron lock set in it as big as his head." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Few doors in the Tower were ever locked-who would dare steal in the midst of Aes Sedai?-yet somethings the Tower accounted too dangerous to be easily accessible. The most dangerous of all they kept behind this door, guarded by a stout lock.\n\nGiggling softly, he took two thin, curved metal rods from his coat pocket, inserted them into the keyhole, probing and pressing, twisting. With a slow snap, the bolt came back. Fora moment he sagged against the door, laughing hoarsely. Guarded by a stout lock. Surrounded by Aes Sedai power, and guarded by simple metal. Even the servants and novices should be done with their chores at this hour, but someone still might be awake, might just wander by. Occasional ripples of mirth still shook him as he replaced the lockpicks in his pocket and took out a fat beeswax candle, lighting the wick at a nearby standlamp.\n\nHe held the candle high as he closed the door behind him, peering around. Shelves lined the walls, holding plain boxes and inlaid chests of various sizes and shapes, small figures in bone or ivory or darker material, things of metal and glass and crystal that sparkled in the candlelight. Nothing that appeared dangerous. Dust covered everything; even the Aes Sedai came here seldom, and they allowed no one else in. What he was seeking pulled him to it.\n\nOn a waisthigh shelf stood a dark metal box. He opened it, revealing lead walls two inches thick, with just enough space inside fora curved dagger in a golden sheath, a large ruby set in its hilt. Neither the gold nor the ruby, glittering dark as blood, interested him. Hastily he spilled a little wax to hold the candle beside the box and snatched up the dagger." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He sighed as soon as he touched it, stretched languorously." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He was whole again, one with what had bound him so long ago, one with what in a very real way had given him life.\n\nIron hinges creaked faintly, and he darted for the door, baring the curved blade. The pale young woman opening the door had only time to gape, to try to leap back, before he slashed her cheek; in the same motion he dropped the sheath and seized her arm, jerked her past him into the storeroom. Putting his head out, he peered up and down the hallway. Still empty.\n\nHe took his time about pulling his head back and shutting the door again. He knew what he would find.\n\nThe young woman lay thrashing on the stone floor, trying and failing to scream. Her hands clawed at a face already black and bloated beyond recognition, the dark swelling oozing down onto her shoulders like thick oil. Her snowy skirts, banded in colors at the hem, flailed as her feet scrabbled uselessly. He licked at a splash of blood on his hand and giggled as he picked up the sheath.\n\n\"You area fool.\"\n\nHe spun, dagger reaching, but the air around him seemed to turn solid, encasing him from his neck to the sole of his boots. He hung there, on the balls of his feet, dagger extended to stab, staring at Alviarin as she shut the door behind her and leaned against it to study him. There had been no creak this time. The soft scraping of the dying girl's slippers on the floorstones could never have masked it. He blinked away sweat that was suddenly stinging his eyes.\n\n\"Did you really think,\" the Aes Sedai went on, \"that there would be no guard on this room, no watch kept? Award was set on that lock. That young fool's task tonight was to monitor it. Had she done as she was supposed to, you would find a dozen Warders and as many Aes Sedai outside this door now. She is paying the price of her stupidity.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The thrashing behind him stilled, and his eyes narrowed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Alviarin was not Yellow Ajah, but even so she could have made an attempt to Heal the young woman. And she had not raised the alarm the Accepted should have, either, or she would not now be here alone. \"You are Black Ajah,\" he whispered.\n\n\"A dangerous accusation,\" she said calmly. It was not clear to which of them it was dangerous. \"Siuan Sanche tried to claim the Black Ajah was real when she was under the question. She begged to tell us of them. Elaida would not hear it, and will not. Tales of the Black Ajah area vile slander against the Tower.\"\n\n\"You are Black Ajah,\" he said in a louder voice.\n\n\"You want to steal that?\" She sounded as though he had not spoken. \"The ruby is not worth it, Fain. Or whatever your name is. That blade is tainted so none but a fool would touch it except with tongs, or be near it fora moment longer than necessary. You can see what it did to Verine. So why did you come here and go straight to what you should not have known was here? You cannot have had time for any search.\"\n\n\"I could dispose of Elaida for you. One touch of this, and even Healing will not save her.\" He tried to gesture with the dagger, but could not budge it a hair, if he could have moved it, Alviarin would be dead by now. \"You could be first in the Tower, not second.\"\n\nShe laughed at him, cool contemptuous chimes. \"Do you think I would not be first if I had wished it? Second suits me. Let Elaida claim credit for what she calls successes, and sweat for her failures, too. I know where the power lies. Now, answer my questions, or two corpses will be found herein the morning instead of one.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There would be two in any case, whether he answered her with suitable lies or not; she did not mean to let him live. \"I have seen Thakan'dar.\" Saying that hurt; the memories it brought were agony. He refused to whimper, forced the words out. \"The great sea of fog, rolling and crashing in silence against the black cliffs, the fires of the forges glowing red beneath, and lightning stabbing up into a sky fit to drive men mad.\" He did not want to goon, but he made himself. \"I have taken the path down to the belly of Shayol Ghul, down the long way with stones like fangs brushing my head, to the shore of a lake of fire and molten rock-\" No, not again! \"-that holds the Great Lord of the Dark in its endless depths. The heavens above Shayol Ghul are black at noon with his breath.\"\n\nAlviarin was standing upright now, eyes wide. Not fearful, but impressed. \"I have heard of...\" she began softly, then shook herself and stared at him piercingly. \"Who are you? Why are you here? Did one of the For-the Chosen send you? Why was I not informed?\"\n\nHe threw back his head and laughed. \"Are the tasks given to the likes of me for the likes of you to be knowing?\" The accents of his native Lugard were strong again; in away it was his native city. \"Do the Chosen confide everything in you, then?\" Something inside seemed to shout that this was not the way, but he hated Aes Sedai, and that something inside him did, too. \"Be careful, pretty little Aes Sedai, or they'll be giving you to a Myrddraal for its sport.\"\n\nHer glare was icicles stabbing his eyes. \"We shall see, Master Fain. I will clear away this mess you have made, and then we shall see which of us stands higher with the Chosen.\" Eyeing the dagger, she backed from the room. The air around him did not soften until she had been gone a full minute." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Silently he snarled at himself." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fool. Playing the Aes Sedai's game, groveling for them; then one moment of anger to ruin all. Sheathing the dagger, he nicked himself, and licked the wound before sticking the weapon under his coat. He was not at all what she thought. He had been a Darkfriend once, but he was beyond that, now. Beyond it, above it. Something different. Something more. If she managed to communicate with one of the Forsaken before he could dispose of her... Better not to try. No time to find the Horn of Valere now. There were followers awaiting him outside the city. They should still be waiting. He had put fear into them. He hoped some of the humans were still alive.\n\nBefore the sun rose he was out of the Tower, off the island of Tar Valon. Al'Thor was out there, somewhere. And he was whole again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jangai Pass\n\nUnder the looming Spine of the World, Rand guided Jeade'en up the stony slope from the foothills that began the foot of Jangai Pass. The Dragonwall pierced the sky, dwarfing all other mountains, its snowcapped peaks defying the baking afternoon sun. The tallest thrust well above clouds that mocked the Waste with promises of rain that had never come. Rand could not imagine why a man would want to climb a mountain, but it was said that men who had tried to scale these heights turned back, overcome with fear and unable to breathe. He could well believe that a man might grow too afraid to breathe, attempting to climb so high.\n\n\"... yet though the Cairhienin are consumed with the Game of Houses,\" Moiraine was saying at his shoulder, \"they will follow you so long as they know that you are strong. Be firm with them, but I would ask you to be fair also. A ruler who gives true justice...\"\n\nHe tried to ignore her, as he did the other riders, and the creak and rumble of Kadere's wagons, making heavy going further back. The broken gorges and gullies of the Waste were behind them, but these rugged rising hills, nearly as barren, were little better for wagons. No one had traveled this path in over twenty years.\n\nMoiraine talked at him that way from daybreak to sunset whenever he let her. Her lectures could be on small things-details of court behavior, say, in Cairhien or Saldaea or somewhere else-or on large: the political influence of the Whitecloaks, or perhaps the effects of trade on rulers'decisions to go to war. It was as if she meant to see him educated, as a noble would be, or should be, before he reached the other side of the mountains. It was surprising how often what she said reflected what anyone back in Emond's Field would have called simple commonsense. And also how often it did not." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Occasionally she came outwith something startling; for instance, that he should trust no woman of the Tower except herself, Egwene, Elayne and Nynaeve, or the news that Elaida was now the Amyrlin Seat. Oath to obey or no, she would not tell him how she knew that. She said it was someone else's place to tell if she chose, someone else's secret, and she could not usurp it. He suspected the Wise One dreamwalkers, though they had stared him right in the eye and refused to say aye or nay. He wished he could make them swear Moiraine's oath; they interfered between him and the chiefs continually, as if they wanted him to go through them to reach the chiefs.\n\nRight that minute he did not want to think about Elaida or the Wise Ones, or listen to Moiraine. Now he wanted to study the pass ahead, a deep gap in the mountains that twisted as though a blunt axe had tried to chop through again and again, never quite succeeding. A few minutes hard ride, and he could be in it.\n\nOn one side of the pass mouth a sheer cliff had been smoothed over a hundredpace width and carved, a windweathered snake entwining a staff a good three hundred spans high; monument or marker or ruler's sigil, it surely dated from some lost nation before Artur Hawkwing, perhaps even before the Trolloc Wars. He had seen remnants before from nations long vanished; often even Moiraine did not know their source.\n\nHigh on the other side, so far up that he was not sure he was seeing what he thought, just below the snowline, stood something even stranger. Something that made the first monument of a few thousand years a commonplace. He could have sworn it was the remnants of shattered buildings, shining gray against the darker mountain, and stranger still, what appeared to be a dock of the same material, as for ships, slanting drunkenly down the mountain. If he was not imagining it, that had to date from before the Breaking. The face of the world had been changed utterly in those years. This could well have been an ocean's floor, before. He would have to ask Asmodean. Even if he had had the time, he did not think he would want to try reaching that altitude to find out for himself." }, { "from": "human", "value": "At the foot of the huge snake lay Taien, a highwalled town of moderate size, a remnant itself, of the time when Cairhien had been allowed to send caravans across the Threefold Land, and wealth had flowed from Shara along the Silk Path." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There appeared to be birds above the town, and dark blotches at regular intervals along the gray stonewalls. Mat stood in Pips'stirrups, shading his eyes with that broadbrimmed hat to peer up the pass, frowning. Lan's hard face wore no expression at all, yet he appeared just as intent; a gust of wind, a little cooler here, whipped his colorshifting cloak around him, and fora moment all of him from shoulders to boots seemed to blend into the rocky hills and sparse thornbushes.\n\n\"Are you listening tome?\" Moiraine said suddenly, reining her white mare closer. \"You must-!\" She took a deep breath. \"Please, Rand. There is so much that I must tell you, so much that you need to know.\"\n\nThe hint of pleading in her tone made him glance at her. He could remember when he had been overawed by her presence. Now she seemed quite small, for all her regal manner. A fool thing, that he should feel protective of her. \"There is plenty of time ahead of us, Moiraine,\" he said gently. \"I don't pretend to think I know as much of the world as you. I mean to keep you close from now on.\" He barely realized how great a change that was from when she was keeping him close. \"But I have something else on my mind right now.\"\n\n\"Of course.\" She sighed. \"As you wish. We have plenty of time yet.\"\n\nRand heeled the dappled gray stallion to a trot, and the others followed. The wagons quickened, too, though they could not keep upon the slope. Asmodean's-Jasin Natael's-patchcovered gleeman's cloak rippled behind him like the banner he carried at his stirrup, brilliant red with the whiteandblack symbol of the ancient Aes Sedai at its center. His face wore a sullen glower; he had not been best pleased at having to be the bannerman. Under that sign he would conquer, the Prophecy of Rhuidean said, and perhaps it would not frighten the world so much as the Dragon Banner, Lews Therin's banner, that he had left flying over the Stone of Tear. Few would know this sign." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The blotches on the walls of Taien were bodies, contorted in their final agonies, bloated in the sun and hanging by their necks in a row that seemed to encircle the town. The birds were glossy black ravens, and vultures with their heads and necks befouled. Some ravens perched on corpses, gorging, unconcerned for the new arrivals. The sickly sweet stench of corruption hung in the dry air, and the acrid smell of char. Ironstrapped gates stood gaping open on an expanse of ruin, sootstreaked stone houses and collapsed roofs. Nothing moved except the birds.\n\nLike Mar Ruois. He tried to shake the thought away, but in his head he could see that great city after it was retaken, immense towers blackened and collapsing, the remains of great bonfires at every street crossing, where those who had refused to swear to the Shadow had been bound and thrown alive to the flames. He knew whose memory it had to be, though he had not discussed it with Moiraine. I am Rand al'Thor. Lews Therin Telamon is dead three thousand years. I am myself! That was one battle he meant to win. If he did have to die at Shayol Ghul, he would die as himself. He made himself think of something else.\n\nHalf a month since he had left Rhuidean. Half a month, though the Aiel had set apace afoot from sunup to sundown that wearied the horses. But Couladin had been moving this way a week before he learned of it. If they had not managed to close any ground, he would have that long to ravage Cairhien before Rand could reach it. Longer, before the Shaido could be brought to bay. Not a much happier thought." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"There's someone watching us from those rocks to the left,\" Lan said quietly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He seemed to be completely engrossed in studying what remained of Taien. \"Not Aiel, or I doubt I would have seen a glimmer.\"\n\nRand was glad that he had made Egwene and Aviendha stay with the Wise Ones. The town gave him anew reason, but the watcher fit in with his original plan, when he had hoped that Taien had escaped. Egwene still wore the same Aiel clothes as Aviendha, and Aiel would not have been very welcome in Taien. They were even less likely to be welcome among the survivors.\n\nHe looked back at the wagons drawing to a halt a short distance downslope. Mutters drifted up from the drivers now that they could seethe town clearly, and the wall's decorations. Kadere, his bulk all in white again today, mopped at his hawknosed face with a large kerchief; he appeared unperturbed, merely pursing his lips thoughtfully.\n\nRand expected that Moiraine would have to find new drivers once they were through the pass. Kadere and his crew would likely flee as soon as they had the chance. And he would have to let them go. It was not right-it was not justice-but it was necessary to protect Asmodean. How long now had he been doing what was necessary instead of what was right? Ina fair world, they would be one and the same. That made him laugh, a hoarse wheeze. He was far from the village boy he had been, but sometimes that boy sneaked upon him. The others looked at him, and he fought the urge to tell them that he was not mad yet.\n\nLong minutes passed before two coatless men and a woman emerged from the rocks, all three ragged and dirty and barefoot. They approached hesitantly, heads tilted uneasily, eyes darting from rider to rider, to the wagons and back, as though they might take flight at a shout. Gaunt cheeks and wavering steps spoke of hunger." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Thank the Light,\" one of the men said finally." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He was grayhaired-none of the three was young-his face deeply creased. His eyes lingered a moment on Asmodean, with falls of lace at collar and cuffs, but the leader of this train would not be riding a mule and carrying a banner. It was Rand's stirrup that he clutched anxiously. \"The Light be praised that you came out of those terrible lands alive, my Lord.\" That might have been Rand's blue silk coat, embroidered in gold on the shoulders, or the banner, or simple flattery. The man certainly had no reason to think them other than merchants, if well dressed for it. \"Those murdering savages have risen again. It is another Aiel War. They were over the wall in the night before anybody knew, killing everyone who raised a hand, stealing everything not mortared in place.\"\n\n\"In the night?\" Mat said sharply. Hat pulled low, he was still studying the ruined town. \"Were your sentries asleep? You did have sentries this close to your enemies? Even Aiel would have a hard time coming at you if you kept a good watch.\" Lan gave him an appraising look.\n\n\"No, my Lord.\" The grayhaired man blinked at Mat, then gave his answer to Rand. Mat's green coat was fine enough fora lord, but it hung open and looked slept in. \"We... We had only a watchman at each gate. It has been long since any have even seen one of the savages. But this time... Whatever they did not steal, they burned, and drove us out to starve. Filthy animals!\"Thank the Light you have come to save us, my Lord, or we would all have died here. I am Tal Nethin. I am-I was-a saddlemaker. A good one, my Lord. This is my sister Aril, and her husband, Ander Corl. He makes fine boots.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"They stole people too, my Lord,\" the woman said, her voice raw. Somewhat younger than her brother, she might have been handsome once, but haggard worry had etched lines in her face that Rand suspected would never entirely go away. Her husband had a lost look in his eyes, as if not exactly sure where he was. \"My daughter, my Lord, and my son. They took all the young ones, everyone above sixteen, and some twice that or more. Said they were guysomething, and stripped them naked right in the street and herded them off. My Lord, can you...?\" She trailed off, eyes squeezing shut as the impossibility overwhelmed her, swaying. Small odds that she would ever see her children again.\n\nMoiraine was out of her saddle in an instant and by Aril's side. The haggard woman gave aloud gasp as soon as the Aes Sedai's hands touched her, shivering to her toetips. Her wondering look turned to Moiraine questioningly, but Moiraine only held her as if supporting her.\n\nThe woman's husband suddenly gaped, staring at Rand's gilded belt buckle, the gift from Aviendha. \"His arms were marked like that. Like that. All twined around, like the cliff snake.\"\n\nTal looked up at Rand uncertainly. \"The savages' leader, my Lord. He-had markings like that on his arms. He wore those strange clothes they all do, but he had his coatsleeves cutoff, and he made sure everybody saw.\"\n\n\"A gift I received in the Waste,\" Rand said. He made sure to keep his hands still on his pommel; his coatsleeves hid his own Dragons, except for the heads; they would be visible on the backs of his hands to anyone who looked closely. He had forgotten about wondering what Moiraine had actually done, and all three looked on the point of running. \"How long since they left?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Six days, my Lord,\" Tal said uneasily. \"They did what they did in a night and a day and were gone the next. We would have gone, too, but what if we met them coming back? Surely they were turned back at Selean?\" That was the town at the other end of the pass. Rand doubted that Selean was in any better condition than Taien by this time.\n\n\"How many survivors are there besides you three?\"\n\n\"Maybe a hundred, my Lord. Maybe more. Nobody has counted.\"\n\nAbruptly anger flared in him, though he tried to hold it down. \"A hundred of you?\" His voice was icy iron. \"And six days? Then why are your dead left for the ravens? Why do corpses still decorate your town walls? Those are your people filling your nostrils with their stink!\" Huddling together, the three backed away from his horse.\n\n\"We were afraid, my Lord,\" Tal said hoarsely. \"They went, but they could comeback. And he told us... The one with the markings on his arms told us not to touch anything.\"\n\n\"A message,\" Ander said in a dull voice. \"He chose them out to hang, just pulling them out until he had enough to line the wall. Men, women, he did not care.\" His eyes were fixed on Rand's buckle. \"He said they were a message for some man who would be following him. He said he wanted this man to know... know what they were going to do on the other side of the Spine. He said... He said he would do worse to this man.\"\n\nAril's eyes widened suddenly, and the three stared beyond Rand fora moment, gaping. Then, screaming, they turned and ran. Blackveiled Aiel rose from the rocks they had come from, and they darted off in another direction. Veiled Aiel appeared there, too, and they collapsed to the ground, sobbing and holding each other as they were surrounded. Moiraine's face was cool and composed, but her eyes were not serene." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand twisted in his saddle. Rhuarc and Dhearic were coming up the slope, unveiling themselves and unwrapping the shoufa from around their heads. Dhearic was thicker than Rhuarc, with a prominent nose and paler streaks through his golden hair. He had brought the Reyn Aiel as Rhuarc had said he would.\n\nTimolan and his Miagoma had been paralleling them to the north for three days, exchanging occasional messengers but giving no clue to his intentions. The Codarra and the Shiande and the Daryne were still somewhere to the east; following, so Amys and the others said from dreamtalking to their Wise Ones, but slowly. Those Wise Ones had no more idea of their clan chiefs'aims than Rand did of Timolan's.\n\n\"Was that necessary?\" he said as the two chiefs came up to him. He had frightened the people first, but for cause, and had not made them think that they were going to die.\n\nRhuarc simply shrugged, and Dhearic said, \"We put spears in place around this hold unseen, as you wished, and there seemed no reason to wait since no one remained hereto dance spears. Besides, they are only treekillers.\"\n\nRand drew a deep breath. He had known this might be as large a problem as Couladin, in its own way. Nearly five hundred years ago the Aiel had presented Cairhien with a sapling, a cutting from Avendesora, and with it aright granted to no other nation, to trade across the Threefold Land to Shara. They had given no reason-they did not like wetlanders very much at the best-but to the Aiel it had been required by ji'e\"toh. During the long years of journey that had brought them to the Waste, only one people had not attacked them, only one had allowed them water uncontested when the world grew parched. And finally they had found the descendants of those people. The Cairhienin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "For five hundred years riches had flowed into Cairhien with the silk and the ivory." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Five hundred years, and Avendoraldera grew in Cairhien. And then King Laman had the tree cut down to make a throne. The nations knew why the Aiel had crossed the Spine of the World twenty years ago-Laman's Sin, they called it, and Laman's Pride-but few knew that to the Aiel it had not been a war. Four clans had come to find an oathbreaker, and when they had killed him, they returned to the Threefold Land. But their contempt for the treekillers, the oathbreakers, had never died. Moiraine being Aes Sedai offset her being Cairhienin, but Rand was never sure how much.\n\n\"These folk broke no oaths,\" he told them. \"Find the others; the saddlemaker says there are about a hundred. And be gentle with them. If any of them were watching, they're probably running away into the mountains by now.\" The two Aiel started to turn away, and he added, \"Did you hear what they told me? What do you think of what Couladin did here?\"\n\n\"They killed more than they had to,\" Dhearic said with a disgusted shake of his head. \"Like black ferrets falling on rockhens' nests in a gully.\" Killing was as easy as dying, so the Aiel said; any fool could do either.\n\n\"And the other thing? Taking prisoners. Gai'shain.\"\n\nRhuarc and Dhearic exchanged looks, and Dhearic's mouth tightened. Clearly they had heard, and it made them uncomfortable. It took a great deal to make an Aiel uncomfortable.\n\n\"It cannot be so,\" Rhuarc said at last. \"If it is... Gai'shain is a thing of ji'e\"toh. No one can be made gai'shain who does not follow ji'e\"toh, else they are only human animals, such as the Sharans keep.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Couladin has abandoned ji'e\"toh.\" Dhearic sounded as though he were saying stones had grown wings.\n\nMat guided Pips closer, using his knees. He had never been more than an indifferent rider, but sometimes, when he was thinking of something else, he rode as though born on a horse's back. \"That surprises you?\" he said. \"After everything he has done already? The man would cheat at dice with his mother.\"\n\nThey gave him flateyed stares, like blue stones. In many ways, Aiel were ji'e\"toh. And whatever else Couladin was, he was still Aiel in their eyes. Sept before clan, clan before outsiders, but Aiel before wetlanders.\n\nSome of the Maidens joined them, Enaila and Jolien and Adelin, and wiry, whitehaired Sulin, who had been chosen roofmistress of the Roof of the Maidens in Rhuidean. She had told the Maidens who stayed to choose another, and now she led the Maidens here. They sensed the mood, and said nothing, only grounded their spearpoints patiently. An Aiel who wanted to could make the rocks look hasty.\n\nLan broke the silence. \"If Couladin expects you to be following him, he may have left a surprise somewhere in the pass. A hundred men could hold some of those narrows against an army. A thousand...\"\n\n\"We will camp here, then,\" Rand said, \"and send scouts ahead to make sure the way is clear. Duadhe Mahdi'in?\"\n\n\"Water Seekers,\" Dhearic agreed, sounding pleased. That had been his society before he became clan chief.\n\nSulin and the other Maidens gave Rand flat stares as the Reyn chief walked away downslope. He had chosen scouts from other societies for the last three days, when he had begun to fear what he might find here, and he had the feeling they knew he was not just giving the others their turns. He tried to ignore their looks. Sulin's was especially difficult; the woman could have driven nails with those pale blue eyes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Rhuarc, once the survivors are found, see that they're fed. And well treated. We will take them with us.\" His gaze was drawn to the town wall. Some Aiel were already using their curved horn bows to kill ravens. Sometimes Shadowspawn used ravens and other animals that fed on death as spies; Shadoweyes, the Aiel called them. These barely paused in the frenzied feeding until they fell transfixed with an arrow, but a wise man did not take chances with ravens or rats. \"And see that the dead are buried.\" At least in that, right and necessity were the same." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Gift of a Blade\n\nThe camp began to go up quickly, in the mouth of Jangai Pass, if away from Taien, and spreading over the hills around the approaches, among the scattered thornbushes, and even onto the slopes of the mountains. Not that anything was very visible except what was inside the pass; Aiel tents blended into the stony soil so well that you could miss them even when you knew what you were looking for and where. In the hills the Aiel camped by clan, but those in the pass itself grouped themselves by society. They were mostly Maidens, but the men's societies sent their representatives, too, some fifty each, spreading tents well above the ruins of Taien in slightly separated camps. Everyone understood, or thought they did, about the Maidens carrying Rand's honor, but all societies wanted to guard the Car'a\"carn.\n\nMoiraine-and Lan, of course-went to get Kadere's wagons settled, just below the town; the Aes Sedai fussed over what was in those wagons nearly as much as she did over Rand. The drivers muttered and cursed about the town's smell, and avoided watching the Aiel cut bodies down from the wall, but after their months in the Waste, they seemed to like being close even to the wreckage of what they saw as civilization.\n\nGai'shain were erecting the Wise Ones\" tents-those of Amys and Bair and Melaine-below the town, astride the faded track that led up out of the hills. Rand was sure they would say they had chosen the spot to be available to him as well as to the countless dozens of Wise Ones below, but he thought it no coincidence that anyone coming up from the hills to him would have to go through or around their camp to reach him. He was a little surprised to see Melaine directing the whiterobed figures. Only three nights before, she had married Bael, in a ceremony that made her his wife and firstsister to his other wife, Dorindha. That part had been just as important as the marriage, apparently; Aviendha had been shocked at his surprise, or maybe angry." }, { "from": "human", "value": "When Egwene arrived with Aviendha up behind heron the gray mare, those full skirts pushed above their knees, they looked a matched pair despite their different coloring and Aviendha being tall enough to look over Egwene's shoulder without stretching, each with just one ivory bracelet and one necklace." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The work of removing the hanged corpses had barely begun. Most of the ravens lay dead, bundles of black feathers littering the ground, and the rest had flown, but vultures too gorged to flap aloft still waddled through the ashes inside the walls.\n\nRand wished that there was someway he could keep the two women from having to see, but to his surprise, neither went running to empty her stomach. Well, he had not really expected anything of the sort from Aviendha; she had seen death often enough, and dealt it out, too, and her face remained expressionless. But he had not expected the pure pity in Egwene's eyes as she gazed at the bloated dead coming down.\n\nShe drew Mist over to Jeade'en and leaned to put a hand on his arm. \"I am so sorry, Rand. There was noway you could have stopped this.\"\n\n\"I know,\" he told her. He had not even known there was a town here until Rhuarc mentioned it casually five days ago-his councils with the chiefs had all been on whether they could cover more ground in a day, and what Couladin would do when he cleared the Jangai-and by that time the Shaido had finished here and gone. He had done with cursing himself fora fool then.\n\n\"Well, just you remember it. It was not your fault.\" She heeled Mist on, and began talking to Aviendha before she was out of earshot. \"I am glad he is taking it so well. He has the habit of feeling guilty over things he cannot control.\"\n\n\"Men always believe they are in control of everything around them,\" Aviendha replied. \"When they find out they are not, they think they have failed, instead of learning a simple truth women already know.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Egwene giggled. \"That is the simple truth. Once I saw those poor people, I thought we would find him heaving somewhere.\"\n\n\"Is his stomach so tender? I...\"\n\nTheir voices faded away as the mare ambled on. Rand pulled himself back upright in the saddle, flushing. Trying to eavesdrop on them; he was behaving like an idiot. That did not stop him frowning at their departing backs. He only took responsibility for what he was accountable for, if only to himself. Just for things he could do something about. And what he should have done something about. He did not like them talking about him. Behind his back, or under his nose. The Light only knew what they were saying.\n\nDismounting, he led Jeade'en in search of Asmodean, who seemed to have wandered off. After so many days in the saddle, it was good to walk. Various clusters of tents were springing up along the pass; the mountain slopes and cliffs made formidable barriers, but the Aiel still arranged themselves as if they could expect attack from them. He had tried walking with the Aiel, but half a day was enough to put him back on the horse. It was hard enough to keep up with them mounted; they could wear out horses when they pressed.\n\nMat was down, too, squatting with his reins in one hand and that blackhafted spear across his knees, peering at the gaping gates, studying the town and muttering to himself while Pips tried to nibble at a thornbush. Mat was studying, not just staring. Where had that remark about sentries come from? Mat said odd things at times now, since their first visit to Rhuidean. Rand wished that he were willing to talk about what had happened, but he still denied that anything had, despite the foxhead medallion, the spear, and that scar around his neck. Melindhra, the Shaido Maiden that Mat had taken up with, was off to one side, watching Mat, until Sulin came and chased her away on some errand. Rand wondered if Mat knew the Maidens were laying bets on whether Melindhra would give up the spear for him. And on whether she would teach him to sing, too, though they only laughed when Rand asked what that meant." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The sound of music drew him to Asmodean, seated by himself on a granite outcrop with his harp on his knee." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The crimson banner's staff had been twisted into the rocky soil, and the mule tethered to it. \"You see, my Lord Dragon,\" he said cheerfully, \"your bannerman keeps loyally to his duties.\" His voice and expression changed, and he said, \"If you must have this thing, why not let Mat carry it, or Lan? Or Moiraine, for that matter? She would be glad to carry your banner, and clean your boots. Be careful of her. She is a devious woman. When a woman says she will obey you, of her own will, it is time to sleep lightly and watch your back.\"\n\n\"You carry it because you were chosen, Master Jasin Natael.\" Asmodean gave a start and looked around, though everyone else was too faraway, and too busy, to be listening. None but they two would have understood, anyway. \"What do you know about those ruins up near the snowline? They must come from the Age of Legends.\"\n\nAsmodean did not even glance up the mountain. \"This world is very changed from the world I... went to sleep in.\" He sounded weary, and he shivered slightly. \"What I know of what lies where, I have learned since waking.\" The mournful sounds of'The March of Death\" rose from his harp. \"That could be what is left of the city where I was born, for all I know. Shorelle was a port.\"\n\nThe sun had maybe an hour before the Spine of the World hid it; this close to high mountains, night came early. \"I am too tired for one of our discussions tonight.\" That was what they called Asmodean's lessons in public, even when no one was around. Added to practice sessions with Lan or Rhuarc, those lessons had left him little time for sleep since leaving Rhuidean. \"You take to your tent when you're ready, and I will see you in the morning. With the banner.\" There was no one else to carry the bloody thing. Maybe he could find somebody in Cairhien." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ashe was turning away, Asmodean plucked something discordant and said, \"No burning nets woven around my tent tonight? Do you finally begin to trust me?\"\n\nRand looked back over his shoulder. \"I trust you like a brother. Until the day you betray me. You have a parole for what you've done, in return for your teaching, and a better bargain than you deserve, but the day you turn against me, I will tear it up and bury it with you.\" Asmodean opened his mouth, but Rand forestalled him. \"That is me talking, Natael. Rand al'Thor. Two Rivers folk don't like people who try to stab them in the back.\"\n\nIrritably, he pulled at the dapple's reins and went on before the other man could say anything. He was not sure whether Asmodean had any inkling that a dead man was trying to take him over, but he should not let himself give the man hints. Asmodean was sure enough already that his was a helpless cause; if he began to think that Rand was not in full control of his own mind, perhaps that he was going mad, the Forsaken would abandon him in a heartbeat, and there was too much Rand had to learn yet.\n\nWhiterobed gai'shain were erecting his tent under Aviendha's direction, well into the pass mouth, with that huge carved snake rearing above. The gai'shain had their own tents, but those would be the last erected, of course. Adelin and a dozen or so Maidens squatted nearby, watching, waiting to guard his sleep. Even with over a thousand Maidens encamped around him every night, they still put a guard on his tent.\n\nBefore approaching, he reached out through the angreal in his coat pocket to seize saidin. There was no need to actually touch the carving of the fat little man with a sword, of course. Mingled filth and sweetness filled him, that raging river of fire, that crushing avalanche of ice. Channeling as he had done every night since leaving Rhuidean, he set wards around the entire encampment, not only what was in the pass but every tent in the hills below as well, and on the slopes of the mountains. He needed the angreal to set wardings so large, but only just. He had thought that he was strong before, but Asmodean's teachings were making him stronger. No human or animal crossing the line of that ward would notice anything, but Shadowspawn that touched it would sound a warning that everyone in the tents would hear. Had he done this in Rhuidean, the Darkhounds could never have entered without him knowing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Aiel themselves would have to keep watch for human enemies." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Wardings were complex weaves, if tenuous, and trying to make them do more than one thing could render them useless, in practicality. He could have made this one to kill Shadowspawn instead of merely giving warning, but that would have been like a beacon to any male Forsaken who might be searching, and to Myrddraal, too. No need to bring his enemies down on him when they might not know where he was. This, even one of the Forsaken would not know until he was close, and a Myrddraal not until it was too late.\n\nLetting goof saidin was an exercise in selfcontrol, despite the foulness of the taint, despite the way the Power tried to scour him away like sand on a riverbed, to burn him, obliterate him. He floated in the vast emptiness of the Void, yet he could feel the air stirring against each hair on his head, seethe weave of the gai'shain's robes, smell Aviendha's warm scent. He wanted more. But he could smell the ashes of Taien, too, smell the who had been burned, the corruption of those who not, even the ones already buried, mingled with the soil of their graves. That helped. Fora while after it was gone, all he did was take deep breaths of hot, arid air; compared to before, the whiff of death seemed absent, and the air itself pure and wonderful.\n\n\"Look what was here before us,\" Aviendha said as he let a meekfaced whiterobed woman take Jeade'en. She held up a brown snake, dead, but as thick as his forearm and nearly three paces long. The bloodsnake took its name from the effect of its bite, turning the blood to jelly in minutes. Unless he missed his guess, the neat wound behind its head had come from her belt knife. Adelin and the other Maidens looked approving." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Did you ever for one minute think that it could have bitten you?\" he said. \"Did you ever think of using the Power instead of a bloody belt knife? Why didn't you kiss it first? You had to be close enough.\"\n\nShe drew herself up, and her big green eyes should have brought on the night's chill early. \"The Wise Ones say it is not good to use the Power too often.\" The clipped words were as cold as her eyes. \"They say it is possible to draw too much and harm yourself.\" Frowning slightly, she added, more to herself than him, \"Though I have not come near what I can hold yet. I am sure of it.\"\n\nShaking his head, he ducked into the tent. The woman would not listen to reason.\n\nNo sooner had he settled himself against a silk cushion near the still unlit fire than she followed him. Without the bloodsnake, thankfully, but gingerly carrying something long wrapped in thick layers of graystriped blanket. \"You were worried for me,\" she said in a flat voice. There was no expression at all on her face.\n\n\"Of course not,\" he lied. Fool woman. She'll get herself killed yet because she doesn't have the sense to be careful when it's needed. \"I'd have been as worried for anyone. I would not want anyone bitten by a bloodsnake.\"\n\nFora moment she eyed him doubtfully, then gave a quick nod. \"Good. So long as you do not presume toward me.\" Tossing the bundled blanket at his feet, she sat on her heels across the firepit from him. \"You would not accept the buckle as canceling debt between us...\"\n\n\"Aviendha, there is no debt.\" He thought that she had forgotten about that. She went on as if he had not spoken." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"... but perhaps that will cancel it.\"\n\nSighing, he unwrapped the striped blanket-warily, since she had held it far more uneasily than she had the snake; she had held the bloody snake as if it were apiece of cloth-unwrapped it, and gasped. What lay inside was a sword, the scabbard so encrusted with rubies and moonstones that it was hard to seethe gold except where arising sun of many rays had been inset. The ivory hilt, long enough for two hands, had another inlaid rising sun in gold; the pommel was thick with rubies and moonstones, and still more made a solid mass along the quillons. This had never been made to use, only to be seen. To be stared at.\n\n\"This must have cost... Aviendha, how could you pay for it?\"\n\n\"It cost little,\" she said, so defensively that she might as well have added that she lied.\n\n\"A sword. How did you ever come by a sword? How did any Aiel come by a sword? Don't tell me Kadere had this hidden in his wagons.\"\n\n\"I carried it in a blanket.\" She sounded even more touchy now than she had about the price. \"Even Bair said that would make it all right, so long as I did not actually touch it.\" She shrugged uncomfortably, shifting and reshifting her shawl. \"It was the treekiller's sword. Laman's. It was taken from his body as proof that he was dead, because his head could not be brought back so far. Since then it has passed from hand to hand, young men or fool Maidens who wanted to own the proof of his death. Only, each began to think of what it was, and soon sold it to another fool. The price has comedown very far since it first was sold. No Aiel would lay hand to it even to remove the stones.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Take the role of the writer's aide, proceed with the narrative.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, war\nAuthor: Robert Jordan\nTitle: The Fires of Heaven\nChapter: 18" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sighing, Min took Logain's arm and led him to the table, sat him down on a rough bench and took a shaky ladderback chair herself. Two of the Warders positioned themselves nearby, leaning against the wall. They did not appear to be watching Logain, but Min knew the Gaidin; they saw everything, and they could have their swords out in less than a heartbeat while sleeping.\n\nSo there were to be no open arms in welcome, even with Siuan and Leane recognized. Well, what did she expect? Siuan and Leane had been the two most powerful women in the White Tower; now they were not even Aes Sedai. The others very likely did not know how to behave toward them. And appearing with a gentled false Dragon. Siuan had better not belying or wishing about having a plan for him. Min did not think Sheriam and the others would be as patient as Logain had been.\n\nAnd Sheriam, at least, had recognized her. She stood again, long enough to peer through a crackpaned window into the street. Their horses were still at the hitching posts, but one of those Warders who were not watching would have her before she had Wildrose's reins untied. This last time in the Tower, Siuan had gone to great lengths to disguise her. To no end, it seemed. She did not think any of them knew about her viewings, though. Siuan and Leane had held that tightly to themselves. Min would be just as glad if it remained that way. If these Aes Sedai learned of it, they would entangle her just as Siuan had, and she would never reach Rand. She was not going to be able to showoff what she had learned from Leane if they kept heron a leash here." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Helping Siuan find this gathering, helping bring Aes Sedai to Rand's Aiel, was all very well and important, but she still had a personal goal. Making a man who had never looked at her twice fall in love with her before he went mad. Maybe she was as mad as he was fated to be. \"Then we'll make a matched pair,\" she muttered to herself.\n\nA freckled, greeneyed girl who had to be a novice stopped at her table. \"Would you like something to eat or drink? There is venison stew, and wild pears. There might be some cheese, too.\" She put so much effort into not looking at Logain that she might as well have stared popeyed.\n\n\"Pears and cheese sound very good,\" Min told her. The last two days had been hungry; Siuan had managed to catch some fish in a stream, but Logain had done all the hunting when they had not eaten at an inn or a farm. Dried beans did not make a meal, in her opinion. \"And some wine, if you have it. But first, I would like some information. Where are we, if it isn't a secret here too? This village is called Salidar?\"\n\n\"In Altara. The Eldar is about a mile to the west. Amadicia is on the other side.\" The girl put on a poor imitation of Aes Sedai mystery. \"Where better to hide Aes Sedai than where they would never be looked for?\"\n\n\"We should not have to hide,\" a dark, curlyhaired young woman snapped, stopping. Min recognized her, an Accepted named Faolain; she would have expected her to be in the Tower still. Faolain had never liked anyone or anything as far as Min knew, and had often spoken of choosing the Red Ajah when she was raised. A perfect follower for Elaida. \"Why did you come here? With him! Why did she come?\" There was no doubt in Min's mind who she meant. \"It is her fault we have to hide. I did not believe she helped Mazrim Taim escape, but if she appears herewith him, maybe she did.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"That will be enough, Faolain,\" a slender woman with black hair spilling down her back to her waist told the roundfaced Accepted." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Min thought she knew the woman in the dark golden silk riding dress. Edesina. A Yellow, she believed. \"Go about your duties,\" Edesina said. \"And if you mean to bring food, Tabiya, do it.\" Edesina did not watch Faolain's sullen curtsy-the novice gave a better and scurried away-but put a hand on Logain's head instead. Eyes on the table, he did not seem to notice.\n\nTo Min's eyes, a silvery collar suddenly appeared, snug around the woman's neck, and as suddenly seemed to shatter. Min shivered. She did not like viewings connected to the Seanchan. At least Edesina would escape somehow. Even if Min had been willing to expose herself, there was no point in warning the woman; it would not change anything.\n\n\"It is the gentling,\" the Aes Sedai said after a moment. \"He has given upon wanting to live, I suppose. There is nothing I can do for him. Not that I am sure I should if I could.\" The look she gave Min before leaving was far from friendly.\n\nAn elegant, statuesque woman in russet silk paused a few feet away, coolly examining Min and Logain with expressionless eyes. Kiruna was a Green, and regal in her manner; she was a sister of the King of Arafel, so Min had heard, but she had been friendly to Min in the Tower. Min smiled, but those large dark eyes swept over her without recognition, and Kiruna glided out of the inn, four Warders, disparate men but all with that deadlyseeming way of moving, suddenly heeling her.\n\nWaiting for her food, Min hoped that Siuan and Leane were finding a warmer reception." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Practice of Diffidence\n\n\"You are rudderless,\" Siuan told the six women facing her in six different sorts of chair. The room itself was a muddle. Two large kitchen tables against the walls held pens and ink jars and sand bottles in neat arrays. Mismatched lamps, some glazed pottery and some gilded, and candles in every thickness and length stood ready to provide light at nightfall. A scrap of Illianer silk carpet, rich in blues and reds and gold, lay on a floor of rough, weathered planks. She and Leane had been seated across the piece of carpet from the others, in such away that they were the focus of every eye. Open casement windows with panes cracked or replaced by oiled silk let a breath of air stir in, but not enough to cut the heat. Siuan told herself that she did not envy these women their ability to channel-she was past that, surely-but she did envy the way none of them perspired. Her own face was quite damp. \"All that activity out there is play and show. You might be fooling each other, and maybe even the Gaidin-though I'd not count on that, were I you-but you can't fool me.\"\n\nShe wished that Morvrin and Beonin had not been added to the group. Morvrin was skeptical of everything despite her placid, sometimes vaguely absent look, a stout Brown with graystreaked hair who demanded six pieces of evidence before she would believe fish had scales. And Beonin, a pretty Gray with dark honey hair and bluegray eyes so big they constantly made her appear slightly startled-Beonin made Morvrin seem gullible.\n\n\"Elaida has the Tower in her fist, and you know she will mishandle Rand al'Thor,\" Siuan said scornfully. \"It will be pure luck if she doesn't panic and have him gentled before Tarmon Gai'don. You know that whatever you feel about a man channeling, Reds feel ten times more. The White Tower is at its weakest when it should beat its strongest, in the hands of a fool when it must have skilled command.\" She wrinkled her nose, staring them in the eye one by one. \"And you sit here, drifting with your sails down. Or can you convince me that you are doing more than twiddling your thumbs and blowing bubbles?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Do you agree with Siuan, Leane?\" Anaiya asked mildly. Siuan had never been able to understand why Moiraine liked the woman. Trying to get her to do anything she did not want to was like hitting a sack of feathers. She did not stand up to you, or argue; she just silently refused to move. Even the way she sat, with her hands folded, looked more like a woman waiting to knead dough than an Aes Sedai.\n\n\"In part I do,\" Leane replied. Siuan gave her a sharp look that she ignored. \"About Elaida, certainly. Elaida will misuse Rand al'Thor, as surely as she is misusing the Tower. For the rest, I know that you have worked hard to gather as many sisters here as you have, and I expect that you are working just as hard to do something about Elaida.\"\n\nSiuan sniffed loudly. On her way through the common room she had snatched glimpses of some of those parchments being examined so assiduously. Lists of provisions, allotments of timber for rebuilding, assignments for woodcutting and repairing houses and cleaning out wells. Nothing more. Nothing that looked the least like a report on Elaida's activities. They were planning to winter here. All it took was one Blue being captured after she had learned of Salidar, one woman being put to the question-she would not hold back much if Alviarin had charge of it-and Elaida would know exactly whereto net them. While they worried about planting vegetable gardens and having enough firewood cut before the first freeze.\n\n\"Then that is out of the way,\" Carlinya said coolly. \"You do not seem to understand that you are not Amyrlin and Keeper any longer. You are not even Aes Sedai.\" Some had the grace to look embarrassed. Not Morvrin or Beonin, but the others. No Aes Sedai liked to speak of stilling, or be reminded of it; they would think it especially harsh in front of the two of them. \"I do not say this to be cruel. We do not believe the charges against you-despite your traveling companion-or we would not be here, but you cannot assume your old places among us, and that is a simple fact.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Siuan remembered Carlinya well as novice and Accepted." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Once a month she had committed some minor offense, a small thing that earned her an extra hour or two of chores. Exactly once each month. She had not wanted the others to think her a prig. Those had been her only offenses-she never broke another rule or put afoot wrong; it would not have been logical-yet she had never understood why the other girls had considered her an Aes Sedai pet anyway. A great deal of logic and not much commonsense: that was Carlinya.\n\n\"While what was done to you followed the letter of the law narrowly,\" Sheriam said gently, \"we agree that it was malignantly unjust, an extreme distortion of the law's spirit.\" The chairback behind her firered head was incongruously carved with what seemed to be amass of snakes fighting. \"Whatever rumor might say, most of the charges laid against you were so thin that they should have been laughed away.\"\n\n\"Not the charge that she knew of Rand al'Thor and conspired to hide him from the Tower,\" Carlinya broke in sharply.\n\nSheriam nodded. \"But be that as it may, even that was not sufficient for the penalty given. Nor should you have been tried in secret, without even a chance to defend yourself. Never fear that we will turn our backs on you. We will see that you both are cared for.\"\n\n\"I thank you,\" Leane said, her voice soft and almost trembling.\n\nSiuan grimaced at them. \"You haven't even asked me about the eyesandears I can use.\" She had liked Sheriam when they were students together, though years and position had opened water between them. \"Cared for\" indeed! \"Is Aeldene here?\" Anaiya started to shake her head before stopping herself. \"I suspected not, or you would know more of what is going on. You've left them sending their reports to the Tower.\" Slow realization dawned on their faces; they had not known Aeldene's office. \"I headed the Blue Ajah's net of eyesandears, before I was raised Amyrlin.\" More surprise. \"With a little effort every Blue agent, and those who served meas Amyrlin too, can be sending her reports to you, by routes that keep her ignorant of their final destination.\" It would take considerably more than a little work, but she had already sketched most of it out in her head, and there was no need for them to know more at the moment. \"And they can continue sending reports to the Tower, reports containing what... you want Elaida to believe.\" She had almost said'we\"; she had to watch her tongue." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They did not like it, of course. The women who tended the networks might be unknown to all but a few, but they were everyone Aes Sedai. They had always been Aes Sedai. But that washer only lever with which to pry her way into the circles where decisions were made. Otherwise, they would likely stuff her and Leane into a cottage with a servant to look after them, and maybe a rare visit from Aes Sedai who wanted to examine women who had been stilled, until they died. They would die soon, in those circumstances.\n\nLight, they might even marry us off! Some thought that a husband and children could occupy a woman enough to replace the One Power in her life. More than one woman, stilled by drawing too much of saidar to herself, or in testing ter'angreal for their uses, had found herself being matched with potential husbands. Since those who did marry always put as much distance as possible between themselves and the Tower and its memories, the theory remained unproven.\n\n\"It should not be difficult,\" Leane said diffidently, \"to put myself in touch with those who were my eyesandears before I was Keeper. More importantly, as Keeper of the Chronicles I had agents in Tar Valon itself.\" Startlement widened a few eyes, though Carlinya's narrowed. Leane blinked, shifted uneasily, smiled weakly. \"I always thought it foolish that we paid more attention to the mood of Ebou Dar or Bandar Eban than to the mood of our own city.\" They had to seethe value of eyesandears in Tar Valon.\n\n\"Siuan.\" Leaning forward in her thickarmed chair, Morvrin said the name firmly, as though to emphasize that she had not said Mother. That round face looked more stubborn than placid now, her stoutness a threatening mass. When Siuan had been a novice, Morvrin rarely seemed to notice the mischief of the girls around her, but when she did, she had taken care of matters herself, in ways that had everyone sitting straight and walking small for days. \"Why should we allow you to do as you want? You have been stilled, woman. Whatever you were, you are no longer Aes Sedai. If we want these agents' names, you will both give them to us.\" There was a flat certainty to that last; they would give them, one way or another. They would, if these women wanted them enough." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Leane shivered visibly, but Siuan's chair creaked as she stiffened her back. \"I know that I am not Amyrlin anymore. Do you think I don't know I was stilled? My face is changed, but not what is inside. Everything I ever knew is still in my head. Use it! For the love of the Light, use me!\" She took a deep breath to calm herself-Burn me if I let them shove me aside to rot!-and Myrelle spoke into the pause.\n\n\"A young woman's temper to go with a young woman's face.\" Smiling, she sat on the edge of a stiffbacked armchair that could have stood in front of a farmer's fireplace, if the farmer had not cared that the varnish was flaking. The smile was not her usual one, though, languid and knowing at the same time, and her dark eyes, nearly as large as Beonin's, were full of sympathy. \"I am sure that no one wants you to feel useless, Siuan. And I am sure that we all want to employ your knowledge fully. What you know will be of great use to us.\"\n\nSiuan did not want her sympathy. \"You seem to have forgotten Logain, and why I dragged him all the way here from Tar Valon.\" She had not meant to bring this up herself, but if they were going to let it lie wallowing...\"My \"crackbrained\" idea?\"\n\n\"Very well, Siuan,\" Sheriam said. \"Why?\"\n\n\"Because the first step to pulling Elaida down is for Logain to reveal to the Tower, to the world if need be, that the Red Ajah set him up as a false Dragon so that he could be pulled down.\" She certainly had their attention now. \"He was found by Reds in Ghealdan at least a year before he proclaimed himself, but instead of bringing him to Tar Valon to be gentled, they planted the idea in his head of claiming to be the Dragon Reborn.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You are certain of this?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Beonin asked quietly, in a heavy Taraboner accent. She sat very still in her tall, canebottomed chair, watching carefully.\n\n\"He does not know who Leane and I are. He talked with us sometimes on the journey here, late at night when Min was sleeping and he could not rest. He said nothing before because he thinks the entire Tower was behind it, but he knows that it was Red sisters who shielded him and talked to him of the Dragon Reborn.\"\n\n\"Why?\" Morvrin demanded, and Sheriam nodded.\n\n\"Yes, why? Any of us would go out of our way to see a manlike that gentled, but the Red Ajah lives for nothing else. Why would they create a false Dragon?\"\n\n\"Logain did not know,\" she told them. \"Perhaps they think they gain more by capturing a false Dragon than gentling a poor fool who might terrorize one village. Perhaps they have some reason to want more turmoil.\"\n\n\"We do not suggest they've had anything to do with Mazrim Taim or any of the others,\" Leane added quickly. \"Elaida will no doubt be able to tell you what you want to know.\"\n\nSiuan watched them mull it over in silence. They never considered the possibility that she was lying. An advantage to having been stilled. It did not seem to occur to them that being stilled might have broken all ties to the Three Oaths. Some Aes Sedai studied stilled women, true, but gingerly and reluctantly. No one wanted to be reminded of what might happen to herself.\n\nFor Logain, Siuan had no worry. Not as long as Min continued to see whatever it was that she saw. He would livelong enough to reveal what Siuan wanted him to, once she had talked to him. She had not dared risk his deciding to go his own way, which he might well have done had she told him before. But it was his one chance for revenge now against those who had gentled him, surrounded by Aes Sedai again as he was. Revenge only against the Red Ajah, true, but he would have to settle for that. A fish in the boat was worth a school in the water." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She glanced at Leane, who smiled the faintest possible smile." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was good. Leane had disliked being kept in the dark about her plan for the man until this morning, but Siuan had lived too long wrapped in secrecy to be easy revealing more than she had to, even to a friend. She thought that the idea of Red Ajah involvement with other false Dragons had been neatly planted. Reds had been the leaders in overthrowing her. There might not be a Red Ajah once this was done with.\n\n\"This changes a great deal,\" Sheriam said after a time. \"We cannot possibly follow an Amyrlin who would do such a thing.\"\n\n\"Follow her!\" Siuan exclaimed, for the first time truly startled. \"You were actually considering going back to kiss Elaida's ring? Knowing what she has done, and will do?\" Leane quivered in her seat as if she wanted to say a few choice words herself, but they had agreed that Siuan was to be the one to lose her temper.\n\nSheriam looked a trifle embarrassed, and spots of color floated in Myrelle's olive cheeks, but the others took it as calmly as sunshine.\n\n\"The Tower must be strong,\" Carlinya said in a voice as hard as winter stone. \"The Dragon has been Reborn, the Last Battle is coming, and the Tower must be whole.\"\n\nAnaiya nodded. \"We understand your reasons for disliking Elaida, even hating her. We do understand, but we must think of the Tower, and the world. I confess I do not like Elaida myself. But then, I have never liked Siuan, either. It is not necessary to like the Amyrlin Seat. There is no need to glare so, Siuan. You have had a file fora tongue since you were a novice, and it has only roughened with the years. And as Amyrlin, you pushed sisters where you wanted and only seldom explained why. The two do not make a likable combination.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I will try to... smooth my tongue,\" Siuan said dryly. Did the woman expect the Amyrlin Seat to treat every sister like a childhood friend? \"But I hope what I've told you changes your desire to kneel at Elaida's feet?\"\n\n\"If that is your smoother tongue,\" Myrelle said idly, \"I may have to smooth it myself, if we do allow you to run the eyesandears for us.\"\n\n\"We cannot go back to the Tower now, of course,\" Sheriam said. \"Not knowing this. Not until we are in position to see Elaida deposed.\"\n\n\"Whatever she has done, the Reds, they will continue to support her.\" Beonin stated it as fact, not objection. It was no secret that the Reds resented the fact that there had not been an Amyrlin from their Ajah since Bonwhin.\n\nMorvrin nodded heavily. \"Others will, as well. Those who have thrown themselves too much behind Elaida to believe they have any other choice. Those who will support authority, however vile. And some who will believe we are dividing the Tower when it must be whole at any cost.\"\n\n\"All but the Red sisters can be approached,\" Beonin said judiciously, \"negotiated with.\" Mediation and negotiation were her Ajah's reason for existence.\n\n\"It seems we will have a use for your agents, Siuan.\" Sheriam looked around at the others. \"Unless anyone still thinks we should take them away from her?\" Morvrin was the last to shake her head, but she did it, finally, after along study that made Siuan feel she had been stripped, weighed and measured.\n\nShe could not stop a sigh of relief. Not a short life drying up in a cottage, but a life of purpose. It might still be a short life-no one knew how long a stilled woman could live given something to replace the One Power in her life-but with purpose it would belong enough. So Myrelle was going to smooth her tongue for her, was she? I'll show that foxeyed Green-I will hold my tongue and be glad she isn't doing more than look at me is what I'll do. I knew how this would go. Burn me, but I did." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Thank you, Aes Sedai,\" she said in the meekest tone she could find." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "To call them that pained her; it was another break, another reminder of what she was not any longer. \"I will try to give good service.\" Myrelle did not have to nod in such a satisfied way. Siuan ignored a small voice that said she would have done as much or more in Myrelle's place.\n\n\"If I may suggest,\" Leane said, \"it is not enough to wait until you have enough support in the Hall of the Tower to depose Elaida.\" Siuan put on an interested look, as though hearing this for the first time. \"Elaida sits in Tar Valon, in the White Tower, and to the world she is Amyrlin. At the moment, you are only a flock of dissidents. She can call you rebels and agitators, and coming from the Amyrlin Seat, the world will believe it.\"\n\n\"We can hardly stop her being Amyrlin before she is deposed,\" Carlinya said, shifting on her chair in icy contempt. Had shebeen wearing her whitefringed shawl, she would have snapped it around her.\n\n\"You can give the world a true Amyrlin.\" Leane spoke not to the White sister, but to all of them, eyeing each in turn, sure of what she was saying yet at the same time offering a suggestion that she merely hoped they would take. It had been Siuan who pointed out that the techniques she employed on men could be adapted for women. \"I saw Aes Sedai from every Ajah save the Red in the common room, and in the streets. Have them elect a Hall of the Tower here, and let that Hall select anew Amyrlin. Then you can present yourselves to the world as the true White Tower, in exile, and Elaida as a usurper. With Logain's revelations added in, can you doubt who the nations will accept as the real Amyrlin Seat?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The idea took hold. Siuan could see them turning it over in their minds. Whatever the others thought, only Sheriam voiced a word against. \"It will mean that the Tower truly is broken,\" the greeneyed woman said sadly.\n\n\"It already is broken,\" Siuan told her tartly, and instantly wished she had not when they all looked at her.\n\nThis was supposed to be purely Leane's notion. She herself had a reputation as a deft manipulator, and they could well be suspicious of anything she proposed. That was why she had begun by scathing them; they would not have believed her if she had begun with mild words. She would come at them as if she still thought herself Amyrlin, and let them put her in her place. By comparison, Leane would seem more cooperative, only offering the little she could, and they would be more likely to listen to her. Doing her own part had not been difficult until it came to pleading; then she had wanted to hang them all in the sun to dry. Sitting here, doing nothing!\n\nYou didn't have to worry about them being suspicious. They think you area broken reed. If everything went properly, they would not learn differently. A useful reed, but a weak one, not to bethought of twice. It was a painful accommodation to make, but Duranda Tharne had shown her the necessity in Lugard. They would accept her only on their terms, and she would have to make the best of it.\n\n\"I wish I had thought of this myself,\" she went on. \"Now that I hear it, Leane's idea gives you away to build the Tower again without having to tear it down completely first.\"\n\n\"I still cannot like it.\" Sheriam's voice firmed. \"But what must be must be. The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills, and the Light willing, it will weave Elaida out of the stole.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We will need to negotiate with those sisters who remain in the Tower,\" Beonin mused, only half to herself. \"The Amyrlin we choose, she must be a skilled negotiator, yes?\"\n\n\"Clear thinking will be needed,\" Carlinya put in. \"The new Amyrlin must be a woman of cool reason and logic.\"\n\nMorvrin's snort was loud enough to make everyone jump in their chairs. \"Sheriam is the highest among us, and she has kept us together when we'd have been running in ten different directions.\"\n\nSheriam shook her head vigorously, but Myrelle gave her no chance to speak. \"Sheriam is an excellent choice. I can promise every Green sister here behind her, I know.\" Anaiya opened her mouth, agreement plain on her face.\n\nIt was time to put a stop to this before it got out of hand. \"If I may suggest?\" Siuan thought she managed diffidence much better than she had meekness. It was a strain, but she thought she had better learn to maintain it. Myrelle isn't the only one who will try to stuff me in the bilges if they think I've overstepped my place. Whatever it is. Only they would not try; they would do. Aes Sedai expected-no, required-respect from those who were not. \"It seems tome that whoever you choose should be someone who was not in the Tower when I... was deposed. Would it not be best if the woman who unites the Tower again was one whom no one could accuse of choosing aside on that day?\" If she had to keep this up, she was going to burst a seam in her head.\n\n\"Someone very strong in the Power,\" Leane added. \"The stronger she is, the more she can stand for all that the Tower means. Or will again, once Elaida is gone.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Siuan could have kicked her. That thought was supposed to wait a full day, to be tossed in once they actually began considering names. Between them, she and Leane knew enough of every sister to find some weakness, some doubt to be dangled subtly as to her fitness for stole and staff. She would rather wade naked through a school of silverpike than have these women realize that she was trying to manipulate them.\n\n\"A sister who was out of the Tower,\" Sheriam said, nodding. \"That makes excellent sense, Siuan. Very good.\" How easily they slipped into patting heron the head.\n\nMorvrin pursed her lips. \"It will not be easy, finding whoever we choose.\"\n\n\"Strength narrows the possibilities.\" Anaiya looked around at the others. \"It will not only make her a better symbol, to the other sisters at least, but strength in the Power often goes with strength of will, and whoever we choose will surely need that.\"\n\nCarlinya and Beonin were the last to join in agreement.\n\nSiuan kept her face smooth, her smile on the inside. The breaking of the Tower had changed many things, many ways of thinking besides her own. These women had led the sisters gathered here, and now they were discussing who should be presented to their new Hall of the Tower as if that should not be the Hall's choice. It would not be difficult to bring them around, ever so gently, to the belief that the new Amyrlin should be one who could be guided by them. And unknowing, they and the Amyrlin she chose for her replacement would be guided by herself. She and Moiraine had worked too long to find Rand al'Thor and prepare him, given too much of their lives, for her to risk the rest of it being bungled by someone else." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"If I may make another suggestion?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Diffidence was simply not in her nature; she was going to have to find something else. She waited, trying not to grit her teeth, for Sheriam to nod before going on. \"Elaida will be attempting to discover where Rand al'Thor is; the farther south I came, the more rumors I heard that he has left Tear. I think that he has, and I think that I have reasoned out where he went.\"\n\nThere was no need for her to say that they had to find him before Tar Valon did. They all understood. Not only would Elaida mishandle him, certainly, but should she put her hands on him, display him shielded and in her control, any hope of toppling her would begone. Rulers knew the Prophecies, if their people usually did not; they would forgive her a dozen false Dragons out of necessity.\n\n\"Where?\" Morvrin barked, a hair ahead of Sheriam, Anaiya and Myrelle all together.\n\n\"The Aiel Waste.\"\n\nThere was a moment of silence before Carlinya said, \"That is ridiculous.\"\n\nSiuan bit back an angry reply and smiled what she hoped was an apologetic smile. \"Perhaps, but I read something of the Aiel when I was Accepted. Gitara Moroso thought that some of the Aiel Wise Ones might be able to channel.\" Gitara had been Keeper then. \"One of the books she had me read, an old thing from the dustiest corner of the library, claimed that the Aiel call themselves the People of the Dragon. I did not remember it until I tried puzzling out where Rand could have vanished to. The Prophecies say \"the Stone of Tear shall never fall till the People of the Dragon come,\" and there were Aiel in the taking of the Stone. That, every rumor and tale agrees on.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morvrin's eyes suddenly seemed to look elsewhere. \"I remember speculation about the Wise Ones when I was newly raised to the shawl. It would be fascinating, if true, but Aiel are little more welcoming to Aes Sedai than to anyone else who enters the Waste, and their Wise Ones apparently have some law or custom against speaking to strangers, so I understand, which makes it extremely hard to come close enough to one, to feel if she-\" Suddenly she gave herself a shake, staring at Siuan and Leane as though her wandering had been their fault. \"A thin straw to weave a basket, something you remember from a book likely written by someone who never saw an Aiel.\"\n\n\"Avery thin straw,\" Carlinya said.\n\n\"But worth sending someone to the Waste?\" It took effort to make that a question instead of a demand. Siuan thought she might sweat down to nothing if she could not find another way. She still had enough control of herself to ignore the heat, usually, but not while trying to drag these women along without letting them notice her fist in their hair. \"I do not think the Aiel would try to harm an Aes Sedai.\" Not if she was quick enough to show that she was Aes Sedai. Siuan did not think they would. It had to be risked. \"And if he is in the Waste, the Aiel will know of it. Remember those Aiel at the Stone.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" Beonin said slowly. \"The Waste is large. How many would we need to send?\"\n\n\"If the Dragon Reborn is in the Waste,\" Anaiya said, \"the first Aiel met will know of it. Events follow this Rand al'Thor, by all accounts. He could not slip into the ocean without making a splash heard in every corner of the world.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Myrelle smiled. \"She should be Green. None of the rest of you will bond more than one Warder, and two or three Gaidin might be very useful in the Waste until the Aiel know her for Aes Sedai. I have always wanted to see an Aiel.\" She had been a novice during the Aiel War, and not allowed out of the Tower. Not that any Aes Sedai had taken part beyond Healing, of course. The Three Oaths had bound them unless Tar Valon, or maybe even the Tower itself, were attacked, and that war had never crossed the rivers.\n\n\"Not you,\" Sheriam told her, \"or any other member of this council. You agreed to see this through, Myrelle, when you agreed to sit with us, and that does not include gallivanting off because you are bored. I fear there will be more excitement than any of us could wish, before we finish.\" She would have made an excellent Amyrlin in other circumstances; in these, she was simply too strong and sure of herself. \"But Greens... Yes, I think so. Two?\" Her green eyes swept along the others. \"To be certain?\"\n\n\"Kiruna Nachiman?\" Anaiya, offered, and Beonin added, \"Bera Harkin?\" The others nodded, except for Myrelle, who shifted her shoulders irritably. Aes Sedai did not pout, but she came close.\n\nSiuan took her second relieved breath. She was certain her reasoning was correct. He had vanished to somewhere, and if he was anywhere between the Spine of the World and the Aryth Ocean, rumors would have been flying. And wherever he was, Moiraine would be therewith a hand on his collar. Kiruna and Bera would surely be willing to carry a letter to Moiraine, and they had seven Warders between them to keep the Aiel from killing them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"We do not want to tire you and Leane,\" Sheriam went oh." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I will ask one of the Yellow sisters to look at both of you. Perhaps she can do something to help, to ease you in someway. I will have rooms found for you, where you can rest.\"\n\n\"If you are to be our mistress of eyesandears,\" Myrelle added solicitously, \"you must maintain your strength.\"\n\n\"I am not so frail as you seem to think,\" Siuan protested. \"If I were, could I have followed you nearly two thousand miles? Whatever weakness I had after being stilled is gone, believe me.\" The truth was that she had found a center of power again, and she did not want to leave it, but she could hardly say that. All those concerned eyes on her, and Leane. Well, not Carlinya's particularly, but the rest. Light! They're going to have a novice tuck us into bed fora nap!\n\nA knock at the door was followed immediately by Arinvar, Sheriam's Warder. Cairhienin, he was not tall, and slender besides, but in spite of gray at his temples he was hard of face, and he moved like a stalking leopard. \"There are twentyodd riders to the east,\" he said without preamble.\n\n\"Not Whitecloaks,\" Carlinya said, \"or I presume you would have reported as much.\"\n\nSheriam gave her a look. Many sisters could be prickly when it came to another stepping between them and their Gaidin. \"We cannot allow them to getaway, and perhaps carry word of our presence. Can they be captured, Arinvar? I would prefer that to killing them.\"\n\n\"Either maybe difficult,\" he replied. \"Machan says they are armed and have the look of veterans. Worth ten times their number of younger men.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morvrin made a vexed sound. \"We must do one or the other. Forgive me, Sheriam. Arinvar, can the Gaidin sneak some of the more agile sisters close enough to weave Air around them?\"\n\nHe shook his head fractionally. \"Machan says they may have seen some of the Warders keeping watch. They would certainly see if we tried to bring more than one or two of you near. They are still coming, though.\"\n\nSiuan and Leane were not the only ones to exchange startled glances. Few men saw a Warder who did not want to be seen, even without the Gaidin cloak.\n\n\"Then you must do as you think best,\" Sheriam said. \"Capture them, if possible. But none must escape to betray us.\"\n\nBefore Arinvar could complete his bow, hand to sword hilt, another man was beside him, a dark bear of a man, tall and wide, with hair to his shoulders and a short beard that left his upper lip bare. That flowing Warder movement seemed odd on him. He winked at Myrelle, his Aes Sedai, even as he said in a thick Illianer accent, \"Most of the riders do be stopped, but one does come on by himself. If my aged mother did say different, I would still name him Gareth Bryne from the glimpse I did get.\"\n\nSiuan stared at him; her hands and feet suddenly felt cold. Strong rumor said that Myrelle had actually married this Nuhel and her other two Warders, in defiance of convention and law in every land Siuan had ever heard of. It was the sort of incongruous thought that drifted through a stunned mind, and right then she felt as if a mast had fallen on her head. Bryne, here? It's impossible! It is mad! Surely the man could not have followed them all this way for... Oh yes, he could and would. That one would. As they journeyed, she had told herself that it was only sensible caution to leave no trace behind, that Elaida knew they were not dead, whatever the rumors said, and she would not stop hunting until they were found or she was pulled down. Siuan had been irritated at having to ask directions finally, yet the thought that had snapped at her like a shark had not been that Elaida might somehow find a blacksmith in one small Altaran village, but that the blacksmith would be like a painted sign for Bryne. Told yourself it was foolish, didn't you? And nowhere he is." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She well remembered her confrontation with him, when she had had to bend him to her will on that matter of Murandy." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It had been like bending a thick iron bar, or some huge spring that would leap back if she letup for an instant. She had had to bring all of her force to bear, had had to humiliate him publicly, in order to make certain he would remain bent for as long as she needed. He could hardly go against what he had agreed to on his knees, begging her pardon, with fifty nobles watching. Morgase had been difficult enough herself, and Siuan had not been willing to risk Bryne giving Morgase an excuse to go against her instructions. Strange to think that she and Elaida had worked together then, bringing Morgase to heel.\n\nShe had to take hold of herself. She was in a daze, thinking of everything except what she needed to. Concentrate. This is no time to panic. \"You must send him away. Or kill him.\"\n\nShe knew it fora mistake while the words were still leaving her mouth, all too full of urgency. Even the Warders looked at her, and the Aes Sedai... She had never before known what it felt like for someone who lacked the Power to have those eyes turned on them at full strength. She felt naked, her very mind laid bare. Even knowing that Aes Sedai could not read thoughts, she still wanted to confess before they listed her lies and crimes. She hoped that her face was not like Leane's, redcheeked and wideeyed.\n\n\"You know why he is here.\" Sheriam's voice was calmly certain. \"Both of you do. And you do not want to confront him. Enough so that you would have us kill him for you.\"\n\n\"There do be few great captains living.\" Nuhel marked them off on gauntleted fingers. \"Agelmar Jagad and Davram Bashere will no leave the Blight, I think, and Pedron Niall will surely no be of use to you. If Rodel Ituralde do be alive, he do bemired somewhere in what do remain of Arad Doman.\" He raised his thick thumb. \"And that do leave Gareth Bryne.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Do you think that we will need a great captain, then?\" Sheriam asked quietly.\n\nNuhel and Arinvar did not look atone another, but Siuan still had the feeling that they had exchanged glances. \"It is your decision, Sheriam,\" Arinvar replied just as quietly, \"yours and the other sisters, but if you mean to return to the Tower, we could use him. If you intend to remain here until Elaida sends for you, then not.\" Myrelle gazed at Nuhel questioningly, and he nodded.\n\n\"It seems that you were right, Siuan,\" Anaiya said wryly. \"We have not fooled the Gaidin.\"\n\n\"The question is whether he will agree to serve us,\" Carlinya said, and Morvrin nodded, adding, \"We must make him see our cause in such away that he wishes to serve. It will not help us if it becomes known that we killed or imprisoned so notable a man before we have even begun.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Beonin said, \"and we must offer him the rewards that will bind him to us firmly.\"\n\nSheriam turned her eyes on the two men. \"When Lord Bryne reaches the village, tell him nothing, but bring him to us.\" As soon as the door closed behind the Warders, her gaze firmed. Siuan recognized it; the same clear green stare that had novices' knees knocking before a word was said. \"Now. You will tell us exactly why Gareth Bryne is here.\"\n\nThere was no choice. If they caught her in even the tiniest lie, they would begin to question everything. Siuan took a deep breath. \"We took shelter for the night in a barn near Kore Springs, in Andor. Bryne is the lord there, and...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Trapped\n\nA Warder in a graygreen coat approached Bryne as soon as he rode Traveler past the first stone houses of the village. Bryne would have known the man fora Warder after watching him walk two strides, even without all the Aes Sedai faces staring at him in the street. What in the name of the Light were so many Aes Sedai doing this close to Amadicia? Rumor in villages behind said Ailron meant to claim this bank of the River Eldar, which meant the Whitecloaks did. Aes Sedai could defend themselves well, but if Niall sent a legion across the Eldar, a good many of these women would die. Unless he could no longer tell how long a stump had been exposed to air, this place had been buried in the forest two months ago. What had Mara gotten herself into? He was sure he would find her here; village men remembered three pretty young women traveling together, especially when one of them asked directions to a town abandoned since the Whitecloak War.\n\nThe Warder, a big man with abroad face, an Illianer by his beard, planted himself in the street in front of Bryne's bignosed bay gelding and bowed. \"Lord Bryne? I am Nuhel Dromand. If you will come with me, there are those who do wish to speak with you.\"\n\nBryne dismounted slowly, pulling off his gauntlets and tucking them behind his sword belt as he studied the town. The plain buffcolored coat he wore now was much better fora journey of this sort than the gray silk he had started in; that, he had given away. Aes Sedai and Warders, and others, watched him silently, but even those who had to be servants did not look surprised. And Dromand knew his name. His face was not unknown, but he suspected more than that. If Mara was-if they were Aes Sedai agents, it did not alter the oath they had taken. \"Lead on, Nuhel Gaidin.\" If Nuhel was surprised at the address, he did not show it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The inn that Dromand took him to-or what had been an inn once-had, the look of headquarters fora campaign, all bustle and scurry." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That is, if Aes Sedai had ever commanded a campaign. He spotted Serenla before she did him, seated in the corner with a big man who was very likely Dalyn. When she did see him, her chin dropped almost to the table, and then she squinted at him as if not believing her eyes. Dalyn appeared to be asleep with his eyes open, staring at nothing. None of the Aes Sedai or Warders seemed to notice as Dromand led him through, but Bryne would have wagered his manor and lands that anyone of them had seen ten times as much as all the staring servants combined. He should have turned and ridden away as soon as he realized who was in this village.\n\nHe took careful note as he made his bows while the Warder introduced him to the six seated Aes Sedai-only a fool was careless around Aes Sedai-but his mind was on the two young women standing against the wall beside the freshswept fireplace and looking chastened. The willowy Domani minx was offering him a smile more tremulous than seductive fora change. Mara was frightened, too-terrified out of her skin, he would say-but those blue eyes still met his full of defiance. The girl had courage to suit a lion.\n\n\"We are pleased to greet you, Lord Bryne,\" the flamehaired Aes Sedai said. Just slightly plump, and with those tilted eyes, she was pretty enough to make any man look twice despite the Great Serpent ring on her finger. \"Will you tell us what brings you here?\"\n\n\"Of course, Sheriam Sedai.\" Nuhel stood at his shoulder, but if any women needed less guarding from one old soldier, Bryne could not imagine who. He was sure that they knew already, and watching their faces while he told the tale confirmed it. Aes Sedai let nothing be seen that they did not want seen, but at least one of them would have blinked when he spoke of the oath if they had not known beforehand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"A dreadful story to relate, Lord Bryne.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was the one called Anaiya; ageless face or not, she looked more like a happy, prosperous farmwife than an Aes Sedai. \"Yet I am surprised that you followed so far, even after oathbreakers.\" Mara's fair cheeks flushed a furious red. \"Still, a strong oath, one that should not be broken.\"\n\n\"Unfortunately,\" Sheriam said, \"we cannot let you take them quite yet.\"\n\nSo they were Aes Sedai agents. \"A strong oath that should not be broken, yet you mean to keep them from honoring it?\"\n\n\"They will honor it,\" Myrelle said, with a glance at the pair by the fireplace that made them both stand straighter, \"and you may rest assured that they already regret running away after giving, it.\" This time it was Amaena who reddened; Mara looked ready to chew rocks. \"But we cannot allow it yet.\" No Ajahs had been mentioned, yet he thought the darkly pretty woman was Green, and the stout, roundfaced one called Morvrin was Brown. Perhaps it was the smile that Myrelle had given Dromand when the man brought him in, and Morvrin's air of thinking of something else. \"In truth, they did not say when they would serve, and we have a use for them.\"\n\nThis was foolish; he should apologize for disturbing them and leave. And that was foolish, too. He had known before Dromand reached him in the street that he was unlikely to leave Salidar alive. There were probably fifty Warders in the forest around where he had left his men, if not a hundred. Joni and the others would give a good account of themselves, but he had not brought them all this way to die. Yet if he was a fool to have let a pair of eyes lure him into this trap, he might as well go the last mile for it. \"Arson, theft and assault, Aes Sedai. Those were the crimes. They were tried, sentenced, and sworn. But I have no objection to remaining here until you are done with them. Mara can act as my dog robber when you do not need her. I will mark the hours she works for me, and count them against her service.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mara opened her mouth angrily, but almost as if the women had known that she would try to speak, six pairs of Aes Sedai eyes swiveled to her in unison. She shifted her shoulders, snapped her mouth shut, and then glared at him; fists rigidly at her sides. He was glad she did not have a knife in her hand.\n\nMyrelle appeared close to laughter. \"Better to choose the other, Lord Bryne. From the way she is looking at you, you would find her far more... congenial.\"\n\nHe halfexpected Amaena to go crimson, but she did not. And she was eyeing him-appraisingly. She even shared a smile with Myrelle. Well, she was Domani after all, and considerably more so than when he saw her last, it seemed.\n\nCarlinya, cold enough to make the others seem warm, leaned forward. He was wary of her, and of the bigeyed one named Beonin. He was not sure why. Except that if he were in the Game of Houses here, he would say both women reeked of ambition. Maybe he was involved inexactly that.\n\n\"You should be aware,\" Carlinya said coolly, \"that the woman you know as Mara is in reality Siuan Sanche, formerly the Amyrlin Seat. Amaena is really Leane Sharif, who was Keeper of the Chronicles.\"\n\nIt was all he could do not to gape like a country lout. Now that he knew, he could see it in Mara's face-in Siuan's-the face that had made him back down, softened into youth. \"How?\" was all he said. It was almost all he could have managed to say.\n\n\"There are somethings men are better off not knowing,\" Sheriam replied coolly, \"and most women.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mara-no, he might as well think of her by her right name-Siuan had been stilled. He knew that. It must be something to do with stilling. If that swannecked Domani had been Keeper, he was ready to wager she had been stilled, too. But talking about stilling around Aes Sedai was a good way to find out how tough you were. Besides, when they began going mysterious with you, Aes Sedai would not give a straight answer if you asked whether the sky was blue.\n\nThey were very good, these Aes Sedai. They had lulled him, then hit hard when his guard was down. He had a sinking feeling that he knew what they were softening him for. It would be interesting to learn whether he was right. \"It does not change the oath they took. If they were still Amyrlin and Keeper, they could beheld to that oath by any law, including that of Tar Valon.\"\n\n\"Since you have no objection to remaining here,\" Sheriam said, \"you may have Siuan as your bodyservant, when we do not need her. You may have all three of them, if you wish, including Min, whom you apparently know as Serenla, all the time.\" For some reason, that seemed to irritate Siuan as much as what had been said about her; she muttered to herself, not loud enough to be heard. \"And since you have no objections, Lord Bryne, while you remain with us there is a service that you can give us.\"\n\n\"The gratitude of Aes Sedai is not inconsiderable,\" Morvrin said.\n\n\"You will be serving the Light and justice in serving us,\" Carlinya added.\n\nBeonin nodded, speaking in serious tones. \"You served Morgase and Andor faithfully. Serve us as well, and you will not find exile at its end. Nothing we ask of you will go against your honor. Nothing we ask will harm Andor.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Bryne grimaced." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He was in the Game, all right. He sometimes thought that Aes Sedai must have invented Daes Dae'mar, they seemed to play it in their sleep. Battle was surely more bloody, but it was more honest, too. If they meant to pull his strings, then his strings would be pulled-they would manage it one way or another-but it was time to show them he was not a brainless puppet.\n\n\"The White Tower is broken,\" he said flatly. Those Aes Sedai eyes widened, but he gave them no chance to speak. \"The Ajahs have split. That is the only reason you can all be here. You certainly don't need an extra sword or two\"-he eyed Dromand and got a nod in return-\"so the only service you can want out of me is to lead an army. To build one, first, unless you have other camps with a good many more men than I saw here. And that means you intend to oppose Elaida.\"\n\nSheriam looked vexed, Anaiya worried, and Carlinya on the point of speaking, but he went on. Let them listen; he expected he would be doing a great deal of listening to them in the months to come. \"Very well. I've never liked Elaida, and I cannot believe she makes a good Amyrlin. More importantly, I can make an army to take Tar Valon. So long as you know the taking will be bloody and long.\"\n\n\"But these are my conditions.\" They stiffened to a woman at that, even Siuan and Leane. Men did not make conditions for Aes Sedai. \"First, the command is mine. You tell me what to do, but I decide how. You give commands tome, and I give them to the soldiers under me, not you. Not unless I have agreed to it first.\" Several mouths opened, Carlinya's and Beonin's first, but he continued. \"I assign men, I promote them, and I discipline them. Not you. Second, if I tell you it can't be done, you will consider what I say. I don't ask to usurp your authority\"-small chance they would allow that-\"yet do not want to waste men because you do not understand war.\" It would happen, but no more than once, if he was lucky. \" Third, if you begin this, you will stay the course. I will be putting my head in a noose, and every man who follows along with me, and should you decide half a year from now that Elaida as Amyrlin is preferable to war, you will pull that noose tight for everyone of us who can be hunted down. The nations may stay out of a civil war in the Tower, but they'll not let us live if you abandon us. Elaida will see to that." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If you will not agree to these, then I do not know that I can serve you. Whether you bind me with the Power for Dromand hereto slit my throat or I end attainted and hung, death is still the end.\"\n\nThe Aes Sedai did not speak. Fora long moment they stared at him, until the itch between his shoulder blades made him wonder if Nuhel was ready to plunge a dagger in. Then Sheriam rose, and the others followed her to the windows. He could see their lips moving, but he heard nothing. If they wanted to hide their deliberations behind the One Power, so be it. He was not certain how much of what he wanted he could wring out of them. All, if they were sensible, but Aes Sedai could decide that strange things were sensible. Whatever they decided, he would have to accede with as good a grace as he could muster. It was a perfect trap that he had made for himself.\n\nLeane gave him a look and a smile that said as plain as words that he would never know what he had missed; he thought it would have been a fine chase, with him being led by the nose. Domani women never promised half what you thought they did, and they gave only as much as they chose and changed their minds either way in a blink.\n\nThe bait in his trap stared at him levelly, strode across the floor until she stood so close that she had to crane her neck to stare up at him, and spoke in a low, furious voice. \"Why did you do this? Why did you follow us? Fora barn?\"\n\n\"For an oath.\" Fora pair of blue eyes. Siuan Sanche could not be more than ten years younger than he, but it was hard to remember that she was Siuan Sanche while looking at a face nearer thirty years younger. The eyes were the same, though, deep blue and strong. \"An oath you gave tome, and broke. I should double your time for that.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dropping her gaze from his, she folded her arms beneath her breasts, growling, \"That has already been taken care of.\"\n\n\"You mean they punished you for oathbreaking? If you've had your bottom switched for it, it doesn't count unless I do it.\"\n\nDromand's chuckle sounded more than half scandalized-the man had to be still struggling with who Siuan had been; Bryne was not certain that he was not, too-and her face darkened until he thought she might have apoplexy. \"My time has already been doubled, if not more, you pile of rancid fish guts! You and your marking hours! Not an hour will count until you have all three of us back at your manor, not if I must be your... your... dog robber, whatever that is... for twenty years!\"\n\nSo they had planned for this too, Sheriam and the others. He glanced to their conference by the windows. They seemed to have divided into two opposing groups; Sheriam, Anaiya and Myrelle on one side, Morvrin and Carlinya on the other, with Beonin standing between. They had been ready to give him Siuan and Leane and-Min?-as bribe or sop, before he ever walked in. They were desperate, which meant he was on the weaker side, but maybe they were desperate enough to give him what he needed fora chance of victory.\n\n\"You are taking pleasure from this, aren't you?\" Siuan said fiercely the moment his eyes moved. \"You buzzard. Burn you fora carpbrained fool. Now that you know who I am, it pleases you that I'll have to bow and scrape to you.\" She did not seem to be doing much of that yet. \"Why? Is it because I made you back down over Murandy? Are you so small, Gareth Bryne?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She was trying to make him angry; she realized that she had said too much, and did not want to give him time to think on it. Maybe she was no longer Aes Sedai, but manipulation was in her blood.\n\n\"You were the Amyrlin Seat,\" he said calmly, \"and even a king kisses the Amyrlin's ring. I can't say that I liked how you went about it, and we may have a quiet talk sometime on whether it was necessary to do what you did with half the court looking on, but you will remember that I followed Mara Tomanes here, and it was Mara Tomanes I asked for. Not Siuan Sanche. Since you keep asking why, let me ask it. Why was it so important for me to allow the Murandians to raid across the border?\"\n\n\"Because your interference then could have ruined important plans,\" she said, driving each word home in a tight voice, \"just as your interference with me now can. The Tower had identified a young border lord named Dulain as a man who could one day truly unify Murandy, with our help. I could hardly allow the chance your soldiers might kill him. I have work to do here, Lord Bryne. Leave me to do it, and you may see victory. Meddle out of spite, and you ruin everything.\"\n\n\"Whatever your work is, I am sure Sheriam and the others will see you do it. Dulain? I've never heard of him. He cannot be succeeding yet.\" It was his opinion that Murandy would remain a patchwork of all but independent lords and ladies until the Wheel turned and anew Age came. Murandians called themselves Lugarder or Mindeans or whatever before they named a nation. If they even bothered to name one. A lord who could unite them, and who had Siuan's leash around his throat, could bring a considerable number of men." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"He... died.\" Scarlet spots appeared in her cheeks, and she seemed to struggle with herself. \"A month after I left Caemlyn,\" she muttered, \"some Andoran farmer put an arrow through him on a sheep raid.\"\n\nHe could not help laughing. \"It was the farmers you should have made kneel, not me. Well, you no longer need concern yourself with such things.\" That was certainly true. Whatever use the Aes Sedai had for her, they would never let her near power or decisions again now. He felt pity for her. He could not imagine this woman giving up and dying, but she had lost about as much as it was possible to lose short of dying. On the other hand, he had not liked being called a buzzard, or a pile of reeking fish guts. What was the other thing? A carpbrained fool. \"From now on, you can concern yourself with keeping my boots clean and my bed made.\"\n\nHer eyes narrowed to slits. \"If that is what you want, Lord Gareth Bryne, you should choose Leane. She might be fool enough.\"\n\nOnly barely did he stop himself from goggling. The way women's minds worked never ceased to amaze him. \"You vowed to serve me however I choose.\" He managed to chuckle. Why was he doing this? He knew who she was, and what she was. But those eyes still haunted him, staring a challenge even when she thought there was no hope, just as they were now. \"You will discover the kind of man I am, Siuan.\" He meant it to soothe her after his jest, but from the way her shoulders stiffened, she seemed to take it as a threat.\n\nSuddenly he realized that he could hear the Aes Sedai, a soft murmur of voices that went silent immediately. They stood together, staring at him with unreadable expressions. No, at Siuan. Their eyes followed her as she started back to where Leane still stood; as if she could feel the pressure of them, each step came a little quicker than the one before. When she turned again, beside the fireplace, her face told no more than theirs. A remarkable woman. He was not sure he could have done as well, in her place." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Aes Sedai were waiting for him to approach. When he did, Sheriam said, \"We accept your conditions without reservation, Lord Bryne, and pledge ourselves to hold to them. They are most reasonable.\"\n\nCarlinya, at least, did not look as though she thought they were reasonable at all, but he did not care. He had been prepared to give up all but the last, that they stay the course, if need be.\n\nHe knelt where he was, right fist pressed to the scrap of carpet, and they encircled him, each laying a hand on his bowed head. He did not care whether they used the Power to bind him to his oath or search for truth-he was not sure they could do either, but who really knew what Aes Sedai could do?-and if they meant something else, there was nothing he could do about it. Trapped by a pair of eyes, like a bullgoose fool country boy. He was carpbrained. \"I do pledge and vow that I will serve you faithfully until the White Tower is yours...\"\n\nAlready, he was planning. Thad and maybe a Warder or two across the river to see what the Whitecloaks were up to. Joni, Barim and a few others down to Ebou Dar; it would keep Joni from swallowing his tongue every time he looked at'Mara\" and'Amaena,\" and every man he sent would know how to recruit.\n\n\"... building and directing your army, to the best of my ability...\"\n\nWhen the low buzz of talk in the common room died, Min looked up from the patterns she had been idly sketching on the table with a finger dipped in wine. Logain stirred, too, fora wonder, but only to stare at the people in the room, or maybe through them; it was hard to tell." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Gareth Bryne and that big Illianer Warder came out of the backroom first." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the watchful silence, she heard Bryne say, \"Tell them an Ebou Dar tavern maid sent you, or they'll put your head on a stake.\"\n\nThe Illianer roared with laughter. \"A dangerous city, Ebou Dar.\" Pulling leather gauntlets from behind his sword belt, he stalked out into the street drawing them on.\n\nThe talk began to pickup again as Siuan appeared. Min could not hear what Bryne said to her, but she strode after the Warder snarling to herself. Min had a sinking feeling that the Aes Sedai had decided that they were going to honor that fool oath Siuan had been so proud of, honor it right now. If she could convince herself that the pair of Warders lounging against the wall would not notice, she would be out of the door and into Wildrose's saddle in a flash.\n\nSheriam and the other Aes Sedai came outlast, with Leane. Myrelle sat Leane down atone of the tables and began discussing something, while the rest circulated through the room, stopping to speak to each Aes Sedai. Whatever they said, it produced reactions from outright shock to pleased grins, despite that fabled Aes Sedai serenity.\n\n\"Stay here,\" Min told Logain, scraping back her rickety chair. She hoped he was not going to start trouble. He was staring at Aes Sedai faces, one by one, and appearing to see more than he had in days. \"Just stay at this table till I get back, Dalyn.\" She was out of the habit of being around people who knew his real name. \"Please.\"\n\n\"She sold me to Aes Sedai.\" It was a shock to hear him speak after being so long silent. He shivered, then nodded. \"I will wait.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Extend the narrative as the author's co-writer.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, war\nAuthor: Robert Jordan\nTitle: The Fires of Heaven\nChapter: 24" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Icy wind screamed through night air filled with swirling white. Even wrapped in the Void, he could feel his body shivering. Dimly he could make out scattered shapes in the darkness; trees, he thought. There was nothing for him to smell but cold. Ahead of him, a form moved, obscured by darkness and the snowstorm; he might have missed it but for the sharpness of his eyes in the Void. Aviendha, running as hard as she could. He lumbered after her through snow to his knees, clutching the thick bundle to his chest.\n\n\"Aviendha! Stop!\" He was afraid that the howling wind would sweep his shout away, but she heard. And if anything, ran faster. He forced himself to more speed, staggering and tripping as the deepening snow tugged at his boots. The prints left by her bare feet were filling fast. If he lost sight of her in this...\"Stop, you fool woman! Are you trying to kill yourself?\" The sound of his voice seemed to flog her to run harder.\n\nGrimly, he pushed himself, halffalling and scrambling backup, knocked down by the hurtling wind as often as stumbling in the snow, blundering into trees. He had to keep his eyes on her. He was only thankful this forest, or whatever it was, had trees so far apart.\n\nPlans skittered across the Void and were discarded. He could try quelling the storm-and maybe the result would turn the air to ice. A shelter of Air to keep the falling snow away would do nothing for that underfoot. He could melt a path for himself with Fire-and slog through mud instead. Unless...\n\nHe channeled, and the snow ahead of him melted in a band a span wide, a band that ran ahead of him as he did. Steam rose, and falling snow vanished afoot above the sandy soil. He could feel the heat of it through his boots. Down almost to his ankles, his body shook with the bonechilling cold; his feet sweated and flinched away from the heated ground. But he was catching up now. Another five minutes and..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Suddenly the vague shape he had been following vanished as if she had fallen into a hole.\n\nKeeping his eyes fixed on the spot where he had last seen her, he ran as hard as he could. Abruptly he was splashing in icy flowing water to his ankles, halfway to his knees. Ahead of him, the melting snow revealed more, and an edge of ice inching slowly back. No steam rose from the black water. Stream or river, it was too big for the amount of his channeling to warm the swiftmoving flow even a hair. She must have run out onto the ice and fallen through, but he would not save her by trying to wade into this. Filled with saidin, he was barely aware of the cold, but his teeth chattered uncontrollably.\n\nRetreating to the bank, gaze locked on where he thought Aviendha had gone down, he channeled flows of Fire into ground still bare, well back from the stream, until the sand melted and fused and glowed white. Even in this storm, that would stay hot fora time. He set the bundle down in the snow beside it-her life would depend on finding the blankets and rugs again-then waded through the deep white to one side of the melted path and lay flat. Slowly he crawled out onto the snowcovered ice.\n\nThe wind shrieked across him. His coat might as well not have existed. His hands were numb now, and his feet going; he had stopped shivering except for an occasional shudder. Coldly calm inside the Void, he knew what was happening; there were blizzards in the Two Rivers, perhaps even as bad as this. His body was being overwhelmed. If he did not find warmth soon, he would be able to calmly watch from the Void as he died. But if he died, Aviendha would too. If she had not already." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He felt rather than heard the ice cracking beneath his weight. His probing hands fell into water. This was the place, but with snow whirling about, he could barely see. He flailed, searching, numb hands splashing. One hit something at the edge of the ice, and he commanded his fingers to close, felt frozen hair crackling.\n\nGot to pull her out. He crawled backward, hauling at her. She was a dead weight, sliding slowly out of the water. Don't care if the ice scrapes her. Better that than freezing or drowning. Back. Keep moving. If you quit, she dies. Keep moving, burn you! Crawling. Pulling with his legs, pushing with one hand. The other locked in Aviendha's hair; no time to get a better grip; she could not feel it anyway. You've had it easy for too long. Lords kneeling, and gai'shain running to fetch your wine, and Moiraine doing as she's told. Back. Time to do something yourself if you still can. Move, you flaming fatherless son of a spavined goat! Keep moving!\n\nSuddenly his feet hurt; the pain began creeping up his legs. It took him a moment to look back, and then he rolled off the steaming patch of melted sand. Tendrils of smoke, where his breeches had begun smoldering, were whisked away by the wind.\n\nFumbling for the bundle he had left, he swathed Aviendha from head to foot in all of it, the blankets, the rugs of her pallet, her clothes. Every bit of protection was vital. Her eyes were closed, and she did not move. He parted the blankets enough to put an ear to her chest. Her heartbeat so slowly that he was not sure he was really hearing it. Even four blankets and half a dozen rugs were not enough, and he could not channel heat into her as he had the ground; even fining the flow as much as possible, he was more likely to kill than warm. He could feel the weave he had used to block open her gateway, a mile or perhaps two away through the storm. If he tried to carry her that far, neither of them would survive. They needed shelter, and they needed it here." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He channeled flows of Air, and snow began to move across the ground against the wind, building into thick square walls three paces on aside with one gap fora door, building higher, compacting the snow till it glistened like ice, roofing it over high enough to stand. Scooping Aviendha into his arms, he stumbled into the dark interior, weaving and tying flames dancing in the corners for light, channeling to scoop more snow to close the doorway.\n\nJust with the wind shut away it felt warmer, but that would not be enough. Using the trick Asmodean had shown him, he wove Air and Fire, and the air around them grew warmer. He did not dare tie that weave off; if he feel asleep, it could grow and melt the hut. For that matter, the flames were almost as dangerous to leave, but he was too boneweary and chilled to maintain more than one weave.\n\nThe ground inside had been cleared as he built, bare sandy soil with only a few brown leaves he did not recognize and some scruffy low dead weeds that were equally strange to him. Releasing the weave that warmed the air, he heated the ground enough to takeaway the iciness, then took up the other weave again. It was all he could do to lay Aviendha down gently rather than drop her.\n\nHe pushed a hand inside the blankets to feel her cheek, her shoulder. Trickles of water ran across her face as her hair melted. He was cold, but she was ice. She needed every scrap of warmth he could find for her, and he did not dare warm the air more. Already the insides of the walls shone with a faint layer of melt. However frozen he felt, he had more heat in him than she did.\n\nStripping off his clothes, he climbed into the coverings with her, arranging his own damp garments on the outside; they could help hold in the body heat. His sense of touch, enhanced by the Void and saidin, soaked in the feel of her. Her skin made silk feel rough. Compared to her skin, satin was... Don't think. He smoothed damp hair away from her face. He should have dried it, but the water no longer felt so cold, and there was nothing but the blankets or their clothes to use anyway. Her eyes were closed; her chest stirred against him slowly. Her head lay on his arm, snuggled against his chest. If she had not felt like winter itself, she could have been sleeping. So peaceful; not angry at all. So beautiful. Stop thinking. It was a sharp command outside the emptiness surrounding him. Talk." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He tried talking of the first thing that came to mind, Elayne and the confusion her two letters brought, but that soon had thoughts of goldenhaired Elayne drifting across the Void, of kissing her in secluded spots in the Stone." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Don't think of kissing, fool! He shifted to Min. He had never thought about Min that way. Well, a few dreams could not count. Min would have slapped his face if he had ever tried to kiss her, or else laughed and called him a woolhead. Only it seemed that speaking of any woman reminded him that he had his arms around a woman who had no clothes on. Filled with the Power, he could smell the scent of her, feel every inch of her as clearly as if he were running his hands... The Void trembled. Light, you're only trying to warm her! Keep your mind out of the pigsty, man!\n\nTrying to drive thought away, he talked of his hopes for Cairhien, to bring peace and an end to the famine, to bring the nations behind him without anymore bloodshed. But that had its own life, too, its own inevitable path, to Shayol Ghul, where he must face the Dark One and die, if the Prophecies were true. It seemed cowardly to say that he hoped he might live through that somehow. Aiel did not know cowardice; the worst of them was brave as a lion. \"The Breaking of the World killed the weak,\" he had heard Bad say, \"and the Threefold Land killed the cowards.\"\n\nHe began speaking of where they might be, where she had brought them with her wild senseless flight. Somewhere far and strange, to have snow at this time of year. It had been worse than a senseless flight. Mad. Yet he knew that she had fled from him. Fled from him. How she must hate him, if she had to flee as far as she could rather than just tell him to leave her to her bath in privacy.\n\n\"I should have knocked.\" At his own bedroom door? \"I know you do not want to be around me. You don't have to be. Whatever the Wise Ones want, whatever they say, you are going back to their tents. You will not have to come near me again. In fact, if you do, I... I'll send you away.\" Why hesitate on that? She gave him anger, coldness, bitterness when she was awake, and asleep...\"It was a crazy thing to do. You could have killed yourself.\" He was stroking her hair again; he could not seem to stop. \"If you ever do anything half so crazy again, I'll break your neck. Do you have any idea how I will miss hearing you breathe at night?\" Miss it? She drove him crazy with it! He was the one who was mad. He had to stop this. \"You are going away, and that's that, if I have to send you back to Rhuidean. The Wise Ones can't stop me if I speak as Car'a\"carn. You won't have to runaway from me again.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The hand that he could not stop from stroking her hair froze as she stirred. She was warm, he realized. Very warm. He should be wrapping one of the blankets about himself decently and moving away. Her eyes opened, clear and deep green, staring at him seriously from not afoot away. She did not seem surprised to see him, and she did not pullback.\n\nHe took his arms from around her, started to slither away, and she seized a handful of his hair in a painful grip. If he moved, he would have a bald patch. She gave him no chance to explain anything. \"I promised my nearsister to watch you.\" She seemed to bespeaking to herself as much as to him, in a low, almost expressionless voice. \"Iran from you as hard as I could, to shield my honor. And you followed me even here. The rings do not lie, and I can run no more.\" Her tone firmed decisively. \"I will run no more.\"\n\nRand tried to ask her what she meant while attempting to untangle her fingers from his hair, but she clutched another handful on the other side and pulled his mouth to hers. That was the end of rational thought; the Void shattered, and saidin fled. He did not think he could have stopped himself had he wanted to, only he could not think of wanting to, and she certainly did not seem to want him to. In fact, the last thought he had of any coherency fora very longtime was that he did not think he could have stopped her.\n\nSome considerable time later-two hours, maybe three; he could hardly be sure-he lay atop the rugs with the blankets over him and his hands behind his head, watching Aviendha examine the slick whitewalls. They had held a surprising amount of the warmth; there was no need to latch onto saidin again, either to shutout cold or to try warming the air. She had done no more than rake her fingers through her hair on rising, and she moved completely unashamed at her nakedness. Of course, it was a bit late to be ashamed of something as small as having no clothes on. He had been worried about hurting her when dragging her out of the water, but she showed fewer scrapes than he did, and somehow they did not seem to mar her beauty at all." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is this?\" she asked.\n\n\"Snow.\" He explained what snow was as best he could, but she only shook her head, partly in wonderment, partly disbelief. For someone who had grownup in the Waste, frozen water falling from the sky must seem as impossible as flying. According to the records, the only time it had ever even rained in the Waste was the time he had made it.\n\nHe could not stop a sigh of regret when she began pulling her shift over her head. \"The Wise Ones can marry us as soon as we get back.\" He could still feel his weave holding her gateway open.\n\nAviendha's dark reddish head popped through the neck of the shift, and she stared at him flatly. Not unfriendly, but. not friendly, either. Determined, though. \"What makes you think a man has the right to ask me that? Besides, you belong to Elayne.\"\n\nAfter a moment he managed to close his mouth. \"Aviendha, we just... The two of us... Light, we have to marry now. Not that I'm doing it because I have to,\" he added hastily. \"I want to.\" He was not sure of that at all, really. He thought he might love her, but he thought he might love Elayne, too. And for some reason, Min kept creeping in. You're as big a lecher as Mat. But for once he could do what was right because it was right.\n\nShe sniffed at him and felt her stockings to be sure they were dry, then sat down to don them. \"Egwene has spoken tome of your Two Rivers marriage customs.\"\n\n\"You want to wait a year?\" he asked incredulously.\n\n\"The year. Yes, that is what I meant.\" He had never realized before how much leg a woman showed pulling on a stocking; odd that that could seem so thrilling after he had seen her naked and sweating and... He concentrated on listening to her. \"Egwene said she thought of asking her mother's permission for you, but before she mentioned it her mother told her she had to wait another year even if she did have her hair in a braid.\" Aviendha frowned, one knee almost under her chin. \"Is that right? She said a girl was not allowed to braid her hair until she was old enough to marry. Do you understand what I am saying? You look like that... fish... Moiraine caught in the river.\" There were no fish in the Waste; Aiel knew them only from books." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Of course I do,\" be said. He might as well have been deaf and blind for all he understood. Shifting under the blankets, he made himself sound assure as he could manage. \"At least... Well, the customs are complicated, and I am not certain which part you are talking about.\"\n\nShe looked at him suspiciously fora moment, but Aiel customs were so intricate that she believed him. In the Two Rivers, you walked out fora year, and if you suited, then you became betrothed and finally married; that was as far as custom went. She went on as she dressed. \"I meant about a girl asking her mother's permission during the year, and the Wisdom's. I cannot say I understand that.\" The white blouse going over her head muffled her words fora moment. \"If she wants him, and she is old enough to marry, why should she need permission? But you see? By my customs,\" her tone of voice said they were the only ones that mattered, \"it is my place to choose whether to ask you, and I will not. By your customs,\" fastening her belt, she shook her head dismissively, \"I did not have my mother's permission. And you would need your father's, I suppose. Or your fatherbrother's, since your father is dead? We did not have them, so we cannot marry.\" She began folding the scarf to wraparound her forehead.\n\n\"I see,\" he said weakly. Any boy in the Two Rivers who asked his father for that kind of permission was asking to have his ears soundly boxed. When he thought of the lads who had sweated themselves silly worrying that someone, anyone, would find out what they were doing with the girl they meant to marry... For that matter, he remembered when Nynaeve caught Kimry Lewin and Bar Dowtry in Bar's father's hayloft. Kimry had had her hair braided for five years, but when Nynaeve was through with her, Mistress Lewin had taken over. The Women's Circle had nearly skinned poor Bar alive, and that was nothing to what they had done to Kimry over the month they thought was the shortest decent time to wait fora wedding. The joke told quietly, where it would not get to the Women's Circle, had been that neither Bar nor Kimry had been able to sit down the whole first week they were married. Rand supposed Kimry had failed to ask permission. \"But I guess Egwene wouldn't know all the men's customs, after all,\" he continued. \"Women don't know everything. You see, since I started it, we have to marry. It doesn't matter about permissions.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You started it?\" Her sniff was pointed and meaning. Aiel, Andoran or anything else, women used those noises like sticks, to prod or thump. \"It does not matter anyway, since we are going by Aiel customs. This will not happen again, Rand al'Thor.\" He was surprised-and pleased-to hear regret in her voice, \"You belong to the nearsister of my nearsister. I have toh to Elayne, now, but that is none of your concern. Are you going to lie there forever? I have heard that men turn lazy, after, but it cannot belong until the clans are ready to begin the morning's march. You must be there.\" Suddenly a stricken look crossed her face, and she sagged to her knees. \"If we can return. I am not certain that I remember what I did to make the hole, Rand al'Thor. You must find our way back.\"\n\nHe told her how he had blocked her gateway and could still feel it holding. She looked relieved, and even smiled at him. But it became increasingly clear as she folded her legs and arranged her skirts that she did not mean to turn her back while he dressed.\n\n\"Fair's fair,\" he muttered after along moment, and scrambled out of the blankets.\n\nHe tried to be as nonchalant as she had been, but it was not easy. He could feel her eyes like a touch even when he turned away from her. She had no call to tell him he had a pretty behind; he had not said anything about how pretty hers was. She only said it to make him blush, anyway. Women did not look at men that way. And they don't ask their mother's permission to...? He had an idea that life with Aviendha had not become one bit easier." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A Short Spear\n\nThere was little discussion. Even if the storm still raged outside, they could make it back to the gateway using the blankets and rugs for cloaks. Aviendha began dividing them while he seized saidin, filling himself with life and death, molten fire and liquid ice.\n\n\"Split them equally,\" he told her. He knew his voice was cold and emotionless. Asmodean had said he could go beyond that, but he had not managed to so far.\n\nShe gave him a surprised look, but all she said was'There is more of you to cover,\" and went on as she was.\n\nThere was no point in arguing. In his experience, from Emond's Field to the Maidens, if a woman wanted to do something for you, the only way to stop her was to tie her up, especially if it involved sacrifice on her part. The surprise was that she had not sounded acid, had not said anything about him being a soft wetlander. Maybe something good besides a memory had come out of this. She can't really mean never again. He suspected that she meant exactly that, though.\n\nWeaving a fingerthin flow of Fire, he sliced the outline of a door in one wall, widening the gap at the top. Startlingly, daylight shone through. Releasing saidin, he exchanged surprised looks with Aviendha. He knew he had lost track of time-you lost track of the year-but they could not have been inside that long. Wherever they were, it was a great distance from Cairhien.\n\nHe pushed against the block, but it did not budge until he put his back to it, dug in his heels and shoved with all of his might. Just as it occurred to him that he very probably could have done this more easily with the Power, the block toppled outward, taking him with it into cold, crisp pale daylight. Not all the way, though. It stopped at an angle, propped against snow that had built up around the hut. Lying on his back, with only a bit of his head sticking out, he could see other mounds, some smooth drifts around sparse, stunted trees that he did not recognize, others maybe burying bushes or boulders." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He opened his mouth-and forgot what he was going to say as something swept through the air not fifty feet above him, a leathery gray shape far bigger than a horse, on slowbeating widespread wings, a horny snout thrust out before and clawed feet and thin, lizardlike tail trailing behind. His head twisted on its own to follow the thing's flight over the trees. There were two people on its back; despite what seemed to be some sort of hooded garments, it was plain that they were scanning the around below. If he had had more than his head showing, if he had not been directly under the creature, they would surely have seen him.\"Leave the blankets,\" he said as he ducked back inside. He told her what he had seen. \"Maybe they'd be friendly and maybe not, but I'd as soon not find out.\" He was not sure he wanted to meet people who rode something like that in any case. If they were people. \"We are going to sneak back to the gateway. As quickly as we can, but sneaking.\"\n\nFora wonder she did not argue. When he commented on it as he was helping her climb over the ice block-that was a wonder, too; she accepted his hand without so much as a glare-she said, \"I do not argue when you make sense, Rand al'Thor.\" That was hardly the way he remembered it.\n\nThe land around them lay flat beneath its deep blanket of snow, but to the west sharp, whitetipped mountains rose, peaks wreathed in cloud. He had no difficulty knowing they lay west, for the sun was rising. Less than half its golden ball stuck above the ocean. He stared at that. The land slanted down enough for him to see waves crashing in violent spray on a rocky, boulderstrewn shore maybe half a mile away. An ocean to the east, stretching endlessly to horizon and sun. If the snow had not been enough, that told him they were in no land he knew." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Aviendha stared at the rolling breakers and pounding waves in amazement, then frowned at him as it hit home. She might never have seen an ocean, but she had seen maps.\n\nIn her skirts the snow gave her even more trouble than it did him, and he floundered, digging his way through as much as walking, sometimes sinking to his waist. She gasped as he scooped her up in his arms, and her green eyes glared.\n\n\"We have to move faster than you can dragging those skirts,\" he told her. The glare faded, but she did not put an arm around his neck, as he had halfhoped. Instead she folded her hands and put on a patient face. A bit touched with sullenness. Whatever changes what they had done might have wrought in her, she was not completely different. He could not understand why that should be a relief.\n\nHe could have melted a path through the snow as he had in the storm, but if another of those flying things came, that cleared path would lead straight to them. A foxtrotted by across the snow well to his right, pure white except fora black tip to its bushy tail, occasionally eyeing him and Aviendha warily. Rabbit tracks marred the snow in places, blurred where they had leapt, and once he saw the prints of a cat that had to be as large as a leopard. Maybe there were larger animals still, maybe some flightless relative of that leathery creature. Not something he wanted to encounter, but there was always the chance the... fliers... might take the plowed furrow he was leaving now as the track of some animal.\n\nHe still made his way from tree to tree, wishing there were more of them, and closer together. Of course, if there had been, he might not have found Aviendha in the storm-she grunted, frowning up at him, and he loosened his hold on her again-but it would surely have helped now. It was because he was creeping in that way, though, that he saw the others first." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Less than fifty paces away, between him and the gateway-right at the gateway; he could feel his weave holding it-were four people on horseback and more than twenty afoot. The mounted were all women shrouded in long thick, furlined cloaks; two of them each wore a silvery bracelet on her left wrist, connected by along leash of the same shining stuff to a bright collar tight around the neck of a grayclad, cloakless woman standing in the snow. The others afoot were men in dark leather, and armor painted green and gold, overlapping plates down their chests and the outsides of their arms and fronts of their thighs. Their spears bore greenandgold tassels, their long shields were painted in the same colors, and their helmets seemed to be the heads of huge insects, faces peering out through the mandibles. One was clearly an officer, lacking spear or shield, but with a curved, twohanded sword on his back. Silver outlined the plates of his lacquered armor, and thin green plumes, like feelers, heightened the illusion of his painted helmet. Rand knew where he and Aviendha were now. He had seen armor like that before. And women collared like that.\n\nSetting her down behind something that looked a little like a windtwisted pine, except that its trunk was smooth and gray, streaked with black, he pointed, and she nodded silently.\n\n\"The two women on leashes can channel,\" he whispered. \"Can you block them?\" Hurriedly he added, \"Don't embrace the Source yet. They're prisoners, but they still might warn the others, and even if they don't, the women with the bracelets might be able to feel them sense you.\"\n\nShe looked at him oddly, but wasted no time on foolish questions such as how he knew; they would come later, he knew. \"The women with the bracelets can channel also,\" she replied just as softly. \"It feels very strange, though. Weak. As if they had never practiced it. I cannot see how that can be.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Rand could." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Damane were the ones who were supposed to be able to channel. If two women had somehow slipped through the Seanchan net to become sul'dam instead-and from the little he knew of them, that would not be easy, for the Seanchan tested every last woman during the years that she might first show signs of channeling-they would surely never dare to betray themselves. \"Can you shield all four?\"\n\nShe gave him a very smug look. \"Of course. Egwene taught me to handle several flows at once. I can block them, tie those off, and wrap them up inflows of Air before they know what is happening.\" That selfsatisfied little smile faded. \"I am fast enough to handle them, and their horses, but that leaves the rest to you until I can bring help. If any getaway... They can surely cast those spears this far, and if one of them pins you to the ground...\" Fora moment she muttered under her breath, as if angry that she could not complete a sentence. Finally she looked at him, her gaze as furious as he had ever seen it. \"Egwene has told me of Healing, but she knows little, and I less.\"\n\nWhat could she be angry about now? Better to try understanding the sun than a woman, he thought wryly. Thom Merrilin had told him that, and it was simple truth. \"You take care of shielding those women,\" he told her. \"I will do the rest. Not until I touch your arm, though.\"\n\nHe could tell she thought he was boasting, but he would not have to split flows, only weave one intricate flow of Air that would bind arms to sides and hold horses' feet as well as human. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed hold of saidin, touched her arm and channeled." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Shocked cries rose from the Seanchan. He should have thought of gags, too, but they could be through the gateway before they attracted anyone else. Holding onto the Source, he seized Aviendha's arm and halfdragged her through the snow, ignoring her snarls that she could walk. At least this way he broke a trail for her, and they had to hurry.\n\nThe Seanchan quieted, staring as he and Aviendha made their way around in front of them. The two women who were not sul'dam had thrown back their hoods, struggling against his weave. He held it rather than tying; he would have to release it when he went anyway, for the simple reason that he could not leave even Seanchan bound in the snow. If they did not freeze to death, there was always the big cat whose tracks he had seen. Where there was one, there must be more.\n\nThe gateway was there all right, but instead of looking into his room in Eianrod, it was a gray blank. It seemed narrower than he remembered, too. Worse, he could seethe weave of that grayness. It had been woven from saidin. Furious thought slid across the Void. He could not tell what it was meant to do, yet it could easily be a trap for whoever stepped through, woven by one of the male Forsaken. By Asmodean, most likely; if the man could hand him over to the others, he might be able to regain his place among them. Yet there could be no question of staying here. If Aviendha only remembered how she had woven the gateway in the first place, she could open another, but as it was, they were going to have to use this, trap or no.\n\nOne of the mounted women, a black raven in front of a stark tower on the gray breast of her cloak, had a severe face and dark eyes that seemed to want to drill into his skull. Another, younger and paler and shorter, yet more regal, wore a silver stag's head on her green cloak. The little fingers of her riding gloves were too long. Rand knew from the shaven sides of her scalp that those long fingers covered nails grown long and no doubt lacquered, both signs of Seanchan nobility. The soldiers were stifffaced and stiffbacked, but the officer's blue eyes glittered behind the jaws of the insectlike helmet, and his gauntleted fingers writhed as he struggled futilely to reach his sword." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand did not care very much about them, but he did not want to leave the damane behind. At the least he could give them a chance to escape. They might be staring at him as they would a wild animal with bared fangs, but they had not chosen to be prisoners, treated little better than domestic animals themselves. He put a hand to the collar of the nearest, and felt a jolt that nearly numbed his arm; for an instant the Void shifted, and saidin raged through him like the snowstorm a thousandfold. The damane's short yellow hair flailed as she convulsed at his touch, screaming, and the sul'dam connected to her gasped, face going white. Both would have fallen if not held by bonds of Air.\n\n\"You try it,\" he told Aviendha, working his hand. \"A woman must be able to touch the thing safely. I don't know how it unfastens.\" It looked of apiece, linked somehow, just like bracelet and leash. \"But it went on, so it must be able to come off.\" A few moments could not make any difference to whatever had happened to the gateway. Was it Asmodean?\n\nAviendha shook her head, but began fumbling at the other woman's collar. \"Hold still,\" she growled as the damane, a palefaced girl of sixteen or seventeen, tried to flinch back. If the leashed women had looked on Rand as a wild beast, they stared at Aviendha like a nightmare made flesh.\n\n\"She is marath'damane,\" the pale girl wailed. \"Save Seri, mistress! Please, mistress! Save Seri!\" The other damane, older, almost motherly, began weeping uncontrollably. Aviendha glared at Rand as hard as she did the girl for some reason, muttering angrily under her breath as she worked at the collar." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is he, Lady Morsa,\" the other damane's sul'dam said suddenly in a soft drawl that Rand could barely understand. \"I have borne the bracelet long, and I could tell if the marath'damane had done more than block Jini.\"\n\nMorsa did not look surprised. In fact, there seemed to be alight of horrified recognition in her blue eyes as she gazed at Rand. There was only one way that could be.\n\n\"You were at Falme,\" he said. If he went through first, it meant leaving Aviendha behind, although only fora moment.\n\n\"I was.\" The noblewoman looked faint, but her slow, slurring voice was coolly imperious. \"I saw you, and what you did.\"\n\n\"Take a care I don't do the same here. Give me no trouble, and I will leave you in peace.\" He could not send Aviendha first, into the Light knew what. If emotion had not been so distant, he would have grimaced the way she was grimacing over that collar. They had to go through together, and be ready to face anything.\n\n\"Much has been kept secret about what happened in the lands of the great Hawkwing, Lady Morsa,\" the severefaced woman said. Her dark eyes were as hard on Morsa as they had been on him. \"Rumors fly that the Ever Victorious Army has tasted defeat.\"\n\n\"Do you now seek truth in rumor, Jalindin?\" Morsa asked in a cutting tone. \"A Seeker above all should know when to keep silent. The Empress herself has forbidden speech of the Corenne until she calls it again. If you-or I-speak so much as the name of the city where that expedition landed, our tongues will be removed. Perhaps you would enjoy being tongueless in the Tower of Ravens? Not even the Listeners would hear you scream for mercy, or pay heed.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand understood no more than two words in three, and it was not the odd accents. He wished he had time to listen. Corenne. The Return. That was what the Seanchan in Falme had called their attempt to seize the lands beyond the Aryth Ocean-the lands where he lived-that they considered their birthright. The rest-Seeker, Listeners, the Tower of Ravens-were a mystery. But apparently the Return had been called off, for the time being at least. That was worth knowing.\n\nThe gateway was narrower. Maybe as much as a finger width narrower than moments before. Only his block held it open; it had tried to close as soon as Aviendha released her weave, and it was still trying to.\n\n\"Hurry,\" he told Aviendha, and she gave him a look so patient it could as well have been a stone between his eyes.\n\n\"I am trying, Rand al'Thor,\" she said, still working at the collar. Tears trickled down Seri's cheeks; a continuous low moan came from her throat, as if the Aiel woman intended to slit it. \"You nearly killed the other two, and maybe yourself. I could feel the Power rushing into both of them wildly when you touched the other collar. So leave me to it, and if I can do it, I will.\" Muttering a curse, she tried at the side.\n\nRand thought about making the sul'dam remove the collars-if anyone knew how the things came off, they would-but from the set frowns on their faces, he knew he would have to force them to it. If he could not kill a woman, he could not very well torture one.\n\nWith a sigh he glanced at the gray blankness filling the gateway again. The flows appeared to be woven into his; he could not slice one without the other. Passing through might trigger the trap, but cutting away the grayness, even if that act did not trip it, would allow the gateway to snap shut before they had a chance to leap through. It would have to be a blind jump into the Light knew what." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morsa had listened carefully to every word he and Aviendha said, and now she was gazing thoughtfully at the two sul'dam, but Jalindin had never taken her eyes from the noblewoman's face. \"Much has been kept secret that should not beheld from the Seekers, Lady Morsa,\" the stern woman said. \"The Seekers must know all.\"\n\n\"You forget yourself, Jalindin,\" Morsa snapped, her gloved hands jerking; had her arms not been bound to her sides, she would have sawed the reins. As it was, she tilted hen head to stare down her nose at the other woman. \"You were sent tome because Sarek looks above himself and has designs on Serengada Dai and Tuel, not to ask of what the Empress has-\"\n\nJalindin broke in harshly. \"It is you who forgets herself, Lady Morsa, if you think that you are proof against the Seekers for Truth. I myself have put both a daughter and a son of the Empress, may the Light bless her, to the question, and ingratitude for the confessions I wrenched from them she allowed me to gaze upon her. Think you that your minor House stands higher than the Empress' own children?\"\n\nMorsa remained upright, not that she had much choice, but her face went gray, and she licked her lips. \"The Empress, may the Light illumine her forever, already knows far more than I can tell. I did not mean to imply-\"\n\nThe Seeker cut her off again, twisting her head to speak to the soldiers as if Morsa did not exist. \"The woman Morsa is in the custody of the Seekers for Truth. She will be put to the question as soon as we return to Merinloe. And the sul'dam and damane, as well. It seems they too have hidden what they should not.\" Horror painted the faces of the named women, but Morsa could have stood for any of them. Eyes wide and suddenly haggard, she slumped as much as her invisible bonds would allow, voicing not a word of protest. She looked as if she wanted to scream, yet she-accepted. Jalindin's gaze turned to Rand. \"She named you Rand al'Thor. You will be well treated if you surrender tome, Rand al'Thor. However you came here, you cannot think to escape even if you kill us. There is a wide search fora marath'damane who channeled in the night.\" Her eyes flickered to Aviendha. \"It will find you as well, inevitably, and you might be slain by accident. There is sedition in this district. I do not know how men like you are treated in your lands, but in Seanchan your sufferings can be eased. Here, you can find great honor in the use of your power.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He laughed at her, and she looked offended. \"I cannot kill you, but I vow I should stripe your hide at least for that.\" He certainly would not have to worry about being gentled in Seanchan hands. In Seanchan, men who could channel were killed. Not executed. Hunted and shot down on sight.\n\nThe grayfilled gateway was another finger narrower, barely wide enough now for both of them to pass through together. \"Leave her, Aviendha. We have to go now.\"\n\nShe released Seri's collar and gave him an exasperated look, but her eyes went past him to the gateway, and she hoisted her skirts to stump through the snow to him, muttering to herself about frozen water.\n\n\"Be ready for anything,\" he told her, putting an arm around her shoulders. He told himself they had to be close together to fit. Not because she felt good. \"I don't know what, but be ready.\" She nodded, and he said, \"Jump!\"\n\nTogether they leaped into the grayness, Rand releasing the weave that had held the Seanchan in order to fill himself to bursting with saidin...\n\n... and landed stumbling in his bedchamber in Eianrod, lamplit, with darkness outside the windows.\n\nAsmodean sat against the wall beside the door with his legs crossed. He was not embracing the Source, but Rand slammed a block between the man and saidin anyway. Whirling with his arm still around Aviendha, he found the gateway gone. No, not gone-he could still see his weaving, and what he knew must be Asmodean's-but there seemed to be nothing thereat all. Without pause he slashed his weave, and suddenly the gateway appeared, a rapidly narrowing view of Seanchan, the Lady Morsa slumped in her saddle, Jalindin shouting orders. A greenandwhite tasseled spear lanced through the opening, just before it snapped shut. Instinctively, Rand channeled Air to snatch the suddenly wobbling twofoot length of spear. The shaft ended as smoothly as any craftsman could have worked it. Shivering, he was glad that he had not tried removing the gray barrier-whatever it had been-before jumping through." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A good thing neither of the sul'dam recovered in time,\" he said, taking the severed spear in his hand, \"or we'd have had worse than this coming after us.\" He watched Asmodean from the corner of his eye, but the man only sat there, looking slightly ill. He could not know whether Rand meant to stuff that spear down his throat.\n\nAviendha's sniff washer most pointed yet. \"Do you think I released them?\" she said heatedly. She removed his arm firmly, but he did not think her temper was for him. Or not for his arm, anyway. \"I tied their shields as tightly as I could. They are your enemies, Rand al'Thor. Even the ones you called damane are faithful dogs who would have killed you rather than be free. You must be hard with your enemies, not soft.\"\n\nShe was right, he thought, hefting the spear. He had left enemies behind that he might well have to face one day. He had to become harder. Or else he would be ground to flour before he ever reached Shayol Ghul.\n\nAbruptly she began smoothing her skirts, and her voice became almost conversational. \"I notice that you did not save that wheyfaced Morsa from her fate. From the way you looked at her, I thought big eyes and around bosom had caught your eye.\"\n\nRand stared at her in amazement that oozed across the emptiness surrounding him like syrup. She could have been saying the soup was ready. He wondered how he was supposed to have noticed Morsa's bosom, hidden as it was in a furlined cloak. \"I should have brought her,\" he said. \"To question her about the Seanchan. I will be troubled by them again, I am afraid.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The glint that had appeared in her eye vanished. She opened her mouth, but stopped, glancing at Asmodean, when he raised a hand. He could all but seethe questions about Seanchan piled up behind her eyes. If he knew her, once begun she would not stop digging until she had uncovered scraps he did not even remember he knew. Which might not be a bad thing. Another time. After he had wrung a few answers out of Asmodean. She was right. He had to be hard.\n\n\"That was a smart thing you did,\" she said, \"hiding the hole I made. If a gai'shain had come inhere, a thousand of the spearsisters might have marched through seeking you.\"\n\nAsmodean cleared his throat. \"One of the gai'shain did come. Someone named Sulin had told her she must see you eat, my Lord Dragon, and to stop her from bringing the tray inhere and finding you gone, I took the liberty of telling her that you and the young woman did not want to be disturbed.\" A slight tightening of his eyes caught Rand's attention.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Just that she took it strangely. She laughed out loud and went running off. A few minutes later, there must have been twenty Far Dareis Mar beneath the window, shouting and beating their spears on their bucklers fora good hour or more. I must say, my Lord Dragon, some of the suggestions they called up startled even me.\"\n\nRand felt his cheeks burning-it had happened on the other side of the bloody world, and still the Maidens knew!-but Aviendha only narrowed her eyes.\n\n\"Did she have hair and eyes like mine?\" She did not wait for Asmodean's nod. \"It must have been my firstsister Niella.\" She saw the startled. question on Rand's face and answered it before he could speak. \"Niella is a weaver, not a Maiden, and she was taken half a year ago by Chareen Maidens during a raid on Sulara Hold. She tried to talk me out of taking the spear, and she has always wanted mewed. I am going to send her back to the Chareen with a welt on her bottom for everyone she told!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand caught her arm as she started to stalk out of the room. \"I want to talk with Natael. I don't suppose there is much time left until dawn...\"\n\n\"Two hours, maybe,\" Asmodean put in.\n\n\"... so there will belittle sleeping now. If you want to try, would you mind making your bed elsewhere for what's left of the night? You need new blankets anyway.\"\n\nShe nodded curtly before pulling loose, and slammed the door behind her. Surely she was not angry at being tossed out of his bedchamber-how could she be; she had said nothing more would happen between them-but he was glad he was not Niella.\n\nBouncing the shortened spear in his hand, he turned to Asmodean.\n\n\"A strange scepter, my Lord Dragon.\"\n\n\"It will do for one.\" To remind him that the Seanchan were still out there. For once he wished his voice was even colder than the Void and saidin made it. He had to be hard. \"Before I decide whether to skewer you with it like a lamb, why did you never mention this trick of making something invisible? If I hadn't been able to seethe flows, I'd never have known the gateway was still there.\"\n\nAsmodean swallowed, shifting as though he did not know whether Rand meant his threat. Rand was not sure himself. \"My Lord Dragon, you never asked. A matter of bending light. You always have so many questions, it is hard to find a moment to speak of anything else. You must realize by now that I've thrown my lot in with yours completely.\" Licking his lips, he got up. As far as his knees. And began to babble. \"I felt your weave-anybody within a mile could have felt it-I never saw anything like it-I didn't know that anyone but Demandred could block a gateway that was closing, and maybe Semirhage-and Lews Therin-I felt it, and came, and a hard time I had getting past those Maidens-I used the same trick-you must know I am your man now. My Lord Dragon, I am your man.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was the repetition of what the Cairhienin had said that got through as much as anything else. Gesturing with the halfspear, he said roughly, \"Stand. You aren't a dog.\" But as Asmodean slowly rose, he laid the long spearpoint alongside the man's throat. He had to be hard. \"From now on, you will tell me two things I don't ask about every time we talk. Every time, mind. If I think you are trying to hide anything from me, you will be glad to let Semirhage have you.\"\n\n\"As you say, my Lord Dragon,\" Asmodean stammered. He looked ready to bow and kiss Rand's hand.\n\nTo avoid the chance, Rand moved to the blanketless bed and sat on the linen sheet, the feather mattresses yielding under him as he studied the spear. A good idea to keep it for remembrance, if not as a scepter. Even with everything else, he had best not forget the Seanchan. Those damane. If Aviendha had not been thereto block them from the Source...\n\n\"You have tried showing me how to shield a woman and failed. Try showing me how to avoid flows I cannot see, how to counter them.\" Once Lanfear had sliced his weavings as neatly as with a knife.\n\n\"Not easy, my Lord Dragon, without a woman to practice against.\"\n\n\"We have two hours,\" Rand said coldly, letting the man's shield unravel. \"Try. Try very hard.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A Question of Crimson\n\nThe knife brushed Nynaeve's hair as it thunked into the board she was leaning against, and she flinched behind her blindfold. She wished she had a decent braid instead of locks hanging loose about her shoulders. If that blade had cut even one strand... Fool woman, she thought bitterly. Fool, fool woman. With the scarf folded over her eyes she could just see a narrow line of light at the bottom. It seemed bright, from the darkness behind the thick folds. There had to be enough light yet, even if it was late afternoon. Surely the man would not throw when he could not see properly. The next blade struck on the other side of her head; she could feel it vibrating. She thought it almost touched her ear. She was going to kill Thom Merrilin and Valan Luca. And maybe any other man she could get her hands on, on sheer principle.\n\n\"The pears,\" Luca shouted, as if he were not just thirty paces from her. He must think the blindfold made her deaf as well as blind.\n\nFumbling in the pouch at her belt, she brought out a pear and carefully balanced it atop her head. She was blind. A pure blind fool! Two more pears, and she gingerly extended her arms to either side between the knives that outlined her, holding one in either hand by the stems. There was a pause. She opened her mouth to tell Thom Merrilin that if he so much as nicked her, she would-\n\nTchunktchunktchunk! The blades came so fast she would have yelped if her throat had not contracted like a fist. She held only the stem in her left hand, the other pear trembled faintly with the knife through it, and the pear on her head leaked juice into her hair." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Snatching the scarf off, she stalked toward Thom and Luca, both of them grinning like maniacs. Before she could speak one of the words boiling up in her, Luca said admiringly, \"You are magnificent, Nana. Your bravery is magnificent, but you are more so.\" He swirled that ridiculous red silk cloak in a bow, one handover his heart. \"I shall call this \"Rose Among Thorns.\" Though truly, you are more beautiful than any mere rose.\"\n\n\"It doesn't take much bravery to stand like a stump.\" Arose, was she? She would show him thorns. She would show both of them. \"You listen tome, Valan Luca-\"\n\n\"Such courage. You never even flinch. I tell you, I would not have the stomach to do what you are doing.\"\n\nThat was the simple truth, she told herself. \"I am no braver than I have to be,\" she said in a milder tone. It was hard to shout at a man who insisted on telling you how brave you were. Certainly better to hear than all that blather about roses. Thom knuckled his long white mustaches as if he saw something funny.\n\n\"The dress,\" Luca said, showing all of his teeth in a smile. \"You will look wonderful in-\"\n\n\"No!\" she snapped. Whatever he had gained, he had just lost by bringing this up again. Clarine had made the dress Luca wanted her to wear, in silk more crimson than his cloak. It washer opinion that the color was to hide blood if Thom's hand slipped.\n\n\"But, Nana, beauty in danger is a great draw.\" Luca's voice crooned as if whispering sweetness in her ear. \"You will have every eye on you, every heart pounding for your beauty and courage.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If you like it so much,\" she said firmly, \"you wear it.\" Aside from the color, she was not about to show that much bosom in public, whether or not Clarine thought it was proper. She had seen Latelle's performing dress, all black spangles, with a high neck to her chin. She could wear something like... What was she thinking? She had no intention of actually going through with this. She had only agreed to this practice to stop Luca scratching at the wagon door every night to try convincing her.\n\nThe man was nothing if not deft at knowing when to change the subject. \"What happened here?\" he asked, suddenly all smooth solicitude.\n\nShe flinched as he touched her puffy eye. It was his bad luck to choose that. He would have done better to continue trying to stuff her into that red dress. \"I did not like the way it looked at me in the mirror this morning, so I bit it.\"\n\nHer flat tone and bared teeth made Luca snatch his hand back. From the wary gleam in his dark eyes, he suspected she might bite again. Thom was stroking his mustaches furiously, red in the face from the effort of not laughing. He knew what had happened, of course. He would. And as soon as she left, he would no doubt regale Luca with his version of events. Men could not avoid gossiping; it was in them at birth, and nothing women could do ever got it out of them.\n\nThe daylight was dimmer than she had thought. The sun sat red on the treetops to the west. \"If you ever try this again without better light...\" she growled, shaking a fist at Thom. \"It's almost dusk!\"\n\n\"I suppose,\" the man said, bushy eyebrow lifting, \"this means you want to leave out the bit where I am blindfolded?\" He was joking, of course. He had to be joking. \"As you wish, Nana. From now on, only in the most perfect light.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was not until she stalked away, swishing her skirts angrily, that she realized that she had agreed to actually do this fool thing. By implication, at least. They would try to hold her to it, as surely as the sun would set tonight. Fool, fool, fool woman!\n\nThe clearing where they-or Thom, at least, burn him and Luca both!-had been practicing stood some little distance from the camp over beside the road north. Doubtless Luca had not wanted to upset the animals should Thom put one of his knives through her heart. The man would likely have fed her corpse to the lions. The only reason he wanted her to wear that dress was so he could ogle what she had no intention of showing to anyone but Lan, and burn him, too, fora stubborn fool man. She wished she had him there so she could tell him so. She wished she had him there so she could be sure he was safe. She broke a dead dogfennel and used its feathery brown length like a whip to snap the heads off weeds that poked through the leaves on the ground.\n\nLast night, Elayne had said, Egwene reported fighting in Cairhien, skirmishes with brigands, with Cairhienin who saw any Aiel as an enemy, with Andoran soldiers trying to claim the Sun Throne for Morgase. Lan had been involved in them; whenever Moiraine let him out of her sight, he apparently managed to take himself to the fighting, as if he could sense where it would be. Nynaeve had never thought that she would want the Aes Sedai to keep Lan on a short leash at her side.\n\nThis morning Elayne had still been disturbed about her mother's soldiers being in Cairhien, fighting Rand's Aiel, but what worried Nynaeve was the brigands. According to Egwene, if anyone could identify stolen property in a brigand's possession, if anyone could swear to seeing him kill anyone or burn so much as ashed, Rand was hanging him. He did not put his hands on the rope, but it was the same thing, and Egwene said he watched every execution with a face cold and hard as the mountains. That was not like him. He had been a gentle boy. Whatever had happened to him in the Waste had been very much for the worse." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Well, Rand was faraway, and her own problems-hers and Elayne's-were no nearer solution." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The River Eldar lay less than a mile north, spanned by a single lofty stone bridge built between tall metal pillars that glistened without a speck of rust. Remnants of an earlier time, certainly, perhaps even an earlier Age. She had gone up to it at midday, right after they arrived, but there had not been a boat in the river worthy of the name. Rowboats, small fishing boats working along the reedlined banks, some strange, narrow little things that skittered over the water propelled by kneeling men with paddles, even a squat barge that looked to be moored in mud-there seemed to be a lot of mud showing on both sides, some of it dried hard and cracked, yet that was no wonder with the heat holding on so unseasonably-but nothing that could carry them swiftly away downriver as she wanted. Not that she knew where it was to take them, yet.\n\nRack her brains as she would, she could not remember the name of the town where the Blue sisters were supposed to be. She swiped savagely at a scatterhead, and it burst in little white feathers that floated to the ground. They probably were not there anymore in any case, if they ever had been. But it was the only clue they had to a safe place short of Tear. If she could only remember it.\n\nThe only good thing on the entire journey north was that Elayne had stopped flirting with Thom, There had not been an incident since joining the show. At least, it would have been good if Elayne had not apparently decided to pretend nothing had ever happened. Yesterday Nynaeve had congratulated the girl oncoming to her senses, and Elayne had coolly replied, Are you trying to find out if I will stand in your way with Thom, Nynaeve? He's rather old for you, and I did think you had planted your affections elsewhere, but you are old enough to make your own decisions. I am fond of Thom, as I think he is of me. I look on him like a second father. If you want to flirt with him, you have my permission. But I really did think you were more constant." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Luca meant to cross the river in the morning, and Samara, the town on the other side, in Ghealdan, was no fit place to be." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Luca had spent most of the day since their arrival over in Samara, securing a place to setup his show, he was only concerned that a number of other menageries had beaten him there, and he was not the only one to have more than animals. That was why he had grown particularly insistent about her letting Thom throw knives at her. She was lucky he did not want it done high walking with Elayne. The man seemed to think the most important thing in the world was that his show should be bigger and better than any other. For herself, the worrisome thing was that the Prophet was in Samara, his followers crowding the town and spilling out into tents, huts and shanties around it, a city that overwhelmed Samara's own not inconsiderable size. It had a high stonewall, and most of the buildings were stone as well, many as much as three stories, and there were more roofs of slate or tile than thatch.\n\nThis side of the Eldar was no better. They had passed three Whitecloak encampments before reaching their stopping place, hundreds of white tents in neat rows, and there had to be more they had not seen. Whitecloaks on this side of the river, the Prophet and maybe a riot waiting to happen on the other, and she had no idea whereto go and noway to get there except in a lumbering wagon that moved no faster than she could walk. She wished she had never let Elayne talk her into abandoning the coach. Not seeing a weed close enough to snap without stepping aside, she broke the dogfennel in half, then again, until the pieces were no longer than her hand, and tossed them to the ground. She wished she could do the same with Luca. And Galad Damodred, for sending them running here. And al'Lan Mandragoran, for not being here. Not that she needed him, of course. But his presence would have been... a comfort." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The camp was quiet, with evening meals cooking over small fires beside the wagons. Petra was feeding the blackmaned lion, thrusting huge pieces of meat through the bars on a stick. The female lions were already hunkered down over theirs companionably, letting out an occasional growl if someone came too close to their cage. Nynaeve stopped near Aludra's wagon; the Illuminator was working with wooden mortar and pestle on a table letdown from the side of her wagon, muttering to herself over whatever she was compounding. Three of the Chavanas smiled at Nynaeve enticingly, motioning her to join them. Not Brugh, who still glowered over his lip, though she had given him a salve to make the swelling go down. Maybe if she hit the rest of them as hard, they would listen to Luca-and more importantly, to her!-and realize that she did not want their smiles. Too bad Master Valan Luca could not follow his own instructions. Latelle turned from the bear cage and gave her a tight smile; more of a smirk, really. Mainly, though, Nynaeve stared at Cerandin, who was filing the blunt toenails of one of the huge gray s'redit with what looked like a tool suitable for metal.\n\n\"That one,\" Aludra said, \"she uses the hands and the feet with remarkable ability, no? Do not glare at me so, Nana,\" she added, dusting her hands. \"I am not your enemy. Here. You must try these new firesticks.\"\n\nNynaeve took the wooden box from the darkhaired woman gingerly. It was a cube she could have held easily with one hand, but she used both. \"I thought you called them strikers.\"\n\n\"Maybe yes, maybe no. Firesticks, it says what they are much better than strikers, yes? I have smoothed the little holes that hold the sticks so they can no longer ignite on the wood. A good idea, no? And the heads, they area new formulation. You will try them and tell me what you think?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes, of course. Thank you.\"\n\nNynaeve hurried on before the woman could press another box on her. She held the thing as if it might explode, which she was not certain it would not. Aludra had everyone trying out her strikers, or firesticks, or whatever she would decide to call them next. They certainly would light afire or a lamp. They could also burst into flame if the bluegray heads rubbed against each other or anything else rough. For herself, she would stick with flint and steel, or a coal kept properly banked in a box of sand. Much safer.\n\nJuilin caught her before she could set foot on the steps of the wagon she shared with Elayne, his gaze going straight to her swollen eye. She glared at him so hard that he stepped back and snatched that ridiculous conical cap from his head. \"I've been over the river,\" he said. \"There area hundred or so Whitecloaks in Samara... Just watching, and being watched as hard themselves by Ghealdanin soldiers. But I recognized one. The young fellow who was sitting across from The Light of Truth in Sienda.\"\n\nShe smiled at him, and he took another hasty step back, eyeing her wanly. Galad in Samara. That was all they needed. \"You always bring such wonderful news, Juilin. We should have left you in Tanchico, or better, on the dock in Tear.\" That was hardly fair. Better he told her of Galad than that she walked around a corner into the man. \"Thank you, Juilin. At least we know to keep an eye out for him, now.\" His nod was hardly a proper response to graciously offered thanks, and he hurried away, clapping his hat on, as if he expected her to hit him. Men had no manners." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The interior of the wagon was far cleaner than it had been when Thom and Juilin purchased it. The flaking paint had all been scraped off-the men had grumbled about doing that-and the cabinets and the tiny table that was fastened to the floor oiled until they shone. The small brick stove with its metal chimney was never used-the nights were warm enough, and if they began cooking inhere, Thom and Juilin would never take another turn-but it made a good place to keep their valuables, the purses and the jewelry boxes. The washleather pouch holding the seal that she had stuffed in as far as it would go and had not touched since.\n\nElayne, seated on one of the narrow beds, stuffed something under the blankets when Nynaeve climbed inside, but before she could ask what it was, Elayne exclaimed, \"Your eye! What happened to you?\" They needed to wash her hair in henpepper again; faint hints of gold were showing at the roots of those black tresses. It had to be done every few days.\n\n\"Cerandin hit me when I wasn't looking,\" Nynaeve muttered. The remembered taste of boiled catfern and powdered mavinsleaf made her tongue curl. That was not why she had let Elayne go to the last meeting in Tel'aran'rhiod, too. She was not avoiding Egwene. It was just that she made most of the journeys into the World of Dreams between meetings, and it was only fair to give Elayne her chances to go. That was it.\n\nCarefully she put the box of firesticks into one of the cabinets, next to two more. The one that had actually caught fire was long since discarded.\n\nShe did not know why she was hiding the truth. Elayne had obviously not been outside the wagon, or she would know already. She and Juilin were probably the only people in camp who did not know, now that Thom had surely revealed every disgusting detail to Luca." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Helping the author, keep the tale going.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, war\nAuthor: Robert Jordan\nTitle: The Fires of Heaven\nChapter: 29" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve stared at the woman stretched out on the other bed fora moment, then shook her head. \"I can't sleep. I need to be alone. To walk.\" Getting to her feet as stiffly as if she really had been beaten, she took her dark cloak from its peg and swung it over her shift. At the door she paused. \"If she wants to kill me,\" she said bleakly, \"I do not know that I could make myself stop her.\" She went into the night barefoot and sadfaced.\n\nElayne hesitated, unsure which woman needed her more, before settling back where she sat. Nothing she said could make things better for Nynaeve, but she had faith in the woman's resilience. Time alone to work it allover in her mind, and she would see that blame lay at Moghedien's door, not hers. She had to." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A New Name\n\nFora longtime Elayne sat there, watching Birgitte sleep. It did seem to be sleep. Once she stirred, muttering in a desperate voice, \"Wait for me, Gaidal. Wait. I'm coming, Gaidal. Wait for...\" Words trailed off into slow breath again. Was it stronger? The woman still looked deathly ill. Better than she had, but pale and drawn.\n\nAfter perhaps an hour, Nynaeve returned, her feet dirty. Fresh tears shone on her cheeks. \"I could not stay away,\" she said, hanging her cloak back on its peg. \"You sleep. I will watch her. I have to watch her.\"\n\nElayne rose slowly, smoothing her skirts. Perhaps watching over Birgitte fora time would help Nynaeve work matters out. \"I don't feel like sleeping yet, either.\" She was exhausted, but not sleepy any longer. \"I think I will stroll outside myself.\" Nynaeve only nodded as she took Elayne's place on the bed, her dusty feet dangling over the side, her eyes fastened to Birgitte.\n\nTo Elayne's surprise, Thom and Juilin were not asleep either. They had built a small fire beside the wagon and sat on either side of it, crosslegged on the ground, smoking their longstemmed pipes. Thom had tucked his shirt in, and Juilin had donned his coat, though no shirt, and turned the cuffs back. She took a look around before joining them. No one stirred in the camp, dark except for the light of this one fire and the glow of the lamps from their wagon's windows.\n\nNeither man said anything while she settled her skirts; then Juilin looked at Thom, who nodded, and the thiefcatcher took something from the ground and held it out to her. \"I found it where she was lying,\" the dark man said. \"As if it had dropped from her hand.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Elayne took the silver arrow slowly. Even the fletching feathers appeared to be silver.\n\n\"Distinctive,\" Thom said conversationally around his pipe. \"And added to the braid... Every story mentions the braid for some reason. Though I've found some I think might be her under other names, without it. And some under other names with.\"\n\n\"I do not care about stories,\" Juilin put in. He sounded no more agitated than Thom. But then, it took a great deal to agitate either one of them. \"Is it her? Bad enough if it isn't, a woman appearing naked out of nothing like that, but... What have you gotten us into, you and N... Nana?\" He was troubled; Juilin did not make mistakes, and his tongue never slipped. Thom merely bubbled at his pipe, waiting.\n\nElayne turned the arrow in her hands, pretending to study it. \"She is a friend,\" she said finally. Until-unless-Birgitte released her, her promise held. \"She is not Aes Sedai, but she has been helping us.\" They looked at her, waiting for her to say more. \"Why didn't you give this to Nynaeve?\"\n\nOne of those glances passed between them-men seemed to carry on entire conversations through glances, around women at least-saying as clearly as spoken words what they thought of her keeping secrets. Especially when they all but knew for certain already. But she had given her word.\n\n\"She seemed upset,\" Juilin said, sucking at his pipe judiciously, and Thom took his from between his teeth and blew out his white mustaches.\n\n\"Upset? The woman came out in her shift, looking lost, and when I asked if I could help her, she didn't snap my head off. She cried on my shoulder!\" He plucked at his linen shirt, muttering something about dampness. \"Elayne, she apologized for every crossword she has ever said tome, which is very nearly every other word out of her mouth. Said she ought to be switched, or maybe that she had been; she was incoherent half the time. She said she was a coward, and a stubborn fool. I don't know what is the matter with her, but she isn't herself by a mile.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I knew a woman who behaved like this, once,\" Juilin said, peering into the fire. \"She woke to find a burglar in her bedchamber and stabbed the man through the heart. Only, when she lit a lamp, it washer husband. His boat had comeback to the docks early. She walked around like Nynaeve for half a month.\" His mouth tightened. \"Then she hanged herself.\"\n\n\"I hate to lay this burden on you, child,\" Thom added gently, \"but if she can be helped, you are the only one of us who can do it. I know how to take a man out of his miseries. Give him a swift kick, or else get him drunk and find him a pr-\" He harrumphed loudly, trying to make it seem a cough, and knuckled his mustaches. The one bad thing about him seeing her as a daughter was that now sometimes he seemed to think she was perhaps twelve. \"Anyway, the point is that I do not know how to do this. And while Juilin might be willing to dandle heron his knee, I doubt she'd thank him for it.\"\n\n\"I would sooner dandle a fangfish,\" the thiefcatcher muttered, but not as roughly as he would have yesterday. He was as concerned as Thom, though less willing to admit it.\n\n\"I will do what I can,\" she assured them, turning the arrow again. They were good men, and she did not like lying to them, or hiding things from them. Not unless it was absolutely necessary, anyway. Nynaeve claimed that you had to manage men for their own good, but there was such a thing as taking it too far. It was not right to lead a man into dangers he knew nothing of.\n\nSo she told them. About Tel'aran'rhiod and the Forsaken being loose, about Moghedien. Not quite everything, of course. Some events in Tanchico had been too shaming for her to want to think of them. Her promise held her concerning Birgitte's identity, and there was certainly no need to go into detail about what Moghedien had done to Nynaeve. It made explaining this night's happenings a little difficult, yet she managed. She did tell them everything she thought they should know, enough to make them aware for the first time what they were really up against. Not just the Black Ajah-that had certainly made them stare crosseyed when they learned it-but the Forsaken, and one of them very likely hunting her and Nynaeve. And she made it quite plain that they two would be hunting Moghedien as well, and that anyone close to them was in danger of being caught between hunter and prey either way." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Now that you know,\" she finished, \"the choice to stay or go is yours.\" She left it at that, and was careful not to look at Thom. She hoped almost desperately that he would stay, but she would not let him think that she was asking, not by so much as a glance.\n\n\"I haven't taught you half what you need to know if you're to be as good a queen as your mother,\" he said, trying to sound gruff and spoiling it by brushing a strand of blackdyed hair from her cheek with a gnarled finger. \"You'll not rid yourself of me this easily, child. I mean to see you mistress of Daes Dae'mar if I must drone in your ear until you go deaf. I haven't even taught you to handle a knife. I tried to teach your mother, but she always said she could tell a man to use a knife if one needed using. Fool way to look at it.\"\n\nShe leaned forward and kissed his leathery cheek, and he blinked, bushy eyebrows shooting up, then smiled and stuck his pipe back into his mouth.\n\n\"You can kiss me, too,\" Juilin said dryly. \"Rand al'Thor will have my guts for fish bait if I don't hand you back to him in the same health he last saw you.\"\n\nElayne lifted her chin. \"I will not have you stay for Rand al'Thor, Juilin.\" Hand her back? Indeed! \"You will stay only if you want to. And I do not release you-or you, Thom!\"-he had grinned at the thiefcatcher's comment-\"from your promise to do as you are told.\" Thom's startled look was quite satisfying. She turned back to Juilin. \"You will follow me, and Nynaeve of course, knowing full well the enemies we face, or you may pack your belongings and ride Skulker where you wish. I will give him to you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Juilin sat up straight as a post, his dark face going darker." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have never abandoned a woman in danger in my life.\" He pointed his pipestem at her like a weapon. \"You send me away, and I will be on your heels like a soarer on a sternchase.\"\n\nNot exactly what she wanted, but it would do. \"Very well, then.\" Rising, she held herself erect, the silver arrow at her side, and kept her slightly frosty manner. She thought they had finally realized who was in charge. \"Morning is not far off.\" Had Rand actually had the nerve to tell Juilin to'hand her back\"? Thom would just have to suffer along with the other man fora time, and it served him right for that grin. \"You will putout this fire and go to sleep. Now. No excuses, Thom. You'll be no good at all tomorrow without sleep.\"\n\nObediently they began scuffing dirt over the flames with their boots, but when she reached the plain wooden steps of the wagon, she heard Thom say, \"Sounds like her mother sometimes.\"\n\n\"Then I am glad I have never met the woman,\" Juilin grumbled in reply. \"Flip for first guard?\" Thom murmured an assent.\n\nShe almost went back, but found herself smiling instead. Men! It was a fond thought. Her good mood lasted until she was inside.\n\nNynaeve sat on the very edge of the bed, holding herself up with both hands, eyes trying to drift shut as she watched Birgitte. Her feet were still dirty.\n\nElayne put Birgitte's arrow into one of the cupboards behind some rough sacks of dried peas. Luckily, the other woman never so much as glanced at her. She did not think the sight of the silver arrow was what Nynaeve needed right at that moment. But what was?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Nynaeve, it is past time for you to wash your feet and go to sleep.\"\n\nNynaeve swayed in her direction, blinking sleepily. \"Feet? What? I must watch her.\"\n\nIt would have to be one step at a time. \"Your feet, Nynaeve. They are dirty. Wash them.\"\n\nFrowning, Nynaeve peered down at her dusty feet, then nodded. She spilled water tipping the big white pitcher over the washbasin, and sloshed more out before she was washed and ready to towel dry, but even then she resumed her seat. \"I must watch. In case... In case... She cried out once. For Gaidal.\"\n\nElayne pressed her back on the mattress. \"You need sleep, Nynaeve. You can't keep your eyes open.\"\n\n\"I can,\" Nynaeve muttered sullenly, trying to sit up against Elayne's pressure on her shoulders. \"I must watch her, Elayne. I must.\"\n\nNynaeve made the two men outside look sensible and biddable. Even if Elayne had had a mind to, there was noway to get her drunk and find her a-a pretty young man, she supposed it would have to be. That left a swift kick. Sympathy and commonsense had surely made no impression. \"I have had enough of this sulking and selfpity, Nynaeve,\" she said firmly. \"You are going to sleep now, and in the morning you are not going to say one word about what a miserable wretch you are. If you cannot behave like the clearheaded woman you are, I will ask Cerandin to give you two black eyes for the one I took away. You did not even thank me for that. Now go to sleep!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve's eyes widened indignantly-at least she did not look on the point of tears-but Elayne slid them shut with her fingers. They closed easily, and despite softly murmured protests, the deep slow breath of sleep followed quickly.\n\nElayne patted Nynaeve's shoulder before straightening. She hoped it was a peaceful sleep, with dreams of Lan, but any sort of sleep was better for her now than none. Fighting a yawn, she bent to check Birgitte. She could not tell whether the woman's color or breathing was any better. There was nothing to do but wait and hope.\n\nThe lamps did not seem to be bothering either of the women, so she left them alight and sat on the floor between the beds. They should help keep her awake. Not that she knew why she should remain awake, really. She had done what she could as much as Nynaeve had. Unthinkingly she leaned back against the front wall, and her chin sank slowly to her chest.\n\nThe dream was a pleasant one, if odd. Rand knelt before her, and she put a hand on his head and bonded him as her Warder. One of her Warders; she would have to choose Green now, with Birgitte. There were other women there, faces changing between one glance and the next. Nynaeve, Min, Moiraine, Aviendha, Berelain, Amathera, Liandrin, others she did not know. Whoever they were, she knew that she had to share him with them, because in the dream she was certain that that was what Min had viewed. She was not sure how she felt about that-some of those faces she wanted to claw to shreds-but if it was fated by the Pattern, it would have to be. Yet she would have one thing of him the others could never have, the bond between Warder and Aes Sedai." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Where is this place?\" Berelain said, ravenhaired and so beautiful that Elayne wanted to bare her teeth. The woman wore the lowcut red dress that Luca wanted Nynaeve to wear; she always dressed revealingly. \"Wake up. This is not Tel'aran'rhiod.\"\n\nElayne started awake to find Birgitte leaning over the side of the bed, gripping her arm weakly. Her face was too pale, and damp with sweat as if a fever had broken, but her blue eyes were sharp and intent on Elayne's face.\n\n\"This is not Tel'aran'rhiod.\" It was not a question, but Elayne nodded, and Birgitte sank back with along sigh. \"I remember everything,\" she whispered. \"I am here as I am, and I remember. All is changed. Gaidal is out there, somewhere, an infant, or even a young boy. But even if I find him, what will he think of a woman more than old enough to be his mother?\" She scrubbed angrily at her eyes, muttering, \"I do not cry. I never cry. I remember that, the Light help me. I never cry.\"\n\nElayne got upon her knees beside the woman's bed. \"You will find him, Birgitte.\" She kept her voice low. Nynaeve still seemed sound asleep-a small, rasping snore rose from her regularly-but she needed rest, not to confront this allover again now. \"Somehow you will. And he will love you. I know he will.\"\n\n\"Do you think that is what matters? I could stand him not loving me.\" Her glistening eyes gave her the lie. \"He will need me, Elayne, and I will not be there. He always has more courage than is good for him; I always must supply him with caution. Worse, he will wander, searching for me, not knowing what he is looking for, not knowing why he feels incomplete. We are always together, Elayne. Two halves of a whole.\" The tears welled up, flowing across her face. \"Moghedien said she would make me cry forever, and she...\" Suddenly her features contorted; low ragged sobs came as if ripped from her throat." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Elayne gathered the taller woman into her arms, murmuring words of comfort she knew were useless. How would she feel if Rand were taken away from her? The thought was nearly enough to make her put her head down atop Birgitte's and join her weeping.\n\nShe was not sure how long it took Birgitte to cry herself out, but eventually she pushed Elayne away and settled back, wiping her cheeks with her fingers. \"I have never done that except as a small child. Never.\" Twisting her neck, she frowned at Nynaeve, still asleep on the other bed. \"Did Moghedien hurt her badly? I have not seen anyone trussed like that since the Tourag took Mareesh.\" Elayne must have looked confused, because she added, \"In another Age. Is she hurt?\"\n\n\"Not badly. Her spirit, mainly. What you did allowed her to escape, but only after...\" Elayne could not make herself say it. Too many wounds were too fresh. \"She blames herself. She thinks that... everything... is her fault, for asking you to help.\"\n\n\"If she had not asked me, Moghedien would be teaching her to beg right now. She has as little caution as Gaidal.\" Birgitte's dry tone sounded odd with her wet cheeks. \"She did not drag me into this by my hair. If she claims responsibility for the consequences, then she claims responsibility for my actions.\" If anything, she sounded angry. \"I am a free woman, and I made my own choices. She did not decide for me.\"\n\n\"I must say you are, taking this better than... I would.\" She could not say'better than Nynaeve.\" That was true, but the other was as well.\n\n\"I always say, if you must mount the gallows, give a jest to the crowd, a coin to the hangman, and make the drop with a smile on your lips.\" Birgitte's smile was grim. \"Moghedien sprang the trap, but my neck is not yet snapped. Perhaps I will surprise her before it is done.\" The smile faded into a frown as she studied Elayne. \"I can... feel you. I think I could close my eyes and point to you a mile away.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Elayne took a very deep breath. \"I bonded you as a Warder,\" she said in a rush. \"You were dying, and Healing did no good, and...\" The woman was looking at her. Not frowning anymore, but her eyes were disconcertingly sharp. \"There was no other choice, Birgitte. You would have died, else.\"\n\n\"A Warder,\" Birgitte said slowly. \"I think I remember hearing a tale of a female Warder, but it was in a life so long ago that I cannot remember more than that.\"\n\nIt was time for another deep breath, and this time she had to force the words. \"There is something you should know. You will discover it sooner or later, and I've decided not to keep things from people who have aright to know, not unless I absolutely must.\" A third breath. \"I am not Aes Sedai. I am only Accepted.\"\n\nFora long moment, the goldenbraided woman stared up at her, then slowly shook her head. \"An Accepted. In the Trolloc Wars, I knew an Accepted who bonded a fellow. Barashelle was due to be tested the next day for raising to full Aes Sedai, and certain to be given the shawl, but she was afraid that a woman testing that same day would take him. In the Trolloc Wars, the Tower tried to raise women as quickly as possible, from necessity.\"\n\n\"What happened?\" Elayne could not stop herself from asking. Barashelle? That name sounded familiar.\n\nLacing her fingers over the blanket atop her bosom, Birgitte shifted her head on the pillow and put on a look of mock sympathy. \"Needless to say, she was not allowed to take the tests once it was discovered. Necessity did not outweigh such an offense. They made her pass the poor fellow's bond to another, and to teach her patience, put her into the kitchens among the scullions and spitgirls. I heard that she stayed there three years, and when she did receive her shawl, the Amyrlin Seat herself chose her Warder, a leatherfaced, stonestubborn man named Anselan. I saw them a few years after, and I could not tell which of them gave the commands. I do not think Barashelle was certain either.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Not pleasant,\" Elayne muttered." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Three years in the... Wait. Barashelle and Anselan? It could not be the same pair, that story said nothing about Barashelle being Aes Sedai. But she had read two versions and heard Thom tell another, and all had Barashelle doing some long, arduous service to earn Anselan's love. Two thousand years could change a great deal in a story.\n\n\"Not pleasant,\" Birgitte agreed, and suddenly her eyes were much too large and innocent in her paleface. \"I suppose, since you wish me to keep your dreadful secret, you will not ride meas hard as some Aes Sedai ride their Warders. It would not do to push me to tell just to escape you.\"\n\nElayne's chin came up instinctively. \"That sounds very like a threat. I do not take well to threats, from you or anyone else. If you think-\"\n\nThe reclining woman caught her arm and cut her off apologetically; her grip was noticeably stronger. \"Please. I did not intend it that way. Gaidal claims I have a sense of humor like a rock tossed into a shojacircle.\" A cloud swept across her face at Gaidal's name, and was gone. \"You saved my life, Elayne. I will keep your secret and serve you as Warder. And be your friend, if you will have me.\"\n\n\"I will be proud to have you for friend.\" Shojacircle? She would ask another time. Birgitte might be stronger, but she needed rest, not questions. \"And for Warder.\" It seemed that she really was going to choose the Green Ajah; aside from everything else, that was the only way she could bond Rand., The dream was still clear in her mind, and she intended to convince him to accept it one way or another. \"Perhaps you could try to... moderate your sense of humor?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I will try.\" Birgitte sounded as if she were saying she would try to pickup a mountain. \"But if I am to be your Warder, even in secret, then I will be Warder to you. You can barely hold your eyes open. It is time for you to sleep.\" Elayne's eyebrows and chin shot up together, but the woman gave her no opportunity to speak. \"Among many other things, it is a Warder's place to tell his-her-Aes Sedai when she pushes herself too hard. Also to provide a dose of caution when she thinks she can walk into the Pit of Doom. And to keep her alive so she can do what she must. I will do these things for you. Never fear for your back when I am near, Elayne.\"\n\nShe did need sleep, she supposed, but Birgitte needed it more. Elayne dimmed the lamps and got the woman settled and asleep, though not until Birgitte had seen her put a pillow and blankets on the floor between the beds for herself. There was some slight argument over who would sleep on the floor, but Birgitte was still weak enough that Elayne had no trouble making her stay in the bed. Well, not very much anyway. At least Nynaeve's soft snore never broke.\n\nShe herself did not go to sleep immediately, whatever she had told Birgitte. The woman could not put her nose outside the wagon until she had something to wear, and she was taller than Elayne or Nynaeve. Sitting down between the beds, Elayne began letting out the hem on her dark gray silk riding dress. There would hardly be time in the morning for more than a quick fitting and stitching the new hem. Sleep overtook her with her ripping no more than half done." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She had the dream of bonding Rand again, more than once. Sometimes he knelt voluntarily, and sometimes she had to do what she had done with Birgitte, even sneaking into his bedchamber while he slept. Birgitte was one of the other women now. Elayne did not mind that too much. Not her, or Min, or Egwene, or Aviendha, or Nynaeve, though she could not imagine what Lan would say to that last. Others, though... She had just ordered Birgitte, in a Warder's colorshifting cloak, to drag Berelain and Elaida to the kitchens for three years, when suddenly the two women began pummeling her. She awakened to find Nynaeve trampling her to reach Birgitte and check on the woman. The gray light just before dawn showed in the small windows.\n\nBirgitte woke claiming she was as strong as ever, and ravenous besides. Elayne was not certain whether Nynaeve had finished her bout of selfblame. She did not wring her hands or speak of it, but while Elayne washed her face and hands, and explained about the menagerie and why they had to remain with it awhile longer, Nynaeve hastily peeled and cored red pears and yellow apples, sliced cheese, and handed it all to Birgitte on a plate with a cup of watered wine with honey and spices. She would have fed the woman had Birgitte let her. Nynaeve washed Birgitte's hair in white henpepper herself, until it was as black as Elayne's-Elayne did her own, of course-donated her best stockings and shift, and looked disappointed when a pair of Elayne's slippers fit better. She insisted on helping Birgitte into the gray silk as soon as her hair had been toweled dry and braided again-the hips and bosom needed letting out, too, but that would have to wait-and even wanted to stitch the hem herself, until Elayne's incredulous stare made her retreat to her own ablutions, muttering as she scrubbed her face that she could sew as well as anyone. When she wanted to." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When they went outside at last, the first sharp golden edge of the sun was peeking above the trees to the east. For this little while, the day felt deceptively comfortable. There was not a cloud to be seen in the sky, and by noon the air would be hot and gritty:\n\nThom and Juilin were hitching the team to the wagon, and the whole camp bustled in preparation for moving. Skulker was already saddled, and Elayne made a note to herself to speak up about riding today herself before one of the men took possession of the saddle. Even if Thom or Juilin got there first, though, she would not be too disappointed. This very afternoon she would highwalk in front of people for the first time. The costume Luca had shown her made her a little nervous, but at least she was not moaning about it as Nynaeve did.\n\nLuca himself came striding rapidly through the camp, red cloak fluttering behind, chivvying and shouting unneeded instructions. \"Latelle, wake those bloody bears! I want them on their feet, snarling, when we drive through Samara. Clarine, you watch those dogs this time. If one of them goes chasing after a cat again... Brugh, you and your brothers do your tumbling just ahead of my wagon, mind. Just ahead. This is supposed to be a stately procession, not a race to see which of you can backflip the fastest! Cerandin, keep those boarhorses in hand. I want people to gasp in amazement, not run in terror!\"\n\nHe stopped at their wagon, glowering at Nynaeve and herself equally with a bit leftover for Birgitte. \"Kind of you to decide to come with the rest of us, Mistress Nana, my Lady Morelin. I thought you meant to sleep until midday.\" He nodded toward Birgitte. \"Having a chat with someone from across the river, are you? Well, we've no time for visitors. I mean to beset up and performing by noon.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve looked taken aback by the onslaught, but by the end of his second sentence she was meeting him glare for glare. Whatever her awkwardness toward Birgitte, it apparently did not hinder her temper where others were concerned. \"We will be ready as soon as anyone, and you know it, Valan Luca. Besides, an hour or two will make no difference anyway. There are enough people gathered on the other side of the river that if one in a hundred comes to your show it will be more than you ever dreamed. If we decide to make a leisurely breakfast, you can just twiddle your thumbs and wait. You'll not get what you want if you leave us behind.\"\n\nThat washer bluntest reminder yet of the promised hundred gold marks, but for once it did not slow him. \"Enough people? Enough people! People must be attracted, woman. Chin Akima has been in place three days, and he has a fellow who juggles swords and axes. And nine acrobats. Nine! Some woman I've never heard of has two women acrobats who do things on a hanging rope that would make the Chavanas\" eyes pop. You would not believe the crowds. Sillia Cerano has men with their faces painted like court fools, splashing each other with water and hitting each other over the head with bladders, and people are paying an extra silver penny just to watch!\" Suddenly his eyes narrowed, focusing on Birgitte. \"Would you be willing to paint your face? Sillia doesn't have a woman among her fools. Some of the horse handlers would be willing. It doesn't hurt, getting hit with an inflated bladder, and I will pay you...\" He trailed off, musing-he did not like parting with money anymore than Nynaeve did-and Birgitte spoke into his momentary silence." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am not a fool, and will not be a fool. I am an archer.\"\n\n\"An archer,\" he muttered, eyeing the intricate glossy black braid pulled over her left shoulder. \"And I suppose you call yourself Birgitte. What are you? One of those idiots hunting the Horn of Valere? Even if the thing exists, what chance anyone of you will find it more than another? I was in Illian when the Hunters' oaths were given, and there were thousands in the Great Square of Tammaz. But for glory that you can attain, nothing can outshine the applause of-\"\n\n\"I am an archer, pretty man,\" Birgitte broke in firmly. \"Fetch a bow, and I will outshoot you or anyone you name, a hundred crowns gold to your one.\" Elayne expected Nynaeve to yelp-it was they who would have to cover the wager if Birgitte lost, and whatever she claimed, Elayne did not think Birgitte could be fully recovered already-yet all Nynaeve did was close her eyes briefly and draw a deep, long breath.\n\n\"Women!\" Luca growled. Thom and Juilin did not have to look as if they agreed. \"You area fine match for the Lady Morelin and Nana, or whatever their names are.\" He swept his silk cloak in a wide gesture at the surrounding hustle of men and horses. \"It may have escaped your keen eye, Brigitte, but I have a show to get underway, and my rivals are already draining Samara of coin like the cutpurses they are.\"\n\nBirgitte smiled, a slight curving of her lips. \"Are you afraid, pretty man? We can make your side a silver penny.\"\n\nElayne thought Luca might have apoplexy from the color that crept into his face. His neck suddenly looked too big for his collar. \"I will fetch my bow,\" he almost hissed. \"You can work off the hundred marks with your face painted, or cleaning cages for all I care!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Are you sure that you are well enough?\" Elayne asked Birgitte as he stalked off muttering to himself. The only word she caught was a repeat of'women!\" Nynaeve was looking at the woman with the braid as if she wanted the ground to open and swallow her; herself, not Birgitte. A number of the horse handlers had gathered around Thom and Juilin for some reason.\n\n\"He has nice legs,\" Birgitte said, \"but I have never liked tall men. Add a pretty face, and they are always insufferable.\"\n\nPetra had joined the group of men, twice as wide as any other. He said something, then shook hands with Thom. The Chavanas were there as well. And Latelle, talking earnestly with Thom while darting dark looks at Nynaeve and the two women with her. By the time Luca returned with an unstrung bow and a quiver of arrows, no one was making preparations any longer. The wagons and horses and cages-even the tethered boarhorses-stood abandoned, the people all clustered around Thom and the thiefcatcher. They followed as Luca led the way a short distance out of the camp.\n\n\"I am accounted a fair shot,\" he said, carving a white cross chesthigh to himself on the trunk of a tail oak. He had some of his jauntiness back, and he swaggered as he strode off fifty paces. \"I will take the first shot, so you can see what you face.\"\n\nBirgitte plucked the bow from his hand and walked off another fifty as he stared after her. She shook her head over the bow, but braced it on her slippered foot and strung it in one smooth motion before Luca joined her and Elayne and Nynaeve. Birgitte pulled an arrow from the quiver he held, examined it a moment, then tossed it aside like rubbish. Luca frowned and opened his mouth, but she was already discarding a second shaft. The next three went to the leafcovered ground as well before she stuck one pointdown in the soil beside her. Of twentyone, she kept only four." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"She can do it,\" Elayne whispered, trying to sound certain. Nynaeve nodded bleakly; if they had to payout a hundred gold crowns, they would soon be selling the jewelry Amathera had given them. The lettersofrights were all but useless, as she had explained to Nynaeve; their use would eventually point a finger to where they had been for Elaida, if not where they were. If I had just spoken up in time, I could have stopped this. As my Warder, she has to do as I say. Doesn't she? From the evidence so far, obedience was no part of the bond. Had those Aes Sedai she had spied on made the men give oaths as well? Now that she thought of it, she believed one of them had.\n\nBirgitte nocked an arrow, raised the bow, and loosed seemingly without pausing to aim. Elayne winced, but the steel point struck dead center in the middle of the carved white cross. Before it stopped quivering, the second brushed in beside it. Birgitte did wait a moment then, but only for the two arrows to still. A gasp rose from the onlookers as the third shaft split the first, but that was nothing to the absolute silence as the last split the other just as neatly. Once could have been chance. Twice...\n\nLuca looked as if his eyes were coming out of his head. Mouth hanging open, he stared at the tree, then at Birgitte, at the tree then Birgitte. She proffered the bow, and he shook his head weakly.\n\nSuddenly he flung the quiver away, spreading his arms wide with a glad cry. \"Not knives! Arrows! From a hundred paces!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve sagged against Elayne as the man explained what he wanted, but she made not one sound of protest. Thom and Juilin were collecting money; most handed over coins with a sigh or a laugh, but Juilin had to snag Latelle's arm as she tried to slip away, and speak some angry words before she dug coins from her pouch. So that was what they had been up to. She would have to speak to them firmly. But later. \"Nana, you don't have to go through with this.\" The woman only stared at Birgitte, eyes haggard.\n\n\"Our wager?\" Birgitte said when Luca ran out of wind. He grimaced, then fished slowly into his pouch and tossed her a coin. Elayne caught the glint of gold in the sun as Birgitte examined it, then tossed it right back. \"The bet was a silver penny on your part.\"\n\nLuca's eyes widened in startlement, but the next moment he was laughing and pressing the gold crown into her hand. \"You are worth every copper of it. What do you say? Why, the Queen of Ghealdan herself might come to see a performance such as yours. Birgitte and her arrows. We will paint them silver, and the bow!\"\n\nDesperately Elayne wanted Birgitte to look at her. They might as well put up a sign for Moghedien as do what the man suggested.\n\nBut Birgitte only bounced the coin on her hand, grinning. \"Paint will ruin an already shabby bow,\" she said finally. \"And call me Maerion; I was called that, once.\" Leaning on the bow, she let her smile widen. \"Can I have a red dress, too?\"\n\nElayne heaved a sigh of fervent relief. Nynaeve looked as if she were going to sick up." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Performances in Samara\n\nFor what seemed the hundredth time, Nynaeve held a lock of her hair up to look at it and sighed. Thick murmurs of talk and laughter from hundreds if not thousands of throats, distant music that was nearly drowned out, drifted in through the wagon walls. She had not minded spending the parade through the streets of Samara in the wagon with Elayne-occasional peeks through the windows had convinced her that she would just as soon not be put in those packed crowds, yelling and barely making way for the wagons-but every time she looked at the brassy red of her hair, she wished she had been doing somersaults with the Chavanas rather than dyeing it.\n\nCarefully not looking at herself, she wrapped up completely in her plain dark gray shawl, turned, and gave a start to find Birgitte standing in the doorway. The woman had ridden in Clarine and Petra's wagon during the parade, with Clarine altering a spare red dress she had been making for Nynaeve at Luca's direction; he had given Clarine her instructions before Nynaeve ever agreed. Birgitte wore it now, her blackdyed braid pulled over her shoulder so it nestled between her breasts, totally unconscious of the low square neck. Just looking at her made Nynaeve fold her shawl tighter; Birgitte could not show a fingernail more of pale bosom and retain the slightest claim to decency. As it was, such a claim would be feeble, really quite laughable. Looking at her made Nynaeve's stomach knot up, but not for reasons of clothes or skin.\n\n\"If you are going to wear the dress, why cover up?\" Birgitte came inside and closed the door behind her. \"You area woman. Why not be proud of it?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If you think I shouldn't,\" Nynaeve replied hesitantly, and slowly let the shawl slide down to her elbows, revealing the twin of the other woman's garment. She felt all but naked. \"I only thought... I thought...\" Gripping her silk skirts hard to keep her hands at her sides, she held her gaze on the other woman. Even knowing she wore exactly the same herself, it was easier that way.\n\nBirgitte grimaced. \"And if I wanted you to lower the neck another inch?\"\n\nNynaeve opened her mouth, face going as scarlet as the gown, but fora moment nothing came out. When it did, she sounded as if she were being strangled. \"There isn't an inch to lower it. Look at your own. There isn't a tenth!\"\n\nThree quick, frowning strides, and Birgitte bent slightly to put her face right in Nynaeve's. \"And if I said I wanted you to rid yourself of that inch?\" she snarled, showing teeth. \"What if I wanted to paint your face, so Luca could have his fool? What if I stripped you out of it altogether and painted you from head to toe? A fine target you would make then. Every man inside fifty miles would come to see.\"\n\nNynaeve's mouth worked, but this time no sound emerged at all. She wanted very much to close her eyes; maybe when she opened them, none of this would be happening.\n\nWith a disgusted shake of her head, Birgitte took a seat on one of the beds, one elbow on her knee and her blue eyes sharp. \"This must stop. When I look at you, you flinch. You runabout waiting on me hand and foot. If I glance fora stool, you fetch one. If I lick my lips, you have a cup of wine in my hands before I know I am thirsty. You would wash my back and put the slippers on my feet if I let you. I am neither monster nor invalid nor child, Nynaeve.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am only trying to makeup for-\" she began timidly, and jumped when the other woman roared.\n\n\"Makeup? You are trying to make me less!\"\n\n\"No. No, it is not that, truly. I am to blame-\"\n\n\"You take responsibility for my actions,\" Birgitte broke in fiercely. \"I chose to speak to you in Tel'aran'rhiod. I chose to help you. I chose to track Moghedien. And I chose to take you to see her. Me! Not you, Nynaeve, me! I was not your puppet, your pack hound, then, and I will not be now.\"\n\nNynaeve swallowed hard and gripped her skirts more tightly. She had no right to be angry with this woman. No right at all. But Birgitte had every right. \"You did what I asked. It is my fault that you... that you are here. It is all my fault!\"\n\n\"Have I mentioned fault? I see none. Only men and dimwitted girls take blame where there is none, and you are neither.\"\n\n\"It was my foolish pride that made me think I could best her again, and my cowardice that let her... that let her... If I had not been so afraid I could not spit, I might have done something in time.\"\n\n\"A coward?\" Birgitte's eyes widened, openly incredulous, and scorn touched her voice. \"You? I thought you had more sense than to confuse fear with cowardice. You could have fled Tel'aran'rhiod when Moghedien released you, but you stayed to fight. No fault or blame to you that you could not.\" Drawing a deep breath, she rubbed her forehead fora moment, then leaned forward intently again. \"Listen tome close, Nynaeve. I take no blame for what was done to you. I saw, but I could not twitch. Had Moghedien tied you into a knot or cored you like an apple, still I would take no blame. I did what I could, when I could. And you did the same.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It was not the same.\" Nynaeve tried to take the heat out of her voice. \"It was my fault that you were there. My fault that you are here. If you...\" She stopped to swallow again. \"If you... miss... when you shoot at me today, I want you to know that I will understand.\"\n\n\"I do not miss where I aim,\" Birgitte said dryly, \"and where I aim will not beat you.\" She began taking things from one of the cabinets and laying them on the small table. Halffinished arrows, scraped shafts, steel arrow points, stone glue pot, fine cord, gray goose feathers for fletchings. She had said she would make her own bow, too, as soon as she could. Luca's she called'a knotriddled branch broken from a crossgrained tree by a blind idiot in the middle of the night.\"\n\n\"I liked you, Nynaeve,\" she said as she laid everything out. \"Thorns, warts and all. I no longer do, as you are now...\"\n\n\"You have no reason to like me, now,\" Nynaeve said miserably, but the other woman spoke right over her without looking up.\n\n\"... and I will not allow you to make me less, to make my decisions less, by claiming responsibility for them. I have had few women friends, but most have had tempers like snowghosts.\"\n\n\"I wish you could be my friend once more.\" What under the Light was a snowghost? Something from another Age, no doubt. \"I would never try to make you less, Birgitte. I only-\"\n\nBirgitte paid her no mind, except to raise her voice. Her attention seemed all on her arrow shafts. \"I would like to like you again, whether you return the liking or not, but I cannot until you are yourself again. I could live with you a milktongued sniveling wretch if that was what you were. I take people as they are, not as I would like them to be, or else I leave them. But that is not what you are, and I will not accept your reasons for playing at it. So. Clarine told me of your encounter with Cerandin. Now I know what to do the next time you claim my decisions as your own.\" She swished a length of ashwood vigorously. \"I am sure Latelle will be happy to provide the switch.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Nynaeve forced her jaws to unclench, forced her tone as smooth as she could make it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You have a perfect right to do whatever you wish tome.\" Her fists in her skirts quivered more than her voice.\n\n\"A touch of temper showing? Just at the edges?\" Birgitte grinned at her, at once amused and startlingly feral. \"How long before it bursts into flame? I am willing to wear out any number of switches, if need be.\" The grin faded into seriousness. \"I will make you seethe right of this, or I will drive you away. There is no other course. I cannot-will not-leave Elayne. That bond honors me, and I will honor it, and her. And I will not allow you to think that you make my decisions, or made them. I am myself, not an appendage to you. Now go away. I must finish these arrows if I am to have even a few shafts that will fly true. I do not mean to kill you, and I would not have it happen by accident.\" Unstopping the glue pot, she bent over the table. \"Do not forget to curtsy like a good girl on your way out.\"\n\nNynaeve made it as far as the foot of the steps before pounding her fist on her thigh in a fury. How dare the woman? Did she think that she could just...? Did she think that Nynaeve would put up with...? I thought she could do anything she wanted to you, a small voice whispered in her head. I said she could kill me, she snarled at it, not humiliate me! Before much longer everybody would be threatening her with that bloody Seanchan woman!\n\nThe wagons stood abandoned, except fora few roughcoated horse handlers for guards, near the tall sprawling canvas fence erected to contain Luca's show. From this large browngrass meadow half a mile from Samara the gray stonewalls of the city were clearly visible, with squat towers at the gates, and a few of the taller buildings showing roofs of thatch or tile. Outside the walls, villages of huts and rude shanties sprouted like mushrooms in every direction, full of the Prophet's followers, and they had stripped every tree for miles either for building or for firewood." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The show's entrance for patrons was on the other side, but two of the horse handlers with stout cudgels stood on this side to discourage any who did not want to pay from entering as the performers did. Nynaeve was almost upon them, striding as hard as she could and muttering angrily to herself, when their idiotic grins made her realize that the shawl was still looped over her elbows. Her stare wiped their faces blank. Only then did she cover herself properly, and slowly; she was not about to have these louts think they could make her yelp and leap. The skinny one, with a nose that took up half of his face, held the canvas flap aside, and she ducked through into pandemonium.\n\nEverywhere people thronged, in noisy milling clusters of men and women and children, in chattering streams flowing from one attraction to the next. All but the s'redit performed on raised wooden stages Luca had had built. Cerandin's boarhorses had the largest crowd, the huge gray animals actually balancing on their forelegs, even the baby, long snouts curved up sinuously, while Clarine's dogs had the smallest, for all they did backsprings and flips over each others\" backs. A good many people paused to stare at the lions and the hairy boarlike capars in their cages, the strangely horned deer from Arafel and Saldaea and Arad Doman and the bright birds from the Light knew where, and some waddling, brownfurred creatures with big eyes and round ears that sat placidly eating leaves from branches gripped in their forepaws. Luca's tale on where they came from varied-she supposed he did not know-and he had not been able to makeup a name for them that pleased him. A huge snake from the marshes of Illian, four times as long as a man, earned nearly as many gasps as the s'redit, although simply lying there, apparently asleep, but she was pleased to see that Latelle's bears, at the moment standing atop huge red wooden balls that they rolled in circles with their feet, attracted few more than the dogs. Bears these people could see in their own forests, even if these did have white faces." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Latelle sparkled in the afternoon sunlight in her black spangles. Cerandin glittered almost as much in blue, and Clarine in green, though neither had quite as many sequins sewn on as Latelle, but every last one of the dresses had a collar right up under the chin. Of course, Petra and the Chavanas were performing attired only in bright blue breeches, but that was to showoff their muscles. Only understandable. The acrobats were standing one atop the other's shoulders, four high. Not far from them, the strongman took along bar with a large iron ball at each end-two men were needed to hand the thing up to him-and immediately began twirling it in his thick hands, even spinning the bar around his neck and across his back.\n\nThom was juggling fire, and eating it as well. Eight flaming batons made a perfect circle: then suddenly he had four in each hand, one sticking up from each cluster. Deftly popping each upraised flaming end into his mouth in turn, he appeared to swallow, and took them out extinguished, looking as if he had just had something tasty. Nynaeve could not fathom how he did not scorch his mustaches off, much less burn his throat. A twist of his wrists, and the unlit batons folded into the lit like fans. A moment later they were making two interlinked circles above his head. He wore the same brown coat he always did, though Luca had given him a redone sewn with sequins. From the way Thom's bushy eyebrows rose as she stalked past, he did not understand why she glared at him. His own coat, indeed!\n\nShe hurried on toward the thick, impatiently buzzing crowd circled around the two tall poles with the rope stretched tightly between. She had to use her elbows to reach the front row, though two women did glare and snatch their men out of her way when the shawl slipped. She would have glared back had she not been so busy blushing and covering herself. Luca was there, frowning as anxiously as a husband outside a birthing room, next to a thick fellow with his head shaved except fora grizzled topknot. She slipped in on the other side of Luca. The shavenheaded man had a villainous look; along scar sliced down his left cheek, and a patch over that eye was painted with a scowling red replacement. Few of the men she had seen here were armed with more than a belt knife, but he wore a sword strapped to his back, the long hilt rising above his right shoulder. He looked vaguely familiar for some reason, but her mind was all on the highrope. Luca frowned at the shawl, smiled at her, and tried to put an arm around her waist." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "While he was still trying to catch his breath from her elbow and she was still getting her shawl decently back in place, Juilin came staggering out of the crowd on the other side, conical red hat tilted jauntily, coat half off one shoulder and a wooden mug in his fist slopping over the rim. With the overcareful steps of a man whose head contains more wine than brains, he approached the rope ladder leading up to one of the high platforms and stared at it.\n\n\"Goon!\" someone shouted. \"Break your fool neck!\"\n\n\"Wait, friend,\" Luca called, starting forward with smiles and flourishes of his cloak. \"That is no place fora man with a belly full of-\"\n\nSetting the mug on the ground, Juilin scampered up the ladder and stood swaying on the platform. Nynaeve held her breath. The man had ahead for heights, and well he should after a life of chasing thieves across the rooftops of Tear, but still...\n\nJuilin turned as if lost; he appeared too drunk to see or remember the ladder. His eyes fixed on the rope. Tentatively, he put one foot onto the narrow span, then drew it back. Pushing the hat back to scratch his head, he studied the taut rope, and abruptly brightened visibly. Slowly he got down on hands and knees and crawled wobbling out onto the rope. Luca shouted for him to comedown, and the crowd roared with laughter.\n\nHalfway across, Juilin stopped, swaying awkwardly, and peered back, his eyes latching onto the mug he had left on the ground. Plainly he was considering how to get back to it. Slowly, with exceeding care, he stood, facing the way he had come and wavering from side to side. A gasp rose from the crowd as his foot slipped and he fell, somehow catching himself with one hand and a knee hooked around the rope. Luca caught the Taraboner hat as it fell, shouting to everyone that the man was mad, and whatever happened was no responsibility of his. Nynaeve pressed both hands tight against her middle; she could imagine being up there, and even that was enough to make her feel ill. The man was a fool. A pure bullgoose fool!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With an obvious effort, Juilin managed to catch the rope with his other hand, and pulled himself along it handoverhand. To the far platform. Swaying from side to side, he brushed his coat, tried to pull it straight and succeeded only in changing which shoulder hung down-and spotted his mug at the floor of the other pole. Pointing to it gleefully, he stepped out onto the rope again.\n\nThis time at least half the onlookers shouted for him to go back, shouted that there was a ladder behind him; the others only laughed uproariously, no doubt waiting for him to break his neck. He walked across smoothly, slid down the rope ladder with his hands and feet on the outside, and snatched up the wooden mug to take a deep drink. Not until Luca clapped the red hat on Juilin's head and they both bowed-Luca flourishing his cloak in such away that Juilin was behind it half the time-did the watchers realize that it had all been part of the show. A moment of silence, and then they exploded with applause and cheers and laughter. Nynaeve had half thought they might turn ugly after being duped. The fellow with the topknot looked villainous even while laughing.\n\nLeaving Juilin standing beside the ladder, Luca came back to stand between, Nynaeve and the man with the topknot. \"I thought that would go well.\" He sounded incredibly selfsatisfied, and he made little bows to the crowd as if he had been the one upon the rope.\n\nGiving him a sour frown, she had no time to speak the acid comment on her tongue, because Elayne came bounding through the crowd to stand beside Juilin with her arms upraised and one knee bent.\n\nNynaeve's mouth tightened, and she shifted her shawl irritably. Whatever she thought of the red dress that she had found herself wearing without really knowing how, she was not sure that Elayne's costume was not worse. The DaughterHeir of Andor was all in snow white, with a scattering of white sequins sparkling on her short coat and snug breeches. Nynaeve had not really believed that Elayne would actually appear in the clothes in public, but she had been too concerned over her own attire to give her opinion. The coat and breeches made her think of Min. She had never approved of Min wearing boy's clothes, but the color and spangles made these even more-flagrant." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Juilin held the rope ladder for Elayne to climb, though there was no need. She went up as adeptly as he could have. He vanished into the crowd as soon as she reached the top, where she posed again, beaming at the thunderous applause as if at the adulation of her subjects. As she stepped out onto the rope-somehow it seemed even thinner than when Juilin had been on it-Nynaeve all but ceased breathing, and she stopped thinking of Elayne's clothes, or her own, at all.\n\nElayne made her way out onto the rope, arms outstretched to either side, and she was not channeling a platform of Air. Slowly she stepped her way across, one foot in front of the other, never wavering, supported only by the rope. Channeling would be far too dangerous if Moghedien had even a clue to where they were; the Forsaken or Black sisters could be in Samara, and they would be able to feel the weave. And if they were not in Samara now, they might be soon. On the far platform, Elayne paused to considerably more applause than Juilin had received-Nynaeve could not understand that-and started back. Almost to the end, she pivoted smoothly, walked back halfway, pivoted again. And wobbled, just catching herself. Nynaeve felt as though a hand had her by the throat. At a slow steady pace, Elayne highwalked to the platform, once more posing to thunderous shouts and clapping.\n\nNynaeve swallowed her heart and breathed again, raggedly, but she knew it was not over.\n\nRaising her hands above her head, Elayne suddenly cartwheeled herself along the rope, black tresses whipping, whitesheathed legs flashing in the sun. Nynaeve yelped and clutched Luca's arm as the girl reached the far platform, stumbled in landing and caught herself just short of going over the edge." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What's the matter?\" he murmured beneath the gasp rising from the crowd. \"You've seen her do this every evening since Sienda. And a good many other places, too, I would think.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" she said weakly. Eyes fixed on Elayne, she barely noticed the arm he slipped around her shoulders, certainly not enough to do anything about it. She had tried to talk the girl into feigning a sprained ankle, but Elayne insisted that after all of that practice with the Power, she did not need it now. Maybe Juilin did not-apparently he did not-but Elayne had never gone scrambling over rooftops in the night.\n\nThe return cartwheels went perfectly, and the landing, but Nynaeve did not look away, or loose her hold on Luca's sleeve. After what now seemed the inevitable pause for applause, Elayne returned to the rope for more pivots, one leg raised and whipping down and up so quickly that it seemed she kept it outstretched the whole while, and fora slow handstand that lifted her straight as a dagger, whiteslippered toes pointed to the sky. And a backflip that had the crowd gasping and her swaying from side to side, only just catching her balance. Thom Merrilin had taught her that, and the handstand.\n\nFrom the corner of her eye Nynaeve caught Thom, two places down from her, eyes riveted to Elayne, poised on the balls of his feet. He looked as proud as a peacock. He looked ready to rush forward and catch her if she fell. If she did fall, it would beat least partly his fault. He should never have taught her those things!\n\nOne last passage of cartwheels, white legs flashing and glittering in the sun, faster than before. A passage that had never been mentioned to Nynaeve! She would have eviscerated Luca with her tongue had he not muttered angrily that Elayne adding to the act just for applause was a good way to break her neck. One last pause to pose for more of that applause and Elayne at last climbed down." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Shouting, the crowd rushed in on her. Luca and four horse handlers with cudgels appeared around her as if by the Power, but even so Thom beat them to her, limp and all.\n\nNynaeve jumped as high as she could, just managing to see over enough heads to make out Elayne. The girl did not seem frightened, or even taken aback, by all the waving hands trying to touch her, stretching between her encircling guards. Head high, face flushed from effort, she still managed a cool and regal grace as she was escorted away. How she could do that, garbed as she was, Nynaeve simply could not imagine.\n\n\"Face like a bloody queen,\" the oneeyed man muttered to himself. He had not gone running with the others, but merely let them stream past. Roughly dressed in a plain coat of dark gray wool, he certainly looked solid enough to have no fears of being knocked down and trampled. He appeared as if he could use that sword. \"Burn me fora sheepgutted farmer, but she's flaming well brave enough fora bloody queen.\"\n\nNynaeve gaped at him as he strode away through the crowd, and it was not his language. Or rather, it was, partly. Now she remembered where she had seen him, a oneeyed man with a topknot who could not say two sentences without the vilest curses.\n\nForgetting about Elayne-she was certainly safe enough-Nynaeve began pushing her way through the throng after him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "An Old Acquaintance\n\nWith the crowds, it took Nynaeve some little time to catch up, muttering every time she was jostled by a man gaping at everything insight or a woman dragging a child with either hand, children usually trying to drag her to two different attractions at once. The oneeyed man barely paused to look at anything except the big snake and the lions, until he reached the boarhorses. He had to have seen them earlier, situated as they were near the patrons'entrance. Every time the s'redit stood on their hind legs, as they were doing now, the great tusked heads of the adults could be seen by those outside the canvas fence, and the press to enter intensified a little more.\n\nBeneath a wide red sign that said VALAN LUCA in ornate gold script on both sides, two of the horse handlers collected admission from people funneled between two thick ropes, taking the money in clear blownglass pitchers-both thick and flawed; Luca would never layout coin for better-so they could see that the coins were right without touching them. They dumped the money straight from the pitchers through a hole in the top of an ironstrapped box so wrapped about with chain that Petra had to have put it in place before the first silver penny went in. Another pair of horse handlers-thickshouldered, brokennosed men with the sunken knuckles of brawlers-stood nearby with cudgels to make sure that the crowd remained orderly. And to keep an eye on the men taking the money, Nynaeve suspected. Luca was not a trusting man, especially when it came to coin. In fact, he was as tight as the skin on an apple. She had never met anyone so stingy.\n\nSlowly she elbowed close to the man with the graystreaked topknot. He had had no trouble reaching the front rank before the s'redit, of course; his scar and painted eyepatch would have seen to that, even without the sword on his back. At the moment he was watching the big gray animals with a grin, and what she supposed was wonder on that stony face." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Uno?\" She thought that was the right name.\n\nHis head turned to stare at her. Once she had the shawl back in place, he raised the stare to her face, but no recognition lit in his dark eye. The other, the painted red glaring one, made her a little queasy.\n\nCerandin waved her goad, shouting something slurred beyond intelligibility, and the s'redit turned, Sanit, the cow, placing her feet, on Mer's broad, rounded back while he remained upright. Nerin, the calf, put her feet low on Sanit's back.\n\n\"I saw you in Fal Dara,\" Nynaeve said. \"And again on Toman Head, briefly. After Falme. You were with...\" She did not know how much she could say with people cheekbyjowl around her, rumors of the Dragon Reborn had circulated all through Amadicia, and some even had his name right. \"With Rand.\"\n\nUno's real eye narrowed-she tried not to seethe other-and after a moment he nodded. \"I remember the face. I never forget a flaming pretty face. But the hair was bloody well different. Nyna?\"\n\n\"Nynaeve,\" she told him sharply.\n\nHe shook his head, eyeing her up and down, and before she could say another word, he had seized her arm and was all but dragging her out through the entrance. The horse handlers there recognized her, of course, and the brokennosed fellows started forward hefting their cudgels. She waved them away furiously even as she was yanking her arm free; it took three tries, and still it was more a matter of his letting go. The man had a grip like iron. The men with the clubs hesitated, then drifted back to their places when they saw Uno drop his grip. Apparently they knew what Valan Luca would prefer them to be guarding." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What do you think you are doing?\" she demanded, but Uno only motioned her to follow, watching to see that she did so without more than slowing his stride through the crowd waiting to get in. He had slightly bowed legs, and moved like a man more used to the back of a horse than his own feet. Growling to herself, she picked up her skirts and stalked after him toward the town.\n\nTwo other menageries were setup behind brown canvas walls not far off, and beyond them more lay scattered among the crowded shanty villages. None too close to the city walls, though. Apparently the governor, as they called the woman Nynaeve could have named mayor-though she had never heard of a woman mayor-had decreed half a mile as the distance, to protect the town in case any of the animals got loose.\n\nThe sign over the entrance to the nearest show said MAIRIN GOME in florid green and gold. Two women were clearly visible above the sign, clinging to a rope hanging from a tall framework of poles that had not been there when Luca's walls went up. Apparently the boarhorses\" rearing high enough to be seen was having an effect. The women contorted themselves into positions that made Nynaeve think uncomfortably of what Moghedien had done, and somehow even managed to hold themselves out in horizontal handstands to either side of the rope. The crowd waiting impatiently in front of Mistress Gome's sign was almost as large as the one in front of Luca's. None of the other shows had anything visible that she could see, and their crowds were much smaller.\n\nUno refused to answer her questions or say a word or do more than give her dire frowns until they were out of the jam of people and onto a cart path of hardpacked dirt. \"What I am flaming trying to do,\" he growled then, \"is to take you where we can flaming well talk without you being torn to flaming bits by flaming folk trying to kiss your flaming hem when they find out you flaming know the Lord Dragon.\" There was no one within thirty paces of them, but he still stared around for anyone who might hear. \"Blood and bloody ashes, woman! Don't you know what these flaming goatheads are like? Half of them think the Creator talks to him over bloody supper every night, and the other half think he is the bloody Creator!\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Advance the storyline as the writer's tale partner.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, war\nAuthor: Robert Jordan\nTitle: The Fires of Heaven\nChapter: 31" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What do you think you are doing?\" she demanded, but Uno only motioned her to follow, watching to see that she did so without more than slowing his stride through the crowd waiting to get in. He had slightly bowed legs, and moved like a man more used to the back of a horse than his own feet. Growling to herself, she picked up her skirts and stalked after him toward the town.\n\nTwo other menageries were setup behind brown canvas walls not far off, and beyond them more lay scattered among the crowded shanty villages. None too close to the city walls, though. Apparently the governor, as they called the woman Nynaeve could have named mayor-though she had never heard of a woman mayor-had decreed half a mile as the distance, to protect the town in case any of the animals got loose.\n\nThe sign over the entrance to the nearest show said MAIRIN GOME in florid green and gold. Two women were clearly visible above the sign, clinging to a rope hanging from a tall framework of poles that had not been there when Luca's walls went up. Apparently the boarhorses\" rearing high enough to be seen was having an effect. The women contorted themselves into positions that made Nynaeve think uncomfortably of what Moghedien had done, and somehow even managed to hold themselves out in horizontal handstands to either side of the rope. The crowd waiting impatiently in front of Mistress Gome's sign was almost as large as the one in front of Luca's. None of the other shows had anything visible that she could see, and their crowds were much smaller.\n\nUno refused to answer her questions or say a word or do more than give her dire frowns until they were out of the jam of people and onto a cart path of hardpacked dirt. \"What I am flaming trying to do,\" he growled then, \"is to take you where we can flaming well talk without you being torn to flaming bits by flaming folk trying to kiss your flaming hem when they find out you flaming know the Lord Dragon.\" There was no one within thirty paces of them, but he still stared around for anyone who might hear. \"Blood and bloody ashes, woman! Don't you know what these flaming goatheads are like? Half of them think the Creator talks to him over bloody supper every night, and the other half think he is the bloody Creator!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I will thank you to moderate your language, Master Uno. And I will thank you to slowdown, too. We are not running a footrace. Where are you going, and why should I stir another step with you?\"\n\nHe rolled his eye toward her, chuckling wryly. \"Oh, I do remember you. The one with the fla-the mouth. Ragan thought you could skin and butcher a blo-a bull at ten paces with your tongue. Chaena and Nangu thought fifty.\" At least he did shorten his stride.\n\nNynaeve stopped dead. \"Where and why?\"\n\n\"Into the town.\" He did not stop. He strode right on, flipping a hand for her to follow. \"I don't know what you're flam-what you're doing here, but I remember you were mixed up with that blue woman.\"\n\nSnarling under her breath, she gathered her skirts and hurried after him again; it was the only way to hear. He continued as if she had been beside him the whole time. \"This is no blood-no place for you to be. I can scrape together enough blo-aagh!-enough coin to get you to Tear, I think. Rumor says that's where the Lord Dragon is.\" Again he looked around warily. \"Unless you want to go to the island instead.\" He must have meant Tar Valon. \"There's blo-there's odd rumors floating around about that, too. Peace, if there aren't!\" He came from a land that had not known peace in three thousand years; Shienarans used the word as talisman and oath both. \"They say the old Amyrlin's been deposed. Executed maybe. Some say they fought-and burned the whole-\" He paused, taking a deep breath and grimacing horribly. \"the whole city.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Walking along, she studied him in amazement." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She had not seen him in nearly a year, had never spoken more than two words together to him, and yet he... Why did men always think a woman needed a man to look after her? Men could not lace up their own shirts without a woman to help! \"We are doing quite well as we are, thank you. Unless you know when a river trader will dock on his way downriver.\"\n\n\"We? Is the blue woman with you, or the brown?\" That had to be Moiraine and Verin. He was certainly being cautious.\n\n\"No. Do you remember Elayne?\" He gave a blunt nod, and a mischievous impulse seized her; nothing seemed to faze the man, and he obviously expected to just take charge of her welfare. \"You saw her again just now. You said she had a\"-she made her voice gruff in imitation of his-\"face like a bloody queen.\"\n\nHe stumbled in a quite satisfactory way, and glared around him so fiercely that even two Whitecloaks riding by skirted wide around him, though they tried to pretend he had nothing to do with it, of course. \"Her?\" he growled incredulously. \"But her bloody hair was black as a raven's...\" He glanced at hers, and the next minute he was pacing up the cart path again, muttering half to himself, \"The flaming woman is daughter to a queen. A bloody queen! Showing her bloody legs that way.\" Nynaeve nodded in agreement. Until he added, \"You bloody southlanders are bloody strange! No flaming decency at all!\" He had fine room to talk. Shienarans might dress properly, but she still blushed to remember that in Shienar men and women bathed together as often as not, and thought no more of it than of eating together." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Did your mother never teach you to talk decently, man?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His real eye frowned at her almost as darkly as the painted one, and he rolled his shoulders. In Fal Dara he and everyone else had treated her as nobly born, or the next thing to. Of course, it was hard to pass herself off as a lady in that dress, and with her hair a shade that nature never made. She arranged her shawl more snugly and folded her arms to hold it in place. The gray wool was terribly uncomfortable in that dry heat, and she herself was not feeling very dry at all; she had never heard of anyone who died of sweating, but she thought she might well be the first. \"What are you doing here, Uno?\"\n\nHe looked around before answering. Not that he had need; there was little traffic on the path-an occasional oxdrawn cart, a few folk in farm clothes or rougher, here and there a man on a horse-and no one seemed willing to come any closer to him than they had to. He appeared a man who might cut somebody's throat on a whim. \"The blue woman gave us a name in Jehannah, and said we were to wait there until she sent instructions, but the woman in Jehannah was dead and buried when we arrived. An old woman. Died in her sleep, and none of her relatives had ever heard the blue woman's name. Then Masema started talking to people, and... Well, there was no point staying therefor orders we'd never hear if they did come. We stay close to Masema because he slips us enough to live on, though none except Bartu and Nengar listen to his trash.\" The grizzled topknot swung as he shook his head in irritation.\n\nSuddenly Nynaeve realized that there had not been a single obscene word in that. He looked about to swallow his tongue. \"Perhaps if you cursed only occasionally?\" She sighed. \"Maybe once every other sentence?\" The man smiled at her so gratefully that she wanted to throw up her hands in exasperation. \"How is it that Masema has money when the rest of you do not?\" She remembered Masema: a dark sour man who liked no one and nothing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Why, he's the bloody Prophet they've all come to hear. Would you like to meet him?\" He gave the impression of counting his sentences. Nynaeve breathed deeply; the man was going to take her literally. \"He might find you a flaming boat, if you want one. In Ghealdan, what the Prophet wants, the Prophet usually gets. No, he always flaming gets it in the end, one way or another. The man was a good soldier, but who'd have ever thought he would turnout like this?\" His frown took in all the rude villages and the people, even the shows and the city ahead.\n\nNynaeve hesitated. The dreaded Prophet, rousing mobs and riots, was Masema? But he did preach the coming of the Dragon Reborn. They were almost to the town gate, and there was time yet before she must stand up and let Birgitte shoot arrows at her. Luca had been more than disappointed that the woman insisted on being called Maerion. If Masema could find a boat heading downriver... Today, maybe. On the other hand, there were the riots. If rumor inflated them tenfold, then only hundreds had died in towns and cities farther north. Only hundreds.\n\n\"Just don't remind him that you have anything to do with that bloody island,\" Uno went on, eyeing her thoughtfully. Now that she thought of it, she realized that he very likely did not know what her connection to Tar Valon actually was. Women did go there without becoming Aes Sedai, after all, to seek help or answers. He was aware that she was involved in someway, but no more than that. \"He isn't much friendlier to women from there than the Whitecloaks are. If you just keep your mouth bloody well shut about it, he'll likely pass it over. For somebody who comes from the same village as the Lord Dragon, Masema will probably have a flaming boat built.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The crowds were thicker at the city gates, flanked by squat gray towers, men and women streaming in and out, afoot and mounted, in every sort of garb from rags to embroidered silk coats and dresses. The gates themselves, thick and ironbound, stood open under the guard of a dozen spearmen in scaled tunics and round steel caps with flat rims. Actually, the guards paid more attention to half their number of Whitecloaks lounging nearby than to anything else. It was the men in snowy cloaks and burnished mail who watched the flow of people.\n\n\"Do the Whitecloaks cause much trouble?\" she asked quietly.\n\nUno pursed his lips as if to spit, glanced at her, and did not. \"Where do they bloody not? There was a woman with one of these traveling shows who did tricks, sleight of hand. Four days ago a flaming mob of pigeongutted sheepheads tore the show apart.\" Valan Luca had certainly never mentioned that! \"Peace! What they wanted was the woman. Claimed she was\"-he glowered at the folk hurrying by, and lowered his voice-\"Aes Sedai. And a Darkfriend. Broke her bloody neck getting her to a rope, so I hear, but they hung her corpse anyway. Masema had the ringleaders beheaded, but it was Whitecloaks whipped up the bloody mob.\" His scowl matched thered eye painted on his patch. \"There's been too many flaming hangings and beheadings, if you bloody well ask me. Bloody Masema's as bad as the bloody Whitecloaks when it comes to finding a Darkfriend under every flaming rock.\"\n\n\"Once every other sentence,\" she murmured, and the man actually blushed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Don't know what I'm thinking,\" he grumped, coming to a stop. \"Can't take you in there. It's half festival and half riot, with a cutpurse every third step and a woman not safe outofdoors after dark.\" He sounded more scandalized about the last than the rest; in Shienar, a woman was safe anywhere, anytime-except from Trollocs and Myrddraal, of course-and any man would die to see it so. \"Not safe. I'll take you back. When I find away, I'll come for you.\"\n\nThat settled it for her. Pulling her arm loose before he could get a grip on it, she quickened her pace toward the gates. \"Come along, Uno, and do not dawdle. If you dawdle, I will leave you behind.\" He caught up to her, grumbling under his breath about the stubbornness of women. Once she understood that that was his subject, and that apparently he did not think her injunction against cursing held when talking to himself, she stopped listening." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rhuidean\n\nHigh in the city of Rhuidean, Rand al'Thor looked out from a tall window; whatever glass might have once been in it was long since gone. The shadows below slanted sharply east. A bardharp played softly in the room behind him. Sweat evaporated from his face almost as soon as it appeared; his red silk coat, damp between the shoulders, hung open in a fruitless bid for air, and his shirt was unlaced half down his chest. Night in the Aiel Waste would bring freezing cold, but during daylight even a breeze was never cool.\n\nWith his hands above his head on the smooth stone window frame, his coatsleeves fell down to reveal the front part of the figure wrapped around each forearm: a goldenmaned, serpentine creature with eyes like the sun, scaled in scarlet and gold, each foot tipped with five golden claws. Part of his skin, they were not tattoos; they glittered like precious metals and polished gems, seemed almost alive in the lateafternoon sunlight.\n\nThose marked him, to the people on this side of the mountain range variously called the Dragonwall or the Spine of the World, as He Who Comes With the Dawn. And like the herons branded into his palms, they marked him for those beyond the Dragonwall, too, according to the Prophecies, as the Dragon Reborn. In both cases prophesied to unite, save-and destroy.\n\nThey were names he would have avoided if he could, but that time was long past if it had ever existed, and he no longer thought of it. Or if he did, on rare occasion, it was with the faint regret of a man recalling a foolish dream of his boyhood. As if he were not close enough to boyhood to remember every minute. Instead, he tried to think only of what he had to do. Fate and duty held him on the path like a rider's reins, but he had often been called stubborn. The end of the road must be reached, but if it could be attained by a different way, maybe it need not be the end. Small chance. No chance, almost certainly. The Prophecies demanded his blood." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rhuidean stretched below him, seared by a sun still pitiless as it sank toward craggy mountains, bleak, with barely a sign of vegetation. This rugged, broken land, where men had killed or died over a pool of water they could step across, was the last place on earth anyone would think to find a great city. Its longago builders had never finished their work. Impossibly tall buildings dotted the city, stepped and slabsided palaces that sometimes ended after eight or even ten stories not with a roof but with the ragged masonry of another halfbuilt floor. The towers soared higher yet, but stopped in jagged abruptness as often as not. Now a good quarter of the great structures, with their massive columns and immense windows of colored glass, lay strewn as rubble across wide avenues with broad strips of bare dirt down their centers, dirt that had never held the trees they were planned for. The marvelous fountains stood dry as they had for hundreds upon hundreds of years. All that futile labor, the builders finally dying with their work undone; yet at times Rand thought that maybe the city had only been begun so he could find it.\n\nToo proud, he thought. A man would have to be halfmad at least to be so proud. He could not help chuckling dryly. There had been Aes Sedai with the men and women who had come here so long ago, and they had known The Karaethon Cycle, the Prophecies of the Dragon. Or perhaps they had written the Prophecies. Too proud by tenfold.\n\nDirectly below him lay avast plaza, halfcovered in stretching shadow, littered with a jumble of statues and crystal chairs, oddities and peculiar shapes of metal or glass or stone, things he could put no name to, scattered about in tangled heaps as if deposited by a storm. Even the shadows were cool only by comparison. Roughclothed men-not Aiel-sweated to load wagons with items chosen by a short, slender woman in pristine blue silk, straightbacked and gliding from place to place as though the heat did not press down on her as hard as on the others. Still, she wore a damp white cloth tied around her temples; she just did not let herself show the effects of the sun. Rand would have wagered she did not even perspire." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The workmen's leader was a dark, bulky man named Hadnan Kadere, a supposed merchant dressed all in creamcolored silk that was sweatsodden today. He mopped his face continually with a large handkerchief, shouting curses at the men-his wagon drivers and guards-but he leaped as quickly as they to haul at whatever the slim woman pointed out, big or small. Aes Sedai had no need of size to impose their will, but Rand thought Moiraine would have done as well if she had never been near the White Tower.\n\nTwo of the men were trying to move what appeared to bean oddly twisted redstone doorframe; the corners did not meet properly, and the eye did not want to follow the straight pieces. It stayed upright, turning freely but refusing to tip over however they manhandled it. Then one slipped and fell, through the doorway up to his waist. Rand tensed. Fora moment, the fellow seemed not to exist above the waist; his legs kicked wildly in panic. Until Lan, a tall man in drab shades of green, strode over and hauled him out again by his belt. Lan was Moiraine's Warder, bonded to her in someway Rand did not understand, and a hard man who moved like the Aiel, like a hunting wolf; the sword at his hip did not seem part of him, it was part of him. He dropped the workman on the paving stones on the seat of his breeches and left him there; the fellow's terrified cries rose thinly to Rand, and his companion looked ready to run. Several of Kadere's men who had been close enough to see were looking atone another and at the mountains around the city, plainly assessing their chances.\n\nMoiraine appeared among them so quickly it seemed by the Power, moving smoothly from man to man. Her manner made Rand almost hear the cool, imperious instructions coming from her lips, so full of certainty that they would be obeyed, that not obeying would seem foolish. In short order she overrode resistance, stamped firmly on objections, chivvied them everyone back to work. The pair with the doorframe were soon dragging and shoving as hard as ever, if with frequent looks at Moiraine when they thought she would not see. In her own way, she was even harder than Lan." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As far as Rand knew, all of those things down there were angreal or sa'angreal or ter'angreal, made before the Breaking of the World to magnify the One Power or use it in various ways. Made with the Power certainly, though not even Aes Sedai knew how to construct such things now. He more than suspected the use of the twisted doorframe-a doorway to another world-but for the rest, he had no idea. No one did. That was why Moiraine worked so hard, to have as many as she could carted to the Tower for study. It was possible that even the Tower did not contain as many objects of the Power as layabout this square, though supposedly the Tower held the largest collection in the world. Even there, the Tower only knew the uses of some.\n\nWhat was in the wagons or tossed about on the pavement did not interest Rand; he had already taken what he needed from down there. Had already taken more than he wanted, in someways.\n\nIn the center of the plaza, near the burned remains of a great tree a hundred feet high, stood a small forest of tall glass columns, each nearly as tall as the tree and so slender it seemed the first stormwind must bring them all crashing down. Even with an edge of shadow touching them, the columns caught and refracted the sunlight in glitters and sparkles. For countless years Aiel men had entered that array and returned marked as Rand was, but on only one arm, marked as clan chiefs. They came out marked or did not come out. Aiel women had come to this city as well, on the path toward becoming Wise Ones. No one else, not and live. A man may go to Rhuidean once, a woman twice; more means death. That was what the Wise Ones had said, and it had been truth, then. Now anyone could enter Rhuidean." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Hundreds of Aiel walked the streets, and increasing numbers actually dwelled in the buildings; each day more of the dirt strips down the streets showed beans or squash or zemai, arduously watered from clay pots hauled from the huge new lake that filled the south end of the valley, the only such body of water in the entire land. Thousands made their camps in the surrounding mountains, even on Chaendaer itself, where before they had come only with ceremony, to send a single manor woman at a time into Rhuidean.\n\nWherever he went, Rand brought change and destruction. This time, he hoped against hope that the change was for the good. It might yet be so. The burned tree mocked him. Avendesora, the legendary Tree of Life; the stories never said where it was, and it had been a surprise to find it here. Moiraine said it still lived, that it would putout shoots again, but so far he saw only blackened bark and bare branches.\n\nWith a sigh, he turned from the window into a big room, though not the biggest in Rhuidean, with tall windows on two sides, its domed ceiling worked in a fanciful mosaic of winged people and animals. Most of the furniture left in the city had long since rotted away even in the dryness, and much of the little that remained was riddled with beetles and worms. But on the far side of the room stood one highbacked chair, solid, and its gilding largely intact, but mismatched with its table, a wide thing with legs and edges thickly carved in flowers. Someone had polished the wood with beeswax till it shone dully despite its age. The Aiel had found them for him, though they shook their heads at such things; there were few trees in the Waste that could have produced wood straight and long enough to make that chair, and none to make the table." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was all the furniture, as he thought of it. A fine silk Illianer carpet in blue and gold, booty in some longago battle, covered the middle of the dark red floor tiles. Cushions lay scattered about, in bright silks, and tasseled. Those were what Aiel used instead of chairs, when they did not merely sit on their heels, as comfortable as he would be in a padded chair.\n\nSix men reclined against cushions on the carpet. Six clan chiefs, representing the clans that had so far come to follow Rand. Or rather, to follow He Who Comes With the Dawn. Not always eagerly. He thought Rhuarc, a broadshouldered, blueeyed man with heavy streaks of gray in his dark red hair, might have some friendship for him, but not the rest. Only six of the twelve.\n\nIgnoring the chair, Rand sat down crosslegged, facing the Aiel. Outside of Rhuidean, the only chairs in the Waste were chief's chairs, used only by the chief and only for three reasons: to be acclaimed as clan chief, to accept the submission of an enemy with honor, or to pass judgment. Taking the chair with these men now would imply that he meant to do one of those.\n\nThey wore the cadin'sor, coats and breeches in shades of brown and gray that would fade into the ground, and soft boots that laced to the knee. Even here, meeting with the man they had proclaimed the Car'a\"carn, the chief of chiefs, each had a heavybladed knife at his belt and the graybrown shoufa draped like a wide scarf around his neck; if any man covered his face with the black veil that was part of the shoufa, he would be ready to kill. It was not beyond possibility. These men had fought one another in a neverending cycle of clan raids and battles and feuds. They watched him, waited for him, but an Aiel's waiting always spoke of a readiness to move, suddenly and violently." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Bael, the tallest man Rand had ever seen, and Jheran, bladeslender and whipquick, lay as far from one another as they could manage and still be on the carpet." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was blood feud between Bael's Goshien and Jheran's Shaarad, suppressed for He Who Comes With the Dawn but not forgotten. And perhaps the Peace of Rhuidean still held, despite all that had happened. Still, the tranquil sounds of the harp made a sharp contrast with the hard refusal of Bael and Jheran to look atone another. Six sets of eyes, blue or green or gray, in sundark faces; Aiel could make hawks look tame.\n\n\"What must I do to bring the Reyn tome?\" he said. \"You were sure they would come, Rhuarc.\"\n\nThe chief of the Taardad looked at him calmly; his face could have been carved stone for all its expression. \"Wait. Only that. Dhearic will bring them. Eventually.\"\n\nWhitehaired Han, lying next to Rhuarc, twisted his mouth as if about to spit. His leathery face wore a sour look, as usual. \"Dhearic has seen too many men and Maidens sit staring for days, then throw down their spears. Throw them down!\"\n\n\"And runaway,\" Bael added quietly. \"I have seen them myself, among the Goshien, even from my own sept, running. And you, Han, among the Tomanelle. We all have. I do not think they know where they are running to, only what they are running from.\"\n\n\"Cowardly snakes,\" Jheran barked. Gray streaked his light brown hair, there were no young men among Aiel clan chiefs. \"Stinkadders, wriggling away from their own shadows.\" A slight shift of his blue eyes toward the far side of the carpet made it clear he meant it fora description of the Goshien, not just those who had thrown down their spears." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bael made as if to rise, his face hardening further, if that was possible, but the man next to him put a quieting hand on his arm. Bruan, of the Nakai, was big enough and strong enough for two blacksmiths, but he had a placid nature that seemed odd for an Aiel. \"All of us have seen men and Maidens run.\" He sounded almost lazy, and his gray eyes looked so, yet Rand knew otherwise; even Rhuarc considered Bruan a deadly fighter and a devious tactician. Luckily, not even Rhuarc was stronger for Rand than Bruan. But he had come to follow He Who Comes With the Dawn; he did not know Rand al'Thor. \"As you have, Jheran. You know how hard it was to face what they face. If you cannot name coward those who died because they could not face it, can you name coward those who run for the same reason?\"\n\n\"They should never have learned,\" Han muttered, kneading his redtasseled blue cushion like an enemy's throat. \"It was for those who could enter Rhuidean and live.\"\n\nHe spoke the words to no one in particular, but they had to be for Rand's ears. It was Rand who had revealed to everyone what a man learned amid the glass columns in the plaza, revealed enough that the chiefs and Wise Ones could not turn aside when asked the rest. If there was an Aiel in the Waste who did not know the truth now, he had not spoken to anyone in a month.\n\nFar from the glorious heritage of battle most believed in, the Aiel had begun as helpless refugees from the Breaking of the World. Everyone who survived had been refugees then, of course, but the Aiel had never seen themselves as helpless. Worse, they had been followers of the Way of the Leaf, refusing to do violence even in defense of their lives. Aiel meant'dedicated\" in the Old Tongue, and it had been to peace that they were dedicated. Those who called themselves Aiel today were the descendants of those who had broken a pledge of untold generations. Only one remnant of that belief remained: an Aiel would die before taking up a sword. They had always believed it apart of their pride, of their separateness from those who lived outside the Waste." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He had heard Aiel say that they had committed some sin to be placed in the desolate Waste. Now they knew what it was. The men and women who had built Rhuidean and died here-those called the Jenn Aiel, the clan that was not, on the few occasions they were spoken of-had been the ones who kept faith with the Aes Sedai of the time before the Breaking. It was hard to face the knowledge that what you had always believed was a lie.\n\n\"It had to be told,\" Rand said. They had aright to know. A man shouldn't have to live a lie. Their own prophecy said I would break them. And I couldn't have done differently. The past was past and done; he should be worrying about the future. Some of these men dislike me, and some hate me for not being born among them, but they follow. I need them all. \"What of the Miagoma?\"\n\nErim, lying between Rhuarc and Han, shook his head. His once bright red hair was half white, but his green eyes were as strong as any younger man's. His big hands, wide and long and hard, said his arms were as strong, too. \"Timolan does not let his feet know which way he will jump until after he has leaped.\"\n\n\"When Timolan was young as a chief,\" Jheran said, \"he tried to unite the clans and failed. It will not sit well with him that at last one has come to succeed where he failed.\"\n\n\"He will come,\" Rhuarc said. \"Timolan never believed himself He Who Comes With the Dawn. And Janwin will bring the Shiande. But they will wait. They must settle matters in their own minds first.\"\n\n\"They must settle He Who Comes With the Dawn being a wetlander,\" Han barked. \"I mean no offense, Car'a\"carn.\" There was no obsequiousness in his voice; a chief was not a king, and neither was the chief of chiefs. At best he was first among equals." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Daryne and the Codarra will come eventually, as well, I think,\" Bruan said calmly. And quickly, lest silence should grow to a reason for dancing the spears. First among equals at best. \"They have lost more than any other clans to the bleakness.\" That was what the Aiel had taken to calling the long period of staring before someone tried to runaway from being Aiel. \"For the moment, Mandelain and Indirian are concerned withholding their clans together, and both will want to seethe Dragons on your arms for themselves, but they will come.\"\n\nThat left only one clan to be discussed, the one none of the chiefs wanted to mention. \"What news of Couladin and the Shaido?\" Rand asked.\n\nSilence answered him, broken only by the softly serene sounds of the harp in the background, each man waiting for another to speak, all coming as close as Aiel could to showing discomfort. Jheran frowned at his thumbnail, and Bruan toyed with one of the silvery tassels on his green cushion. Even Rhuarc studied the carpet.\n\nGraceful, whiterobed men and women moved into the hush, pouring worked silver goblets of wine to set beside each man, bringing small silver plates with olives, rare in the Waste, and white ewe'smilk cheese, and the pale, wrinkled nuts the Aiel called pecara. The Aiel faces looking out of those pale cowls had downcast eyes and an unfamiliar meekness on their features.\n\nWhether captured in battle or on a raid, the gai'shain were sworn to serve obediently for one year and a day, touching no weapon, doing no violence, at the end returning to their own clan and sept as if nothing had happened. A strange echo of the Way of the Leaf. Ji'e\"toh, honor and obligation, required it, and breaking ji'e\"toh was nearly the worst thing an Aiel could do. Perhaps the worst. It was possible that some of these men and women were serving their own clan chief, but neither would acknowledge it by the blink of an eye so long as the period of gai'shain held, not even fora son or daughter." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It struck Rand suddenly that this was the real reason that some Aiel took what he had revealed so hard. To those, it must seem that their ancestors had sworn gai'shain, not only for themselves but for all succeeding generations. And those generations-all, down to the present day-had broken ji'e\"toh by taking up the spear. Had the men in front of him ever worried along those lines? Ji'e'toh was very serious business to an Aiel.\n\nThe gai'shain departed on soft slippered feet, barely making a sound. None of the clan chiefs touched their wine, or the food.\n\n\"Is there any hope that Couladin will meet with me?\" Rand knew there was not; he had stopped sending requests fora meeting once he learned Couladin was having the messengers skinned alive. But it was away to start the others talking.\n\nHan snorted. \"The only word we have had from him is that he means to flay you when next he sees you. Does that sound as if he will talk?\"\n\n\"Can I break the Shaido away from him?\"\n\n\"They follow him,\" Rhuarc said. \"He is not a chief at all, but they believe he is.\" Couladin had never entered those glass columns; he might even still believe as he claimed, that everything Rand had said was a lie. \"He says that he is the Car'a\"carn, and they believe that as well. The Shaido Maidens who came, came for their society, and that because Far Dareis Mai carried your honor. None else will.\"\n\n\"We send scouts to watch them,\" Bruan said, \"and the Shaido kill them when they can-Couladin builds the makings of half a dozen feuds-but so far he shows no signs of attacking us here. I have heard that he claims we have defiled Rhuidean, and that attacking us here would only deepen the desecration.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Erim grunted and shifted on his cushion. \"He means there are enough spears hereto kill every Shaido twice over and to spare.\" He popped apiece of white cheese into his mouth, growling around it. \"The Shaido were ever cowards and thieves.\"\n\n\"Honorless dogs,\" Bael and Jheran said together, then stared atone another as though each thought the other had tricked him into something.\n\n\"Honorless or not,\" Bruan said quietly, \"Couladin's numbers are growing.\" Calm as he sounded, he still took a deep drink from his goblet before going on. \"You all know what I am speaking of. Some of those who run, after the bleakness, do not throwaway their spears. Instead they join with their societies among the Shaido.\"\n\n\"No Tomanelle has ever broken clan,\" Han barked.\n\nBruan looked past Rhuarc and Erim at the Tomanelle chief and said deliberately, \"It has happened in every clan.\" Without waiting for another challenge to his word, he settled back on his cushion. \"It cannot be called breaking clan. They join their societies. Like the Shaido Maidens who have come to their Roof here.\" There were a few mutters, but no one disputed him this time. The rules governing Aiel warrior societies were complex, and in someways their members felt as closely bound to society as to clan. For instance, members of the same society would not fight each other even if their clans were in blood feud. Some men would not marry a woman too closely related to a member of their own society, just as if that made her their own close blood kin. The ways of Far Dareis Mai, the Maidens of the Spear, Rand did not even want to think about." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I need to know what Couladin intends,\" he told them. Couladin was a bull with a bee in his ear; he might charge in any direction. Rand hesitated. \"Would it violate honor to send people to join their societies among the Shaido?\" He did not need to describe what he meant any further. To a man, they stiffened where they lay, even Rhuarc, eyes cold enough to banish the heat from the room.\n\n\"To spy in that manner\"-Erim twisted his mouth around'spy\" as if the word tasted foul-\"would be like spying on your own sept. No one of honor would do such a thing.\"\n\nRand refrained from asking whether they might find someone with a slightly less prickly honor. The Aiel sense of humor was a strange thing, often cruel, but about some matters they had none at all.\n\nTo change the subject, he asked, \"Is there any word from across the Dragonwall?\" He knew the answer; that sort of news spread quickly even among as many Aiel as were gathered around Rhuidean.\n\n\"None worth the telling,\" Rhuarc replied. \"With the troubles among the treekillers, few peddlers come into the Threefold Land.\" That was the Aiel name for the Waste; a punishment for their sin, a testing ground for their courage, an anvil to shape them. \"Treekillers\" was what they called Cairhienin. \"The Dragon banner still flies over the Stone of Tear. Tairens have moved north into Cairhien as you ordered, to distribute food among the treekillers. Nothing more.\"\n\n\"You should have let the treekillers starve,\" Bael muttered, and Jheran closed his mouth with a snap. Rand suspected he had been about to say much the same." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Treekillers are fit for nothing except to be killed or sold as animals in Shara,\" Erim said grimly. Those were two of the things Aiel did to those who came into the Waste uninvited; only gleemen, peddlers, and Tinkers had safe passage, though Aiel avoided the Tinkers as if they carried fever. Shara was the name of the lands beyond the Waste; not even the Aiel knew much about them.\n\nFrom the corner of his eye, Rand saw two women standing expectantly just inside the tall, arched doorway. Someone had hung strings of colored beads there, red and blue, to replace the missing doors. One of the women was Moiraine. Fora moment he considered making them wait; Moiraine had that irritatingly commanding look on her face, clearly expecting them to break off everything for her. Only, there was really nothing left to discuss, and he could tell from the men's eyes that they did not want to make conversation. Not so soon after speaking of the bleakness, and the Shaido.\n\nSighing, he stood, and the clan chiefs imitated him. All except Han were as tall as he or taller. Where Rand had grownup, Han would have been considered of average height or better; among Aiel, he was accounted short. \"You know what must be done. Bring in the rest of the clans, and keep an eye on the Shaido.\" He paused a moment, then added, \"It will end well. As well for the Aiel as I can manage.\"\n\n\"The prophecy said you would break us,\" Han said sourly, \"and you have made a good beginning. But we will follow you. Till shade is gone,\" he recited, \"till water is gone, into the Shadow with teeth bared, screaming defiance with the last breath, to spit in Sightblinder's eye on the Last Day.\" Sightblinder was one of the Aiel names for the Dark One." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was nothing for Rand except to make the proper response. Once he had not known it. \"By my honor and the Light, my life will be a dagger for Sightblinder's heart.\"\n\n\"Until the Last Day,\" the Aiel finished, \"to Shayol Ghul itself.\" The harper played on pacifically.\n\nThe chiefs filed out past the two women, eyeing Moiraine respectfully. There was nothing of fear in them. Rand wished he could be assure of himself. Moiraine had too many plans for him, too many ways of pulling strings he did not know she had tied to him.\n\nThe two women came in as soon as the chiefs were gone, Moiraine as cool and elegant as ever. A small, pretty woman, with or without those Aes Sedai features he could never put an age to, she had abandoned the damp, cooling cloth for her temples. In its place, a small blue stone hung suspended on her forehead from a fine golden chain in her dark hair. It would not have mattered if she had kept it; nothing could diminish her queenly carriage. She usually seemed to own afoot more height than she actually had, and her eyes were all confidence and command.\n\nThe other woman was taller, though still short of his shoulder, and young, not ageless. Egwene, whom he had grownup with. Now, except for her big dark eyes, she could almost have passed as an Aiel woman, and not only for her tanned face and hands. She wore a full Aiel skirt of brown wool and a loose white blouse of a plant fiber called algode. Algode was softer than even the finestwoven wool; it would do very well for trade, if he ever convinced the Aiel. A gray shawl hung around Egwene's shoulders, and a folded gray scarf made a wide band to hold back the dark hair that fell below her shoulders. Unlike most Aiel women, she wore only one bracelet, ivory carved into a circle of flames, and a single necklace of gold and ivory beads. And one more thing. A Great Serpent ring on her left hand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Egwene had been studying with some of the Aiel Wise Ones-exactly what, Rand did not know, though he more than suspected something to do with dreams; Egwene and the Aiel women were closemouthed-but she had studied in the White Tower, too. She was one of the Accepted, on the way to becoming Aes Sedai. And passing herself off, here and in Tear at least, as full Aes Sedai already. Sometimes he teased her about that; she did not take his japes very well, though.\n\n\"The wagons will be ready to leave for Tar Valon soon,\" Moiraine said. Her voice was musical, crystalline.\n\n\"Send a strong guard,\" Rand said, \"or Kadere may not take them where you want.\" He turned for the windows again, wanting to lookout and think, about Kadere. \"You've not needed me to hold your hand or give you permission before.\"\n\nAbruptly something seemed to strike him across the shoulders, for all the world like a thick hickory stick; only the slight feel of goosebumps on his skin, not likely in this heat, told him that one of the women had channeled.\n\nSpinning back to face them, he reached out to saidin, filled himself with the One Power. The Power felt like life itself swelling inside him, as if he were ten times, a hundred times as alive; the Dark One's taint filled him, too, death and corruption, like maggots crawling in his mouth. It was a torrent that threatened to sweep him away, a raging flood he had to fight every moment. He was almost used to it now, and at the same time he would never be used to it. He wanted to hold onto the sweetness of saidin forever, and he wanted to vomit. And all the while the deluge tried to scour him to the bone and burn his bones to ash." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The taint would drive him mad eventually, if the Power did not kill him first; it was a race between the two. Madness had been the fate of every man who had channeled since the Breaking of the World began, since that day when Lews Therin Telamon, the Dragon, and his Hundred Companions had sealed up the Dark One's prison at Shayol Ghul. The last backblast from that sealing had tainted the male half of the True Source, and men who could channel, madmen who could channel, had torn the world apart.\n\nHe filled himself with the Power... And he could not tell which woman had done it. They both looked at him as if butter would not melt in their mouths, each with an eyebrow arched almost identically in slightly amused questioning. Either or both could be embracing the female half of the Source right that instant, and he would never know.\n\nOf course, a stick across the shoulders was not Moiraine's way; she found other means of chastising, more subtle, usually more painful in the end. Yet even sure that it must have been Egwene, he did nothing. Proof. Thought slid along the outside of the Void; he floated within, in emptiness, thought and emotion, even his anger, distant. I will do nothing without proof. I will not be goaded, this time. She was not the Egwene he had grownup with; she had become part of the Tower since Moiraine sent her there. Moiraine again. Always Moiraine. Sometimes he wished he were rid of Moiraine. Only sometimes?\n\nHe concentrated on her. \"What do you want of me?\" His voice sounded flat and cold to his own ears. The Power stormed inside him. Egwene had told him that fora woman, touching saidar, the female half of the Source, was an embrace; fora man, always, it was a war without mercy. \"And don't mention wagons again, little sister. I usually find out what you mean to do long after it is done.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Aes Sedai frowned at him, and no wonder. She was surely not used to being addressed so, not by any man, even the Dragon Reborn. He had no idea himself where'little sister\" had come from; sometimes of late words seemed to pop into his head. A touch of madness, perhaps. Some nights he lay awake till the small hours, worrying about that. Inside the Void, it seemed someone else's worry.\n\n\"We should speak alone.\" She gave the harper a cool glance.\n\nJasin Natael, as he called himself here, lay halfsprawled on cushions against one of the windowless walls, softly playing the harp perched on his knee, its upper arm carved and gilded to resemble the creatures on Rand's forearms. Dragons, the Aiel called them. Rand had only suspicions where Natael had gotten the thing. He was a darkhaired man, who would have been accounted taller than most elsewhere than the Aiel Waste, in his middle years. His coat and breeches were dark blue silk suitable fora royal court, elaborately embroidered with threadofgold on collar and cuffs, everything buttoned up or laced despite the heat. The fine clothes were at odds with his gleeman's cloak spread out beside him. A perfectly sound cloak, but covered completely with hundreds of patches in nearly as many colors, all sewn so as to flutter at the slightest breeze, it signified a country entertainer, a juggler and tumbler, musician and storyteller who wandered from village to village. Certainly not a man to wear silk. The man had his conceits. He appeared completely immersed in his music.\n\n\"You can say what you wish in front of Natael,\" Rand said. \"He is gleeman to the Dragon Reborn, after all.\" If keeping the matter secret was important enough, she would press it, and he would send Natael away, though he did not like the man to be out of his sight." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Egwene sniffed loudly and shifted her shawl on her shoulders." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Your head is swelled up like an overripe melon, Rand al'Thor.\" She said it flatly, as a statement of fact.\n\nAnger bubbled outside the Void. Not at what she had said; she had been in the habit of trying to take him down a rung even when they were children, usually whether he deserved it or not. But of late it seemed to him she had taken to working with Moiraine, trying to put him off balance so the Aes Sedai could push him where she wanted. When they were younger, before they learned what he was, he and Egwene had thought they would marry one day. And now she sided with Moiraine against him.\n\nFace hard, he spoke more roughly than he intended. \"Tell me what you want, Moiraine. Tell me here and now, or let it wait until I can find time for you. I'm very busy.\" That was an outright lie. Most of his time was spent practicing the sword with Lan, or the spears with Rhuarc, or learning to fight with hands and feet from both. But if there was any bullying to be done here today, he would do it. Natael could hear anything. Almost anything. So long as Rand knew where he was at all times.\n\nMoiraine and Egwene both frowned, but the real Aes Sedai at least seemed to see he would not be budged this time. She glanced at Natael, her mouth tightening-the man still seemed deep in his music-then took a thick wad of gray silk from her pouch.\n\nUnfolding it, she laid what it had contained on the table, a disc the size of a man's hand; half dead black, half purest white, the two colors meeting in a sinuous line to form two joined teardrops. That had been the symbol of Aes Sedai, before the Breaking, but this disc was more. Only seven like it had ever been made, the seals on the Dark One's prison. Or rather, each was a focus for one of those seals. Drawing her belt knife, its hilt wrapped in silver wire, Moiraine scraped delicately at the edge of the disc. And a tiny flake of solid black fell away." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Even encased in the Void, Rand gasped." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The emptiness itself quivered, and for an instant the Power threatened to overwhelm him. \"Is this a copy? A fake?\"\n\n\"I found this in the square below,\" Moiraine said. \"It is real, though. The one I brought with me from Tear is the same.\" She could have been saying she wanted pea soup for the midday meal. Egwene, on the other hand, clutched her shawl around her as if cold.\n\nRand felt the stirrings of fright himself, oozing across the surface of the Void. It was an effort to let goof saidin, but he forced himself. If he lost concentration, the Power could destroy him where he stood, and he wanted all his attention on the matter at hand. Even so, even with the taint, it was a loss.\n\nThat flake lying on the table was impossible. Those discs were made of cuendillar, heartstone, and nothing made of cuendillar could be broken, not even by the One Power. Whatever force was used against it only made it stronger. The making of heartstone had been lost in the Breaking of the World, but whatever had been made of it during the Age of Legends still existed, even the most fragile vase, even if the Breaking had sunk it to the bottom of the ocean or buried it beneath a mountain. Of course, three of the seven discs were broken already, but it had taken a good deal more than a knife.\n\nCome to think of it, though, he did not know how those three really had been broken. If no force short of the Creator could break heartstone, then that should be that.\n\n\"How?\" he asked, surprised that his voice was still as steady as when the Void had surrounded him.\n\n\"I do not know,\" Moiraine replied, just as calm outwardly. \"But you do seethe problem? A fall from the table could break this. If the others, wherever they maybe, are like this, four men with hammers could break open that hole in the Dark One's prison again. Who can even say how effective one is, in this condition?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Rand saw." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I'm not ready yet. He was not sure he ever would be ready, but he surely was not yet. Egwene looked as though she were staring into her own open grave.\n\nRewrapping the disc, Moiraine replaced it in her pouch. \"Perhaps I will think of a possibility before I carry this to Tar Valon. If we know why, perhaps something can be done about it.\"\n\nHe was caught by the image of the Dark One reaching out from Shayol Ghul once more, eventually breaking free completely; fires and darkness covered the world in his mind, flames that consumed and gave no light, blackness solid as stone squeezing the air. With that filling his head, what Moiraine had just said took a moment to penetrate. \"You intend to go yourself?\" He had thought she meant to stick to him like moss to a rock. Isn't this what you want?\n\n\"Eventually,\" Moiraine replied quietly. \"Eventually I will have to leave you, after all. What will be, must be.\" Rand thought she shivered, but it was so quick it could have been his imagination, and the next instant she was all composure and selfcontrol once more. \"You must be ready.\" The reminder of his doubts came unpleasantly. \"We should discuss your plans. You cannot sit here much longer. Even if the Forsaken are not planning to come after you, they are out there, spreading their power. Gathering the Aiel will do no good if you find that everything beyond the Spine of the World is in their hands.\"\n\nChuckling, Rand leaned back against the table. So this was just another ploy; if he was anxious about her leaving, perhaps he would be more willing to listen, more amenable to being guided. She could not lie, of course, not right out. One of the vaunted Three Oaths took care of that: to speak no word that was not true. He had learned that it left a barnwidth of wriggle room. She would leave him alone eventually. After he was dead, no doubt." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You want to discuss my plans,\" he said dryly. Pulling a shortstemmed pipe and a leather tabac pouch from his coat pocket, he thumbed the bowl full and briefly touched saidin to channel aflame dancing above the tabac. \"Why? They are my plans.\" Puffing slowly, he waited, ignoring Egwene's glower.\n\nThe Aes Sedai's face never changed, but her large, dark eyes seemed to blaze. \"What have you done when you refused to be guided by me?\" Her voice was as cool as her features, yet the words still seemed to come like whipcracks. \"Wherever you have gone, you have left death, destruction and war behind you.\"\n\n\"Not in Tear,\" he said, too quickly. And too defensively. He must not let her put him off balance. Determinedly, he took spaced, deliberate puffs at his pipe.\n\n\"No,\" she agreed, \"not in Tear. For once you had a nation behind you, a people, and what did you do with it? Bringing justice to Tear was commendable. Establishing order in Cairhien, feeding the hungry, is laudable. Another time I would praise you for it.\" She herself was Cairhienin. \"But it does not help you toward the day you face Tarmon Gai'don.\" A singleminded woman, and cold when it came to anything else, even her own land. But should he not be just as singleminded?\n\n\"What would you have me do? Hunt down the Forsaken one by one?\" Again he forced himself to draw more slowly on the pipe; it was an effort. \"Do you even know where they are? Oh, Sammael is in Illian-you know that-but the rest? What if I go after Sammael as you wish, and find two or three or four of them? Or all nine?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You could have faced three or four, perhaps all nine surviving,\" she said icily, \"had you not left Callandor in Tear. The truth is, you are running. You do not really have a plan, not a plan to ready you for the Last Battle. You run from place to place, hoping that in someway everything will come out for the best. Hoping, because you do not know what else to do. If you would take my advice, at least you-\" He cut her off, gesturing sharply with his pipe, with never a care for the glares the two women gave him.\n\n\"I do have a plan.\" If they wanted to know, let them know, and he would be burned if he changed a word. \"First, I mean to put an end to the wars and killing, whether I started them or not. If men have to kill, let them kill Trollocs, not each other. In the Aiel War, four clans crossed the Dragonwall, and had their way for better than two years. They looted and burned Cairhien, defeated every army sent against them. They could have taken Tar Valon, had they wanted. The Tower couldn't have stopped them, because of your Three Oaths.\" Not to use the Power as a weapon except against Shadowspawn or Darkfriends, or in defense of their own lives, that was another of the Oaths, and the Aiel had not threatened the Tower itself. Anger had him in its grip now. Running and hoping, was he? \"Four clans did that. What will happen when I lead eleven across the Spine of the World?\" It would have to be eleven; small hope of bringing in the Shaido. \"By the time the nations even think of uniting, it will be too late. They'll accept my peace, or I'll be buried in the Can Breat.\" A discordant plunk rose from the harp, and Natael bent over the instrument, shaking his head. Ina moment the soothing sounds came again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A melon couldn't be swollen enough for your head,\" Egwene muttered, folding her arms beneath her breasts. \"And a stone couldn't be as stubborn! Moiraine is only trying to help you. Why won't you see that?\"\n\nThe Aes Sedai smoothed her silk skirts, though they did not need it. \"Taking the Aiel across the Dragonwall might be the worst thing you could possibly do.\" There was an edge to her voice, anger or frustration. At least he was getting across to her that he was no puppet. \"By this time, the Amyrlin Seat will be approaching the rulers of every nation that still has a ruler, laying the proofs before them that you are the Dragon Reborn. They know the Prophecies; they know what you were born to do. Once they are convinced of who and what you are, they will accept you because they must. The Last Battle is coming, and you are their only hope, humankind's only hope.\"\n\nRand laughed out loud. It was a bitter laugh. Sticking his pipe between his teeth, he hoisted himself to sit crosslegged atop the table, staring at them. \"So you and Siuan Sanche still think you know everything there is to know.\" The Light willing, they did not know near everything about him, and would never find out. \"You're both fools.\"\n\n\"Show some respect!\" Egwene growled, but Rand went on over her words.\n\n\"The Tairen High Lords know the Prophecies, too, and they knew me, once they saw the Sword That Cannot Be Touched clutched in my fist. Half of them expect me to bring them power or glory or both. The other half would as soon slip a knife in my back and try to forget the Dragon Reborn was ever in Tear. That is how the nations will greet the Dragon Reborn. Unless I quell them first, the same way I did the Tairens. Do you know why I left Callandor in Tear? To remind them of me. Everyday they know it is there, driven into the Heart of the Stone, and they know I'll comeback for it. That is what holds them tome.\" That was one reason he had left the Sword That Is Not a Sword behind. He did not like even to think of the other." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Be very careful,\" Moiraine said after a moment. Just that, in a voice all frozen calm. He heard stark warning in the words. Once he had heard her say in much the same tone that she would see him dead before letting the Shadow have him. A hard woman.\n\nFora long moment she gazed at him, her eyes dark pools that threatened to swallow him. Then she made a perfect curtsy. \"By your leave, my Lord Dragon, I will see to letting Master Kadere know where I expect him to work tomorrow.\"\n\nNo one could have seen or heard the faintest mockery inaction or words, but Rand felt it. Anything that might put him off balance, make him more biddable by guilt or shame or uncertainty or whatever, she would try. He stared after her until the clicking beads in the doorway obscured her...\n\n\"There is no need you scowling like that, Rand al'Thor.\" Egwene's voice was low, her eyes irate; she held onto her shawl as if she wanted to strangle him with it. \"Lord Dragon, indeed! Whatever you are, you're a rude, illmannered lout. You deserve more than you got. It would not kill you to be civil!\"\n\n\"So it was you,\" he snapped, but to his surprise she halfshook her head before catching herself. It had been Moiraine after all. If the Aes Sedai was showing that much temper, something must be wearing at her terribly. Him, no doubt. Perhaps he should apologize. I suppose it wouldn't hurt to be civil. Though he could not see why he was supposed to be mannerly to the Aes Sedai while she tried to lead him on a leash.\n\nBut if he was thinking of trying to be polite, Egwene was not. If glowing coals were dark brown, they would have been exactly like her eyes. \"You area woolheaded fool, Rand al'Thor, and I should never have told Elayne you were good enough for her. You aren't good enough fora weasel! Bring your nose down. I remember you sweating, trying to talk your way out of some trouble Mat had gotten you into. I can remember Nynaeve switching you till you howled, and you needing a cushion to sit on the rest of the day. Not that many years gone, either. I ought to tell Elayne to forget you. If she knew half what you've turned into...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He gaped at her as the tirade went on, with her more furious than at anytime since first coming through the bead curtain. Then it hit him. That little near shake of her head that she had not meant to give, letting him know it had been Moiraine who struck him with the Power. Egwene worked very hard at doing what she was about in proper fashion. Studying with the Wise Ones, she wore Aiel clothes; she might even be trying to adopt Aiel customs, for all he knew. It would be like her. But she worked hard at being a proper Aes Sedai all the time, even if she was only one of the Accepted. Aes Sedai usually kept a rein on their tempers, but they never ever gave anything away that they wanted to hide.\n\nIlyena never flashed her temper at me when she was angry with herself. When she gave me the rough side of her tongue, it was because she... His mind froze for an instant. He had never meta woman named Ilyena in his life. But he could summon up a face for the name, dimly; a pretty face, skin like cream, golden hair exactly the shade of Elayne's. This had to be the madness. Remembering an imaginary woman. Perhaps one day he would find himself having conversations with people who were not there.\n\nEgwene's harangue shutoff with a concerned look. \"Are you all right, Rand?\" The anger was gone from her voice as if it had never been. \"Is something wrong? Should I fetch Moiraine back to-\"\n\n\"No!\" he said, and just as quickly softened his own tone. \"She can't Heal...\" Even an Aes Sedai could not Heal madness; none of them could Heal any of what ailed him. \"Is Elayne well?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"She is well.\" Despite what Egwene had said, there was a hint of sympathy in her voice. That was all he really expected. Beyond what he had known when Elayne left Tear, what she was up to was an Aes Sedai concern and none of his; so Egwene had told him more than once, and Moiraine echoed her. The three Wise Ones who could dreamwalk, those Egwene was studying with, had been even less informative; they had their own reasons not to be pleased with him.\n\n\"I had best go, too,\" Egwene went on, settling her shawl over her arms. \"You are tired.\" Frowning slightly, she said, \"Rand, what does it mean to be buried in the Can Breat?\"\n\nHe started to ask what under the Light she was talking about. Then he remembered using that phrase. \"Just something I heard once,\" he lied. He had no more idea what it meant than where it had come from.\n\n\"You rest, Rand,\" she said, sounding twenty years older rather than two younger. \"Promise me you will. You need it.\" He nodded. She studied his face fora moment as though searching for the truth, then started for the door.\n\nRand's silver goblet of wine floated up from the carpet and drifted to him. He hastily snatched it out of the air just before Egwene looked back over her shoulder.\n\n\"Perhaps I shouldn't tell you this,\" she said. \"Elayne didn't give it tome as a message for you, but... She said she loves you. Perhaps you know already, but if you don't, you should think about it.\" With that she was gone, the beads clicking together behind her.\n\nLeaping from the table, Rand hurled the goblet away, splashing wine across the floor tiles as he rounded on Jasin Natael in a fury." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Encounters in Samara\n\nThe Whitecloaks at the gates gave Uno and Nynaeve no more mind than they gave anyone else in the steady throng, which was to say a cold suspicious stare, searching yet quick. Too many people made anything else impossible, and maybe the scalearmored guards did, too. Not that there was any reason for more except in her mind. Her Great Serpent ring and Lan's heavy gold ring both nestled in her pouch-the dress's low neckline meant she could not wear them on the thong-but somehow she almost expected Children of the Light to pick out a Towertrained woman by instinct. Her relief was palpable when those icy, unfeeling eyes swept past her.\n\nThe soldiers paid the two of them as little attention-once she rearranged her shawl yet again. Uno's scowl might have helped send their eyes back to the Whitecloaks, but the man had no right to scowl in the first place. It washer business.\n\nRewrapping the folded length of gray wool one more time, she tied the ends around her waist. The shawl defined her bosom more than she wished, and still exposed a bit of cleavage, yet it was a considerable improvement on the dress alone. At least she would not have to worry about the shawl slipping again. If only the thing were not so hot. The weather really should be turning soon. They were not that far south of the Two Rivers.\n\nUno patiently waited on her fora change. She was of two minds as to whether this was simple courtesy-his scarred face looked a deal too patient-but finally they walked together into Samara. Into chaos.\n\nA babble of noise hungover everything, no one sound distinguishable. People jammed the rough stonepaved streets all but shoulder to shoulder from slateroofed taverns to thatchroofed stables, from raucous inns with simple painted signs like The Blue Bull or The Dancing Goose to shops where the signs had no words, only a knifeandscissors here, a bolt of cloth there, a goldsmith's scales or a barber's razor, a pot or a lamp or a boot. Nynaeve saw faces as pale as that of any Andorman and as dark as that of any of the Sea Folk, some clean, some dirty, and coats with high collars, low collars, no collars, drably colored and bright, plain and embroidered, shabby and near newmade, in styles strange as often as familiar. One fellow with a dark forked beard wore silver chains across the chest of his plain blue coat, and two with their hair in braids-men, with a black braid over each ear below their shoulders!-had tiny brass bells sewn to their red coatsleeves and the turneddown tops of thighhigh boots. Whatever land they hailed from, those two were not fools; their dark eyes were hard and searching as Uno's, and they carried curved swords on their backs. A barechested man in a bright yellow sash, skin a deeper brown than aged wood and hands intricately tattooed, had to be one of the Sea Folk, though he wore neither earrings nor nose ring." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Scribe for the author and continue the tale.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, war\nAuthor: Robert Jordan\nTitle: The Fires of Heaven\nChapter: 49" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Why had she jumped to Jurene?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was simple, and answered as soon as she thought of it. Jurene was the one place she knew well enough to leap to in Tel'aran'rhiod that she could be sure Moghedien did not know. They had been therefor an hour, before Moghedien knew she existed, and she was sure neither she nor Elayne had ever mentioned it again, in Tel'aran'rhiod or awake.\n\nBut that left another question. The same one, in away. Why Jurene? Why not step out of the Dream, wake up in her own bed, such as it was, if washing dishes and scrubbing floors on top of everything had not left her so weary she slept right on? I can still step out. Moghedien had seen her in Salidar, if that had been Moghedien. Moghedien knew Salidar now. I can tell Sheriam. How? Admit she was teaching Siuan? She was not supposed to have her hands on those ter'angreal except with Sheriam and the other Aes Sedai. How Siuan got hold of them when she wanted, Nynaeve did not know. No, she was not afraid of more hours up to her elbows in hot water. She was afraid of Moghedien. Anger burned in her belly fiercely. She wished she had some goosemint out of her scrip of herbs. I am so... so bloody tired of being afraid.\n\nThere was a bench in front of one of the houses, overlooking dock and river. She sat down and considered her situation from every angle. It was ridiculous. The True Source was a pale thing. She channeled aflame dancing in air above her hand. She might look solid-to herself, anyway-but she could seethe river through that scrap of fire. She tied it off, and it faded away like mist as soon as the knot was done. How could she face Moghedien when the weakest novice in Salidar could match or better her strength? That was why she had fled here instead of leaving Tel'aran'rhiod. Afraid and angry at being afraid, too angry to think straight, to consider her own weakness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She would step out of the Dream." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Whatever Siuan's scheme had been, it was done; she would have to take her chances right along with Nynaeve. The thought of more hours scrubbing floors tightened her hand on her braid. Days more likely, and maybe Sheriam's switch besides. They might never let her near one of the dream ter'angreal again, or any ter'angreal. They would set Faolain over her instead of Theodrin. A finish to studying Siuan and Leane, much less Logain; maybe a finish to studying Healing.\n\nIna fury she channeled another flame. If it was a whit stronger, she could not see it. So much for trying to crank her anger in hope it would help. \"There's nothing for it but to just tell them I saw Moghedien,\" she muttered, yanking her braid hard enough to hurt. \"Light, they will give me to Faolain. I'd almost rather die!\"\n\n\"But you seem to enjoy running little errands for her.\"\n\nThat mocking voice pulled Nynaeve up off the bench like hands on her shoulders. Moghedien stood in the street all in black, shaking her head at what she saw. With all her strength Nynaeve wove a shield of Spirit and hurled it between the other woman and saidar. Tried to hurl it between; it was like chopping at a tree with a paper hatchet. Moghedien actually smiled before she bothered to slice Nynaeve's weave, and that as casually as brushing a biteme away from her face. Nynaeve stared at her as though poleaxed. After everything it came down to this. The One Power, useless. All the anger bubbling inside her, useless. All her plans, her hopes, useless. Moghedien did not bother to strike back. She did not even bother to channel a shield of her own. That was how much contempt she had." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I was afraid you had seen me. I grew careless when you and Siuan started trying to kill each other. With your hands.\" Moghedien gave a belittling laugh. She was weaving something, lazily because there was no reason to hurry. Nynaeve did not know what it was, yet she wanted to scream. Fury seethed inside her, but fear dulled her wits, rooted her feet to the ground. \"Sometimes I think you are all too ignorant even to train, you and the former Amyrlin Seat and all the rest. But I cannot allow you to betray me.\" That weave was reaching out for her. \"It is time to collect you at last, it seems.\"\n\n\"Hold, Moghedien!\" Birgitte shouted.\n\nNynaeve's mouth dropped open. It was Birgitte, as she had been, in her short white coat and wide yellow trousers, intricate golden braid pulled over her shoulder, silver arrow drawn on silver bow. It was impossible. Birgitte was no longer part of Tel'aran'rhiod, she was back in Salidar, making sure no one discovered Nynaeve and Siuan asleep with the sunup and began asking questions.\n\nMoghedien was so shocked, the flows she had woven vanished. Shock lasted less than a moment, though. The gleaming arrow flew from Birgitte's bow-and evaporated. The bow evaporated. Something seemed to seize the archer, jerking her arms straight up, pulling her clear of the ground. Almost immediately she was snubbed short, pulled tight between wrists and ankles afoot above the ground.\n\n\"I should have considered the possibility of you.\" Moghedien turned her back on Nynaeve to move closer to Birgitte. \"Do you enjoy your flesh? Without Gaidal Cain?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve thought of channeling. But what? A dagger that might not even penetrate the woman's skin? Fire that would not singe her skirts? Moghedien knew how useless she was; she was not even looking at her. If she stopped the flow of Spirit to the sleeping woman in amber, she would wake in Salidar, she could give warning. Her face twisted near to tears as she looked at Birgitte. The goldenhaired woman hung there, staring defiantly at Moghedien. Moghedien contemplated her in return as a woodcarver would a block of wood.\n\nThere's only me, Nynaeve thought. I might as well not be able to channel at all. There's only me.\n\nLifting that first foot was like pulling it out of kneedeep mud, the second staggering step no easier. Toward Moghedien. \"Don't hurt me,\" Nynaeve cried. \"Please. Don't hurt me.\" A chill ran through her. Birgitte was gone. A child of perhaps three or four, in short white coat and wide yellow trousers, stood there playing with a toysized silver bow. Flipping her golden braid back, the child aimed the bow at Nynaeve and giggled, then stuck a finger in her mouth as though unsure whether she had done something wrong. Nynaeve sagged to her knees. It was hard work crawling in skirts, but she did not think she could have remained standing. Somehow she managed, reaching out a pleading hand and whimpering. \"Please. Don't hurt me. Please. Don't hurt me.\" Over and over as she dragged toward the Forsaken, a broken beetle scrabbling in the dirt.\n\nMoghedien watched silently, until at last she said, \"Once I thought you were stronger than this. Now I find I truly like the sight of you on your knees. That is close enough, girl. Not that I think you have courage enough to try tearing my hair out...\" She seemed amused by the notion." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve's hand wavered a span from Moghedien. It had to be close enough. There was only her. And Tel'aran'rhiod. The image formed in her head, and there it was, silver bracelet on her outstretched wrist, silver leash linking it to the silver collar around Moghedien's neck. It was not just the a'dam she fixed in her head, but Moghedien wearing it, Moghedien and the a'dam, apart of Tel'aran'rhiod that she held in the form she wanted. She knew something of what to expect; she had worn an a'dam's bracelet briefly once, in Falme. Ina strange way she was aware of Moghedien in the same way she was aware of her own body, her own emotions, two sets, each distinct, but each in her own head. One thing she had only hoped, because Elayne insisted it was so. The thing was indeed a link; she could feel the Source through the other woman.\n\nMoghedien's hand leaped to the collar, shock rounding her eyes. Rage and horror. Rage more than horror, at first. Nynaeve felt them almost as if they were her own. Moghedien had to know what the leashandcollar was, yet she tried to channel anyway; at the same time Nynaeve felt a slight shifting in herself, in the a'dam, as the other woman tried to bend Tel'aran'rhiod to herself. Suppressing Moghedien's attempt was simple; the a'dam was a link, with her in control. Knowing that made it easy. Nynaeve did not want to channel those flows, so they were not channeled. Moghedien might as well have tried to pickup a mountain with her bare hands. Horror overwhelmed rage." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Getting to her feet, Nynaeve fastened the proper image in her mind. She did not just imagine Moghedien leashed in the a'dam, she knew Moghedien was leashed, as firmly as she knew her own name. The sense of shifting, of her skin trying to crawl, did not go away, though. \"Stop that,\" she said sharply. The a'dam did not move, but it seemed to tremble unseen. She thought of blackwasp nettles lightly brushing the other woman from shoulders to knees. Moghedien shuddered, exhaled convulsively. \"Stop it, I said, or I'll do worse.\" The shifting ceased. Moghedien watched her warily, still clutching the silver collar around her neck and with an air of being poised on her toes for flight.\n\nBirgitte-the child who was, or had been, Birgitte-stood eyeing them curiously. Nynaeve formed the image of her as a grown woman, concentrated. The little girl put her finger back in her mouth and began studying the toy bow. Nynaeve breathed angrily. It was hard changing what someone else was already maintaining. And on top of that, Moghedien had claimed she could make, changes permanent. But what she could do, she could undo. \"Restore her.\"\n\n\"If you release me, I-\"\n\nNynaeve thought of nettles again, and not alight brush this time. Moghedien sucked air through clenched teeth, shook like a bedsheet in a high wind.\n\n\"That,\" Birgitte said, \"was the most frightening thing that has ever happened tome.\" Herself once more, she wore the short coat and wide trousers, but she had no bow or quiver. \"I was a child, but at the same time, what was me-really me-was just some fancy floating in the back of that child's mind. And I knew it. I knew I was just going to watch what happened and play...\" Flipping her golden braid back over her shoulder, she gave Moghedien a hard look." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"How did you get here?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve asked. \"I am grateful, you understand, but... how?\"\n\nBirgitte gave Moghedien a final stony stare, then opened her coat to fish in the neck of her blouse, pulling up the twisted stone ring on a leather thong. \"Siuan woke up. Just fora moment, and not all the way. Long enough to grumble about you snatching this from her. When you didn't wake right behind her, I knew something must be wrong, so I took the ring and the last of what you mixed for Siuan.\"\n\n\"There was hardly any left. Only the dregs.\"\n\n\"Enough to put me to sleep. It tastes horrible, by the way. After that, it was as easy as finding featherdancers in Shiota. In someways this is almost as if I were still-\" Birgitte cutoff with another glare for Moghedien. The silver bow reappeared in her hand, and a quiver of silver arrows at her hip, yet after one moment they vanished again. \"Past is past, and the future is ahead,\" she said firmly. \"I was not truly surprised to realize there were two of you who knew they were in Tel'aran'rhiod. I knew the other must be her, and when I arrived and saw the pair of you... It seemed as if she had already captured you, but I hoped that if I distracted her, you might come up with something.\"\n\nNynaeve felt a stab of shame. She had considered abandoning Birgitte. That was what she had almost come up with. The thought had only been therefor a moment, rejected as soon as it came, but it had come. What a coward she was. Surely Birgitte never had even moments when fear almost took control of her. \"I...\" A faint taste of boiled catfern and powdered mavinsleaf. \"I almost ran away,\" she said faintly. \"I was so frightened my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I almost ran away and left you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Oh?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve writhed inside as Birgitte considered her. \"But you did not, did you? I should have loosed before I called out, but I've never felt comfortable shooting anyone from behind. Even her. Still, it all worked out. But what do we do with her now?\"\n\nMoghedien certainly seemed to have overcome her fear. Ignoring the silver collar around her throat, she watched Nynaeve and Birgitte as though they were the prisoners, not she, and she was deliberating what to do with them. Except for an occasional twitch of her hands, as if she wanted to scratch where her skin held the memory of nettles, she appeared blackclad serenity. Only the a'dam let Nynaeve know there was fear in the woman, almost a gibbering, but pushed down to a muted buzz. She wished the thing let her know what Moghedien was thinking as well as feeling. Then again, she was just as glad not to be inside the mind behind those cold dark eyes.\n\n\"Before you consider anything... drastic,\" Moghedien said, \"remember that I know much that would be useful to you. I have observed the other Chosen, peeked into their schemes. Is that not worth something?\"\n\n\"Tell me, and I will consider whether it's worth anything,\" Nynaeve said. What could she do with the woman?\n\n\"Lanfear, Graendal, Rahvin and Sammael are plotting together.\"\n\nNynaeve gave the leash a short tug, staggering her. \"I know that. Tell me something new.\" The woman was captive here, but the a'dam only existed so long as they were in Tel'aran'rhiod\n\n\"Do you know they are drawing Rand al'Thor to attack Sammael? But when he does, he will find the others as well, waiting to trap him between them. At least, he will find Graendal and Rahvin. I think Lanfear plays another game, one the others know nothing about.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve exchanged worried glances with Birgitte. Rand must learn of this. He would, as soon as she and Elayne could speak to Egwene tonight. If they could manage to put their hands on the ter'angreal long enough.\n\n\"That is,\" Moghedien murmured, \"if he lives long enough to find them.\"\n\nNynaeve took hold of the silvery leash where it joined the collar and pulled the Forsaken's face close to hers. Dark eyes met her gaze flatly, but she could feel anger through the a'dam, and fear wriggling up and being stamped down. \"You listen tome. Do you think I don't know why you are pretending to be so cooperative? You think if you keep talking long enough, I will make some slip, and you can escape. You think the longer we talk, the harder I'll find it to kill you.\" That much was true enough. To kill somebody in cold blood, even one of the Forsaken, would be hard, maybe harder than she could manage. What was she going to do with the woman? \"But you understand this. I won't allow hinting at things. If you try keeping anything back from me, I will do to you everything you ever thought of doing tome.\" Dread, creeping through the leash, like bonechilling shrieks deep in Moghedien's mind. Maybe she did not know as much about a'dam as Nynaeve thought. Maybe she believed Nynaeve could read her thoughts if she tried. \"Now if you know of some threat to Rand, something ahead of Sammael and the others, you tell me. Now!\"\n\nWords spilled from Moghedien's mouth, and her tongue flickered out to wet her lips continually. \"Al'Thor means to go after Rahvin. Today. This morning. Because he thinks Rahvin killed Morgase. I don't know whether he did or not, but al'Thor believes it. But Rahvin never trusted Lanfear. He never trusted any of them. Why should he? He thought it all might be some trap set for him, so he has laid a trap of his own. He has set Wards through Caemlyn so if a man channels a spark he will know. Al'Thor will walk right into it. He almost certainly already has. I think he meant to leave Cairhien right after sunrise. I had no part of it. It was none of it my doing. I-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Nynaeve wanted to shut her up; the fear sweat glistening on the woman's face made her sick, but if she had to listen to that pleading voice, too..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She started to channel, wondering whether she would be strong enough to hold Moghedien's tongue, then smiled. She was linked to Moghedien, and in control. Moghedien's eyes bulged as she wove flows to stop her own mouth and tied them. Nynaeve added plugs for her ears too, before turning to Birgitte. \"What do you think?\"\n\n\"Elayne's heart will break. She loves her mother.\"\n\n\"I know that!\" Nynaeve took a breath. \"I will cry with her and mean every tear, but right now I must worry about Rand. I think she was telling the truth. I could almost feel it.\" She caught the silver leash just below her bracelet and shook it. \"Maybe it's this, and maybe it was imagination. What do you believe?\"\n\n\"That it's the truth. She was never very brave unless she clearly had the upper hand, or thought she could get it. And you certainly put the fear of the Light into her.\"\n\nNynaeve grimaced. Birgitte's every word put another bubble of anger in her belly. She was never very brave except when she clearly had the upper hand. That could describe herself. She had put the fear of the Light into Moghedien. She had, and she had meant every word when she said it. Boxing somebody's ears when they needed it was one thing; threatening torture, wanting to torture, even Moghedien, was something else again. And here she was trying to avoid what she knew she had to do. Never very brave except when she clearly had the upper hand. This time the bubble of anger was seeded by herself. \"We have to go to Caemlyn. I do, at least. With her. I may not be able to channel strongly enough to tear paper as I am, but with the a'dam I can use her strength.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You won't be able to affect anything in the waking world from Tel'aran'rhiod,\" Birgitte said quietly.\n\n\"I know! I know, but I have to do something.\"\n\nBirgitte threw back her head and laughed. \"Oh, Nynaeve, it is such an embarrassment being associated with such a coward as you.\" Abruptly her eyes widened in surprise. \"There wasn't much of your potion left. I think I am wak-\" In midword, she was simply no longer there.\n\nTaking a deep breath, Nynaeve untied the flows around Moghedien. Or made her do it; with the a'dam it was hard to tell which, really. She wished Birgitte was still there. Another pair of eyes. Someone who probably knew Tel'aran'rhiod better than she ever could. Someone who was brave. \"We are taking a trip, Moghedien, and you are going to help me with every last scrap of you. If anything takes me by surprise... Suffice it to say, anything that happens to the one wearing this bracelet happens to the one wearing the collar. Only about tenfold.\" The sickly look on Moghedien's face said she believed. Which was just as well, since it was true.\n\nAnother deep breath, and Nynaeve began forming the image of the one place in Caemlyn she knew well enough to remember. The Royal Palace, where Elayne had taken her. Rahvin must be there. But in the waking world, not the World of Dreams. Still, she had to do something. Tel'aran'rhiod changed around her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Threads Burn\n\nRand stopped. Along scorch along the corridor wall marked where half a dozen costly tapestries had gone to ash. Flames licked upward on another; a number of inlaid chests and tables were only charred ruins. Not his work. Thirty paces further on, redcoated men in breastplates and helmets with barred faceguards lay contorted in death on the white floortiles, useless swords in hand. Not his work either. Rahvin had been wasteful of his own in attempting to reach Rand. He had been clever in his attacks, clever in his escapes, but from the moment he fled the throneroom he had not faced Rand for more than the instant it took to strike and flee. Rahvin was strong, perhaps as strong as Rand, and more knowledgeable, but Rand had the fatlittleman angreal in his pocket, and Rahvin had none.\n\nThe corridor was doubly familiar, once for having seen it before, once for having seen something similar.\n\nI walked this way with Elayne and Gawyn the day I met Morgase. The thought slithered painfully along the boundaries of the Void. He was cold in there, without emotion. Saidin raged and burned, but he was icy calm.\n\nAnd another thought, like a stab. She lay on a floor like this, her golden hair spread as though sleeping. Ilyena Sunhair. My Ilyena.\n\nElaida had been there that day, too. She Foretold the pain I'd bring. She knew the darkness in me. Some of it. Enough.\n\nIlyena, I did not know what I was doing. I was mad! 1 am mad. Oh. Ilyena!\n\nElaida knew-some-but she did not tell even all of that. Better if she had told." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Oh, Light, is there no forgiveness? I did what I did in madness. Is there no mercy?\n\nGareth Bryne would have killed me, had he known. Morgase would have ordered my death. Morgase would be alive, perhaps. Elayne's mother alive. Aviendha alive. Mat. Moiraine. How many alive, if I had died?\n\nI have earned my torment. I deserve the final death. Oh, Ilyena, I deserve death.\n\nI deserve death.\n\nBootsteps behind him. He turned.\n\nThey came out of abroad crossing corridor not twenty paces from him, two dozen men in breastplates and helmets and the whitecollared redcoats of the Queen's Guards. Except that Andor had no queen now, and these men had not served her while she lived. A Myrddraal led them, pale eyeless face like something found under a rock, overlapping plates of black armor heightening the illusion of a serpent as it moved, black cloak hanging motionless however it moved. The look of the Eyeless was fear, but fear was a distant thing in the Void. They hesitated when they saw him; then the Halfman raised its blackbladed sword. Men who had not already drawn put hands to hilts.\n\nRand-he thought that was his name-channeled in away he could not remember doing before.\n\nMen and Myrddraal stiffened where they stood. White frost grew thick on them, frost that smoked as Mat's boots had smoked. The Myrddraal's upraised arm broke off with aloud crack. When it hit the floortiles, arm and sword shattered.\n\nRand could feel the cold-yes, that was his name; Rand-cold like a knife as he walked past and turned the way they had come. Cold, yet warmer than saidin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "A man and a woman crouched against the wall, servants liveried in red and white, short of their middle years and holding each other as though for protection." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Seeing Rand-there was more to the name; not just Rand-the man started to rise from where he had huddled away from the Myrddraalled band, but the woman hauled him back by his sleeve.\n\n\"Go in peace,\" Rand said, putting out a hand. Al'Thor. Yes, Rand al'Thor. \"I'll not hurt you, but you could be hurt if you stay.\"\n\nThe woman's brown eyes rolled up in her head. She would have collapsed in a heap if the man had not caught her, and his narrow mouth was working rapidly, as if he was praying but could not get the words out.\n\nRand looked where the man was looking. His hand had stretched out of his coatsleeve far enough to bare the Dragon's golden maned head that was part of his skin. \"I will not hurt you,\" he said, and walked on, leaving them there. He had Rahvin to corner yet. Rahvin to kill. And then?\n\nNo sound but the click of his boots on the tiles. And deep in his head, a faint voice murmuring mournfully of Ilyena and forgiveness. He strained to feel Rahvin channeling, to feel the man filled with the True Source. Nothing. Saidin seared his bones, froze his flesh, scoured his soul, but from without it was not easy to see until you were close. A lion in high grass, Asmodean had said once. A rabid lion. Should Asmodean count among those who should not have died? Or Lanfear? No. Not-\n\nHe had only a moment's warning to throw himself flat, a hairthin slice of time between feeling flows suddenly woven and an armthick bar of white light, liquid fire, slicing through the wall, ripping across like a sword through where his chest had been. Where that bar slashed, on both sides of the hallways, wall and friezes, doors and tapestries ceased to exist. Severed wallhangings and chunks of stone and plaster broken free rained to the floor." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So much for the Forsaken fearing to use balefire. Who had told him that? Moiraine. She surely had deserved to live.\n\nBalefire leaped from his hands, a brilliant white shaft streaking toward where that other bar had originated. The other failed even as his punched through the wall, leaving a purple afterimage fanning across his vision. He released his own flow. Had he done it finally?\n\nScrambling to his feet, he channeled Air, slamming ruined doors open so hard that the remnants ripped from the hinges. Inside, the room was empty. A sitting room, with chairs arrayed before a great marble fireplace. His balefire had taken a bite out of one of the arches leading to a small courtyard with a fountain, and another from one of the fluted columns along the walk beyond.\n\nRahvin had not gone that way, though, and he had not died in that blast of balefire. A residue hung in the air, a fading remnant of woven saidin. Rand recognized it. Different from the gateway he had made to Skim to Caemlyn, or the one to Travel-he knew now that was what he had done-into the throne room. But he had seen one like this in Tear, had made one himself.\n\nHe wove another now. A gateway, an opening at least, a hole in reality. It was not blackness on the other side. In fact, if he had not known the way was there, if he could not have seen the weave of it, he might not have known. There before him were the same arches opening onto the same courtyard and fountain, the same columned walk. For an instant the neatly rounded holes his balefire had made in arch and column wavered, filled, then were holes again. Wherever that gateway led, it was to somewhere else, a reflection of the Royal palace as once it had been a reflection of the Stone of Tear. Vaguely he regretted not talking to Asmodean about it while he had the chance, but he had never been able to speak of that day to anyone. It did not matter. On that day he had carried Callandor, but the angreal in his pocket had already proved enough to harry Rahvin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Stepping through quickly, he loosed the weave and hurried away across the courtyard as the gateway vanished. Rahvin would have felt that gate if he was close enough and trying. The fat little stone man did not mean he could stand and wait to be attacked.\n\nNo sign of life, except for himself and one fly. That was the way it had been in Tear, too. Standlamps in the hallways stood unlit, with pale wicks that had never seen aflame, yet even in what should have been the dimmest hall there was light, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere. Sometimes those lamps moved, too, and other things as well. Between one glance and the next a tall lamp might have moved afoot, a vase in a niche an inch. Little things, as if someone had shifted them in the time his eyes were away. Wherever this was, it was a strange place.\n\nIt came to him, as he trotted along another colonnade, sensing for Rahvin, that he had not heard the voice crying over Ilyena since he channeled balefire. Perhaps he had somehow chased Lews Therin out of his head.\n\nGood. He stopped at the edge of one of the palace gardens. The roses and whitestar bushes looked as drought bedraggled as they would have in the real palace. On some of the white spires rising above the rooftops, the White Lion banner rippled, but which spire could change in the blink of an eye. Good, if I don't have to share my head with-\n\nHe felt odd. Insubstantial. He raised his arm, and stared. He could seethe garden through coatsleeve and arm as through a mist. A mist that was thinning. When he glanced down, he could seethe walk's paving stones through himself." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "No! It was not his thought. An image began to coalesce. A tall, darkeyed man with a worrycreased face and more white in his hair than brown. I am Lews Ther-\n\nI am Rand al'Thor, Rand broke in. He did not know what was happening, but the faint Dragon was beginning to fade from the misty arm held in front of his face. The arm began to look darker, the fingers on his hand longer. I am me. That echoed in the Void. I am Rand al'Thor.\n\nHe fought to picture himself in his own mind, struggled to make the image of what he saw in the mirror everyday shaving, what he saw in a standmirror dressing. It was a frantic fight. He had never really looked at himself. The two images waxed and waned, the older darkeyed man and the younger with bluegray eyes. Slowly the younger image firmed, the older faded. Slowly his arm grew more solid. His arm, with the Dragon twined around it and the heron branded into his palm. There had been times he hated those marks, but now, even enclosed within the emotionless Void, he almost grinned to see them.\n\nWhy had Lews Therin tried to take him over? To make him into Lews Therin. He was sure that was who that darkeyed man with the suffering face had been. Why now? Because he could in this place, whatever it was? Wait. It had been Lews Therin who shouted that adamant'no.\" Not an attack by Lews Therin. By Rahvin, and not using the Power. If the man had been able to do this back in Caemlyn, the real Caemlyn, he would have. It had to be some ability he had gained here. And if Rahvin had gained it, perhaps he had too. The image of himself had been what held him, brought him back." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He focused on the nearest rosebush, a thing a span high, and imagined it growing thin, foggy. Obediently, it melted away to nothing, but as soon as the picture in his mind was nothing, the rosebush was suddenly back, just as it had been.\n\nRand nodded coldly. It had limits, then. There were always limits and rules, and he did not know them here. But he knew the Power, as much as Asmodean had taught him and he had taught himself, and saidin was still in him, all the sweetness of life, all the corruption of death. Rahvin had to have seen him to attack. With the Power you had to see something to affect it, or know exactly where it was in relation to you down to a hair. Perhaps it was different here, but he did not think so. He almost wished Lews Therin had not gone silent again. The man might know this place and its rules.\n\nBalconies and windows overlooked the garden, in some places four stories high. Rahvin had tried to unmake him. He drew on the raging torrent of saidin through the angreal. Lightnings flashed from the sky, a hundred forking silver bolts, more, stabbing at every window, every balcony. Thunder filled the garden, erupting chunks of stone. The air itself crackled, and the hair on his arms and chest tried to stand under his shirt. Even the hair on his head began to lift. He let the lightnings die. Here and there bits of shattered stone window frame and balcony broke loose, the crash of their fall muted by the echoes of thunder still ringing in his ears.\n\nGaping holes peered down now where windows had. They looked like sockets in some monstrous skull, the ruined balconies like a dozen splintered mouths. If Rahvin had been at any of them, he was surely dead. Rand would not believe it until he saw the corpse. He wanted to see Rahvin dead." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Wearing a snarl he did not know was there, he stalked back into the palace. He had wanted to see Rahvin die.\n\nNynaeve hurled herself flat and scrambled along the hall floor as something slashed through the nearest wall. Moghedien slithered as fast as she, but if the woman had not, she would have hauled her by the a'dam. Had that been Rand, or Rahvin? She had seen bars of white fire, liquid light, like that in Tanchico, and she had no wish to be anywhere near one again. She did not know what it was, and she did not want to know. I want to Heal, burn both of these fool men, not learn a fancy way to kill!\n\nShe levered herself up to a crouch, peered back the way they had come. Nothing. An empty palace hallway. With a tenfoot long gash through both walls, as neat as any stoneworker could have done, and bits of tapestry lying on the floor. No sign of either man. She had not had a glimpse of either so far. Only their handiwork. Sometimes that handiwork had almost been her. A good thing that she could draw on Moghedien's anger, filter it out of the terror clawing to escape and let it seep into her. Her own was a pitiful thing that would scarcely have allowed her to sense the True Source, much less channel the flow of Spirit that kept her in Tel'aran'rhiod.\n\nMoghedien was hunched over on her knees, dry retching. Nynaeve's mouth tightened. The woman had tried to remove the a'dam again. Her cooperation had faded quickly when they discovered Rand and Rahvin actually herein Tel'aran'rhiod. Well, trying to unfasten that collar when it was around your neck was its own punishment. At least Moghedien did not have anything left in her stomach this time." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Please.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Moghedien caught at Nynaeve's skirt. \"I tell you, we must getaway.\" Stark panic made her voice painful. Moghedien's clawing terror mirrored itself on her face. \"They are herein the flesh. The flesh!\"\n\n\"Be quiet,\" Nynaeve said absently. \"Unless you've lied tome, that is an advantage. For me.\" The other woman claimed that being in the World of Dreams physically limited your control of the Dream. Or rather, she admitted it, after letting a bit of the knowledge slip. She had admitted, too, that Rahvin did not know Tel'aran'rhiod as well as she. Nynaeve hoped that meant he did not know it as well as she did. That he knew more than Rand, she did not doubt. That woolheaded man! Whatever his reason for coming after Rahvin, he should never have let the man lead him here, where he did not know the rules, where thoughts could kill.\n\n\"Why will you not understand what I tell you? Even if they had only dreamed themselves here, either would be stronger than we. Herein the flesh, they could crush us without blinking. In the flesh they can draw saidin more deeply than we can draw saidar dreaming.\"\n\n\"We are linked.\" Still not paying attention, Nynaeve gave her braid a sharp pull. Noway to tell which direction they had gone. And no warning of anything until she saw them. Somehow it still seemed unfair that they could channel without her being able to see or feel the flows. A standlamp that had been sliced in two was suddenly whole again, then not, just as quickly. That white fire must be incredibly powerful. Tel'aran'rhiod usually healed itself rapidly whatever you did to it.\n\n\"You brainless fool,\" Moghedien sobbed, shaking Nynaeve's skirt with both hands as if wanting to shake Nynaeve. \"It does not matter how brave you are. We are linked, but you contribute nothing the way you are. Not a shred. It is my strength, and your madness. They are herein the flesh, not dreaming! They are using things you have never dreamed of! They will destroy us if we stay!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Keep your voice down,\" Nynaeve snapped. \"Do you want to bring one of them down onus?\" She looked both ways hurriedly, but the hallway was still empty. Had that been footsteps, boots? Rand or Rahvin? One had to be approached as carefully as the other. A man in a fight for his life could strikeout before he saw they were friends. Well, that she was, anyway.\n\n\"We must go,\" Moghedien insisted, but she did lower her voice. She got to her feet, sullen defiance twisting her mouth. Fear and anger writhed inside her, first one stronger, then the other. \"Why should I help you any further? This is madness!\"\n\n\"Would you rather feel the nettles again?\"\n\nMoghedien flinched, yet her dark eyes remained stubborn. \"You think I will let them kill me rather than be hurt by you? You are mad. I will not stir from this spot until you are ready to take us away from here.\"\n\nNynaeve jerked her braid again. If Moghedien refused to walk, she would have to drag her. Not a very quick way to search, with what seemed miles of palace corridors yet to go. She should have been harsher when the woman first tried balking. In Nynaeve's place, Moghedien would have killed without hesitation, or, if she thought the other useful, woven the trick of taking someone's will, making them worship her... Nynaeve had tasted that once, in Tanchico, and even had she known how it was done, she did not think she could do it to somebody else. She despised this woman, hated her with all her being. But even if she had not needed her, she could not have killed her just standing there. The trouble was, she was afraid that Moghedien knew that too, now." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Still, a Wisdom headed the Women's Circle-even if the Circle did not always agree-and the Women's Circle dealt out punishments to women who broke the law or offended custom too deeply, and to men, too, for some transgressions. She might not have Moghedien's stomach for killing, for crushing people's minds, but...\n\nMoghedien opened her mouth, and Nynaeve filled it with a gag of Air. Or rather she made Moghedien do it; with the a'dam linking them, it was like channeling herself, but Moghedien knew it washer own abilities being used like a tool in Nynaeve's hand. Dark eyes glittered indignantly as Moghedien's own flows snared her arms to her sides and pulled her skirts tight around her ankles. For the rest, Nynaeve used the a'dam, just as with the nettles, creating the sensations she wanted the other woman to feel. Not the reality; the feel of reality.\n\nMoghedien stiffened in her bonds as a leather strap seemed to strike her bottom. That was what it would feel like to her. Outrage and humiliation rolled through the leash. And contempt. Compared to her elaborate ways of hurting people, this seemed suitable fora child.\n\n\"When you are ready to cooperate again,\" Nynaeve said, \"just nod.\" This could not take long. She could not just stand there while Rand and Rahvin tried to kill one another. If the wrong one died because she avoided danger by letting Moghedien keep her there...\n\nNynaeve remembered a day when she was sixteen, just after she had been judged old enough to put her hair in a braid. She had stolen a plum pudding from Corin Ayellin on a dare from Nela Thane and walked out the kitchen door right into Mistress Ayellin. Adding the aftermath, sending it along the leash in a lump, made Moghedien's eyes pop." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Grimly, Nynaeve did it again. She won't stop me short! Again. I will help Rand whatever she thinks! Again. Even if it kills us! Again. Oh, Light, she could be right; Rand could kill us both before he knows it's me. Again. Light, I hate being afraid! Again. I hate her! Again. I hate her! Again.\n\nAbruptly she realized Moghedien was jerking frantically in her bonds, nodding her head so violently it seemed about to come off. Fora moment, Nynaeve gaped at the other woman's tearstreaked face, then stopped what she was doing and hurriedly unraveled the flows of Air. Light, what had she done? She was not Moghedien. \"I take it you won't give meany more trouble?\"\n\n\"They will kill us,\" the other woman mumbled faintly, and nearly unintelligibly through her sobs, but at the same time she nodded a hurried acquiescence.\n\nDeliberately, Nynaeve hardened herself. Moghedien deserved everything she had gotten and much, much more. In the Tower, one of the Forsaken would have been stilled and executed as soon as the trial could be concluded, and little evidence needed beside who she was. \"Good. Now we-\"\n\nThunder shook the entire palace, or something very much like thunder, except that the walls rattled and dust rose off the floor. Nynaeve half fell into Moghedien, and they danced trying to keep their feet. Before the upheaval had faded completely, it was replaced by a roar like some monstrous fire racing up a chimney the size of a mountain. That lasted only a moment. The silence after seemed deeper than before. No. There were boots. A man running. The sound echoed down the hallway. From the north." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Nynaeve pushed the other woman away." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Come on.\"\n\nMoghedien whimpered, but did not resist being pulled down the hall. Her eyes were huge, though, and her breath came too fast. Nynaeve thought it was a good thing she had Moghedien along, and not just for access to the One Power. After all her years hiding in shadows, the Spider was such a coward she almost made Nynaeve feel brave by comparison. Almost. It was only anger at her own fear that made her able to hold onto that one flow of Spirit that kept her in Tel'aran'rhiod, now. Moghedien was stark terror to her bones.\n\nPulling Moghedien behind her by the gleaming leash, Nynaeve quickened her step. Chasing the fading sound of those other steps.\n\nRand stepped into the round courtyard warily. Half of the whitepaved circle cut into the structure rising three stories behind him; the other half was bounded by a stone semicircle atop pale columns five paces high, sticking out into yet another garden, shaded gravel walks beneath low spreading trees. Marble benches surrounded a pool with lilypads. And fish, gold and white and red.\n\nSuddenly the benches shifted, flowed, changed into faceless manshapes, still as white and hardlooking as the stone. He had already learned the difficulty of changing something that Rahvin had altered. Lightning danced from his fingertips, shattering stone men to shards.\n\nThe air became water. Choking, Rand struggled to swim toward the columns; he could seethe garden beyond. There must be some kind of barrier to stop all the water pouring out. Before he could channel, gold and red and white shapes were darting around him, larger than the fish in the pool had been. And with teeth. They ripped at him; blood curled up in red mist. Instinctively he flailed at the fish with his hands, but the cold part of him, deep in the Void, channeled. Balefire flared, at the barrier if there was one, at anyplace Rahvin might be to see this courtyard. The water roiled, throwing him around violently, as it rushed into fill the empty tunnels carved by balefire. Flickers of gold and white and red darted at him, adding new threads of crimson to the water. Tossed about, he could not see to aim his wild bolts; they flashed in every direction. No breath left. He tried to think of air, or the water being air." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Suddenly it was. He dropped hard to the paving stones among small fish flopping about, rolled over and pushed himself up. It was all air again; even his clothes were dry. The stone ring flickered between standing untouched and lying in ruins with half the columns down. Some of the trees lay tangled atop their own stumps, then stood whole, then were fallen again. The palace behind him had holes punched in whitewalls, even one through a high gilded dome above, and gashes slashed across windows, some with piercework stone screens. The damage all flickered, vanishing and reappearing. Not the slow, sometime shifts of before, but constant. Damage, then none, then some, then none, then all again.\n\nWincing, he pressed his hand to his side, to the old, halfhealed wound. It stung as if his exertions had nearly torn it open. He stung allover, from a dozen or more bleeding bites. That had not changed. The bloody rips in his coat and breeches were still there! Had he managed to change the water back to air? Or had one of his frenzied bolts of balefire driven Rahvin off, or even killed him? It did not matter, unless it was the last.\n\nWiping blood out of his eyes, he studied the windows and balconies around the garden, the colonnade high on the far side. Or rather, he started to, but something else caught his eye. Below the colonnade, he could just make out the fading remnants of a weave. From there he could tell it was a gateway, but to see what kind and where it led, he had to be closer. Leaping over a jumble of worked stone that vanished while he was above it, he darted across the garden, dodging around trees fallen on the walkway. That residue was almost gone; he had to get close enough before it vanished completely." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Abruptly he fell, gravel scraping his palms as he caught himself. He could not see anything that might have tripped him. He felt woozy, almost as if he had been hit on the head. He tried to scramble to his feet, to reach that residue. And realized his body was writhing. Longhair covered his hands; his fingers seemed to be shrinking, drawing back into his hands. They were almost paws. A trap. Rahvin had not fled. The gateway had been a trap, and he had walked into it.\n\nDesperation clung to the Void as he struggled to cling to himself. His hands. They were hands. Almost hands. He forced himself up. His legs seemed to bend wrong. The True Source receded; the Void shrank. Streaks of panic flared beyond the emotionless emptiness. Whatever Rahvin was trying to change him to, it could not channel. Saidin slipping away, thinning, thin even pulled through the angreal. The surrounding balconies stared down at him, empty, and the colonnade. Rahvin had to beat one of those stonescreened windows, but which? He had no strength fora hundred lightning bolts this time. One burst. He could manage that. If he did it quickly. Which window? He fought to be himself, fought to draw saidin into him, welcomed every stain of the taint as evidence that he still held the Power. Staggering in a crooked circle, searching vainly, he roared Rahvin's name. It sounded like a beast's roar.\n\nPulling Moghedien behind her, Nynaeve rounded the corner. Ahead of her, a man vanished around the next turning, the sound of his boots echoing behind. She did not know how long she had been following those boots. Sometimes they had gone silent, and she had had to wait for them to start again to gain a direction. Sometimes when they stopped things happened; she had not seen any of it, but once the palace had rung like a struck bell, and another time the hair on her head had tried to stand up as the air seemed to crackle, and another... It did not matter. This was the first time she had caught a glimpse of the man who wore those boots. She did not think it was Rand in that black coat. The height was right, but he was too large, too heavy in the chest." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She was running before she knew it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her stout shoes had long since become velvet slippers for silence. If she could hear him, he could hear her. Moghedien's frenzied panting was louder than their footfalls.\n\nNynaeve reached the turn and stopped, peeking cautiously around the corner. She held saidar-through Moghedien, but it washers-ready to channel. There was no need. The hallway was empty. A door stood far down a wall with windows filled with arabesquepierced stone, but she did not think he could have reached that. Nearer, another corridor ran off to the right. She hurried to that, looked warily again. Empty. But a staircase spiraled upward just beyond where the hallways met.\n\nFora moment she hesitated. He had been hurrying somewhere. This corridor led back the way they had come. Would he have been running to go back? Up then.\n\nDrawing Moghedien behind her, she climbed the steps slowly, straining to hear anything except the Forsaken's nearly hysterical breath and the blood pounding in her own ears. If she found herself face to face with him... She knew he was there already, somewhere ahead. Surprise had to be on her side.\n\nAt the first landing, she paused. The hallways here mirrored those below. They were just as empty, too, just as silent. Had he gone on up?\n\nThe stair quivered faintly beneath her feet as if the palace had been struck by a huge battering ram, then another. Again, as a bar of white fire punched through the top of one of the stonescreened windows, skewed wildly upward at an angle, then winked out as it started to slice into the ceiling.\n\nNynaeve swallowed, blinking in a vain effort to rid herself of the pale violet fan that hung across her vision in memory of the thing. That had to be Rand, trying to strike at Rahvin. If she was too close to him, Rand might catch her by accident. If he was flailing like that-it had had the look of flailing to her-he could catch her anywhere without knowing it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The quivers had ceased. Moghedien's eyes shone with terror. By what Nynaeve felt through the a'dam, it was a wonder the woman was not writhing on the floor, shrieking and frothing at the mouth. Nynaeve felt a little like shrieking herself. She made herself put her foot on the next step. Up was as good away as any. The second step was almost as hard. Slowly, though. No need to come on him too suddenly. Surprise had to be on his part. Moghedien followed like a whipped dog, shivering.\n\nAs Nynaeve climbed, she embraced saidar as fully as she could, as much as Moghedien could handle, to the point where the sweetness of it became almost a pain. That was the warning. More, and she would approach the point where it was more than she could take in, the point where she would still herself, burn the ability to channel right out of herself. Or perhaps out of Moghedien, under the circumstances. Or both of them. Anyway at all, it would be disaster now. She held that point though, the... life... filling her a needle's light pressure just short of breaking skin. It was as much as she could have embraced had shebeen channeling on her own. She and Moghedien were much the same strength in the Power; Tanchico had proved that. Was it enough? Moghedien insisted the men were stronger. Rahvin, at least-Moghedien knew him-and it did not seem likely Rand could have survived this long unless he was just as strong. It was not fair that men should have the muscles and greater strength in the Power too. The Aes Sedai in the Tower had always said they had been equal. It just was not-\n\nShe was babbling. Taking a deep breath, she drew Moghedien behind her off the staircase. This was as high as it went." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This hall was empty. She went to where it met the crossing corridor, peeked. And there he was. A tall blackclad man, large, with wings of white in his dark hair, peering through the curving slots of one of the stone windowscreens at something below. There was sweat and effort on his face, but he seemed to be smiling. A handsome face, as handsome as Galad's, but she felt no quickening of her breath for this one.\n\nWhatever he was staring at-Rand perhaps?-had his full attention, but Nynaeve gave him no chance to notice her. It might be Rand down there. She could not tell whether Rahvin was channeling or not. She filled the corridor around him with fire from wall to wall, floor to ceiling, pouring into it all of saidar she held, fire so hot the stone itself smoked. The heat made her flinch back.\n\nRahvin screamed in the middle of the flame-it was one flame-and staggered away from her, back to where the hallway became a columned walk. A heartbeat, less, while she still flinched, and he stood, inside the flame but surrounded by clear air. Every scrap of saidar she could channel was going into that inferno, but he held it at bay. She could see him through the fire; it gave everything a red cast, but she could see. Smoke rose from his charred coat. His face was a seared ruin, one eye milky white. But both eyes were malevolent as he turned them on her.\n\nNo emotion reached her along the a'dam's leash, only leaden dullness. Nynaeve's stomach fluttered. Moghedien had given up. Given up because death was therefor them.\n\nFire thrust through the carved windowscreens above Rand, fingers of it filling every hole, dancing toward the colonnade. As it did, the struggle within him ceased abruptly. He was himself so suddenly it was almost a shock. He had been drawing desperately at saidin, trying to hold onto some of it. Now it rushed into him, an avalanche of fire and ice that made his knees buckle, made the Void tremble with pain that shaved at it like a lathe." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And Rahvin stumbled backwards out onto the colonnade, face turned to something inside. Rahvin wreathed in fire, yet somehow standing as though untouched. If untouched now, it had not been so before. Only the size of the figure, the impossibility of it being anyone else, told Rand it was him. The Forsaken was a figure of char and cracked red flesh that would have strained any Healer to mend. The agony of it must have been overwhelming. Except that Rahvin would be inside the Void within that burned remnant of a man, wrapped in emptiness where the body's pain was distant and saidin close at hand.\n\nSaidin raged inside Rand, and he loosed it all. Not to Heal.\n\n\"Rahvin!\" he screamed, and balefire flew from his hands, molten light thicker than a man, driven by all the Power he could draw.\n\nIt struck the Forsaken, and Rahvin ceased to exist. The Darkhounds in Rhuidean had become motes before they vanished, whatever kind of life they had had struggling to continue, or the Pattern struggling to maintain itself even for them. Before this, Rahvin simply... ceased.\n\nRand let the balefire die, pushed saidin away a little. Trying to blink away the purple afterimage, he stared up at the wide hole in the marble balustrade, the remains of one column a fang above it, stared at the matching hole in the palace roofs They did not flicker, as if what he had done was too strong even for this place to mend. After everything, it seemed almost too easy. Perhaps there was something up thereto convince him Rahvin was really dead. He ran toward a door.\n\nFrantically, Nynaeve threw everything into trying to close the flame tight around Rahvin once more. The thought came that she should have used lightning. She was going to die. Those horrible eyes had fixed on Moghedien, not her, but she was going to die too." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Liquid fire sliced up into the colonnade, so hot it made the fire she had made seem cool. Shock made her release her weaving, and she flung up a hand to protect her face, yet before it had raised halfway, the liquid fire was gone. So was Rahvin. She did not believe he had escaped. There had been an instant, so brief she could almost have imagined it, when that white bar touched him and he became... mist. Just an instant. She could have imagined. But she did not believe so. She drew a shuddering breath.\n\nMoghedien had her face in her hands, weeping, trembling. The one emotion Nynaeve sensed through the a'dam was relief so powerful it drowned anything else.\n\nHurried boots grated on the stairs below.\n\nNynaeve spun, took a step toward the spiral staircase. She was surprised to realize she was drinking deeply of saidar, holding herself ready.\n\nThat surprise faded when Rand climbed into sight. He was not as she remembered. His features were the same, but his face was hard. Blue ice made his eyes. The bloody rips in his coat and breeches, the blood on his face, seemed to suit that face.\n\nThe way he looked, she would not be surprised if he killed Moghedien on the spot the instant he discovered who she was. Nynaeve had uses for her yet. He would recognize an a'dam. Without another thought she changed it, let the leash vanish, leaving only the silver bracelet on her wrist and the collar on Moghedien. A moment of panic when she comprehended what she had done, then a sigh as she realized that she still felt the other woman. It worked exactly as Elayne had said it would. Perhaps he had not seen. She was between him and Moghedien; the leash had trailed behind her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He barely glanced at Moghedien. \"I thought about those flames, coming up here. I thought it might have been you or... Where is this? Is this where you meet Egwene?\"\n\nLooking up at him, Nynaeve tried not to swallow. So cold, that face. \"Rand, the Wise Ones say what you've done, what you are doing, is dangerous, even evil. They say you lose something of yourself if you come herein the flesh, some part of what makes you human.\"\n\n\"Do the Wise Ones know everything?\" He brushed past her and stood staring at the colonnade. \"I used to think Aes Sedai knew everything. It doesn't matter. I don't know how human the Dragon Reborn can afford to be.\"\n\n\"Rand, I...\" She did not know what to say. \"Here, let me Heal you at least.\"\n\nHe held still for her to reach up and take his head in her hands. For her part, she had to suppress a wince. His fresh wounds were not serious, only numerous-what could have bitten him; she was sure most of these were bites-but the old wound, that halfhealed, neverhealing wound in his side, that was a sinkhole of darkness, a well filled with what she thought the taint of saidin must be like. She channeled the complex flows, Air and Water, Spirit, even Fire and Earth in small amounts, that made up Healing. He did not roar and flail about. He did not even blink. He shivered. That was all. Then he took her wrists and brought her hands down from his face. She was not reluctant. His new injuries were gone, every bite and scrape and bruise, but not the old wound. Nothing had changed about that. Anything short of death should be capable of being Healed, even that. Anything!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Is he dead?\" he asked quietly. \"Did you see him die?\"\n\n\"He's dead, Rand. I saw.\"\n\nHe nodded. \"But there are others still, aren't there? Other... Chosen.\"\n\nNynaeve felt a stabbing sliver of fear from Moghedien, but she did not glance back. \"Rand, you must go. Rahvin is dead, and this place is dangerous for you as you are. You must go, and not comeback herein the body.\"\n\n\"I will go.\"\n\nHe did nothing that she could see or feel-of course, she could not-but fora moment she thought the hallway behind him had... turned in someway. But it did not look any different. Except... She blinked. There was no halfgone column in the colonnade beyond him, no hole in the stone railing.\n\nHe went on as if nothing had happened. \"Tell Elayne... Ask her not to hate me. Ask her...\" Pain twisted his face. Fora moment she saw the boy she had known, looking as though something precious was being ripped away from him. She reached out to comfort him, and he stepped back, his face stone again, and bleak. \"Lan was right. Tell Elayne to forget me, Nynaeve. Tell her I've found something else to love, and there's no room left for her. He wanted me to tell you the same thing. Lan has found someone else, too. He said for you to forget him. Better never to have been born than to love us.\" He stepped back again, three long steps, the hall seemed to turn dizzyingly with him in it-or part of the hall did-and he was gone.\n\nNynaeve stared at where he had been, and not at the fitfully flickering reappearance of the damage to the colonnade. Lan had told him to say that?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A... remarkable man,\" Moghedien said softly. \"Avery, very dangerous man.\"\n\nNynaeve stared at her. Something new was coming through the bracelet to her. Fear was still there, but muted by... Expectation might have been the best way to describe it.\n\n\"I have been helpful, have I not?\" Moghedien said. \"Rahvin dead, Rand al'Thor saved. None of it would have been possible without me.\"\n\nNynaeve understood now. Hope more than expectation. Sooner or later Nynaeve would have to wake. The a'dam would vanish. Moghedien was trying to remind her of her aid-as if it had not had to be wrenched out of her-just in case Nynaeve might be steeling herself to kill before she went. \"It is time for me to go, too,\" Nynaeve said. Moghedien's face did not alter, but fear strengthened and so did hope. A large silver cup appeared in Nynaeve's hand, apparently filled with tea. \"Drink this.\"\n\nMoghedien edged back. \"What-?\"\n\n\"Not poison. I could kill you easily enough without, if that was my aim. After all, what happens to you here is real in the waking world, too.\" Hope much stronger than fear now. \"It will make you sleep. A deep sleep; too deep to touch Tel'aran'rhiod. It's called forkroot.\"\n\nMoghedien took the cup slowly. \"So I cannot follow you? I will not argue.\" She tipped back her head and swallowed until the cup was empty.\n\nNynaeve watched her. That much should put her down quickly. Yet a cruel streak made her speak. She knew it was cruel and did not care. Moghedien should not have any quiet rest at all. \"You knew Birgitte was not dead.\" Moghedien's gaze narrowed slightly. \"You knew who Faolain is.\" The other woman's eyes tried to widen, but she was already drowsy. Nynaeve could feel the forkroot's effects spreading. She concentrated on Moghedien, held therein Tel'aran'rhiod. No easy sleep for one of the Forsaken. \"And you knew who Siuan is, that she used to be the Amyrlin Seat. I've never mentioned that in Tel'aran'rhiod. Never. I'll see you very shortly. In Salidar.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Moghedien's eyes rolled up her head. Nynaeve was not sure whether it was the forkroot or a faint, but it did not matter. She released the other woman, and Moghedien winked out. The silver collar rang as it hit the floortiles. Elayne would be happy about that, at least.\n\nNynaeve stepped out of the Dream.\n\nRand trotted along the corridors of the palace. There seemed to be less damage than he remembered, but he did not really look. He strode out into the great courtyard at the front of the palace. Blasts of Air knocked the tall gates half off their hinges. Beyond lay a huge oval plaza, and what he had been searching for. Trollocs and Myrddraal. Rahvin was dead, and the other Forsaken were elsewhere, but there were Trollocs and Myrddraal to kill in Caemlyn.\n\nThey were fighting, a milling mass of hundreds, perhaps thousands, surrounding something he could not see through their blackmailed numbers, as tall as a Myrddraal on its horse. Just barely he could make out his crimson banner deep in their midst. Some swung round to face the palace as the gates were hurled asunder.\n\nYet Rand stopped dead. Balls of fire rolled through the packed blackmailed mass, and burning Trollocs lay everywhere. It could not be.\n\nNot daring to hope or think, he channeled. Shafts of balefire leaped from his hands as fast as he could weave them, narrower than his little finger, precise and cutoff as soon as they struck. They, were much less powerful than the one he had used against Rahvin at the end, than any he had used against Rahvin, but he could not risk one slicing through to those trapped in the center of all those Trollocs. It made little difference. The firststruck Myrddraal seemed to reverse colors, become a whiteclad black shape, then it was drifting motes that vanished as its horse fled madly. Trollocs, Myrddraal, everyone that turned toward him went the same, and then he began carving into the backs of those still facing the other way, so a continuous haze of sparkling dust seemed to fill the air, renewed as it evaporated." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "In your role as the author's collaborator, continue the tale.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, war\nAuthor: Robert Jordan\nTitle: The Fires of Heaven\nChapter: 54" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The moon through the windows at the ends of the corridor gave the only light; Asmodean's lamp was out. The flows he had woven around the room were still in place, still firmly tied. Nothing moved, but there was still a faint smell of burned sulphur.\n\nMoving close to the bead curtain, he peered through the doorway. Moonshadows filled the room, but one of them was Asmodean, tossing in his blankets. Wrapped in the Void, Rand could hear his heartbeat, smell the sweat of troubled dreams. He bent to examine the pale blue floor tiles, and the prints impressed in them.\n\nHe had learned to track as a boy, and reading them was no difficulty. Three or four Darkhounds had been there. They had approached the doorway one by one, it seemed, each stepping almost in the others' footprints. Had the net woven around the room stopped them there? Or had they merely been sent to look, and report? Troubling, to think of even Shadowspawn dogs having that much intelligence. But then, Myrddraal used ravens and rats for spies, too, and other animals closely linked to death. Shadoweyes, the Aiel called them.\n\nChanneling fine flows of Earth, he smoothed out the floor tiles, lifting up the compressions until he was out in the empty, nightcloaked street and a hundred paces from the tall building. In the morning, anyone would be able to seethe trail ending there, but none would suspect that the Darkhounds had gone anywhere near Asmodean. Darkhounds could have no interest in Jasin Natael the gleeman.\n\nEvery Maiden in the city was likely awake by this time; certainly none would still be asleep under the Roof of the Maidens. Making another gateway therein the street, a deeper blackness against the night, he let the disc carry him back to his own room. He wondered why he had chosen the ancient symbol-it was his choice, if unconscious; other times it had been a stairstep Ora piece of floor. The Darkhounds had oozed away from that sign before reforming. Under this sign will he conquer." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Standing in his pitchblack bedchamber, he channeled the lamps alight, but he did not let goof saidin. Instead he channeled again, careful not to spring any of his own traps, and apiece of the wall vanished, revealing a niche he had carved there himself.\n\nIn the little alcove stood two figurines afoot tall, a man and a woman, each in flowing robes and serene of face, each holding a crystal globe aloft in one hand. He had lied to Asmodean about them.\n\nThere were angreal, like the round little man in Rand's coat pocket, and sa'angreal, like Callandor, that increased the amount of the Power that could be safely handled as much over angreal as angreal did over channeling unaided. Both were very rare, and prized by Aes Sedai, though they could only recognize those attuned to women and saidar. These two figures were something else, not so rare, but just as highly valued. Ter'angreal had been made to use the Power not magnify it, but to use it in specific ways. The Aes Sedai did not know the intended purpose even of most ter'angreal they had in the White Tower; some they used, but without knowing whether the use they put them to was anything like the function they had been made for. Rand knew the function of these two.\n\nThe male figure could link him to a huge replica of itself, the most powerful male sa'angreal ever made, even if he were on the other side of the Aryth Ocean from it. It had only been finished after the Dark One's prison was resealed-How do I know that?-and hidden before any of the male Aes Sedai going mad could find it. The female figure could do the same fora woman, joining her to the female equivalent of the great statue he hoped was still almost completely buried in Cairhien. With that much power... Moiraine had said death could not be Healed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Unbidden, unwanted, memory returned of the nexttolast time he had dared let himself hold Callandor, images floating beyond the Void.\n\nThe body of the darkhaired girl, little more than a child, lay sprawled with eyes wide and fixed on the ceiling, blood blackening the bosom of her dress where a Trolloc had run her through.\n\nThe Power was in him. Callandor blazed, and he was the Power. He channeled, directing flows into the child's body, searching, trying, fumbling; she lurched to her feet, arms and legs unnaturally rigid and jerky.\n\n\"Rand, you cannot do this,\" Moiraine cried. \"Not this!\"\n\nBreathe. She had to breathe. The girl's chest rose and fell. Heart. Had to beat. Blood already thick and dark oozed from the wound in her chest. Live, burn you! his mind howled. I didn't mean to be too late! Her eyes stared at him, filmed, heedless of all the Power in him. Lifeless. Tears trickled unheeded down his cheeks.\n\nHe forced the memory away roughly; even encased in the Void, it hurt. With this much Power... With this much Power, he could not be trusted. \"You are not the Creator,\" Moiraine had told him as he stood over that child. But with that male figure, with only half of its power, he had made the mountains move, once. With far less, with only Callandor, he had been sure he could turn back the Wheel, make a dead child live. Not only the One Power was seductive; the power of it was, too. He should destroy them both. Instead he rewove the flows, reset the traps." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What are you doing there?\" a woman's voice said as the wall became apparently whole again.\n\nTying off the flows hastily-and the knot with its own deadly surprises-he pulled the Power into him and turned.\n\nBeside Lanfear, in her white and silver, Elayne or Minor Aviendha would look almost ordinary. Her dark eyes alone were enough to make a man give up his soul. At the sight of her, his stomach clenched until he wanted to vomit.\n\n\"What do you want?\" he demanded. Once he had blocked Egwene and Elayne both from the True Source, but he could not remember how. So long as Lanfear could touch the Source, he had more chance of catching the wind in his hands than of holding her prisoner. One flash of balefire, and... He could not do it. She was one of the Forsaken, but the memory of a woman's head rolling on the ground stopped him dead.\n\n\"You have two of them,\" she said finally. \"I thought I glimpsed... One is a woman, isn't it?\" Her smile could have halted a man's heart and made him grateful. \"You are beginning to consider my plan, aren't you? With those, together, the other Chosen will kneel at our feet. We can supplant the Great Lord himself, challenge the Creator. We-\"\n\n\"You were always ambitious, Mierin.\" His voice grated in his ears. \"Why do you think I turned away from you? It wasn't Ilyena, whatever you like to think. You were out of my heart long before ever I met her. Ambition is all there is to you. Power is all you ever wanted. You disgust me!\"\n\nShe stared at him, both hands pressed hard against her stomach, her dark eyes even larger than usual. \"Graendal said...\" she began faintly. Swallowing, she began again. \"Lews Therin? I love you, Lews Therin. I have always loved you, and I always will. You know that. You must!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand's face was like rock; he hoped it hid his shock. He had no idea where his words had come from, but it seemed he could remember her. A dim memory, from before. I am not Lews Therin Telamon! \"I am Rand al'Thor!\" he said harshly.\n\n\"Of course you are.\" Studying him, she nodded slowly to herself. That cool composure returned. \"Of course. Asmodean has been telling you things, about the War of Power, and me. He lies. You did love me. Until that yellowhaired trollop Ilyena stole you.\" For an instant, rage made her face a contorted mask; he did not think she was even aware of it. \"Did you know that Asmodean severed his own mother? What they call stilling, now. Severed her, and let Myrddraal drag her away screaming. Can you trust a manlike that?\"\n\nRand laughed aloud. \"After I caught him, you helped trap him so he had to teach me. And now you say I cannot trust him?\"\n\n\"For teaching.\" She sniffed dismissively. \"He will do that because he knows his lot is cast with you for good. Even if he managed to convince the others that he has been a prisoner, they would still tear him apart, and he knows it. The weakest dog in the pack often suffers that fate. Besides, I watch his dreams on occasion. He dreams of you triumphing over the Great Lord and putting him up beside you on high. Sometimes he dreams of me.\" Her smile said those dreams were pleasant for her, but not so for Asmodean. \"But he will try to turn you against me.\"\n\n\"Why are you here?\" he demanded. Turn against her? No doubt she was full of the Power right that moment, ready to shield him if she even suspected he meant to try anything. She had done it before, with humiliating ease." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I like you like this. Arrogant and proud, full of your own strength.\"\n\nOnce she had said that she liked him unsure, that Lews Therin had been too arrogant. \"Why are you here?\"\n\n\"Rahvin sent the Darkhounds after you tonight,\" she said calmly, folding her hands at her waist. \"I would have come sooner, to help you, but I cannot let the others know I am on your side yet.\"\n\nOn his side. One of the Forsaken loved him, or rather the man he had been three thousand years ago, and all she wanted was for him to give his soul to the Shadow and rule the world with her. Ora step below her, at least. That, and try to replace both the Dark One and the Creator. Was she completely mad? Or could the power of those two huge sa'angreal really be as great as she claimed? That was a direction he did not want his thoughts to take.\n\n\"Why would Rahvin choose now to attack me? Asmodean says he looks to his own interests, that he'll sit to one side even in the Last Battle, if he can, and wait for the Dark One to destroy me. Why not Sammael, or Demandred? Asmodean says they hate me.\" Not me. They hate Lews Therin. But to the Forsaken, that was the same thing. Please, Light, I am Rand al'Thor. He pushed away a sudden memory of this woman in his arms, both of them young and just learning what they could do with the Power. I am Rand al'Thor! \"Why not Semirhage, or Moghedien, or Graen-?\"\n\n\"But you are impinging on his interests now.\" She laughed. \"Don't you know where he is? In Andor, in Caemlyn itself. He rules therein all but name. Morgase simpers and dances for him, her and half a dozen others.\" Her lip curled in disgust. \"He has men scouring town and countryside to find new pretties for him.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fora moment shock held him. Elayne's mother in the hands of one of the Forsaken. Yet he dared not show concern. Lanfear had displayed her jealousy more than once; she was capable of hunting Elayne down and killing her, if she even thought he had feelings for her. What do I feel for her? Aside from that, one hard fact floated beyond the Void, cold and cruel in its truth. He would not runoff to attack Rahvin even if what Lanfear said was true. Forgive me, Elayne, but I can't. She might well belying-she would weep no tears for any of the other Forsaken he killed; they all stood in the way of her own plans-but in any event, he was done with reacting to what others did. If he reacted, they could reason out what he would do. Let them react to him, and be as surprised as Lanfear and Asmodean had been.\n\n\"Does Rahvin think I'll rush to defend Morgase?\" he said. \"I have seen her once in my life. The Two Rivers is part of Andor on a map, but I never saw a Queen's Guardsman there. No one has in generations. Tell a Two Rivers man Morgase is his queen, and he'll probably think you're crazy.\"\n\n\"I doubt Rahvin expects you to run to defend your homeland,\" Lanfear said wryly, \"but he will expect you to defend your ambitions. He means to sit Morgase on the Sun Throne, too, and use her like a puppet until the time he can come into the open. More Andoran soldiers move into Cairhien everyday. And you sent Tairen soldiers north, to secure your own hold on the land. No wonder that he attacked you as soon as he found you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Rand shook his head." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It had not been that way at all, sending the Tairens, but he did not expect her to understand. Or believe him if he told her, for that matter. \"I thank you for the warning.\" Politeness to one of the Forsaken! Of course, there was nothing he could do except hope that some of what she told him was truth. A good reason not to kill her. She'll tell you more than she thinks, if you listen carefully. He hoped that was his own thought, chill and cynical as it was.\n\n\"You ward your dreams against me.\"\n\n\"Against everyone.\" That was simple truth, though she was at least as prominent in the list as the Wise Ones.\n\n\"Dreams are mine. You and your dreams are mine especially.\" Her face remained smooth, but her voice hardened. \"I can breakthrough your warding. You would not like it.\"\n\nTo show his unconcern, he sat down on the foot of his pallet, legs folded and hands on his knees. He thought his face was as calm as hers. Inside him, the Power swelled. He had flows of Air ready to bind her, and flows of Spirit. That was what wove a shield against the True Source. The racking of his brain for the how of it seemed far off, but he could not remember anyway. Without that, the other was useless. She could pick apart or slice through anything he wove, even if she could not see it. Asmodean was trying to teach him that trick, but it was hard going without a woman's weaving to practice on.\n\nLanfear eyed him in a disconcerted fashion, a slight frown marring her beauty. \"I have examined the Aiel women's dreams. These socalled Wise Ones. They do not know how to shield themselves very well. I could frighten them till they never dream again, never even think of invading yours surely.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I thought you would not help me openly.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He did not dare tell her to leave the Wise Ones alone; she might well do something to spite him. She had made it plain from the start, if not in words, that she meant to have the upper hand between them. \"Wouldn't that risk another of the Forsaken finding out? You aren't the only one who knows how to enter people's dreams.\"\n\n\"The Chosen,\" she said absently. Fora moment she chewed a full underlip. \"I have watched the girl's dreams, too. Egwene. Once I thought you had feelings for her. Do you know who she dreams of? Morgase's son and stepson. The son, Gawyn, most often.\" Smiling, she put on atone of mock shock. \"You would not believe a simple country girl could have such dreams.\"\n\nShe was trying to test his jealousy, he realized. She really thought he warded his dreams to hide thoughts of another woman! \"The Maidens guard me closely,\" he said dryly. \"If you want to know how close, look at Isendre's dreams.\"\n\nSpots of color flared in her cheeks. Of course. He was not supposed to see what she was trying. Confusion rolled outside the Void. Or did she think...?\n\nIsendre? Lanfear knew she was a Darkfriend. Lanfear had brought Kadere and the woman to the Waste in the first place. And planted most of the jewelry Isendre was accused of stealing; Lanfear's spite was cruel even when petty. Still, if she thought he could love her, Isendre being a Darkfriend was probably no obstacle in her eyes.\n\n\"I should have let them send her off to try reaching the Dragonwall,\" he went on casually, \"but who knows what she might have said to save herself? I must protect her and Kadere to some extent in order to protect Asmodean.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The color faded, but as she opened her mouth again, a knock came at the door." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand bounded to his feet. No one would recognize Lanfear, yet if a woman were discovered in his room, a woman whom none of the Maidens below had seen enter, questions would be asked and he had no answers.\n\nBut Lanfear already had a gateway open, to somewhere full of white silk hangings and silver. \"Remember that I am your only hope of surviving, my love.\" It was a very cool voice in which to call someone that. \"Beside me, you need fear nothing. Beside me, you can rule everything that is or will be.\" Lifting her snowy skirts, she stepped through, and the gateway winked shut.\n\nThe knock sounded again before he could make himself push away saidin and haul open the door.\n\nEnaila peered past him suspiciously, muttering, \"I thought perhaps Isendre...\" She gave him an accusing look. \"Spearsisters are searching everywhere for you. No one saw you return.\" With a shake of her head, she straightened; she always tried to stand as tall as possible. \"The chiefs have come to speak with the Car'a\"carn,\" she said formally. \"They wait below.\"\n\nThey waited on the columned portico, as it turned out, being men. The sky was still dark, but the first glimmers of dawn lined the mountains to the east. If they felt any impatience with the two Maidens who stood between them and the tall doors, it did not show on their shadowed faces.\n\n\"The Shaido are moving,\" Han barked as soon as Rand appeared. \"And the Reyn, the Miagoma, the Shiande... Every clan!\"\n\n\"Joining Couladin, or me?\" Rand demanded.\n\n\"The Shaido are moving toward the Jangai Pass,\" Rhuarc said. \"For the others, it is too early to tell. But they are on the march with every spear not needed to defend the holds, herds and flocks.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand only nodded. All of his determination not to let anyone else dictate what he would do, and now this. Whatever the other clans intended, Couladin had to plan a crossing into Cairhien. So much for his grand schemes of imposing peace, if the Shaido ravaged Cairhien even further while he satin Rhuidean waiting for the other clans.\n\n\"Then we move for the Jangai, too,\" he said finally.\n\n\"We cannot catch him if he means to cross,\" Erim cautioned, and Han added sourly, \"If any of the others are joining him, we will be caught strung out like blindworms in the sun.\"\n\n\"I won't sit here until I find out,\" Rand said. \"If I can't catch Couladin, I mean to be right behind him into Cairhien. Rouse the spears. We leave as soon after first light as you can manage.\"\n\nGiving him that odd Aiel bow used only on the most formal occasions, one foot forward and one hand extended, the chiefs departed. Only Han said anything. \"To Shayol Ghul itself.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A Departure\n\nYawning in the earlymorning grayness, Egwene pulled herself up onto her fogcolored mare, then had to handle her reins smartly as Mist frisked about. The animal had not been ridden in weeks. Aiel not only preferred their own legs, they avoided riding almost completely, though they did use packhorses and pack mules. Even if there had been enough wood to build wagons, the terrain in the Waste was not hospitable to wheels, as more than one peddler had learned to his or her sorrow.\n\nShe was not looking forward to the long journey west. The mountains hid the sun now, but the heat would grow by the hour once it climbed clear, and there would be no convenient tent to duck into at nightfall. She was not certain that Aiel garb was suitable for riding, either. The shawl, worn over her head, always did a surprisingly good job of keeping the sun off, but those bulky skirts would bare her legs to the thigh if she was not careful. Blisters worried her as much as modesty. The sun on one side, and... A month out of the saddle should not have softened her that much. She hoped it had not, or this would be a very long journey.\n\nOnce she had settled Mist down, Egwene found Amys looking at her, and shared a smile with the Wise One. All of that running the night before was not the reason she was still sleepy; if anything, it had helped her sleep even more soundly. She had found the other woman's dreams last night, and in celebration they had sipped tea in the dream, in Cold Rocks Hold, early on an evening when children were playing among the cropplanted terraces and a pleasant breeze blew down the valley as the sun sank." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Of course, that would not have been enough to steal her rest, but she had been so exultant that when she left Amys' dreams, she did not stop; she could not, not then, no matter what Amys would have said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There had been dreams all around, though with most she had no idea whose they were. With most, not all. Melaine had been dreaming of suckling a babe at her breast, and Bair of one of her dead husbands, both of them young and yellowhaired. She had been especially careful not to enter those; the Wise Ones would have known an intruder in an instant, and she shuddered to think of what they would have done before letting her go.\n\nRand's dreams had been a challenge, of course, one she could not fail to face. Now that she could flit from dream to dream, how could she not try where the Wise Ones failed? Only, attempting to enter his dreams had been like running headlong into an invisible stonewall. She knew that his dreams lay on the other side, and she was sure she could find away through, but there had been nothing to work on, nothing to pry at. A wall of nothing. It was a problem she meant to worry at until she solved it. Once she put her mind on something, she could be as persistent as a badger.\n\nAll around her gai'shain were bustling about, loading the Wise Ones\" camp onto mules. Before long, only an Aiel or someone just as skilled at tracking would be able to tell there had ever been tents on that patch of hard clay. The same activity covered the surrounding mountain slopes, and the hubbub extended into the city, as well. Not everyone would be going, but thousands would. Aiel thronged the streets, and Master Kadere's train of wagons stood strung out across the great plaza, laden with Moiraine's selections, the three whitepainted water wagons at the end of the line like huge barrels on wheels behind twentymule teams. Kadere's own wagon, at the head of the column, was a little white house on wheels, with steps at the back and a metal stovepipe sticking out of the flat roof. The thick, hawknosed merchant, all in ivorycolored silk today, swept off his incongruously battered hat as she rode past, his dark, tilted eyes not sharing in the wide smile he flashed at her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She ignored him frostily." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His dreams had been decidedly dark and unpleasant, where they were not lewd as well. He ought to have his head dunked in a cask of bluespine tea, she thought grimly.\n\nApproaching the Roof of the Maidens, she threaded her way through scurrying gai'shain and patiently standing mules. To her surprise, one of those loading the Maidens\" things wore a black robe, not white. A woman, by the size of her, and staggering under the weight of a cordtied bundle on her back. Bending as she guided Mist past, to get a look inside the woman's cowl, Egwene saw Isendre's haggard face, sweat already rolling down her cheeks. She was glad the Maidens had stopped letting the woman go outside-or sending her out-more naked than not, but it did seem needlessly cruel to robe her in black. If she was sweating so hard already, she would nearly die once the day's heat took hold.\n\nStill, Far Dareis Mai business was none of hers. Aviendha had told her so gently but firmly. Adelin and Enaila had been little short of rude about it, and a wiry, whitehaired Maiden named Sulin had actually threatened to haul her back to the Wise Ones by her ear. Despite her efforts to persuade Aviendha to stop addressing her as'Aes Sedai,\" it had been irritating to find that after walking a fine line of uncertainty toward her, the rest of the Maidens had comedown on the side of her being just another pupil of the Wise Ones. Why, they would not even let her past the door of the Roof unless she claimed to be on an errand.\n\nThe quickness with which she heeled Mist on through the crowd had nothing to do with acceptance of Far Dareis Mai justice, or her uncomfortable awareness that some of the Maidens were eyeing her, no doubt ready to lecture if they thought she intended to interfere. It even had little to do with her dislike of Isendre. She did not want to think about her glimpse of the woman's dreams, just before Cowinde had come to rouse her. They had been nightmares of torture, of things being done to the woman that sent Egwene fleeing in horror, and with something dark and evil laughing as it watched her run. No wonder Isendre looked haggard. Egwene had started up out of her sleep so quickly that Cowinde had jumped back from lying a hand on her shoulder." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand was in the street in front of the Maidens'Roof, wearing a shoufa against the coming sun and a blue silk coat with enough gold embroidery to befit a palace, though it hung open halfway down the front. His belt had anew buckle, an elaborate thing shaped like a Dragon. He really was beginning to think a great deal of himself, that was clear. Standing beside Jeade'en, his dappled stallion, he was talking with the clan chiefs and some of the Aiel traders who would be staying in Rhuidean.\n\nJasin Natael, nearly at Rand's heels, with his harp on his back and holding the reins of a saddled mule bought from Master Kadere, was even more elaborately dressed, with silver embroidery nearly hiding his black coat, and spills of white lace at his neck and cuffs. Even his boots were worked in silver where they turned down at the knee. The gleeman's cloak with its patches did spoil the effect, but gleemen were odd folk.\n\nThe male traders wore the cadin'sor, and though their belt knives were smaller than those of warriors, Egwene knew they could all handle a spear if called to; they had something, if not all, of the deadly grace of their brothers who carried the spear. The women traders, in loose white algode blouses and full woolen skirts, headscarves and shawls, were more easily distinguishable. Except for Maidens and gai'shain-and Aviendha-Aiel women all wore multiple bracelets and necklaces of gold and ivory, silver and gemstones, some of Aiel make, some traded for, and some looted. Among Aiel traders, though, the women displayed twice as many, if not more." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She caught part of what Rand was telling the traders. \"... give the Ogier stonemasons a freehand on some of what they build, at least. On as much as you can make yourselves. There's no point in just trying to remake the past.\"\n\nSo he was having them send to the stedding for Ogier to rebuild Rhuidean. That was good. Much of Tar Valon was Ogier work, and where they were left to their own devices their buildings were enough to take the breath away.\n\nMat was already upon his gelding, Pips, with his widebrimmed hat pulled down and the butt of that odd spear resting on his stirrup. As usual, his highcollared green coat looked slept in. She had avoided his dreams. One of the Maidens, a very tall goldenhaired woman, gave Mat a roguish grin that seemed to embarrass him. And well it should; she was much too old for him. Egwene sniffed. I know very well what he was dreaming about, thank you very much! She only reined in beside him to look around for Aviendha.\n\n\"He told her to be quiet, and she did,\" he said as she halted Mist. He nodded toward Moiraine and Lan, she in pale blue silk, gripping the reins of her white mare, and he in his Warder's cloak, holding his great black warhorse. Lan was watching Moiraine intently, expressionless as always, while she looked ready to burst with impatience as she glared at Rand. \"She started telling him why this is the wrong thing to do-sounded tome like she was saying it for the hundredth time-and he said,\"I've decided, Moiraine. Stand over there and be quiet till I have time for you.\" Like he expected her to do as she was told. And she did. Is that steam coming out of her ears?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His chortle was so pleased, so amused at his own wit, that she nearly embraced saidar and taught him a lesson right therein front of everybody. Instead she sniffed again, loudly enough to let him know it was for him and his wit and his amusement. He gave her awry, sidelong look, and chuckled again, which did nothing for her temper.\n\nFora moment she stared at Moiraine, perplexed. The Aes Sedai had done as Rand told her? Without protest? That was like one of the Wise Ones obeying, or the sun rising at midnight. She had heard about the attack, of course; rumors about giant dogs that left footprints on stone had been allover this morning. She could not see what that could have to do with this, but aside from the news of the Shaido it was the only new thing she knew of, and not enough to produce this reaction. Nothing could produce it, that she could think of. Doubtless Moiraine would tell her it was none of her concern, but one way or another she would worry it out. She did not like not understanding things.\n\nSpotting Aviendha, standing on the bottom step of the Roof, she guided Mist around to the other side of the crowd near Rand. The Aiel woman was staring at him as hard as the Aes Sedai did, but with absolutely no expression. She kept turning the ivory bracelet on her wrist over and over, apparently without realizing it. Somehow or other that bracelet was part of the difficulty the woman was having with him. Egwene did not understand; Aviendha refused to talk about it, and she could not just ask someone else, not when it might embarrass her friend. Her own flamecarved ivory bracelet was a gift from Aviendha, to seal them as nearsisters; her return gift had been the silver necklace the other woman wore, which Master Kadere claimed was a Kandori pattern called snowflakes. She had had to ask Moiraine for enough money, but it had seemed appropriate fora woman who would never see snow. Or would not have if she was not leaving the Waste; small chance that she could return before winter." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Whatever that bracelet meant, Egwene was confident she could puzzle it out eventually.\n\n\"Are you all right?\" she asked. As she leaned out of her highcantled saddle, her skirts shifted till her legs showed, but she was concerned enough with her friend to hardly notice.\n\nShe had to repeat the question before Aviendha gave a start and stared up at her. \"All right? Of course I am.\"\n\n\"Let me speak to the Wise Ones, Aviendha. I'm sure I can convince them that they cannot just make you...\" She could not make herself say it, not out here where anyone in the crowd might hear.\n\n\"Does that still worry you?\" Aviendha shifted her gray shawl and gave a small shake of her head. \"Your customs are still very strange tome.\" Her eyes drifted back to Rand like iron filings drawn to a lodestone.\n\n\"You do not have to be afraid of him.\"\n\n\"I am not afraid of any man,\" the other woman snapped, eyes flashing bluegreen fire. \"I want no trouble between us, Egwene, but you should not say such things.\"\n\nEgwene sighed. Friend or not, Aviendha was quite capable of trying to box her ears when offended enough. In any case, she was not sure she would have admitted it, either. Aviendha's dream had been too painful to watch for long. Naked but for that ivory bracelet, and that seeming to drag at her as if it weighed a hundred pounds, Aviendha had been running as hard as she could across a cracked clay flat. And behind her, Rand came, a giant twice the size of an Ogier on a huge Jeade'en, slowly but inexorably catching up.\n\nBut you could not simply tell a friend that she was lying. Egwene's face reddened slightly. Especially not when you would have to tell her how you knew. She would box my ears, then. I won't do it again. Go rummaging about in people's dreams. Not in Aviendha's dreams, anyway. It was not right to spy on a friend's dreams. Not that it was spying, exactly, but still..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The crowd around Rand was beginning to breakup. He swung into his saddle easily, imitated promptly by Natael. One of the traders, a broadfaced, flamehaired woman wearing a small fortune in worked gold, cut gems and carved ivory, lingered, though. \"Car'a\"carn, do you mean to leave the Threefold Land forever? You have spoken as if you will never return.\"\n\nThe others stopped at that and turned back. Silence spread on an expanding ripple of murmurs telling what had been asked.\n\nFora moment Rand was silent as well, looking around at the faces turned to him. At last he said, \"I hope to return, but who can say what will happen? The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills.\" He hesitated, with every eye on him. \"But I will leave you something to remember me by,\" he added, sticking a hand in his coat pocket.\n\nAbruptly a fountain near the Roof burst to life, water gushing from the mouths of incongruous porpoises standing on their tails. Beyond that, a statue of a young man with a horn raised to the sky suddenly was putting up a spreading fan, and then two stone women farther on were casting sprays of water from their hands. In stunned stillness the Aiel watched as all the fountains of Rhuidean flowed once more.\n\n\"I should have done that long since.\" Rand's mutter was no doubt meant for himself, but in the hush Egwene could hear him quite clearly. The splash of hundreds of fountains was the only other sound. Natael shrugged as if he had expected no less.\n\nIt was at Rand that Egwene stared, not the fountains. A man who could channel. Rand. He's still Rand, despite everything. But each time she saw him do it was like learning that he could allover again. Growing up, she had been taught that only the Dark One was more to be feared than a man who could channel. Maybe Aviendha's right to be afraid of him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But when she looked down at Aviendha, open wonder shone on her face; so much water delighted the Aiel woman as the finest silk dress might have Egwene, or a garden full of flowers.\n\n\"It is time to march,\" Rand announced, reining the dapple westward. \"Anyone who isn't ready will have to catch up.\" Natael followed close behind on the mule. Why did Rand let such a bootlicker stay near him?\n\nThe clan chiefs immediately began passing orders, and the bustle increased tenfold. Maidens and Water Seekers darted ahead, and more Far Dareis Mai closed around Rand as a guard of honor, incidentally enclosing Natael. Aviendha strode beside Jeade'en, right at Rand's stirrup, easily matching the stallion stride for stride even in her bulky skirts.\n\nFalling in beside Mat, behind Rand and his escort, Egwene frowned. Her friend wore that look of grim determination again, as if she had to put her arm into a viper den. I have to do something to help her. Egwene did not give upon a problem once she had her teeth into it.\n\nSettling herself in her saddle, Moiraine patted Aldieb's arched neck with a gloved hand, but she did not immediately follow Rand, Hadnan Kadere was bringing his wagons up the street, driving the lead wagon himself. She should have made him tear that wagon down to carry cargo as she had the other like it; the man was frightened enough of her, of Aes Sedai, to have done it. The doorframe ter'angreal was lashed firmly in the wagon behind Kadere, canvas tied over it tightly so no one could fall through by accident again. Along line of Aiel-Seia Doon, Black Eyes-strode along on either side of the wagon train." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kadere bowed to her from the driver's seat, but her gaze swept on down to the line of wagons, all the way to the great square surrounding the forest of slim glass columns, already sparkling in the morning light. She would have taken everything in the plaza if she could, rather than the small fraction that would fit into the wagons. Some were too large. Like the three dull gray metal rings, each more than two paces across, standing on edge and joined at the middle. A braided leather rope had been strung around that one, to warn all from entering without the Wise Ones\" permission. Not that anyone was likely to, of course. Only the clan chiefs and the Wise Ones entered that square with any sense of ease; only the Wise Ones touched anything, and they with something approaching proper reticence.\n\nFor countless years the second test faced by an Aiel woman who wanted to be a Wise One had been to enter the array of glittering glass columns, seeing exactly what the men saw. More women survived it than men-Bair said it was because women were tougher, Amys that those too weak to survive were winnowed out before reaching that point-but it was not a certainty. Those who did survive were not marked. The Wise Ones claimed that only men needed visible signs; fora woman, to be alive was enough.\n\nThe first test, the first winnowing, before any training even, was to step through one of those three rings. Which one did not matter, or perhaps the choice was a matter of fate. That step seemingly took her through her life again and again, her future spread out before her, all of the possible futures based on every decision she might make for the rest of her life. Death was possible in those, too; some women could not face the future anymore than others could face the past. All possible futures were too many fora mind to retain, of course. They jumbled together and faded away for the most part, but a woman gained a sense of things that would happen in her life, that must happen, that might happen. Usually even that was hidden until the moment was on her. Not always, though. Moiraine had been through those rings." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A spoonful of hope and a cup of despair, she thought.\n\n\"I do not like seeing you like this,\" Lan said. From Mandarb's back and his own height, he looked down on her, disquiet creasing the corners of his eyes. For him that was near tears of frustration from another man.\n\nAiel streamed by on both sides of their horses, and gai'shain with pack animals. Moiraine was startled to realize that Kadere's water wagons had already gone by; she had not realized she had been staring at the plaza for so long.\n\n\"Like what?\" she asked, turning her mare to join the throng. Rand and his escort were already out of the city.\n\n\"Worried,\" he said bluntly, no readable expression on that stonecarved face now. \"Afraid. I've never seen you afraid, not when we had Trollocs and Myrddraal swarming over us, not even when you learned the Forsaken were loose and Sammael was sitting almost on top of us. Is the end coming?\"\n\nShe gave a start, and immediately wished she had not. He was looking straight ahead over his stallion's ears, but the man never missed anything. Sometimes she thought he could see a leaf fall behind his back. \"Do you mean Tarmon Gai'don? A redbird in Seleisin knows as well as I. The Light send, not so long as any of the seals remain unbroken.\" The pair she had were on one of Kadere's wagons, too, each packed by itself in a cask stuffed with wool. A different wagon than the redstone doorframe; she had made sure of that.\n\n\"What else could I mean?\" he asked slowly, still not looking at her, and making her wish she had bitten her tongue. \"You have become-impatient. I can remember when you could wait weeks for one tiny scrap of information, one word, without twitching a finger, but now-\" He did look at her then, a blueeyed gaze that would have intimidated most women. And most men as well. \"The oath you gave to the boy, Moiraine. Whatever under the Light possessed you?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"He has been drawing further and further away from me, Lan, and I must be close to him." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He needs whatever guidance I can give, and I will do everything short of sharing his bed to see that he gets it.\" The rings had told her that that would be disaster. Not that she had ever considered it-the very idea still shocked her!-but in the rings it was something she would or could have considered in the future. It was a measure of her growing desperation, no doubt, and in the rings she had seen that it would bring ruination on everything. She wished she could remember how-there were keys to Rand al'Thor in anything she could learn about him-but only the simple fact of calamity remained in her mind.\n\n\"Perhaps it will help your humility grow, if he tells you to fetch his slippers and light his pipe.\"\n\nShe stared at him. Could that be a joke? If so, it was not amusing. She had never found that humility served very well in any situation. Siuan claimed that growing up in the Sun Palace in Cairhien had put arrogance deeply into Moiraine's bones, where she could not even see it-something she firmly denied-but for all that Siuan was a Tairen fisherman's daughter, she could match any queen stare for stare, and to her arrogance meant opposition to her own plans.\n\nIf Lan was attempting jokes, however feeble and wrongheaded, he was changing. For nearly twenty years he had followed her, and saved her life more times than she cared to count, often at great risk to his own. Always he had accounted his life a small thing, valuable only for her need of it; some said he wooed death the way a bridegroom wooed his bride. She had never held his heart, and never felt jealousy toward the women who seemed to throw themselves at his feet. He had long claimed that he had no heart. But he had found one this past year, found it when a woman tied it on a string to hang around her neck." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He denied her, of course. Not his love for Nynaeve al'Meara, once a Wisdom in the Two Rivers and now an Accepted of the White Tower, but that he could ever have her. He had two things, he said, a sword that would not break and a war that could not end; he would never gift a bride with those. That, at least, Moiraine had taken care of, though he would not know how until it was done. If he did, he would very probably try to change matters, stubborn fool man that he could be.\n\n\"This arid land seems to have withered your own humility, al'Lan Mandragoran. I shall have to find some water to make it grow again.\"\n\n\"My humility is honed to razor sharpness,\" he told her dryly. \"You never let it grow too dull.\" Wetting a white scarf from his leather water bottle, he handed her the sodden cloth. She tied it around her temples without comment. The sun was beginning to rise above the mountains behind them, a searing ball of molten gold.\n\nThe thick column snaked up the barren side of Chaendaer, its tail still in Rhuidean when its head had crested the slope, then down onto rough, hilly flats dotted with rock spires and flattopped buttes, some streaked with red or ocher through the gray or brown. The air was so clear that Moiraine could see for miles, even after they were down off Chaendaer. Great natural arches reared, and in every direction jagged mountains clawed at the sky. Dry gullies and hollows split a land sparsely dotted with low, thorny bushes and leafless spiny plants. The rare tree, gnarled and stunted, usually bore spines or thorns as well. The sun made it an oven. A hard land that had shaped a hard people. But Lan was not the only one changing, or being changed. She wished she could see what Rand would make of the Aiel in the end. There was along journey ahead, for everyone." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Over the Border\n\nClinging to her perch at the rear of the jouncing wagon, Nynaeve used one hand for herself and one for her straw hat as she peered back at the furious dust storm dwindling behind them in the distance. The broad brim shaded her face in the morning heat, but the breeze generated by the wagon's rumbling speed was enough to snatch it from her head despite the dark red scarf tied under her chin. Lowhilled grassland with occasional thickets rolled by, the grass sere and thin in the latesummer heat; dust churned up by the wagon wheels obscured her vision somewhat, and made her cough besides. The white clouds in the sky lied. There had been no rain since before they left Tanchico, weeks earlier, and it had been sometime since the wide road had borne the traffic of wagons that once kept it hard packed.\n\nNo one appeared riding out of that seemingly solid wall of brown, which was just as well. She had lost her anger at brigands trying to stop them this close to escaping the madness of Tarabon, and unless she was angry, she could not sense the True Source, much less channel. Even angry, she had been surprised at being able to raise such a storm; once whipped up, full of her fury, it held a life of its own. Elayne had been startled at the size of it, too, though thankfully she had not let onto Thom or Juilin. But even if her strength was increasing-her teachers in the Tower had said that it would, and certainly none of them was strong enough to best one of the Forsaken as she had-even with that, she still had that limitation. Had any of the bandits appeared, Elayne would have had to deal with them alone, and she did not want that. Her earlier anger was gone, but she was making fine for another crop." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Awkwardly climbing up over the canvas lashed across the load of casks, she reached down to one of the water barrels fastened along the sides of the wagon together with the chests of their possessions and supplies. Immediately her hat was on the back of her head, held only by the scarf. Her fingers could just touch the lid of the barrel, unless she released the rope that she was gripping with her other hand, and the way the wagon was lurching along, that would probably send her off onto her nose.\n\nJuilin Sandar guided the lanky brown gelding he was riding-Skulker was the improbable name he had put on the animal-close to the wagon, and, reached over to hand her one of the leather water bottles slung about his saddle. She drank gratefully, though not gracefully. Hanging there like a bunch of grapes on a windblown vine, she spilled nearly as much water down the front of her good gray dress as she did down her throat.\n\nIt was a suitable dress fora merchant, highnecked, finely woven and wellcut, but still plain. The pinon her breast, a small circle of dark garnets in gold, was perhaps too much fora merchant, but it had been a gift from the panarch of Tarabon, along with other jewelry, much richer, hidden in a compartment beneath the wagon driver's seat. She wore it to remind herself that even women who sat on thrones sometimes needed to betaken by the scruff of the neck and shaken. She had a little more sympathy for the Tower's manipulations of kings and queens now that she had dealt with Amathera.\n\nShe suspected that Amathera had meant her gifts as a bribe to make them depart Tanchico. The woman had been willing to buy a ship so that they would not remain an hour more than necessary, but no one had been willing to sell. The few vessels remaining in Tanchico Harbor that were suitable for more than coasting had been jammed with refugees. Besides, a ship was the obvious way, the fastest way, to leave, and the Black Ajah might well be watching for her and Elayne, after what had happened. They had been sent to hunt Aes Sedai who were Darkfriends, not to be ambushed by them. Thus the wagon and the long trek across a land torn by civil war and anarchy. She was beginning to wish she had not insisted on avoiding the ships. Not that she would ever admit it to the others." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When she tried to hand the water bottle back to Juilin, he waved it away. A tough man, seemingly carved from some dark wood, he was not very comfortable on the back of a horse. He looked ridiculous to her; not because of his obvious ill ease in the saddle, but for the silly red Taraboner hat that he had taken to wearing on his flat, black hair, a brimless, conical thing, tall and flattopped. It did not go well with his dark Tairen coat, tight to the waist, then flaring. She did not think it would go well with anything. In her opinion, he looked as if he were wearing a cake on his head.\n\nIt was clumsy scrambling the rest of the way forward with the leather bottle in one hand and her hat flapping, and she did it muttering imprecations for the Tairen thiefcatcher-Never thieftaker, not him!-for Thom Merrilin-Puffedup gleeman!-and for Elayne of House Trakand, DaughterHeir of Andor, who ought to be shaken by the scruff of the neck herself!\n\nShe meant to slide onto the wooden driver's seat between Thom and Elayne, but the goldenhaired girl was pressed tightly against Thom, her own straw hat hanging on her back. She was clutching the white mustached old fool's arm as if afraid of falling off. Tightmouthed, Nynaeve had to settle for Elayne's other side. She was glad she had her hair in one proper braid again, wristthick and hanging down to her waist; she could give it a tug instead of thumping Elayne's ear for her. The girl had used to seem reasonably sensible, but something seemed to have addled her wits in Tanchico." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"They aren't following us anymore,\" Nynaeve announced, pulling her hat back into place. \"You can slow this thing down now, Thom.\" She could have shouted that from the back and not needed to clamber over the casks, but the image of herself bouncing about and calling for them to slow had stopped her. She did not like making a fool of herself, and liked even less others seeing her in a foolish light. \"Put your hat on,\" she told Elayne. \"That fair skin of yours will not appreciate this sun for long.\"\n\nAs she had halfexpected, the girl ignored her friendly advice. \"You drive so wonderfully,\" Elayne gushed as Thom drew back on the reins, pulling the fourhorse team to a walk. \"You were in control every minute.\"\n\nThe tall, wiry man glanced down at her, bushy white eyebrows twitching, but all he said was, \"We have more company ahead, child.\" Well, maybe he was not such a fool.\n\nNynaeve looked, and saw the snowycloaked mounted column approaching them over the next low rise, perhaps half a hundred men in burnished mail and shining conical helmets, escorting as many heavily laden wagons. Children of the Light. She was suddenly very conscious of the leather thong hanging around her neck beneath her dress, and the two rings dangling between her breasts. Lan's heavy gold signet ring, the ring of the Kings of lost Malkier, would mean nothing to the Whitecloaks, but if they saw the Great Serpent ring...\n\nFool woman! They aren't likely to, unless you decide to undress!\n\nHastily she ran an eye over her companions. Elayne could not stop being beautiful, and now that she had let goof Thom and was retying the green scarf that held her hat, her manner looked more suited to a throne room than a merchant's wagon, but aside from being blue, her dress was no different from Nynaeve's. She wore no jewelry; she had called Amathera's gifts'gaudy.\" She would pass; she had done so fifty times since Tanchico. Barely. Only, this was the first meeting with Whitecloaks. Thom, in stout brown wool, could have been any of a thousand gnarled, whitehaired men who worked wagons. And Juilin was Juilin. He knew how to behave, though he looked as though he wished he were surefooted on the ground, with his staff or the slotted swordbreaker he wore at his belt, rather than on a horse." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Thom drew the team over to one side of the road and halted as several Whitecloaks broke away from the head of the column. Nynaeve put on a welcoming smile. She hoped they had not decided that they needed another wagon.\n\n\"The Light illumine you, Captain,\" she said to the narrowfaced man who was obviously the leader, the only one not carrying a steeltipped lance. She had no idea what rank the two golden knots signified on the breast of his cloak, right below the flaring sunburst they all wore, but in her experience men would accept any flattery. \"We are very glad to see you. Bandits tried to rob us a few miles back, but a dust storm appeared like a miracle. We barely esc-\"\n\n\"You area merchant? Few merchants have come out of Tarabon in sometime.\" The man's voice was as harsh as his face, and that looked as though all joy had been boiled out of it before he left the cradle. Suspicion filled his dark, deepset eyes; Nynaeve did not doubt that was, permanent, too. \"Bound to where, with what?\"\n\n\"I carry dyes, Captain.\" She worked to maintain her smile under that steady, unblinking stare; it was a relief when he shifted it to the others briefly. Thom was making a good job of appearing bored, just a wagon driver who would be paid stopped or moving, and if Juilin had not snatched off that ridiculous hat as he once would have, at least he seemed no more than idly interested, a hired man with nothing to hide. When the Whitecloak's gaze dropped to Elayne, Nynaeve felt the other woman stiffen, and hurried on. \"Taraboner dyes. The finest in the world. I can get a good price for them in Andor.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At a signal from the captain-or whatever he was-one of the other Whitecloaks heeled his horse to the back of the wagon. Slicing one of the ropes with his dagger, he jerked some of the canvas loose, enough to expose three or four casks. \"They're branded'Tanchico, \"Lieutenant. This one says'crimson. ' Do you want me to break open a few?\"\n\nNynaeve hoped the Whitecloak officer took the anxiety on her face the right way. Even without looking at her, she could all but feel Elayne wanting to call the soldier down for his manners, but any real merchant would be worried at having dyes exposed to the elements. \"If you will show me the ones you want opened, Captain, I will be more than happy to do it myself.\" The man showed no response at all, to flattery or offers of cooperation. \"The casks were sealed to keep out dust and water, you see. If the cask head is broken, I'll never be able to cover it over with wax again here.\"\n\nThe rest of the column reached them and began to pass in a cloud of dust; the wagon drivers were roughly dressed, nondescript men, but the soldiers rode stiffly erect, their long steel lance points all slanted at exactly the same angle. Even sweatyfaced and coated with dust, they looked hard men. Only the drivers glanced at Nynaeve and the others.\n\nThe Whitecloak lieutenant waved dust away from his face with one gauntleted hand, then motioned the man back from the wagon. His eyes never left Nynaeve. \"You come from Tanchico?\"\n\nNynaeve nodded, a picture of cooperation and openness. \"Yes, Captain. Tanchico.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What word have you of the city? There have been rumors.\"\n\n\"Rumors, Captain? When we left, there was little order remaining. The city was full of refugees, and the countryside of rebels and bandits. Trade hardly exists.\" That was the truth, pure and simple. \"That's why these dyes will fetch particularly good prices. There will be no more Taraboner dyes available fora long while, I think.\"\n\n\"I do not care about refugees, trade or dyes, merchant,\" the officer said in flat tones. \"Was Andric still on the throne?\"\n\n\"Yes, Captain.\" Obviously, rumor said someone had taken Tanchico and supplanted the King, and perhaps someone had. But who-one of the rebel lords who fought each other as hard as they did Andric, or the Dragonsworn who had pledged themselves to the Dragon Reborn without ever seeing him? \"Andric was still King, and Amathera still Panarch, when we left.\"\n\nHis eyes said she could belying. \"It is said the Tar Valon witches were involved. Did you see any Aes Sedai, or hear of them?\"\n\n\"No, Captain,\" she said quickly. The Great Serpent ring seemed hot against her skin. Fifty Whitecloaks, close at hand. A dust storm would not help this time, and anyway, though she tried to deny it, she was more scared than angry. \"Plain merchants don't mingle with that sort.\" He nodded, and she risked adding a question. Anything to change the subject. \"If you please, Captain, have we entered Amadicia yet?\"\n\n\"The border is five miles east,\" he pronounced. \"For the time being. The first village you come to will be Mardecin. Obey the law, and you will be well. There is a garrison of the Children there.\" He sounded as if the garrison would spend all of its time making sure they did obey the law." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Have you come to move the border?\" Elayne asked suddenly and coolly. Nynaeve could have strangled her.\n\nThe deepset, suspicious eyes shifted to Elayne, and Nynaeve said hastily, \"Forgive her, my Lord Captain. My eldest sister's girl. She thinks she should have been born a lady, and she can't keep away from the boys besides. That's why her mother sent her tome.\" Elayne's indignant gasp was perfect. It was also probably quite real. Nynaeve supposed she had not needed to add that about boys, but it seemed to fit.\n\nThe Whitecloak stared at them a moment longer, then said, \"The Lord Captain Commander sends food into Tarabon. Otherwise, we would have Taraboner vermin over the border and stealing anything they could chew. Walk in the Light,\" he added before swinging his horse to gallop back to the head of the column. It was neither suggestion nor blessing.\n\nThom got the wagon moving as soon as the officer left, but everyone sat silent, except for coughing, until they were well beyond the last soldier and out of the other wagons' dust.\n\nSwallowing a little water to wet her throat, Nynaeve pushed the water bottle at Elayne. \"What did you mean back there?\" she demanded. \"We aren't in your mother's throne room, and your mother would not stand for it anyway!\"\n\nElayne emptied the rest of the leather bottle before deigning to reply. \"You were crawling, Nynaeve.\" She pitched her voice high, in a mock servility. \"I am very good and obedient, Captain. May I kiss your boots, Captain?\"\n\n\"We are supposed to be merchants, not queens in disguise!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Merchants do not have to be lickspittles! You are lucky he didn't think we were trying to hide something, acting so servile!\"\n\n\"They don't stare down their noses at Whitecloaks with fifty lances, either! Or did you think we could overwhelm them all with the Power, if need be?\"\n\n\"Why did you tell him I could not keep away from boys? There was no need for that, Nynaeve!\"\n\n\"I was ready to tell him anything that would make him go away and leave us alone! And you-!\"\n\n\"Both of you shut up,\" Thom barked suddenly, \"before they comeback to see which of you is murdering the other!\"\n\nNynaeve actually twisted around on the wooden seat to look back before she realized the Whitecloaks were too far off to hear even if they had been shouting. Well, maybe they had been. It did not help that Elayne did the same.\n\nNynaeve took a firm hold on her braid and glared at Thom, but Elayne snuggled herself against his arm and practically cooed, \"You are right, Thom. I am sorry I raised my voice.\" Juilin was watching them sideways, pretending not to, but he was wise enough not to bring his horse close enough to become part of it.\n\nLetting goof her braid before she pulled it out by the roots, Nynaeve adjusted her hat and sat staring straight ahead over the horses. Whatever had gotten into the girl, it was high time to get it out again.\n\nOnly a tall stone pillar to each side of the road marked the border between Tarabon and Amadicia. There was no traffic on the road but them. The hills gradually became a little higher, but otherwise the land remained much the same, brown grass and thickets with few green leaves except on pine or leatherleaf or other evergreens. Stonefenced fields and thatchroofed stone farmhouses dotted the slopes and dells, but they had a look of abandonment. No smoke rising from chimneys, no men working crops, no sheep or cows. Sometimes a few chickens scratched in a farmyard near the road, but they scurried away, gone feral, at the wagon's approach. Whitecloak garrison or no, apparently no one was willing to risk Taraboner brigands this close to the border." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When Mardecin appeared, from the top of arise, the sun still had along way to climb to its zenith. The town ahead looked too big for the name of village, nearly a mile across, straddling a small bridged stream between two hills, with as many slate roofs as thatched, and considerable bustle in the wide streets.\n\n\"We need to buy supplies,\" Nynaeve said, \"but we want to be quick about it. We can cover a lot of ground yet before nightfall.\"\n\n\"We are wearing out, Nynaeve,\" Thom said. \"First light to last light everyday for nearly a month. One day resting will not make much difference in reaching Tar Valon.\" He did not sound tired. More likely he was looking forward to playing his harp or his flute in one of the taverns and getting men to buy him wine.\n\nJuilin had finally brought his mount close to the wagon, and he added, \"I could do with a day on my feet. I do not know whether this saddle or that wagon seat is worse.\"\n\n\"I think we should find an inn,\" Elayne said, looking up at Thom. \"I have had quite enough of sleeping under this wagon, and I would like to listen to you tell stories in the common room.\"\n\n\"Onewagon merchants are little more than peddlers,\" Nynaeve said sharply. \"They cannot afford inns in a town like this.\"\n\nShe did not know whether that was true or not, but despite her own desire fora bath and clean sheets, she was not going to let the girl getaway with directing the suggestion at Thom. It was not until the words were out of her mouth that she realized that she had given into Thom and Juilin. One day won't hurt. It's along way to Tar Valon yet." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She wished she had insisted on a ship. With a fast ship, a Sea Folk raker, they could have gotten to Tear in a third of what it had taken them to cross Tarabon, as long as they had good winds, and with the right Atha'an Miere Windfinder that would have been no problem; she or Elayne could have handled it, for that matter. The Tairens knew that she and Elayne were friends of Rand's, and she expected that they still sweated buckets for fear of offending the Dragon Reborn; they would have provided a carriage and escort for the journey up to Tar Valon.\n\n\"Find us a place to camp,\" she said reluctantly. She should have insisted on a ship. They might have been back in the Tower by now." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Support the writer, proceed with the storyline.\nTags: fantasy, historical fantasy, druids\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Forest House\nChapter: 7" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A cold wind was whipping the torches into fiery tails. Angry light glittered on the dark waters of the strait and the shields of the legionaries waiting on the other side. The priestess coughed at the reek of smoke and sea fog and listened to the clangor of camp Latin echoing across the waters as the Roman Commander harangued his men. The Druids sang out in answer, calling down the wrath of the skies, and thunder shook the air.\n\nWomen's voices rose in a shrill ululation that sent a chill through her body, or perhaps it was fear. She swayed with the other priestesses, arms raised in imprecation; their dark cloaks flaring out like raven wings.\n\nBut the Romans were howling too, and now the first rank surged into the water. The Druid war harp throbbed with a dreadful music, and her throat was scraped raw with shrieking, but still the enemy came on.\n\nThe first red-cloaked soldier set foot on the shore of the Holy Isle and the gods did not strike him. Now the singing faltered. A priest pushed the priestess behind him as Roman steel caught the torchlight; the sword fell and blood sprayed across her dark robe.\n\nThe rhythm of the chant was lost. Now there was only screaming and she ran for the trees. Behind her the Romans were scything the Druids down like grain. Too quickly, they finished, and the red tide swept inland.\n\nThe priestess stumbled through the trees, seeking the sacred circles. An orange glow filled the sky above the House of Women. The stones loomed up ahead, but from behind her came shouting. She turned at bay, clinging to the central altar stone. Now, surely, they would kill her... She called out to the Goddess and straightened, waiting for the blow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But it was not weapons of steel they meant to use against her. She struggled as hard hands grabbed at her body, tearing off her robes. They forced her down upon the stone, and then the first man battered against her. There was no escape; she could only use the sacred disciplines to withdraw her mind from this body until they were done. But as awareness winged away, she cried out: \"Lady of Ravens, avenge me! Avenge!\"\n\n\"Avenge...\" My own shout woke me, and I sat up, staring. As always, it took a few moments for me to realize that it was only a dream, and not even my own, for I was still a child in the year when the Legions murdered the priests and raped the women of the Holy Isle; an unwanted girl-child called Caillean, safe in Hibernia across the sea. But since first I heard the story, soon after the Priestess of the Oracle brought me to this land, the spirits of those women have haunted me.\n\nThe curtain at my door fluttered and one of the maidens who served me looked in. \"My Lady, are you well? May I help you to robe? It is almost time to greet the dawn.\"\n\nI nodded, feeling the cold sweat dry on my brow, and allowed her to help me into a clean gown and arrange the ornaments of a High Priestess on my breast and brow. Then I followed her out onto the summit of another isle, a green Tor that rose from the mingling of marsh and meadow that men call the Summer Sea. From below came the singing of the maidens who watch over the sacred well, and from the vale beyond it the bell that calls the hermits to prayer in the little beehive church beside the white thorn tree.\n\nThey were not the first folk to seek sanctuary on this island at the end of the world beyond the narrow seas, nor do I suppose they will be the last. So many years have passed since the death of the Holy Isle, and though in my dreams ancient voices still cry out for revenge, a hard-won wisdom tells me that the mixing of blood strengthens a breed, so long as the ancient knowledge is not lost." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But to this day I have never found any good in the Romans or their ways. This is why even for Eilan, who was dearer than a daughter tome, I could never trust in any Roman, not even Gaius, whom she loved.\n\nBut no tramping of iron-shod legionary sandals on stone-paved roads disturbs us here, for I have cast a veil of mist and mystery to keep out the straight-edged Roman world.\n\nToday, perhaps, I will tell the maidens the story of how we came here, for between the destruction of the House of Women on the Isle of Mona and the return of the priestesses to the Isle of Apples, the women of the Druids dwelt at Vernemeton, the Forest House, and that story must not be forgotten.\n\nIt was there that I learned the Mysteries of the Goddess and taught them in turn to Eilan, daughter of Rheis, who became the greatest High Priestess and, some would say, the greatest traitor to her people of all. But through Eilan the blood of the Dragon and the Eagle have mingled with the blood of the Wise, and in the hour of greatest need that line will always come to Britain's aid.\n\nIn the marketplace men say that Eilan was the Romans' victim, but I know better. In its time the Forest House preserved the Mysteries, and the gods do not require that we all be conquerors, or even that we all be wise, but only that we serve the truth that we are given until we can pass it on.\n\nMy priestesses are gathering around me, singing. I lift my hands, and as the sun strikes through the mists I bless the land." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Shafts of golden light shone through the trees as the setting sun dropped below the clouds, outlining each new-washed leaf in gold. The hair of the two girls who were making their way along the forest path glowed with the same pale fire. Earlier in the day there had been rain. The thick, uncleared forest that still covered much of the south of Britain lay damp and quiet, and a few low boughs still shook scattered drops like a blessing across the path.\n\nEilan breathed deeply of the moist air, heavy with all the living scents of the woods and sweet as incense after the smoky atmosphere of her father's hall. In the Forest House, she had been told, they used sacred herbs to purify the air. Instinctively she straightened, trying to walk like one of the priestesses who dwelt there, lifting the basket of offerings in her best imitation of their balanced grace. Fora moment, then, her body moved with a rhythm both unfamiliar and completely natural, as if she had been trained to do this in some ancient past.\n\nOnly since her moonblood began had shebeen allowed to bring the offerings to the spring. As her monthly cycle made her a woman, said her mother, so the waters of the sacred spring were the fertility of the land. But the rituals of the Forest House served its spirit, bringing down the Goddess herself at the full of the moon. The moon had been full the night before and before her mother called her in, Eilan had stood fora longtime staring up at it, filled with an expectancy she could not define.\n\nPerhaps the Priestess of the Oracle will claim me for the Goddess at the Beltane festival. Closing her eyes, Eilan tried to imagine the blue robes of a priestess trailing behind her, and the veil shadowing her features with mystery." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Eilan, what are you doing?\" Dieda's voice startled her back to awareness, she stumbled over a tree root and nearly dropped the basket. \"You are lagging like a lame cow! It will be dark before we get back to the hall if we do not finish soon.\"\n\nRecovering, Eilan hurried after the other girl, blushing furiously. But already she could hear the gentle murmur of the spring. In another moment the path dropped downward, and she followed Dieda to the cleft where the waters trickled out from between two rocks and fell into the pool. In sometime long past men had set stones around it; over the years the water had worn their spiraled carvings smooth. But the hazel to whose branches folk tied their wishing ribbons was young, the descendant of many trees that had grown there.\n\nThey settled themselves beside the pool and spread a cloth for the offerings, exquisitely prepared cakes, a flask of mead, and some silver coins. It was only a small pool, after all, where the minor goddess of this forest had her dwelling, not one of the holy lakes where whole armies sacrificed the treasures they had won, but for many years the women of her line had brought her their offerings every month after their moon-times, that their link to the Goddess might be renewed.\n\nShivering a little in the cool air, they pulled off their gowns and bent over the pool.\n\n\"Sacred spring, you are the womb of the Goddess. As your waters cradle all life, may I bear new life into the world...\" Eilan scooped up water and let it trickle over her belly and between her thighs.\n\n\"Sacred spring, your waters are the milk of the Goddess. As you feed the world, let me nourish those I love...\" Her nipples tingled as the cool water touched them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sacred spring, you are the spirit of the Goddess. As your waters well forever from the depths, give me the power to renew the world...\" She trembled as the water bathed her brow.\n\nEilan stared into the shadowed surface, seeing the pale glimmer of her reflection take shape as the waters stilled once more. But as she stared into the water, the face that stared back at her changed. She saw an older woman with even paler skin, and dusky curls in which red highlights glinted like sparks of flame, though the eyes were the same.\n\n\"Eilan!\"\n\nAs Dieda spoke, Eilan blinked, and the face looking back at her from the water washer own once more. Her kinswoman was shivering, and suddenly Eilan felt cold as well. Hastily, they pulled on their clothes. Then Dieda reached for the basket of cakes, and her voice soared, rich and true, in the song.\n\n\"Lady of the sacred spring,\n\nTo thee these offerings I bring;\n\nFor life and luck and love I pray,\n\nGoddess, accept these gifts today.\"\n\nIn the Forest House, thought Eilan, there would be a chorus of priestesses to sing the song. Her own voice, thin and a little wavering, blended with Dieda's in an oddly pleasing harmony.\n\n\"Bless now the forest and the field,\n\nThat they their bounty to us yield;\n\nMay kin and kine be hale and whole,\n\nSafeguard the body and the soul!\"\n\nEilan poured mead from the flask into the water while Dieda crumbled the cakes and cast them into the pool. The current swirled them away, and fora moment it seemed to Eilan that its sound had grown louder. The two girls leaned over the water, letting drop the coins they had brought." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As the ripples stilled, Eilan saw their two faces, so alike, mirrored together. She stiffened, fearing to seethe stranger there once more, but as her sight darkened, this time there was only one face, with eyes that shone in the water like stars in the dark sea of heaven.\n\n\"Lady, are you the spirit of the pool? What do you want from me?\" her heart asked. And it seemed to her that words came in reply:\n\n\"My life flows through all waters, as it flows through your veins. I am the River of Time and the Sea of Space. Through many lives you have been mine. Adsartha, my daughter, when will you fulfill your vows to Me?\"\n\nIt seemed to her then that from the Lady's eyes flashed brightness that illuminated her soul, or perhaps it was sunlight, for when she came to herself she was blinking into the radiance that flared through the trees.\n\n\"Eilan!\" Dieda said in the tone of one who is repeating a summons for the second time. \"What is wrong with you today?\"\n\n\"Dieda!\" Eilan exclaimed. \"Didn't you see Her? Didn't you seethe Lady in the pool?\"\n\nDieda shook her head. \"You sound like one of those holy bitches at Vernemeton, babbling of visions!\"\n\n\"How can you say that? You're the Arch-Druid's daughter-at the Forest House you could be trained as a bard!\"\n\nDieda frowned. \"A female bard? Ardanos would never allow it, nor would I want to spend my life mewed up with a gaggle of women. I'd rather join the Ravens with your foster brother Cynric and fight Rome!\"\n\n\"Hush!\" Eilan looked around her as if the trees had ears. \"Don't you know better than to speak of that, even here? Besides, it's not fighting you want to do at Cynric's side, but to lie there-I've seen how you look at him!\" She grinned." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now Dieda was blushing. \"You know nothing about it!\" she exclaimed. \"But your time will come, and when you grow foolish over some man it will be my turn to laugh.\" She began to fold up the cloth.\n\n\"I never will,\" said Eilan. \"I want to serve the Goddess!\" And fora moment then her sight darkened and the murmur of the water seemed to grow louder, as if the Lady had heard. Then Dieda was thrusting the basket into her hands.\n\n\"Let's go home.\" She started up the path. But Eilan hesitated, for it seemed to her that she had heard something that was not the sound of the spring.\n\n\"Wait! Do you hear that? From over by the old boar pit-\"\n\nDieda stopped, her head turning, and they heard it again, fainter now, like an animal in pain.\n\n\"We'd best go and see,\" she said finally, \"though it will make us late getting home. But if something has fallen in, the men will have to come and put it out of its misery.\"\n\nThe boy lay shaken and bleeding at the bottom of the boar pit, his hopes of rescue fading with the ebbing light.\n\nThe pit where he lay was dank and foul, smelling of the dung of animals trapped therein the past. Sharp stakes were set into the bottom and sides of the pit; one of these stakes had pierced his shoulder-not a dangerous wound, he judged, nor even particularly painful as yet, for the arm was still numb with the force of his fall. But still, slight though it was, it was likely to kill him.\n\nNot that he was afraid to die; Gaius Macellius Severus Siluricus was nineteen years old and had sworn his oaths to the Emperor Titus as a Roman officer. He had fought his first battle before the down was thick on his face. But to die because he had blundered like a silly hare into a deadfall made him angry. It was his own fault, Gaius thought bitterly. If he had listened to Clotinus Albus, he would now be sitting by a warm fire, drinking the beer of the South Country and flirting with his host's daughter, Gwenna-who had put off the chaste ways of the upcountry Britons and adopted the bolder manners and bearing of girls in Roman towns like Londinium as easily as her father had adopted the Latin tongue and toga." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And yet it was for his own knowledge of the British dialects that he had been sent on this journey, Gaius remembered now, and his mouth curled grimly. The elder Severus, his father, was Prefect of the Camp of the Second Adiutrix Legion at Deva, and had married the dark-haired daughter of a chieftain of the Silures in the early days of the conquest, when Rome still hoped to win the tribes by alliance. Gaius had spoken their dialect before he could lisp a word of nursery Latin.\n\nThere had been a time, of course, when an officer of an Imperial Legion, stationed in the fort of Deva, would not have troubled himself to phrase his demands in the language of a conquered country. Even now, Flavius Rufus, tribune of the second cohort, cared nothing for such niceties. But Macellius Severus senior, Prefectus Castrorum, was responsible only to Agricola, Governor of the Province of Britain, and it was the responsibility of Macellius Severus to keep peace and harmony between the people of the Province and the Legion that occupied, guarded and governed them.\n\nStill licking their wounds a generation after the Killer Queen Boudicca had attempted her fruitless rebellion-and had been fiercely punished by the Legions-the people of Britannia were peaceful enough beneath the heavy impositions of tax and tribute. Levies of manpower they bore with less meekness, and here, on the outskirts of the Empire, resentment still smoldered, fostered adroitly by a few petty chiefs and malcontents. Into this hotbed of trouble, Flavius Rufus was sending a party of legionaries to supervise a levy of men being sent to work in the Imperial lead mines in the hills.\n\nImperial policy did not admit of a young officer being stationed in the Legion where his father held a post as important as Prefect. So Gaius now held the post of a military tribune in the Valeria Victrix legion at Glevum, and, despite his British half-blood, from his childhood he had undergone the severe discipline of a Roman soldier's son." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The elder Macellius had sought no favors for his only son as yet. But Gaius had taken a slight wound in the leg during a border skirmish; before he had quite recovered, a fever had sent him home to Deva, with permission to convalesce there before returning to his post. Recovered, he was restless in his father's house; the chance to go with the levy to the mines had seemed nothing but a pleasant holiday.\n\nThe trip had been largely uneventful; after the sullen levies had been marched away, Gaius, with a fortnight of his leave yet to run, had accepted the invitation of Clotinus Albus, seconded by the daughter's immodest glances, to stay fora few days and enjoy some hunting. Clotinus was adept at this too and-Gaius knew-had been pleased at the thought of offering hospitality to the son of a Roman official. Gaius had shrugged, enjoyed the hunting, which was excellent, and told Clotinus's daughter quite a number of pleasant lies, which was excellent too. Just the day before, he had killed a deer in these same woods, proving himself as adept with the light spear as these Britons with their own weapons; but now...\n\nSprawled in the filth of the pit, Gaius had poured out despairing curses on the timorous slave who had offered to show him a shortcut from Clotinus's home to the Roman road that led straight, or so he said, to Deva; on his own folly in letting the simpleton drive the chariot; on the hare, or whatever it was that had dashed in front of him and frightened the horses; on the ill-trained animals themselves, and on the fool who had let them bolt; and on the off-guard moment in which he had lost his balance and been thrown, half stunned, to the ground." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Stunned, yes, but if he had not been half out of his mind from the fall, he'd have had sense enough to stay where he'd fallen; even such a fool as the driver must sooner or later have regained control of his horses and comeback for him." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Even more than this he cursed his own folly in trying to find his own way through the forest and for leaving the path. He must have wandered along way.\n\nHe must have been still dazed from the earlier fall, but he remembered with sickening clarity the sudden slip, the slither of the leaves and branches as the deadfall gave way, and then the fall, driving the stake through his shoulder with a force that had deprived him of consciousness for some minutes. The afternoon was getting on before he had recovered enough to take stock of his injuries. A second stake had torn the calf of his leg, ripping open his old wound; not a serious injury, but he had struck his ankle so hard that it had swollen to the size of his thigh; it was broken-or felt like it at least. Gaius, unwounded, was as agile as a cat and would have been out in moments; but now he was too weak and dazed to move.\n\nHe knew that if he didn't bleed to death before nightfall, the smell of blood would certainly attract wild beasts who would finish him off. He tried to stave off memories of his nurse's tales of worse things that scent might bring.\n\nThe damp chill was seeping through his whole body; he had shouted himself hoarse. Now, if he had to die he'd do it with Roman dignity. He huddled a fold of his blood-soaked cloak around his face, then, his heart pounding wildly, dragged himself upright; for he had heard voices.\n\nGaius put all his failing strength into a cry, half shriek, half howl; he was ashamed of the inhuman sound moments after it left his throat, and he struggled to add some more human plea, but nothing would come. He clutched atone of the stakes, but managed only to pull himself to his knee and lean against the dirt wall." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fora momenta last ray of sunlight blinded him. He blinked, and saw a girl's head framed in light above him.\n\n\"Great Mother!\" she cried out in a clear voice. \"How in the name of any god did you manage to fall down there? Did you not seethe warning marks they put on the trees?\"\n\nGaius could not manage a word; the young woman had addressed him in an exceptionally pure dialect that was not altogether familiar. Of course, they would be Ordovici tribesmen here. He had to think a moment to turn it into the Silure patois of his mother.\n\nBefore he could answer, a second feminine voice, this one richer and somehow stronger, exclaimed, \"Lack-wit, we ought to leave him therefor wolf bait!\" Another face appeared beside the first one, so like it that fora moment he wondered if his vision was playing tricks on him.\n\n\"Here, grab my hand and I think, between the two of us, we can get you out,\" she said. \"Eilan, help me!\" A woman's hand, slender and white, reached down to him; Gaius put up his serviceable hand, but could not close it. \"What's the matter? Are you hurt?\" the girl asked more gently.\n\nBefore Gaius could answer, the other-Gaius could see nothing about her except that she was young-bent over to see for herself.\n\n\"Oh, I see now-Dieda, he is bleeding! Run and bring Cynric to pull him out of there.\"\n\nRelief washed over Gaius so powerfully that consciousness nearly left him, and he slumped back down, whimpering as the movement jarred his wounds.\n\n\"You must not faint,\" came the clear voice above him. \"Let my words be a rope to bind you to life, do you hear?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I hear you,\" he whispered. \"Keep talking tome.\"\n\nPerhaps it was because rescue was coming that he could allow himself to feel, but his wounds were beginning to hurt very badly. Gaius could hear the girl's voice above him, though the words no longer made sense to him. They rippled like the murmur of a stream, bearing his mind beyond the pain. The world darkened; Gaius realized that it was daylight and not his sight that had failed him only when he saw the flicker of torchlight on the trees.\n\nThe girl's face disappeared and he heard her call, \"Father, there's a man caught in the old boar pit.\"\n\n\"We'll get him out then,\" a deeper voice replied. \"Hmm...\" Gaius sensed movement above him. \"This seems a job fora stretcher. Cynric, you had better go down and see.\"\n\nThe next momenta young man had scrambled down the sides of the pit. He looked Gaius over and asked pleasantly, \"What were you thinking about? It must take real wit to fall in there when everyone around knows it's been there thirty years!\"\n\nMustering the scraps of his pride, Gaius started to say that if the fellow got him out he would be fitly rewarded, then was glad he had not spoken. As his eyes gradually adjusted to the torchlight, the young Roman realized that his rescuer was about his own age, not much over eighteen, but he was a young giant of a man. His fair hair curled loosely about his shoulders, and his face, still beardless, looked as gay and calm as if rescuing half-dead strangers was all in a day's work. He wore a tunic of checked cloth and trews of finely dyed leather; his embroidered wool cloak was fastened with a gold pin bearing a stylized raven done in red enamel. These were the clothes of a man of noble house, but not one of those who welcomed their conquerors and aped the manners of Rome." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius said simply, \"I'm a stranger here; I don't know your markings,\" in the language of the tribes.\n\n\"Well, don't worry about it; let's get you out and then we can talk about how you came to fall in.\" The young man slid his arm beneath Gaius's waist, supporting the young Roman as easily as if he were a child.\n\n\"We dug that pit for boars and bears and Romans,\" he remarked tranquilly. \"Just bad luck you got caught in it.\" He looked up at the pit top and said, \"Letdown your mantle, Dieda; it will be easier than finding something fora stretcher. His own cloak's all stiff with blood.\"\n\nWhen the mantle had been letdown, the boy knotted it around Gaius's waist, then, fastening the other end about his own, he set his foot on the lowest of the stakes, and said, \"Yell if I hurt you; I've hauled out bears like this, but they were dead and couldn't complain.\"\n\nGaius set his teeth and hung on, almost fainting with the pain when his swollen ankle struck a projecting root. Someone at the top leaned over and grabbed his hands and at last he struggled over the edge, then lay there just breathing fora moment before he had strength to open his eyes.\n\nAn older man was leaning over him. Gently he pulled away Gaius's fouled and blood-smeared cloak and whistled.\n\n\"Some god must love you, stranger; a few inches lower and that stake would have gone into your lungs. Cynric, girls, look at that,\" he went on. \"Where the shoulder is still bleeding, the blood is dark and slow, so it is returning to the heart; if it were coming from the heart it would be bright red and spurting forth; and he would probably have bled to death before we found him.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The blond boy and the two girls bent over, one after the other, to see. Gaius lay silent. A dreadful suspicion had begun to steal over him. He had already abandoned all thought of identifying himself and asking them to take him to the house of Clotinus Albus in return fora substantial reward. Now he knew that only the old British tunic he had put on that morning for traveling had saved him. The offhand medical expertise of that speech told him that he was in the presence of a Druid. Then someone lifted him, and the world darkened and disappeared.\n\nGaius awakened to firelight and the face of a girl looking down at him. Fora moment her features seemed to swim in a fiery halo. She was young and her face was fair, but the eyes were an odd shade between hazel and grey; wide-spaced under pale lashes. Her mouth was dimpled, but so grave that it looked older than the rest of her; her hair was as light as her lashes, almost colorless except where the firelight lay red across it. One of her hands moved across his face and he felt it cool; she had been bathing his face in water.\n\nHe looked for what seemed along time, until her features were drawn forever on his memory. Then someone said, \"That's enough, Eilan, I think he's awake,\" and the girl withdrew.\n\nEilan... He had heard the name before. Had it been in some dream? She was lovely.\n\nGaius struggled to see, and realized that he was lying in a bench bed built into the wall. He looked about him, trying to understand where he was. Cynric, the young man who had drawn him out of the pit, and the old Druid whose name he did not know, were standing beside him. He was lying in a wood-framed roundhouse builtin the old Celtic style, with smoothed logs radiating out from the high peak of the roof to the low wall. He had not been in such a house since he was a little child, when his mother had taken him to visit her kin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The floor was thickly strewn with rushes; the wall of woven hazel withies was chinked and plastered with white-washed clay, and the partitions between the bed boxes were made of wicker as well. A great flap of leather curtained the entrance instead of a door. To lie in this place made him feel very young, as if all the intervening years of Roman training had been stripped away.\n\nHis gaze moved slowly around the house and back to the girl. Her dress was of red-brown linen and she held a copper basin in her hand; she was tall, but younger than he had thought, her body still straight as a child's beneath the folds of her gown. Light from the central hearth behind her glowed in her fair hair.\n\nThe firelight also showed him the older man, the Druid. Gaius shifted his head a little and looked at him from beneath his lashes. The Druids were learned men among the Britons, but he had been told all his life that they were fanatics. To find himself in a Druid's house was like waking up in a wolf's lair, and Gaius did not mind admitting that he was afraid.\n\nAt least when he had heard the old man calmly discoursing on the circulation of the blood, a thing he had heard from his father's Greek physician was a teaching of the healer-priests of the highest rank, he had the sense to conceal his Roman identity.\n\nNot that these folk made any secret of who they were. \"We dug that pit for boars and bears and Romans,\" the young man had said quite casually. This should have told him at once that he was a good long way outside the little protected circle of Roman domination. Yet he was no more than a day's ride from the Legion post at Deva!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But if he was in the hands of the enemy, at least they were treating him well. The clothes the girl wore were well made; the copper basin she carried was beautifully worked-no doubt it had come from one of the southern markets.\n\nRushlights of reed dipped in tallow burned in hanging bowls; the couch where he lay was covered with linen, the straw mattress smelled of sweet herbs. It was heavenly warm after the chill of the pit. Then the old man who had directed his rescue came and sat down beside him, and for the first time Gaius got a good look at his rescuer.\n\nHe was a big and powerful man, with shoulders strong enough to throw down a bull. His face was rough-cast on his skull, as if carelessly chiseled out of stone, and his eyes were light grey and cold. His hair was liberally sprinkled with grey; Gaius thought he was around the age of his own father, about fifty.\n\n\"You had a remarkably narrow escape, young man,\" the Druid said. Gaius had the impression that lecturing came very naturally to him. \"Next time keep your eyes open. I'll have a look at that shoulder in a minute. Eilan-\" He beckoned to the girl and gave her instructions in a low voice.\n\nShe went away and Gaius asked, \"To whom do I owe my life, Honored One?\" He had never thought to show respect to a Druid. Gaius, like everyone else, had been brought upon Caesar's old horror stories of human sacrifice, and tales of the wars which had been fought to subdue the Druidic cult in Britain and in Gaul. Nowadays those who remained were pretty well controlled by Roman edicts, but they could be as much trouble as the Christians. The difference was that while the Christians spread dissension in the cities and refused to worship the Emperor, the Druids could incite even conquered peoples to bloody war." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Still, there was something about this man that commanded respect.\n\n\"My name is Bendeigid,\" the Druid said, but he did not question Gaius, and the young Roman remembered hearing his mother's people say that among the Celts a guest was still sacred, at least outside Roman lands. A man's worst enemy might claim food and shelter and depart unquestioned if he chose. Gaius breathed a little freer at the reprieve; this was one place it might be safer-and wiser-to claim hospitality as a guest than to exact it as the right of a conqueror.\n\nThe girl Eilan came into the alcove again, carrying a small chest of oakwood bound with iron, and a drinking horn. She said timidly, \"I hope this is the right one.\"\n\nHer father nodded to her brusquely, took the chest, and gestured to her to give the horn to Gaius. He reached for it and found to his surprise that his fingers had not the strength to close.\n\nThe Druid said, \"Drink that,\" with the unmistakable manner of a man who is accustomed to giving orders and to having them obeyed. He added after a minute, \"You'll need it by the time we get through with you.\" He sounded pleasant enough; but Gaius had begun to be frightened.\n\nBendeigid gestured to the girl and she came back to Gaius's bedside.\n\nShe smiled, tasted a few drops in the traditional gesture of hospitality, then held the horn to his lips. Gaius tried to raise himself a little but his muscles would not obey him. With a compassionate cry, Eilan lifted his head in the curve of her arm so that he could drink.\n\nThe young Roman sipped at the cup; it was strong mead, to which some bitter, obviously medicinal spice had been added." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You had almost won through to the Land of Youth, stranger, but you will not die,\" she murmured." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I saw you in a dream, but you were older-and with a little boy by your side.\"\n\nHe looked up at her, already too deliciously drowsy to find that disturbing. Young as she was, lying against her breast was like being back in his mother's arms. Now, when he was in pain, he could almost remember her, and his eyes stung with tears. He was vaguely aware when the old Druid cutaway his tunic and the old Druid and the young man Cynric washed his wounds with something that stung-but not any worse than the stuff old Manlius had put on his leg when he hurt it before. They smeared his leg with something sticky and stinging, and bound it tightly with strips of linen. Then they moved the swollen ankle, and he watched without much interest as somebody said, \"Nothing much wrong here-not even broken.\"\n\nBut he snapped out of the dreamy daze when Cynric said, \"Brace yourself, youngster; that stake was filthy, but I think we can save the arm, if we burn it out.\"\n\n\"Eilan,\" the old man commanded curtly, \"get out of here; this is nothing fora young girl to see.\"\n\n\"I'll hold him, Eilan,\" Cynric said. \"You can go.\"\n\n\"I will stay, Father. Maybe I can help.\" Her hand closed over Gaius's, and the old man growled, \"Do as you like, then, but don't scream or faint.\"\n\nThe next minute Gaius felt strong hands-Cynric's?-holding him flat and hard. Eilan's hand was still twined in his, but he felt it quiver a little; he turned his head away, closing his eyes and grinding his teeth lest some shameful cry should escape him. He smelled the approach of the heated iron, and then a frightful agony ripped through his whole body." }, { "from": "human", "value": "A scream contorted his lips, he felt it escape as a gagging grunt; then the rough touch released him and he felt only the girl's soft hands." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When he could open his eyes, he saw the Druid looking down at him, a bleak smile tight around the greying beard. Cynric, who was still bent over him, was very white; Gaius had seen that look on youngsters in his own command after their first battle.\n\n\"Well, you're certainly no coward, lad,\" the youth said in a choked voice.\n\n\"Thanks,\" Gaius said absurdly. And fainted." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When Gaius came to himself again, feeling as if he had been unconscious fora longtime, the rushlights had burned down. Only a little light came from the coals on the hearth, and by it he could just make out the girl Eilan seated beside him nearly asleep. He felt tired, and his arm throbbed and he was thirsty. He could hear women's voices not faraway. His shoulder was done up in thick wrappings of linen-he felt as if he had been swaddled like a newborn babe. The injured shoulder was slick with some greasy salve and the linen smelled of fat and balsam.\n\nThe girl sat silent beside him on a little three-legged stool, as pale and slender as a young birch, her hair combed away from her temples, waving a little; it was too fine in texture to lie perfectly flat. She had a gilt chain around her neck with some sort of amulet. These Briton girls matured late, Gaius knew; she might be as old as fifteen. She was hardly a woman, but just as certainly not a child.\n\nThere was a clatter as if someone had dropped a pail and a young voice yelled, \"Then you can go and milk them yourself if you've a mind!\"\n\n\"And what's to do with the byre-woman?\" a woman's voice asked sharply.\n\n\"Oh, wailing and weeping like the banshee because those Roman butchers came and marched her man off with the levies, and she left with three babes,\" said the first voice, \"and now my Rhodri has gone off after them.\"\n\n\"The curse of Tanarus on all Romans-\" began a voice Gaius recognized as Cynric's, but the older woman's voice cut him short." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hush now. Mairi, put the dishes on the table, don't stand here shouting at the boys. I'll go and speak with the poor woman-tell her she can bring the little ones hereto the house-but someone must milk the cows this night, even if the Romans carry off every man in Britain.\"\n\n\"You are good, Foster Mother,\" Cynric said, and the voices subsided into a hum again. The girl looked toward Gaius and rose from her stool.\n\n\"Oh, you are awake,\" she said. \"Are you hungry?\"\n\n\"I could devour a horse and chariot and chase the driver halfway to Venta,\" Gaius said gravely, and she stared a moment before her eyes widened and she giggled.\n\n\"I'll go and see if there is a horse and chariot in the cookhouse,\" she said, laughing, and then the light behind her broadened and a lady stood in the doorway. Fora moment he was astonished at the brightness; for there was sunlight in the room.\n\n\"What is it, the next day?\" he blurted without thinking, and the lady laughed, turned aside and drew the horsehide curtain wide, catching it on a hook and extinguishing the guttering rushlight in one easy motion.\n\n\"Eilan would not let us disturb you even to eat,\" she said. \"She insisted that rest would do you more good than food. I suppose she was right; but you must be very hungry now. I am sorry I was not hereto welcome you to our house; I was out attending to a sick woman in one of our clanholds. I hope Eilan has been looking after you properly.\"\n\n\"Oh, very,\" said Gaius. He blinked, for something in her manner had reminded him painfully of his mother." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The lady looked down at him. She was beautiful, this Briton woman, and so like the girl that the relationship was obvious, even before the girl said, \"Mother-\" and stopped, too shy to continue. The woman, like the girl, had fair hair and dark, hazel-grey eyes. She looked as if she had been working with her maids, for there was a smear of flour on her fine woolen tunic, but the shift that showed beneath it was white, finer linen than he had yet seen in Britain, edged with embroidery. Her shoes were a good dyed leather, and fine fibulae of spiraled gold fastened the gown.\n\n\"I hope that you are feeling better,\" she said graciously.\n\nGaius raised himself on his good arm. \"Much better, lady,\" he said, \"and eternally grateful to you and yours.\"\n\nShe made a little gesture of dismissal. \"Do you come from Deva?\"\n\n\"I have been visiting near there,\" he answered. The Latin flavor of his speech would be explained if she thought he came from a Roman town.\n\n\"Since you are awake, I'll send Cynric to help you bathe and dress.\"\n\n\"It will be good to wash,\" said Gaius, pulling up the blanket as he realized that he was naked except for his bandaging.\n\nThe woman followed his gaze and said, \"He'll find you some clothes; they maybe too large for you, but they'll do for the moment. If you'd rather lie here and rest, you can; but you're welcome to join us if you feel able.\"\n\nGaius thought fora moment. Every muscle in his body felt as if he had been beaten with cudgels; on the other hand, he could not help feeling curious about this household, and he must not appear to scorn their society. He had believed that the Britons who had not allied with Rome were mostly savages, but there was nothing primitive about this establishment." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I will join you with pleasure,\" he said, and rubbed a hand across his face, dismayed at the untidy stubble. \"But I would like to wash-and perhaps shave.\"\n\n\"I don't think you should put yourself to the trouble of shaving-certainly not for us,\" she said, \"but Cynric will help you to wash. Eilan, find your brother and tell him he's needed.\"\n\nThe girl slipped away. The lady turned to follow, then looked at him, seeing him more clearly in the light of the recessed cubicle. Her eyes softened from a smile of courtesy to one that reminded him of the way his own mother had looked at him, long ago. \"Why,\" she said, \"you're nothing but a boy.\"\n\nFora moment Gaius felt stung by the words-he had done a man's work for three years-but before he could frame any courteous answer, a mocking young voice said, \"Yes, and if he is a boy, Stepmother, I am a babe in long clothes. Well, stumble-foot, are you ready to go tumbling in some more bear pits?\"\n\nCynric came through the door. Once more Gaius was struck by how tall he was, but except for his great height he too was still a youth; though he would have made two of Gaius. He laughed. \"Well,\" he said, \"you look a little less ready to be carted away by the old man who kills off fools and drunks. Let me look at your leg and we'll see if you're fit to set your foot to the ground.\" For all his size, his hands were gentle as he examined the hurt leg, and when he was finished he laughed again.\n\n\"We should all have legs so fit to walk! It's mostly a bad bump; what did you do, knock it on a stake? I thought so. Anyone less lucky would have broken it in three places and gone limping for life; but I think you'll be all right. The shoulder's another thing; you won't befit to travel for seven days or so.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Gaius struggled upright." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I must,\" he said. \"I must be in Deva in four days.\" His leave would be ended...\n\n\"I tell you, if you're in Deva in four days, your friends will bury you there,\" said Cynric. \"Even I know that much. Oh, by the way\"-he took on a deliberate stance and repeated as if reciting a lesson-\"Bendeigid sends his greetings to the guest in his house, and bids him recover as best he may; he regrets that necessity keeps him absent this day and night, but he will rejoice to see you on his return.\" He added, \"It would take a braver man than I am to face him and tell him you wouldn't accept his hospitality.\"\n\n\"Your father is most kind,\" Gaius replied.\n\nHe might as well rest. There was nothing he could do. He could hardly mention Clotinus. What happened next all depended on that fool who drove the chariot; if he went back and dutifully reported that the Prefect's son had been thrown and maybe killed, they'd already be combing the woods for his body. On the other hand, if the halfwit lied, or took this opportunity to runaway to some village not under Roman rule-and there were plenty of them, even this close to Deva-well, it was anyone's guess. He might not be missed until Macellius Severus began asking questions about his son.\n\nCynric was bending over a chest at the foot of the bed; he drew out a shirt and surveyed it with a mixture of amusement and dismay. \"Those rags you were wearing are only fit to scarecrows,\" he said. \"I'll set the girls to clean and mend them, if it can be done; they haven't much else to do in this weather. But you'd look like a maid in along gown in this.\" He flung it down. \"I'll go and borrow something nearer your size.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He went away, and Gaius fumbled in the remnants of clothing that lay folded beside the bed for the purse on the leather belt they had cutoff him. Everything was untouched as far as he could make out. A few of the tin squares that still passed current for coin outside the Roman towns, a clasp, a folding knife, one or two small rings and a few other trinkets he had not wanted to wear hunting-ah yes, here it was. Much good it had done him! He glanced briefly at the scrap of parchment with the Prefect's seal; his safe-conduct would be no good to him here, if it did not in fact endanger him; but when he left here, he would need it to travel.\n\nSwiftly he fumbled it back into the pouch. Had they seen the signet ring? He started to slip it off his finger and put it into the purse; but then Cynric, some clothes over his arm, came back into the room. Gaius felt almost guilty; it looked as if he was examining his possessions to see if anything had been stolen.\n\nHe said, \"I think the seal of the ring became loosened when I fell,\" and worked the green stone back and forth a little. \"I was afraid it might come out if I wore it.\"\n\n\"Roman work,\" said Cynric, looking at it. \"What does it say?\"\n\nIt bore only his initials and the arms of the Legion but he was proud of the ring, for Macellius had sent to Londinium and ordered it from a seal-cutter when he took up his commission; but Gaius said, \"I don't know; it was a gift.\"\n\n\"The design is Roman,\" said Cynric, scowling. \"The Romans have strewn their rubbish from hereto Caledonia.\" He added scornfully, \"There's no telling whence it came.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Something in Cynric's manner told Gaius he stood in more deadly danger now than in the pit. The Druid himself, Bendeigid, would never violate hospitality; he knew that from tales his mother and his nurse had told him. But there was no telling what this young hothead would do.\n\nOn an impulse, he took one of the smaller rings from his pouch.\n\n\"My life I owe to you and to your father,\" he said. \"Will you accept this as a gift from me? It is not costly, but it may serve to remind you of a good deed done.\"\n\nCynric took the ring from his hand; it was too small for any but his smallest finger. \"Cynric, son of Bendeigid the Druid, thanks you, stranger,\" he said. \"I know no name by which I may return thanks...\"\n\nIt was about as broad a hint as good manners permitted, and Gaius could not in courtesy ignore it. He would have given the name of his mother's brother; but the name of the Silure chieftain who had given his sister to a Roman might have made its way into even this corner of Britain. A small breach of truth was better than a major one of manners.\n\n\"My mother called me Gawen,\" he said finally. This much at least was true, for Gaius, his Roman name, had been foreign to her tongue. \"I was born in Venta Silurum, to the south, of no lineage you would know.\"\n\nCynric thought about this fora moment, twisting the ring on his little finger. Then a curious light of comprehension dawned in his face. He said, gazing intently at Gaius, \"Do ravens fly at midnight?\"\n\nGaius was no less astonished by the question than by Cynric's manner. Fora moment he wondered if the young man were simple; then he answered carelessly, \"I'm afraid you have the better of me in woodcraft; I never knew any that did.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He glanced down at Cynric's hands, saw the fingers were enlaced in a peculiar manner, and began to understand. This must be the sign of one of the many secret societies, mostly religious like the cults of Mithras or the Nazarene. Were these people Christians? No, their sign was a fish or some such, not a raven.\n\nWell, nothing could interest him less, and his expression must have showed it. The young Briton's face changed slightly, and he said hastily, \"I see I have made a mistake-\" and turned away. \"Here, I think these will fit you; I borrowed them from my sister Mairi, they're her husband's. Come, I'll help you to the bathhouse and get father's razor for you if you want to shave-though you're old enough, I would think, to grow a beard. Careful-don't put all your weight on that foot or you'll fall on the floor.\"\n\nBathed, shaved and, with Cynric's help, dressed in a clean tunic and the loose breeches the Britons wore, Gaius felt able to getup and hobble. His arm throbbed and burned, and his leg ached in several places, but he could have been much worse, and he knew that his muscles would stiffen if he remained in bed. Even so, he leaned gratefully on Cynric's arm as the taller boy guided his steps across the yard to the long feasting hall.\n\nA table of hewn boards ran down the center, with heavy benches to either side. Warmth was provided by a hearth at either end of the hall. Near these a mixed number of men and women and even a few children were assembling. Heavily bearded men in roughly woven smocks talked to one another in a dialect so crude Gaius could not understand a word." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Although his tutor had taught him that the Latin familia originally meant all who shared living quarters: master, children, freedmen, and slaves, the Romans now kept their serving folk apart from the family. Cynric mistook his look of mild distaste for weakness, and hastened to lead him to a cushioned seat at the upper end of the long room.\n\nHere, a little apart from the mixed crew at the lower end of the table, the lady of the house was seated on a wide chair. Nearby, another seat, covered with a bearskin, was evidently reserved for the master. Other wide settles and benches were occupied by several young men and women whose finer garments and well-bred manners proclaimed them children or fosterlings of the household, or perhaps upper servants. The lady of the house nodded at the boys but did not interrupt her conversation with an old man seated near the hearth, tall and gaunt as an elderly ghost, with grey hair curled and cut in almost foppish fashion. His beard was grey, too, and elaborately curled. Green eyes twinkled in the old man's face; his long tunic was of snowy white, embroidered lavishly, and the small wire-strung harp by his side was trimmed and ornamented with gold.\n\nA bard! But that was not so surprising in a Druid's hall. It needed only a soothsayer to have all of the three classes of Druid that Caesar had described represented here. But a diviner might have seen through the young Roman's disguise. As it was, the old bard favored Gaius with along glance that made the skin prickle along his backbone before the old man turned to his hostess again.\n\nCynric said in an undertone, \"You know my stepmother Rheis; this is the bard Ardanos, I call him grandfather, for he is my foster mother's father; I am an orphan.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This silenced Gaius completely, for he had heard of Ardanos in the headquarters of the Legion. He was believed to be a powerful Druid, perhaps the chief of those who remained in the British Isles. Although at first glance Ardanos looked like any other harper about to play, his every gesture compelled the eye. Not for the first time, Gaius wondered how he would escape with a whole skin.\n\nHe was glad to drop onto a bench near the hearth and be ignored. Although it was still bright outside, he felt a chill, and welcomed the heat of the fire. It had been along time since he had needed to remember the ways of his mother's kin. He hoped he would not make a mistake that would betray him.\n\nCynric went on, \"My sister Eilan you know; beside her is my mother's sister Dieda.\" Eilan was sitting near Rheis. Cynric laughed at Gaius's astonishment as next to Eilan he saw another girl in green linen, leaning against the back of her chair and listening to the old bard. For just a moment she seemed as like to Eilan as one oak leaf to another; then he saw that the girl Cynric had named Dieda was a little older, and that she had blue eyes, where Eilan's were almost grey. Vaguely he remembered seeing two faces looking down at him from the edge of the boar pit, but he had thought that delirium.\n\n\"There are really two of them; they are more alike than twins, are they not?\"\n\nIt was true, but Gaius was suddenly certain that the sureness with which he had recognized Eilan would always remain with him. All his life he would be one of the few who could tell the two women apart as if by instinct. A fragment of memory bound up with pain and fire came to him-Eilan had dreamed about him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "And now that he considered them, he could see that they were unlike in many small ways too; Dieda was a little taller, and her hair lay flat and smooth against her forehead while Eilan's escaped from its binding in a tiny halo of curls." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dieda's face was smooth and pale and perfect, she looked solemn; Eilan looked rosy, as if her face had caught the sunlight and held it there.\n\nThey seemed very different to him, and their voices were altogether so. Dieda said something carelessly courteous; her voice was rich and musical, without Eilan's shyness or her laughter.\n\n\"So you are the simpleton who goes about tumbling into boar pits?\" Dieda said, gravely. \"From what Cynric told me I expected to see some moon-struck lout, but you seem reasonably civilized.\"\n\nGaius nodded noncommittally; it was strange to see so young a girl with so much cool reserve. He had warmed at once to Eilan, but somehow, though there seemed no reason she should care, he fancied that this one did not like him.\n\nCynric nodded and turned to a young woman who had passed by with a jug of milk. \"Mairi, our guest is named Gawen, if you have not turned dairywoman in such earnest that you cannot even greet him.\" The older woman bowed her head in polite acknowledgment, but did not reply. As she turned he could see that she was not plump, but exceedingly pregnant. She looked as if she had been crying.\n\n\"And that's all of us, except for my baby sister Senara,\" Cynric said. This was a little girl of six or seven, with fair hairlike Eilan's. She looked out shyly from behind Mairi's skirt and then grew bolder, saying, \"Eilan did not come to bed with meat all; Mother said she sat by you all nightlong.\"\n\n\"Then I am honored by her kindness,\" Gaius said, laughing, \"but I have little success with women if the prettiest of them pays me no heed. Why were you not anxious to watch by me, little one?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She was around-faced, rosy little thing, and reminded him of his own sister, who had not long survived his mother's death three years ago. He drew the child to him with his good arm and she crept upon the seat beside him where she rested contentedly. Later she insisted on sharing his plate when the older girls, Mairi and Dieda, brought them food, and Gaius laughed and humored her.\n\nCynric and Dieda were talking together in low tones. Gaius tried to deal with his food, but his bandaged arm made it difficult. Eilan saw the trouble he was having and came and sat on his other side. With a little sharp knife she wore at her belt, she unobtrusively cutup his food into morsels that he could manage, and told the child, in a quiet voice that did not carry beyond their own ears, not to bother their guest. That done, Eilan's shyness returned. She went to the fireplace without speaking, and Gaius was content to watch her.\n\nOne of the servants brought a child about a year old to Mairi, and the young woman, without the slightest self-consciousness, unfastened her dress and sat nursing it, chatting with Cynric. She glanced at Gaius with innocent curiosity, saying, \"Now I can see why you sent to borrow my husband's other tunic and breeches. He has gone off to-\" She broke off, frowning. \"I did not think he would mind loaning his gear to a guest, though he may have a word to say tome if he finds I gave his dry clothes away while he was shivering in the forest. Tell me, Gawen, are all the Silures as short as you, like one of the little people, or did some Roman creep into your grandmother's bed one night?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Any answer Gaius might have made was drowned in laughter all along the table. Gaius remembered that the Britons were given to grosser jesting than a Roman of good breeding would think tasteful. It was true that the Silures were small for Britons, dark and fine-boned compared to the big, fair-skinned men of the Belgic tribes. Cynric and Eilan and Dieda and Rheis were of that type. But Gaius's few memories of his uncle who ruled the Silures were of a man of power despite his lack of height, a man quick to fury or laughter, with tattooed dragons coiling up his arms.\n\nAn answer came to him which he would not have dared to make in Roman company, but which might serve here. \"As to that, I cannot say, Mistress Mairi, but they fit me well enough-and you were not unwilling I should fill them.\"\n\nCynric threw back his head with a great bass roar of laughter, taken up by all the others. Even the quiet Rheis smiled a little, but quickly sobered, as if she knew something Mairi did not. Fora moment it seemed as if she were forcing herself to congeniality. She turned to Ardanos.\n\n\"Father, shall we have some music?\"\n\nArdanos picked up the harp and looked sharply at Gaius. The younger man had a sudden conviction that the old Druid knew perfectly well what-and perhaps who-he was. But how could he? Gaius was dark-haired like his father, but the Silures, like some of the other races of the West and South, were also known for their dark and curly hair. He was almost sure he had never set eyes on the old man before. He told himself he was imagining things-probably that stare of supposed recognition had been only short-sightedness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The old Druid picked up the harp, struck a chord or two, then put it aside. \"I'm in no mood for singing,\" he said, looking atone of the fair-haired girls. \"Dieda, my child, will you sing for us?\"\n\nEilan dimpled and said, \"I am always at your service, Grandfather, but you don't really want to hear me sing, do you?\"\n\nArdanos laughed in chagrin. \"Ah, I've done it again, Eilan, it is you? I swear you and Dieda always try to confuse me. As if anyone could tell you apart until you open your mouths!\"\n\nRheis said gently, \"I cannot see they areas much alike as that, Father. Of course, one is my sister and one my daughter, but tome they seem hardly alike at all. Are you sure it is not the failing of your eyesight?\"\n\n\"No, I always confuse them until one of them begins to sing,\" protested the Druid. \"No one could mistake one for the other then.\"\n\nEilan said, \"You need not make a face like a sour crab apple, Grandfather, I have not been apprenticed as a bard!\" Then they fell silent as, unaccompanied, Dieda began to sing:\n\n\"A bird in the air told a riddle tome;\n\nA fish is a bird that swims in the sea,\n\nA bird is a fish that swims in the air.\"\n\nUndercover of the song, Rheis beckoned Mairi to her, and said, \"Have the Romans taken anyone but the byre-woman's man?\"\n\n\"Not that I know of, Mother, but Rhodri went off after them before I could ask,\" Mairi said, shaking her head. \"He said that most of the other levies were made to the north.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That fat hog Caradac! Or I should say Clotinus, as the Romans call him!\" Cynric burst out. \"If Old Bedbugs would stand with us the Romans would never dare send their Legions into this part of the country-but as long as everyone goes either over to the Romans or to the Caledonians-\"\n\n\"Be still!\" Dieda said sharply, breaking off her song. \"You'll windup having to go north yourself-\"\n\nRheis said gently, \"Hush, children, these family matters will not interest our guest.\" But Gaius could tell that what she meant was, \"It isn't safe to talk like this with a stranger in the house.\"\n\nArdanos said calmly, \"This part of the country is quieter than it has been for years. The Romans think us tamed, fit only to be milked for taxes. But the best of their troops are off trying to conquer the Novantae-and as a result there is less order here.\"\n\n\"Such order as that we could well spare,\" Cynric said sharply, but Ardanos glared at him and he subsided.\n\nGaius leaned a little forward into the firelight. He suspected that he would almost certainly do better to remain silent, but he was curious.\n\n\"I was in Deva lately,\" he said slowly. \"There was talk there that the Emperor may call Agricola back from Alba despite his victories. They say there is no profit in spending men and supplies to hold such a barren land.\"\n\n\"We could hardly be so lucky,\" Dieda said, and laughed in contempt. \"The Romans may indeed vomit up what they have eaten to make room in their bellies for more; but no Roman ever ceded an inch of conquered land!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius opened his mouth; then thought better of it. Rheis said, \"Is Agricola so formidable? Could he really conquer Britannia all the way to the northern sea?\"\n\nArdanos grimaced. \"The gossip in Deva may have some truth in it; between the wolves and the wild men I doubt that even Roman tax farmers could squeeze out much profit there.\"\n\nDieda looked at Gaius with a sudden malice. \"You who have lived among Romans,\" she said, \"perhaps you can tell us why they are carrying off our men and what will happen to them?\"\n\n\"The provincial senators pay their taxes with the men of the levy. I suppose they will take them to the lead mines in the Mendip hills,\" he said reluctantly, \"and I know not what will befall them there.\"\n\nBut he did know. The whip and poor feeding would be used to break their spirit, and the gelder's knife to unman any who continued to resist. Those who survived the march would beset to work in the mines as long as they lived. A flicker of triumph in Dieda's eyes told him she had guessed he knew more than he would say. He winced as Mairi began to weep. He had never met-or ever thought he would-anyone who could be subject to the levies.\n\n\"Can't something be done?\" she cried.\n\n\"Not this year,\" the old man answered.\n\n\"Not much anyone can do about it,\" Gaius said defensively, \"but you can't deny that the mines have enriched all Britain-\"\n\n\"We can live without such enrichment,\" Cynric said wrathfully. \"Rome enriches at the top, and enslaves at the bottom.\"\n\n\"It is not only Romans who have become wealthy-\" Gaius began." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You mean traitors like Clotinus?\"\n\nRheis leaned forward as if to terminate a conversation that had become awkward, but Cynric would not be stopped.\n\n\"You who have lived among Romans,\" Cynric said angrily, \"do you know how Clotinus the White-Washed made his fortune? He guided the Legions to Mona, or are you too much a Roman to remember that once there was a holy place there-the Isle of Women-the holiest place in Britain perhaps before Paulinus came?\"\n\n\"I knew only that there was a sanctuary,\" Gaius said neutrally, his neck prickling again with that sense of danger. For the Romans, the destruction of Mona had been overshadowed by the catastrophe of the Iceni rebellion, but he knew better than to discuss Mona in the house of a Druid, especially since Agricola had mopped up whatever resistance might have been left there only last year.\n\n\"Here sits a bard at our own fireside,\" said Cynric, \"who can sing of the women of Mona so that your heart will crack!\"\n\nAlmost simultaneously the Druid said, \"Not tonight, lad,\" and the lady of the house leaned forward. \"Not at my table; it is not a story to be told while guests are trying to eat their dinner,\" she said emphatically.\n\nThe suggestion, thought Gaius, was unpopular-or sufficiently political to make unsafe conversation. But he agreed with the bard's sentiments; he had no wish to hear any story of Roman atrocities right now.\n\nCynric looked sullen fora moment, then said to Gaius in an undertone, \"I will tell you later then. My foster mother may well be right; it is not a tale to be told at the dinner table, nor before children.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We would do better,\" said Rheis, \"to talk about our preparations for the feast of Beltane,\" and Mairi and the girls, as if at a signal, rose from the table. Cynric offered his arm to Gaius, and helped him back to his bed. The young Roman was a good deal more weary than he had realized; every muscle in his body ached, and though he was resolved not to sleep before he had thoroughly thought all this through, he soon found himself drifting off.\n\nIn the next few days, Gaius's injured shoulder swelled, which kept him abed inconsiderable pain-but Eilan, who nursed him devotedly, said that this discomfort was nothing to the illness that could have come from such a dirty stake.\n\nThe only part of the day that was tolerable was when, two or three times a day, Eilan-who seemed to have appointed herself his nurse-brought him his meals and fed him, since he could hardly hold a spoon, let alone cutup meat. He had not been so close to any woman since his mother had died, and had never quite realized how much he had missed that closeness. Whether it was because she was female or because she was of his mother's people, or perhaps from some sympathy of spirit that went beyond either, he found himself truly able to relax with her. In the long hours between her appearances, he had nothing else to think about, and each day, it seemed, he looked forward to seeing her more.\n\nOne morning Cynric and Rheis suggested that it would do him good to get out into the sunshine fora little and try to walk. He hobbled painfully out into the courtyard, where little Senara found him, prattling that she and Eilan were going to the meadow to pick flowers and make garlands for the Beltane festival the next day." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Proceed with the plot in your role as storytelling partner.\nTags: fantasy, historical fantasy, druids\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Forest House\nChapter: 14" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Caillean completed the sentence. \"Older? More dignified? I have been with Lhiannon since she brought me from the western shores of Eriu. I was four-and-tenor thereabouts when we came to the Forest House, and I have been there now for sixteen years.\"\n\n\"Do you know my kinswoman Dieda?\"\n\n\"Certainly I do, but she dwells with the maidens; there are many of us, and we are not all of one order. Now that I see you, I understand-but that is for later. Let me speak now to your sister.\"\n\nEilan led her to Mairi, now so pregnant that she moved with difficulty, and withdrew a little to give them some privacy. She could hardly hear the low murmur as Caillean questioned Mairi at length. There was something soothing in the quiet lilt of the priestess's voice.\n\nEilan could seethe tension leaving Mairi's face, and realized for the first time that her sister had been afraid. She did not flinch as Caillean pressed her belly with her long hands. When she had done, Mairi lay back with a sigh.\n\n\"I think the babe will not be born today, and perhaps not tomorrow. Rest now, lass, for you will need all your strength when the time comes,\" Caillean said soothingly.\n\nWhen Mairi was settled again, Caillean rejoined Eilan near the fire. \"Is it true that her husband has disappeared?\" she asked in an undertone.\n\n\"We fear he was taken by the Romans,\" Eilan replied. \"My father warned me not to mention it to Mairi.\"\n\nFora moment Caillean's gaze went inward. \"Do not, for I fear she will not see him again.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan looked at her in horror. \"You have heard something?\"\n\n\"I have seen the omens, and they bode not well.\"\n\n\"Poor Mairi, poor love. How shall we tell her?\"\n\n\"Say nothing now,\" Caillean counseled. \"I will tell her myself after the birthing, when she will have reason to live for her child.\"\n\nEilan shuddered, for she was fond of Mairi and it seemed to her that the priestess had spoken of death just as she spoke of life, without feeling or regret for either. But she supposed that to a priestess, life and death must mean something quite other than what they meant to Eilan.\n\n\"I hope she has menfolk to care for her children's inheritance,\" Caillean went on.\n\n\"My father has no sons,\" Eilan said. \"But Cynric will do a brother's duty to Mairi if there is need.\"\n\n\"Is he not the son of Bendeigid?\"\n\n\"A foster son only; we were brought up together; he has always been very fond of Mairi. He is away in the North now.\"\n\n\"I have heard of this Cynric,\" Caillean said, and Eilan wondered just how much the priestess did know. \"And indeed your sister will be in need of kin.\"\n\nThat night anew storm came whirling in from the west, and Eilan, waking in the night, heard it beating around the house like a wild thing; when morning came, the trees were still blowing and tossing before the blast. But though a few handfuls of thatch were plucked from the roof, the roundhouse only groaned and shuddered before each new gust of wind, where a more rigid structure might have given way. The rain still fell relentlessly, but Caillean, staring out into the downpour, looked pleased." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There are rumors of raiders from the coast,\" she said when Eilan questioned her. \"If all the ways are flooded, they will not come this far inland.\"\n\n\"Raiders?\" Mairi echoed, looking frightened. But Caillean would not repeat herself, saying only that to name an evil was often to draw it near. By early evening the worst of the wind had blown itself out, and the weather settled to hard, insistent rain, leaving all the world awash with the sound of water, and of springs and cisterns overflowing. Fortunately there was a good supply of woodcut and stacked in ashed near the main house, so they built up a cheery blaze and Caillean unwrapped the small musical instrument she carried swaddled like a child. Eilan had never known a woman to play a harp; she herself had been beaten as a child for touching her grandfather's.\n\n\"Oh, it's true, there are woman bards among us,\" Caillean said, \"though I play only for my own pleasure. I think that Dieda will become one.\"\n\n\"I am not surprised,\" said Eilan a little wistfully. \"She sings beautifully.\"\n\n\"Are you envious, child? There are other gifts than music, you know.\" The priestess frowned at Eilan thoughtfully, then appeared to come to a decision. \"Did you not know she was chosen by mistake for you?\"\n\nEilan stared, remembering all those times during her childhood when she had played at priestess, and the vision that had come to her when Lhiannon's cloak enfolded the other girl.\n\n\"Have you never thought of it, little one?\"\n\nEilan did not reply. Of course, she had dreamed of such a thing fora longtime, but then she had met Gaius. How could she be meant fora priestess if she was capable of such love fora man?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Well, there is no need to make a decision now,\" Caillean said, smiling." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We will talk of this another time.\"\n\nEilan stared at her, and suddenly with doubled vision she saw the two of them together, lifting their arms in homage to the moon. But though recognition was total, she realized in surprise that Caillean's hair was not dark, but red, their features alike as those of sisters, and her own face was the one she had seen once before in the forest pool. Sisters... and more than sisters. Women, and more than women... The words came to her from someplace beyond memory.\n\nThen, with a little shock she remembered that she had never spoken with Caillean until yesterday. But as it had been with Gaius, it suddenly seemed to her that she had known the priestess from the beginning of the world.\n\nCaillean had been playing fora longtime when Mairi stood up suddenly and cried out, staring down at the dark stain that was spreading across her gown. The other two looked up in surprise.\n\n\"Have your waters broken already?\" the priestess asked. \"Well, love, babes come when they wish and not at our convenience; we'd better have you to bed. Eilan, go find the shepherd and have him bring in more wood for the fire. Then buildup the fire and fill the cauldron and bring water to a boil. Mairi will be wanting hot tea before this is over, and so will we.\"\n\nAs Caillean had no doubt expected, having something to do calmed the younger girl. \"Are you better now?\" the priestess asked when Eilan returned. \"I have often found it a mistake to allow any woman who has not herself borne a child to be in the room at a birth; it only frightens. But if you are to join us in the Forest House, sooner or later you will have to learn.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan swallowed and nodded, determined to justify the older woman's faith in her. For the first hour or two Mairi dozed between pains, rousing only a few times an hour to cry out, almost as if in her sleep. Eilan dozed on the bench near the fire; it was the darkest part of the night and the rain had settled down to a soft insistent pounding when Caillean bent and wakened her.\n\n\"Come, now, I shall need you; stir up the fire, and make Mairi a cup of berry-leaf tea. I don't know how long this will take, and I will want your help.\"\n\nWhen the tea was ready, Caillean bent over Mairi, who was moving restlessly, and held the cup to her lips. \"There, sip this now. It will make you feel stronger.\"\n\nBut in a few moments Mairi shook her head, her face growing red and contorted.\n\n\"It will not belong, my dear,\" said Caillean encouragingly. \"Do not try to sit upright now.\"\n\nAs Mairi slumped, gasping, after the contraction, Caillean said, low and quick, \"Eilan, sponge her face, while I make all ready.\" She moved to the fire, and spoke to Mairi once more. \"See, I have a fine swaddling ready for the little one, and it will not belong now till you hold her. Or do you think it will be another fine son like the one you have already?\"\n\n\"I do not care,\" Mairi groaned, breathing hard. \"I only want-it over-ahh-will it belong now-?\"\n\n\"Of course not. Just a little while, Mairi, and you will have your child in your arms... ah, that's right, just a little more... One begins just as another ends; I know it's hard, but it means your babe will be here all the sooner-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan felt almost rigid with fright. Mairi did not even look like herself anymore. Her face was red and swollen, she cried out and seemed not even to know she was doing it. Then she gasped, arching her back and bracing her feet against the end of the bed.\n\n\"I can't-oh, I can't,\" came the hoarse cry, but Caillean was still crooning encouragement. It seemed to Eilan that the birthing had lasted a lifetime, but the sun was barely set.\n\nThen Caillean's voice changed. \"Now I think we are ready. Let her hold your hands, Eilan; no, not like that-at the wrists. Now, Mairi, push just once more. I know you are tired, child, but this will soon be over. Breathe-that's right, breathe hard, just let it come. There, there, now look!\" Mairi's body heaved, and the priestess straightened, holding something, unbelievably red and tiny, that jerked in her hands with a thin cry. \"Look, Mairi, you have a fine little daughter.\"\n\nMairi's red face relaxed in a blissful smile as Caillean laid the newborn child upon her belly.\n\n\"Ah, Lady,\" breathed the priestess, looking down at them. \"More times than I can remember I have seen this, and always it is a miracle!\" The thin mewing became a shrill and demanding cry, and Mairi laughed.\n\n\"Oh, Caillean, she's so beautiful, so beautiful...\"\n\nWith swift efficiency the priestess tied off the birthcord and cleansed the child. When Mairi began to deliver the afterbirth, Caillean handed the baby to Eilan." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It seemed impossible that anything so fragile should be a human child; its fingers and feet were thin and spidery, its head covered with a downy dark fuzz. As Mairi fell into an exhausted sleep, Caillean hung a small metal amulet around the infant's neck, and began to cocoon it in swaddling bands.\n\n\"Now she cannot be stolen by the elf-kind, and we have watched her every moment since she was born, so we know she is no changeling,\" Caillean said. \"But not even the Good Folk would be likely to come out into this rain. So you see, even from such a flood some good can come.\"\n\nCaillean straightened her weary back, realizing that a red watery sun was beginning to peer through the heavy lowlying clouds for the first time in many days.\n\nThe baby was long and frail. Her hair turned to a downy reddish fuzz as it dried.\n\n\"She looks so delicate-will she live?\" Eilan asked.\n\n\"I see no reason she should not,\" Caillean replied. \"It is a mercy of the gods we did not leave here last night. I thought it might be safer to take refuge in the Forest House after all; and then this babe would have been born beneath some tree or in an open field, and we might well have lost both mother and child. My foresight is not always true.\"\n\nThe priestess sat down heavily on a bench before the fire. \"Why, it is day again; no wonder I am weary. And no doubt before long, the boy will wake and we can show him his little sister.\"\n\nEilan was still holding the baby, but as Caillean looked up at her a veil seemed to fall between them, like a breath of cold mist from the Otherworld. As it swirled, a dreadful sorrow chilled Caillean's bones; suddenly she was seeing an Eilan who was older, in the blue robe of the Forest House, with the blue tattooed crescent of a sworn priestess between her brows. In her arms she held a young child; and in her eyes Caillean saw a grief so great it tore her heart." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Caillean shuddered, shaken by that flood of sorrow, and tried to blink the tears away. When she looked again, the young girl was staring at her in amazement. Involuntarily the priestess took a step forward and snatched Mairi's child, who mewed softly and fell asleep again.\n\n\"What is the matter?\" Eilan asked. \"Why were you looking at me like that?\"\n\n\"A draught,\" Caillean murmured. \"It chilled us both.\" But they could both see that the rushlights burned unstirringly. My foresight is not always true, she told herself. Not always...\n\nShe shook her head. \"Let us hope the streams are still impassable,\" she said. Even the thought of raiders was a welcome distraction after that vision.\n\n\"Why do you say that, Caillean? My father will certainly want to come as soon as he can, and my mother too, to see their new grandchild. And all the more so if, as you say, Mairi is widowed-\"\n\nCaillean started. \"Did I say that? Well, surely the weather will do as it will; never did I hear that even for the will of the High Druid we had more either of sun or rain. But I cannot help thinking that your kinsmen are not the only ones who can ride the roads. Come,\" she added, \"the babe must go back to her mother's breast.\" She moved toward the box bed, the swaddled child in her arms." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Over the Roman camp at Deva, rain continued to fall with maddening insistence. The men stayed in their barracks, dicing or repairing worn gear, or made their way to the wine shop to drink the afternoon away. In the midst of the all-encompassing wetness, Macellius Severus sent for his son.\n\n\"You are familiar with the country to the west,\" he began. \"Do you think you could guide a party along the roads to Bendeigid Vran's household?\"\n\nGaius stiffened, letting his oiled leather cape drip onto the tiled floor. \"Yes, but, Father-\"\n\nMacellius guessed his meaning. \"I am not suggesting that you should spy on a friend's household, my boy, but Hibernian raiders have been sighted off Segontium. Every British housestead in the region will beat risk if they slip by. It's for their own good, though I don't suppose they will see it that way. But if I must send a troop into see what's happening, is it not better that it be led by a friend than by a Celt-hater, or some idiot fresh from Rome who thinks the Britons still go about painted blue?\"\n\nGaius felt himself coloring. He hated the way his father could suddenly make him feel like a child.\n\n\"I am at your service, Father-and at Rome's,\" he added stiffly after a moment, feeling so cynical about the polite formula that he half-expected a sneer in response. How corrupt I am becoming, but at least I know when I am being a hypocrite. Will I be so accustomed to putting on that air of benign superiority by the time I am my father's age that I believe it?\n\n\"Or do you fear that your temper will runaway with you because Bendeigid refused you his daughter's hand?\" his father went on. \"I told you how it would be.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius felt his fists clench and bit his lip hard. He had never bested his father in a confrontation and knew he would have no chance now. Still, those words had been like salt on a raw wound.\n\n\"You told me, and you were right,\" Gaius said through his teeth. \"Trot out whatever heifer you will-any girl with broad hips and good bloodlines, this Julia if you like-and I will do my duty.\"\n\n\"You area Roman and I expect you to behave like one,\" Macellius said more gently. \"You acted honorably, and you will continue to do so. In Juno's name, boy, the girl you loved maybe in danger. Even though you can't marry her, don't you want to make sure she is safe and well?\"\n\nAnd to that, of course, he could make no answer at all, but he felt his stomach curdling with a dread that owed nothing to physical fear as he saluted and went out of the door.\n\nPerhaps I am simply afraid to face them all, Gaius thought as his little troop of horsemen detached from the Auxilia trotted through the gate of the fortress and splashed down the hill. Ina way I did betray their trust, and they were all kind tome. During the confusion of detailing the men and packing he had been able to suppress his feelings, but now the sick apprehension washed over him once more.\n\nHe had only seen Cynric once after leaving the house of Bendeigid... One day in the market town of Deva he had turned and recognized the blond young giant bartering fora sword at a smith's stall. Cynric was so deeply engaged in conversation with the weapons seller that he had not seen Gaius, and, in spite of his upbringing, Gaius had turned on his heel and fled. It was just after he had received his reply from Bendeigid. If the household knew of the offer Gaius would be shamed, and if not, what could Cynric, seeing the lad he had befriended wearing the uniform of a Roman tribune, presume but that they had been betrayed?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He wondered who had written the Druid's Latin response for him. Gaius had burned the wax tablets on which they were written, but the words remained engraved on his memory. They were simple enough. The Druid did not feel he could give his daughter in marriage, because of her youth and Gaius's Roman heritage.\n\nGaius had resolved to put the whole thing completely out of mind. After all, he was a Roman, trained to discipline both mind and body. But it was proving harder than he had expected. He could control his thoughts during the daytime, but last night he had dreamed once more that he and Eilan were sailing westward together on a white ship. Yet even if there were any land to the west where they might flee, he did not have the faintest idea how one would go about abducting even a willing girl, nor whether Eilan would be willing to runaway. He had no intention of facing down all his kinsmen, to say nothing of hers. Nothing could come of that except misery for them both.\n\nPerhaps Eilan was betrothed to somebody else by now, despite what her father had said about her youth. Certainly most Roman girls were married by that age. His father could go ahead, if he wished, and pledge him to whomever he willed. Licinius's daughter was young too, so perhaps he need not face it fora while. Better, Gaius thought, to stop thinking about women entirely. The gods knew he had tried. But now and again, seeing-perhaps in some Gaulish slave-a flash of fair hair and grey eyes, her image would return to him so vividly he wanted to cry.\n\nHe would have liked to learn from Cynric how the family fared. But by the time he had got up his courage again the young giant had vanished. And all things considered, it was probably just as well." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan woke suddenly, blinking as she tried to remember where she was. Had the baby cried? Had she dreamed? But Mairi and the babe lay quiet in the bed box on the other side of the fire. As she moved, her nephew, Vran, turned in his sleep and nestled closer against her. The priestess, Caillean, lay still against the wall. Eilan, at the edge of the bed nearest the fire, had slept badly, restless. If she had been dreaming, she could not remember it; she knew only that she was awake and staring at the red coals where the fire had burned to embers.\n\nIn the dark Caillean said softly, \"I heard it too. There is someone outside the house.\"\n\n\"At this hour?\" She listened, but there was only the dripping of water from the eaves and the hiss of the fire.\n\nBut Caillean said with peremptory haste, \"Be still.\" She slipped from the bed and silently tested the bar across the door. It was secure in its slot, but after a moment Eilan heard again the sound that had wakened her and saw the bar bow slightly as the door was pressed inward.\n\nEilan shivered. She had been weaned on tales of raiders, but had always lived in the great house of Bendeigid, protected by her father's armed men. The two serving men who helped with the farm work slept in the other roundhouse, and the homes of the other men oathed to Rhodri were scattered through the hills.\n\n\"Getup-quietly-and dress as swiftly as you can,\" whispered Caillean. The door shook again, and Eilan obeyed, trembling.\n\n\"My father always said to hide in the woods if raiders came-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That is no good to us now, with this rain, and Mairi still weak from childbirth,\" Caillean murmured. \"Wait.\"\n\nThe door groaned as someone thrust more strongly, and Mairi woke, muttering. But Caillean, fully dressed now, had her handover her lips. \"Be silent, as you value your life and your child's,\" she whispered. Mairi subsided with a gasp, and the baby, luckily, slept on.\n\n\"Shall we hide in the storage pit?\" Eilan whispered as the door shook again. Whoever was outside was determined to force his way in.\n\nCaillean said softly, \"Stay here, and whatever happens do not scream,\" and went to the door. Mairi cried out as Caillean began to lift the bar. The priestess said fiercely, \"Do you want to put this door back together after they break it down? I do not.\"\n\nAs she drew back the bar, the door banged open. A dozen men burst through it as if blown by the wind and stopped short as Caillean cried out a single word that sounded like a command. They were big men with wild and untrimmed hair streaming over their shoulders; swathed in skins and hairy cloaks of heavy wool over tunics even more brightly checked than those the Britons wore. Caillean seemed slender as a willow wand before them. Her dark hair flowed to her waist over her ungirt blue robe, lifting a little as the wind blew through the door. It was the only thing about her that moved.\n\nMairi dived beneath the covers, clutching her child. One of the men laughed and said something just audible, and Eilan shuddered. She felt like following Mairi, but was too paralyzed to move." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Caillean cried out again in a ringing voice and took a step backwards to the hearth." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The men seemed mesmerized by her gaze. They stood, staring, as she knelt and plunged her hands into the embers. Then suddenly she was rising, casting the coals at the intruders with both hands. She shouted again and the strange warriors gasped and recoiled; then they were gone, surging back over the doorsill, cursing in an odd sort of British and another tongue she did not know, knocking each other off their feet as they struggled to getaway.\n\nThe priestess followed them to the door, laughing, and cried out something in a high voice, like the cry of a falcon. Then she slammed out the surging wind and all was still once more.\n\nWhen they had gone, Caillean sank down on the settle by the hearth and Eilan, who was shaking to her very toenails, went to her. \"Who were they?\"\n\n\"Raiders, a mixed band, I think, from the North and from my country,\" Caillean said. \"More shame tome, for I am a woman of Eriu, brought hereby Lhiannon.\" She stood up and began to mop up the rainwater that had come in.\n\nEilan quavered, \"And what did you say?\"\n\n\"I told them I was a bean-drui, a she-Druid, and if they laid a hand on me or on either of my sisters I would curse them by fire and water; and I showed them that I had that power.\" Caillean stretched out her hands. The slim fingers that Eilan had seen her thrust into the coals were white and unharmed. Was this all a dream?\n\nEilan, remembering what Caillean had cried out after them, said hesitatingly, \"Sisters?\"\n\n\"By the vows I have taken, all women are my sisters.\" Her lips twisted. \"And I said if they went away and left us in peace I would lay a blessing on them-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And did you bless them then?\"\n\n\"I did not; they are wild wolves of the forest, or worse,\" Caillean said defiantly. \"Bless them? As soon bless a wolf and his teeth in my throat.\"\n\nEilan's gaze returned to Caillean's fingers. \"How did you do that? Was that a Druid's illusion, or did you really take fire in your hands.\" Already she was beginning to wonder if her eyes had deceived her.\n\n\"Oh, that was real enough.\" Caillean gave a short laugh. \"Anyone with my training could have done it.\"\n\nEilan stared at her. \"Could I?\"\n\n\"If you were taught, certainly,\" said Caillean with a trace of impatience. \"If you had the trust, and the will. But I cannot show you now. Perhaps in the Forest House, if you come there.\"\n\nThe reality of what they had escaped burst over Eilan then and she dropped down upon the seat next to the priestess, shuddering. \"They would... they would have-\" Eilan swallowed. \"We all owe you our lives.\"\n\n\"Oh, I think not,\" said Caillean. \"A woman in childbed is small temptation even to such as these. And I might well have been able to frighten them from me; but you, yes; rape is the least you could have expected from them. They do not kill fair young girls; but you might well have ended a captive wife, if you so call it, on the shores of wild Eriu. If that is a fate that would have pleased you, I am sorry to have interfered.\"\n\nEilan shuddered, remembering the feral faces of the men. \"I think not. Are the men all like that in your land?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I do not know. When I left it I was still very young.\" After a moment's silence Caillean went on. \" I do not remember either my mother or my father, only that in the hut where we lived-all of us-there were seven children smaller than I. One day we went to the market and Lhiannon was there. I had never seen anyone so beautiful.\n\n\"And something-I know not what-reached out to her, for she cast her cloak over me, thus claiming me in the oldest of rites for the gods. Years later, I asked her why she had chosen me from all the others there. She said that she had seen that the others there were cleanly dressed and that their parents clung to them. There was no one to cling tome,\" she added somewhat bitterly. \"In the home of my parents I was only another mouth to feed. Nor was my name Caillean; my mother-I do not really remember her-she called me Lon-dubh, Blackbird.\"\n\n\"Is Caillean a priestess name then?\"\n\nCaillean smiled. \"It is not,\" she said. \"Caillean, in our tongue, means only \"my child, my girl\". So Lhiannon called me whenever she spoke tome; I think of myself now by no other name.\"\n\n\"Should I call you that then?\"\n\n\"You should, though I do have another name given me by the priestesses. I am sworn never to speak it aloud or even whisper it, save to another priestess.\"\n\n\"I see.\" Eilan stared at her, then blinked, because fora momenta name had echoed in her awareness as loudly as if it had been spoken. Isarma... when you were my sister, Isarma was your name...\n\nCaillean sighed, \"Well, dawn is still far off. See, your sister has already fallen back into slumber. Poor lass, the birth exhausted her. You should sleep as well-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Eilan shook her head, trying to bring the world back into focus." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"After such a disturbance, I do not think I could sleep even if I tried.\"\n\nCaillean looked at her and suddenly laughed. \"Well, to be truthful, neither can I! Those men terrified me so that I could scarce speak. I thought I had forgotten their dialect-the last time I heard it was so long ago.\"\n\n\"You did not look terrified,\" said Eilan. \"You looked like a goddess standing there.\" She heard once more the other woman's bitter laugh.\n\n\"Things are not always as they seem, my little one. You must learn not to put all your trust in how folk look, or in what they say.\"\n\nEilan stared into the fire, whose embers, stirred back to life by Caillean's raking, snapped and sparkled on the hearth. The man she had learned to care for as Gawen had been an illusion, but even as Gaius the Roman, the thing that made her love him was the same. And he had spoken truth to her. I would know him, she thought then, if he came tome as a leper or a wild man. Fora moment she grasped at something that lay beyond face or form or name. Then a coal snapped, and it was gone.\n\n\"Tell me what is true, then,\" Eilan said to fill the silence. \"How did that cotter's child you say you were become a priestess who could hold fire in her hands?\"\n\nTell me what is true... Caillean stared at the girl, who had lowered her fair lashes over those changeable eyes as if frightened by her own boldness. What other truths might comeback to haunt her, as her mother tongue had returned on the lips of those monstrous men? She was twice Eilan's age-old enough to be her mother if she had married young, and yet at this moment the younger woman was like a sister, a twin soul." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Did you come at once then to the Forest House with Lhiannon?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "persisted Eilan.\n\n\"I did not; I think that Vernemeton was not yet built then,\" Caillean pulled herself together enough to answer her. \"Lhiannon had come to Eriu to study with the bean-drui, the priestesses at the shrine of Brigid at Druim Cliadh. When she returned to Britain, we dwelt at first in around tower on the shore far, far to the north of here. I remember that there was a ring of white stones laid around the tower, and it was death for any man, save only the Arch-Druid-not Ardanos, but the one who was before-to come within this ring of stones. Always, she treated meas her foster daughter; once she said, when someone asked, that she had found me abandoned on the seashore. It might as well have been true; I never saw any member of my family again.\"\n\n\"Didn't you miss your mother?\"\n\nCaillean hesitated, shaken by the flood of memories. \"I suppose you had a good and a loving mother. Mine was otherwise. It is not that she was evil, but I cared little for her nor she for me.\" She stopped herself, eyeing the younger woman warily. What power is in you, girl, she thought, that you can conjure such memories from me? She sighed, trying to find the right words.\n\n\"For her, I was only an extra mouth to feed. Once, years later in the market at Deva, I saw an old woman who reminded me of my mother. She was not, of course, but I did not even feel regret when I realized it. It was then that I knew I had no kinfolk but Lhiannon and, later, the other priestesses of the Forest House...\"\n\nThere was along silence. She could see Eilan trying to imagine what it would be like to grow up without a family. Caillean could see that Mairi's bossiness had held affection, and, from what Dieda had told her, she had been like Eilan's twin. And yet, she realized suddenly, just as she herself had never unburdened her heart to her fellow priestesses, never could Eilan have talked to any of her family as she was speaking with Caillean now." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It is like talking to myself, to say these things to her, Caillean thought ruefully, or perhaps it is like talking to the self I should have been, forever innocent and pure.\n\n\"The darkness and the fire glow here remind me of my earliest years,\" the priestess said at last, and as she spoke the dull light captured her vision and she was falling down the tunnel of the years, the words pouring out of her as if she were under some spell.\n\n\"All I truly recall of the hut is that it was dark and always smoky. It hurt my throat, so I was always running alone down to the seashore. Mostly I remember the crying of the seagulls; they were about the tower too, so that when I came hereto the Forest House many seasons ago, for more than a year I could hardly sleep for being out of the sound of the sea. I loved the ocean. My memories of my... home...\" she continued hesitantly, \"are all of children, always a baby at my mother's breast, always the whimpering and squalling, and tugging at her skirts and at mine when I could not escape them. But even beatings could not keep me within the house to pound barley, or to be pulled around by the whimpering naked brats. It is surprising I can endure babes,\" she added, \" but I have no dislike for such as Mairi's who come where they are much longed for and are well cared for once they are born.\n\n\"I must have had a father, but even when I was very small, I knew he did nothing for my mother except to make sure that there was always anew baby at the breast.\" She hesitated. \"I daresay Lhiannon pitied meas a starveling.\"\n\nCaillean heard her own words, surprised that they held no bitterness; as if she had accepted all this too long ago." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So I do not even know how old I am, not really. It was about a year or so after Lhiannon took me away before my body showed the first signs of womanhood. I think I was about twelve then.\" She broke off suddenly, and Eilan looked at her in amazement.\n\nI am a woman, a priestess, Caillean told herself, a sorceress who can frighten armed men! But the fire trance had taken her too far into memory, and she felt like a terrified child. Which was the truth? Or was the deception only in the flickering of the fire?\n\n\"I must be more shaken than I knew,\" she said in a stifled voice, \"or perhaps it is the hour, and the darkness, as if we had stepped outside time.\" She looked at Eilan, forcing herself to honesty, \"Or it maybe because I am talking to you...\"\n\nEilan swallowed, and steeled herself to meet the other woman's gaze. Truth... tell me the truth-Caillean heard the thought as if it had been her own, and could not tell which of them had a greater need for it...\n\n\"I never told Lhiannon, and the Goddess has not struck me down...\" She felt the words dragged out of her. \"But after all these years it seems tome that perhaps someone should know.\"\n\nEilan reached out to her, and Caillean's fingers closed hard on her hand.\n\n\"It was the sight and sound of those raiders that made me remember. In my old home there was a man I sometimes saw on the shore. He was, I suspect, one who lived there apart from other men, an outlaw driven from his clan. I would not wonder at that,\" she added bitterly. \"At first I trusted him; he gave me small gifts, pretty things he had found on the shore, shells, bright feathers.\" She hesitated. \"More fool I for thinking him harmless; but how would I have known better? Who had there ever been to teach me?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She stared blindly towards the fire, but there had been no light in the hut, and no light could reach her now in this place of memory. \"I suspected nothing, I never knew what he wanted when he dragged me into his hut one day-\" She shuddered, racked by memories for which, even now, she had no words.\n\n\"What did you do?\" Eilan's voice came from a great way off, like a distant star.\n\n\"What could I do?\" Caillean said harshly, clinging to that little light. \"I-Iran away, crying-crying till I thought I would melt, and filled with such horror and disgust-I can't speak of that. It seemed there was no one I could tell, no one who would have cared.\" She was silent fora longtime. \"To this day I remember the smell in his hut-filth, bracken, seaweed, and being pushed down on it while I whimpered-I was too young to imagine what he wanted. The smell of the sea and of bracken still makes me ill,\" she added.\n\n\"Didn't anyone ever know? Didn't they do anything?\" asked Eilan. \"I think my father would kill anyone who had touched me so.\"\n\nCaillean had said it at last, and breathing was a little easier now. She let out some of the pain in along, shuddering, sigh. \"Wild as our tribe was, women could not be molested, nor a child so young. Had I accused my attacker, he would have come to the wicker cage and roasted in a slow fire. He knew it, when he threatened me. But I did not know it then.\" She spoke with a strange detachment now, as if it had all happened to someone else.\n\n\"It was about a year afterward that Lhiannon came. She would never have suspected that a girl so young could already be impure-and by the time I came to trust her and believe in her goodness, it was too late; I feared I should be sent away. So, after all, that divinity you thought you saw in me is all a lie,\" she said harshly. \"If Lhiannon had known, I should never have been made priestess-but I made sure she never knew.\" She turned her face away. Fora moment that seemed far too long, there was silence." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Look at me-\"\n\nCaillean found her gaze drawn back to the child and saw Eilan's face, one side Goddess-bright and the other in shadow.\n\n\"I believe in you,\" said the girl gravely.\n\nCaillean drew a shaken breath and Eilan's image was blurred by her tears.\n\n\"I live only because I believe that the Goddess forgives meas well,\" the priestess said. \"I had already received my first initiation before I understood the enormity of my deception. But there were no evil omens. When they made me priestess I waited fora thunderbolt, but none came. I wondered then if perhaps there are no gods, or if there are, they care nothing for the doings of humankind.\"\n\n\"Or perhaps they are more merciful than men,\" said Eilan, then blinked as if amazed at her own temerity. It had never occurred to her to question the wisdom of men like her father and grandfather before. \"Why did you leave your tower by the sea?\" Eilan prompted after a time.\n\nCaillean, lost in memory, started and said, \"Because of the destruction of the shrine on Mona-you know that story?\"\n\n\"My grandfather-he is a bard-has sung it. But surely that was before you were born-\"\n\n\"Not quite,\" Caillean laughed. \"But I was still a child. If Lhiannon had not been in Eriu, which you call Hibernia, at the time, she too would have died. For some years after that disaster the remaining Druids of Britain were too busy licking their wounds to take much thought for their priestesses. Then the Arch-Druid made some kind of treaty with the Romans that ensured sanctuary for the surviving sacred women within Roman lands.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"With the Romans!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan exclaimed. \"But it was the Romans who killed the others!\"\n\n\"No, they only despoiled them,\" said Caillean bitterly. \"The priestesses of Mona lived long enough to bear the bastards the Romans had begotten on them, then killed themselves. The children were fostered out to loyal families like your own.\"\n\n\"Cynric!\" exclaimed Eilan with a look of sudden comprehension. \"That is why he is so bitter about the Romans, and always wants to hear the story of Mona, though it happened so long ago. They always hushed me when I asked about it before!\"\n\n\"Your Cynric the Roman-hater has exactly as much Roman blood as that boy your father refused to let you marry,\" said Caillean, laughing. But Eilan hugged her arms and stared into the fire.\n\n\"Don't you believe me?\" asked the priestess. \"It is all too true. Well, perhaps the Romans feel some guilt for what was done, but your grandfather is as wily apolitical animal as any Roman senator, and he bargained with Cerealis, who was Governor before Frontinus. At any rate the Forest House was built at Vernemeton to shelter women and priestesses from the whole of Britain. And at last Lhiannon became High Priestess and a place was made for me among them, mostly because they did not know what else to do with me. I have attended Lhiannon since I was a little child, but I am not to succeed her. That has been made clear tome.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"At first I thought it was the will of the Goddess... because of what I told you. But now I believe that it is because the priests cannot trust me to obey. I love Lhiannon, but I see her clearly, and I know that she will bend with the wind. Perhaps the only time she ever defied the Council was when she insisted on keeping me. But I see through their plots and speak my mind, though not,\" she shook her head ruefully, \"as I have spoken to you!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Eilan returned her smile." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That must be true, for I cannot imagine saying even half the things I have heard this night in my father's hall.\"\n\n\"They would not dare let me speak with the voice of the Goddess-they would always be wondering what I was going to say!\" Caillean found herself laughing again. \"They will want someone more loyal. I thought fora time it was to be Dieda; but I overheard a bit of what Ardanos said when she was chosen. I believe that they had planned it should be you.\"\n\n\"You said something like this before, but I think my father means to arrange a marriage for me.\"\n\n\"Truly?\" Caillean raised one eyebrow. \"Well, perhaps I am wrong. I knew only that the son of the Prefect of the camp at Deva had asked for you.\"\n\n\"My father was so angry...\" Eilan blushed, remembering the things he had said to her. \"He said he would have Senara married off before she could cause him any trouble. I thought he meant the same for me. But he said nothing of sending me to Vernemeton. If I cannot be with Gaius,\" she added dully, \"I do not suppose it matters what I do.\"\n\nCaillean looked at her thoughtfully. \"I have never been tempted to marry; I have been pledged to the Goddess for so long. Perhaps because of what happened tome when I was a child I never felt I wished to belong to any man. I suppose if I had been unhappy in the temple, Lhiannon would have tried to find away to give me in marriage; she has always wanted to make me happy. I do love her,\" she added. \"She has been more tome than a mother.\"\n\nShe hesitated. \"It galls me to think of giving way to Ardanos's plans, but the Goddess may have had a hand in this as well. Would you like to come with me to Vernemeton when I return?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I believe that I would,\" Eilan replied, and a flicker of interest leaped in those odd, changeable eyes that sometimes looked dark hazel, and sometimes grey replacing the pain." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I cannot think anything else would please me so well. I never really believed they would let me and Gaius be together. Long ago, before I met Gaius, I used to dream of being a priestess. This way, at least, I will have an honorable life and interesting things to learn.\"\n\n\"I think that could be arranged,\" Caillean said dryly. \"No doubt Bendeigid will be delighted, and Ardanos as well. But Lhiannon is the one who must agree to it. Shall I speak to her?\"\n\nEilan nodded, and this time it was the older woman who took her hand. At the touch of the girl's smooth skin Caillean felt the familiar dizziness of shifting vision, and saw Eilan grown older and even more beautiful, swathed in the Oracle's veils. \"Sisters, and more than sisters...\" Like an echo she heard the words.\n\n\"Don't be afraid, child. I think it maybe...\" she paused and finally said, \"fated that you come among us.\" Her heart lifted suddenly. \"And I need hardly say that I would welcome you there.\" She sighed as the vision left her, and heard, like an echo, a lark outside, giving greeting to the dawn. \"Dawn is breaking.\" With an effort, Caillean made stiff muscles obey her and stumbled towards the door. \"We have been talking all the night. I have not done that since I was younger than you.\" She opened the door, letting the rising sun flood into the room. \"Well, at least the rain has stopped; we had better go and see if the byre survived the night-at least those wretches could hardly burn it in this rain-and if they have left us any cows, and anyone to milk them.\"\n\nFor the next four days Gaius slogged along at the head of the troop of Dacian auxiliaries whose sick decurion he was replacing, with Priscus, their optio, all of them cursing the mud and the damp that seemed to creep through every opening despite the capes of oiled leather, rusting armor and chafing wherever wet leather touched skin. The woodlands dripped steadily and the fields lay sodden to either side, pools of standing water rotting the roots of the young corn. Summer's end would bring a poor harvest, he thought grimly. They would need to bring ingrain from parts of the Empire where the gods had been kinder. It was no wonder the raiders were roaming if the weather had been the same in Hibernia." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Despite the slow going, by the middle of the fifth day they were well into the country of his adventure. They spent that night at the home of Clotinus. The next day they passed the very boar pit into which he had fallen and turned down the track that led to the household of Bendeigid. The rain was letting up at last, and westward between the banks of breaking clouds the sky glowed gold.\n\nGaius felt his pulse quicken as he recognized the home pasture and the wood in which he had hunted for primroses with Eilan. Soon she would see him, clothed in the majesty, however mud-spattered, of Rome. He would say nothing; she could judge the depth of his suffering from his silence. And then, perhaps, she would seek him out, and-\n\n\"Gods below! Are those more stormclouds?\" It was the optio, Priscus, behind him. \"I hoped we'd have a day at least to get dry!\"\n\nGaius focused on the outside world and saw that though the sky to the south was clearing, the clouds ahead were an ominous dark grey. His horse tossed its head nervously and a little prickle of apprehension roughened his skin.\n\n\"Not rainclouds,\" said one of the Dacians. \"Smoke...\"\n\nAt that moment the rising wind brought him the reek of smoldering timbers. All the horses were snorting now, but they had smelled fire before, and the men kept them under control.\n\n\"Priscus, dismount and take two scouts through the woods to see,\" said Gaius, a little amazed at the cold precision of his tone. Was it training that kept him from spurring his horse forward, or was he simply numbed into inaction by the thought of what he might see? It seemed only a few moments before the scouts returned." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Raiders, sir,\" said the optio, his seamed face set like stone." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Hibernians we heard about, I would guess. But they're gone now.\"\n\n\"Any survivors?\"\n\nPriscus shrugged and Gaius felt his throat close.\n\n\"Warm welcome here, but no place to sleep, eh? Guess we ride on,\" said one of the men, and the others laughed. Then Gaius turned, and his face silenced them. He dug his heels into his mount's sides and in silence the troop followed him.\n\nIt was true. Even as they came around the edge of the wood to the rise on which Bendeigid's steading had been, Gaius had been hoping that Priscus was mistaken somehow. But it was all gone-only a few blackened timbers at the ends of what had been the feasting hall still stood in mute memorial. No sign of the building where he had convalesced, and no sign of life. Thatched buildings burned fast.\n\n\"Fierce indeed must have been the fire, to burn when the straw was wet with rain,\" said Priscus.\n\n\"No doubt,\" Gaius numbly agreed, picturing little Senara, Eilan, all the family, prisoners in the hands of the wild raiders from the coasts of Hibernia, or worse still, heaps of charred bones among the tangle of burnt timbers that had once been a home. He must not let the men see how much this was affecting him; he pulled his hood over his face, coughing as if from the smoke that still drifted from the outbuildings. Priscus had been right. Nothing could have survived this blaze.\n\nHe said fiercely, \"Let's get the men going then. We've no time to stand about staring at foundation stones if we're to have shelter before night falls!\" His voice cracked and he turned it to another cough, wondering what, if anything, Priscus had deduced from his tone. But the optio, an old soldier, was familiar enough with the effects on the young of seeing pillage and slaughter." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Priscus gave him a kindly glance and looked away." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We promised these people peace when we conquered them-least we could do, you'd think, would be to protect them. But we'll catch up with the bastards that did it, never fear, and teach them not to meddle with Rome. What a pity the gods never invented any other way to civilize the world. Oh well, we could have been turnip farmers; but one way or the other, we picked soldiering for our job, and that's part of it. Friends of yours, were they?\"\n\n\"I guested here,\" Gaius replied stiffly. \"Last spring.\" At least his voice was back under control.\n\n\"Well, that's the way the world goes,\" Priscus replied. \"Here one day and gone the next. But I reckon the gods must have known what they were doing.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Gaius replied, as much to cutoff the man's homely philosophy as anything else. \"Give the order to march; let's get the men out of the rain as soon as we can reach the next town.\"\n\n\"Right, sir. Column, form up!\" he bawled. \"Who knows, maybe the family were all away visiting friends. That's the way it goes sometimes.\"\n\nAs they moved on through a gathering mist that was once more turning to rain, Gaius recalled seeing Cynric in the marketplace shortly before leaving Deva; there had been some talk of sending the young man to some college of weapons in the North, so he might very well have survived. The death of a Druid as important as Bendeigid would make some stir. Gaius suspected that his father had sources of information he kept secret. Surely he would know. He had only to wait and see.\n\nGaius tried to summon up some hope. Priscus was right. The burning of the house did not necessarily mean the death or imprisonment of the people who had lived there. Mairi might well have returned to her home; Dieda was not even a member of Bendeigid's household, at least not anymore. But Eilan... probably it was too much to hope that Eilan, or little Senara, or the gentle Rheis, had survived. At that moment he would not have given the smallest of copper coins for his own career or for the whole of the empire." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He thought, If I had taken Eilan away she would still be living-if I had stood up to my father, even stolen her away...\n\nA sudden memory made his throat ache-the vision of his mother lying cold and white in her sleeping place, and the women wailing over her body. He had wailed with them, but then his father had taken him away and taught him that a Roman does not cry. But he wept for her now, as he wept for these women who had fora little while, made him feel part of a family.\n\nHe could not let the soldiers see him cry. He put his cloak over his head and tried to pretend that the tears that rolled down his cheeks were rain." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I want my husband.\" At midmorning, the day after the birth of her child, Mairi had awakened fretful and demanding. \"Where is Rhodri? He would have protected us from those men-\"\n\nThe roundhouse was warm after the cold outside. Eilan, who was beginning to feel the effects of her own interrupted night, looked at her sister in exasperation and sat down by the fire. It was bad enough that the raiders had driven off all their milk cows, and she had had to slog several miles through the wet woods to borrow a beast so that Mairi, whose own milk had not yet come in, could feed the child. At least the main herds were off in the summer pastures, so her sister was not without dowry if she married again, although Eilan was not heartless enough to speak of that yet.\n\n\"The cows would not have been taken if Rhodri had been here!\"\n\n\"More likely he would have tried to fight the raiders, and you would still-\" Eilan bit her lip, appalled at what she had been saying. She had forgotten that Mairi did not know. \"Caillean-\" She looked at the priestess in appeal.\n\n\"You would still be a widow-\" Caillean said brutally, bringing the pannikin of warm milk from the hearth and setting it down.\n\nMairi's eyes widened. \"What are you saying-\" She looked up into the face of the priestess and her own grew pale at what she read there.\n\n\"I would have waited, but we no longer have that luxury. Rhodri was caught by the Romans when he tried to rescue the levies. They executed him, Mairi.\"\n\n\"It is not true... you are lying tome. He could not be dead and I not know! Better that the raiders had killed me-why didn't you let them, Caillean? Oh, I ought to be dead-I wish I were!\" Mairi sank back into the feather bed, sobbing, and the baby began to cry. Caillean handed the child to Eilan, bent over the other woman, murmuring softly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There, now, it's no use weeping. You have two fine children with their lives ahead of them. You must gather your strength, Mairi, to get them to safety before the Scotti come again!\"\n\nMairi's eyes flew open and she reached out wildly. Eilan, shaken between tears and laughter, set the baby in her arms. Caillean had been right. Once Mairi was done weeping, she would goon living for her children. Caillean had experience of women's hearts.\n\nA little while later, while Mairi still slept, exhausted with weeping, Eilan heard a horse's hoofs sloshing in the mud left by the storm. They came to a halt outside. The raiders! Eilan thought wildly. But no attacker would strike so slowly and heavily upon the door. Her heart beating like a war drum, Eilan drew the bar. When she peered out, she saw her father there.\n\nAt the moment she could think only of Rhodri. Had her father come to bring Mairi the news? The young man had been one of their best warriors, living like a son of the house and treating her like a sister even before she was one. Now that Mairi knew about her loss, Eilan too could grieve.\n\nShe pulled open the door. Bendeigid stumbled as he entered, as if the ride had wearied him or he had suddenly become old. Then she felt the hardness of his hands closing on her shoulders. Fora long moment he stood looking at her.\n\n\"Caillean has just told Mairi about Rhodri,\" she said in a low voice. \"Did you know?\"\n\n\"I knew,\" her father said with great bitterness. \"I hoped that the word that had come tome was not true. A curse will certainly light on all Romans for that deed. Now do you see, Eilan, why I would not allow you to marry into that accursed people?\" He let goof her and dropped down upon the settle by the fire." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius's people might be guilty of such evil, but she did not believe that Gaius himself would have done it. But looking into her father's harsh face, she held her tongue.\n\n\"But that is not the worst evil we have to mourn.\" Bendeigid's face contorted suddenly, and Eilan felt the first twinge of real fear. \"I do not know how to say it, Eilan.\"\n\n\"It maybe that I already know.\" Caillean spoke behind them. \"I am sometimes foresighted, and the night before I left the Forest House I dreamed I saw a house lying in ashes, and knew it for yours. But then I found Eilan here and thought I must have been mistaken. Last night we had a visit from a band of raiders. I know the size of pack such wolves run in-and I feared. Did the main body turn south, then, to you?\"\n\n\"A band came here?\" he croaked, turning to stare at her.\n\n\"Only a few of them, and I managed to frighten them off.\"\n\n\"Then I have you to thank that I have children yet alive!\"\n\nEilan needed no foresight to understand his words, but what she was hearing was too horrible to believe. She felt the color draining from her face. \"Father-\"\n\n\"Child, child, how can I tell you? Word came that a mixed band of raiders were attacking Conmor's steading. I took my men to go to his aid. But there were more of them than we dreamed could come in such weather. While we were gone-\"\n\n\"Are Mother and Senara dead then?\" Her voice cracked, and Mairi, rousing, pushed back the bedcurtains and stood unsteadily, staring. Caillean went to her and the Druid continued." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I dare to hope so.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His face contorted with pain. \"For the alternative, to be carried off as slaves beyond the sea, is worse still. To think that either might live in such dishonor-\"\n\n\"Would you rather see them dead than alive in slavery?\" Caillean asked in a low, tense voice.\n\n\"I would that,\" Bendeigid exclaimed fiercely. \"Better a quick death, even in the flames, and a welcome in the Otherworld, than life with the memory of all our people's deaths to haunt them, as I must live now. The gods know those monsters would have paid in blood for their deaths, and mine, if I had only been there!\"\n\nHe broke off and stared fiercely from Eilan to Mairi, who took a tottering step towards him. Groaning, he gathered both of his daughters into his arms. Sobbing, Eilan held onto her sister. Once she would have found comfort in her father's arms, but these were griefs from which he could not protect her.\n\n\"Senara's body was not found in the ashes,\" he said brokenly, \"and she was not yet ten years old...\"\n\nEilan thought, Then it may well be that she still lives... but she did not say it aloud.\n\n\"I had meant to bring Mairi home when the news about Rhodri was confirmed, but now I have no home to offer her. I can give no protection to anyone now...\"\n\n\"Lord Druid, perhaps you cannot,\" said Caillean quietly, \"but your Order can. The Forest House will shelter Mairi and the little ones for as long as they have need. And I want to ask if you would permit Eilan to enter as a novice priestess of the shrine.\"\n\nBendeigid sat up and looked sharply at Eilan. \"Is that what you want, child?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is,\" she said simply. \"If I may not marry where I love, then let me give my love to the Lady. It would please me indeed, for I used to dream about such a life before I was old enough to think of marriage at all.\"\n\nFor the first time, her father smiled, albeit shakily. \"It will please your grandsire, at any rate. I had not intended this life for you, Eilan, but if it is truly what you want, then I am pleased too.\"\n\n\"But what-\" Eilan bit back the words. How could she have forgotten? Her mother would never say anything more to her at all. But her father seemed to have sensed what she could not say. He sank down again by the hearth, his face buried in his hands. She had never guessed that her father could weep. But when he looked up again she saw his cheeks streaked with tears.\n\nEilan was likewise bereft, but she had no tears. Will Gaius think me dead when he hears? Will he weep for me? Better, perhaps, that he should think her dead than faithless to his memory. But it did not matter; she would be a priestess of the Forest House. Beyond that she could not make her mind go.\n\n\"They shall be avenged!\" exclaimed the Druid, gazing into the flames. \"In all of Britain shall those wild devils find no lives so costly as these! Even the Romans have never dared so far, and I tell you I would accept help even from them to get revenge! This will mean war! For it is not only rapine and murder, Eilan; it is sacrilege. To attack the home of a Druid, kill the wife and daughter and granddaughter of Druids; and destroy the sacred things-how could they do it? The Northerners are our kinsfolk, and I have studied with the Druids of Eriu.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It has ever been the way of our people to fight each other when there was no common enemy,\" Caillean quietly observed.\n\n\"But we do have such an enemy,\" exclaimed Bendeigid. \"Do not we all hate Rome?\"\n\n\"Perhaps the wild tribes think of us as Romans now...\"\n\nThe Druid shook his head. \"The gods will surely punish them; and if they do not, our people will. Cynric has been as a son tome, and I tell you, he will curse when he hears of this day! But he is away in the islands to the north. You and Mairi are all that are left tome, Eilan.\"\n\nIndeed, she thought, remembering. I have so few kin left and Dieda too has lost a sister. Will she welcome me to the Forest House?\n\nWell, whatever came of it, a priestess she would be. Of her father's blood remained Mairi, and her newborn daughter, and her son; she wished that these children might be a comfort to her father. He was not yet old; he might marry again and have others of his own or, more likely, Mairi would find anew husband and have more. But if Eilan went to the Forest House, he would get no grandchildren from her.\n\nBendeigid rose, looking at Caillean beneath bent brows. \"I am in need now of your skills, priestess; Cynric must be recalled. Can you summon him for me? And will you do so?\"\n\n\"With Lhiannon's help, I can,\" Caillean replied. \"In any case she would need to know-\"\n\n\"I also need your skills to seek out these men,\" Bendeigid interrupted.\n\n\"That is easily done; I saw them when they burst inhere, and if they were not among those who burned your home yet they must be under the same command. Some of them were Caledonians, and the others Scotti from Eriu.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If they came here last night, the Scotti would have been on their way back to the coast and the Caledonians on their way north again.\" Bendeigid had risen to pace restlessly; now he resumed his seat by the fire. Caillean brought him a mug of ale and he sank his beard in it fora long draught, then repeated, \"We need Cynric home, faster than even amounted man can ride. Send the message, Caillean, with your magic-\"\n\n\"I will,\" said the priestess. \"I will stay herewith your daughters while you ride to tell Lhiannon. Then go to Deva, for the Arch-Druid must know as well.\"\n\n\"You are right; my wife, Rheis, was his daughter,\" Bendeigid said, rubbing his brow distractedly. \"Perhaps he will have some counsel for us as well.\"\n\nNews of the raid spread quickly through the countryside. On the lips of wandering peddlers it travelled, and with couriers of the Legions; it seemed that the birds of the air themselves bore the news on their wings.\n\nThree days after the raid, Ardanos, the Arch-Druid, coming out of his house in Deva in the morning, heard a raven croak on his left and recognized an omen of disaster. But he had earned his rank by the kind of worldly wisdom that enabled him to out-think the Romans and undermine opposition among his own people. Not for the first time he regretted the worldly limit of his powers. Then he saw the mud-spattered man coming up the street and knew that he would not have to wait for the raven to tell him, for grief was written plainly in his son-in-law's burning eyes.\n\nWhen Ardanos had recovered a little from the shock of Bendeigid's news, he went to Macellius Severus, who demanded a hearing from the Commander of the Adiutrix Legion." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"These raiders from over the sea grow too bold,\" Macellius said angrily. \"These Britons too are our people, wards of Rome. No one shall oppress them while I live. The family of one of the Druids who lives nearby, Bendeigid-\"\n\n\"A proscribed man,\" interrupted the Commander of the Legion, frowning. \"He should not be here at all!\"\n\n\"That makes no difference! Do you not understand that Rome is hereto protect all the men of this country-our citizens and the natives as well,\" Macellius insisted, still haunted by the memory of Ardanos's grief. Over the years he had come to respect the old man, and he had never known the Arch-Druid to be other than perfectly collected before. \"How can we persuade them to lay down their arms if we cannot then protect them? With two Legions we could conquer Hibernia-\"\n\n\"You may well be right, but it will have to wait until Agricola is finished with the Novantae. It has always been that way-with each province we settle we must pacify anew frontier. In the days of the Governor Paulinus, the Druids of Mona were broken so that they could not set the West Country afire. Now it is the Caledonians who must be taught they cannot raid the Brigantae. I suppose that when the Empire stretches to Ultima Thule we will have a peaceful border, but I doubt it will happen before.\n\n\"In the meantime all we can do is to hurry the construction of the new coastal fortresses,\" said the Legion's commander cynically, \"and ready a troop or two of cavalry to go out if they should be sighted again. Your son is out there now with some troops, isn't he? Detail him to this duty when he reports in.\" The Commander grunted. \"The people of Britannia are ours to oppress, and no one else shall do it.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Help the author by continuing the tale.\nTags: fantasy, historical fantasy, druids\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Forest House\nChapter: 16" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"These raiders from over the sea grow too bold,\" Macellius said angrily. \"These Britons too are our people, wards of Rome. No one shall oppress them while I live. The family of one of the Druids who lives nearby, Bendeigid-\"\n\n\"A proscribed man,\" interrupted the Commander of the Legion, frowning. \"He should not be here at all!\"\n\n\"That makes no difference! Do you not understand that Rome is hereto protect all the men of this country-our citizens and the natives as well,\" Macellius insisted, still haunted by the memory of Ardanos's grief. Over the years he had come to respect the old man, and he had never known the Arch-Druid to be other than perfectly collected before. \"How can we persuade them to lay down their arms if we cannot then protect them? With two Legions we could conquer Hibernia-\"\n\n\"You may well be right, but it will have to wait until Agricola is finished with the Novantae. It has always been that way-with each province we settle we must pacify anew frontier. In the days of the Governor Paulinus, the Druids of Mona were broken so that they could not set the West Country afire. Now it is the Caledonians who must be taught they cannot raid the Brigantae. I suppose that when the Empire stretches to Ultima Thule we will have a peaceful border, but I doubt it will happen before.\n\n\"In the meantime all we can do is to hurry the construction of the new coastal fortresses,\" said the Legion's commander cynically, \"and ready a troop or two of cavalry to go out if they should be sighted again. Your son is out there now with some troops, isn't he? Detail him to this duty when he reports in.\" The Commander grunted. \"The people of Britannia are ours to oppress, and no one else shall do it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But building fortresses and planning campaigns took time. Long before the log walls were finished or the grain that had survived the rains had been harvested, Bendeigid returned to escort his daughters to the Forest House. He brought gently paced mules for Mairi and the children to ride. Eilan rode with Mairi's older child before her, warmly wrapped against the light rain. She was not used to riding and it took all her concentration to balance behind the excited child. The distance was not great, but the unaccustomed journey seemed long.\n\nDarkness was just falling as they came within the palisaded walls. Within the compound were half a dozen large buildings; Caillean took Mairi and her children to a guesthouse, lifting the little boy down from his perch before Eilan, and pointed out a large building of stout timbers, thatched almost down to the ground.\n\n\"There is the House of Maidens,\" she said. \"The chief of the younger priestesses, Eilidh, has been told of your coming, and she will welcome you there. I will come later when I can; but first I must go and see if Lhiannon needs me.\"\n\nThe new moon-the first of Mairi's newborn's life-rode low on the western horizon. As the serving woman led her into the building and across an inner enclosure, Eilan was surprised to find that already she missed her sister.\n\nThen agate opened and the woman led her into the inner court. Ahead of her was along building something like her father's feasting hall. As she passed through the door a sea of strange faces surrounded her. She looked around, feeling abandoned. The serving woman had left her alone at the door. The hall seemed very large and there was a faint scent of sweet herbs in the air. Then one of the priestesses came forward." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am Eilidh,\" she said.\n\n\"Where is my kinswoman, Dieda?\" asked Eilan nervously. \"I had hoped to see her here-\"\n\n\"Dieda attends on Lhiannon and is secluded with her in preparation for the rites of Lughnasad,\" said the priestess. \" She is your cousin? I would have thought you even more closely akin; even twins.\n\n\"Caillean has asked me to take you in charge, for now that she is back she will have to attend Lhiannon. You are almost as beautiful as she told me.\"\n\nEilan colored shyly and lowered her eyes. The priestess was herself quite beautiful; fair-haired, with curly short hair that circled her face in the lamplight, like a delicate halo. She was dressed like the other junior priestesses, not in the dark robes they wore outside the walls but in a dress of undyed linen of an extremely old-fashioned cut, girdled with a woven belt of green.\n\n\"You must behalf dead with fatigue,\" Eilidh said kindly. \"Come to the fire, child, and get warm.\"\n\nEilan obeyed, feeling a little stunned by all the strange faces. She had not thought what might confront her here. Now she wondered what she would find, and whether she had made a decision she would regret all her life.\n\n\"Don't be afraid of us,\" said a grave voice behind her. The new speaker was tall and sturdy, with reddish hair.\n\n\"There aren't half as many of us as there seem to be. You should have seen me when I first came here, staring about me and sobbing like a wild thing. My name is Miellyn. I have been here five or six years, and now I cannot imagine any other life. All my friends are here, and one day you will have friends here too. For all that we must seem so strange to you now.\" She took Eilan's cloak from her, and laid it aside." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I think Lhiannon wishes to speak with you before anything else,\" said Eilidh, \"so come with me.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So saying, she led Eilan across a blustery courtyard to a separate dwelling and rapped on the door. After a moment they heard footsteps and Caillean peered out.\n\n\"Eilan? Come in, child,\" she said, gesturing to someone behind her. \"Dieda, you see, I have brought Eilan to you at last.\"\n\n\"So you have,\" said Dieda, emerging from the shadows behind her. \"My father, the Arch-Druid, is here too; and Bendeigid, so we shall be a regular family party, I suppose.\" She laughed, and Eilan thought she had never heard so cynical a sound. \"And if he has his way Cynric will be brought here as well. I have heard they want to use your Sight, Caillean.\"\n\n\"Or yours, perhaps,\" said Caillean, and Dieda laughed a little. Eilan sensed hostility between the two and wondered why.\n\n\"I think they know what I would say to that,\" Dieda said. \"If it is to seek out Cynric, yes; but to make an oracle for Lhiannon to deliver obediently as if she were no more than a puppet for the will of Rome-\"\n\n\"In the name of the Goddess, any goddess, be silent, child,\" Caillean ordered, listening to agate slamming somewhere nearby. \"What is it? Who is here?\"\n\n\"Only his holiness, my father,\" Dieda muttered, \"and the greatest priestess of all the Forest House, who will obediently deliver such oracles as he shall desire.\"\n\n\"Be silent, you wretched creature,\" hissed Caillean. \"You well know that what you say is sacrilege.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Or perhaps there is a greater sacrilege here, in which I have no part,\" Dieda replied. \"Perhaps, with Sight, they want to make certain they send the Romans against the right party. If so, what will you do, Caillean?\"\n\n\"I will do whatever Lhiannon commands,\" said Caillean, her voice sharpening. \"As we all do.\"\n\nCaillean was trying to speak reasonably to soften Dieda's wrath; but the other girl seemed angrier than ever. Dieda had always been sharp-tongued, but Eilan had never heard her so bitter before.\n\n\"I know what you would have us think-\" Dieda began, but Caillean's face flushed with anger. Still she spoke calmly.\n\n\"You know perfectly well that it is not what you think, or what I think, that matters,\" she began, \"but what the High Priestess wills; and that is what I will do.\"\n\n\"If it is her will,\" Dieda answered more quietly, \"but under present conditions, how can Lhiannon's will be done-even if her will could somehow be determined or if she even has one anymore.\"\n\n\"Dieda, I have heard this all before,\" Caillean said wearily. \"But is it such an evil thing to summon our kinsman Cynric so that he may fittingly mourn his foster mother?\"\n\n\"We could have done that weeks ago,\" Dieda began.\n\n\"Perhaps, but that is all that you-or I-are being asked to do,\" Caillean repeated. \"Why have you set yourself so stubbornly against it now?\"\n\n\"Because I know, if you do not,\" Dieda said, \"that this use of power is to trick Cynric into doing what his whole life has been spent in learning to oppose; what Bendeigid himself would rather die than do, and that is to clasp hands with Rome. Know you not that for his sake it was that Bendeigid allowed himself to be proscribed?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Oh, in the name of the Goddess, girl!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I know something of Cynric too, and of Bendeigid,\" said Caillean crossly. \"And, believe it or not, even something of the Romans; at least I have lived under their rule longer than you. And I say that there shall be no violence done to your precious ethical precepts, nor to Cynric's. Do you think, perhaps, that you are the only person in all of Britannia who knows what Cynric wishes to do?\"\n\n\"I know enough-\" Dieda began, but Caillean said harshly, \"Hush; they will hear us. And Eilan must be thoroughly confused by now-\"\n\nDieda's face softened. \"I suppose so, and it is an ill welcome for her to hear us disputing so.\" She came and embraced Eilan, who knew enough not to protest lest she start the argument again.\n\nAt this moment the inner door opened and Lhiannon stood before them.\n\n\"Children, are you quarreling?\"\n\n\"Of course not, my mother,\" said Caillean quickly. And after a moment Dieda added, \"No, certainly not, Holy Mother; we were only welcoming the new novice.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes; I heard that Eilan was to come,\" said Lhiannon, and turned her gaze on the young girl who stood quietly between them. Eilan felt her heart thump loudly as she looked at the woman she had last seen standing like a goddess beside the Beltane fire.\n\n\"So you are Eilan?\" Lhiannon's voice was sweet but a little thin, as if being the mouthpiece of the Goddess for so many years had worn its strength away. \"It is true; you are very like Dieda; I suppose you are weary of being told that. But we must devise someway to tell you apart here at the shrine.\" She smiled, and Eilan felt an odd surge of protectiveness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lhiannon reached out one hand to Eilan, who was still standing nervously by the door. \"Come in, child. Your father and grandfather are herewith us, you know.\" Eilan wondered why she should be surprised, since her father had escorted her here. Was he then living among the priests?\n\nLhiannon took Eilan's arm gently and drew the girl into the inner room, adding to the two older priestesses, in her sweet voice, \"Come in too. Both of you will be needed here.\"\n\nThe inner room seemed small, or perhaps it was only that too many people had crowded into it. Smoke curled thickly from herbs burning in a brazier in the center of the room; their smell made Eilan's head swim. Between the smoke and the crowd, fora moment she found it hard to breathe.\n\nAfter a moment her focus steadied and she saw her father, his face made gaunt by the past moon's grief until he looked almost as old as Ardanos.\n\nHer grandfather, who was adding something to the fire, looked up at the women and said, \"So we are all here. And once again I am confused; which of you is which?\"\n\nEilan stood silent, waiting for someone older to answer, but Dieda said boldly, \"It is easy to tell, Father. Eilan has not yet been given the dress of a priestess.\"\n\n\"So that is how you expect me to tell my daughter from my granddaughter! Well, perhaps it is only the smoke inhere. But I still find them too much alike for my comfort,\" said the older Druid briskly. \"So, Eilan, you have arrived here at a sad time; we must summon Cynric to our Councils, and as he has been brought up with you as a foster brother your assistance will be helpful. Are you ready, Caillean?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Caillean said quietly, \"If Lhiannon wills it.\"\n\n\"I do,\" Lhiannon answered. \"Whatever comes of this, Cynric must know of the death of his foster mother and of these new outrages. The Romans are not our only enemies-\"\n\nDieda said quietly through her teeth, \"How would you like to say that to Mairi at this moment, Father?\"\n\n\"Peace, child,\" Ardanos said. \"Whatever you may think, Macellius Severus is a good man; he was as angry when I told him as if his own house had been burnt.\"\n\n\"I doubt that,\" Dieda murmured, but low enough so that only Caillean and Eilan could hear.\n\nThe old Druid frowned at her; then he said, \"Caillean, my child-\"\n\nCaillean, with a glance at Lhiannon, went to a cupboard and took out a small silver bowl, simple but for an elaborate chasing of patterns on the outside. She filled it with water from a ewer and set it on the table. Ardanos pulled up a three-legged stool so that she could sit down before it, while Lhiannon took her place in a carved chair nearby.\n\nArdanos waved Caillean aside. \"Wait,\" he said; \"Dieda, it was you who were closest to him; it is you who must look into the water and summon him.\"\n\nDieda flushed and fora moment Eilan wondered if she would refuse outright. Dieda had always had more courage than she-or had her grandfather mistaken them again? He was looking at her; then he turned aside and his eyes sought out Dieda. \"You were pledged,\" he said. \"I ask it of you, child-\" and his voice was more tender than Eilan had ever heard it. \"For your sister's sake I ask it; she was his foster mother before you were born.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Eilan thought, He plays onus all as if we were his harps." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But Dieda could not ignore the tenderness in his voice either. She murmured, \"As you will, Father,\" and took her place before the bowl.\n\nArdanos began, \"So then, we are gathered herein this place that is already protected and purified to summon Cynric, the foster son of Bendeigid. All of you, who are of all the living the nearest he has to kindred, must hold his image in memory, and add the calling of your hearts to mine.\" He struck the floor with his staff, and Eilan heard the sweet jangle of silver bells.\n\n\"Cynric, Cynric, now do we call you!\" his strong, bard-trained voice rang out suddenly, and Eilan blinked, for suddenly the room seemed to have become darker, and Ardanos-his whole body, not just his white robes-seemed to glow. \"Strong son, beloved boy, your kindred call you... Warrior, Raven-son, we summon you by the powers of earth and oak and fire!\"\n\nAs the echoes of his calling faded, Dieda's breathing, growing harsher as she drew in great lungfuls of scented smoke, was the only sound in the room. Eilan stifled a cough. Even the small amount of the smoke she had breathed in had made her dizzy; she could imagine what it was doing to Dieda, who gazed into the water unmoving.\n\nOnly now did Eilan notice Dieda's longhair hanging loosely to either side so that it framed the bowl. They had all moved into a loose circle. From where she stood Eilan could seethe surface of the water. Her skin prickled a little as Dieda swayed, or was it she herself? Perhaps it was the world that was moving; she blinked as the shapes around her dimmed and flowed until the only thing on which she could focus was the surface of the bowl." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As she stared, it slowly clouded over, and after a moment there was a gray swirling that first darkened, then cleared. Eilan gasped; a face, a well-known face-that face of her foster brother Cynric-peered from the water.\n\nDieda stifled a cry, then said quietly but clearly, as if she spoke to someone along way off, \"Cynric, you must come. This time it is not a Roman outrage but the people of the North who have burned your house and have killed your mother and sister. Return to the Ordovici lands. Your foster father is alive and has need of you.\"\n\nAfter a time the face disappeared, the water swirled darkly in the bowl, and Dieda stood up, clutching a little dizzily at the edge of the table. \"He will come,\" she said. \"The keeper of the college of priestesses there will give him supplies. With good roads and good weather he should be herein a few days.\"\n\nBendeigid said, \"But what of the barbarians who burnt our house? If you are not too wearied, child, we must see them and know whence we go to punish them-\"\n\n\"I will not,\" said Dieda. Her hair was still hanging about her face. \"Always you can bend me to your will, but let Caillean do this; it is her will that we work with the Romans in this, not mine. I will find it hard to forgive you.\"\n\n\"My child-\"\n\n\"Oh, I well know the necessity; but to use me to draw Cynric here, how could you?\"\n\nCaillean took the bowl and flung the water out through the door, letting in a welcome blast of fresh air. Yet in spite of the warmth of the summer night after a few moments Eilan began to feel cold. Caillean refilled the bowl and bent over it, motionless." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This time it seemed that the picture took longer to form, and the swirling clouds in the water lasted longer. Caillean's intent face grew paler, pale as death; then she spoke, softly still, and with a deathly weariness in her voice. \"Behold, if you will.\"\n\nEilan never knew what the others saw, but as the surface of the water cleared, before her eyes a small picture formed: the raiders as they had been when they burst into Mairi's house, arrested, frozen on the doorstep; men clad in multicolored and ragged fabric. Some bore swords, which she had not seen at the time, and some bore spears. The picture was so clear that she could seethe raindrops glittering on their ragged blond or reddish beards and long streaming hair. The men crowded around the bowl, blocking the image that Eilan saw still in memory and knew she would be able to call up at will until the day she died.\n\nIn her memory she saw Caillean rush forward, scooping up handfuls of live coals and scattering them towards the strange men. She supposed that her father and grandfather must have seen something like this, for her father's face was clenched and drawn tight. \"Red Rian,\" he said between his teeth. \"A curse on his sword and his shadow! And they are on the seashore still-\"\n\n\"So be it, and I add my curse to yours for what that is worth,\" Lhiannon said, stirring in her chair. \"I declare to you that your people and the Romans together shall work to punish them.\"\n\nBendeigid began to speak but Lhiannon silenced him with a gesture. \"Enough; I have said it. Now go; let it be as Caillean has seen and I have declared. You can take Red Rian on the seashore.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Lady, how know you this?\"\n\n\"Have you forgotten that I and mine can rule the winds when we choose?\" Lhiannon said. \"He will not find a breeze to bear him hence till you have caught up with him. Will all this content you?\"\n\n\"For the sake of vengeance against those devils-if it must be so,\" Bendeigid declared. \"But I swore to ally even with Romans if they would help me to vengeance, though it goes against the grain-and we will need their help to drive these raiders and murderers forever from our shores!\"\n\nDieda drew along breath. \"Will you await the coming of Cynric?\"\n\n\"That will beat least partly for Macellius to say,\" Bendeigid said grudgingly after a moment. Lhiannon's gaze fell on Eilan.\n\n\"But look you, our newest novice is quite perished with cold,\" she said. \"Where is your cloak, child?\"\n\n\"I left it in the other hall with the priestesses,\" Eilan murmured, unsuccessfully trying to control her shivering.\n\n\"You must go to bed soon. But the herbs have burned off now, come to the brazier and warm yourself, child. Ina little, Caillean shall see to taking you to the novices' dormitory and give you nightclothes and the dress of a priestess.\"\n\n\"Well said,\" put in Ardanos, \"and it is time we were going as well.\"\n\nLhiannon drew Eilan to the fire, and gradually the girl's shivering subsided. But still she trembled within. Caillean put an arm around her.\n\n\"It will pass, child, I know... It can be very cold between the worlds; I felt you riding with me, though it was not intended. We shall have to guard against that another time.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bendeigid wrapped his cloak around him, but before he followed Ardanos out he paused before Eilan. \"Daughter.\" He coughed as Eilan looked up to meet his gaze. \"I do not know when we will meet again. But I leave you in safety, and that is a comfort tome. May the Goddess bless you here.\" He embraced her.\n\n\"I will pray to Her for your safety, Father,\" she said softly, her throat tightening.\n\nBendeigid reached out and touched the tendrils that had escaped from the braid coiled upon her brow. \"Your mother's hair grew just this way,\" he whispered, and quickly, then, kissed heron the brow. She was blinking back tears when the door closed behind him.\n\n\"Well, that is done, and it is late indeed,\" Caillean said with a touch of relief. \"Eilan, is there anything you want to ask me?\" She came and took the girl into a hearty embrace. \"If you are warm now, come along and I will get you settled into the novices' dormitory.\"\n\nThis time with Caillean at her side, Eilan crossed the windy courtyard which separated Lhiannon's dwelling from the hall where she had first been welcomed among the priestesses. Years later, when she knew every inch of these dwellings as well as the house in which she had been born, she was to remember her first sight of the Forest House and wonder that on this night it had seemed so enormous.\n\nEilidh and some of the other women were still gathered in the hall where Eilan had been first welcomed. They all looked at Eilan with curiosity, but a gesture from Caillean kept them still.\n\n\"We cannot ask you yet to take vows,\" Caillean said to Eilan, \"but for your first year among us you must make promises.\" She stood upright and her face changed. Eilan watched her warily, wondering what was coming now." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"First of all-you have come among us of your freewill?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You have not been forced or threatened into seeking admission here?\"\n\nEilan looked at her, astonished. \"You know I have not been.\"\n\n\"Hush-it is routine. You must answer in your own words.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" Eilan said. \"I came here at my own wish.\" This seemed very silly to her. She wondered if they had asked Dieda this, and what the other girl had answered.\n\n\"Do you promise that you will treat every woman in this dwelling as your sister, mother and daughter, as your own kin?\"\n\n\"I will.\" She now had no mother living, and if she took permanent vows, she would have no daughter either.\n\n\"Do you promise that you will obey every lawful command given you by an older priestess here, and that you will lie with no man-\" Caillean stopped and made a face, amending, \"saving only that you may lie with the Summer King, if his choice should fall on you.\"\n\nEilan smiled. \"I will obey, and it is no hardship to promise to give myself to no man.\" Since the one man I could have loved is forbidden tome.\n\nCaillean nodded. \"So be it,\" she said. \"In the name of the Goddess, who, though She has many names, is one, I accept you.\"\n\nShe embraced Eilan, and, one by one, the other priestesses did the same. By the time they were done, Eilan found herself weeping, as if in some odd way she had regained the kindred she had lost.\n\nThe older priestess put Eilan's cloak over her shoulders and led her through a thatched passageway to a roundhouse with about a dozen beds-not box beds such as she was accustomed to, but narrow cots-set round the wall. Some of them were already occupied. One or two girls sat up, blinking sleepily, as Caillean pulled back the curtain of the bed nearest the door, then lay back again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A place has been made for you here,\" whispered Caillean. She put Eilan into a coarse white shift which seemed a little too big. \"Someone will wake you for the sunrise services in the grove. Do not expect to see me-I will be attending upon Lhiannon in preparation for the ceremonies of the full moon. Here is the dress you are to wear tomorrow.\" She took from a nearby chest a bundle of clothing.\n\nEilan got into the narrow bed and Caillean tucked her under the thick blanket. Then she bent down to embrace her, and Eilan sat up to hug her back.\n\n\"Whatever you may think, remember that you are welcome among us,\" Caillean said. \"Even to Dieda; she is very unhappy now, but a day will come when she is glad you are here too.\"\n\nShe kissed Eilan on the forehead. \"Tomorrow one of the girls will help you to dress in the robes of a priestess; most likely Eilidh. And fora day or two she will go everywhere with you and show you what to do.\"\n\nEilan lay back. The sheets were rough against her skin, and smelled of scented herbs. She asked, wanting to prolong the moment, \"What scent is that on the sheet?\"\n\n\"Lavender; we lay it among our linens when we wash them.\"\n\nEilan told herself not to be surprised. The priestesses were women, if not exactly like any others she had known; of course they took thought to the plucking of herbs and the washing of linens like anyone else. She too would learn all these things.\n\nCaillean said quietly, \"Sleep now, and don't worry. It is well that you have come here. I think you have a very special destiny among us.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Neither of them could have guessed how that prophecy was to be fulfilled." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Why do we keep secret from the common folk the names of those herbs that are most powerful for healing?\" Old Latis, the most senior of their herbalists, turned to the girls who were sitting beneath the oak tree, holding a stalk of foxglove bells in her hand.\n\n\"So they will have to come to us and respect the priestesses?\" asked one of the younger girls.\n\n\"Their respect must be earned, child,\" Latis said sternly. \"Unlearned they maybe, but they are not stupid. The reason for secrecy lies deeper-that which is most powerful for good is also powerful for evil, handled wrongly. Foxglove can stimulate an ailing heart, but give too much and it will gallop like a frightened horse until it breaks down. For the healer, judgment is all.\"\n\nEilan frowned, for she had never thought of it quite that way. Later, looking back on her years in the Forest House, she wondered what she had expected. Peace, perhaps, or mystery, and even a little boredom. She had not expected that days spent studying with a group of other women would be simply so interesting.\n\nHer nights were harder, for in the first months she often dreamed of Gaius. At times she saw him riding with his men, or practicing with the sword. He swore sometimes as the blade bit into the man-shaped wooden post-This for Senara, and this for Rheis. This, for Eilan! When he finished his brow would be damp with sweat, but the moisture on his cheeks was tears.\n\nEilan would wake, then, weeping for his sorrow. She understood now how the grief of the living could torment the departed. She thought of sending a message to let him know she still lived, but there was noway to do it, and presently she began to realize that she was indeed dead to him, and the sooner he accepted that, the better for both of them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "In these early months, she was only one of a group of potential priestesses." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She spent much of her time beginning to memorize the whole body of Druidic lore. Just as the gods might not be worshipped in a temple made with human hands, none of the divine lore might be entrusted to writing. Sometimes she thought this strange, for the human memory was itself so fragile. But she had seen her teachers perform amazing feats of memorization. Much of the old knowledge had been lost when Mona was destroyed, but much remained. Ardanos, for instance, could recite the whole of the Law from memory.\n\nShe was happy enough with her fellow priestesses. The ones she knew best were the two who had welcomed her to the House of Maidens that first night: Eilidh and Miellyn.\n\nEilidh was older than she looked and had been in the Forest House since early childhood. Miellyn was closer to her own age. Apart from these two, she best knew a woman named Celimon who was about forty, whose major task was to instruct the youngest priestesses and officiate at some of the less important rituals.\n\nHer first task was to memorize every detail of those rites in which the maidens assisted, for if a mistake were made, a ceremony would have to be begun again. Two or three times Eilan had caused such an interruption. She felt foolish, but Miellyn assured her that they had all been through it.\n\nEilan was also instructed in the motions of moon and stars. She spent many night hours lying between Miellyn and Eilidh in a secluded part of the enclosure, watching the Great Wain swinging endlessly about the North Star, and the solemn march of the planets as they rose and fell and the Northern Lights flashed and circled in the summer sky. She learned that the earth went round the sun-of all the wonders, the hardest to believe. From all her early years in the Forest House these nights best captured her imagination; lying warmly cloaked on the damp grass with Caillean's voice floating above them in the darkness, intoning long stories of the stars." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She wished sometimes to learn to accompany the singing, but on one of the few occasions when she was allowed to spend sometime with Caillean, she was told that women did not play the harp in the ceremonies.\n\n\"But why? Women can be bards now, can't they, like Dieda? And you play a harp, do you not?\"\n\nIt was warm, and in the grove outside the walls one of the younger priests from the Druidic college across the fields was practicing. He was not very good at it, but it was very hard to play a harp so badly that listening would be painful. Even though the melody halted, each note was pure and clear.\n\n\"My instrument is a lyre, Lhiannon's first gift tome, and I have played it for years, so no one dares object. And talent like Dieda's cannot be denied.\" Caillean's dark eyes flashed.\n\n\"It does not make sense. Why is it I cannot learn?\" asked Eilan. However badly she might play, she could surely do better than that fellow outside, who did not seem to have noticed that as the day grew warmer his upper strings were going out of tune.\n\n\"Of course it does not make sense,\" Caillean replied. \"A great deal that the priests do makes no sense; and they know it. That is one reason why I will not be allowed to succeed Lhiannon. Ardanos is aware that I know it too.\"\n\n\"Do you want to be High Priestess?\" asked Eilan, her eyes rounding.\n\n\"Heaven forbid,\" said Caillean fervently. \"I would be running head-on against the will of the priesthood-which is like a stonewall-everyday of my life. Leadership is another thing the men wish to keep for themselves. I think it has got worse since they encountered the Romans. They wish to keep the weapons, and the harps, and everything else save for the suffering of childbirth and the toil of the cooking pot and the loom. I daresay they would like to say women cannot serve the gods, but no one would be foolish enough to believe that. But why do you want to learn to play a harp?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan said, \"Because I love music, and I cannot sing.\"\n\n\"Your voice is soft but sweet, for I have heard it.\"\n\n\"Grandfather says that next to Dieda, I croak like a frog,\" Eilan said bitterly. \"In our house it was always left to her to sing.\"\n\n\"I think he is mistaken; but this time I will not argue, for even I must admit that he is one of our greatest bards. Dieda has a very beautiful voice, perhaps from him. Next to such a voice as your kinswoman's we are all frogs croaking, child, so do not grieve. You can learn the stories of the gods, even if you cannot sing them as well as she; I think you will have no trouble becoming a spell singer anyway. We cannot all have the finest voices, even among the bards.\"\n\nAnd, indeed, Eilan was taught to sing many of the spells she had to memorize, and a few of the simpler Words of Power were confided to her, even that first year.\n\nOne day when she was being instructed in spells by Caillean, the older woman asked, \"Do you remember that night after Mairi's child was born, when I frightened away the raiders by throwing fire at them?\"\n\n\"I will never forget it,\" Eilan said.\n\n\"Remember I told you that you could learn to do it, if you had the proper teaching?\"\n\nEilan nodded, her heart beginning to pound, whether with excitement or fear, she did not know.\n\n\"Well, I will teach you now. The important thing to remember is that the fire cannot harm you; you have seen me handle it, and so you know within yourself that it can be done.\" She picked up the girl's slender white fingers in her own cool ones and breathed on the palm of Eilan's hand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Now,\" she said, \"the important thing is to trust yourself. Reach quickly into the fire, and pickup a handful of live coals; the fire can only harm you because you believe it is in the nature of fire to burn; once you know its true spiritual nature, you can handle it as you would a handful of dry leaves. Fire burns within you as it burns on the hearth. How can one flame harm another? Let the spark of life within you welcome fire!\"\n\nEilan quailed, but it was true that she had seen Caillean do this trick; and she trusted the older woman completely. She reached towards the brazier of live coals; heat touched her face, but Caillean said firmly, \"Do not hesitate-do it quickly!\" And Eilan thrust her hand into the flames.\n\nOn her cheeks she could still feel heat, but to her astonishment, the coals felt like a handful of winter snow. Caillean, watching her wondering face, said, \"Drop it, quickly now.\" Eilan opened her fingers against a sudden blast of heat and the coals rolled onto the hearthstone. She stared at her hands in wonder.\n\n\"Did I really do that?\"\n\n\"You did,\" Caillean said. The coal had reached a cloth lying in the hearth, which began to smolder. A strong stink of burning cloth rose suddenly from the singed edges as Caillean picked it up and blew it out.\n\nEilan stared at her in astonishment. \"How did you know that in another moment it was going to burn?\"\n\nCaillean said, \"I could feel you beginning to think and wonder and doubt. Doubt is the enemy of magic. We are taught to do things like this to astonish the common people with wonders and marvels, or to guard ourselves in danger. But you must learn,\" she cautioned, \"that it is not right to do miracles for the sake of merely astonishing the once-born. Even to preserve yourself against danger, you must be wary of doing what may seem miracles. It may not have been altogether wise to use it that night in Mairi's house; but done is done. Now that you know it is possible, you shall learn when it is right to use such things, and when it is not.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As the year's passage was marked by the festivals, the girls received not only the lore of the gods each festival honored but the meaning behind the tales, many of which, true in symbol, were not true in fact. They argued about the virginity of the goddess Arianrhod, and the fate of the bright son she so unwillingly bore; they analyzed the transformations of Gwion who tasted the brew in the cauldron of wisdom. They learned the secret lore of the Sacred King and the Lady of Sovereignty. And in the darkest days of winter, they contemplated the mysteries of the shadowy goddesses whose bloody faces and withered flesh were the embodiment of men's fears.\n\n\"But why do men fear old women?\" Eilidh asked. \"They do not feel that way about old men!\"\n\n\"The old man becomes a sage, something fora man to aspire to,\" Caillean told them. \"They fear the hag because she is beyond their power. With the coming of her moonblood a girl becomes a woman. She needs a man to become a mother, and a mother needs a man to protect her children. But the old woman knows all the secrets of birth and death; she has rebirthed herself and needs nothing. So of course the man, who knows only the first change that brings him to manhood, is afraid.\"\n\nLhiannon's name was sacred even when the younger girls giggled about their elders late at night in the Hall of Maidens, but Eilan could not help wondering if the High Priestess had gone through the rebirth Caillean had described. Old as she was, one could not imagine that any human grief or passion had ever touched her. She had lain with no man, borne no child; she drifted through the Forest House in a cloud of lavender scent and trailing draperies, her smile sweet and vague and distant as if she moved through her own private reality." }, { "from": "human", "value": "And yet Caillean loved her." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan could not allow herself to forget that the older priestess, with whom that night of Mairi's childbirth had given her so deep a bond, saw something in the High Priestess that she herself had not seen; but she would take it on faith that it was there.\n\nWhen they began to teach the girls the disciplines that would give them access to the inner planes, Eilan applied herself with diligence. Such things-dreams and intuitions-had always come to her easily and without warning. Now she learned to bring the visions at will, and when it was necessary, to wall them away.\n\nShe learned the work of seeing visions in a bowl of water and the use of spells for far-seeing. One of the first things she saw through her scrying was the battle with the raiders who had destroyed her home.\n\n\"A blessing on the Lady of Vernemeton, if it is she who has sent this wind!\" said Cynric, sniffing the mist that was blowing past him, heavy with the scent of the sea.\n\n\"She was as good as her word,\" answered Bendeigid beside him. \"Since the third day after they burned my hall this wind has blown. When the scattered bands came back to load their curraghs with their spoils they found the breeze dead against them.\" He grinned mirthlessly. \"We shall pin them between the strand and the sea!\"\n\nFrom nearby came a hard-edged order, and the rhythmic tramp of hobnailed sandals came to a halt. Cynric grimaced, glad the wind had not carried the sound to the enemy. As well to go in with clarions shrilling than to let the raiders hear that ominous tread. The Britons were not nearly so orderly, but a great deal quieter." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He still found himself stiffening whenever the crest of a Roman helmet appeared through the mist. He had never expected to be fighting side by side with his enemy. But if, for the sake of a greater good, even Bendeigid could suspend his hatred, he supposed he could do the same.\n\nThen Bendeigid laid a hand on his sleeve and Cynric halted, peering through the fringe of scrubby alders that stretched between them and the shore. He could smell woodsmoke and the rank odor of the privy trench-not very well tended. It was true, one could track vermin from the smell. He eased his shield down from his shoulder and got a better grip on his spear.\n\nCynric's heart was pounding oddly and his mouth was dry. You longed for real battle, how can you be afraid? he asked himself. Would you have hidden behind Rheis's skirts if you had been there when they attacked the hall? At the thought, his panic changed to fury.\n\nThen the Roman trumpets blared. Bendeigid gave tongue with a guttural roar and Cynric found his own throat opening. Howling, the Britons ran forward. Cynric pushed through the trees, spear ready, and heard the Roman charge beating out an accompaniment to the British cries.\n\nAs the Romans drove down upon the foe the Britons fell upon their rear. A warrior turned, his form distorted by the mist to that of a monster. He was a monster! Cynric's training took over and he jabbed upward; he felt the shock and heard the cry as the blade went in. But he had no time to react, for another man was coming at him. A sword-stroke clattered on his shield. Side-vision showed him the Roman troopers, cutting through the foe with mechanical efficiency. Cynric jerked the spear free and swung, seeing in each contorted face his enemy." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Cynric could not tell if half a day or half a lifetime had passed when he realized there was no one attacking him anymore." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All around him lay bodies, and Bendeigid was methodically giving the mercy stroke to any that still lived. He was covered with blood, but none of it seemed to be his own. Once he had fallen and thought himself done for, but a legionary had stood above him, covering him with that big oblong shield until he could rise.\n\nHe realized that you could hate someone and still admire them. He would never love Romans, but he could see now there might be something to be learned from them. At this moment, even his own Roman blood did not seem so evil a thing. He heard a crackle of flame and saw that Ardanos was directing the burning of the enemy curraghs. The smoke stank of burnt meat, but the round, leather-covered boats burned merrily. Cynric turned away, wondering if he were going to be ill.\n\nBut one boat had been kept back, and one of the raiders had been saved alive, though blinded, to man it.\n\nArdanos lifted his hands to the skies, shouting something in the old speech that only the Druids used. Fora moment the breeze died, then it backed and began to blow from landward. Ardanos set his hand upon the rim of the curragh, holding it.\n\n\"I have called the winds to speed you,\" he told the man inside. \"If the gods love you, you will come to Eriu once more. Be you our messenger, and take them this word,\" Ardanos said fiercely, \"that if you come again to these shores, the same will be done to everyone of you.\"\n\nThe vision faded, and Eilan sank back, shuddering. She had never seen serious fighting, and it filled her with horror, yet she found herself rejoicing fiercely as the raiders died. One of these men had certainly killed her mother and probably her younger sister, and set aflame the house in which she had been born." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She peered into the water, seeking the face of Gaius, but caught no sight of him. Had he fallen in some earlier skirmish with the enemy, believing her dead in the ruins of her home? Well, better that he should think her dead than faithless, she told herself, but she was surprised at how much, even now, the thought that he was the one who might have died brought her grief. The night they sat beside the Beltane fires they had seemed one being. Surely if he were killed, she could not help but know.\n\nBut presently the steady flow of her life in the Forest House washed the pain even from the memory of Gaius and what might have been.\n\nWith the others, she took her turn at gathering the sacred plants and herbs, learning which of them should be gathered by a particular light of sun or moon.\n\n\"This lore is older than the Druids,\" Miellyn confided to her once when they were paired. Miellyn, although she had come to the Forest House long ago, was not many years older than Eilan and the two, as the two youngest in the house, were often paired off in their work. Miellyn had chosen to become a priestess of the healing arts, and had already had extensive training. \"Some of it comes down from the old days, even before our people came into this land.\"\n\nIt had been a wet spring, and along the banks of the brook that wandered through the fields behind the Forest House, the mugwort plants were waist high. The sharp pungent scent of their leaves was almost dizzying as she stripped them from their stalks. The priestesses used them to induce visions, and in an infusion to ease sore muscles.\n\n\"Caillean told me something of this,\" Eilan answered. \"There was a time, she says, when there were no Druid priests in Britannia. When our people came they killed the priests of the tribes they conquered, but they did not dare to kill the priestesses of the Great Mother. Our own sacred women learned from them, and added the ancient knowledge to their own.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is true,\" Miellyn said, moving along the riverbank. \"Caillean has studied these things more than I, and she is a priestess of the Oracle. They, at least, go back to a time well before the Forest House was built and long before the Order of Druids came to this island of Britain. They say that their first priestesses came here from an island far out in the western ocean that now is sunk beneath the waves. With them came the priest men called the Merlin, who taught the lore of the stars and of the standing stones.\"\n\nFora moment they contemplated an almost unimaginable antiquity. Then a little breeze fluttered their skirts, and brought them back to the beauty of the green world around them.\n\n\"Is that feverfew or chervil?\" Eilan pointed at amass of low-growing bright green foliage with small jagged leaves.\n\n\"Chervil. See how tender the stems are? It has just sprung up here. Feverfew lives through the winter, and its stem is woody. But it is true, the leaves look much the same.\"\n\n\"There is so much to remember!\" Eilan exclaimed. \"If our people did not always live here, how did we learn all this lore?\"\n\n\"Men are by nature wanderers,\" said Miellyn, \"though you may not think it, rooted among us here. Every people has moved from somewhere, and had to learn the ways of the land from the people who were there before. The last of our own tribes came to this island only about a hundred years before the Romans, and from much the same part of the world.\"\n\n\"You would think the Romans would know more about us, then, if we were neighbors,\" said Eilan.\n\n\"They knew enough about our warriors to be afraid.\" Miellyn grinned fiercely. \"Maybe that is why they spread such scandals about us. Tell me, Eilan, have you ever seen any man burnt on our altars? Or any woman either?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No, nor anyone put to death except for criminals,\" replied Eilan. \"How can the Romans say such things about us?\"\n\n\"Why should they not? They are ignorant men,\" said Miellyn scornfully. \"They set down all their knowledge on bits of leather or waxed wood or tablets of stone and think that is wisdom. What good does it do apiece of stone to have knowledge? Even I, a young priestess, know it is the understanding graven in the heart that makes men wise. Can you learn the ways of the herbs from a book? It is not enough even to be told. You must seek out the plants yourself, handle them, love them, watch them grow. Then you can use them for healing, for their spirits will speak to you.\"\n\n\"Perhaps their women know more,\" said Eilan. \"For I have heard the Romans do not teach the craft of letters to all their womenfolk. I wonder what wisdom the mothers pass onto their daughters that the men do not know?\"\n\nMiellyn made a face. \"Perhaps they are afraid that if women learned bookcraft too there would not be enough work for scribes and the letter writers of the marketplace.\"\n\n\"Caillean said something like that, soon after I came here,\" Eilan said and shivered, though the day was warm, remembering the cold winds during the scrying. \"But I have not seen much of her since then. I wonder sometimes if I have angered her.\"\n\n\"You must not pay too much attention to what Caillean says, or does not say,\" Miellyn cautioned. \"She has suffered a great deal, and she is... immoderate in her opinions sometimes. But it is true the Romans do not think much of what women can do.\"\n\n\"Then they are foolish.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I know that. You know that,\" Miellyn said. \"But there are some Romans who do not yet know it. Let us hope that they learn it during our lifetime. Our own priests can be foolish too. Someone told me you wished to learn to play the harp. Have you heard Caillean play her lyre?\"\n\nEilan shook her head. \"Not often.\" Suddenly she remembered the occasion where Caillean had taught her to handle fire, and shivered.\n\nMiellyn said, \"You really must not mind Caillean's strange ways; she is very solitary. Sometimes for days she speaks to no one, except perhaps to Lhiannon. I know Caillean likes you; I have heard her say so.\"\n\nEilan looked at her and then quickly away. It had certainly seemed so that night at Mairi's, after Caillean had driven the raiders away. She realized now how unusual it had been for the older woman to reveal herself that way. Perhaps that was why she had avoided Eilan so much since then.\n\nMiellyn had spotted a place where wild thyme grew beneath a tree and was using her little curved knife to cut the stems. The scent came sweet and sharp to Eilan's nostrils as she bent to gather it.\n\n\"Speak to her of her harp,\" Miellyn added then.\n\n\"I thought you said it was not a harp-\"\n\n\"Indeed, Caillean went to considerable trouble to explain the difference-\" Miellyn grinned. \"The strings go into a box at the base instead of the side, but the sound is much the same. She knows many songs of Eriu. They are very strange indeed; somehow they all sound like the sea. She knows all of the old songs too, though because of our training we all remember more than most people. If they had been willing to train women as bards before so many of the priests had been killed, perhaps she would have been one.\" Irresistibly, Miellyn began to giggle. \"Or she might have been the High Druid-if it is not blasphemy to say so-after your father.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ardanos is my mother's father, not mine. Dieda is his daughter,\" Eilan told her, gathering up the last of the thyme.\n\n\"And your foster brother is one of the Sacred Band?\" Miellyn asked. \"Truly you come from a priestly family. They will probably try to make you a priestess of the Oracle one day.\"\n\n\"No one has said anything about it tome,\" Eilan answered her.\n\n\"Would you dislike it?\" Miellyn laughed at her. \"The rest of us have our duties, and I, for one, am happy with my herbs. But the seeresses are the ones the people worship. Would you not like to be the voice of the Goddess?\"\n\n\"She has not said anything tome,\" the girl answered, a little sharply.\n\nIt was no business of Miellyn's what Eilan might secretly long for, or the feelings that had stirred in her when she saw Lhiannon lift her arms in invocation to the moon. The longer she stayed here, the more vividly she remembered her childhood dreams, and every time she carried offerings to the shrine at the spring she stared into the water, hoping to seethe Lady once more.\n\n\"I will be whatever my elders say. They know more about what the gods want than I.\"\n\nMiellyn laughed. \"Oh, perhaps some of them may; but I am not sure,\" she said. \"Caillean would not say so. She told me once that the knowledge of the Druids is that which was given to all people, both men and women alike in the old days.\"\n\n\"And yet even the High Druid defers to Lhiannon,\" Eilan said, as she bent to cut a few leaves from a bunch of stitchwort she had found growing on the sunny side of a great rock." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Or seems to,\" Miellyn said. \"But Lhiannon is different, and of course we all adore her-\"\n\nEilan frowned. \"I have heard some of the women say that even my grandfather would not dare to cross her.\"\n\n\"Sometimes I wonder,\" Miellyn said as she sorted through the leaves Eilan had cut. \"Cut them closer to the branch; we cannot use the stems. Do you know, I have heard that in the old days the laws required that any man who cut a tree must plant another in its place, so the woods would never be less. That has not been done since the Romans came here; they cut trees and plant nothing, so one day there will be no trees in all Britain-\"\n\n\"There seem to be as many as ever,\" said Eilan.\n\n\"Some seed and grow of themselves.\" Miellyn turned and gathered up the plants they had cut.\n\n\"What about the herbs?\" asked Eilan.\n\n\"We have not cut enough to make any difference; enough shoots will grow up in a day or two to replace what we have taken. That is enough. I think it may rain; we should hurry back. The priestess who taught me herb lore used to say that the wilderness is the garden of the Goddess, and men cannot gather from it without replacing what they use!\"\n\n\"I had not heard before, stated in just that way, but, but I think it is beautiful,\" Eilan said. \"I suppose, if you think in centuries, that to cut down a tree is as foolish as slaughtering a breeding doe-\"\n\n\"And yet some men believe-or seem to believe-that they have the right to do what they will to anything weaker than they are,\" Miellyn said. \"I do not understand how the Romans can do what they do.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The better ones among them would be as angry as you and I at some of the outrages,\" Eilan ventured. She was thinking of Gaius. He had seemed almost as angry as Cynric when he heard the story of the Romans on Mona. She could not imagine him slaughtering the helpless; and yet he must know perfectly well how short and dreadful a life could be expected by the Roman levies in the mines, illfed, poorly clothed, and breathing the poisoned dust of the ore they mined. If this punishment were limited to criminals and murderers it would be bad enough, but the byre-woman's husband?\n\nYet Gaius believed that the Romans were making civilized people of barbarians. Perhaps he had never really thought about the mines, because being taken to them had never happened to anyone he knew. Even she had not thought about it much until it happened to one of their own. But if she did not know what was going on, surely her father and grandfather did, and they had done nothing to stop it either.\n\nThe wind gusted round to the west and suddenly the clouds let loose their burden of rain. Miellyn squealed and pulled her shawl up over her head. \"We'll be drowned if we stay here!\" she exclaimed. \"Pickup your basket and come! If we run, we'll be indoors before we're wet through.\"\n\nBut the girls were soaked by the time they came into the central hall of the priestesses. Eilan felt Miellyn had welcomed the opportunity to run.\n\n\"Get yourselves dry now, lasses, or you'll catch a rheum and I'll be using up all my medicines nursing you!\" Latis, who was so old now she could no longer go into the forest to gather the herbs, cackled with laughter and shooed them towards the door. \"But mind you comeback then to layout the herbs you've brought me, or they'll mildew and both the plants and your labor will be wasted!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Skin still glowing from brisk rubbing, Miellyn and Eilan returned to the still-room. Built on behind the kitchen where heat from the ovens kept the air warm and dry, the rafters were festooned with bunches of hanging herbs. Woven trays upon which roots or leaves were spread to dry hung beneath them, turning lazily. Shelves with earthenware crocks stood along one wall, and bags and baskets of prepared herbs were stored along another, neatly labeled with the sigils of the herbalists' craft. The air was pungent.\n\n\"You're Eilan, are you not?\" Latis peered at her. She looked rather like a dried root herself, thought Eilan, seamed and wrinkled with age. \"Goddess help us, they get younger every year!\"\n\n\"Who does, Mother?\" asked Miellyn, hiding her grin.\n\n\"The girls they send to serve the Priestess of the Oracle.\"\n\n\"I told her she would be sent for training to the Lady soon,\" Miellyn said. \"Well, Eilan, do you believe me now?\"\n\n\"Oh, I believed you,\" Eilan said, \"but I thought surely it would take someone older and with more skills than me.\"\n\n\"Caillean would say that they do not want anyone too learned near Lhiannon for fear she would ask too many questions. If the Priestess were forced to think about what she was doing, the Oracles she gives might not always serve the Druids' policies so conveniently.\"\n\n\"Miellyn, hush,\" Latis exclaimed. \"You know you must not say such things-not even in a whisper!\"\n\n\"I will speak the truth and if the priests object, I will ask them by what right they ask me to lie.\" But Miellyn lowered her voice. \"Eilan, be careful; you are holding that basket aslant. We took enough trouble to gather these leaves, I do not want them dirtied by a fall to the floor.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan readjusted the angle of the basket she was holding.\n\n\"There are some truths which should never bespoken aloud, not even in a whisper,\" Latis went on soberly.\n\n\"Yes,\" Miellyn said, \"so I am told; and usually they are the truths that should be proclaimed from the rooftops.\"\n\n\"In the sight of the gods this may very well be true,\" replied the other. \"But you know very well we are not in the presence of the gods, but of men.\"\n\n\"Well, if the truth cannot bespoken in a house built by the Druids,\" Miellyn replied stoutly, \"wherein the name of the gods can it be?\"\n\n\"The gods alone know!\" said Latis. \"I have survived so long by sticking to my herbs, and you would do well to do the same. They, at least, speak true.\"\n\n\"Eilan doesn't have that choice,\" said Miellyn. \"She'll be tied to the High Priestess for the next six moons.\"\n\n\"Remain true to yourself, child.\" Old Latis touched her chin so that Eilan could not look away. \"If you know your own heart, you will always have one friend who does not lie.\"\n\nThe priestess had spoken the truth. With the coming of the next moon, Eilan was brought to Lhiannon and taught the ceremonious etiquette for attending upon the High Priestess in public, which, in effect, meant every time that Lhiannon went out of her own dwelling in the Forest House. She learned the rituals of robing Lhiannon for the ceremonies, which was more complicated than it looked; for from the beginning of the ritual, not even with a fingertip's weight could any human being touch the Priestess. She shared with Lhiannon the long ritual seclusion with which the Priestess prepared for the rites, and helped her through the physical collapse that followed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was when she learned the price Lhiannon paid for the great reverence in which she was held. For the delivery of the word of the gods there was a heavy reckoning. Vague and forgetful as Lhiannon, in her own person, might sometimes be, when she assumed the ornaments of the Oracle another power came upon her. She had been chosen, Eilan realized, not so much for force of will or wisdom, but because when it was needful, she was able to let her own personality go.\n\nIt was then, when the human identity had been put off with her ordinary clothes, that Lhiannon opened herself so that the Goddess might speak through her. And in those moments, she was a great Priestess indeed-almost, Eilan thought, more than human. The price of becoming the vehicle for so great a power was both physical and mental, and Eilan's respect for the older Priestess grew as she saw Lhiannon pay it without grudging the cost, or at least without complaint.\n\nWhen Eilan left the Forest House and the woods around for the first time she was accompanying Lhiannon. It was then that she realized how the preceding weeks had changed her. Even the House of Maidens seemed remote and strange. When the newest novices scurried out of her way she scarcely noticed, and only afterwards realized that they had seen in her the same unearthly serenity she associated with Lhiannon.\n\nIt was, she supposed, a fairly ordinary Midsummer Festival. She had seen the Games and the market and the lighting of the big sun-fire many times before, but after her months of seclusion in the Forest House, the yammering of so many people was painful, and she shrank from the strong scents of humans and horses. Even the bright cloths the merchants had put up to shade their wares assaulted her senses." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Midsummer was a time when men put forth their strength in competitions, to entertain the gods and the people, and to strengthen the crops as they grew." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But as Eilan watched the footraces and the wrestling it was the sweating bodies of the competitors that seemed the most gross and distorted of all. She could not imagine why she had ever wanted to lie with a man.\n\nThe winner of the Games was garlanded with summer flowers and escorted to preside over the ceremonies. Remembering what she had learned of the Mysteries, Eilan watched with anew appreciation. In time of need, or in some tribes every seven years, the new Year-King would have watched his predecessor burn, and even now some of the old sacredness attached to him. The Empire had killed or Romanized the heirs of the British princes, but so long as men were willing to offer their lives for the people, they could not eradicate the Sacred Kings, who each year stood surety for those who no longer understood their role.\n\nIf there were some great disaster, and a sacrifice were needed during the coming year, despite the Romans' prohibitions it was on this young man that the blow would fall. And, in recognition of his risk, he alone of all men was allowed to lie with whichever woman took his fancy-even a maiden from the Forest House if it was there that his eye should fall.\n\nEilan kept close to Lhiannon, watching as the warriors snatched brands from the great bonfire and vied to throw them high to make the crops grow. The people had grown rowdy with drink and the release of the festival. But no one would trouble her while she was with the High Priestess. Even the Year-King had never been known to push his rights that far.\n\nShe sat with Caillean and Dieda, glad of the protection of Lhiannon's presence and the hulking strength of her bodyguard Huw behind them, and hoped that the other priestesses who had come with them to the festival had fared as well." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was not until several weeks had passed that she learned why her friend Miellyn had come away from the festivities so pale and thoughtful, and why she was so often ill. It was Eilidh who told her, one day when Miellyn was nowhere to be found, but by then everyone in the Forest House was buzzing with the news.\n\n\"She is pregnant, Eilan,\" Eilidh murmured and shook her head as if she still found it amazing. \"By the winner of the Games. Lhiannon was troubled and very cross when she learned of it, and has sent Miellyn to the seclusion of the hut by the white pool to meditate alone fora time.\"\n\n\"That is not fair!\" exclaimed Eilan. \"If he chose her, how could she deny him? It would bean impiety.\" Had the priests forgotten their own theology?\n\n\"The older priestesses are saying she should have kept herself out of his way. There is no shortage of women in this part of Britain, after all. I would have found away to evade him if he had started looking at me!\"\n\nEilan had to admit that she too would have sought someway to avoid being chosen. But when Miellyn reappeared among them, her loose robes no longer able to hide her rounding body, she had the sense not to say so.\n\nAnd so the summer rolled on, and time came round to the second anniversary of her arrival at the Forest House.\n\nBy the time Eilan had assisted the High Priestess at half a dozen festivals, she had lost all enthusiasm for becoming the Oracle herself, but she knew that her desires would make no difference if she should be chosen by the Druids. She could not help knowing that the priests came to Lhiannon before each ritual, to help, they said, to prepare her. But once, when a half-closed door swung open, she saw the older woman slumped in trance as Ardanos droned into her ear." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She watched with extra interest that night when the Goddess was called down upon Her Priestess, wincing as Lhiannon twitched and muttered, garbling some answers while others came clear. It was like watching a horse fighting a tight rein, as if something within the Priestess struggled against the power that flowed through her.\n\nThey have bound her, she realized in horror as she sat by Lhiannon's bedside that night when all was done. They set spells upon her so that she could say only those words that accorded with their will!\n\nPerhaps that was why, despite the ritual, there were times when the Goddess did not come, and Lhiannon's answers arose from her own wisdom, or perhaps the words that the priests had taught her. It seemed to Eilan that those times were the most exhausting of all. And even when the trance was a true one, the Oracle could answer only those questions that were put to her; as time passed, Eilan began to suspect that the Druids controlled who was allowed to question her as well. A few genuine Oracles were indeed delivered; but only, Eilan discovered, in matters of small moment. And these, if they came from the Goddess, generally made little difference either to those who asked or those who heard.\n\nEilan's first reaction had been to protest, but to whom? Caillean was away, carrying a message from Lhiannon to the new queen of one of the tribes, and Miellyn too concerned about the coming child for Eilan to trouble her. By the time there was anyone she could have told, it had come to her that Caillean and Dieda, at least, must know already. It would explain some of their arguments, and the somewhat exasperated tenderness with which Caillean cared for Lhiannon." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Proceed with the plot as the storytelling partner.\nTags: fantasy, historical fantasy, druids\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Forest House\nChapter: 17" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She watched with extra interest that night when the Goddess was called down upon Her Priestess, wincing as Lhiannon twitched and muttered, garbling some answers while others came clear. It was like watching a horse fighting a tight rein, as if something within the Priestess struggled against the power that flowed through her.\n\nThey have bound her, she realized in horror as she sat by Lhiannon's bedside that night when all was done. They set spells upon her so that she could say only those words that accorded with their will!\n\nPerhaps that was why, despite the ritual, there were times when the Goddess did not come, and Lhiannon's answers arose from her own wisdom, or perhaps the words that the priests had taught her. It seemed to Eilan that those times were the most exhausting of all. And even when the trance was a true one, the Oracle could answer only those questions that were put to her; as time passed, Eilan began to suspect that the Druids controlled who was allowed to question her as well. A few genuine Oracles were indeed delivered; but only, Eilan discovered, in matters of small moment. And these, if they came from the Goddess, generally made little difference either to those who asked or those who heard.\n\nEilan's first reaction had been to protest, but to whom? Caillean was away, carrying a message from Lhiannon to the new queen of one of the tribes, and Miellyn too concerned about the coming child for Eilan to trouble her. By the time there was anyone she could have told, it had come to her that Caillean and Dieda, at least, must know already. It would explain some of their arguments, and the somewhat exasperated tenderness with which Caillean cared for Lhiannon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "And the High Priestess, above all, must understand what was being done to her." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lhiannon had chosen to come to the Forest House, and to remain in the power of the priesthood. If they were making her their mouthpiece, surely it was with her own consent and will.\n\nIt was in this state that matters stood when Eilan accompanied Lhiannon to the Beltane festival almost three years after she had been given to the temple." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius had not been in the Ordovici lands for almost two years when the third Beltane since he lost Eilan arrived. His father had not spoken again of the proposed marriage with the daughter of Licinius, but had seconded him to the Governor's staff. He had spent the past two seasons marching across Alba with Agricola, engaged in what they fondly hoped was a pacification of the lowland tribes. Raiders like those who had killed Bendeigid's family were bad enough but it was the still free tribes of the North who threatened the Empire's hold on Britannia. Fora serving officer of the Roman army, grief was an indulgence. Gaius did his duty, and if the sight of some girl's bright hair and grave eyes set his old wounds to aching he took care not to weep where anyone could see.\n\nHe succeeded so well that when the campaign in Caledonia came to a temporary halt he was rewarded by being sent to escort a party of wounded men back to the Legion's permanent quarters in Deva while the remainder of the Twentieth labored on anew fortress in the Caledonian highlands. So it was that he found himself in the South again, trotting down the road to the Hill of the Maidens with a centurion at his side and a detachment of regulars tramping along behind.\n\n\"We need a man we can trust to keep an eye on the festival, and you're the only one available just now who can speak the language well enough to pass. You'll have to face it sometime, lad,\" his father had told him when he protested. \"Best get it over with.\" But not until Gaius saw the bare crown of the hillfort rising from the sea of forest and heard the lowing of the assembled cattle did he realize just how hard it would be. He reined in, staring, and the centurion barked an order to halt the men." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Looks peaceful enough,\" said the centurion. \"Wherever you go, market fairs are pretty much the same. They can get ugly, though, when you mix religion in.\" The soldier laughed. Gaius had already found that the man was a garrulous soul who required a minimum of response from his audience. \"I spent my first three years with the Legions in Egypt. A god for everyday of the week, they had, and each one with his own festival. Had some pretty messy riots sometimes when two processions collided in the center of town.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" Gaius asked politely, though he did not really care that much whether the man had served in Egypt or at the end of the world. This was the gate through which they had entered the festival grounds three years ago. He remembered how little Senara had jigged down the road ahead of them, laughing.\n\nAs before, he was wearing native clothing, for his assignment was to watch out for sedition at the festival, but that happy family with whom he had last come this way was no more. \"What was Egypt like?\" he said quickly, trying to wall the memory away.\n\n\"Oh, like everywhere else,\" the centurion said and yawned. \"Great temples and dreadfully rich kings, and equally great poverty in the marketplace. It was warm though,\" he added and shivered. \"I wouldn't mind a little of their sun right now; it's too cold and rainy herein Britannia.\"\n\nGaius looked up at the overcast sky. The man was right; he had not noticed the weather before. That was one thing that was different anyway. He did not think he could have borne to see this place again on a day of bright sun.\n\n\"You don't seem to mind it much, though,\" the centurion added enviously. \"You were born here, weren't you? I'm from Etruria myself. Getting to be a rarity, these days, to find another native-born Latin in the Legions. I've served allover the Empire-Egypt, Hispania, Parthia. My cohort got cut to pieces in Parthia, and when they promoted me to centurion-probably because I was one of the few left alive-they sent me out here. If Apollo really discovered this country, I don't admire his taste.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We'll dismount here.\" Gaius nerved himself up to it suddenly. \"And leave a man with the horses. No room for them inside.\"\n\nThey heard lowing behind them as another contingent of cattle was driven in. The centurion bawled a command to the soldiers to move aside, and he and Gaius stepped back.\n\n\"No sense in getting under their hoofs,\" he added lazily. \"I don't know about you, but I've better uses for my feet than having 'em stepped on by these cows. You ready to go in now?\"\n\nGaius sighed. He would never be ready, but he was a Roman, and he could no longer run from his memories. He shivered and drew a fold of his mantle over his head.\n\n\"What's going on here anyway?\" asked the centurion as they passed through the gateway in the wake of the cattle. \"Is it some kind of festival for the farmers? They did that in Egypt-had a big white bull they called a god. Paraded him through the streets with garlands around his neck, and fanned incense over the cattle till you could hardly breathe. Trying to make them healthy, they said.\"\n\n\"Here, they throw herbs on the flames and drive the cows between the fires to bless them,\" Gaius answered him.\n\n\"Funny thing, how people keep fighting about religion, when really it's all the same. Seems tome it's the priests who make all the problems; most folks just want good harvests and healthy babies, just trying to get along. If it's not the cattle stampeding, it's the priests haranguing the crowds. Do the Druids run this festival?\"\n\n\"Not exactly,\" said Gaius. \"There's a Priestess, something like a Vestal, who calls down blessings from their gods.\" Fora moment he closed his eyes, once more seeing that veiled figure lifting her arms to the moon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Is she going to do the sacrifices?\" They moved slowly towards the central square, for the herd of cattle was still ahead of them, lowing anxiously and pressing together at the strange sights and smells.\n\nGaius shook his head. \"These days, anyway, the Druids or whoever runs their worship don't sacrifice anything except fruit and flowers.\"\n\n\"I heard they did lots of sacrifices-even human,\" said the centurion.\n\n\"Gates of Tartarus, no.\" Gaius remembered how indignant Eilan had been when he asked the same question. \"Really, this festival's pretty tame. I was here once, and-\"\n\n\"Oh, by Caligula's balls! Somebody's scared the cows,\" the centurion exclaimed, peering ahead of them. \"That was what I was afraid of.\"\n\nA big man in a checked robe had upset a lantern, and the cows were shifting about, lowing uneasily.\n\nBeyond him an older man was haranguing the crowd. More than a hundred people had gathered to hear. Gaius edged forward to listen. This was why he was here, in case someone used the peaceful gathering to stir up rebellion. People in the crowd were yelling in agreement, ignoring the growing unease in the herd.\n\nA lad came running with a bucket of water, splashing one of the shouters as he went by. The man turned, yelling, and the nearest cow threw up its head with a bellow, pricking its neighbor with a twisted horn.\n\n\"Oh, Hades, that's done it; those cows are going to stampede,\" Gaius shouted, even as one of the lead cows burst into a clumsy gallop, knocking into her drover and sending him head over heels into the crowd." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The speaker was still haranguing the crowd, but his audience were shouting at each other now." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Two or three men were crowded off their feet, and a woman screamed, and then the whole front line of cattle burst into a lumbering run. A cow bellowed, swerving, and Gaius saw red on its horn. Somebody screamed. Men, women, and a few children surged backward, yelling.\n\nNow everyone was pushing, trying to get out of the way. Within moments the central square was a confusion of motion and sound. Mothers reached for their crying children; one of the legionaries, not accustomed to cattle, was pushed off his feet and went down howling. Gaius struggled to keep his feet and was swept away from his men.\n\nSomeone grabbed at his arm. \"Here, you look strong, you must help me; the Lady will fall.\" A tall, dark-haired woman in a blue robe gripped Gaius's arm and pulled him towards the edge of the square where an old woman swathed in a blue cloak had collapsed against two women in linen dresses with wreaths of green leaves over their unbleached linen veils.\n\nGaius reached out cautiously and the women let their burden sag into his arms. He blinked, recognizing the Priestess who had invoked the Goddess two years before. Carefully he lifted her, amazed at the fragility of the form within the heavy robes. Most of the people had fled, but cattle were still bucketing about angrily, or drifting in twos or threes with lowered horns and switching tails, lowing defiance at anyone who tried to herd them.\n\nNearby lay the still form of the giant who accompanied the Priestess everywhere. \"What's the matter with him?\"\n\n\"Huw? Oh, he's all right,\" the older priestess said carelessly. \"One of the cows gored somebody; he's afraid of the sight of blood.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Some bodyguard, Gaius could not help thinking. \"We've got to get her out of the way of the cows,\" he said aloud. \"Where shall I carry her?\"\n\n\"This way.\" The taller of the two attending priestesses quickly led the way through the tumble of wrecked booths. Gaius settled his burden so that her head rested against his shoulder, relieved to hear the rasp of her breathing. He did not want to think what would happen to him if the High Priestess of Vernemeton died in his arms.\n\nHis nostrils flared at a sudden scent and he realized that the priestess had led them to the booth of an herb seller. The herbalist, plump and worried, was lifting the hanging rug aside so that Gaius could carry the High Priestess in. He knelt and laid heron the piled sleeping furs.\n\nThe place was dim and dusty, pungent with the fresh summery smell of the herbs suspended from the beams or shelved in linen bags. Gaius straightened, and his cloak fell back. From behind him came a sudden cry of surprise. Gaius felt his heart begin to thud heavily in his breast. Slowly, for suddenly he needed more courage than it had taken to face a charge of Caledonian tribesmen, he turned.\n\nThe smaller of the attending priestesses had thrown back her veil. From its shadowy folds he saw Eilan staring back at him. He felt the blood leaving his head; the world darkened, then flared into brightness as he got his breath again. You're dead... he thought. You died in the fire! But even when all other vision failed, shining down at him he saw Eilan's eyes. He felt a breath of air on his face and gradually his senses came back to him.\n\n\"Is it really you?\" he croaked then. \"I thought you had burned... I saw what was left of your house after the raiders came.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She stepped backward, motioning him towards the end of the booth, while the other priestesses bent over Lhiannon, and Gaius, his head still reeling, got up and followed her.\n\n\"I was away helping my older sister with her new child,\" she said quietly so they would not be overheard. \"But my mother and little Senara were there.\" Her voice broke. Then she stopped and sent a quick guilty glance at the other priestesses.\n\nIn the dim light, wrapped in pale robes, she looked like a spirit. He reached out to her. He could hardly believe she was there, alive, unharmed. Fora moment his fingers brushed cool linen, then she twitched away.\n\n\"We cannot talk here,\" she said breathlessly, \"even though you are not in uniform.\"\n\n\"Eilan,\" he said quickly, \"when can I see you?\"\n\n\"That is not possible,\" she said. \"I am a priestess of the Forest House, and not allowed-\"\n\n\"You are not allowed to speak to a man?\" A Vestal, he thought. The girl I love is as forbidden tome as if she were a Vestal.\n\n\"It is not so bad as that-\" she said with a faint smile. \"But you area Roman, and you know what my father would say.\"\n\n\"Indeed I do,\" he said after a moment, and then thought of what his father would say. Had the Prefect let Gaius grieve, knowing there was no need? Along with his wonder at her presence came a surge of anger.\n\nLooking into Eilan's hazel eyes, he realized suddenly that in all the time since he had left the house of Bendeigid, he had not felt so alive.\n\nShe shifted uneasily. \"Dieda is looking at us; she may well recognize you. And Caillean, the older priestess-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I remember Dieda,\" he said harshly. \"And I must get back to my centurion. Gods! I am glad to see you alive,\" he said, suddenly and intensely, but he did not move. The other priestesses were both looking at them now, and she raised her hand in a gesture of blessing.\n\n\"I thank you,\" she said in a voice that shook only a little. \"Lhiannon is too heavy for any of us to lift. If you see Huw and he seems recovered, will you send him to us here?\"\n\n\"To keep him safe from the cows,\" he said, and was rewarded by the sudden flicker of her smile.\n\n\"Go now.\"\n\n\"I must,\" he agreed. At that moment Lhiannon stirred; one of the women bent over and spoke soothingly to her, and hearing those low tones, it finally reached him that Eilan was a priestess of the Druids now.\n\nHe stumbled towards the entrance, and it was only when he was outside, blinking in the light, that he realized that he had not said goodbye or wished her well. Was she happy in the Forest House? Had she chosen that life, or had they forced her into it? But the door flap had fallen closed behind him. Ashe strode away, he heard Dieda's voice behind him.\n\n\"Eilan, what were you saying to that man? He walks like a Roman!\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't think so,\" he heard Eilan say slowly. \"Wouldn't he have been in uniform? The rest of them all were.\"\n\nHe slowed, amazed at her guile. It was at least partly her innocence that had at first attracted him.\n\nNow where the devil had his centurion got to? He forced himself into motion again. Was the man likely to tell Macellius about this? And, more important, how would Gaius manage to see Eilan again? Now that he had found her once more, he could not simply let her go." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Behind him in the tent, Eilan clasped her hands over her pounding heart. It seemed almost impossible that the other priestesses could not hear it.\n\nLhiannon stirred, and murmured, \"What happened? Was anyone hurt?\"\n\n\"Some fool frightened the cattle and they stampeded,\" Caillean answered.\n\n\"How... how did I get here?\"\n\n\"A passer-by carried you. Huw fainted-the great halfwit,\" Caillean said crisply. \"No, your rescuer is gone; Eilan blessed him in your name.\"\n\nEilan, hearing, thought it lucky Gaius had not been wearing Roman uniform and wondered why. She wondered what he would look like in the uniform of the Legions. Handsome, she imagined, but then, he was nice-looking anyhow. She shook her head, knowing that she should not bethinking of him that way, certainly not here. That part of her life was over.\n\n\"First make certain that Huw is all right, then bring him inhere.\" Lhiannon ordered. \"If the cattle have stampeded, they probably cannot be rounded up at once, and we will be here for the rest of the day.\"\n\nEilan went out into the sunlight. She found Huw sitting on the ground, barely conscious, shaking his head dizzily.\n\n\"Is the Holy Lady safe?\"\n\n\"No thanks to you, if she is,\" Eilan said crossly. \"She fainted, and a passer-by carried her into the herb seller's booth.\"\n\n\"Where's all the cattle?\"\n\nEilan looked around her and realized that Lhiannon had been wrong. The square was busy with folk setting up fallen booths and chattering, but there was not a cow to be seen." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Only the gods know that, and maybe their drovers; they stampeded.\" The man who had been gored, she noticed, had been carried away by his friends. \"That's why they gored that man; they were frightened,\" she said crisply.\n\n\"It was the Romans frightened them,\" Huw mumbled, getting painfully to his feet again. \" Marching in all clanking and glittering that way. A murrain on them; why did they come here anyway? Did they think the blessing of the cattle was some kind of unlawful gathering?\n\n\"There'll be no blessing of the cattle this day,\" he went on, shaking his head. \"I'd best carry the Lady home. With Romans around there's more likely than not to be some kind of trouble,\" he added in a grumbling undertone.\n\nNot for the first time, Eilan wondered why Lhiannon tolerated this great oaf. He was little use to her as a bodyguard; Eilan could not see that he was any use at all. If she should be ever in the position of the Oracle priestess-little as she desired it-the first thing she would do would be to rid herself of the services of this great bobby.\n\nAbout a month after Beltane, Eilan was summoned to Lhiannon, and found her with a man who reminded her oddly of Cynric, and a little girl of eight or ten years with light reddish hair sun-touched with gold.\n\nEilan smiled at the child, who returned her gaze bashfully. Lhiannon said, \"Hadron is one of the Raven Brotherhood. Tell her your story yourself, Hadron.\"\n\n\"It is soon told,\" the man said. \"I have a foster brother who has joined the Legions as an auxiliary, and he interceded for me or I would have been taken and sent to the lead mines. After his intercession, the penalty was removed and my life spared, and so I was given only ten years of exile from any Roman possession. I must now flee to the North, and I cannot take a girl child with me where I go.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"So what is the problem?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan knew Lhiannon had the authority simply to take the girl into the Forest House without consulting anyone. The fact that she had not already done so meant that there was some difficulty.\n\n\"She seems tome to be too young fora place among us,\" Lhiannon said, frowning. \"I do not know what to say to him.\"\n\n\"If that is all,\" Eilan replied, \"I should be happy to care for her until she can be sent to fosterage elsewhere. Or is there a female relative to whom she might be consigned?\"\n\n\"There is not,\" said the man. \"For my wife was Roman born, and I know very little of her near kinfolk.\"\n\n\"So your child is partly Roman? Cannot you send her to her kin among them?\" Lhiannon asked.\n\nThe man answered sullenly, \"My wife quarreled with her kindred to marry me; she begged me with her dying breath to make certain her daughter never fell into their hands. I thought if I might leave her in the care of the priestesses...\"\n\nLhiannon said sternly, \"We are not a refuge for orphans. Although for one of the Brotherhood of the Ravens we might possibly make an exception.\"\n\nEilan looked at the child and thought of her own little sister, dead at the hands of raiders three years ago now. If Senara were alive, who was looking after her? She had looked forward to tending Miellyn's baby as a kind of substitute for her lost sister, but the older woman had miscarried the Year-King's child.\n\n\"I would willingly care for her, Lhiannon.\"\n\n\"That is why I called you. You are not yet committed to any very exacting duties here among us,\" Lhiannon replied. \"Although this goes beyond the usual requirements. Still, if you will have it so, I will put this little refugee in your charge.\" She paused and asked Hadron, \"What is her name?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My wife called her Valeria, My Lady.\"\n\nLhiannon scowled. \"That is a Roman name; she cannot be called by it here.\"\n\n\"My wife had given up all her kin to marry me,\" said Hadron. \"The least I could do was allow her to give her family name to her child.\"\n\n\"Even so, she must have anew name if she is to live here among us,\" Lhiannon said firmly. \"Eilan, will you give her one?\"\n\nEilan looked at the child, who was gazing at her with frightened eyes. She had lost all else; now she was to lose her father and even her name. Eilan said gently, \"By your leave, I will call her Senara.\"\n\n\"That will do very well,\" said Lhiannon. \"Now go; find her a place to sleep and suitable clothing. When she is of a proper age she may take vows among us as a priestess, if she wishes.\"\n\nWhen Hadron had gone, Eilan looked once more at the little girl, who stood gazing raptly at the Lady.\n\n\"I am sorry to lay this upon you, Eilan. I have never had to deal with a child this age. What are we to do with her?\" said Lhiannon.\n\n\"Perhaps she can run errands.\" Eilan put her arm around the little girl and smiled.\n\nLhiannon nodded. \"Since she is not under vows, perhaps she could carry messages beyond our walls.\"\n\n\"She is a little young for that, but if you are truly uncertain about having her stay here, perhaps we should ask among the Romans,\" Eilan suggested. \"Despite what Hadron said, her mother's people might want her. We should at least make inquiries.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That is a good thought,\" Lhiannon agreed a little vaguely, her attention already flitting away. \"Look after it, Eilan, if you will.\"\n\nThe little hand slipped trustingly into her own, and something in Eilan's heart that had been sore since she lost her sister at last began to ease. As they walked across the courtyard, she asked the child, \"You are not unhappy to be called Senara? It was my sister's name.\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" the little girl answered. \"Where is your sister? Is she dead?\"\n\n\"Dead or carried off beyond the seas,\" Eilan replied. \"Alas that I do not know.\" And then she wondered why she had not asked Caillean for some word of her sister's fate, and her mother's when the older woman was scrying. Was it perhaps that she preferred to think of Senara peacefully dead than living in slavery?\n\nShe looked at the child, seeking some sign of her Roman parentage, and thought of Gaius. As the Prefect's son, Gaius could find out if there was anything to be known. Before Valeria became Senara forever, she owed it to the child at least to try.\n\nAs Eilan showed her charge where she was to sleep and found a linen novice's gown that could be cut down for her to wear, she found herself thinking about Gaius as much as about the girl.\n\nWhere was he now? Was he thinking of her as eagerly as she was of him? Had he put some spell on her, that she could not only think of nothing else, but did not particularly want to? She sighed, remembering the strength of his voice, his handsome face and form; the slight accent with which he spoke her name, his lingering kiss at the Beltane fires." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I did not then realize fully what he wanted of me, she thought. I was too young to know-or care. But now I am older, and I am beginning to understand. What have I thrown away? The thought came to her then: For the rest of my life am Ito dwell unloved-until I am as old and loveless as Lhiannon?\n\nWho could she ask? Who could she tell? Dieda would understand, but separated from her own beloved, she would hardly sympathize. Caillean, mishandled and unloved so young, would be angry. And if Caillean would not understand, how could she expect it of anyone else here?\n\nThere was no one to whom she could describe the hungry need in her heart just to look on him once more, even if after that she should never set eyes on him again.\n\nThe next morning, as she was cutting bread and cheese for Senara, she asked, \"Do you remember anything about your kin in the Roman town?\"\n\n\"They are not in the town, Eilan. I think my mother's brother was some kind of Roman official; he wrote the letters for the Prefect of the camp, and other such things.\"\n\n\"Indeed?\" Eilan stared at her. Surely the gods were smiling, for this man must be the secretary to Gaius's own father.\n\nShe thought fora moment of taking the child into her confidence, but after a moment's reflection decided against it. If a priestess of the Forest House should be discovered in the company of a Roman, no matter how innocent her motives, it would mean trouble for anyone involved. And would it be all that innocent?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That very day, Valerius, who was secretary to Gaius's father, had arrived out of breath and looking shaken. \"I have just heard that my sister is dead,\" he told Gaius.\n\n\"Tell me about it,\" suggested Gaius as they walked across the parade ground towards his father's offices.\n\n\"It's along story,\" Valerius replied. \"I lost contact with my sister when she married; I haven't seen her a dozen times in as many years.\"\n\n\"Did she move faraway?\"\n\nValerius gave a short laugh. \"Only so far as Deva, but she married a man of the tribes, and my father disowned her.\"\n\nGaius nodded. It was bad enough fora Roman to marry a native woman of a princely house. He knew only too well how Roman society would view a daughter who ran off with a native lover.\n\n\"An old woman who used to be my sister's nurse and mine sent me the news of her death,\" Valerius went on, \"and I found out by asking some questions about the trouble her husband's in. I've seen him only a time or two, but he had a foster brother who's with the auxiliaries who told me that Hadron is one of the Ravens and has been proscribed. The thing is, she left a small daughter, and I don't know what's become of the child. Didn't you know a couple of the Ravens?\"\n\n\"I knew some of them, yes,\" said Gaius, thinking of Cynric. Considering the conditions of Cynric's birth, he did not wonder that he had joined a secret society dedicated to revenge. In similar circumstances, he thought, he might have felt much the same...\n\n\"Somehow or other I must find my sister's child. Hadron's foster brother is one of the auxiliaries, as I said, and he has no wife to whom he could consign a female child, which leaves me the girl's nearest relative. Can you think of meas the guardian of a little girl? I have not seen the child since she was in swaddling clothes; I suppose she must be eight or thereabouts.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"First you have to find her...\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said Gaius slowly. Cynric might know where Hadron had gone with his child. And in the process Cynric, who knew what it was to be separated from his beloved, might be able to help him see Eilan.\n\n\"Can you really help me?\" Valerius slowed. They were almost at the Prefect's offices now, and the secretary was well aware of Macellius's disapproval of any contact between his son and his mother's people.\n\n\"Perhaps...\" Gaius said cautiously. \"I might know someone who could inquire for you.\"\n\nHe had heard that Cynric had been summoned south to ride with the legionaries who had been despatched to punish the raiders who had burned the house of Bendeigid. It had amazed him at the time, but revenge made strange bedfellows. The word was that Cynric was now working with the auxiliaries as a guide and interpreter. Gaius wondered if he had changed his mind or if he still belonged to the Ravens.\n\nIf he tried to contact Cynric through army channels, his father would hear, but he was bound to seethe young Briton sooner or later, hanging around the taverns that served the fortress.\n\n\"May Bona Dea bless you!\" Valerius reached out to clasp Gaius's hand. Then the door opened, and both men stiffened to military attention.\n\nOnly a few days later Gaius, making his way through Deva's crowded marketplace, saw Cynric standing head and shoulders above the crowd. His curls had darkened somewhat, and his face now bore the beginnings of a beard. Gaius shouted, saw Cynric frown, decide this young officer was no one he knew, and prepare to move on.\n\nGaius swore and thrust through the crowd to face him. \"Wait, man-don't you know me?\" He stopped, tensing as the blue gaze descended and darkened. Surely the lad wouldn't hold his own deception against him now, when he too was serving Rome! \"I think I still owe you a drink for hauling me out of that boar pit,\" he said companionably. \"There's a wine shop here; let's try its wares.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius drew a breath of relief as Cynric's frown changed to a rueful grin. \"I remember you now,\" he said, adding, \"but I don't suppose your name is Gawen. What do I call you, Tribune?\"\n\n\"As a matter of fact,\" Gaius said, \"my mother named me Gawen and called me so until the day she died. I told you the truth as far as I dared. But in the Roman town I bear my father's name: Gaius Macellius Severus. My mother was a woman of the Silures; I bear the cognomen Siluricus after her.\"\n\n\"If I had known this at the time I would have killed you,\" admitted Cynric. \"But a lot has happened since then. I'll drink with you, Roman, or whatever you maybe.\"\n\nIn the dusty darkness of the wine shop, Gaius said, \"I was sorry when I heard of the burning of your house; I could hardly have been more distressed if my own kin had been killed by those Hibernian bastards. I am glad that your father was not hurt, and more sorry than I can say that your mother died.\"\n\n\"She was my foster mother,\" Cynric remarked, \"but for her sake I thank you. We have a saying in the North that blood binds for three generations, but fosterage for seven. And indeed my foster father's wife was as good tome as if I had been born to her.\"\n\n\"She was a gracious lady indeed,\" Gaius agreed. \"And for your sake I grieve for her.\" If he had married Eilan he would have welcomed this man as a brother. And yet, by accident of birth, he and Cynric had been on opposite sides of this struggle until now. At least others than Romans commit outrages, he thought. \"I saw the ashes of your home, but my father sent me north immediately thereafter. Perhaps I struck a blow or two on her behalf against those Caledonians. I was glad to hear that the Hibernian raiders were punished.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"At least I, too, got to strike a blow for them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was the first time in my life I was not ashamed of the Roman blood in my veins.\" Cynric went on. \"I think that Beltane when you guested with us was the last time we were all happy together. All who survived are scattered now.\"\n\n\"I was at the Hill of the Maidens this last Beltane,\" Gaius said carefully. \"I saw Dieda, and Eilan your foster sister, there. I was glad to know she had survived.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" Cynric said shortly. \"She is in the Forest House, a priestess of the Great Goddess. As for Dieda, she is Eilan's kin, but none tome. Nor likely to be, if she stays there!\"\n\n\"I have a friend in the Legions-\" Gaius said then.\n\nCynric laughed. \"Well, I am not surprised at that-\"\n\nGaius shook his head. \"His sister married a Briton, and was castoff by her kin. They had a daughter, but the sister's dead now, and they say her husband is on the run. My friend wants to find the little girl.\"\n\n\"On the run...\" Cynric said thoughtfully. \"Why are you asking me?\"\n\n\"Because they say he was one of those who fly at midnight-\"\n\n\"Many birds fly at midnight.\" Cynric gazed into his wine. \"What was the man's name?\"\n\n\"Hadron,\" said Gaius. \"His wife was called Valeria.\"\n\n\"I know little of birds,\" said Cynric, \"but I can ask around.\"\n\n\"Could they have taken the child to the Forest House? Would your kinswomen know?\"\n\n\"I could ask,\" answered Cynric." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I would rather ask her myself, thought Gaius, but he did not know how to say so. And how did he know that Eilan even wanted to see him again? If she was happy in the Forest House, would he be only breaking her peace to try and see her there? He had done his duty to Valerius. Should he make some excuse and disappear again?\n\nHe realized that he had been silent too long when Cynric refilled his cup from the jug of wine and shoved it back at him.\n\n\"There's more to this than a lost child,\" said the Briton. \"What did you really want to say?\"\n\n\"I must see Eilan again,\" Gaius burst out suddenly. \"I swear I mean her no harm. I only want to know she is happy there.\"\n\nFora moment Cynric stared at him, then threw back his head with a roar of laughter that turned heads allover the room. \"You're in love!\" he laughed again. \"I should have recognized the symptoms. Isn't my own girl locked away behind those very walls?\"\n\n\"But you're a kinsman,\" said Gaius seriously. \"They'll let you talk to her. Can you arrange something for me?\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Cynric grinned. \"I've never seen any reason to keep the priestesses all penned up. That's like something you Romans would do. Dieda won't see or speak tome since she went in there, but my foster sister is not a prisoner. I will see what I can arrange for you.\" He drained his wine cup. \"Beat the edge of the path leading to the Forest House three days from now, an hour afternoon.\"\n\nAs Eilan waited in the woods near the Sacred Grove in the unusual brightness of the early summer sunlight, she was surprised to find that she was trembling. At first, when Cynric had spoken to her of a meeting with Gaius, it had seemed like the answer to an unusually fervent prayer. But she soon realized that the most dangerous thing in the world is an answered prayer. Her chances of keeping the meeting a secret were slim indeed. And no one would believe her if they were discovered." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the end she had gone to Caillean for advice.\n\n\"There is nothing that you can do, since you have bidden him here, but to meet him as has been arranged,\" Caillean had replied. \"But I am going to be within earshot every moment; so that if I am later asked I can swear that the two of you have exchanged no word that could not bespoken in the presence of the parents of either of you. Do you accept that?\"\n\nEilan had bowed her head, then turned to go. In truth, she was even a little relieved. If she must speak to him in the presence of the priestess, there would then be no question of his asking of her anything... dangerous.\n\n\"Wait,\" Caillean had said. \"Why did you bring this tome? Surely you could not imagine that I would approve!\"\n\n\"I am doing nothing that betrays my vows.\" Eilan faced the other woman directly. \"But I know how idle tongues can embroider a tale. I believe that you would advise meas you thought right, whatever you might feel!\" And then she had turned once more, and gone. But she remembered with some satisfaction the flush of color that had stained the other woman's cheeks.\n\nAnd so she waited, knowing that with the implacable watcher she had nothing to fear. If she had earlier been asked whether she was afraid of Gaius she would have unhesitatingly answered no; but as the shadows shortened, she became frightened, then terrified.\n\n\"Oh, Caillean.\" She turned to the other woman, who sat upon a stone at the edge of the clearing, working on apiece of embroidery. \"What am I going to say to him?\"\n\n\"Why should you ask me? I am hardly the person to advise a maiden on her dealings with a man,\" Caillean replied with a sardonic smile." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan sighed. As time passed she realized that it would take awhile for him to come all the way from Deva. But as she waited, she found her hand stealing into Caillean's.\n\nWas she meddling in an affair which was, after all, none of her concern? No, she told herself firmly. It was clearly her duty to find out all she could about the child's surviving relatives. Thus fortified, she waited; and her heart began to pound when at last she saw his shadow upon the path.\n\nIt was the first time she had seen Gaius in the uniform and helmet of the Roman Legion; she was struck by how well it became him. He seemed taller under the crimson crested helmet, and the color set off his dark eyes. He came into the clearing and stopped short. If he was surprised to see two women instead of one, it showed only in the momentary flicker of his eyes. Saluting them, he lifted the helmet from his head and tucked it under one arm.\n\nEilan found herself staring. She had never before had more than a momentary look at a Roman officer in full uniform; and it emphasized the differences between them. And yet, she thought, by their laws we are all Romans. It was like a revelation to her.\n\nHe looked at her and smiled, and suddenly all the things she had meant to say to him vanished from her mind.\n\nGaius shifted his gaze from Eilan to the older priestess, wondering what on earth he should say. He had never once envisioned that their meeting would be attended by a third party. He had not chanced angering his father and risking the wrath of hers, to exchange a few guarded remarks in the presence of a veritable dragon.\n\nBut as he met Caillean's amused glance his anger cooled. If Eilan was a Vestal Virgin or the nearest thing to one to be found within the British Isles, he could hardly blame her for wanting a witness who could attest to her unbroken vows. He wondered how he could make it clear, she was as sacrosanct to him as a Virgin in the temple of Vesta. He remembered how overwhelmed he had been by her trust when she sat beside him at the Beltane fire, how touched by her innocence." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Caillean, of course, was another matter; he could tell at once that the older woman would not have trusted him-or both of them-out of her sight, and for Eilan's sake he was indignant. But he guessed that the priestess had been brought upon tales of Roman outrages. To the women of the Forest House the very fact that he was a Roman and a man was enough.\n\nAnd the truth was that if Caillean had not been there, he might have kissed Eilan; she looked very enticing in the pale linen dress that set off the gold of her hair. He thought the garb must be some kind of standard dress among the priestesses, for Caillean was wearing the same kind of draperies, though hers were dark blue and unbecoming. Both had little curved daggers hanging from their girdles.\n\nAfter a moment Eilan began to tell him about the girl in the house of the priestesses, not very coherently, but he knew at once that this must be the child of Valerius's sister. \"But this is amazing,\" he exclaimed. \"I think this must be the same girl I came hereto speak about to you, the niece of my father's secretary. How old is she?\"\n\n\"The Goddess must be guiding us indeed,\" said Eilan. \"I do not think she has passed her tenth year.\"\n\n\"Oh, well, she is not old enough to be marriageable,\" he said, for Roman law did not permit the marriage of a girl under twelve. He added lightly, \"That's good; otherwise Valerius would probably feel in honor bound to make some arrangement. Now he'll just have to marry someone else to have a home for her.\"\n\n\"That is not necessary,\" said Eilan. \"The girl is well and happy where she is, and you may tell him so.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Gaius frowned; he knew that for Valerius, who came of a good old family, it would not be considered suitable that a kinswoman should live away from the family's protection." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But Valerius had no other family to take care of the girl now, and perhaps Eilan's insistence that she would personally watch over the child's health and safety would be enough for him.\n\nAfter all, in Rome, it was the greatest possible honor fora little girl to betaken into the temple of Vesta. For as long as she retained her ritual position she was treated like a queen, or an empress at least. Somehow he would make Valerius understand.\n\nHe realized that he was still making ineffectual remarks about the little girl, whom he had not even seen, when he saw Caillean glaring at him. They had already said everything they could legitimately say to one another, and were beginning to repeat themselves. It was time to say goodbye.\n\nHe paused, eyeing Eilan wistfully. He supposed he would never have another opportunity to speak with her in even this much privacy. He would have liked to bid her a proper goodbye, but he could certainly not do that under Caillean's eyes. And he should probably not expose himself to that kind of temptation anyhow. But Eilan was still looking at him, a question in her eyes.\n\n\"Eilan-\" he stammered, for Caillean was watching as well. \"You know what I would say to you...\" He held out his hand, not daring to touch her, and then, as Caillean coughed, turned it to a formal salute of farewell. But he read Eilan's answer in her smile.\n\nWhen he had withdrawn, Eilan ran to Caillean.\n\n\"So that is the Roman who has had you daydreaming to the point where you can hardly be trusted to stuff a mattress with bracken. I cannot understand it; he does not seem in anyway special tome.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well, I did not suppose that you would particularly like him,\" Eilan protested, \"but he is well favored, is he not?\"\n\n\"I cannot see that he is anymore so than any other Roman,\" Caillean remarked. \"Or for that matter any other man. Tome your foster brother Cynric is much better looking. He has a gentler face and does not appear to think the world must revolve about his comings and goings.\"\n\nEilan supposed there was no accounting for taste; she herself did not think Cynric was particularly attractive, but Dieda certainly did. But Gaius was something different; to her he did not seem typically Roman, not in anyway. Nor did Gaius himself appear to think of his Roman lineage as anything very special. Certainly he could not if he was fora time thinking of abandoning it for marriage with me, she told herself then.\n\nShe had never for an instant considered marrying anyone else; and as for men, the world was full of them. She hardly realized how much thinking of Gaius had come between her old life and what now seemed natural to her.\n\n\"Eilan, you are daydreaming again,\" Caillean remarked sharply. \"Go and find Senara and tell her what you have discovered; and then go to Latis for your lesson. If you can manage to pay attention, someday you maybe as skilled in the lore of herbs as Miellyn.\"\n\nThus admonished, Eilan went about her duties; but she could not resist going obsessively over and over every word she had said to Gaius and every word he had said to her. She could not believe she would never see or speak with him again; he seemed too much apart of her life even after their formal goodbye.\n\nThat night when she went in her turn to wait upon Lhiannon, the older woman looked at her with dismay." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is this I have heard? That you have been out of the temple to meet with a man? This is not the behavior expected of a priestess of the Forest House. I am disappointed in you,\" she chided.\n\nEilan colored angrily. But this was why she had asked Caillean to witness their meeting, after all. \"I said not one word to him that could not have been spoken in the presence of all of you.\"\n\nLhiannon sighed. \"I did not say you did, but the fact of the matter is that it was not spoken in the presence of all of us, and there will be talk. The Goddess be thanked, Caillean was there; but she should have known that we cannot afford to have even the suspicion of scandal, so it is she and not you who will be punished for it. But I beseech you before you do anything of this kind again, think that you have brought punishment down on the head of another. You are young, Eilan, and the young are always thoughtless.\"\n\n\"Punished? But that is not fair! What will you do to her?\" Eilan asked apprehensively.\n\n\"I will not beat her, if that is what you are thinking,\" Lhiannon said smiling. \"Even when she was a small child, I never beat her; perhaps I should have done. As for her punishment, that is for her to tell if she wishes.\"\n\n\"But, Mother,\" Eilan protested, \"it was you who told me to find out if the child had any family.\"\n\n\"I did not say that you should inquire among the Romans,\" Lhiannon said irritably. Eilan wondered how in the world she could have been expected to find out about the relatives of a Roman child in any other way." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Later, among the priestesses, Eilan found an opportunity to speak to Caillean. \"Lhiannon told me she had to punish you. Can you forgive me? Will it be too bad? She said she would not beat you.\"\n\n\"She will not,\" Caillean said. \"There is a house in the forest where she will probably send me to spend time meditating on my sins while I clear away the brushwood and weeds with which it is surrounded and put the place in order. It's not much of a punishment; Lhiannon probably does not realize that it is actually a luxury tome to be alone with my music and my thoughts. So you must not think I am being ill treated.\"\n\n\"Alone in the forest? But won't you be frightened?\"\n\n\"What should frighten me? Bears? Wolves? Wandering men? The last bears in this part of the world were trapped over thirty years ago. How long is it since you have seen so much as a wolfskin rug in the market? And as for men, you have good cause to know that I could frighten away any man alive. No, I am not afraid.\"\n\n\"I should be terrified,\" Eilan said somberly.\n\n\"I am sure of it; but I am not afraid of my own company. And I can think of my music as much as I wish, without a lesson or a duty interfering. So I shall be quite content,\" Caillean assured her. \"There is nothing in this punishment-if she will call it so-to trouble me.\"\n\nEilan said no more, and she knew that at least when it came to waiting upon Lhiannon, she and Dieda would willingly share Caillean's duties between them. Well, that was no hardship; she loved Lhiannon in spite of her flaws, and she knew that her kinswoman loved her too. She would miss Caillean, though." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Now it occurred to her that if Lhiannon had been a different type of person she herself might have been beaten or severely punished." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Whatever Caillean made of this penalty, it was Eilan who had brought it upon the older woman. For that she felt guilty, but not enough to regret her meeting with Gaius. She only wished she had been able to say half of what she wanted to, though what that was she could not have named.\n\nWhen Caillean departed from the Forest House, Eilan realized that the older woman was really not much of a favorite with the other women there. Only Miellyn and Eilidh seemed to be truly her friends-and of course Lhiannon.\n\nThe weather changed as summer moved towards autumn. As the equinox approached there was rain, and late one evening, while the women in the House of Maidens were seated around the fire, Eilan found herself thinking of Caillean in her exile. Was the roof of the hut leaky? How did she react to the solitude and the silence of the forest?\n\nThe women had been inventing riddles, and at last, tired of this pastime, they asked Dieda to sing or to tell them a story.\n\nDieda acquiesced. \"What would you like me to tell you?\"\n\n\"Tell us a tale of the Otherworld,\" said Miellyn. \"Tell us how Bran, son of Febal, voyaged to the western land. All the bards learn that one.\"\n\nAnd so Dieda half told, half chanted, the tale of Bran and his encounter with the sea god Manannan, Lord of Illusion, who turned the sea into a flowering grove of trees, the fish into birds flying in the air, the waves into flowering bushes, and the sea creatures into sheep; so it seemed as if they sailed through a flowering grove. And when Manannan fell out of the boat, the waves rushed in, so that the sea god was cast upon the shore and all the other men drowned." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When she had finished they called for another tale, like little children sitting spellbound.\n\n\"Tell the story of the King and the Three Hags,\" suggested one of the women, and Dieda began as all tales were begun.\n\n\"Along time ago, times were better than now, and there were more gates between the Otherworld and this, and if I had been there, I should not now be here... well then, in a longer time ago than the oldest grandfather can tell, in a house on the borders of the Underworld, there lived a king and his queen...\n\n\"And it was on the eve of Samaine, when the gates between the worlds are open, and at the time between times, between the midnight of one year and the dawn of the next, there came to the door three hags. The first had a snout like a pig, and her lower lip hung down to her knees and concealed her garment; the second had lips both on one side of her head and a beard which hung down concealing her breasts; and the third was a hideous creature with one arm and one leg. Under her arm she carried a pig which was so much better looking than she was that it was as if the pig were a princess.\"\n\nBy this time all the women were laughing. Dieda herself smiled a little and went on. \" The three hags came in and took three seats by the fire so that there were no seats by the fire for the King and his Queen, who were forced to take seats by the door.\n\n\"Then the first of them, the one with the long lower lip, said, \"I am hungry; what have you to eat?\" And they hastened to make her a pot of porridge; and she ate up the pot of porridge, and it was enough fora dozen men, and she cried out, \"You are stingy; I hunger still.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Now on this night no request of a guest can be denied; and so the Queen set herself and her serving maids to make more porridge for her guests and put some oatcakes on the hearth to bake. But no matter how much food they set before the guest, she growled, \"I am still hungry.\"\n\n\"Then the second, the bearded one, complained, \"I am thirsty.\" When they brought out a barrel of beer, she drank it all down atone draft and complained that she was still dry. And when they began to fear that the hags would eat all the provision for the winter to come, the Queen and the King went out and consulted together what they should do with their guests. And then one of the fairy folk appeared to them from out of a mound and gave the Queen good-day.\n\n\"\"All the gods preserve you, good lady; why are you weeping?\" And the Queen told them of the three hideous hags and their fear that the creatures meant to eat them out of house and home, and then to eat the King and the Queen. And the Fairy Woman told her what she should do.\n\n\"So the Queen went in and sat down to her knitting; and finally the first hag asked, \"What are you making, Granny?\"\n\n\"And the Queen replied, \"Knitting a shroud, dear Aunty.\"\n\n\"And the second hag asked through her beard, \"Who is the shroud for, Granny?\"\n\n\"\"Oh, for anyone I can find who is homeless this night, dear Aunty.\"\n\n\"And after awhile the third asked, kissing her pig, \"And when will you be using the shroud, Granny?\"\n\n\"And just then the King rushed in and cried out, \"The black mountain and the sky over it are all on fire!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And when they heard that, the three hags cried out, \"Alas, alas, our father is gone\" and rushed out of the door, and they were never seen again in that country by any living man; or if they were, then I have not heard of it.\"\n\nDieda fell silent. After along pause, while the wind wailed loudly around the building, Miellyn said, \"I heard Caillean tell a story very like that, long ago; did you learn it from her?\"\n\n\"I did not,\" said Dieda. \"I heard my father tell it once when I was a very small girl.\"\n\n\"I suppose it is very old,\" said Miellyn, \"and of course he is one of the greatest bards. But you told it as well as any Druid. You or Caillean could head the College as well as he.\"\n\n\"Oh, no doubt,\" Dieda scoffed. \"And why not make us judges as well?\"\n\nWhy not, indeed? Eilan wondered. Caillean would have had an answer to that, but Caillean was not here." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Once Gaius had reassured Valerius that his kinswoman was safe in Eilan's care in the Forest House, he made plans to leave again before his father could begin nagging him again about marriage. Since seeing Eilan, he was even more determined not to be married off to some Roman girl. Ever since the death of the Emperor Titus and the accession of Domitian everything had been unsettled, and Gaius knew that his father was looking about for alliances.\n\nAfter a time he went out into the town. The morning had been warm and muggy, but now great clouds were building in the west, and he felt his hair ruffled by a cool wind. An old centurion had told him once that in this country there were two ways to tell the weather: if you could seethe hills, it was about to rain; if not, it was already raining. The man had sighed then, homesick for the flat blue skies of Italia, but Gaius took a grateful breath of the damp wind. As the first drop of rain fell, the Romans began to scurry for shelter. But there was one man who stood still, as he did, turning his face to the sky.\n\nWithout much surprise, Gaius recognized Cynric.\n\n\"Join me fora cup of wine?\" He gestured towards the wine shop where they had met before.\n\nCynric shook his head. \"Thank you; I think I had better not. I'd rather that you could say that you haven't seen me. As a matter of fact it would be much better for you if you could say that you don't know too much about my comings and goings. That way I won't have to ask you to lie.\"\n\nGaius lifted one eyebrow. \"Are you joking?\"\n\n\"I wish I were. I shouldn't even stand about talking to you like this; though you can honestly say you encountered me by chance.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Don't worry,\" said Gaius, looking around him. A gust of wind sent raindrops spattering across the road, sending up little puffs of dust as they fell. \"All the good Romans are safe undercover, and won't care about two fools standing out in the rain! Listen, Cynric, I need to talk to you about Eilan...\"\n\nCynric grimaced. \"I beg of you, don't speak of that. That was quite the biggest mistake I've made this year; Lhiannon was furious with me. No real harm was done, but don't try to see my foster sister again.\" He looked nervously around him. \"Even if you can afford it, I should not be seen talking to an officer of the Legions in full uniform. In fact, you'd better pretend you don't know me if we meet by accident again.\"\n\nHe added, \"I won't be offended. Somebody finally figured out that I was still working for the Ravens, and it occurred to them that serving with the auxiliaries put me in a prime position to make trouble when the time comes. So they've proscribed me, and if I'm spotted within twenty miles of the Roman town, I could be sentenced to the mines-or to something worse-if there is anything worse. Farewell!\" Cynric turned away.\n\nGaius blinked, realizing suddenly that Cynric no longer wore the insignia of Rome. That must be why he was willing to speak so plainly. He was still trying to think of something to say as his friend slid into aside street and disappeared, leaving him alone with the rain. Gaius checked the impulse to follow him. If Cynric were truly an enemy of Rome, even a quick death would be better than sending him to the Mendip lead mines." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Don't try to see my foster sister again.\"\n\nCynric's words echoed in his head. Was this, then, the end to his hope of contact with Eilan? No doubt Cynric and his father were right. But as he pulled the garnet-colored folds of his military cloak over his head and started down the street, the moisture on his cheeks was not entirely from the rain.\n\nCaillean paused in the doorway of the main hall, wincing as the cackle smote her ears. After more than two moons alone, she had forgotten how much noise women could make when they were all cooped up together. Fora moment she wanted to turn and flee back to the solitude of her hut in the forest.\n\n\"So, you're back,\" commented Dieda, finally noticing her. \"I wonder why, after the way Lhiannon has treated you. Having got free of us, I should think you would have kept going!\"\n\n\"And why are you still here?\" stung, Caillean replied. \"The man you loved is away in the North with the Eagles after him. Is your place then not by his side?\"\n\nFora moment anger flared in the younger woman's face, to be replaced in a moment by something closer to despair.\n\n\"Don't you think I would have been away in a moment if he had asked me?\" she said bitterly. \"But his loyalty is given to the Lady of Ravens, and if I cannot be first with the man I love I will take the final vows of a priestess and not have one at all!\" Her voice faltered as the other women turned, and Caillean gazed at her with reluctant pity, grateful that she had never been tempted to love.\n\n\"Caillean-\" Eilidh hurried towards her. \"I was hoping you would return today. Lhiannon is in her rooms. Go to her now. She never complains, but I know that she has missed you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And well she might, thought Caillean wryly as she crossed the courtyard, pulling her shawl over her head to keep off the rain, since it was she who sent me away!\n\nAs always after an absence, Caillean was struck by Lhiannon's fragility. She will not make old bones, she thought now, looking at her. There was no obvious sign of illness, only an increasing translucence, but an instinct honed by years as a priestess told her that the older woman was being consumed from within.\n\n\"Mother, I am here,\" she said softly. \"Were you wanting to see me?\"\n\nLhiannon turned, and Caillean saw that her faded eyes were glistening with tears. \"I have been waiting for you,\" she said softly. \"Will you forgive me for sending you away?\"\n\nCaillean shook her head, feeling her own throat tighten, and crossed the room swiftly to kneel beside the High Priestess's chair.\n\n\"What is thereto forgive?\" she asked brokenly, laying her head on the older woman's knees. She felt her own tears begin to fall as Lhiannon touched her hair. \"I should never have become a priestess, such a trouble to you I have been!\" Suddenly, by that tender touch on her brow, a barrier that had begun to crack when she poured out her heart to Eilan so long ago was swept away.\n\n\"I never could tell you,\" she whispered, \"at first I did not understand, and then I was ashamed. I am no pure maiden. In Eriu, before you found me, I was used by a man-\" Her voice choked. There was a silence, and then the thin fingers began once more to stroke her hair.\n\n\"Ah, little one, is that what has troubled you? I thought there was something, but did not want to ask. You were not even a woman yet when I took you from Eriu. How could you sin? It is only that we do not speak of such things, because there are those who would not understand. We must preserve appearances. That is why I punished you for helping Eilan. But listen, Caillean, my dear one-whatever befell you before you came here is of no importance, not to the Goddess, and certainly not tome, so long as while you dwell in Her House you serve Her faithfully and well!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Still weeping, Caillean reached up to clasp the older woman's arms. Despite occasional exasperation, she realized then that what she felt for Lhiannon was surely as deep as any love she might have had fora man, though it was different in kind. And she loved Eilan, whose sympathy had first enabled her to face these memories. But at least neither of these loves would ever conflict with her vows as priestess.\n\nThere had been moments, during the days of Caillean's exile, when the raindrops that fell from the eaves of the Forest House had seemed to strike Eilan's heart. Gaius was gone, and she would not see him again, that much had been made clear. It was a relief to have those thoughts interrupted when Caillean summoned her.\n\n\"You're back!\" she exclaimed as she pushed through the woolen hangings at the door of Caillean's chamber. \"No one told me! How long have you been here?\"\n\n\"A day only,\" said the priestess. \"I was with Lhiannon.\"\n\nEilan embraced her and stood back to look Caillean up and down. \"It's done you no harm, anyway.\" She looked brown and healthy, and the little line that sometimes marred the blue crescent tattooed between her brows had smoothed away. \"Have they quite forgiven you for my crime?\"\n\nCaillean smiled. \"It is forgotten. And that, child, is why I sent for you. You have been here for three years now and done well in your studies. The time has come for you to decide if you wish to become truly one of us and take your vows.\"\n\n\"Has it been so long?\" It was hard to believe that Mairi's daughter was already a thriving toddler three years old, and her older child nearly five. And yet at the same time it seemed to Eilan that she had always been here. Her old life was forgotten, and when she dreamed of Gaius it was always of his arms around her and his voice murmuring in her ear. She could not imagine living with him in the Roman world." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Proceed with the plot in your role as storytelling partner.\nTags: fantasy, historical fantasy, druids\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Forest House\nChapter: 20" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Still weeping, Caillean reached up to clasp the older woman's arms. Despite occasional exasperation, she realized then that what she felt for Lhiannon was surely as deep as any love she might have had fora man, though it was different in kind. And she loved Eilan, whose sympathy had first enabled her to face these memories. But at least neither of these loves would ever conflict with her vows as priestess.\n\nThere had been moments, during the days of Caillean's exile, when the raindrops that fell from the eaves of the Forest House had seemed to strike Eilan's heart. Gaius was gone, and she would not see him again, that much had been made clear. It was a relief to have those thoughts interrupted when Caillean summoned her.\n\n\"You're back!\" she exclaimed as she pushed through the woolen hangings at the door of Caillean's chamber. \"No one told me! How long have you been here?\"\n\n\"A day only,\" said the priestess. \"I was with Lhiannon.\"\n\nEilan embraced her and stood back to look Caillean up and down. \"It's done you no harm, anyway.\" She looked brown and healthy, and the little line that sometimes marred the blue crescent tattooed between her brows had smoothed away. \"Have they quite forgiven you for my crime?\"\n\nCaillean smiled. \"It is forgotten. And that, child, is why I sent for you. You have been here for three years now and done well in your studies. The time has come for you to decide if you wish to become truly one of us and take your vows.\"\n\n\"Has it been so long?\" It was hard to believe that Mairi's daughter was already a thriving toddler three years old, and her older child nearly five. And yet at the same time it seemed to Eilan that she had always been here. Her old life was forgotten, and when she dreamed of Gaius it was always of his arms around her and his voice murmuring in her ear. She could not imagine living with him in the Roman world." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Is Dieda to take her vows now too?\" They were all aware of Dieda's bitterness over what she saw as Cynric's defection, and now that he was proscribed, who could say when it would be safe for him to return? His commitment to the training of a warrior and his vengeance still commanded his first loyalty. Like the loyalty that holds Gaius to his father's world, Eilan thought.\n\n\"That is between her and the Goddess,\" Caillean said sternly. \"Now we are speaking of you. Is it still your wish to persevere among us, little one?\"\n\nDieda will make her vows, and so shall I, Eilan thought. Why not, when neither of us can ever have the man we love?\n\n\"Yes, it is. At least\"-she hesitated-\"if the Goddess still wants me, knowing that my love was first given to a man.\"\n\n\"That does not matter,\" Caillean smiled radiantly. \"The Goddess no longer regards anything that happened to you before you made your vows. I have finally told Lhiannon what happened tome, and she has assured me that is so. I owe that blessing to you, my dear, and I am glad to be able to pass it on!\"\n\n\"There are some who would not see it that way,\" Eilan said bitterly.\n\n\"You must not let them trouble you.\" Caillean set her hands on Eilan's shoulders and stared into her eyes, and it seemed to Eilan that the dark eyes of the priestess were like the sacred pool, in which past and future could be seen.\n\n\"Listen, little sister, and I will tell you the truth at the heart of the Mysteries. All the gods, and all the goddesses too, are one, whether we call her Arianrhod or Cathubodva or Don. The Light of Truth is One, but we see it as light reflects through crystals or prisms, in many colors. Each of the ways in which men and women see their gods-or their goddesses-has apart of that truth. We who live in the Forest House are privileged to seethe Goddess in many ways, and to call Her by many names, but we know this first and greatest of all secrets, that the gods, whatever they are called, are all one.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Then does this mean that the gods of the Romans are the same gods and goddesses we serve?\"\n\n\"Indeed-that is why they carve their images with the attributes of both when they build their votive altars here. But it is true that while we in the Forest House know the identity of all gods by whatever name we may call them, we believe that we serve the Goddess in perhaps Her purest form, as the divinity in all women. And so we pledge ourselves to serve Her as Mother, Sister and Daughter. This is why we sometimes speak of seeing the Face of the Goddess in the face of every woman.\"\n\nFora moment the exaltation in Caillean's words held her, then Eilan felt a sudden spurt of anger. Why had they all been so angry at her interest in a Roman if their gods were all the same? Caillean had been present when she spoke with Gaius and knew how she felt about him. How could she say that those feelings would no longer matter once she had taken her vows? They were apart of her, as holy as the ecstasy she had felt sometimes when the presence of the Goddess filled her like moonlight glimmering on the sacred pool.\n\n\"What will be required of me?\"\n\n\"You will take avow to remain forever chaste unless you should be chosen by the god. And you will pledge that you will not speak foolishly of temple secrets to the unsworn, and that you will strive always to do the will of the Goddess and of anyone who shall command you lawfully in any of Her names.\"\n\nCaillean paused, watching her and Eilan reflected on how much she loved her, and had come to love the other women and the life they had there. She met the priestess's dark gaze. \"To all this I will willingly swear...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"And you will demonstrate that you are mistress of the skills we have taught you, and that the Goddess is willing to accept you?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You will understand that I cannot describe it-indeed they say that for each candidate the ordeal is different, so even if my oath did not forbid it I could tell you nothing more.\"\n\nEilan suppressed a shiver of anxiety. Living in the House of Maidens she had heard rumors of candidates who had failed and been sent away, or worse still, disappeared. \"I understand, and I am willing,\" she said quietly.\n\n\"So be it, then,\" said Caillean. \"In Her name I now welcome you as a candidate priestess.\" She kissed Eilan on the cheek; and Eilan remembered that one of the younger priestesses had done this when first she came to the Forest House. Fora moment the two kisses blurred; she blinked, dizzied by the sense that she was repeating a moment she had lived many times before.\n\n\"At the full moon before Samaine, then, you shall speak your vows in the presence of the priestesses. Lhiannon and your grandfather will be greatly pleased.\"\n\nEilan stared at her. She was certainly not doing this for their sake! Caillean had asked her to choose, but had her decision in fact been molded by her family's expectations and perhaps other forces dimly hovering in the shadows beyond perception?\n\n\"Caillean-\" she whispered, reaching out to the priestess. \"If I vow myself to the Goddess, it will not be because I am the daughter and granddaughter of Druids, or even because I will never see Gaius again. There has to be something more.\"\n\nCaillean looked at her. \"When we first met it seemed tome you had a destiny among us,\" she said slowly. \"I feel it even more strongly now. But I cannot guarantee that you will be happy, child.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I do not expect to be-\" Eilan caught her breath on a sob. \"So long as there is some reason, some purpose, in it all!\"\n\nCaillean sighed and held out her arms, and Eilan leaned against her, feeling the tightness in her throat ease as the other woman stroked her hair.\n\n\"There is always a reason, my dear, though it maybe long before we understand it-that is all the comfort I can offer you. If the Goddess does not know what She is doing, what meaning is therein the world?\"\n\n\"It is enough,\" whispered Eilan, hearing the other woman's heart beating, steady and slow, beneath her ear. \"If I also have your love.\"\n\n\"You do...\" Caillean's voice was almost too low to be heard. \"I love you as Lhiannon has loved me...\"\n\nThe full moon looked down from the heavens like a watchful eye, as if Arianrhod had personally decided to observe the ceremonies. As the chanting of the priestesses who had brought her here faded to silence, an inner chill pebbled Eilan's arms, though the night was warm. Had shebeen hoping for rain? It would have made no difference; if the Druids had allowed the weather to affect their rituals they would not have had much of a religion. She knew she should be glad that the skies had chosen to bless her initiation, but the moonlight made her uneasy.\n\nAt least the brightness should make it easier to follow the path, and all the priestesses had asked was that she walk through the forest back to the temple, which did not seem a great ordeal. Eager for it to be done, Eilan hurried into the shadows beneath the trees, away from the moon's implacable gaze.\n\nShe had been walking for scarcely the time it takes to spin a yard of thread when she realized that she was lost." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Controlling her breathing, Eilan turned. This, she supposed, must be the first test of her training, to see if she could use her inner senses to find her way. She drew on the steady power of the earth beneath her-that, at least, had not changed. The energies of moon and stars sang above, and as she opened herself to become the pillar that linked them, breathing out and in in regular rhythm until she knew herself to beat the center of the universe, the fear went away.\n\nShe opened her eyes once more. The panic was gone, but the moonlight that filtered through the leaves seemed to becoming from all quarters at once, and she had no idea in which direction the temple lay. Still, if she chose a direction and walked in it she should eventually get through the forest. Once, she had been told, all this island had been covered by trees, but now the land was dotted with roads and pastures and fields. Surely she could not walk for long without finding someone who could show her the way.\n\nHumming softly, Eilan made her way forward, and only later realized that what she had been singing was the song the priestesses chanted at the rising of the moon.\n\nAs she walked, the dappled radiance of the moon transformed the world, and she understood why it had made her afraid. Each twig was outlined in silver; the leaves glittered, and light danced and flickered from every stone... but now Eilan realized that she was seeing something more than moonlight. Every living thing in the forest had its own glow-a radiance that increased until she could see almost as well as in the light of day. But it was not day, for this light was shadowless, a diffuse illumination in which the colors of the forest glowed like muted jewels. With a little shiver she understood that somehow she had passed the boundary that separates the fields of men from the Otherworld." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Truly it was as her teachers had told her; the Land of the Living and the world of men lay like the folds in a cloak, and where they touched, one could pass easily from one to the other. Or perhaps it was only sometimes that the worlds came thus closely together-at times like this, when the priestesses had sung the sacred songs.\n\nThe wood she had entered was filled with oak and hazel and thorn like any other. Now some of the trees she saw were familiar, but others were of no race she knew. Next to a thriving oak she glimpsed a tree with silver bark and little flowers of gold. A rowan tree bore white blossoms and red berries at the same time, though in the human world the flowering time had passed and the berries were not yet ripening on the bough.\n\nBlossoms filled the air with a heady perfume. Now that she could see her way she walked with more confidence, her delight almost making her forget why she had come. Dimly she realized that this seduction of the senses might be the greatest danger, and tried to remember her goal. A lingering sense of duty, more than any other emotion, drew her to a halt in a small clearing where silver birches and rowans rustled in the fragrant breeze like maidens watching a festival. She closed her eyes.\n\n\"Lady, help me! Powers that dwell in this place, I honor you-\" she said softly. \"Of your favor, show me where I need to go...\"\n\nWhen she looked again, she glimpsed through the trees an avenue edged with rough stones. She moved along it, walking with the graceful pacing gait the maidens had been taught to use in the ceremonies. Presently the road passed between two great uprights carved with spirals and chevrons. Beyond them Eilan saw a pool whose waters glimmered as if reflecting the light of the hidden moon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Hardly daring to breathe, Eilan moved between the great stones, and looked down into the pool. This at least had been part of her training, for one of her first skills was to see in the scrying bowl. A sudden wind ruffled the waters, and as they cleared she realized that the bowl had been like a candle to the sun beside the power of the pool.\n\nIn its depths Eilan saw the sea, glittering emerald and sapphire beneath a sky like translucent blue glass. As she stared, pool and forest and stones all disappeared and she floated like a bird on the wing above the waves. Embraced by those waters was an island girt with cliffs of red sandstone, crowned by white temples set among groves of dark trees. On the highest hill stood a temple greater than all the others, whose roof gleamed with gold.\n\nEilan swooped lower, and saw a white-robed woman pacing along the parapet, gazing out to sea. There was gold on the woman's neck and wrists, gold bound her brow, and her hair was like flame, but she had Caillean's eyes. A young man emerged from the temple and knelt before her, pressing his head against her belly. As the priestess blessed him, Eilan saw the tattooed dragons coiling up his arms. And it seemed to her that a voice like falling raindrops sang-\n\n\"Alas for the land beyond the wave-\n\nAlas for the land that none could save-\n\nThe knowledge lost that gods once gave...\"\n\nEven as the singing faded, the scene changed. She had the sense that many years had passed. Suddenly the center of the island exploded in a great gout of ruddy flame, and the waters rose like a wall of green glass and swallowed trees and temples and all. Even as the island fell, a fleet of ships sped away from it, leaping through the water like frightened gulls. One with a dragon painted on its sail she followed as it arrowed through the water, faring northward until silver mists blotted out the sun's radiance, and the sea grew gray and green as the waters she knew." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Now she saw land once more, white cliffs and high grassy downs." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Over hill and dale she soared, and came to a high, broad plain where long lines of men toiled with ropes, dragging great blocks of stone. Part of the henge was in place already and she could envision the rest of it. She had heard the Giants' Dance described often enough to recognize the great circle of stones. The man who was directing the work looked like her father, but he deferred to another who reminded her of Gaius, shorter and dark as a Silure tribesman, but vibrant with power. The second man gestured towards the henge, and she saw the dragons that had been tattooed upon his forearms ripple as the muscles moved.\n\nA wind stroked the high grass of the plain, and when it passed, the scene had changed once more. Fascinated, Eilan watched as one image followed another. Coloring and cast of feature changed as each new people came into the land. But again and again she recognized an expression or gesture that was familiar-her grandfather's touch on a harp; Lhiannon's regal grace; and even herself, riding in a chariot like a queen. A tall man rode beside her, and she knew that it was he whose touch had given her access to her own power.\n\n\"All that has been will ever be;\n\nThe dragon rises from the sea;\n\nOnly the wise are truly free-\"\n\nCame that clear voice from beyond the world.\n\nThe last image was of a hill of knobbed granite where the purple heather grew. Chill winds swept eastward from the sea, scouring the rolling fields. In this windswept place real trees grew only along the strait where the island fronted the grim bulk of the mainland. Even as she realized that she was seeing Mona, the scene changed, and Eilan saw men of her own race clad in white, and women in robes of midnight blue, their faces grim as they piled wood into great pyres." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fora moment she did not understand. Then a shiver of light rippled along the opposite shore. She blinked, recognizing Roman armor. The people of Mona saw it too, and suddenly the pyres were blazing. The priestesses danced forward, their shadows contorting as they screamed their spells. Fora time the Romans hung back and their leaders harangued them, then the first rank went splashing into the water. The strait frothed as the Legion pushed across it. They came out dripping, but their swords gleamed red in the firelight. With grim precision they pursued the Druids, and their swords dripped with a brighter crimson as they slew all those they found.\n\nFora time then all was silent. The fading firelight gave way to the cold grey of dawn. Ravens were already busy at the bodies. As Eilan watched, they rose suddenly upward, screaming, their wings darkening the sky.\n\n\"While Eagles gorge, the Dragon sleeps,\n\nWhen Ravens fly, the Lady weeps,\n\nWhat hate has sown compassion reaps...\"\n\nAs she heard the song Eilan felt her heart pierced by sorrow, and the vision blurred as tears filled her eyes.\n\nWhen she could see again, she was standing beside the pool once more. But she was no longer alone. Mirrored in the water she saw a figure, and looking up she realized that it was a man wrapped in a spotted bull's hide with a headdress framed by hawk's wings and crowned by the antlers of a great stag. Her eyes widened, for this was a costume the Druids wore only for their most sacred ceremonies.\n\n\"Lord-\" she gave him the salutation due his rank, \"who are you?\" Fora moment he had reminded her of her grandfather, but she realized now that he was younger, despite the silver in his beard, and in his eyes shone a wisdom and power she had no more than glimpsed in any mortal man." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This is what Ardanos was meant to be! she thought then, like the great Priestess she had glimpsed sometimes shining through Lhiannon in the rituals. This was the reality.\n\nHe smiled, and it seemed to her that the light brightened around them until the pool shone. \"I have been in many shapes, and had many names. I have been the Hawk of the Sun, and the White Stallion, the Golden Stag, and the Black Boar. But here and now I am the Merlin of Britannia.\"\n\nEilan swallowed. She had heard something of this in her studies, for the Merlin was a title that had been borne by the Arch-Druid in previous years. But the soul to whom it belonged did not take flesh in every generation, and it was said that only the greatest of the Druids met him in the Otherworld.\n\nShe licked her lips. \"What do you want of me?\"\n\n\"Daughter of the Holy Isle, will you serve your people, and your gods?\"\n\n\"I serve the Lady of Life,\" answered Eilan steadily. \"And I would do Her will.\"\n\n\"This is an hour of omen, when many paths may meet, but only with your consent, for the way that opens before you will require that you give everything, and if you follow it you will find scant understanding or reward.\" He moved around the edge of the pool.\n\n\"And what do the omens say this houris propitious for?\" Close to him, the reality of his presence was overpowering. Eilan was glad the old tales had taught her how to reply.\n\n\"It is propitious for the making of a priestess in the ancient way,\" he said gently. \"They have told you that a priestess must be physically a virgin, but it is not so. A priestess of the Goddess gives herself at her own time and season, and when the power has passed through her, resumes her sovereignty. She gives, but is never taken. She is the initiator who sanctifies the Sacred King, that he may bestow the blessing on his queen, and life maybe renewed in the land.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And that is what you want of me?\" Eilan realized that she was trembling. \"How can I do it? I do not know how!\"\n\n\"Not you, but the Goddess within you-\" Eilan's breath stopped as he smiled. \"And it is my office to awaken Her.\"\n\nHe released the hide, and as its stiff folds fell away she saw that he was naked, his body the image of the potent god. He smoothed the hair that curled away from her temples, and it seemed to her she would have fallen without the support of those strong hands. Then he bent to kiss her upon the brow.\n\nGoddess! her spirit cried, and felt consciousness ignited by a white flame that surged downward as he kissed her lips, her breasts, and knelt to bless her womb. In that moment she was aware of her own essence as she had never been before, and yet at the same time, all selfhood was subsumed in Another, and whether that Presence was apart of her or she of it, or Her, Eilan could not say. What she knew beyond question was that in a sense that surpassed even the comfort of Gaius's arms around her, she was no longer alone.\n\nEilan burned and was not consumed, and it seemed to her that the voice she had heard sang intones of flame-\n\n\"The enemy you would conquer, you must love...\n\nThe law you would fulfill, you must defy...\n\nThe thing that you would keep, you must now give...\n\nThus will you have the victory...\n\nDaughter of Druids, through you the Dragon will be reborn.\"\n\nHer awareness flared with images of blood and splendor, battles and stone cities and a green tor above an inland sea, fire and sword and finally a fair-haired man with Gaius's eyes who rode to battle with the image of the Lady on his shield." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I will!\" came her reply. \"But do not leave me alone-\"\n\n\"Daughter, I am always here,\" came the reply. \"Thou art Mine, from age to age while Time endures.\"\n\nShe knew that she had heard those words before, that this was only the renewing of an ancient bond, but the love that lapped her was becoming a sea in which she drowned, alight in which all awareness was consumed.\n\nEilan's next conscious thought was of floating in cool water. She sensed dark trees around her, and moonlight, and in the next moment many hands had hold of her and were lifting her to the shore. She blinked in amazement as she realized that she was lying beside the bathing pool in the stream below the House of Maidens.\n\nEilan tried to speak and found she could not. She realized then that what had happened to her was a mystery too deep for telling, even here. And yet she wondered that they could not see it, for the Divine Heat still blazed within her so that her skin dried as soon as they helped her rise from the pool. In silence the other women clad her in a robe of new linen dyed the deep blue that the consecrated priestesses wore.\n\n\"You have journeyed between the worlds; you have seen the light that is without shadow; you have been purified...\" said a voice Eilan recognized as Caillean's. She looked up, but it was the woman she had seen on the parapet in her vision who seemed to be standing there. \"Daughter of the Goddess, arise, that your sisters may welcome you-\"\n\nThe priestesses helped her to her feet and fell in behind her as she followed Caillean along the path that led to the Sacred Grove.\n\nBy the light of the torches that flickered among the trees Eilan saw that Lhiannon was waiting, attended by Eilidh. Beside her stood Dieda, her eyes as huge and dazzled as Eilan knew her own must be, and her hair clinging to her brow in damp tendrils. What, Eilan wondered, happened to her? Their eyes met, and all the barriers that the past years had built between them vanished; they remembered only that they were sisters now." }, { "from": "human", "value": "I am glad that we will be making our vows together..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "she thought. The testing was always the same, but each priestess received the vision the gods willed. Dieda, she supposed, would have found music. She looked at the other girl, and it seemed to her that the Goddess smiled back at her from Dieda's eyes.\n\nEilan looked around her and saw that they were all here-Miellyn and Eilidh and the others who had taught her for the past three years. But in each woman's face she saw a reflection of the light of the Otherworld, and in some of them, something more, a hint of faces she had seen in her visions, constantly changing and yet always the same.\n\nWhy do men fear death when we will live again? Eilan wondered then. The Druids taught that the soul could take many forms through the circling years, and she had always thought she believed it, but now she knew that it was true.\n\nAt last she understood Caillean's serenity, and the holiness that despite her fragility and fallibility, she sensed in Lhiannon. They too had been where she had gone, and no mortal accidents could change the truth of it.\n\nShe heard the words of the ceremony as if in a dream, and made her vows without hesitation, for the most important promise, the one that included and commanded all others, had already been made to the Goddess in the Otherworld. With the blood still singing in her veins, and the light of the Lady in her eyes, she scarcely felt the prick of the thorn as the blue crescent that proclaimed her priestess was drawn between her brows." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was the tradition in the Forest House that after the priestesses took their vows they should undergo a period of seclusion. Eilan was grateful. During the days that followed her initiation she lay as exhausted as Lhiannon after giving an Oracle, and even when she recovered physically, she found her attention focused inward as she tried to understand what had occurred.\n\nSometimes the Druid's words to her seemed impossible-a demented dream born of her frustrated love for Gaius. But when the priestesses gathered in the frosty darkness to salute the winter moon, Eilan would find her spirit lifted as the women's voices soared. At such times, when the moonlight filled her like a silver flame, she knew that what she had experienced was no dream.\n\nSometimes she found Caillean watching her rather curiously, but not even when the older priestess taught them the secrets of the Wise Ones who had come over the sea-the lore that only the sworn priestesses were allowed to learn-did Eilan feel free to speak of the Merlin and the destiny she believed he had offered her. For gradually she had realized that whatever ecstasies the other priestesses experienced in their initiations, this mystery had been for her alone. And so the dark days of winter passed and lengthened into spring, and the mark of the Goddess healed upon Eilan's brow.\n\nGaius lounged on the bench in his father's office at Deva, breathing deeply of the breeze that came through the open window and wondering how soon he could getaway. Fora year he had been attached to his father's staff, and he was tired of fortress walls. Spring was overwhelming the fields and woodlands. He could smell apple blossom on that breeze, and it made him think of Eilan.\n\n\"Most of the men will betaking leave for the Floralia, but I don't want too many of my officers away atone time.\" His father's voice seemed to come from faraway. \"When you're up for leave where will you go?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I hadn't thought about it,\" Gaius blurted out. Some of the officers used their free time to go hunting, but killing things for sport no longer particularly interested him. Really, there was nowhere he wanted to be.\n\n\"You might go and seethe Procurator,\" his father suggested. \"You haven't met his daughter yet.\"\n\n\"And if the gods are kind tome I never will,\" Gaius returned abruptly to the present and sat up. His father looked pained.\n\n\"Now, how could it possibly hurt you,\" Macellius inquired, obviously holding onto his temper, \"just to seethe girl? I think she's already fifteen years old.\"\n\n\"Father, I know she's marriageable. How stupid do you think I am, anyway?\"\n\nHis father only smiled. \"I haven't said a word about marrying her.\"\n\n\"You don't have to,\" Gaius said sullenly. If he could not have Eilan, he was damned if he would marry any woman in Britain-let alone one his father suggested.\n\n\"You don't have to be rude,\" his father said. \"As a matter of fact, I was thinking of spending the holidays in Londinium, and-\"\n\n\"Well, I wasn't,\" Gaius said, no longer caring what his father thought of his manners. He did not know where he would go but it would be as faraway from Londinium as he could possibly get.\n\n\"I hope you're not thinking of that British girl again,\" Macellius commented, almost, Gaius thought, as if his father were reading his mind. If only he had left it at that. But Macellius went onto say, \"I'm sure you've had the sense to put her out of your mind for good and all.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And that decided him. \"As a matter of fact,\" he said deliberately, \"I was thinking of going to see Clotinus.\" It had been after staying with the British lord, after all, that he had first met Eilan, and he could at least enjoy the memories.\n\nGaius enjoyed the trip southward, thinking of Eilan, and of Cynric who might have been his friend and was lost to him, through no fault of their own. Spring was advancing like a conquering army, and the weather was beautiful; mornings clear and cold, making him glad to be warmly clad, and days warm, bright and almost dry except fora sprinkle of soft rain late in the day. Clotinus greeted him gladly and welcomed him, and although Gaius knew it was mostly that Clotinus wished to keep on the best of terms with the powerful Romans, he enjoyed it anyway. Gwenna had gone away to be married, so there was no one to trouble him.\n\nThe household of Clotinus, he realized, was not at all a bad place to spend a vacation. The food was good, and even Clotinus's remaining daughter, only twelve or so, was good company, and sympathetic enough when he told her that his father had tried to arrange a marriage for him with an unknown. She might well have been offering to console him on some subtle level but Gaius remembered-not before time, he thought-what his father had said about entangling himself with native women. If the girl was sending him any wordless signals, he pretended not to notice them.\n\nBut except for prayers dimly directed at Venus, he could think of noway to approach Eilan. In sleep he ground himself against his blankets, moaning, and waking, knew that it was of Eilan that he had dreamed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I love her, he thought in self-pity, when the hopelessness of his situation overwhelmed him. It isn't as if I meant to seduce and abandon the girl. I'd be happy to marry her if I could get the permission of all the people who seem to have made it their business to control our lives. After all, he was twenty-three, and an officer-though a very minor one-in his Legion. If that did not make him old enough to marry at his own will, how old would he have to be?\n\nOne day when he was riding out under the excuse of hunting, he found himself traveling past the burned-out walls that once had been the house of Bendeigid, and he realized he must be somewhere in the vicinity of the Forest House. His leg ached a bit as he remembered the boar pit-it seemed to him very long ago-and the first time he had ever laid eyes on Eilan.\n\nI cannot stay here... he thought suddenly. Every tree and stone will bring back painful memories. He had thought he could bear it. Certainly seeing old Ardanos from time to time in Deva had not troubled his peace. Perhaps he should ride south to visit his mother's people. It would not please Macellius, but he did not much care to please his father just now.\n\nThat night before the fire he spoke of it to Clotinus, who urged him to remain another day or two.\n\n\"There will be too many folk on the road till the festival,\" Clotinus pointed out. \"You should stay until that is past at least and then you can travel in comfort.\"\n\n\"People won't bother me, but perhaps I should not travel in full uniform,\" said Gaius. \"I will make better time and attract less attention if I wear the common dress of a Briton.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"That's true,\" Clotinus grinned sourly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You are, in a sense, one of us. I daresay I can come up with something that will serve.\"\n\nThe next morning his steward produced clothing which fitted Gaius well enough: tan breeches and a tunic dyed green, in new cloth, clean and decent but not particularly luxurious, and with them a voluminous dark brown cloak of heavy wool. \"The nights are still chilly, lad,\" Clotinus said. \"You will need this when darkness falls.\"\n\nWhen Gaius put it on his Roman identity seemed to fall away.\n\n\"You are no longer Gaius Macellius Severus in this garb.\" The old man eyed him oddly. Gaius grinned. \"As I think I told you, my mother called me Gawen while she lived; now I look nothing else and I should use only that name.\"\n\nClotinus was quick to exclaim how well the clothing became him, yet somehow Gaius knew the man regretted the disappearance of his important-looking Roman guest.\n\n\"If I attend the festival, I will be just another Briton,\" Gaius went on. \"Maybe I should have you send a message to Macellius that I am traveling in disguise!\" He suspected his father would not be pleased, and the excuse of gathering information might justify this escapade.\n\nWhen Eilan woke on Beltane morning she had the oddest feeling that Gaius was somewhere near. Perhaps, she thought, he is thinking of me. It was Beltane, after all, and all their most significant meetings had been at that festival. It was natural, in any case, that her thoughts should turn to him on this day when, throughout the land, the hearts of men and maidens were turning to love.\n\nHerein the chaste sanctuary of the House of Maidens she should not bethinking of such things, or if she did, she should view them with the detached benevolence of one who existed far beyond such fleshly cravings. During the winter that had been easy. It seemed to her that the passion with which the Druid of her vision had touched her had been refined to a radiance as pure as an altar flame, and her vows of chastity no great sacrifice." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But now, when the sap was rising in the trees and every bud was bursting into flower, she was beginning to wonder. When she thought about her vision, her body flamed, and at night she dreamed about lying with a lover who was sometimes the Druid and sometimes Gaius, and sometimes a stranger with the eyes of a king. My body is still untouched, she thought suddenly, but my spirit is virgin no longer. Goddess, how will I bear this sweet pain?\n\n\"Eilan, are you helping Lhiannon prepare for this evening's ritual?\" Miellyn's voice brought her back to the world and she shook her head. \"Then why not come outwith the rest of us this morning and enjoy the festival? It will do you good to get some fresh air.\"\n\n\"The rest of us\" turned out to include Senara, who was entirely delighted to be out of doors. It was a crisp bright day, and in the hedges the hawthorn glowed as if the light of the sun had settled on the boughs. The people were jammed together in away that made Eilan, used to the peace and quiet after her months of seclusion, tremble. How quickly she had grown accustomed to silence and peace, or perhaps her initiation had altered her. She had always been a little uncomfortable in crowds, but she felt now as if she were walking about without her skin.\n\nBut Senara was in high spirits as she walked between them. She was fascinated by everything: a stall of round cheeses; a table where a seller of glass bangles had spread his glittering wares; and everywhere, the flowers.\n\nEilan had not seen so many people since last Beltane when she had met Gaius again. It seemed to her that everyone in Britain or the islands must be here, jostling, laughing, eating, drinking; and every craft from the making of cakes to rope-dancing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Will Lhiannon be here during the day?\" Senara asked.\n\nMiellyn nodded. \"Ardanos will escort her. It is apart of her duty to show herself to the crowds at festivals.\" Miellyn paused, and added, \"And not the happier part. Between ourselves, I think she is very tired. Every year now, I wonder if it will be her last festival.\"\n\nSeeing Eilan's face grow pale, she added, \"Does it frighten you? Death is as much apart of life as birth; as a priestess you should know that.\"\n\nBut the crowds were so thick she could hardly hear what Miellyn was saying. A group of people were watching a man with a dancing bear; Senara cried out that she wanted to see, and they pressed forward fora better view. As people glimpsed the blue linen dresses of priestesses from the Forest House they parted before them till they stood at the ringside, watching the animal dance-or, at least, lumber heavily in a circle on its hind legs, which she supposed was as near as such a beast could come to dancing. The bear's muzzle was tightly wrapped with rope; she thought it looked miserable.\n\n\"Poor thing,\" she said, and Miellyn sighed.\n\n\"Sometimes it comes tome that Lhiannon is like that bear,\" the other priestess replied. \"Always on display, never speaking her own words.\" Eilan gasped at the thought of comparing the High Priestess to a trained animal.\n\n\"And who leads her?\" Senara giggled. \"Miellyn, you should not say such things.\"\n\n\"Why not? Speaking the truth is usually considered to be a virtue,\" Miellyn said stoutly, and Eilan was reminded of Caillean. Her grandfather's treatment of the High Priestess seemed very different from the sovereignty that the Druid of her vision had proclaimed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I speak the truth as I see it; and when I see Lhiannon growing so feeble, I wonder-\"\n\nMiellyn did not finish her sentence, for at that moment the bear dropped to all fours and lumbered directly toward them. Senara shrieked and jumped away, but the crowd pressed in on every side. Eilan pulled back, stepping on a strange woman's dress, and hearing it rip.\n\n\"Watch where you are stepping!\" the stranger said peevishly. Eilan apologized, trying to make herself smaller, and at that moment the bear surged forward again, his leading rope coming loose as someone cried out in alarm. The whole crowd pressed backward and when Eilan recovered her balance Miellyn and Senara had disappeared in the crushing crowd.\n\nIt was the first time in years that Eilan had been alone. She had grown accustomed to the constant chaperonage of the Forest House. Now it occurred to her that the supervision had another purpose than propriety; the presence of her sisters had helped to keep people away both physically and psychically. Alone, the tumult of alien thoughts and emotions buffeted her like a strong wind. She tried to draw strength from the earth for protection, but the strange faces surrounding her filled her with confusion. How did Lhiannon stand walking among the people when she was already half-tranced and opened to the power of the gods? So hemmed in by the crowd and the press of strangers was she that she could see nothing familiar; not even the avenue of trees that led towards the Forest House, nor the mound from which they gave the Oracles.\n\nOnce she glimpsed through the crowd what looked like a familiar blue gown; but when she neared it, it was the cloak of a complete stranger. Another time she thought she spotted a group of priestesses; but there were four of them, and by the time it occurred to her that her companions could have met with some others from the Forest House and that they could all be looking for her they had disappeared in the press of strangers again. The temporary landscape of the fair seemed as strange to her as the Otherworld. This is ridiculous-shielding myself from other people's emotions was the first thing they taught us! I should simply ask someone, she kept telling herself, but vulnerable as she was, she dared not speak to a stranger; for what would they think of a priestess who could not find the way back to her own dwelling place?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She moved through the crowds, trying to hold reasonless terror at bay. If she could just restore her defenses, she would ask someone in which direction the Forest House lay. Someday, no doubt, she would look back on this day with amusement, as an adventure. Only at the moment there could be no doubt that she was both lost and terrified.\n\nA sudden movement of the crowd swept her almost off her feet; she lost her balance and collided with a man in a dark cloak. He murmured something, then started. \"Eilan! Is it really you?\" Strong hands seized her elbows and a familiar voice demanded, \"Where did you come from?\"\n\nAnd Eilan looked up into the one face which of all the faces in the world she had least expected to see; the face of Gaius Macellius.\n\nWordless, she clung to him. He felt her trembling and pulled her closer. Abruptly the confusion around her was stilled by the circle of his arms.\n\n\"Eilan-\" he repeated. \"I did not dare dream I would find you here!\"\n\nBut I did, thought Eilan dimly. When I woke this morning my first thought was that you were near; why did I not trust it?\n\nHis arms tightened around her; and in that moment she forgot all of Caillean's words of warning, all her own misgivings and fears. She knew only that she was happy.\n\nShe laughed a little shakily. \"I'm afraid I lost myself; I was trying to return to the Forest House, or at least to the other priestesses who came to the festival, but I was not sure which way to go.\"\n\n\"The road is over there,\" he began, and then at her involuntary movement, broke out, \"Must you really go back at once? I came to this-this part of the world, only in the hope of seeing you-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She could hear, as clearly as if he had spoken, I cannot bear to let her go now!\n\n\"If you go we may never meet again,\" he burst out, his voice shaking as he spoke. \"I think I could not bear it, to lose you again. Eilan...\" His lips hesitated on the sound of her name like a caress; she felt it like awash of cool fire across her skin. \"You cannot leave me...\" he murmured into her veil. \"It is Fate that has brought you here, alone...\"\n\nNot precisely alone! she thought, smiling at the surging crowds around them. But it was true; only Fate, or the Goddess, could have brought her here, to his arms. Deliberately she set aside the training that had required a sworn priestess in the company of a man who was neither father, grandsire or brother to keep her eyes modestly cast down, and looked at him.\n\nAnd what had she thought she would see? What could her eyes tell her, she wondered, seeing how strongly his hair still curled off his forehead, the stubborn jut of the jaw beneath the short beard he had grown on his last campaign, and the naked need in his dark eyes, that her heart did not already know? The inner and outer vision came abruptly together, and she saw at once the pinched face of the boy she had nursed four years ago, the strong features of the man he was becoming, and something else, a face battered by experience and discontent, its young promise being eroded by the years.\n\nMy poor love, she thought, is that what you will be?\n\n\"Must you really go?\" he repeated, and she murmured, \"No.\"\n\nGaius swallowed, and lifted her veil back from her forehead. She felt him stiffen then, and realized that he had noticed for the first time the blue crescent drawn between her brows." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am a priestess,\" she said quietly and felt him flinch in understanding. But he did not let her go, and she did not pull away.\n\nThe very thought that she might not see him again was beginning to take the light from the sky. No doubt Caillean would have told her to leave him at once; but for once she would not do what the older priestess thought wiser, but what she wanted to do. And whatever came of it, this time, at least, Caillean could not be punished for it.\n\nTwo drovers blundered into them and backed away, eyeing them oddly as they caught sight of Eilan's blue robes. Gaius frowned and wrapped his brown cloak around her, pulling her veil backup to hide her bright hair.\n\n\"Let's get you out of this crowd, anyway,\" he muttered. His arm was still around her, strong and steadying, and as they walked on, neither knew quite where they were going, only that they were together, and it was away from the crowds.\n\n\"Tell me how came you here. I had no notion that you were in this part of the world.\"\n\n\"I think I came to see you,\" he began, and Eilan leaned against him, listening.\n\n\"It was Fate, or perhaps my father. At least I was heading the opposite way to where he wanted me to go! Is little Valeria well?\"\n\n\"Senara-so we call her in the House of Maidens. Indeed, she is perfectly well, and happy.\"\n\n\"I am glad to hear it,\" he answered, but she could tell that already Senara was forgotten. \"Cynric is proscribed, did you know?\" Gaius said then, \"I met him before he left, and he told me to stay away from you...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His voice faltered. What did he want to hear from her? wondered Eilan. Maybe only the sound of her voice, to know she was thinking of him. Couldn't he tell? She was aware of him with every sense in her body, every inch of her skin.\n\n\"Maybe he's right. My father has taken it into his head that I should marry some Roman girl, the Procurator's daughter in Londinium-\"\n\n\"Will you obey him?\" Eilan asked carefully, her blood pounding. Marriage! Why had he told her? She knew it changed nothing, but why should the thought give her such pain?\n\nSomehow they had reached the edge of the fairgrounds. Another step would hide them in the shelter of the hazel trees. Last night, men and girls had wandered these woods to gather greenery and flowers and to lie with each other on the new grass. The forest still remembered; Eilan could feel the memory of their passion like an echo around her, conflicting with the tumult of the fair.\n\nHe turned to face her. \"You know I will never marry anyone but you!\"\n\n\"I cannot marry,\" she answered him. \"My life is sworn to the gods...\"\n\n\"Then I will never marry anyone,\" he said firmly.\n\nBut you will... Even as the irrational burst of happiness surged through her, foreknowledge tolled in Eilan's awareness. An image flickered in her mind of the woman who would be his wife. And why should Eilan resent her? Was she so selfish that she would wish Gaius to be alone forever? Or had she wanted him to carry her away, to move heaven and earth to have her released from her vows? What words of men could erase the crescent set between her brows?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "She stumbled over a tree root, and Gaius reached out to steady her." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Blinking, she realized that they had entered the forest. The noise of the crowds was suddenly faint with distance, as if they had traveled miles away, as if they had stepped into the Otherworld. Great trees hid them in a leaf-dappled shadow. The sun had gone behind a cloud and a chill wind was beginning to blow. Was it going to rain? As if in answer, a few drops blew down on them, the beginnings of rain or perhaps moisture from the upper leaves.\n\n\"Eilan...\" he whispered, and his grip tightened. \"Please-Eilan!\"\n\nTurning, she felt the force of his need for her, and the world seemed to stop. From the moment the crowd had swept her away from Miellyn until now, thought Eilan, she had wandered in a dream. But she was awake now, and she could see both past and future with a terrible clarity. Perhaps Fate had brought them here, but what she decided at this moment would determine his future and her own-and perhaps other lives as well. Awareness pulsed outward, embracing other times in an ever-widening circle until she saw once more the bright-haired warrior who had been in her vision, with the Dragons on his wrists and the eagle-look she had learned to love in Gaius in his eyes.\n\nNow it was he who was trembling. With clumsy fingers Gaius put back her veil and his hand, falling, brushed her cheek, fora moment clung there, and then, as if an irresistible force had drawn it downward, slipped along the softness of her neck and came to rest upon the swell of her breast beneath the opening of her gown. The turf stretched soft and green before them. She heard, like an echo, \"The Goddess is not worshipped in a temple made by human hands...\"\n\nBut it was forbidden-not six months ago she had sworn to give her virginity only to the Sacred King. And like an answer, the certainty came to her. From this man of two bloods shall spring the King who is to be... For this, the Merlin had initiated her. This washer destiny." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When they first met, she must have seemed to Gaius a child, but she knew herself immeasurably older now. Like an echo, the voice of the Merlin came to her:\n\n\"A priestess of the Goddess gives herself at her own time and season, and when the power has passed through her resumes her sovereignty.\"\n\n\"By the rites of men we cannot be married,\" she said softly. \"Are you willing to take meas your wife in the old way, as the priestesses mated with the men of the royal kindred, before the gods?\"\n\nHe groaned as his hand curved around her breast, and she felt her nipple hardening against his palm. \"Till death and after, by Mithras and the Mother,\" he muttered. \"Eilan, oh, Eilan!\"\n\nWhen the Merlin touched her, the fire had flared from the crown of her head to her heels; but this flame seemed to rise upward from the earth, burning all other thoughts away.\n\nShe touched his face and he reached for her. A clumsy hand tangled in her hair and her veil fell unheeded to the ground. Then his lips claimed hers, no longer gentle but demanding, like a starving man. Fora moment surprise held her still in his grasp; then she became aware of an answering hunger, and her lips opened, welcoming him.\n\nAs they kissed her arms went around his neck; her hair, released from its careful coils, tumbled down her back as hairpins scattered across the grass. Gaius groaned and pulled her against him. Now she could feel the hard strength of his body, and his need. His hands moved from her shoulders down her back, molding her body to his.\n\nEilan felt the strength going out of her knees. She clung to him, and her weight drew them both downward to the green grass. His lips moved to her cheek, her eyelids, and the soft skin of her neck as if he would devour her, and she arched against him, trembling. Her skirts had ridden upwards as they fell; his exploring hand moved down her body, paused a moment as he touched soft skin, and then brushed upward again beneath the cloth until it came to rest in the sacred place between her thighs." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius grew suddenly still, breathing hard. Then he pulled away, his eyes wide and dazed, as if they had looked into too much light.\n\n\"Lady,\" he whispered. She could seethe tremors shaking him, but somehow he was finding the control to act deliberately, dealing with their clothing, worshipping her body with an authority that grew until the light filled him also and she realized that he was not entirely Gaius anymore.\n\n\"My King!\" she whispered as the flame he had kindled seared along every nerve. \"Come tome!\"\n\nHe sighed then, sinking into her embrace as the sun into the sea, yielding to her even as she gave herself to him. In the distance she could hear shouting, as if it came from another world, and knew that the priests had lit the Beltane fires.\n\nBut a greater fire was blazing within her, and by that time, even if Caillean and all the women in the Forest House had been standing in a row watching them, Eilan would neither have known nor cared.\n\nThe day was far advanced and the sun was setting when Gaius finally stirred. Eilan drew reluctantly away from him; he reached for her once more and kissed her hard.\n\n\"I must return to the Forest House,\" she said very gently. \"They will be looking for me.\" Indeed, Miellyn would be beside herself with worry. But if Eilan could manage somehow to get back into the enclosure unseen, they might believe that the crowds had kept them apart and she had somehow found her way back alone.\n\nEven now, when passion had ebbed and she could think clearly once more, Eilan did not regret breaking her vows; the Goddess had known and had not intervened, proof enough that she had served a higher law. Part of the secret doctrine that Caillean had revealed in the months since Eilan's initiation was that before the coming of the Romans, the priestesses had taken lovers as they chose, or even married. It was only since the coming of the Romans that men had had the arrogance to control the private lives of their women. Caillean had never met the man who would tempt her to break her vows, but perhaps she would understand. On the other hand, Caillean would not agree with Eilan's choice of a lover, so perhaps she had better not tell the older priestess after all." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Eilan, don't go back.\" Gaius raised himself on one elbow to look down at her. \"I am afraid for you.\"\n\n\"I am the Arch-Druid's granddaughter; what do you suppose they would do tome?\" she replied.\n\nHer father had once said he would kill her with his own hands if she allowed what Gaius had just done, but this was not the moment to mention that. She was a woman now, and a priestess sworn, accountable only to her sisters and the gods.\n\n\"If I were thereto protect you, it wouldn't matter what they tried,\" he said darkly.\n\n\"And would I be so safe if we ran away? Where could we go? The wild tribes of the North might accept me, but you would be in danger, and where else could we run beyond the reach of Rome? You area soldier, Gaius, as bound by oaths as I. I broke one vow to fulfill a greater one, but that does not release me. I still belong to the Goddess, and must trust her to take care of me...\"\n\n\"That's more than I can do-\" he said then, rubbing his eyes.\n\n\"Nonsense. If you go back on active service you will certainly be in greater danger than I.\" Eilan clung to him once more at the thought of cold iron piercing the heart that now beat against her own, and as he kissed her again, all thoughts of the future were forgotten. Fora little while." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lying with a man had not, despite the whispered speculations Eilan remembered from the House of Maidens, destroyed her magic. At least the shielding spell she murmured as she eased through the kitchen gate and along the path to the Hall of the Priestesses appeared to prevent the few people who were about from noticing her as she passed.\n\nIn her own room she slid out of her gown and washed herself, hiding her stained shift until she should have time to soak the smear of maiden blood away. That done, she put on her night-garment and built up the fire, realizing that she was half frozen with cold, and famished. It was past the hour of the sunset meal. She ought to go to the kitchens and find herself something to eat; but she needed time to think about what had happened to her and Gaius. Or perhaps, she thought with unaccustomed self-mockery, she simply wished to close her eyes and relive their lovemaking again.\n\nShe might have expected that Gaius would be eager, but not that he would be so tender, holding back until he quivered like a drawn bow lest he go too fast and hurt her. But virgin though her body might be, the pleasure that pulsed through her had more than matched his. And in the final moments, when the ecstasy became almost too great for mortal endurance, it had seemed to her that once more it was the Goddess who encompassed her and received the gift of the God.\n\nShe sighed, noting the unaccustomed soreness and the sweet lassitude that weighted her limbs. Will the Goddess strike me dead for breaking my oath, she wondered, or will my punishment be to weep in the night, remembering what I will never have again? Isn't that better than never having known it at all? She pitied Caillean, scarred since childhood from her only experience of what men call love." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As day followed day, a certain equilibrium began to assert itself. Eilan attended Lhiannon at the rite of the full moon, and no lightning struck. The advanced training that followed initiation continued, both in skills and in lore, and as the days grew longer, they met with the older priestesses when weather permitted in one of the gardens or in the holy grove.\n\nThere were thirteen sacred oak trees, twelve in a circle, and the oldest, in the center, shading the stone altar. To Eilan, looking up at them, it seemed that even in the drowsy warmth of afternoon the trees still held something of the magic with which the moon had vested them a few nights before. Caillean's voice receded to a background murmur as Eilan gazed upward. Surely the light that glowed in their leaves was more than sunshine. All her senses seemed heightened since Beltane.\n\nThe voice of the priestess came into focus again. \"In the old days there was a sisterhood of nine high priestesses, one for each region of this land. They stood behind the queen of each tribe, advising and supporting her.\"\n\nEilan sat back against the sturdy trunk of the oak tree, linking into its steady strength, and tried to keep her eyes open.\n\n\"They were not queens themselves?\" Dieda asked.\n\n\"Their role was a less public one, though they were often of the royal line. But they were the initiators of kings, for when a king came to his hallowing, it was the priestess who became the channel by which the Goddess accepted his service, conferring a power that he in turn passed onto his queen.\"\n\n\"They were not virgins,\" Miellyn said sourly, and Eilan found herself suddenly wide awake, remembering the Merlin's words. Had shebeen the Goddess for Gaius? What then was his destiny?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The priestesses lay with men when the service of the Lady required it,\" responded Caillean in a neutral tone. \"But they did not marry; and they bore children only when it was the only way to preserve a royal line. They remained free.\"\n\n\"In the Forest House we do not marry, but I would not callus free,\" Dieda observed, frowning. \"Even though the Priestess of the Oracle chooses her successor, the Council of Druids must approve her choice.\"\n\n\"Why did things change?\" Eilan asked, need adding intensity to her tone. \"Was it because of Mona?\"\n\n\"The Druids say that our present seclusion is for our own protection,\" Caillean answered with the same careful neutrality. \"They say that only if we remain pure as Vestals will we be respected by Rome.\"\n\nEilan stared at her. Then what I did with Gaius was not flouting the Law of the Lady, but only the Druids' rules!\n\n\"But will we always have to live like this?\" Miellyn asked wistfully. \"Is there no place where we can speak the truth and serve the Goddess without interference from men?\"\n\nCaillean's eyes closed. Fora moment it seemed to Eilan that the very trees stilled, waiting to hear what the priestess would say.\n\n\"Only in a place outside time...\" Caillean whispered. \"Protected by a mist of magic from the world.\" And fora moment then Eilan seemed to see what the older woman was seeing-mist drifting like a veil across the silver waters, and white swans singing as they took the air.\n\nThen Caillean started and opened her eyes, staring in confusion around her, and through the trees they heard the gong summoning them to the evening meal." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fora time Eilan's anxieties were eased, but as the days lengthened towards Midsummer, she began to guess why the Goddess had not stricken her at once. At first, when the usual time came to seclude herself for purification according to the customs of the Forest House and there was no bloodsign, she was unconcerned; she had never been regular. But when the second month had come and gone, she became certain that the fertile magic of Beltane had worked on her only too well.\n\nHer first, instinctive joy soon yielded to terror. What would Bendeigid say? Or do? She wept then, wishing that she could go back in time and seek the comfort of her mother's arms. Then, as the days went by, she wondered if instead of pregnancy some serious illness had seized upon her as punishment for her sacrilege.\n\nAll her life she had been healthy and strong, but now she grew sick whenever she tried to eat or drink; shudders racked her everyday and she had no appetite for her food. She longed for harvest and thought wistfully of its fruits, as if they would not make her so sick. About all she could swallow without retching was the thinnest and sourest of buttermilk. Surely her sister Mairi's pregnancies had not tormented her this way, so this could hardly bean early symptom. Even the waters of the Sacred Well, when the priestesses gathered on the longest day to drink of them and seethe future, racked her with icy shudders.\n\nFrom time to time she sensed Caillean watching her, but the older woman was sick too; Eilan, who was perhaps closer to her than any other, did not know what ailed her. When asked, Caillean said that her moon cycle was troubled, but the older woman's ill-health only filled Eilan with greater fear. Surely Caillean could not be pregnant! Eilan wondered sometimes if her sin had cursed the whole Forest House, if her illness would spread first to Caillean, and presently kill them all. She dared not ask." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Caillean plucked a few thyme leaves from the bed Latis had growing in the inner court and rubbed them between her fingers, breathing deeply as the sweet scent hung in the moist morning air. Thyme was good for headaches, and perhaps it would clear hers. Today, at least, her womb had ceased the painful intermittent bleeding that had plagued her all summer, and perhaps this contact with the earth could ease the nagging sense of dread that had haunted her as well.\n\nFrom the privies on the other side of the wall she could hear someone retching. She waited, wondering who had been awakened at such an early hour. Presently she glimpsed a figure in a white shift slipping through the archway as if she feared to be seen. For the first time in weeks Caillean's inner senses awakened and she knew who it must be, and with a sudden certainty, what was wrong with her.\n\n\"Eilan, come here!\" It was the priestess-voice of command, and the girl was too well trained not to obey. With lagging footsteps, Eilan returned, and Caillean noted the pinched cheeks and the new fullness in the girl's breasts. Her own troubles must have been more distracting than she realized, she thought bitterly.\n\n\"How long have you been this way? Since Beltane?\" she asked. Eilan stared at her, her face contorting. \"My poor child!\" Caillean held out her arms and suddenly Eilan was clinging to her and sobbing.\n\n\"Oh, Caillean, Caillean! I thought I was ill... I thought I was going to die!\"\n\nCaillean stroked her hair. \"Have you had your courses during this time?\" Eilan shook her head. \"Then it is life, not death, you are carrying,\" she said, and felt the betraying release of tension in the thin body beneath her hands." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her own eyes filled with tears. This was a dreadful thing, certainly, and yet she could not help feeling a desperate envy, remembering how her own body was betraying her now and not knowing if what had come to her was only the end of the fertility she had never used or the end of her life indeed.\n\n\"Who has done this to you, my darling?\" she murmured into the girl's soft hair. \"No wonder you have been so quiet. Why didn't you tell me? You cannot have thought I would not understand!\"\n\nEilan looked up with red-rimmed eyes, and Caillean remembered that this girl did not lie. \"It was not rape-\"\n\nCaillean sighed. \"Then I suppose it was that Roman boy.\" It was not a question and Eilan nodded mutely. Caillean sighed again and looked off into space. \"Poor child,\" she said at last. \"If I had known at once, something might have been contrived, but you are three months along. We will have to tell Lhiannon, you know.\"\n\n\"What will she do tome?\" Eilan quavered.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Caillean said. \"Nothing very much, I imagine.\" There was an ancient law that demanded death fora priestess who broke her vows, but surely they would never apply that to Eilan. \"Probably you will only be sent away-you were prepared for that, I suppose. But I am sure that is the worst,\" she added.\n\nAnd if they try to punish her more harshly, thought Caillean with a spurt of her old energy, they will have to reckon with me!\n\n\"You wretch, you dirty little animal!\" cried Lhiannon. A sudden purple suffused the High Priestess's cheeks and Eilan recoiled. \"Who did this to you?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan shook her head, her eyes burning.\n\n\"You did this on purpose-you did not scream? Traitor! Did you mean to shame us all, or did you simply not think? Rutting like an animal in heat, after all our care for you-\" Lhiannon sucked in breath, gasping horribly.\n\nCaillean had suspected there would be a scene when the High Priestess was told, but it was worse than she expected. Lhiannon's health and temper had become increasingly precarious, and Caillean could see this was one of her bad days. But by then it was too late. Suddenly she slapped the girl, shouting, \"Do you think this was a holy passion? You are no better than a whore!\"\n\n\"Lhiannon-\" Caillean got an arm around the old woman's shoulders and felt some of the tension ease. \"This is not good for you. Calm yourself, Mother; let me get you some tea.\" She passed her hand across the older woman's brow and Lhiannon sagged in her arms. One-handed, Caillean poured tea from the flask into a beaker and held it to Lhiannon's lips. A minty fragrance spread through the room. The High Priestess drank, then let out her breath in along, shuddering sigh.\n\nEilan still stood numb and tearless before her. It had taken all her strength to come here. What happened next was in the lap of the gods, and at this moment, still appalled by Lhiannon's fury, she obviously found it hard to care. When Lhiannon roused, she seemed to have forgotten her fury.\n\n\"Sit down!\" she said querulously. \"It hurts my neck to lookup at you.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Partnering with the author, carry on with the tale.\nTags: fantasy, historical fantasy, druids\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Forest House\nChapter: 24" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You would not,\" Dieda said. But she felt a chill of fear.\n\n\"You shall see,\" Caillean responded calmly. \"There is no alternative. It was Lhiannon's wish, and I will do her will as we all have always done.\"\n\nDieda sighed. She did not want to see anything evil happen to Eilan. She had loved her once, but after the past few years she found it hard to love anyone. It seemed to her that the other girl had been a great fool. She had had the kind of love Dieda had been denied and thrown it away. Nor could she see why Caillean should care. Still, she would not cross her. Caillean could be a good friend or a dangerous enemy-both to her and possibly to Cynric as well. Dieda had dwelt in the Forest House long enough to know just how much influence the Irishwoman wielded in her quiet way.\n\n\"So be it,\" she said. \"I pledge to stand substitute for Eilan until she is delivered if afterward you will be responsible forgiving me my desire.\"\n\n\"I will,\" Caillean lifted one hand. \"And may the Goddess bear witness. And no one alive can say I have ever broken an oath.\"\n\nHalf a moon had passed since Lhiannon's passing, and they were come to the Feast of Lughnasad. Eilan waited with Caillean in the separate dwelling where the High Priestess had so often prepared for the rituals. Hearing sharpened by anxiety alerted her to the scuff of sandaled feet outside the door. Then it swung open, and she saw the hooded figure, seeming impossibly tall in the half-light, standing there. She could just make out the shapes of the other Druids behind him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Eilan, daughter of Rheis, the Voice of the Goddess has chosen you. Are you prepared to give yourself to Her completely?\" Ardanos's voice tolled like a great bell, and Eilan felt her belly tighten with fear.\n\nNow all the tales she had heard in the House of Maidens rose up to sweep her careful reasoning away. It hardly mattered whether the Goddess really cared about what she had done with Gaius, Eilan thought despairingly. To survive the ritual without damage would require a miracle. I meant only to challenge the Druids, but I have challenged Her, daring Her wrath this way. Surely the Goddess will strike me down! And what will this do to my child? Eilan wondered. But if the Goddess would punish an unborn baby for what the mother had done, She was not the loving Presence Eilan had sworn to serve.\n\nArdanos was waiting for her answer-they were all waiting, watching with hope or judgment in their eyes-and slowly she calmed. If the Lady does not want meas I am, I do not wish to live. She took a deep breath, fighting her way back to the decision to which in the sleepless nights since Lhiannon's death she had come.\n\n\"I am ready.\" Her voice trembled only a little. At least her own father was in the North somewhere with Cynric. She was glad. She did not think she could have met his eyes.\n\n\"And do you declare yourself a fit vessel for Her power?\"\n\nEilan swallowed. Was she? The night before she had doubted it, and wept on Caillean's shoulder like a terrified child.\n\n\"Fit? Who is, if you put it like that?\" Caillean had asked. \"We are all only mortal; but it is you who have been chosen. Why else have you been preparing for so many years?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Arch-Druid was watching her like a hawk waiting for some betraying rustle in the grass, waiting for her to perjure herself so that she would be in his power. She realized dimly that he was enjoying this.\n\nLhiannon thought I was fit, she told herself then. Only by going through with this could she justify Lhiannon's dying choice, and the choice she herself had made when she gave herself to Gaius beneath the trees. It had seemed to her then that she was affirming a more ancient law of the Goddess than the one pledging her to chastity. To refuse this test was to admit that act of love had been a sin. She lifted her chin proudly. \"I am a fit and holy vessel. Let the earth rise up and cover me, let the sky fall down and crush me, and let the gods by whom I swear forsake me if I lie!\"\n\n\"The candidate has been questioned, and she has sworn-\" Ardanos said to the Druids who attended him. He turned to the priestesses. \"Let her now be purified and prepared for the ritual-\"\n\nFora moment he looked at her, and pity, exasperation, and satisfaction seemed to war in his gaze. Then he turned on his heel and led the men from the room.\n\n\"Eilan, you must not tremble so,\" Caillean said softly. \"Don't let that old buzzard scare you, there is nothing to fear. The Goddess is merciful. She is our mother, Eilan, and the Mother of all women, the maker of all things mortal. Do not forget it.\"\n\nEilan nodded, knowing that even if this moment had come to her in the ordinary course of events she would still have been afraid. If she must die, it should beat the hands of the Goddess, there was no need to perish of fear beforehand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The curtain stirred again and four of the youngest priestesses, among them Senara and Eilidh, came into the room carrying pails of water from the sacred spring. They stopped just inside the door, looking at her in awe. The hand of the Goddess has descended on me, she thought, and it seemed that she saw in their faces something of that same wonder with which she herself had always looked on Lhiannon. They were all young; not one of them, except Eilidh, even as old as she was herself...\n\nShe wanted to cry out, \"Nothing has changed; I am still Eilan-\" but in fact everything had changed. Yet when they stripped off her gown and she looked down, she was startled that her body still looked so little altered.\n\nBut these were virgins. So it was not surprising that they should not seethe slight changes her pregnancy had made. As Eilan had done so often for Lhiannon, the girls helped her to bathe. She stood shivering in the chilly room, feeling the icy touch of the clear water on her body as, curiously, a purification; as if somehow it were dissolving away not only the last traces of her contact with Gaius, but the whole of her previous life.\n\nIt was an entirely new Eilan who allowed them to robe her in the ritual garments. About her forehead they bound the traditional garland. As she felt the vines tighten around her forehead, she had a moment of dizziness, and wondered if this was the first, faraway touch of the Goddess.\n\nShe felt strange and light-headed, altogether unlike herself; vaguely she recognized hunger. The sacred herbs in the potion given her at the commencement of the ritual must betaken on an empty stomach, lest they make her very ill. Caillean had once said that she believed that Lhiannon's ill health was partly caused by her protracted use of these herbs. Briefly Eilan wondered if before long her own health would be endangered as well. Then she smiled, thinking there would be time enough to worry about her future if she survived this evening." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They brought her the chased golden bowl with the magical potion of Vision. She knew that it contained berries of mistletoe and other sacred herbs; she had more than once seen Miellyn gathering those herbs. The sacred potion also contained various mushrooms; the common people avoided them, as much for their sacred character as for belief that they were poisonous, and certainly they were useless as food. The priestesses knew, however, that taken in small quantities they could amplify the ordinary clairvoyance in which she had been trained.\n\nTrembling, Eilan did as she had often enough seen Lhiannon do, and took it from Eilidh's hands. Caillean had been right, she thought as she raised the bowl to her lips. She had assisted in this ritual so often that she did know what to do.\n\nAnd from her ceremonial sips she had thought she knew what to expect from the potion as well. But as she tipped it upward, she realized that the Priestess was required to drain it at a single draft because otherwise no one would ever have been able to get it down. It was intensely bitter, and when she had swallowed it, she began to wonder if it was poison after all. That would have been a good way for Ardanos to get rid of her. But Caillean had assured her that she would prepare the herbs herself and let no one else have access to them, and she had to trust her.\n\nHer head swam and fora moment her stomach revolted. Perhaps her punishment was beginning now. But after a short, sharp struggle she controlled herself, swallowed a few sips of water to clear her mouth of the taste and closed her eyes, waiting.\n\nPresently, the acute feeling of sickness passed. Eilan closed her eyes against the wave of dizziness, and sat down, waiting to recover her balance. Vaguely she remembered that this, too, had been part of the procedure with Lhiannon. At the time, Eilan had thought it the weakness of age. But Lhiannon had really not been so old. Would she, too, age before her time? Well, she could only hope she would have a chance to grow old!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was a little stir in the room, and the young girls drew away. Eilan realized that Ardanos was standing before her. She lifted heavy eyelids to look at him, and he met her gaze with an unsmiling stare.\n\n\"Eilan, I see they have prepared you. You look very beautiful, my dear. The people will be sure the Goddess has come to them...\" The kindly words sounded strange from his lips.\n\nWill they? she wondered muzzily. And what do you think, old man, if you believe in the Goddess at all? By your rules, these garlands should be withering on my brow! But it no longer mattered; she felt as if she were floating above all this; with every moment she drifted further away.\n\n\"The drink is taking her swiftly,\" he muttered, and gestured to the maidens to stand away. \"Listen, my child-I know you can still hear me...\" His voice slipped into the melodic intonation of ritual as he went on.\n\nEilan knew that he was saying something of great importance, something that she must remember... what, she was not certain. Time passed, and he was no longer there. Did any of it matter, she wondered then? She felt as if she were floating above a green darkness. The very tops of the trees were far below. She was being carried in something-a litter-then they set her down and helped her to stand. She could feel Caillean beside her and someone else, she thought it was Latis, on her other side. They took her hands and drew her into the procession towards the torches that ringed the sacred mound.\n\nEilan was aware enough to hang back fora moment when she saw the three-legged stool. There had been some reason why she should not sit there; some sin upon her soul. But her attendants drew her forward, and she thought that if she could not remember it, perhaps it made no difference." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They had sacrificed the sacred bull already and shared its meat among the people. The priests had played out the ritual in which the young god wrested the harvest from the old. Now it was time to seek omens for the autumntide. In the east the harvest moon was rising, golden as the ornaments that her Priestess wore.\n\nLook down on me, Lady, Eilan fought to form the prayer. Ward me well!\n\nOne of the attendant priestesses had placed in her hand the little curved golden dagger of ritual. She raised the dagger, and with one swift movement plunged it into her fingertip. She felt a sharp pain, and one heavy drop of blood gleamed on the surface; she held it over the golden bowl, letting three drops of blood fall. The bowl was filled to the brim with water from the Sacred Well, and floating on the surface were leaves of the sacred plant, the mistletoe. Planted by no human hand, and growing between air and earth, it partook of the very nature of the lightning which had engendered it.\n\nNow they were turning her; she felt the hardwood against the backs of her knees and sat down. There was a moment of dizziness as the priests lifted her and carried her to the mound. The attendant priestesses had drawn back.\n\nAs the priests began to sing Eilan felt as if she were falling, or perhaps rising, borne away by the song in some direction that had no relation to ordinary reality. She wondered why she had been afraid. In this place she floated; needing and wanting nothing, content simply to be...\n\nAblaze of torches assaulted her eyes; below her all the assembled crowd seemed to blur into a single face. Their eyes, upon her were like a weight, a positive physical pressure drawing her back to a place that was in, and yet not of, the world." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Children of Don, why have you come here?\" Ardanos's voice seemed very faraway.\n\n\"We seek the blessing of the Goddess,\" a male voice replied.\n\n\"Then call Her!\"\n\nEilan's nostrils flared as smoke swirled around her, heavy with the scent of sacred herbs. Involuntarily she breathed in and her breath caught; the world whirled and she fought for balance; she heard a voice whimpering and did not know it washer own. From below rose the sound of many other voices, calling, calling:\n\nDark Huntress... Bright Mother... Lady of Flowers, hear us... Come to us, Lady of the Silver Wheel...\n\nI am Eilan... Eilan... She clung to her own identity, crying out as the need in those voices assaulted her until she felt their pressure as a physical pain. At the same time, another pressure was building up behind her, or perhaps within her, demanding that she let it in. Spasms shook her body as she fought; she felt terror as the Self that she knew was constricted between them; she could not breathe. Help me! her spirit cried.\n\nShe slumped forward, seeing the glimmer of water before her, and a voice that seemed to come from within her said then:\n\n\"Daughter, I am always here. To see Me, you have only to gaze into the Sacred Pool.\"\n\n\"Look into the water, Lady-\" a voice that was very near commanded. \"Look into the bowl, and see!\"\n\nAn image was forming in the troubled surface of the water, but as it cleared Eilan saw that the face reflected there was not her own. She jerked back in panic, and heard the voice once more.\n\n\"My daughter, rest now. Your spirit will be safe with Me...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With the words came a tide of love that Eilan remembered, and with the same trust with which she had given herself to Gaius she sighed and slid away into the warm comfort of the Lady's arms.\n\nAs if from a great distance, she was aware that her body was straightening, she was putting back her veil, lifting her hands to the moon.\n\n\"Behold, the Lady of Life has come to us!\" in a great voice Caillean cried. \"Let us welcome her!\"\n\nAnd the sound of many voices rose like a tide and carried her to a place where she could watch the body she had left behind move and speak with wonder, but with no fear.\n\nAs the cheering subsided, the High Priestess sank back onto the seat once more; the identity that filled her waiting in a timeless patience for the response of humankind.\n\n\"There are the questions the people bring to you,\" the Arch-Druid said, and because he spoke to her in the old speech of the Wise Ones, it was in that language that the Goddess answered him.\n\nAfter each question the priest turned to the people and said something in the common language. From that far-off realm from which Eilan was listening it seemed to her odd that his statements, if they were translations, had so little to do with what the Goddess replied. That did not seem right, but perhaps she had not heard him clearly, and in this place in which she had found refuge it was hard to care.\n\nThe questioning went on, but as time passed, she found her perceptions becoming more and more disjointed. It seemed to her that Ardanos frowned then and leaned close to her.\n\n\"Lady, we thank you for your words. It is time to leave this body through which you have spoken. Hail now, and farewell!\" He plucked the sprig of mistletoe from the golden bowl and shook droplets of water over her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fora moment Eilan was blinded, then her body convulsed. Pain stabbed through her and she fell into darkness on a shimmer of silver bells.\n\nWhen awareness began to return Eilan realized that the priestesses were singing. She knew the song; it seemed to her that once she had sung it but, aching and dizzied as she was, she could not sing now. They had removed the constricting garlands from her head, and someone was bathing her brow and hands. Someone gave her water to drink and a voice murmured in her ear. Caillean... She felt herself lifted and settled into the carrying chair.\n\n\"Hail unto Thee,\" the women sang.\n\n\"Jewel of the night!\" the Druids replied.\n\n\"Beauty of the heavens... Mother of the stars... Fosterling of the Sun...\" The priestesses held up their white arms to the silver moon.\n\n\"Majesty of the stars...\" they sang, and with each chorus, \"Jewel of the night!\" the deep voices of the men replied.\n\nAlong time later, it seemed, Eilan found herself back in her own bed in the House of the High Priestess. The light of the torches was no longer assaulting her eyes, and the effects of the sacred drink must be wearing off at last, for she found that she could think clearly once more. For some reason a fragment of an ancient ballad was floating in her mind.\n\n\"After they stripped her ornaments away, and burned her sacred flowers...\" She could not remember where they had come from, but she knew that her garlands had been thrown on the fire; the sweet scent of their burning had filled the air. Now other things came back to her-the singing of the priestesses, the silver moon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "But though she knew there had been questions, Eilan found she could not remember a word of her replies." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Whatever they had been, the populace had seemed to find them satisfactory.\n\nAnd the Goddess, she thought then. She did not strike me dead after all! At least not yet, though she might yet come to wish She had done so. Eilan's stomach was still unsettled; she felt as if she had been beaten with sticks and would no doubt feel even worse tomorrow. But it washer belly, not her womb, that was aching. She had faced her ordeal and survived.\n\n\"Goodnight, Lady,\" said Eilidh from the doorway. \"May you rest well.\"\n\nLady... thought Eilan. It was true, then. She was Lady of Vernemeton now.\n\nA few days later Caillean summoned Dieda to the High Priestess's rooms. Eilan sat by the fire, looking pale and strained.\n\n\"The time has come for you to keep your word. Eilan is well enough to travel now, and we are sending her into hiding to bear her child.\"\n\n\"This is ridiculous. Do you really think no one will notice the change?\" Dieda said bitterly.\n\n\"Since she became High Priestess, she has been veiled so much of the time that few of the women in the house will know the difference, and no doubt they will put it down to the effects of the ritual.\"\n\nCynric would know, Dieda thought with longing, wishing he would appear and carry her away. But it had been over a year since she had heard from him. Even if he knew, would he have come?\n\n\"Your father is grateful to you,\" said Caillean.\n\nDieda grimaced, And well he should be. If I had insisted on leaving hereto marry Cynric, what would have become of this fine charade?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Dieda.\" For the first time Eilan spoke on her own behalf. \"We have been like sisters. For the sake of the blood we share, and because you, too, know what it is to love, please help me!\"\n\n\"At least I had better sense than to give myself to a man who would abandon me!\" Dieda said tartly. \"Caillean has vowed to send me to Eriu. Sister, what will you promise me?\"\n\n\"If I remain High Priestess I will try to help you and Cynric. If I fail in this, you have the knowledge to destroy me. Will that be enough for you?\"\n\n\"That is true.\" Dieda found herself smiling strangely. And when she had finished learning from the Druids of Eriu, she would be able to raise blisters on a man's skin with a word, or charm any bird or beast with her song; she would have skills of which these pious fools did not dream. She realized suddenly that it was only the constraints of the priestesses that irked her. She could learn to enjoy wielding power.\n\n\"Very well, I will help you,\" she said, and held out her hand for the veil." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Despite the tales the Romans of Londinium told about the North, traveling through northern Britain at the end of summer was no hardship fora young and healthy man. It did not rain everyday, and the air was sweet with the smell of curing hay. As Gaius traveled up the eastern side of Britain through country that grew ever wilder, he observed the woods and hills with a professional interest, for on his previous campaign they had marched up the western coast through Lenacum, and the eastern was new to him. With Capellus, his father's orderly, once more at his side, the details of making camp and tending the horses were handled efficiently. And his own British tongue was enough to win them a welcome when they had to seek shelter at a native holding.\n\nAs Gaius moved further north, more of the talk was of the Governor Agricola's campaigns. From a newly retired veteran who managed one of the posting stations he learned that in the previous year the appearance of a Roman fleet off the Caledonian coast had struck the natives with such panic that they had attacked in desperation, and succeeded in savaging the already weakened Ninth Legion before Agricola sent his cavalry around to attack their rear.\n\n\"It was bad, my boy, very bad,\" admitted the station-keeper, \"with them demons howling like wolves in the middle of our camp and men falling over tent lines as they tried to get to their arms. But somehow we held them, and I won't forget the moment when suddenly we could seethe glitter of our standards and knew that day was coming at last.\" He took another long drink of the thin wine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.\n\n\"Then, I'll tell you, we found our courage, and when the Twentieth finally came up to help us we were ready to tell them they were too late for the party and should go home! But the General kept the men to their work. If those painted devils hadn't scuttled back to their pestilent woods and marshes, we'd have mopped them up entirely. But I suppose we had to leave something for you young glory-hounds to do!\" He laughed and offered Gaius more wine." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius suppressed a smile. He had learned something of the battle from men who had been sent home to Deva, but it was interesting to hear the story from someone who had actually been inside the camp when the Caledonians attacked it.\n\n\"Ah, the General is a great man! After last summer, even those who hung back and whined about the danger are singing his praises. He'll find work for you, no doubt about it, and you'll start your career with some honors behind you! I wish I was coming with you, lad, so I do!\"\n\nLicinius had said nothing about the possibility of actually serving with the Governor, but Gaius wondered suddenly if the messages he carried were at least partially intended to bring him to Agricola's attention. As a provincial governor, Agricola was unusual in that he had got on quite well with his procurators. A word from Licinius might indeed be useful.\n\nIn the previous campaign Gaius had been no more than one of a gaggle of young officers, all eager for glory and depending heavily on their centurions. He had been impressed by what he had seen of their commander, but there was no reason for the General to remember him. Ambition stirred within at the thought of winning his commander's esteem.\n\nPresently Gaius left the hunting runs of the Brigantes behind him and moved into even wilder country where the folk spoke a dialect he did not know. Rome might conquer these lands, he thought, as he rode over barren heaths and through shadowed forests, but he wondered if she could ever rule them. Only the need to prevent the wild Caledonians and their Hibernian allies from tearing at the richer fields of the South-as they had destroyed the house of Bendeigid-could begin to justify a Roman presence here." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The long northern twilight was deepening the sky to violet when Gaius rode into Pinnata Castra, the fortress the Twentieth Legion was building above the firth of the Tava where the fleet had made so impressive a showing the summer before. Stonewalls were already rising behind the stout palisade, and the leather tents of a marching camp had been replaced by barracks and stabling of timber that looked as if they could stand up even to a winter in these wilds. The place seemed all the larger because it appeared to be almost empty.\n\n\"Where is everyone?\" he asked as he rode under the legionary wild boar emblazoned on the gate and presented his orders to the officer on duty.\n\n\"Up there.\" The man waved vaguely towards the North. \"The word is that the tribes have united at last under a Votadini chieftain called Calgacus. The Old Man's been chasing'em all summer, laying down marching camps behind him like steppingstones. You'll have another week's riding to catch him, but tonight at least you can sleep under a roof and put a hot meal inside you. No doubt the Prefect will give you an escort in the morning; it would be a shame to get picked off by an ambush after you've come so far!\"\n\nBy this time Gaius was less interested in a meal than in soaking himself in the legionary bathhouse, but he was glad enough for the dinner once he was clean again, and his host, who was clearly lonely and a little nervous, left herewith his small command, seemed glad to welcome him to his quarters and have someone new to talk to.\n\n\"Did you hear about the Usipii mutiny?\" asked the Prefect as the remains of the sauced grouse on which they had been dining were cleared away." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius set down his wine cup-it had been a rather nice Falernian-and looked expectant.\n\n\"A bunch of raw Germans, you know, fresh from their dismal marshes, sent up to Lenacum as levies. They mutinied and stole three ships-ended up sailing all the way from west to east around the coast of Britannia.\"\n\nGaius stared. \"Then Britannia is an island...\" That question had been a topic of dinner-table debate for as long as he could remember.\n\n\"It would seem so,\" the man nodded. \"Eventually the Suevi caught the survivors and sold them as slaves back to the Roman side of the Rhenus, and so we learned the story!\"\n\n\"Remarkable!\" said Gaius. The wine had done its work, and he was beginning to feel nicely toasted. It would make a good story to tell Julia when he got back to Londinium. He was a little surprised to realize that he was thinking of it as something to share with her-but it was a tale whose ironies could only be appreciated by someone from his own world. Eilan would not have understood at all. He realized that he was really two people-the Roman who was betrothed to Julia, and the Briton who loved Eilan.\n\nThe next day it began to drizzle. Gaius snuffled and coughed as they moved forward through the sodden landscape, thinking that it was no wonder they said the tribesmen could dissolve into the heather at will. It seemed to him that the hills were dissolving into the sky, and the woods into the soil, and he and his horse into the mud through which they toiled.\n\nAt least, he thought dismally, he was riding. He pitied the legionaries, who had to slog along this road weighted by all their weapons and gear. Sometimes they saw sheep on a hillside, or the little black cattle the natives herded, but except for an arrow that flashed by Gaius's head from the trees as they were fording one of the streams, there was no sign of hostile forces anywhere." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Good news for us, but maybe bad for the army,\" the decurion who led his escort said somberly. \"If the warriors aren't guarding their own hunting runs, it can only mean they really have united at last. No one can deny they're good enough fighters when their blood is up. If the tribes had been able to join forces when Caesar came, the Empire would still end on the coasts of Gaul.\"\n\nGaius nodded and pulled his brick-colored cloak more tightly around him, wondering what fate had inspired Licinius to send his messages at just the moment when perhaps the most formidable confederation of British tribes ever to assemble was about to attack the army that Agricola had led north...\n\n\"You have news from Martius Julius Licinius? Tell me, is he well?\"\n\nThe man who emerged from the large leather tent was only of middle height, and without his armor almost slender, but despite the raindrops glittering in his graying hair and the shadows around his eyes, he projected an aura of authority that would have identified him even without the cloak, of scarlet so deep it was almost purple, that he wore.\n\n\"Gaius Macellius Severus Siluricus reporting, sir!\" He drew himself up and saluted, ignoring the water that dripped from the brim of his helmet. \"The Procurator is well, and sends you his dearest greetings. As you may read in his letters, sir-\"\n\n\"Indeed.\" Agricola held out his hand for the packet and smiled. \"And best read undercover before they dissolve from damp. You must be wet as well, after your ride. Tacitus here will take you over to the officers' campfire and see to your billeting.\" He indicated a tall, saturnine young man whom Gaius later learned was his son-in-law. \"Now that you are here, you had best wait for the conclusion of the fighting so that I can send a report home with you again.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius blinked as the Governor withdrew into his tent. He had forgotten the man's charm, or perhaps it had never been directed at him personally when he was just one junior officer among many. Then Tacitus took his arm, and, wincing a little as his stiffening thigh muscles protested, Gaius followed him.\n\nIt was very good to sit around a campfire with his brother officers once more, eating hot lentil stew and hard bread and drinking sour wine. Only now did Gaius realize how much he had missed that camaraderie. Once the other tribunes had been reminded of his previous campaign experience and realized he was not just a parade-ground soldier, they accepted him, and as the wine jug went round, even the rain that was still beading on his cloak did not seem so cold. The tension he sensed around him was only to be expected, and morale seemed high. The loricas of the men on duty were scoured and shining despite the weather, and new paint gleamed on battered shields. The young staff officers with whom he was sitting seemed serious, but not afraid.\n\n\"Do you think the General will be able to bring Calgacus to battle?\" he asked.\n\nOne of the other men laughed. \"More likely to be the other way round. Can't you hear'em?\" He gestured into the windy darkness. \"They're up there all right, howling and painting themselves blue! The scouts say there's thirty thousand men upon Graupius-warriors of the Votadini and Selgovae, Novantae and Dobunni and all the other little clans we've been chasing these past four years, and Caledonians from northern tribes whose names even they don't know. Calgacus will give us a battle, no doubt of it; he has to, before they all start remembering old feuds and begin to fight each other instead!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And how many,\" Gaius asked carefully, \"have we?\"\n\n\"From the Legions, fifteen thousand: the Twentieth Valeria Victrix, Second Adiutrix, and what's left of the Ninth,\" said one of the tribunes, who by his insignia, was attached to the Second.\n\nGaius looked at him with interest. The tribune had joined the Legion since Gaius had been in Londinium, but there must be others here from his father's Legion whom he would know.\n\n\"And eight thousand auxiliary infantry, mostly Batavians and Tungri, some Brigantian irregulars and four wings of cavalry.\" This was from a troop commander, who shortly thereafter took his leave to return to his men.\n\n\"Well, that's not so unequal, is it?\" Gaius said brightly, and someone laughed.\n\n\"It would be no problem at all, except that they hold the higher ground.\"\n\nOn the upper slopes of the peak the Romans called Mons Graupius, the wind was colder. The Britons gave the mountain other names-the Old Woman, ancient and enduring, Deathbringer and Winter Hag. As the night wore on, it was in her latter aspect that Cynric was meeting her. Here, the gusts of rain that fell in the valleys were coming down in bursts of sleet that stung his cheeks and fell hissing into the fires.\n\nThe Caledonians did not appear to mind. They sat around their campfires, draining skins of heather ale and boasting of tomorrow's victory. Cynric pulled his checked cloak over his head, hoping that it would hide his shivering.\n\n\"The hunter who boasts too loudly at dawning may find himself with an empty cookpot when night falls,\" said a quiet voice at his elbow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Cynric turned and recognized Bendeigid, his pale robes a ghostly blur in the darkness.\n\n\"Our warriors have always chanted thus before battle-it raises their spirits!\"\n\nHe turned and gazed at the men around the fire. This lot were Novantae of the White Horse Clan, from the south-east coast of Caledonia, where the Salmaes firth ran in towards Luguvalium. But at the fire beyond them Selgovae men were drinking, their hereditary enemies. The volume rose and he saw the figure of their commander lit suddenly as someone threw anew logon the fire. The chieftain threw back his head, laughing, and the light flamed anew in his pale eyes and his red hair.\n\n\"We're on our own ground, lads, and the land itself will fight for us! The Red-cloaks are driven by greed, which is a cold counselor, but we burn with the fire of freedom! How can we fail?\"\n\nThe Novantae, hearing his words, left their own fire to gather around him, and in moments the two groups had become a single mass of cheering men.\n\n\"He's right,\" said Cynric. \"If Calgacus has been able to persuade this lotto stand together, how can we fail?\"\n\nBendeigid remained silent and, despite his bold words, Cynric felt the serpent of anxiety that had been gnawing at him since night fell begin to stir once more.\n\n\"What is it?\" he asked. \"Have you had an omen?\"\n\nBendeigid shook his head. \"No omens-I think the odds for this fight are so evenly balanced that even the gods will not wager on its outcome. We have the advantage, true, but Agricola is a formidable opponent. If Calgacus, great leader though he is, underestimates him, it could be fatal.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Cynric let out his breath in along sigh. He had fought so hard to prove himself to these tribesmen, who had begun by mocking him as the son of a defeated people even when they did not know his blood was tainted by that of Rome, defiance had become second nature. But with his foster father he need not pretend.\n\n\"I hear the singing, but I cannot join in it; I drink, but my belly remains cold. Father, will my courage fail me tomorrow when we face the Roman steel?\" At times like this, he could not help wondering if he should have runoff with Dieda when he had the chance.\n\nBendeigid turned him so the Druid could look into Cynric's eyes. \"You will not fail,\" he said fiercely. \"These men are still fighting for glory. They do not understand their enemy as you do. But in battle your despair will only make you more terrible. Remember that you area Raven, Cynric, and what you will seek down there tomorrow is not honor, but revenge!\"\n\nThat night Gaius lay listening to other men's breathing and wondering why sleep came so hard. This was a drier bed than any he had slept in for sometime, and he had been in battles before. But his other fights, he reflected, had been unexpected skirmishes that were over almost as soon as they had begun.\n\nHe sought for some distraction, and suddenly found himself remembering Eilan. During the journey north it had been Julia he thought of, imagining her amusement at some bit of odd gossip or army tale. But he could never admit to Julia the things that in this moment of darkness were haunting him-\n\nSurrounded by all these men I feel alone... I want to lay my head on your breast and feel your arms around me... I am alone, Eilan, and I am afraid!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Finally he passed at last into an uneasy slumber, and in his dreaming it seemed to him that he and Eilan were together in a hut in the midst of the forest. He kissed her, and realized that her body was rounding with his child. She smiled at him and pulled her gown tight over her belly so that he could see; he laid his hand upon the hard curve and felt the child move within and thought that she had never been so beautiful. She opened her arms to him and drew him down beside her, murmuring words of love.\n\nGaius fell into a deeper sleep then. When he woke, men were stirring around him, pulling on their tunics and fumbling to lace their armor in the dim gray hour before the dawn.\n\n\"Why isn't he putting the Legions in the battle line?\" Gaius asked Tacitus in an undertone.\n\nThey sat their horses with the rest of the General's personal staff on a little hill, watching the light infantry spread out in along line below the mountain with the cavalry to either side. The pale light gleamed on the smooth tops of their bronze helmets and their spear points, and glinted on their mail. Rough pasture rose towards the lower slopes beyond them, where the dry grass gave way to broad swathes of garnet-brown bracken and the paler purple of heather. But much of the topography of Graupius could only be guessed at, for the lower part of the mountain was hidden by armed men.\n\n\"Because they're under strength,\" the answer came. \"The Emperor siphoned off men from all four Legions, remember, for his German campaign. As a result, three thousand of our crack troops are kicking their heels in Germania while the Chatti and the Sugambri laugh at them, and Agricola will have to use every trick he knows to compensate. He's got the Legions formed up in front of the entrenchments where they can support us if we fallback, but he hopes it won't come to that.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But it was the Emperor who ordered the Governor to secure northern Caledonia, wasn't it?\" Gaius asked. \"Domitian is a soldier. Wouldn't he know-?\"\n\nTacitus smiled, and Gaius felt suddenly like a child.\n\n\"Some would say,\" he answered softly, \"that he knows all too well. Titus gave our Governor a hero's honors for his successes in Britannia, and when this campaign is over Agricola's term as Governor will be done. Perhaps the Emperor feels there is not room for two victorious generals in Rome.\"\n\nGaius looked towards their Commander, who was watching the deployment of his troops with grave attention. His armor, of dagged scale over mail, glittered in the growing light, and the horse-hair crest of his helmet stirred slightly in the breeze. Beneath the mail, tunic and breeches were snowy white, but in the early morning light his crimson cloak glowed balefully.\n\nYears later, on a visit to Rome, Gaius read the passage from the biography of Agricola in which Tacitus described that day. He had to smile at the speeches, which had been elaborated for literary effect in the best rhetorical tradition, for while they had both heard the General's words, the wind brought them only fragments of the harangue of Calgacus, which Gaius no doubt understood much better than Tacitus.\n\nCalgacus had begun first; at least they could see a tall man with hair the color of a fox-pelt striding back and forth before the most richly dressed of the enemy, and assumed it must be he. Echoing from the slopes behind him, phrases drifted across the open ground.\n\n\"... they have eaten the land, and behind us remains only the sea!\" Calgacus gestured northward. \"... let us destroy these monsters who would sell our children into slavery!\" The Caledonians began to roar approval, and the next words were lost. When Gaius could hear again, the enemy leader seemed to be talking about the Iceni rebellion." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "ran in terror when Boudicca, a woman, raised the Trinobantes against them... do not even risk their own people against us! Let the Gauls and our brothers the Brigantes remember how the Romans have betrayed them, and let the Batavians desert them as the Usipii have done!\" There was a little stir in the ranks of the auxiliaries from those who understood this as Calgacus continued his appeal to the Caledonians to fight for their liberty, but a word from their commanders calmed them.\n\nThe tribesmen were crowding forward, singing and shaking their spears, and Gaius trembled, hearing in that wild music a call that awakened memories almost too old for him to have words for them, of songs that he had heard among the Silures when he was a babe in arms. And the hidden side of his soul, the mother's side, wept in answer, for Gaius had seen the Mendip mines, and the lines of British slaves being marched onto ships for sale in Rome, and he knew that what Calgacus said was true.\n\nThe Romans, understanding the tone if not the words, were stirring angrily. It was in that moment, when it seemed that their discipline, if not their loyalty might break, that Agricola raised his hand and reined his white horse around to face them, and his officers drew close to hear what he would say.\n\nThe General seemed to speak quietly, like a kindly father reassuring an excited child, but his words carried. He spoke of the distance they had covered, their courage in going beyond the boundaries of the Roman world, and gently pointed out the dangers of trying to retreat through such a hostile country.\n\n\"... a retiring general or army is never safe... death with honor is preferable to life with ignominy... Even to fall in this extremest verge of earth and of nature cannot bethought an inglorious fate.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "As for the Caledonians, whom Calgacus had called the last freemen in Britain, in Agricola's version they became fugitives." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"... the remaining number consists solely of the cowardly and spiritless; whom you see at length within your reach, not because they have stood their ground, but because they are overtaken.\" Fora moment, listening to that calm and kindly voice destroy the Caledonian vision of glory, Gaius almost hated him. But he could not deny the General's conclusion, which was that a Roman victory today could bring an end to a struggle that had gone on for fifty years.\n\nIt seemed to Gaius that in this man he saw the essence of what Macellius meant by a Roman. Despite the fact that Agricola's family was of Gaulish extraction and had risen through successful public service first to the middle rank of equestrian and then to senator, he made Gaius think of the old heroes of republican Rome.\n\nLicinius's clerks held their master in affection, but in the way Agricola's officers watched him Gaius sensed something else, an intensity of devotion that kept them steady even when the savages on the mountain began to raise their courage to battle heat by war cries and beating on their shields. Apparently this attitude extended to the men under Agricola's command, and Gaius, observing that stern profile and hearing the General speak as calmly as if he had been conversing in his tent with a few friends, thought suddenly, This is the kind of devotion that makes Emperors. Perhaps Domitian was right to be afraid.\n\nThe Caledonians were ranged upon the rising ground, their ranks rising in tier upon tier above the plain. Now their chariots came rushing down the slope with the horsemen ranging about them, agile ponies careering at full tilt with their drivers swaying on the wickerwork platforms while the spearmen they carried shook their weapons and laughed.\n\nTo Gaius they were an image of beauty and terror. He understood that he was seeing the warrior soul of Britannia as Caesar and Frontinus had seen it, sensing that after this it would never be seen in all its glory again. The chariots hurtled forward, turning at the last moment as their javelins thudded into the Roman shields, and the warriors ran out along the poles between the horses, throwing their swords glittering into the air and catching them again. They had come to this battle as if to a festival, and the sun glinted from torques and armrings. Some had mail and helmets, but most fought in brightly checked tunics or half naked, their fair skin painted with spiraling designs in blue. Gaius could hear their boasting above the rattle of the chariot wheels, and felt not terror but a terrible sorrow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "One of the tribunes protested loudly as Agricola dismounted and a man came up to lead his horse away, but the faces of the others set grimly at this evidence that whatever happened to his army, Agricola would not flee." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They would give their lives to protect him, thought Gaius, and so, he realized suddenly, would I. Some of the General's personal staff were dismounting as quiet orders set others cantering down the lines. Gaius reined back, uncertain what to do.\n\n\"You.\" The General gestured him closer. \"Get down to the Tungri and tell them to spread out further. Tell them that I know it weakens the center, but I don't want the enemy outflanking us.\"\n\nAshe kicked his pony into a gallop, Gaius heard the thunk of javelins slamming into shields behind him and realized that the British chariots had pulled away and their first line of infantry were moving in. He bent over the animal's neck and urged it to better speed. The space between two armies that were closing for the first, devastating exchange of missiles was no place to be. He saw the gleam of the Tungrian standard before him and the line parted to let him through; then he was gabbling his message, moving behind the men as they began to press sideways, and watching from the corner of his eye as the enemy attack expanded outward.\n\nThe British warriors were good, he thought as he saw them deflecting Roman spears with their round shields. Their greatswords were longer even than the Roman spatha, slashing weapons blunt at the tips but wickedly sharpened along the side. The Roman trumpets blared and Agricola's center bulged forward, closing with the enemy.\n\nGaius knew he could do no more good herewith the infantry, but the General had given him no further orders; with sudden decision he kneed his mount further down the line to join the cavalry there. Over the heads of the auxiliaries he saw the battle lines breaking up into a close, confused struggle in which the Caledonians had no room to swing their longer swords. This was the Batavians'favorite kind of fighting; they pressed forward, stabbing with their gladii and smashing enemy faces with the bosses of their shields. There was a shout from the Romans as the first line of foes gave way, and Agricola's center began to advance up the lower slopes of the mountain after them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "More slowly, the infantry to either side tried to follow them, but now the British chariots, seeing their lines thin and sensing a weakness, plunged towards them, bouncing on the rough ground. In another moment they were in among the infantry like wolves in a sheepfold, savaging the foot soldiers with sword and spear. Someone screamed at the men to close ranks; men and horses and chariots swirled in confusion; Gaius saw a blue-painted warrior loom up before him and thrust with his spear.\n\nIn the moments that followed, things happened too fast for thinking. Gaius stabbed and parried as weapons flared around him. A chariot plunged towards him and his pony whirled, throwing him hard against the back horns of his saddle. He felt the spear wrenched out of his hand and ducked as a javelin sped towards him. The missile clanged on his helmet, caught fora moment in the crest and fell away. Gaius blinked dizzily, understanding now why only officers wore crests on their helms in battle, but the pony, wiser than its master, was already carrying him out of danger.\n\nFora moment he was clear; Gaius tugged his spatha from its sheath and straightened. He could see now that the chariots, having failed to breakthrough the Roman lines, were becoming entangled within them. A chariot lurched towards him on the uneven ground; wood crunched as a wheel hit a boulder and it slewed round. He saw the driver hacking at the traces. Whinnying wildly, the horses sprang free, joining the others that careered in panic through the battle, knocking down friend and foe.\n\nBattle was fairly joined now; the slopes of Graupius seethed with knots of struggling men, clumping and unraveling and knotting again in a constantly shifting tapestry. But it appeared to Gaius that little by little, the Romans were gaining ground." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then a spear seemed to thrust up from the ground before him with a snarling face behind it; his pony reared as he whacked the shaft aside with his sword and slashed downward. Red covered the blue designs as the blade bit, then the horse leaped forward and the face was gone, and Gaius was slashing and guarding with no time for thinking at all.\n\nWhen he next had a moment to focus, they were well up the mountain. From the left he heard shouting; the Caledonians who had been watching the battle from the summit were now descending, leaping down the slope with appalling swiftness to take the Romans from the rear. Could Agricola see it? Gaius heard once more the bray of the Roman trumpets, and grinned as the four wings of cavalry the General had been reserving swung into action at last. They outflanked the Britons and hammered them against the anvil of the infantry; then the true slaughter began.\n\nCalgacus's force had lost all cohesion. Some men were still fighting, others tried to flee, but the Romans were everywhere, killing or making prisoners only to slay them in turn as yet more enemy warriors came their way. Gaius saw agleam of white nearby and spotted Agricola in the middle of the battle with only two tribunes and a couple of legionaries to guard him. He turned his mount that way.\n\nAshe neared them, one of the tribunes shouted. Three Britons, their finery soaked in blood and armed only with knives and stones, were charging. Gaius kicked the pony hard. He swung and his blade tore a crimson gash through the chest of the first man. Then his horse stumbled on something soft; Gaius felt himself falling, released his shield and wrenched himself free as the animal went down. He saw a knife flash and felt pain sear his thigh; the horse tried to struggle to its feet and the knife flared again, sinking into its neck; the animal jerked and went back down." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Gaius got upon one elbow, sank his own dagger into the Briton's chest and then used it to cut the throat of the dying horse." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then, grimacing as his thigh began to throb, he started to getup, searching around for his shield and sword.\n\n\"You all right, lad?\" Agricola was looking down at him.\n\n\"Yes, sir!\" he started to salute, realized that the dagger was still in his hand, and sheathed it again.\n\n\"Fall in, then,\" said the General, \"we still have work to do.\"\n\n\"Yes-\" Gaius began, but Agricola was already turning away to give someone else an order. One of the tribunes helped him to his feet, and he tried to catch his breath.\n\nBlood had dyed the bracken at his feet a deeper crimson. The field seemed amass of broken men and weapons, and those enemies left alive were scattering, pursued by the cavalry. The Romans on foot followed more slowly as the Caledonians fled towards the forest on the other side of the mountain. Agricola ordered some of the men to dismount and beat through the wood while the others circled round behind it.\n\nIt was at the edge of the wood as dusk was falling that Gaius whirled to face a man who sprang out at them. He swung instinctively, but he was tired and the blade turned in his hand, taking the warrior on the side of the head and bearing him to the ground. He drew his dagger and bent over the man to finish him, and swore as a bloody hand seized his arm. He lost his balance and came down on top of his enemy; the two of them rolled over and over, fighting for possession of the blade.\n\nGaius's arm began to shake as muscles that had never quite recovered from the old wound where the boar stake had gone into his shoulder began to give way. Panic tapped his last reserves of energy, and his fingers closed on the other man's throat. Fora moment they heaved, the dagger digging uselessly into his armor. Then all the fight went out of the other man and he lay still." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Shaking, Gaius pulled himself upright and plucked the weapon from his enemy's nerveless fingers. He bent over to finish the job he had begun and found himself staring into Cynric's dazed eyes.\n\n\"Don't move!\" he said in British, and the other stilled. Gaius looked quickly around him. \"I can save you-they're beginning to take hostages. Will you surrender tome now?\"\n\n\"Roman.\" Cynric spat, but weakly. \"I should have left you in the boar pit!\" It was then that Gaius realized the other man had recognized him as well. \"Better for me... and for Eilan!\"\n\n\"You have as much Roman blood as I do!\" Guilt added venom to Gaius's reply.\n\n\"Your mother sold her honor! Mine died!\"\n\nGaius found himself pushing down on the blade, and at the last moment realized that was what Cynric wanted him to do.\n\n\"You saved my life once. Now I give you yours, and Hades take your damned British pride! Surrender, and another day you can fight me.\" He knew this was foolish; even lying in his blood Cynric looked dangerous. But saving him was the only thing he could do for Eilan.\n\n\"You win...\" Cynric's head fell back in exhaustion, and Gaius saw new blood seeping from the gashes on his arms and thighs. \"... Today...\" Their eyes met, and Gaius saw the hatred still burning in his eyes. \"But one day you will pay...\" He fell silent as the wagon that was picking up the wounded creaked towards them.\n\nGaius watched two battered legionaries load him in with the others, his satisfaction in the Roman victory dissipating as he realized that he had lost his friend as surely as if he had seen Cynric die before his own eyes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With darkness Agricola called off the pursuit, not wishing to risk his men on unfamiliar ground. But for the Caledonians who survived it was not yet over. Far into the night the Romans could hear women calling as they searched the battlefield. Over the next few days returning scouts reported an ever-widening circle of devastation. The land that had once supported a thriving people was now a silent world in which the bodies of women and children killed by their own men to save them from slavery gazed blankly at the heavens, and the smoke of burned housesteads darkened the weeping sky.\n\nWhen the numbers were finally tallied it was estimated that wounds or battle had accounted for ten thousand of the enemy, while only three hundred and sixty Romans died.\n\nAs Gaius rode along the column of men marching south to winter quarters, he remembered the words of Calgacus: \"To ravage, to slaughter, to usurp under false titles they call Empire; and where they make a desert, they call it peace.\"\n\nCertainly the North was peaceful now, the last hopes for British freedom as dead as the men who had defended it. It was this, more than the fact that the despatches he carried included a very flattering description of his own conduct on the battlefield, that made Gaius realize that he must become entirely a Roman now." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Despite Agricola's hopes, the pacification of the North was not to be neatly accomplished with a single battle. And though the people of Rome danced in the streets when the triumphant account of Mons Graupius was proclaimed, a great deal remained to be done to secure the victory. The despatches that Gaius bore southward included an order for him to return as soon as his wounds were healed, for the Governor was not inclined to let so useful a young mango to waste in Londinium.\n\nOne of Gaius's assignments was to visit the compound where they were keeping the more important prisoners. Cynric was still there, scarred and embittered, but alive, and grimly triumphant that Calgacus had not been captured to grace Agricola's triumph in Rome. Indeed, no one seemed to know what had happened to the British leader. There were rumors that the Druid Bendeigid was hiding out in the hills.\n\n\"I was taken in arms, and expect no mercy,\" said Cynric in a momentary softening, \"but if your general has any regard for you, ask him to pardon the old man. I pulled you out of the boar pit, but he saved your life. For that, I think you owe him something, don't you?\"\n\nAnd Gaius had agreed. In truth, his debt was greater than Cynric knew, and since it could not be proven that Bendeigid had fought against Rome, Agricola was willing to let word be circulated through the North that the Druid could safely return home.\n\nIn the event, it was not until the Governor himself headed south to prepare for his return to Rome that Gaius was given leave to do the same. And so it was the end of winter by the time he found himself on the road to visit his father in Deva, free at last to follow the instructions Julia had given him months before to make his peace with Eilan." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Winter in the North had been black and chill, with bitter winds and nights that seemed to have no end. Even this far south the air was brisk, though the first buds were beginning to tip the branches with green, and Gaius was glad of his wolfskin cloak. In Britain even the deified Julius had sometimes worn three tunics, one above the other, against the cold.\n\nIt felt strange to ride through a country that was at peace. It seemed to Gaius that everything must have changed since last he saw it, as if he had been gone for years. But as he neared Deva, the raw wind that blew in off the estuary was the same, and the dark mountains that hung on the western horizon were the brooding shadows that had haunted him since he was a child. He rode past the mighty embankments of the fortress to the main gate, and found the timber stockade that crowned them only a little more weathered than he remembered. It was he himself that had changed.\n\nHis footsteps rang on the stone pavement of the praetorium as he strode towards his father's office. Valerius looked up as he entered, frowning fora moment until Gaius began to strip off his wrappings. Then he grinned. But it was when Macellius emerged from the inner office that Gaius realized he was not the only one to have grown older.\n\n\"Well, my boy! Is it you indeed? We had begun to fear that the Governor would take you back to Rome with him. He wrote very favorably about your workup there, lad, very favorably indeed.\" Macellius held out his arms, and clasped Gaius in a hearty embrace, cut short, as if the older man were afraid to betray himself if he held onto his son for too long.\n\nBut Gaius had felt how his father's fingers gripped him, as if he needed to reassure himself that his boy was therein the flesh, alive. He had no need to ask if Macellius had been worried; he did not think that settling the petty squabbles of men in winter quarters and tallying up stores had put the new gray in the Camp Prefect's hair." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So how long are we to have the pleasure of your company before they need you back in Londinium?\"\n\n\"I have a few weeks of leave, sir.\" Gaius forced a smile. \"I thought it was time I came home fora while.\" With a pang he realized that Macellius had not said a word about his wedding. The old man must realize that I have grownup at last!\n\nBut Macellius no longer needed to ask about it. Since the battle of Mons Graupius Gaius had somehow begun to take his marriage to Julia for granted. But now that the familiar hills of Deva were bringing back old memories he wondered. Could he really go through with it, and if he did not, what would he do?\n\nBut Gaius had found out one thing about himself in these last months: he was ambitious after all. Agricola was a great man, and he had been an excellent Governor, but who could say whom Domitian would send after him? And there were things about this land that even Agricola could never understand. The old Britannia of the tribes was dead. Its people would have to change and become Romans, but how could some Gaul or Spaniard understand them? To make this country the gem of the Empire could require the leadership of someone both British and Roman. Someone like himself, if he made the right moves now.\n\n\"... invite a few of the senior officers to join us for dinner,\" his father was saying. \"If you're not too tired?\"\n\n\"I'm fine.\" Gaius smiled. \"After the roads in Caledonia, it was a pleasure to ride here.\"\n\nMacellius nodded, and Gaius could seethe pride radiating off of him like heat from afire. He swallowed, suddenly realizing that Macellius had never before given him such unqualified approval-and how much he needed to see that glow in his father's eyes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was usual for the High Priestess to spend sometime in seclusion after the great festivals, recovering from the ritual. The women of the Forest House had become accustomed to this when Lhiannon ruled them, and no one thought it odd that after Eilan's first appearance as High Priestess her recovery should be protracted.\n\nAnd once she was up and about again, they might have been disappointed that she did not participate much in the life of their community, and so often went heavily veiled, but they were not surprised. Lhiannon was the only High Priestess that most of them had ever known, and during her last years she had kept mostly to her rooms, served by Caillean, or by her chosen attendants. In any case a period of retreat was required so that the new Oracle could commune with the gods.\n\nAnd the reclusiveness of their new High Priestess was less intriguing a topic of gossip than the disappearance of Dieda. Some were sure that she had gone voluntarily, angry because she had not been chosen High Priestess. Others suggested that she had runaway to join Cynric, whom several had seen when he visited the Forest House in the company of Bendeigid.\n\nBut when someone heard from a woodcutter that a pregnant woman was living in the hut in the forest, the solution to the mystery became appallingly obvious. Dieda must be with child; she had been sent to live in the isolation of the forest until she should be delivered of her shame.\n\nThe truth, of course, was so impossible that no one guessed it. In the event, Dieda's part in the deception was not even very taxing, for after the battle of Mons Graupius the Governor had forbidden all public assemblies lest they spark unrest. This far south they had heard only rumors of the destruction; for most folk, getting in food for the winter was a more pressing concern. At the feast of Samaine folk had to make do with the little divinations of apples and nuts and the hearthfire, for there was no fair or festival, and no Oracle." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As for Eilan, she spent the winter snug in the round hut in the forest, visited from time to time by Caillean, and attended by an old woman who did not know her name. She made a little altar to the Goddess as Mother by the fireside, and as she watched her belly ripen, she wavered between joy in the new life that was growing within her and anguish because she did not know if she would ever see her child's father again.\n\nBut it was the natural course of things that even the longest winter should one day give way to spring. Though there were times when Eilan had felt that she would be pregnant forever, the feast of Brigantia was approaching, when her child should be born. A few days before the festival Caillean appeared in the doorway, and though these days she came easily to tears or laughter, Eilan felt so glad to see her that she thought she would weep.\n\n\"There is fresh oat bread that I baked this morning,\" she said. \"Sit here and join me in my noon meal-\" She hesitated. \"Unless you feel that I contaminate you by my forsworn presence?\"\n\nCaillean laughed. \"Never,\" she replied. \"If it had not been for the snows, I would have come before.\"\n\n\"And how are things in the Forest House?\" Eilan asked. \"How does Dieda in my place? Tell me everything; I am very dull here, growing like a vegetable!\"\n\n\"Surely not.\" Caillean smiled. \"Perhaps a fruit tree come to harvest not in autumn but spring. As for Vernemeton, Dieda performs your duties faithfully, though perhaps not as well as you would do. I promise you I will come when your child is born. Send me word by the old woman when the time comes.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How will I know?\"\n\nCaillean laughed, not unkindly. \"You were present when your sister's second child was born. How much do you remember?\"\n\n\"What I remember of that time is the raiders, and how you carried fire,\" Eilan said meekly.\n\nCaillean smiled. \"Well, I think it will not belong now. Perhaps you will deliver on the Feast of the Maiden-your hands were busy this morning, and such restlessness is often seen when a child stirs in readiness to be born. And I have brought you a gift, a garland of white birch twigs, sacred to the Mother. See-I will hang it above your bed that it may bring you good fortune at Her hands.\" She rose and drew the wreath from her bag.\n\n\"The gods men follow may seem to shun you, but the Goddess cares for all Her daughters who stand where you stand now. After the festival I will come again, though it will be no pleasure seeing Dieda in your place there.\"\n\n\"How delighted I am to hear your opinion,\" someone said from the doorway, the sweetness of her voice intensifying the sting of her words. \"But if you do not like me in the role of High Priestess, surely it is a little late to be saying so!\"\n\nA figure heavily veiled in dark blue was standing there. Eilan's eyes widened and Caillean flushed angrily.\n\n\"Why have you come here?\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Dieda asked. \"Do you not think it gracious of the High Priestess to visit her fallen kinswoman? All of our dear sisters are aware that someone is living here, you know, and have concluded it is me. I will not have a shred of reputation left when I eventually \"return.\"\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Continue the tale as the writer's plot helper.\nTags: fantasy, historical fantasy, druids\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Forest House\nChapter: 26" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How will I know?\"\n\nCaillean laughed, not unkindly. \"You were present when your sister's second child was born. How much do you remember?\"\n\n\"What I remember of that time is the raiders, and how you carried fire,\" Eilan said meekly.\n\nCaillean smiled. \"Well, I think it will not belong now. Perhaps you will deliver on the Feast of the Maiden-your hands were busy this morning, and such restlessness is often seen when a child stirs in readiness to be born. And I have brought you a gift, a garland of white birch twigs, sacred to the Mother. See-I will hang it above your bed that it may bring you good fortune at Her hands.\" She rose and drew the wreath from her bag.\n\n\"The gods men follow may seem to shun you, but the Goddess cares for all Her daughters who stand where you stand now. After the festival I will come again, though it will be no pleasure seeing Dieda in your place there.\"\n\n\"How delighted I am to hear your opinion,\" someone said from the doorway, the sweetness of her voice intensifying the sting of her words. \"But if you do not like me in the role of High Priestess, surely it is a little late to be saying so!\"\n\nA figure heavily veiled in dark blue was standing there. Eilan's eyes widened and Caillean flushed angrily.\n\n\"Why have you come here?\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Dieda asked. \"Do you not think it gracious of the High Priestess to visit her fallen kinswoman? All of our dear sisters are aware that someone is living here, you know, and have concluded it is me. I will not have a shred of reputation left when I eventually \"return.\"\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Eilan's voice shook." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Did you come only to gloat over my shame, Dieda?\"\n\n\"Strangely enough, I did not.\" Dieda put back her veil. \"Eilan, in spite of all that has been between us, I wish you well. You are not the only one who is alone. I have had no word of Cynric since he went north, and he has sent no word tome. He cares for nothing but the fate of the Ravens. Perhaps when this deception is over I should go north instead of to Eriu and become one of the warrior women who serve the goddess of battles.\"\n\n\"Nonsense,\" said Caillean tartly. \"You would make a very poor warrior, but you area gifted bard.\"\n\nDieda shrugged helplessly. \"Perhaps, but I must find someway to atone for serving Ardanos's treachery.\"\n\n\"Do you truly call it so?\" asked Eilan; \"I do not. I have had time to think, living here, and it seems tome that the Lady has allowed this to happen to Her Priestess so that I may understand the need to protect all the children of this land. It is peace, not war, that I will work for when I return.\"\n\nDieda looked down at Eilan. She said slowly, \"I never had any wish fora child by Cynric or any other man. And yet I think that if I were bearing a child to Cynric, I might feel as you do.\" Her eyes were glistening with tears and she dashed them angrily away. \"I must return before busy tongues have time to spin too many tales. I came only to wish you good fortune; but it seems that even here, Caillean has forestalled me.\"\n\nShe turned, pulling her veil over her face once more, and before either of them could find words to reply, was gone." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Everyday, it seemed, the light lasted a little longer. The branches blushed with returning sap and the swans began courting in the marshes. Though winter storms might still come to lash the land, there was a sense that spring was coming. The men who worked the land took down their plowshares from the rafters, and the fishermen began to caulk their vessels, and the shepherds stayed out all night on the cold hillsides with the lambing ewes.\n\nGaius rode out, listening to the sounds of new life all around him, and counted the days. It had been Beltane when he and Eilan lay together, and since then nine moons had passed. She would be giving birth soon now. Women died in childbirth sometimes. He watched returning waterfowl unraveling across the sky and knew that whether he married Julia or not, he had to see Eilan once more.\n\nThe higher he rose among the Romans, the more he could do for Eilan and their child. If it were a son, perhaps Eilan would let him raise him. She certainly could not keep him in the Forest House. It did not seem so unlikely; his mother's people had been willing enough to give him up completely into his father's hands.\n\nAshe rode back to the fortress his thoughts went round and round. It would be hard to tell her that they could not be married, at least not yet. If Julia did not give him a son, well, he sometimes thought divorced couples were more common than married ones in the Roman world. When his position was assured perhaps they could marry; at least he could give his child a good start in the world. Would she believe that? Would she forgive him? He bit his lip, wondering what he would say to her.\n\nBut mostly his heartbeat hard simply at the thought of seeing Eilan again, even at a distance; just to know that all was well with her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Of course, there was still the problem of how he was going to get into see her." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At length he realized that he would have to trust to the gods to help him.\n\nThe Legate who commanded the Second Adiutrix Legion had retired the preceding winter and it was just at this moment that his replacement arrived Gaius knew that his father would have more than enough to do helping the new Commander settle in. When he announced he was going off fora few days' hunting, Macellius hardly had time to say farewell.\n\nIt was at the festival of the goddess the Britons called Brigantia that celebrated the end of the winter that Gaius rode once more past the Hill of the Maidens, just at that time when the young men dressed in costumes of straw and carried an image of the Lady from house to house to give Her blessing in exchange for cakes and ale. But here, he had heard, the priestess who was the Voice of the Goddess came out to proclaim the coming of spring to the people. In the wood outside the village Gaius changed into the British clothing he had brought along. Then he joined the others who were gathering to await the priestesses. From conversations overheard around him, he learned that this year the crowd was bigger than usual.\n\n\"The old Priestess died last autumn,\" one of the women told him. \"And they say that the new one is young, and very beautiful.\"\n\n\"Who is she?\" he asked, his heart beginning to beat heavily in his breast.\n\n\"The Arch-Druid's granddaughter, I am told, and some whisper there was more than chance in her choosing. But I say that the old blood is best for the old ways, and who should be better fitted for such a task than one whose fathers and mothers before her have served the gods?\"\n\nEilan! he thought. How could it be? Had she lost the child? If she was really High Priestess, how was he ever to see her again? He waited with ill-concealed impatience for nightfall, and grew silent with the others as they saw the procession of white-robed maidens emerge from the timber gate of the Forest House and come towards them down the avenue. At their head walked a slender woman with a scarlet cloak over her white gown. Beneath the thin veil he could seethe glint of golden hair. She came crowned with light and attended by harpsong. Eilan... his heart cried. Can you feel me near you, Eilan?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Out of the winter's darkness I have come-\" she said, and her voice was like music." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Too much like music, thought Gaius; Eilan's voice had been sweet to him, but it had not this resonance. He pressed closer, trying to see. This woman's voice sounded as if she were a trained singer.\n\n\"Light-bearer am I, and bearer of blessings. Now comes the springtide; new leaves shall spring soon from the branches, and the rainbow flowers. May your beasts bear in abundance; good fortune to your plowing. Take now the light, my children, and with it my favor.\"\n\nThe Priestess bent, and they lifted from her head the crown of candles. As they lowered it to the ground before her, Gaius saw her face for the first time in full light. It was the face he had dreamed of, and yet, even in a single moment of illumination, he knew it was not Eilan. He remembered, now, how beautifully Dieda had sung.\n\nHe pulled away, shaking. Had the woman got it wrong or was Eilan the victim of some dreadful deception?\n\n\"Hail to the Lady!\" the people cried. \"Hail to the Holy Bride!\" Cheering, the young men touched their torches to the candle crown and began to form the procession that would carry the light to every hut and farm. It was certainly Dieda, and she must know where Eilan was. But he could not approach her now.\n\nHe turned away and recognized another face in the crowd. At this moment, danger meant nothing.\n\n\"Caillean,\" he whispered harshly. \"I must speak to you! In the name of mercy-where is Eilan?\"\n\nIn the half-light he felt sharp eyes on him; he heard a voice speaking in a whisper, \"What are you saying?\" A hard grip closed on his hand. \"Come away from this crowd; we cannot speak here.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "He went unresisting." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It seemed to him that if death should descend on him, it would be no more than his due. But when they were beyond the crowd, he stopped in his tracks and turned to the priestess.\n\nHis voice was low and hoarse. \"Mistress Caillean, I know how Eilan loved you. In the name of any god you cherish, tell me-where is she now?\"\n\nCaillean pointed to the dais where the white-veiled woman presided over the festivities.\n\n\"Cry out and betray me if you will, but do not lie tome.\" Gaius stared into her eyes. \"Though every man here should swear that is Eilan, I know better. Tell me if she is alive and well!\"\n\nCaillean stared back at him with widening eyes in which he read amazement, anger, and fear. Then she let out her breath in an explosive sigh and pulled him after her, further away from the circle of torchlight where Dieda was lifting her hands to bless the crowd. Ashe followed Caillean into the shadows, Gaius told himself that the catch in his throat was only from the smoke of the fires.\n\n\"I should tell them who you are and let them kill you,\" she said finally. \"But I, too, love Eilan, and she has had enough pain.\"\n\n\"Is she alive?\" Gaius's voice cracked.\n\n\"No thanks to you,\" Caillean retorted. \"Ardanos would have put her to death when he heard what you had done! But he was persuaded to spare her, and she told me everything. Why did you never come for her? Is it true that you have married someone else as we were told?\"\n\n\"My father sent me away-\"\n\n\"To Londinium,\" she confirmed. \"Then it was one of the Arch-Druids's lies that you had been married off to some Roman girl?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Not yet,\" he said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But I have been on service and was not free to come. If Eilan was not punished, why do I not see her here?\"\n\nCaillean looked at him with contempt; and Gaius felt it withering him. At last she said, \"Would you expect her to be out here dancing when she has just given birth to your son?\"\n\nGaius's breath caught. \"Is she alive? Is the child?\" It was dark here, away from the fires, but it seemed to him that Caillean's stern expression softened.\n\n\"She is alive, but weak, for the birth was hard; I have been very frightened for her. You do not seem tome worth dying for, but seeing you might be the medicine she needs. The gods know I am no judge. I care nothing what Ardanos might say. Come with me.\"\n\nCaillean was only a dark shadow in the night as she led him around the crowd and back along the road, away from the Forest House and the Hill of Maidens. When they could no longer seethe light of the fires, Gaius asked, \"Where are you taking me?\"\n\n\"Eilan is not in the Forest House now; she has dwelt in a little house in the deepest part of the woods since the child began to show.\" After a moment Caillean added hesitantly, \"I have been very troubled for her. Women are sometimes very sorrowful after they have had a child, and the gods know that Eilan has enough reason to be unhappy; perhaps when she sees that you have not abandoned her, she will recover more quickly.\"\n\n\"They told me that if I did not attempt to see her, she would not be mistreated-\" he protested.\n\nCaillean laughed, a brief bitter sound. \"Ardanos was furious, of course, the wretched old tyrant. He is convinced that only if you Romans think of our priestesses as Vestals will you protect them. But the choice of the Goddess had fallen on Eilan, and he could not deny it, when Lhiannon with almost her dying breath had proposed this deception.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Caillean did not speak again. After a time Gaius saw through the trees a small glimmer of light against a greater darkness.\n\n\"There is the house.\"\n\nCaillean's voice came soft in his ear. \"Wait in the shadows while I get rid of the old woman.\" She opened the door.\n\n\"The blessing of the Lady to you, Eilan; I've come to keep you company. Annis, I'll care for her now. Why don't you go out and enjoy the festival?\"\n\nPresently he saw the old woman emerging, well-swaddled in shawls, and as she passed down the pathway he drew back beneath the trees. Caillean stood in the open doorway behind her, framed by the light. She gestured, and as he came forward, heart thumping like a charge of cavalry, said quietly into the golden glow behind her, \"I have brought you a visitor, Eilan.\" He heard her going out to keep watch behind him.\n\nFora moment Gaius's eyes were dazzled by the light. When he could focus again, he saw Eilan lying on a narrow bed, at her side the bundle that he knew must be the child.\n\nEilan forced her eyes to open. She supposed it was kind of Caillean to come to her, but why should she bring a visitor? She did not want to see anyone except Caillean, but she had been sure the older priestess would be busy with the festival. A dull curiosity stirring within her, she opened her eyes.\n\nA man's shape was standing between her and the light. Her grip on the child tightened in instinctive alarm and the baby made a little squeaking sound of protest. At that, the man took a quickstep forward, and as the light fell full upon his face, she knew him at last." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Gaius!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "she exclaimed, and at once burst into tears. She saw him redden, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, unable to meet her eyes.\n\n\"I was sent to Londinium; I had no choice,\" he said. \"I wanted to come to you.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry-\" she said, though she was not really sure why she was apologizing, \"I seem to weep very easily these days.\"\n\nHis gaze flicked swiftly to her, and then to the bundle.\n\n\"Is this my son?\"\n\n\"No other,\" she said, \"or do you really think perhaps that because\"-suddenly she was crying so hard she could hardly speak-\"that because I gave myself to you, I would lie down for any other man who came along?\"\n\n\"Eilan!\" From his face, she could see that the thought had never occurred to him, and did not know whether to be flattered or indignant. His hands clenched and unclenched. \"Please! Let me hold my son.\"\n\nEilan felt her tears ceasing as abruptly as they had come. She looked up at Gaius, for the first time really seeing him as he knelt beside her, and lifted the baby into his arms. He looked older and grimmer, fine drawn by hardship and with a shadow in his eyes as if he too had known pain; on his cheek was anew scar. But as he held the child she saw his face begin to change.\n\n\"My son-\" he whispered, gazing at the crumpled features, \"my first-born son...\" Even if he went through with his marriage to the Roman girl, thought Eilan, this moment washers.\n\nAs the baby's pale blue, wandering eyes met those of his father and seemed to fix on him, Gaius's arms tightened protectively around him. All the hardness had gone from his features now; his focus was entirely on the baby, as if he would do anything to safeguard this child who lay so trusting and helpless in his arms. It came to Eilan that even when Gaius had been making love to her she had never seen him look so radiant. She recognized the Father-face of the God." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What sort of world will this be for you, little one?\" Gaius whispered, his voice cracking. \"How can I protect you, give you a home that will be secure?\" Fora long moment he and the child seemed lost in mutual contemplation; then the baby burped suddenly and began to chew on his thumb.\n\nGaius's gaze returned to Eilan, and as he set the child once more within the curve of her arm she realized that, wan and exhausted though she might be, to him she was the Goddess as well.\n\n\"So, how do you like him, my dear?\" she said gently. \"I have called him Gawen, the name that your mother gave you.\"\n\n\"I think he is beautiful, Eilan.\" His voice was shaking. \"How can I ever thank you for this great gift?\"\n\nRunaway with me! her heart cried. Carry us both away to some land where we can all live together and be free! But the lamplight glinted balefully on the signet ring he wore, and she knew that there was no such country, beyond the reach of Rome.\n\n\"Make a world that will be safe for him.\" She echoed his own words. She remembered her vision; in this child the blood of the Dragon and the Eagle had mingled with the old line of the Wise; the saviors of Britannia would come from his line. But for that to happen he must live to be a man.\n\n\"Sometimes I wonder if that is possible.\" His gaze went inward, and she saw the grim shadow once more in his eyes.\n\n\"You have been in battle since I saw you,\" she said gently. \"You did not get that scar in Londinium... Tell me.\"\n\n\"Have you heard about the battle of Mons Graupius?\" Gaius's voice grew harsher. \"Well, I was there.\" As the story poured out of him in a succession of images, she flinched, feeling the horror, and the pity, and the fear." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I knew that something had happened,\" she said in a low voice when he was done." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There was a night, a moon after Lughnasad, when I felt that you were in great danger. I spent the following day in terror, but the feeling passed off after nightfall. I thought then that perhaps you had been fighting, but though I could sense nothing more I was certain that you had survived! You are part of me, my beloved. Surely if you had died, I would know!\"\n\nGaius reached out blindly and took her hand. \"It is true. I dreamed I was in your arms. No other woman will ever live in my heart as you do, Eilan. No other woman can give me my first-born son! But-\" His voice cracked. \"I cannot acknowledge him. I cannot marry you!\"\n\nHis face working, he looked down at the child. \"When I could not find out what had happened to you, I kept telling myself that we should have fled together when we had the chance. I could have endured a life on the run if we were together-but what kind of a life would that have been for you, and what kind of life for him?\" He reached out and touched the baby's cheek.\n\n\"He is so little, so soft,\" he said wonderingly. \"If anything tried to harm him, right now I think I could kill it with my bare hands!\" Gaius's gaze flicked from the child to Eilan and he grew red, as if embarrassed by his own emotion.\n\n\"You said to make the world safe for him,\" he went on in a low voice. \"As things are now, I can think of only one way to do that. But you will need as much courage as some ancient Roman matron of the Republic.\" At the moment neither thought it odd that despite their great Emperors, Romans always invoked the days of the Republic whenever they wished to call great virtue to mind." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You are trying to tell me that you are going to marry your Roman girl,\" Eilan said harshly. She was crying once more.\n\n\"I have to!\" he exclaimed. \"Don't you see? Mons Graupius was the last stand of the tribes. The only hope of mercy for your people now is in rulers who are both Roman and British, like me, but my only hope of gaining power in the Roman world is through alliance to an important family. Don't cry,\" he begged raggedly. \"I have never been able to endure your tears, my little one. Think of him.\" He gestured toward the sleeping baby. \"For his sake, surely we can bear whatever we must.\"\n\nYou will not have to bear what I do, she struggled against her tears, what I have already borne!\n\n\"You won't be alone forever, I promise you that,\" he said. \"I'll claim you as soon as I can. And,\" he added disingenuously, \"surely you know that among our people a marriage is not indissoluble.\"\n\n\"Yes, I have heard that,\" Eilan said acidly, sure that if he was marrying into a noble family, that the union would be as tight as the girl's kinfolk could make it. \"But what is she like, this Roman girl? Is she beautiful?\"\n\nHe looked at her ruefully. \"She has not half your beauty, my precious. She is a little thing,\" he added, \"but very determined. There are times when it seems that I have been thrown unarmed into the arena to face a war-elephant, or a savage wild animal unarmed, as I have heard is done with criminals in Rome.\"\n\nThen she will never let goof him, thought Eilan, but she managed a smile. \"Then you do not... really care about her?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Darling,\" he said, kneeling at her side, and the relief in his voice made her want to laugh, \"if it were not that her father is the Procurator, I give you my word, I would never have looked twice at her. With his help I can become a senator, even a Governor of Britain one day. Think of all I could do for you and the baby then!\"\n\nGaius bent over the child and once more that fierce protectiveness flickered in his eyes. Then, sensing that Eilan was watching him, he looked up again.\n\nEilan continued to stare until she saw him becoming uneasy again. Caillean was right, she thought with bitter resignation. He has fallen in love with a delusion and persuaded himself it is reality-like every other man! Well, that should make it easier to tell him what she had to say.\n\n\"Gaius, you know that I love you,\" she began, \"but you must believe that even if you were free to offer me marriage I could not accept you.\" She sighed, seeing confusion flicker in his eyes.\n\n\"I am High Priestess of Vernemeton, the Voice of the Goddess, did not they tell you? What you hope to be among the Romans, Gaius, among my people I already am! I risked my life to prove myself worthy, and the ordeal was every bit as dangerous as your battle. I can no more give up that victory than you can throwaway the honor you have won!\"\n\nHe frowned, trying to accept it, and Eilan realized that they were really far more alike than he knew. But it seemed to her that he was prompted by ambition, while she-if that were not also a delusion-was obeying the will of the gods.\n\n\"Then, though no one else knows it, we will work together,\" said Gaius finally, his gaze returning to the child. \"And with a Governor and a High Priestess for parents, what might this little one not do? Who knows; perhaps he will be Emperor himself someday.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At that, the baby opened his eyes, considering them both impartially with his vague gaze. Gaius picked him up again, cradling him awkwardly. \"Be still now, Lord of the World,\" he whispered as the baby squirmed, \"and let me hold you.\"\n\nAt that thought-that anything so small and pink could ever grow up to be Emperor-his parents laughed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius returned to Londinium in a kind of bittersweet daze. He had found Eilan, and lost her. He had been forced to leave the child she had borne him, and yet, he had a son! At times, as the capital and Julia drew nearer, he wanted to turn his horse and gallop back to Eilan, but he could find noway they could stay together as a family. And he remembered how stern her face had grown when Eilan told him what being High Priestess meant to her. Fora few moments she had not looked like his Eilan at all. It chilled him to think of the risk she had run to prove herself worthy, and how she had risked his son!\n\nAnd yet she had wept when they parted. So, to be truthful, had he. If Eilan thought he got any pleasure from the thought of being married to Julia Licinia, she was very much mistaken. Ashe breasted the last hill and saw the tile roofs of the city basking in the afternoon sun, he reminded himself that he was only doing this for her sake and for the sake of their child.\n\nIt was twilight by the time he reached the house of Licinius. The Procurator had not yet returned from the tabularium, but Gaius found Julia in the women's atrium. Her eyes lit up at the sight of him, making her prettier than he had ever seen her. Not, of course, as pretty as Eilan; but then no one could be as beautiful as Eilan had become. Still, Julia might become very handsome in time.\n\nShe greeted him demurely. \"So you are back from the West Country, Gaius.\"\n\n\"As I stand before you, what would you say if I told you I was still in the North?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She giggled. \"Well, I have heard that the spirits of the slain sometimes appear to those they leave behind.\" Suddenly she was frightened, and the mirth went out of her voice. \"Gaius, tell me you are only teasing me and that I truly see you here, alive and well!\" Abruptly he realized how young she was.\n\n\"I am flesh and blood,\" he said wearily. But since he had been here last he had seen death and dealt it; he had seen his future in the eyes of a newborn child. Before, he had been a boy. He was a man now, and had learned to think like one. No wonder if Julia was confused by the change.\n\nJulia came forward and touched his arm. \"Yes-you are alive,\" she said, more steadily. \"And you have seen your British girl?\" She gazed up at him.\n\n\"I have seen her-\" he began, searching fora way to tell her what had happened. Julia had aright to know what kind of a husband she would begetting if she married him.\n\nBut before he could get the words out, he heard Licinius's halting step on the mosaic floor and the moment was lost.\n\n\"So you're back, my dear fellow.\" Licinius seemed genuinely glad to see him. \"I suppose this means we shall soon behaving a wedding here.\"\n\n\"I hope so, sir,\" Gaius said, and hoped they thought his hesitation had been modesty. Perhaps it was just as well, for if Julia had refused to marry him, what hope had he of fulfilling his promises to protect Eilan and their child?\n\nJulia smiled radiantly. Perhaps being married to her would have its compensations. She caught his glance and blushed.\n\n\"Come and see my wedding veil,\" she said invitingly. \"I have been working on the embroidery for months. It's all right to show it to Gaius now, isn't it, Father?\" she asked." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes, my dear, of course, but I still think you should have been content with a linen veil. That was good enough fora Roman woman in the days of the Republic, and it should have been good enough for you,\" Licinius grumbled.\n\n\"And look at what became of your Republic,\" Julia said impertinently. \"I wanted the most fashionable veil that could be had-and I think you did too!\"\n\nThe veil was indeed beautiful, of sheer, flame-colored silk, which Julia was embroidering in gold thread with fruit and flowers.\n\nWhen she had left them, Licinius took Gaius quietly aside.\n\n\"I have set the date for the formal betrothal at the end of this month, before the unlucky days at the beginning of March. Your father cannot be present, but the Legate should be able to do without him fora time by April, when my augurs have found a favorable day for the wedding. It is short notice, but I think we can be ready. Otherwise it would be the second half of June before the season was auspicious, and while you have been off winning honors among the Caledonians my daughter has had to wait an extra year to be married.\" He smiled benignly. \"If that's quite all right with you, my dear boy?\"\n\n\"Oh yes, quite-\" Gaius said faintly. And what would they all do, he wondered, if he said it was not? He wondered why Licinius bothered to consult him at all.\n\nThen Julia came back into the room, and as she reached out to him, he realized that he could not betray the trust in those dark eyes. He and Eilan had never really had a chance; at least he might be able to give some happiness to this Roman girl.\n\nA watery sunlight streamed through the door of the hut in the forest, for it had been raining earlier. Eilan moved slowly about inside. Putting on her clothes, part of her awareness turned to the small sounds the baby made in his sleep. Her strength had returned more quickly after Gaius's visit, but it still hurt to move. She had been much torn by the birth, and she was easily tired." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The baby slumbered in his basket, wrapped in an old shawl. Eilan stopped fora moment to admire him. To her, Gawen was all the more beautiful because she fancied she could see a blurred reflection of his father in the nub of his nose and the dark feathering of his brows.\n\nShe sat fora moment contemplating her child's face. Gawen... she thought, my little king! What would Macellius-supposing he should ever hear of his grandson-think of that? She wanted to pick him up but she had so much else to do, and he was sleeping peacefully. So peacefully, in fact, that she bent close to catch the small sound of his breathing. Reassured, she straightened again.\n\nOne garment at a time, with long rests between them, she managed to dress and to comb and braid her longhair. Ordinarily Annis would have helped her, but she had been sent to the village to replenish their supplies. Having preserved her secret so long, it would not do to have the old woman present when Ardanos arrived.\n\nEilan wrapped the braid around her head in a matronly style that was new to her. Perhaps she could face him with more confidence if he saw her as a grown woman instead of a frightened child.\n\nWhat did the old man want? Reason told her that he had come to order her back to the Forest House, but again and again she had to repress a chill of fear. Did he mean to send her away after all?\n\nShe thought wildly of following Gaius, if he was not yet married. Or Mairi might shelter her, unless their father forbade it. Caillean had told her that Bendeigid was back from the North, gaunt as a winter wolf and much embittered by the ruin of their cause. But so long as he lived quietly at his elder daughter's steading, the Romans were unlikely to bother him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Once Eilan got her strength back she could care for herself and her child by hiring out to some farm. A healthy boy could always earn his keep. It might be wiser, though, not to say who his father was. She herself was skilled in all manner of household work, spinning and weaving, milking and churning; if she had to support herself and her son, she certainly could. She sighed and sat back on the bed, knowing that these were only fantasies.\n\nShe had heard that the Roman Vestals could leave the temple when they reached the age of thirty, but here the only release fora High Priestess was the funeral fire. She remembered that Ardanos's first reaction to her pregnancy had been to sentence her and her unborn child to death, and there was Bendeigid's threat to strangle her with his own hands. But surely, if they meant to kill her, they could already have easily done it.\n\nBy the time the Arch-Druid's shadow fell across the doorway she had worked herself into a state of numb apprehension.\n\n\"I am glad to see you are better,\" he said neutrally, looking down at her.\n\n\"Oh yes, I am feeling quite well, Grandsire.\"\n\nHe scowled. \"Indeed I am your grandsire, and you will do well to remember it!\"\n\nHe strode to the basket, looked down at the child fora moment, then lifted it in his arms. \"But you have made your bed, and now we must all lie in it. This masquerade has gone on long enough. Three days should be enough for your milk to dry off, and then you will return to the Forest House to prepare for the spring rituals. As for your son, he will be fostered elsewhere.\" He turned and started towards the door." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Stop!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan cried out. \"Where are you taking him?\" She felt anguish swelling in her throat and remembered how their hound bitch had howled when Bendeigid took her puppies out to be drowned because she had mismated with a neighbor's terrier.\n\nHe regarded her unblinkingly. \"Believe me, it is better that you do not know. I pledge you that he will be perfectly well and safe. Perhaps, if you do everything you are told, we may let you see him from time to time.\"\n\nEilan wondered why she had never noticed before how cruel Ardanos looked when he smiled, and how very long and sharp his teeth were. \"You cannot,\" she cried. \"I will care for him. You must not take him from me. Oh, please, I beg you-\"\n\nArdanos's bushy brows met. \"Why such surprise?\" he asked with edged control. \"Did you suppose you could nurse your child before all the priestesses in the House of Maidens? Be reasonable.\"\n\n\"Give him tome,\" she cried. \"You cannot have him.\" She snatched at the wrapped bundle in her grandfather's arms, and the baby, waking, began to scream.\n\n\"You little fool, let him go.\"\n\nEilan's legs would no longer uphold her, but she clung to his knees. \"I beg you, I beg you, Grandfather! You cannot,\" she was babbling, \"you cannot take my son from me...\"\n\n\"I must, and I will,\" Ardanos said fiercely, thrust outward with his knee and wrenched his robe free. As she collapsed he carried the wailing infant out through the open door.\n\nAnd then there was only the dappling of sunlight, as innocently mocking as a baby's smile." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Is this your revenge, you monster?\" Caillean banged the door shut behind her and stormed into the room, too angry to appreciate the fact that in his quarters in the Roman town, the Arch-Druid had a door to slam. By Roman standards the house would have seemed plain and small; its straight, plastered walls and sharp corners seemed unfriendly to British eyes.\n\nArdanos looked up from his meal, agape, and she marshaled the words stored up during her ride from Vernemeton.\n\n\"You wicked, cruel old man! I promised Lhiannon before she died to help you. But that does not make me your slave or your torturer!\"\n\nHe opened his mouth to speak but she raged on. \"How could you treat Eilan-your own daughter's child-that way? I tell you I will be no part of this; let her keep her child or\"-she drew breath-\"or I will appeal directly to the people and let the Goddess judge between us.\"\n\n\"You would not-\" Ardanos began.\n\n\"Try me!\" Caillean retorted implacably. \"I assume that you have some use for her or you would not have let her survive,\" she continued more moderately. \"Well, I tell you, unless Eilan is allowed to have her child with her she will die.\"\n\n\"I suppose it is not surprising that the girl should be such a fool, but I did not expect it of you,\" he said when she let him get a word in at last. \"Stop exaggerating. Women do not die so easily.\"\n\n\"Do they not? Eilan was bleeding again when I found her. You almost lost her, old man, and then where would all your plans be? Do you truly believe Dieda would be as pliant to your will?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"In the Goddess's name, what do you want of me, woman?\"\n\n\"Don't dare to speak of the Goddess; you have shown me over and over that you know less than nothing of Her,\" Caillean said angrily. \" For the sake of Lhiannon who-the gods know why-loved you and believed in your plans, I have helped you so far.\n\n\"But you cannot intimidate meas you did Lhiannon, nor frighten me; I have too little to lose. I would be willing to go to the priests and let them judge between us. Treating with the Romans and interfering with Oracles is a nasty business, or at least they would think it so, not understanding\"-she stopped to sneer-\"your high purpose.\"\n\n\"Why are you doing this? Eilan is no kin of yours.\" Ardanos was gazing at her as if he really did not understand.\n\nCaillean sighed. She had loved Lhiannon as a mother, but she was coming to realize that Eilan was like a sister, or like the daughter she had never had-and never would, now that her moonblood had ceased to flow. Barren as she was, and in away that would have been impossible when she was younger, she understood Eilan's passionate need to keep her child.\n\n\"It should be enough to know that you really cannot stop me. I suggest that you believe that, Ardanos, for you have more to lose than I. Do you think the other priests of your Order would not inquire why this child should live at all? You have a holdover Eilan while she knows you can take her child; you have-thanks be to all the gods at once-none over me.\"\n\nThe Arch-Druid looked thoughtful, but even as she began to hope that she was convincing him, Caillean realized that what she had said was not strictly true. Ardanos threatened her by threatening Eilan." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Bring the baby back, Ardanos.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Caillean, who in her years with Lhiannon had learned all about compromise, softened her voice. \"Even if Eilan has the child with her, they are still in your power. Do you think it is a small thing to have the Priestess of the Oracles in the hollow of your hand?\"\n\n\"Perhaps I did act a little hastily-\" he said finally. \"But what I told the girl was true. If she flaunts her son at the Forest House we might as well proclaim her shame to the world. How do you suggest we maintain the deception if I let her keep him there?\"\n\nCaillean's shoulders slumped as she realized that she had won. \"I have thought of away-\"\n\nThe day appointed for Gaius's wedding dawned clear and bright. Gaius woke when the spring sun shone in through his window, and blinked as it glowed blindingly on the whiteness of the toga draped across the chair. In the past year he had been required to wear the garment at the social and diplomatic occasions at which he had accompanied his prospective father-in-law and had become a little more used to handling its draperies, but he still found it awkward. Agricola boasted that he had taught the sons of British chieftains to wear the toga, but Gaius wondered. He had been brought up as a Roman, but he was still more comfortable in uniform or in the tunic and trews of the tribes.\n\nHe sat up, surveying the garment in dismay. His father, who had come in from Deva the day before and was sleeping in the same room, turned over and lifted one eyebrow.\n\n\"I do think they could invent a better ceremonial garment,\" Gaius grumbled, \"or at least something more convenient.\"\n\n\"A toga is more than a garment,\" said Macellius. \"It is a symbol.\" He sat up and to the amazement of his son, who was never at his best the first thing in the morning, began to discourse on the toga's honorable history." }, { "from": "human", "value": "But presently Gaius started to understand." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Even, or perhaps especially, here at the far end of the Empire, the right to wear the white toga of a citizen was away of distinguishing between the masters of the world and those they had conquered, and the narrow purple stripe of the eques that marked his tunic an honor dearly won. And that was very important to men like his father. Compared to that, the comfort of the garment was irrelevant.\n\nMuch as he would have liked to toss the offending piece of cloth out of the window, it was just one of the things he had to accept when he threw in his lot with Rome. At least the toga was woolen, and so was the tunic he would wear beneath it. Though the April wind blew chill and rainy he would not freeze.\n\nSighing, he allowed himself to be bathed and shaved by his freedman, slipped into his tunic and sandals, and then set to work trying to figure out how to drape the thing. After a few moments his father, his face gone so wooden that Gaius felt sure he was suppressing a grin, took the toga away from him. Deftly he arranged the pleats of white wool to hang down in front of the left shoulder, adjusted the drape across the back and under his son's right arm, and then drew the remainder carefully across his chest and over the left shoulder in the other direction so that the folds were draped gracefully over his arm.\n\n\"There now.\" He stepped back and surveyed his son indulgently. \"Stand up a little straighter and you could pose fora statue.\"\n\n\"I feel like one,\" Gaius mumbled, afraid to move lest the whole arrangement come undone. This time his father did laugh.\n\n\"Never mind; it's natural fora bridegroom to be nervous. You'll feel better when it's all done.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Did you?\" Gaius asked abruptly. \"When you married my mother, were you afraid?\"\n\nMacellius stilled, and fora moment his eyes clouded with remembered pain. \"I felt joy when she came tome and everyday of our lives together until she was gone...\" he whispered.\n\nAs I did when Eilan lay in my arms... Gaius thought bitterly. But I have consented to this mummery, and have no choice but to go through with it now.\n\nThe sight of the haruspex who had been called into take the auspices for the marriage did nothing to improve his mood. In the noon sunlight the man's bald redhead and long skinny legs made him look like one of his own chickens and Gaius was cynically certain that whatever spots he found on the entrails of the unfortunate fowl would indicate it was an auspicious day. With most of the dignitaries of Londinium standing about it would be exceedingly inconvenient to cancel the festivities. In any case, the augurs had already been consulted weeks ago to select the proper day.\n\nThe atrium, its pillars twined with greenery, was crowded with what seemed to bean appalling number of people; he recognized a couple of wrinkled prune-faced elderly dowagers whom he had met in Licinius's house several times over the last few months. He noticed that they really smiled, if not actually at him, at least somewhere in his direction. Maybe they were happy for Julia; if they only knew how mixed a bargain she was getting they would frown!\n\nIn due course the sacrificer declared it a very good day fora wedding and offered congratulations. No day on which Julia had decided to be married would dare to be unfavorable.\n\nThere was a little murmur as the sacrifice was cleared away and the bride entered on her father's arm. Gaius could see little but the hem of her white tunic beneath the crimson flamma, the famous veil. One of Licinius's secretaries unrolled the marriage contract and began to read in a nasal drone. Most of it had been completed at the ceremony of betrothal: the amount of the coemptio which Gaius was offering, and the sum which Julia would bring to the marriage, the fact that she was to remain'in the hand\" of her father as a legal part of his family, and would retain her own property. It had been explained to him that these days that arrangement was more usual, and no one would think the less of him. There was a provision that he could not divorce Julia except for'grievous misconduct,\" which must be attested by at least two noble matrons. Gaius would have laughed if anything now could have made him laugh; anyone less likely to misbehave than the dignified Julia, he simply could not imagine, and she had made it too clear that she wanted this marriage to jeopardize it. Even her sober demeanor today could not hide the triumph in her eyes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Gaius Macellius Severus Siluricus, do you agree to the terms of this contract, and are you willing to take this woman as your wife according to the law?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "his father asked then. Gaius realized that they were all looking at him, but still it seemed an endless time before he could say the words.\n\n\"I am willing-\"\n\n\"Julia Licinia?\" Her father turned to the girl and repeated the question. Her agreement came a good deal more swiftly. The secretary presented the document to each of them for signing and then carried it away to be registered in the archives.\n\nGaius felt as if his freedom were going with it, but the Roman gravity that went with the toga did not require him to smile. A sweet-faced lady, identified as the daughter of Agricola, came forward, took Julia's hand and led her to Gaius. He felt a pang of guilt as her small fingers tightened on his.\n\nThere were prayers then, a great many it seemed, invoking Juno and Jupiter, Vesta and every other deity who might be assumed to be concerned with the preservation of hearth and home. He and Julia were given a bowl of grain and a flagon of oil to offer to the fire on the altar. As it crackled in the flames the scent of cooked food came suddenly from the dining hall off the atrium, mingling in a rather sickening fashion with the incense that had been burned. The feast was almost ready. Julia put back her veil. He took the cake of rough spelt wheat-he hoped they would have something better to eat at the feast to follow-broke it and thrust a morsel between Julia's lips. She repeated the gesture, saying the appointed words that made them legally one. The ritual had acquired its own momentum, and from now on he had only to go through the motions.\n\nHe sat through the wedding feast in the dining chamber, as lavish as Licinius's purse and Julia's pride could make it, in a kind of daze. He was aware that the tables were laden with an amazing variety of things. People spoke to him; he accepted congratulations from an elderly friend of Licinius and agreed that yes, he was indeed lucky to begetting a splendid girl. The old senator lingered, insisting on telling him anecdotes of Julia as a toddler; he had known her all her life. Somewhere nearby two of the magistrates were discussing in low tones the Emperor's upcoming German campaign." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Slaves, murmuring congratulations, served them, not the meat of the sacrifices, but tender roast chickens, roast pork and delicate cakes of fine wheat bread. And there was a liberal amount of wine, which Gaius, drinking everything he was given, soon decided was better than he had thought. An almost endless stream of guests kept coming and offering him congratulations; he had seldom seen Macellius look so happy.\n\nAs the feasting continued, Gaius drew on all his reserves of courtesy and self-control, while at the back of his mind wondering what Eilan would think of all this nonsense, whether she would ever know or appreciate what he was doing for her and for their son.\n\nJulia giggled at the rude jokes of the mountebanks who entertained them, but he was not sure whether she really understood them. This part of the ceremony was traditionally to encourage the begetting of children; the clowns seemed very eager to make sure nobody could possibly miss the point. The sight of food was beginning to revolt him, but he continued to make a pretense of eating, and agreed for the ninetieth time that Julia was a lovely girl and he a very lucky man.\n\nJulia was beginning to look sleepy; she had accepted a second and then a third glass of the wine, and since it was considerably stronger than what Licinius served at his everyday table, her normal vivacity was muted. Gaius envied her condition; he was still, unfortunately, quite conscious.\n\nIt was growing dark. From outside he heard shouting, and grinned foolishly when the Master of Ceremonies announced that the moment for the bridal procession had arrived. It was all quite ridiculous really, for since Macellius had no house in the town, the new couple was only moving to the far wing of Licinius's mansion, but Julia was apparently determined not to miss a single tradition on her big day." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was just as well that he was not really expected to carry off his bride, thought Gaius as he gripped Julia by the wrist with simulated roughness and pulled her after him. In his current state of unsteadiness he could have been held off by an old woman and a lame dog.\n\nThe Master of Ceremonies handed him a bag full of gilded walnuts and small copper coins; he indicated that Gaius should scatter them to the beggars outside who frequented weddings just for this. Julia had a similar bag which matched her crimson veil. The litter bearers ceremoniously carried them out of Licinius's house, down the avenue to the forum, past the new Governor's palace and the tabularium, preceded by flute players and singers and surrounded by torches, and finally circled back to the entrance of the new apartment that had been made ready for them. Gaius suppressed a desire to giggle. He scattered coins and heard the blessings of the crowd. Only a little further now...\n\nThe whitethorn torch sent a flickering light through the doorway, banishing shadows and evil magic. Gaius, whose head had been somewhat cleared by the chill air, wished it could banish memory. Someone handed Julia a bowl of oil with which to anoint the doorposts and the strands of white wool with which to adorn them.\n\nThe elderly dowagers kissed Julia, murmuring wishes for her happiness, and after a moment's thought kissed Gaius too; this touched off a regular storm of embraces, kisses and congratulations. Macellius, a bit drunk-the first time Gaius had ever seen his father affected even a little by wine-embraced them both; Licinius kissed Julia and Gaius, and said it had been a splendid wedding.\n\nThen Gaius lifted her, marveling once more at how light she was in his arms, carried her over the threshold, and kicked the door shut behind him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He could smell fresh paint on the walls, competing with the incense and the scent of Julia's flowers. She stood still before him, and with more tenderness than he had thought he could muster he lifted the flamma away.\n\nHer wreath was wilting; the six locks of hair that her maid had so carefully curled unraveling around the neck of her gown. She looked far too young to be married. Before he could speak she led the way to the altar in the center of their own atrium, and stood waiting expectantly.\n\nHe pulled the end of his toga up to cover his head and saluted the little terra-cotta statues that represented the family gods.\n\n\"By fire and water I welcome you as my wife and priestess of my home-\" he said hoarsely. He poured water across her hands and held the towel for her to dry them, then handed her the taper from which to light the fire.\n\n\"May the gods bless us at bed and at board, and grant that I bear you many sons,\" she answered him.\n\nThe bridal bed had been made up against the wall. He led her towards it and fumbled to undo the peculiar knot with which her woolen girdle was tied, wondering how many eager grooms had lost patience and simply cut the thing loose. At least now he could unwind himself from the swaddling folds of his toga.\n\nJulia lay in the big bed with the covers drawn up to her chin, watching him. In the morning the bloody sheets would be ceremoniously presented to the dowagers as evidence of consummation; but Gaius would not even have to be present. And in any case he did not doubt that Julia-always practical-had provided herself with a little bag of chicken blood in case he should be too drunk to perform. Almost every bride had sense enough for that, he had been told." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But he was not that drunk, and if he did his duty with more efficiency than passion, at least he was gentle, and Julia was too innocent to expect more." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan did not return to Vernemeton until March, for despite Caillean's promise to bring her son back to her, it took sometime to recover from the shock of losing him. Once she had wept herself out she came to understand that even when he was restored to her it would not be the same.\n\nAfter a few days her breasts ceased to ache and she knew that another woman would feed her little one now. Another woman would hold him close during the long night hours and pat the bubbles away and comfort him, would have the sweet labor of bathing the firm little body. Someone else would lean over his cradle and sing the lullabies her mother had taught her. But not Eilan. She could not-she must not-or all she had suffered to achieve was lost.\n\nIt was announced that the High Priestess was ill to cover the transition, and late one night Eilan was brought back to the Forest House and Dieda was spirited away, bound for further bardic training in Eriu as promised. By the time she returned, it was their hope that everyone would have forgotten there had ever been two maidens in Vernemeton who looked almost the same. With Cynric still a prisoner, it was clearly impossible for Dieda to go to him even if she had desired it. In the end, Dieda seemed reconciled to the prospect of learning from the bards of a land that had never been touched by Rome.\n\nOnly now, as she resumed her duties as Priestess of the Oracles, did Eilan realize how isolated she would henceforward be. Part of this was the result of the seclusion forced on Dieda as part of the deception, but it was also a result of her change in status. As washer right, Eilan honored Caillean, Eilidh, Miellyn and young Senara by choosing them as her primary attendants, but she saw little of the other priestesses except at the ceremonies." }, { "from": "human", "value": "From time to time in the past the Forest House had sheltered women or children like Senara who had need of care." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was therefore unusual, but not unheard of, to take in the young woman called Lia and the infant the Arch-Druid had brought to her to wet-nurse and install them in the roundhouse next to the herb sheds where visitors usually stayed. Nor was it even so surprising that Caillean should take the baby to the High Priestess, saying that she might be cheered by holding a young child.\n\nAfter that first joyful reunion, Eilan wept copiously; for it seemed to her that Gawen, being nursed by Lia, had somehow become almost more Lia's child than hers. Nevertheless it seemed a miracle to her that Ardanos, even under duress, had kept his word. She wondered sometimes how Caillean had persuaded him, but did not dare to ask.\n\nNaturally her partiality for the child caused gossip. But Caillean took the precaution of confiding to old Latis-in strictest confidence-that the child belonged to Eilan's sister Mairi, born of a father unknown, and had been sent here because Mairi was thinking of marrying again. \" Within a week the story was allover Vernemeton, as they had expected. But although there were some who believed the baby was Dieda's, no one appeared to suspect he was Eilan's. And with most of the women the boy soon became a pet.\n\nEilan felt guilt for the damage to the reputations of her sister and the girl who had been like a sister to her. But after all they had assented, however reluctantly. Worse was the torment of not being able to acknowledge her child. But she must not-she would not-and, as week followed week, confession became less and less possible.\n\nIt seemed to Eilan that time went by very slowly under this uneasy reprieve; Ardanos had returned from Deva, and, almost gloating, reported that Macellius's son was married to the daughter of the Procurator in Londinium. She had known this must happen, but she could hardly keep from weeping, though she resolved not to in the sight of Ardanos." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She had to believe that both she and Gaius had made the right decision, but she could not help wondering about the woman whom she could not keep from thinking of as her rival. Was she beautiful? Did he speak words of love to her, from time to time? Eilan was the mother of his first son; did that not count for something? Or was she forgotten? And if she were, how would she ever know?\n\nBut time went on-as it always does, no matter what shifts are taken to ignore its passing-and the festival of Beltane came upon her, when she must serve again as the Voice of the Oracle.\n\nEilan had thought that she had resolved her doubts when she became High Priestess. Perhaps they were returning now because of the child. In the dark hours of the night she wondered if this time she would be punished for her blasphemy, though by daylight she reasoned that if she had lived through the first time, the Goddess was unlikely to be insulted now. If the Power she had felt during her initiation was a delusion, then she had given up Gaius for nothing. But if Ardanos did not truly believe in the Goddess he served, then it was he not she, who was committing the blasphemy. If she meant to continue in this role, it was essential to learn whether it was the Arch-Druid's interpretation or the Goddess Herself that was the lie.\n\nAs Eilan was preparing and purifying herself, it occurred to her that drinking from the golden bowl would be more dramatic done in the sight of the people, and resolved to speak of this to Ardanos when she saw him again. He readily agreed to the change, as if surprised that she should have thought upon the matter at all.\n\nThis time, Eilan herself mixed the herbs she would be drinking, and made certain substitutions, retaining those that would increase vision and leaving out the ones that detached the senses from the will. As a result she was vividly aware of the vast hush that descended over the assembled gathering. She could feel their reverence and expectation. From a purely public point of view she could understand it. She knew that the people responded to her beauty as they had never responded to Lhiannon's faded charm. But there must have been a time when Lhiannon too had been young and very beautiful. Had it never been anymore than this-a drama staged by the priests of whom her grandfather was foremost? Surely the first time she satin the Oracle's chair the Power that spoke through her had been real." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan drank, and felt the familiar dip and lift of the trance state take her. Remembering how the potion had affected her before, she slumped in her chair with lids half-closed so that Ardanos would not seethe intelligence in her eyes. And this time, when the Arch-Druid began his incantation she was aware that instructions were being interspersed into the spell. It was clear what was wanted-and why.\n\nNow she understood why Ardanos wanted a Priestess of the Oracles who did not rely on inspiration. She had heard him speak before of all the benefits to Britain that would come from the civilizing influence of the Romans. In fact she remembered his saying something like this on that evening in her father's house before she knew who Gaius really was. Well, at least the Arch-Druid could not be accused of inconsistency.\n\nIn her last meeting with Gaius she had learned enough to agree that-for now-Ardanos might even have the right idea. Used wisely, the Oracle could be a powerful tool to bring peace to Britain. So long as Ardanos was Arch-Druid, and so long as his policies were indeed the path of wisdom, perhaps what they were doing was not even so great a sin. But if Eilan were to be something more than Ardanos's instrument, she would have to understand what was going on in the world outside her walls. Potentially, the High Priestess of Vernemeton could exercise an influence that went far beyond her role as Oracle. By learning what her grandfather was doing, she had also taken on the responsibility for deciding whether or not to co-operate, and how far.\n\nEilan believed that something other than her own hidden will had spoken through her before. But no single human could carry the full power of a goddess. When a divine spirit possessed a body, it not only became accessible, but took on some of that body's limitations; it had to work with the material at hand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Goddess, help me! her spirit cried. If You are there, Lady, and not just my delusion, show me how to do Your will!\n\nArdanos's invocation ended, but the expectation of the crowd around her was building. As the smoke of the sacred herbs billowed from the fires, Eilan felt a Presence building up behind her.\n\nLady, I am in Your hands. With a sigh, Eilan allowed control to slip away. She had the sensation that soft arms were holding her, but at the same time she knew that her body was sitting up, and the One whose power now flowed through it was fixing Ardanos with a radiant smile.\n\nGrandfather, she thought, be careful! Can you not see Who has come to you now? But he had turned to the people, and was leading them in the invocation, and she knew he could not see. Her awareness turned inward then. Goddess have mercy, her spirit cried. He works for the good of his people-give him the wisdom to do the right thing-for the sake of us all!\n\nAnd in the silence of the place to which she had come, it seemed to her that there was a reply.\n\n\"Daughter, I care for all My children, even when they quarrel; and for all times, not only the one you are living through. My Light maybe your darkness; and your winter the prelude to My spring. Will you accept this, that a greater good may come?\"\n\n\"I will, but do not leave me, for You are all I have,\" she answered, and once more that Voice spoke within her.\n\n\"How could I leave you-do you not know I love you as you love your child?\"\n\nThe Lady's love surrounded her. Eilan allowed herself to sink into it as into her own mother's arms. As if from a great distance, she was aware of Ardanos's questions. She remembered the answers he had told her to give, but they no longer seemed important. Knowledge came to her; she knew what she said in reply, and yet the Self who spoke those words, this time in the language of the people, was not the Eilan she knew." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan could not tell how long it went on. In that state where she rested now there was no time at all. And yet a time did come when she heard her own name called. She moaned and tried to turn away. Why should she return? But the cool air with which they were fanning her and the drops of water that splashed her face and hands could not be ignored. They drew her back into her body once more.\n\nShe shuddered and gasped, and suddenly she was herself, Eilan, once more, looking at the awed faces of the people around her with wide eyes.\n\nArdanos was instructing the people to depart in peace. There was almost a hint of smugness in the satisfaction that filled his smile.\n\nHe does not understand, Eilan thought then. He thinks he did it all... But if the Arch-Druid did not understand the power of the Goddess he said he served, it was not for her to enlighten him. She could only trust that the Lady knew Her own business, and would continue to watch over them.\n\nGaius spent the first months of his marriage fighting the awareness that it was based upon a lie. He suspected that Julia was more enamored of being married than she was of him, but she was cheerful and affectionate, and as long as he was reasonably attentive, she seemed satisfied with his companionship. He could only thank the gods for the innocence, or perhaps the lack of emotional depth, which prevented her from realizing a relationship between a man and a woman ought to be a great deal more.\n\nLicinius, who believed that a young couple should not be separated in the first year of their marriage, had arranged for Gaius to serve as an aedile in charge of government buildings in Londinium, which would give him some of the experience in public service necessary to advance his career. At first he had protested lack of background, and wondered if his father-in-law had got him the job simply so that Julia could continue to keep house for him, but he found that although his staff of slaves and freedmen could do the work, they needed the authority of a man of status to deal with the rest of the government. Presently, he realized that a childhood spent listening to his father deal with the problems of maintaining a major fortress had prepared him for his new responsibilities quite well." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Treasure the time you have with Julia now, my lad,\" Licinius would say, patting him on the shoulder, \"for you'll be parted often enough in the future, especially if you're assigned duty in Dacia or some other post on the frontier.\" They both knew that the path of promotion led allover the Empire; along-term provincial post such as Camp Prefect or Procurator was awarded only at the end of a career.\n\nThese were the crucial years, when the name a young man made for himself-and the contacts-determined how far he would rise. Soon Gaius would need to spend sometime in Rome itself; he found himself looking forward to it. Meanwhile he applied himself to understanding the workings of government in the smaller reflection of the capital that Londinium had become.\n\nMore quickly than he could have imagined, a year went by. From time to time disturbing news came from Rome. The Emperor had got himself elected to the office of Consul for the next ten years, and Censor for life in addition to the powers he already had. The patricians muttered darkly that it was a plot to gain control over the Senate, but did little more, for at the moment the army was quite happy with their Emperor, who had raised pay by one-third. As an officer Gaius could not object to that, but it was clear which way the wind was blowing. Even more than his predecessors, Domitian seemed to regard the remaining democratic institutions of Rome as outdated, and certainly inconvenient.\n\nA few months after their marriage, Licinius had engaged a tutor primarily for Julia, he said-so that she might learn to speak better Greek and more polished Latin, and Gaius, to his chagrin, was urged to share these lessons. \"For if you go to Rome, it will be necessary for you to speak good Greek, and a more aristocratic Latin,\" he pointed out." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Co-writing with the writer, continue the narrative.\nTags: fantasy, historical fantasy, druids\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Forest House\nChapter: 28" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Treasure the time you have with Julia now, my lad,\" Licinius would say, patting him on the shoulder, \"for you'll be parted often enough in the future, especially if you're assigned duty in Dacia or some other post on the frontier.\" They both knew that the path of promotion led allover the Empire; along-term provincial post such as Camp Prefect or Procurator was awarded only at the end of a career.\n\nThese were the crucial years, when the name a young man made for himself-and the contacts-determined how far he would rise. Soon Gaius would need to spend sometime in Rome itself; he found himself looking forward to it. Meanwhile he applied himself to understanding the workings of government in the smaller reflection of the capital that Londinium had become.\n\nMore quickly than he could have imagined, a year went by. From time to time disturbing news came from Rome. The Emperor had got himself elected to the office of Consul for the next ten years, and Censor for life in addition to the powers he already had. The patricians muttered darkly that it was a plot to gain control over the Senate, but did little more, for at the moment the army was quite happy with their Emperor, who had raised pay by one-third. As an officer Gaius could not object to that, but it was clear which way the wind was blowing. Even more than his predecessors, Domitian seemed to regard the remaining democratic institutions of Rome as outdated, and certainly inconvenient.\n\nA few months after their marriage, Licinius had engaged a tutor primarily for Julia, he said-so that she might learn to speak better Greek and more polished Latin, and Gaius, to his chagrin, was urged to share these lessons. \"For if you go to Rome, it will be necessary for you to speak good Greek, and a more aristocratic Latin,\" he pointed out." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Stung, Gaius had protested. From his earliest boyhood, Macellius had insisted that tutors should be engaged, and that he became as fluent in Latin as in the tribal Celtic language of his mother's kin.\n\n\"Plain Latin is good enough for me,\" he protested.\n\n\"No doubt it's good enough for an army camp,\" Julia argued, \"but believe me, it would be better to speak to the Senate in Celtic than in that vulgar dialect of Deva.\"\n\nGaius felt like protesting that his Latin was no worse than that of Macellius; but it was true that Macellius had never had to speak to the senators of Rome. And it would do him no harm to learn the language of educated men everywhere, which would always be Greek. But the lessons did not goon for long. By the end of the summer Julia was pregnant and so queasy much of the time that the tutor was dismissed.\n\nBut by this time Gaius was conversing with the Greek house slaves whenever he had the opportunity, including Charis, Julia's chambermaid, who had herself been born on Apollo's own island of Mytilene. One of the freedmen who worked for him had originally come to Britain as a secretary to a former Governor, and was glad enough to earn a few extra sesterces by correcting Gaius's accent and making him copy out the speeches of Cicero to improve his Latin style.\n\nHe was resolved that when Julia's child was born and she felt well enough to resume her lessons-if she ever did-he would have far surpassed her.\n\nAnd so the winter passed. By their first anniversary, Julia's sickness had subsided. She did not protest when her father proposed that Gaius join a hunting party for boar in the woods north of Londinium, escorting a wealthy senator with interests in the wine trade who claimed to have undertaken the hazardous journey all the way therefor the sake of the hunting. Licinius did not think a great deal of the man's skill, but admitted his political power, and flattered the man by assigning his own son-in-law to escort duty." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Julia, far from resenting his absence, was a little relieved to have him out of the house. Like most men, Gaius appeared to feel that any admission of difficulty was a plea for help. Since he could not help her, and indeed, was the cause of her condition, he was inclined to react with annoyance if she mentioned ill health or anxiety. Her father was not much better, and she had too much pride to unburden her heart to the slaves.\n\nAnd so, on the morning Gaius left to go hunting, Julia sought the temple of Juno. Her maid Charis complained about walking all the way, but ungainly as she had become, Julia was sure the jolt of a wagon or the sway of a litter would have made her queasy again.\n\nNor did she mind when the eunuch who watched the door told her she must wait until the priestess should have time for her, for the interior of the temple was dim and cool after the brightness and dust of the street outside, and she was quite content to sit therefor a time, gazing up at the painted statue.\n\nDomina Dea... she prayed, I thought it would be so easy. But the slaves gossip about women who have died in childbirth when they think I cannot hear. I'm not afraid of that, Goddess, but what if my baby should die? What if I am like my mother, who bore only one child who lived beyond a year? My father has political power and Gaius can fight battles. But the only thing that I can do is give them a legitimate heir. She pulled her veil across her face so that no one could see that she was weeping. Help me to deliver a healthy son... please, Goddess, please!\n\nShe started as the eunuch touched her shoulder, then wiped her eyes and followed him to the inner chamber, ignoring the nagging pain in her lower back." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Juno's high priestess was a woman of middle years, her face painted to look younger, whose hard eyes silently priced Julia's jewels and gown. But she greeted Julia with an effusive warmth that sparked lively caution in the girl.\n\n\"You are worried about the birthing.\" The woman patted her arm. \"And it is your first, so it is only natural that you should be afraid...\"\n\nJulia pulled back a little, eyeing her warily. Didn't the woman understand that it was not for herself that she feared?\n\n\"I want a son,\" she began, and coughed at the wave of scent as the priestess bent closer.\n\n\"Of course you do. And if you make an offering, the Goddess will help you.\"\n\n\"What kind of animal should I buy for the sacrifice?\"\n\n\"Well, dear-\" The woman looked down at herrings. \"We really have enough of that sort of thing. But they are building a lavish temple for Isis down near the wharfs, and it would be a pity if Juno should be left looking like a poor relation. Surely she will give you what you want if you offer a generous gift to her shrine.\"\n\nJulia stared at her, understanding all too well, and rose heavily to her feet. \"Indeed,\" she said dryly. \"I must go now, but I thank you for your good counsel.\"\n\nShe turned on her heel, wishing she had the height to make an impressive exit, and stalked from the room, leaving the priestess gaping behind her. As she crossed the threshold, the ache in her back became a stabbing pain that fora moment took her breath away.\n\n\"My lady-\" Charis reached out to help her.\n\n\"Go summon a chair for me,\" Julia told her, supporting herself against a pillar. \"I believe I will ride home after all.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius did not return to Londinium until late in the evening, having seen to it that the distinguished guest got the trophy he wanted, and taking leave of him with some relief. When he came in, he discovered all in chaos; for during his absence, Julia had gone into premature labor and borne him a daughter. He received the news from Licinius, who said all had been over for an hour or two, and Julia was asleep.\n\nIt was time to toast the birth of his first child, said Licinius, holding out a dusty clay flagon with a Greek seal. It was all too clear, Gaius thought, that his father-in-law had already been celebrating.\n\n\"I do not know how to thank you for this great gift,\" he said somewhat drunkenly. \"I have always wanted to be a grandfather; and if the child is only a daughter, well, I do not mind that; Julia has been as good a child tome as forty sons, and she brought you into our family. No doubt that your next child will be a boy.\"\n\n\"I certainly hope you are right,\" Gaius said. It would not be his fault if she did not, since he had begotten one son already.\n\n\"I put this wine away when Julia was born, to be drunk when my first grandchild was born,\" Licinius said, removing the seal. \"Drink with me, my son; and don't spoil it by putting too much water with it.\"\n\nGaius had had no supper and would much rather have had a cup of ale with a bowl of beans or a roast fowl, but with the household in such disarray he'd be lucky to get some cold bread and meat if he could corner one of the household slaves. He resigned himself to going to bed half drunk, and joined Licinius." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"To your daughter,\" Licinius said. \"May she be as good to you as Julia has been tome.\"\n\nGaius drank and then the old man proposed a toast to his son. Gaius blinked and sputtered, and his father-in-law elaborated, \"Surely you will have a son next year.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, of course.\"\n\nBut as Gaius lifted his goblet it was of Eilan and the son he already had that he was thinking. By now the boy would be a year old. Was he walking? Had the fuzz of dark hair turned to gold?\n\nAnd then of course they had to drink to Julia; if the serving woman had not come in at around that point to say he might see her, Gaius would have been very drunk indeed. Grateful for the interruption, he followed the woman to the bedchamber.\n\nJulia struck her husband as very small, small and pale. Tucked in her arms was the tiny swaddled form of the child.\n\nJulia looked up at him and began to cry. \"I'm so sorry. I did so want to give you a son-I was so sure...\"\n\nMade generous by the thought of Eilan's son, far to the west, he stooped and kissed her. \"Don't cry,\" he said. \"We will have a boy next time, if the gods wish it.\"\n\n\"Then you accept her?\"\n\nThe slave woman picked up the child and held it out and they all looked at him expectantly. After a moment Gaius realized what he was supposed to do and took the baby, rather awkwardly. He looked down into the crumpled features, waiting for the tide of tenderness that had overwhelmed him when he held his son. But his only emotion was amazement, for it seemed to him impossible that something so tiny could be real. He sighed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"In the name of my ancestors I claim this child as my daughter,\" Gaius said loudly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Macellia Severina shall be her name.\"\n\nJust after Beltane, Bendeigid sought audience with the Lady of Vernemeton. By this time Eilan had settled into her role as High Priestess, but it still seemed strange that her own father, a powerful Druid, should seek permission to visit her. Yet she sent an equally formal reply that she would gladly receive him, and when he appeared in her outer chamber that afternoon, she made ready to give him a cordial welcome.\n\nTruth to tell, Eilan did not feel all that cordial. She could not help but remember that it washer father's refusal even to consider her marriage to Gaius that had placed her in a position in which, while she had comfort and honor, had also made her a stranger to her own son. She made certain that Gawen was out of sight and hearing for the afternoon. Bendeigid at least would know that Mairi had not borne another child, and Gawen was getting to look more like his father.\n\nShe set out a pitcher of freshwater, newly drawn by Senara from the Sacred Well, and indicated to Huw that he could let her visitor come in. It gave her a certain pleasure to have her bodyguard looming over them. His bulk made even her father, who was a big man, seem small. She had thought that to be the recipient of such dog-like devotion would make her uncomfortable, for Huw had gratefully transferred his loyalty to her as soon as she emerged from her ritual seclusion and began to go about again, but he never intruded. He was simply there, and she gradually came to appreciate his usefulness in getting rid of visitors, or, as now, to overawe them.\n\n\"How may I serve you, my father?\" she said coolly, remaining seated. Her tone was the same as she would have used to any highly placed Druid. Indeed, his time in the North had changed him. He was still a powerful man, but the comfortable solidity she remembered had been worn away until he was all sinew and bone." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bendeigid stopped short, eyeing her oddly. What was he seeing, she wondered? Not the daughter he remembered, for certain. The face she saw when she looked into the Sacred Pool had lost its girlish roundness, and suffering and responsibility had given a certain air of watchfulness to her shadowed eyes. But perhaps those subtle signs of maturity would be less striking than her golden ornaments and the crescent between her brows.\n\nAlthough she had pushed the sheer veil of fine, dark blue linen back from her face, its folds were draped about her head and shoulders. She had continued to go veiled in the fashion Dieda had adopted to aid in the deception; and by the time it might have been safe to go without it, she had grown used to its protection. It seemed to lend an air of authority; certainly it added to her mystery.\n\n\"I only wanted to pay you my respects, daughter-or should I say, Lady,\" replied the Druid. \"It has been long since we met. I wanted to be sure that you were well...\"\n\nIt has taken you long enough, she thought grimly. But she could see that the past few years had not been easy for him either. It was not entirely Huw's bulk that made him seem smaller; his hair had gone completely gray and there were newlines around his mouth and in his brow. He had always been stern, but now purpose burned in his eyes like a dark flame.\n\nBendeigid accepted the silver-bound wooden cup she handed him and sat down on a bench. Eilan took her seat in the great carven chair.\n\n\"Surely that is not the only reason you have come here, my father,\" she said calmly.\n\n\"Lhiannon was old.\" He looked into his cup and then backup at her. \"I can well understand that she did not wish her country torn by war-and that maybe why the Goddess has counseled peace for the past few years. But now there is anew time and anew Priestess. Did you not know about the battle the Romans call Mons Graupius? Have you heard how the Votadini lands are become a desert in which a few survivors scratch fora living where once was a thriving tribe?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Eilan lowered her gaze away from his." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Indeed she had heard of the battle, from one who had fought in it, and Gaius had told her how that winter the starving survivors had come to the gates of the fortress to be fed. It was true that the Romans were the invaders, but she knew it was the defeated tribesmen who in despair had fired their own villages and slaughtered their animals to keep them out of Roman hands.\n\n\"Voice of the Goddess, tell me-the tears of captive women fall down like rain and the blood of our slain warriors shrieks from the ground, why does She not hear them? Why has the Goddess not answered our prayers, and why does the Oracle still counsel us to keep this miserable peace?\"\n\nHe surged to his feet, reaching out to her, and Huw took a heavy step into the room. Eilan drew along breath to conceal her astonishment and gestured the man away. She had always assumed that her father was deep in the Arch-Druid's counsels. Was it possible that he did not know how Ardanos had been manipulating the Oracle all these years?\n\n\"Surely my father knows I speak only such Oracles as are given tome,\" she said soothingly. If he knows, then I have told him the truth-and if he does not, then I have told him nothing he does not know.\n\nIndeed, what she had said was a greater truth than even Ardanos knew, for although Ardanos translated her answers to questions as he saw fit, when the Goddess filled her and she spoke directly to the people, it was the Goddess who agreed or disagreed with the policies of the Arch-Druid as She chose. So far, at least, Her counsels had been sufficiently peaceable that he had not questioned them.\n\nBendeigid rose and began nervously to wander about the room. He said, \"Then I must entreat you to pray to the Goddess to avenge us. The spirits of the women of Mona still cry out for vengeance.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She frowned. \"Has Cynric sent you to say this tome?\" She knew that Gaius had taken him prisoner, and saved his life and freedom by making him one of the hostages, but did not know what had happened to him after that.\n\n\"He was captured,\" growled her father. \"They were going to send him to Rome to amuse the Emperor, but he killed his guards and won free.\"\n\n\"Where is he?\" she asked in some alarm. If the Romans caught him now a quick death was the best fate he could expect from them.\n\n\"I do not know,\" the Druid said evasively. \"But there is a great anger growing in the North, my daughter. The Romans are pulling back. The Ravens were not all killed in that battle, and their wounds are healing. If the Goddess does not rouse the land against the Romans, be sure that Cynric will.\"\n\n\"But I speak only to those who attend the festivals at the Hill of the Maidens,\" Eilan said uncomfortably. \"The Cornovii and Ordovices primarily, some Demetae and Silures, and a few of the wilder folk from the hills. What have we to do with Caledonia?\"\n\n\"Can it be that you do not understand your influence?\" He faced her directly. \"The Romans have taken our lands and subverted our chieftains and forbidden most of our religious rites. The Oracle here at Vernemeton is one of the few things that remains to us, and if you do not think that the words of the Goddess are repeated from one end of Britannia to the other you area fool!\"\n\nHe does not know that Ardanos influences the Oracle, Eilan thought then, but he suspects it. While she pretended ignorance he could not openly ask her support for an insurrection. But eventually matters were going to come to ahead." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I have been very isolated...\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "she said softly. \"But pilgrims do come to make their prayers at the sacred well. Let those who have news come to drink the waters on the new moon of each month, and if the veiled priestess who attends them talks of ravens, let them speak to her there.\"\n\n\"Ah, Daughter! I knew you would not betray your breeding!\" he exclaimed, his gaze kindling. \"I will tell Cynric-\"\n\n\"Tell him I make no promises,\" she interrupted, \"but if you wish me to pray to the Goddess for Her help, I must know what to ask! I can give you no assurances how She will reply...\"\n\nWith that, Bendeigid would have to be contented. Eilan sat fora longtime in thought when he had gone. Clearly Cynric was doing his best to start a rebellion, and without her support, he would certainly fail.\n\nBut the Druid had apparently also realized that she was a grown woman now and would make her own decisions. It was almost worth all she had suffered to face him from such a position of power. But with that power came a responsibility she could not avoid, not when there might come a day when her father and foster brother faced the father of her son across a battlefield.\n\nAnd if that happens, what will I do? Eilan closed her eyes in anguish. Dear Goddess, what will I do?\n\nAs Julia's child grew, they took to calling her'Cella,\" for it seemed ridiculous to refer to something so tiny by such along name. But Gaius waited in vain for the bond he had felt with little Gawen when first he saw him in Eilan's arms. Was it then something that happened only between a man and his first-born son? Or was it because he did not have such a bond with the child's mother?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At least Julia did not seem to find it odd that he would have little interest in a girl-child. And Cella was a placid baby who soon promised to be pretty, and was the delight of her grandfather's heart. Julia spent much of her time with the infant, dressing her in beautifully embroidered clothes, which seemed to Gaius a waste of time, and by the time the girl was a year old, Julia was pregnant again. This time she was absolutely positive it would be the longed-for son. A soothsayer, consulted at Julia's behest, promised that a son awaited birth but Gaius was not so certain.\n\nIn the end, however, he did not have to suffer with his wife through this pregnancy. The wars in Dacia had been going badly. Gaius felt a pang at hearing the Second Legion was to be withdrawn and the fortress they had builtin the North destroyed. He supposed that it had become apparent that the North could not beheld without afar greater investment of men and materiel than the Empire could afford. A lot of lives would have been saved, Gaius thought grimly, if they had had the sense to see that three years earlier!\n\nHe took to spending his spare time at the army post, listening to the news. On orders from the Emperor, the new Governor, Sallustius Lucullus, had commanded that all the northernmost fortresses be abandoned, their walls pulled down and their timber buildings burned so that nothing would remain that could be of use to the enemy. The Twentieth marched down from the North and settled back into their old quarters in Glevum, but no one knew for how long.\n\nIt was the Second Legion, however, which was ordered from Deva to Dacia. Macellius, announcing that he was too old to go dragging across the Empire, decided that the time had come to retire and started planning anew house in Deva. But Gaius was surprised by an invitation from the new legionary Commander to join his staff and sail with them. What amazed him almost as much was the fact that even Licinius did not object when he indicated that he would like to accept the offer." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We'll miss you, lad,\" the old man said, \"but it's time that you were attending to your career now that you've started your family. Haven't I been singing your praises allover Londinium for just this reason? It's a pity you won't be here for the birth of your second child, but it was only to be expected. Don't worry about Julia-I'll take care of her. You do your duty and comeback covered with glory!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dieda returned to the Forest House in the middle of May, a little over four years after she had gone into exile in Eriu. For once the day was sunny, and Eilan received her in the garden, hoping their meeting might be eased by a more informal setting, but she had asked Caillean to stay with her just the same. She sat up straighter, her veil sliding down over her shoulders, as Dieda came through the gateway, and Caillean hurried forward to greet her.\n\n\"Dieda, my child, it is good indeed to see you. It has been too long-\" They embraced ceremoniously, pressing cheek to cheek.\n\nDieda was wearing a loose gown of white linen in the Irish style, lavishly embroidered, with a bard's mantle of sky blue edged with golden fringe and held with a golden pin. Her hair, confined by an embroidered band, fell down in ringlets but, despite the festive raiment, her manner seemed strained.\n\n\"Ah, I had forgotten the peace here-\" said Dieda, looking around her at the glossy green of the mint beds, and the silvery foliage of lavender where the bees buzzed among the purple flowers.\n\n\"I am afraid you will find us quiet indeed after all the kings and the princes of Eriu.\" Eilan found her voice.\n\n\"It is a fine land, certainly, and very appreciative of singers and poets and all kinds of makers of music, but after a time one begins to miss one's own country.\"\n\n\"Well you certainly have the very lilt of Eriu in your voice, my child,\" observed Caillean. \"It is good to hear that music again!\"\n\nCertainly nobody who heard her speak could confuse us now, thought Eilan. It was not only a matter of accent but of depth and timbre. Dieda's voice had always been pleasant, but now she used it like a well-tuned instrument. Even ill words said in such a beautiful voice could be forgiven more easily." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I've had time and enough to acquire it,\" said Dieda. Her gaze slid to Eilan. \"It seemed half a lifetime I was away.\"\n\nEilan nodded. She felt herself to be a century older than the girl Lhiannon had chosen as her successor five years ago. But there was a petulant twist to Dieda's mouth. Did she still resent being sent away?\n\n\"It has been long enough for half a dozen new girls to come to us,\" she said evenly. \"A promising group-I think that most of them will eventually take their vows.\"\n\nDieda looked at her. \"And what had you in mind for me?\"\n\n\"Teach these girls as much as you can of the skills you have learned!\" Eilan leaned forward. \"I don't mean only hymns to make our rituals more beautiful, but the ancient learning, the lore of the gods and heroes as well.\"\n\n\"The priests will not like it.\"\n\n\"They will have nothing to say about it,\" said Eilan. Dieda's eyes widened. \"These days the chieftains buy Latin tutors for their sons and teach them to recite Virgil and appreciate Italian wines. They are doing their best to turn our men into Romans, but they do not care what women do. The last sanctuary for the old wisdom of our people maybe here at Vernemeton, and I would not have it lost!\"\n\n\"Things have changed indeed since I went away.\" For the first time, Dieda smiled. Then her eyes fixed on something beyond Eilan, and her expression changed.\n\nGawen was running towards them with his nurse trailing behind him. Eilan's hands twisted in the folds of her veil as she fought the compulsion to reach out and take him into her arms." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Moon Lady!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Moon Lady!\" he cried, then stopped and peered up into Dieda's face. \"You're not the Moon Lady!\" he said disapprovingly.\n\n\"Not anymore,\" Dieda said with a strange smile.\n\n\"This lady is our kinswoman Dieda,\" Eilan said through stiff lips. \"She sings as beautifully as any bird.\"\n\nFora few moments the boy looked from one to the other, frowning. His eyes were the same changeable hazel as Eilan's, but his hair was dark and curling like his father's, and he would have the same broad brow when he was a man.\n\n\"My Lady, I'm sorry,\" Lia said breathlessly, catching up with him and reaching for his hand. \"He got away from me!\"\n\nGawen's lower lip began to quiver and Eilan, recognizing the signs, gestured to the nurse to let him be. I suppose we have spoiled him, she thought, but he is so little, and I will lose him so soon!\n\n\"Did you want to see me, my heartling?\" she asked softly. \"I cannot play now, but if you come tome at sunset we will go down and feed the salmon in the Sacred Pool. Will that make you happy?\"\n\nSolemnly Gawen nodded. She reached out to touch his cheek, and her breath caught as he grinned and the dimple suddenly appeared. And then, as swiftly as he had come, he darted back to his nurse and let her lead him away. The day seemed to darken when he had gone.\n\n\"That is the child?\" Dieda said in the silence after they had disappeared. As Eilan nodded, fury flared in her blue eyes. \"You are mad to have him here! If he is discovered we are all lost! Have I spent four years in exile so that you could enjoy the pleasures of motherhood as well as the honor of being High Priestess?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"He does not know I am his mother,\" Eilan whispered brokenly.\n\n\"But you can see him! They did not kill him, or you! You owe that tome, O holy Moon Lady of Vernemeton!\" Dieda began to walk up and down, vibrating like one of her own harp strings.\n\n\"Have some pity, Dieda,\" Caillean said sternly. \"The boy will be fostered out in a year or two, and no one knows.\"\n\n\"Whose child do they think he is then?\" Dieda spat over her shoulder. \"Poor Mairi's, or perhaps mine?\" In their faces she could read the answer. \"So. Now that I have finished your exile, I will also have to bear your shame. Well, when they see me with the boy perhaps that rumor will die. For I warn you, I do not like children at all!\"\n\n\"But you will stay, and keep silent?\" Caillean asked bluntly.\n\n\"I will,\" Dieda said after a time, \"for I believe in the work you are doing here. But Eilan, hear me, for I have said this to you before, when I agreed to the substitution-if ever you betray our people, then beware, for I will be your doom!\"\n\nThe new moon was already high in the sunset sky, adding a silver gleam to the opalescent waters of the Sacred Pool. The salmon had come when summoned, and taken the cake Gawen offered almost from the boy's hand. Eilan waited until she could hear his prattling die away into the silence of the evening, then drew her veil over her face and took the path up to the shrine they had built around the spring that fed the pool.\n\nHer maidens thought it a great grace in their High Priestess to take her turn to minister to those who came to the Forest House for counsel. And often enough, that was all that Eilan did, serving as a sympathetic ear for the troubled, or referring those with more tangible problems to one of the spell-women or herbalists. But since learning of Cynric's plans for insurrection, she climbed this path with a little tremor, dreading those nights when the one who waited would whisper of ravens and rebellion." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was cool in the shrine; Eilan pulled her mantle more closely around her, letting the murmur of running water soothe her. The water trickled from a fissure in the rock with a leaden figure of the Lady set into a niche above it, and splashed into the channel that led to the drinking well and the Sacred Pool.\n\nSource of life... she prayed, bending to cup some of the icy water in her hand and touch it to lips and brow. Sacred water, forever upwelling, fill me with your serenity. Then she lit the lamp below the image, and settled herself to wait.\n\nThe moon was high in the sky when she heard the dragging footsteps of someone who was either ill or exhausted forcing himself up the path. Her throat tightened as the dark figure appeared in the doorway. It was a man, wrapped in a coarse sagum that might belong to any farmer, but below the cloak old bloodstained his trews. When he saw her, some of the tension went out of him in along sigh.\n\n\"Rest, drink, receive the Lady's peace...\" she murmured. He dropped to his knees and scooped water from the channel, visibly struggling for control.\n\n\"I have been fighting... the ravens flew over the battlefield,\" he whispered, looking up at her.\n\n\"Ravens fly at midnight as well,\" she answered. \"What have you to say tome?\"\n\n\"The rising... was set for Midsummer. Red-cloaks found out about it somehow, attacked us-\" He passed his handover his eyes. \"Night before last.\"\n\n\"Where is Cynric?\" she asked, her voice low and quick. Washer foster brother still among the living? \"What does he want from us here?\"\n\nThe man shrugged hopelessly. \"Cynric? On the run, probably. There maybe more like me coming, needing a place to lick their wounds.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan nodded. \"Behind our kitchens a path goes off into the forest. It leads to a hut our women use sometimes for meditation. Go now. You can sleep there, and someone will come with food.\" His shoulders sagged, and she wondered if he would have the strength to get that far.\n\n\"Blessed be the Lady,\" he murmured, \"and a blessing on you, for helping me.\" He heaved himself to his feet, saluted the image, and then, more silently than she would have thought possible, was gone.\n\nBut Eilan sat fora longtime after he had left her, listening to the plash of the water and watching the hypnotic flicker of lamplight on the wall.\n\nGoddess, she prayed, have pity on all fugitives; have pity onus all! Ina month it will be Midsummer; Ardanos will want me to tell the people to accept this latest blow, and my father will want them to rise and avenge the Ravens in blood and fire. What should I say to them? How can we bring peace to this land?\n\nShe waited for what seemed along time, but the only vision that came to her was that of water continually welling forth from the rock and running away down the hill.\n\nGaius sat writing in his quarters in the fort at Colonia Agrippensis, listening to the rain. He supposed that Germania Inferior was not really wetter than Britannia, but it had been a rainy spring. Sometimes the two years he had been gone, first in the lands north and west of Italia and nowhere, where the gorge of the Rhenus ended and it began its meanderings through flat marshes towards the northern sea, seemed only weeks. But today it felt to him as if he had been away from home for centuries." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He dipped his quill into the inkpot and began to form the letters of the next sentence in the letter he was writing to Licinius. Two years of regular correspondence, he reflected wryly, had made him almost as facile a writer as his slave secretary; at first it had been hard, but he had come to appreciate the value of a private correspondence.\n\n\"... the last of the legionaries whoa year ago followed Saturninus into rebellion have been judged and, for the most part, split up and integrated into other Legions,\" he wrote carefully. \"The Emperor's new order of only one Legion per camp is causing some inconvenience, and a great deal of work for the engineers. I do not know if it will discourage conspiracy, but it maybe a good thing to have our forces spread more evenly along the border. Has the order been implemented in Britannia?\"\n\nFora moment he paused, listening to the regular tramp of hobnailed sandals on stone as the watch went by, then bent to his work again.\n\n\"The word here is that the Marcomanni and Quadi are restive again, and Domitian has had to pause in his campaign against Dacia to deal with them. My advice would be to make anally of King Decebalus if possible, and use the Dacians to deal with the Marcomanni. The Emperor, however, has not yet included me among the select circle of his advisers, so who knows what he will do?\n\nHe smiled, knowing that Licinius would understand his humor. He had been in the Emperor's presence several times before he was transferred from the Second Legion in Dacia to a cavalry command in Germania, but he rather doubted that Domitian was aware of his existence.\n\n\"Training with my wing of cavalry goes well. The Brigantes stationed here are fearless horsemen, and very grateful to have a Commander who can speak to them in their own language. The poor beggars must be as homesick as I am. Give my love to Julia and the children. I suppose Cella must be quite a big girl now, and it is hard to believe that little Secunda is more than a year old." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I think of Britannia as a haven of peace compared to the frontier of Germania,\" he went on, \"but I suppose that is an illusion." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I overheard one of the new men in my command talking about ravens, and suddenly I am wondering about that secret society that we used to hear of years ago...\"\n\nOnce more he paused, telling himself that the anxiety that had suddenly overwhelmed him was only his reaction to the rain, but before he could return to his writing, someone knocked on his door with word that the Legate wanted to see him, and he pulled on his cloak and left his quarters, wondering what it could be.\n\n\"It's new orders, tribune,\" said his Commander. \"And I must say I'll be sorry to lose you, for you were shaping well here-\"\n\n\"Is the wing being transferred?\" Gaius looked at him in some confusion, fora wave of camp gossip usually preceded any move of this kind.\n\n\"Just you, lad, more's the pity. You're being transferred to the staff of the Governor in Britannia. Seems there's been some kind of local dust-up, and they need a man with your particular background there.\"\n\nThe Ravens... thought Gaius, and Cynric's face as he had last seen it, sullen with hatred, came to mind. I shall pay more attention to my premonitions from now on. He could see Licinius's hand in this summons. As one officer among many on the frontier, only the greatest good luck would bring him to the attention of anyone who could offer useful patronage. But if he could prevent a rebellion...\n\nLicinius was no doubt congratulating himself at finding away for his son-in-law to do his duty and at the same time advance his career. Only Gaius would know, or care, that to do so he must destroy a man who had been his friend. He made some kind of polite response to his Commander, scarcely hearing the reply, and went back to his quarters to pack his gear." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As the days ripened towards Midsummer, whispers of the fate of the Ravens' rebellion circulated through the land. Eilan had hoped that the Governor would forbid public assemblies in response to the rising, but it seemed that the official line was to discourage popular support by refusing to recognize that anything was wrong. But from the refugees, Eilan learned that Cynric had gone back to his friends in the North and raised a force from the survivors of Mons Graupius with men of the Ravens to lead them. That was easy enough, for the Romans had simply withdrawn from the desert they had made, leaving the people with nothing to sustain them but their hatred.\n\nBut then he had attempted to raise Brigantia, where the severity with which Venutius's rebellion had been put down had been followed by some attempt to rebuild the province. It was probably some man of the Brigantes, thought Eilan, or perhaps, remembering Cartimandua, a woman who had betrayed them, having decided that a limited prosperity in chains was preferable to the Roman sword.\n\nBy ones and twos more of the Ravens made their way southward, anguished by grief or sullen with despair. They were tended by Eilan's most trustworthy women, given new names and clothing and sent on their way. They told her that Cynric was still in the North with a remnant of unwounded men, being hunted by a special detachment from the Legions. The Caledonians had melted back into their hills, but the Ravens were clanless men, and had no homes to flee to when they could fight no more.\n\nThe ones who came to the Forest House were only Cynric's age, but hardship had made old men of them. Eilan looked at them with anguish, for some, like her own Gawen, showed their Roman blood in their faces. In her vision, she had seen that it was necessary for the blood of Rome and the tribes to mingle. But the Merlin had not said whether this would occur in friendship or through generation after generation in which men planted their seed and died, leaving grieving women to carry on." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ardanos and Lhiannon, remembering the rape of Mona, had chosen a policy of accommodation as the lesser evil; her father and Cynric seemed to feel that death was preferable to slavery. As Eilan watched Gawen grow, she knew only that she would protect her child.\n\nAnd so the lengthening days brought them at last to Midsummer, and the priestesses of the Forest House went out to the Hill of the Maidens to perform the ritual.\n\nEven from the avenue Eilan could seethe glow of the great bonfires atop the mound, and the fiery arcs the torches traced against the dark sky. The drums pulsed with a heavy insistence, their beat deepening to thunder as the young men of the countryside competed to toss their torches highest. Kings and armies might come and go, but the real struggle-sometimes it seemed to Eilan the only struggle that mattered-was the one that men waged each year to protect their fields and nurture the young crops.\n\nIn the distance she could hear the lowing of the cattle that had already been protected by driving them between the sacred fires; she smelled woodsmoke and cooked meat and the sharp fragrance of mugwort and hypericum from her garland.\n\n\"Oh look,\" said Senara, beside her. \"See how high they are throwing the torches, like shooting stars!\"\n\n\"May the crops grow as high as the torches rise!\" Caillean answered her.\n\nThey had brought a bench for Eilan to sit on until it was time for the rite of the Oracle; she huddled there gratefully, letting the murmured conversation of the other women eddy around her. It was not only the crops that were growing, she thought, listening to Senara's commentary. The frightened eight-year-old who had been given into her care five years ago was becoming a leggy maiden with a promise of beauty in her long bones and amber hair." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was a last crescendo from the hill, and then the fires appeared to explode outwards as lads snatched brands from the bonfires and raced down the hill in every direction to bear their protecting sun-power to the fields. The drumming settled to a hypnotic heartbeat, and Eilan felt the familiar flutter of approaching trance.\n\nIt will be soon now, she thought, and then, whatever comes of this night's work, it will be done. For the first time in years she had mixed the most powerful trance herbs into the potion, afraid that without their help her own fears might keep the Goddess from coming through. She knew that Ardanos was anxious as well, though his face did not show it. He was like a carven image, she thought, a shell in which the spirit flickered evermore fitfully, and she had seen how much he needed the support of his oaken staff. One day, perhaps soon, he would begone. There had been times when she hated him, but in the past years they had come to an unspoken understanding. And there was no telling who his successor would be.\n\nBut that was a fear she could face once this night was past. The procession was beginning to move now. Eilan allowed Caillean to assist her to her feet and started up the hill.\n\nThe Druids were chanting; their song pulsed through the warm air.\n\n\"Behold, the holy priestess comes,\n\nSacred herbs are in her crown;\n\nThe golden crescent in her hand...\"\n\nEven after five years, there was always that moment of surprise when Eilan felt the first wave of expectation from the assembled crowd. And she had certainly forgotten the nausea, and the sickening lurch in consciousness as the drugs began to take hold. She fought back the flicker of panic as the world whirled around her. She had sought this; whether out of faith or cowardice she was not sure, but this time she wanted the world to go away." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Lady of Life, to You I entrust my spirit." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mother, be merciful to all Your children!\n\nYears of practice had given her full control over the techniques of focus and breathing that loosed the spirit from the body. The herbs in the potion aided the process, as if her head had been shattered like a broken bowl so that Other could flood into her, tossing her consciousness aside like a leaf on a stream.\n\nEilan felt the priestesses assisting her into the chair, and the unsettling sensation of falling even though she knew they were lifting her. Her spirit swung between earth and heaven; there was a slight jerk as they set the chair atop the mound, and she was free.\n\nShe was floating in a golden mist, and fora time it was enough simply to enjoy the sense of being safe, protected, and at home. Suspended in this certainty, the fears she had left behind her seemed transitory, even absurd. But the silver cord that still tied her to her body would not entirely release her, and presently, ever reluctantly, the mist thinned enough so that she could see, and hear.\n\nShe looked down upon the huddle of blue robes in the tall chair and knew it for her body, dimly illuminated by the embers of the great bonfires to either side. The priests and priestesses made a circle with the people behind them, pale robes on one side and dark on the other in two great curves of light and shadow. The great mass of folk who had come for the festival darkened the hillside; points of fire winked from the booths and tents of the encampment that had sprung up around it. Beyond stretched the patchwork of field and forest, with the pale glimmer of roads cutting through the trees. Without curiosity she noted a swirl of motion in one part of the crowd, and further off a more regular movement along the road from Deva, and the gleam as metal caught the light of the setting moon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Druids were invoking the Goddess, twining all the incoherent imaginings of the people into a single, mighty image which was at the same time as various as there were people to echo their call. Eilan saw the power they were raising as a swirl of multicolored light and pitied the fragile human form into which it was descending. Now her body was almost hidden; the energy was taking shape; she saw a female figure, heroic in stature and splendid inform, though the features could not yet be seen.\n\nEilan drew closer, wondering what face the Lady would wear for this gathering.\n\nAnd in that moment, the disturbance in the crowd reached the center; she saw the red gleam of swords and heard male voices harsh with anguish crying, \"Great Queen, hear us! Cathubodva, we call you-Lady of Ravens, avenge your sons!\"\n\nArdanos turned, his face contorting, to silence them, but the intensity of emotion in that call had done its work. A whirl of dark-winged shadows fluttered across the circle as a sudden chill wind stirred the fires; and the figure in the chair seemed to expand suddenly and sat bolt upright, flinging the veil aside.\n\n\"I hear your summoning, and I come,\" she said in the language of the tribes. \"Who is it that dares to call on Me?\"\n\nThe murmur of fright that had swept the circle faded to absolute silence as a man limped into the circle of firelight. Eilan recognized Cynric, a bloody bandage around his head and a naked sword in his hand. \"Mother, it is I who call you-ever have I served you! Lady of Ravens, arise now in wrath!\"\n\nThe chair creaked as the figure who sat there leaned forward. In the firelight Her face and Her hair were as red as Cynric's sword. Ardanos looked from one to the other, straining to stop this; but the force that linked them was too strong and he did not dare." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well indeed have you served Me...\" Her voice scraped the silence. \"Severed heads and dismembered bodies are your offerings, blood the libation you pour upon the ground. The wails of women and the groans of the dying are your sacred music; your ritual fires are fueled by the bodies of men... You have called Me, red raven. What would you, now that I have come?\"\n\nShe smiled terribly, and Midsummer though it was, the wind was suddenly icy, as if Cathubodva's darkness had killed the sun. The people began to edge backward. Only Cynric, Ardanos, and the two attendant priestesses held their ground.\n\n\"Destroy the invaders; strike down the despoilers of our land! Victory, Lady, is what I demand!\"\n\n\"Victory?\" Hideously, the battle-goddess began to laugh. \"I do not give victory-I am the battle-bride; I am the devouring mother; death is the only victory that you will find in My arms!\" She raised her hands and the folds of her cloak flared out like dark wings. This time even Cynric recoiled.\n\n\"But our cause is just...\" he faltered.\n\n\"Justice! Is there ever justice in the wars of men? Everything the Romans do to you, men of your blood have done to each other, and to the peoples who were before them in this land! Your blood feeds the earth whether you die in the straw or on the battlefield-it makes no difference to Me!\"\n\nCynric was shaking his head bewilderedly. \"But I fought for my people. At least tell me that our enemies will also suffer one day...\"\n\nThe Goddess leaned forward, staring at him, and he could not look away. \"I see...\" She whispered. \" From the bright god's shoulders the ravens are flying-no more shall they counsel him. Instead it is an eagle he welcomes. He shall become an eagle, betrayed and betraying, suffering in the branches of the oak tree until he becomes a god once more..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I seethe eagle put to flight by a white horse that gallops from across the sea. Now the eagle joins with the red dragon, and together they fight the stallion, and the stallion battles dragons from the North and lions from the South... I see one beast killing another and arising in its turn to defend the land. The blood of all of them shall feed the earth, and the blood of all of them shall mingle, till no man can say who is the enemy...\"\n\nThere was silence in the circle when She had finished, as if folk did not know whether to hope or fear. From further away came the moaning of cattle, and a sound like drumming, though the musicians were still.\n\n\"Tell us, Lady-\" Cynric croaked as if he found it hard to get the words out. \"Tell us what we should do...\"\n\nThe Lady sat back, and this time her laugh was low and amused.\n\n\"Flee,\" She said softly. \"Flee now, for your enemies are upon you.\" She lifted her head and looked around the circle. \"All of you, go swiftly and quietly, and you will live... fora while.\"\n\nSome of the people began to shift away from the fires, but the remainder stayed staring as if enchanted.\n\n\"Go!\" She flung up her hand, and awing of darkness swept the circle. Startled into movement, people began to push against their neighbors like the first rolling pebbles in an avalanche of stones. \"Cynric, son of Junius, run!\" She screamed suddenly. \"Run, for the Eagles come!\"\n\nAnd as the people fled the distant drumming became a present thunder and the Roman cavalry charged.\n\nGaius let the impetus of the charge sweep him forward, willing his awareness to confine itself to the movement of the horse beneath him, and the riders to either side, the rising ground, the running shapes of men and women and the glow of the flames. He tried to banish the memories which colored his perceptions, but he kept seeing a full moon and dancers, Cynric walking hand in hand with Dieda, and Eilan's rosy face lit by the Beltane fires." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The anterior horns of the saddle jabbed his buttocks as the slope steepened; he gripped with his knees and settled lance and shield, scanning the fleeing figures for armed men." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Their orders had been clear enough-to avoid slaughtering a peaceful population, but to keep the fugitive rebels among them from getting away. The Legate had not explained how, in the confusion and darkness, that was to be done.\n\nStill cursing the fate that had sent him after Cynric and the Ravens at this of all places, Gaius saw a glint of metal, a white face contorting in fear or fury. Responses trained into him by ten years as a soldier moved his arm without the need for decision. He felt the jerk and tug as the lance pierced flesh and pulled free again, and the face disappeared.\n\nThe charge was slowing; they reached the flattened hilltop and saw it almost deserted, though people were streaming away on every side. A terse order to his optio sent riders swinging outward in pursuit. His mount half-reared as a white figure waved its arms wildly, mouthing something about sacred ground. Gaius kneed the animal in a rocking canter around the perimeter, looking for Cynric, heard the clash of metal on the other side of the mound in the center, and headed toward it.\n\nAnd suddenly his mount was plunging, whinnying in terror as awing of shadow swirled around it and someone screamed. It was not fear he heard but anger, anguish; a cry that contained all the horror and fear and fury of all the battlefields in the world; a shriek that turned the bowels to water and shivered the bones. Every animal that heard it fora moment was maddened, and every human felt the spirit within him gibber with fear. Gaius lost his reins and his lance and clung to his pony's mane as the world whirled around him. The face of a Fury hung before him, haloed by seething tendrils of shining hair." }, { "from": "human", "value": "His mount plunged onward and he came into the leaping firelight; all around him men stood frozen as if by some spell." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then his horse came to a shivering halt and people began to move again, but he could still seethe terror in their eyes. He took a deep breath, realizing that surprise was lost, and looked around.\n\nSome of the Druids were supporting a man in white whom he realized in shock must be Ardanos; he looked very old now. The blue-robed priestesses were easing what looked like a bundle of cloth out of the chair on the top of the mound. As his battle fury drained away, Gaius felt suddenly very tired.\n\nAnother rider, his optio, appeared at his side. \"They've scattered, sir.\"\n\nGaius nodded. \"But they can't have gone far. Set the men to scouring the area. They can report back tome here.\"\n\nStiffly he swung his leg over the pony's neck, slid to the ground, and walked forward, the horse plodding behind him. Ashe neared, Ardanos stirred, looking at him pleadingly.\n\n\"It was not my doing,\" he mumbled. \"Called the Goddess-suddenly Cynric was there!\"\n\nGaius nodded. He knew the Arch-Druid's policies well enough to believe him. It was the woman whose shriek had paralyzed them who had given the rebels the extra moment they needed to melt into the crowd. He continued walking towards the group of women. Somehow he was not surprised when Caillean turned, staring at him defiantly, but it was the woman who lay on the ground he wanted to see.\n\nHe took another step and found himself staring down at a woman's face; white, unconscious, identifiable only in its broadest outlines with the Fury who had appeared to him. And yet with a sick certainty he knew that it was She, and at the same time that it was Eilan." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As the Romans hunted Ravens in the days that followed the fight at the Hill of Maidens, Gaius felt as if he had become two people, the one dispassionately reporting the results of the operation to the Commander in Deva and then returning to Londinium to repeat the story to the Governor, while the other tried to reconcile the mask of fury he had seen therewith the image of the woman he loved. Julia hovered about him with wifely solicitude, but after the first nightmare, they both agreed that fora time it might be better if he slept alone.\n\nJulia did not seem to mind. She was as affectionate as ever, but during the two years he had been away her focus had shifted to her children. The girls were growing fast, miniatures of their mother, although there were times when Gaius thought he saw agleam of Macellius's determination in his elder daughter's eyes. But though they were dutiful, he had become a stranger. It hurt a little to hear their laughter cease when he entered the room, and it occurred to him that perhaps if he could find the time to get to know them better the distance between them would disappear.\n\nBut he could not bring himself to try to bridge it, not now, when his heart was telling him that whatever love had remained between him and Eilan had been swept away by the Power that possessed her. At times the strain of concealing his anguish made him want to howl. Gaius was relieved when the Commander at Deva requested him to return for consultation, a postscript indicating that his father was hoping that instead of staying in the fortress, Gaius could pay him a visit in the new house he had builtin the town. Perhaps it would be easier thereto reconcile the conflict that was tearing at him.\n\n\"Have they captured anymore fugitives from the Raven conspiracy?\" Macellius poured wine for Gaius and handed him the cup, good but not gaudy, like the dining chamber itself and the mansion that surrounded it. His father's place was one of the better houses that had been built around the fortress, evidence of a growing civilian presence as the country settled down. Gaius shook his head." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That fellow Cynric-he was their leader, wasn't he?\" Macellius said then. \"Didn't you capture him at Mons Graupius?\"\n\nGaius nodded and took along drink of sour wine, wincing as the movement stretched the healing slash on his side. He had not noticed it until the fight at the Hill was over, but it was more annoying than serious; he had had far worse on the German frontier. The shock of realizing that the Fury who had cursed them all was Eilan was his worst wound. After a moment he realized that his father was waiting for an answer. \"I did-but later he got away.\"\n\n\"Seems to be good at that,\" observed his father, \"like that bastard Caractacus. But we got him in the end, and eventually somebody will betray your Cynric too, someone from his own side...\"\n\nGaius stirred uncomfortably at the pronoun, hoping his father would not remember that Cynric was Bendeigid's foster son. It would have saved everyone a lot of trouble, he thought grimly, if he had killed Cynric when he had the chance.\n\n\"Ah well,\" the older man continued, \"nobody blames you for not catching him, and wherever the survivors run to, it's not likely we'll see them here...\" He looked around him with what Gaius could only characterize as a smug sigh.\n\n\"Not likely,\" his son agreed. \"Are you really comfortable here?\" After retiring from the army, Macellius had built his mansion, almost immediately been elected a decurion and was rapidly becoming a pillar of the community.\n\n\"Oh yes, it's a nice place. Settled down a lot in the past few years, and the town is growing. The amphitheater is a draw, of course. More shops everyday, it seems tome, and I've just coughed up a goodly sum to pay for the new temple.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A miniature Rome, in fact,\" Gaius said, smiling. \"All you lack is a coliseum for the Games.\"\n\n\"Gods preserve me.\" Macellius held up one hand, laughing. \"No doubt I'd have to pay for those as well. This business of being a city father is highly overrated. I hardly dare open my door for fear I'll be given the honor of contributing to something new!\"\n\nBut he was laughing, Gaius observed, and thought that he had never seen his father so contented.\n\n\"There's one thing I'd not grudge the money for, though,\" said Macellius, \"and that's to send you to Rome. It's time, you know. You'll get a good recommendation from the Governor after this last bit of service, and you can't rise much further on the kind of patronage your father-in-law and I can give you. Has Licinius said anything?\"\n\n\"He's mentioned it,\" Gaius said cautiously. \"But I can't go until everyone's satisfied that things will stay quiet here.\"\n\n\"I can't help wishing Vespasian had lived longer.\" Macellius frowned. \"There was a stingy old fox for you, but he knew how to pick good men. This cub of his, Domitian, seems determined to rule like an Eastern despot. He's banished the philosophers, I hear. Now I ask you, what harm could a lot of prosy old bores do?\"\n\nGaius, remembering his own desperation when his old tutor had droned on about Plato, felt a sneaking sympathy for the Emperor.\n\n\"In any case, he's the man you'll have to impress if you want a good posting, and though I'll miss you, a procuratorship somewhere in one of the older provinces is the logical next step in your career.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I'll miss you, too,\" said Gaius quietly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And that was true, but he realized that he would not particularly miss Licinius, or even Julia and the girls. In fact, he thought he would be glad to getaway from Britain fora while, to someplace where nothing would remind him of Cynric or Eilan.\n\nGaius finally set out for Rome on the ides of August, attended by a Greek slave called Philo, a gift from Licinius, who swore he could be depended upon to drape a toga decently and send his master out each morning looking like a gentleman. In his saddlebag was the Procurator's annual report on the economy of the Province, which gave Gaius the status of official courier and carried with it the right to use the military post houses.\n\nThe weather held fair, but even so it seemed a weary journey. The further south they traveled the drier the country became-to Gaius's northern eyes a desert, though the officers at the posting houses laughed to hear him say so and traded stories of Egypt and Palestine, where the desert sands scoured monuments older than Rome. He found himself wishing that like Caesar he could while away the time by writing his memoirs, but even if he waited forty years to do so, he doubted anyone would be interested in reading them.\n\nEven Julia's chatter would have been welcome, though these days all she seemed able to talk about was the children. But children were what he had married her for, he reminded himself; children, and social standing. And so far everything had gone more or less to plan. Only, as he passed through the endless miles of slave-farmed estates in Gaul, Gaius found himself wondering if this pursuit of rank and position was really worth it. And then they would come to the next inn, or the next villa belonging to one of Licinius's friends. In the arms of whatever pretty slave girl they sent to warm his bed he could forget both Julia and Eilan, and in the morning he would tell himself that it was only his fatigue that had been speaking, or perhaps a natural anxiety about how he would do in Rome." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Once he reached Rome, it began to rain, heavily and continuously, as if making up for lost time. The kinsman of Licinius with whom he was staying was hospitable enough, but Gaius very quickly became tired of jokes about bringing his British weather with him. And it was not even true, really, for in Britannia there was an honest chill to the rain, but Rome was not so much cold as plagued by a pervasive and pestilent damp. Forever after, Gaius's memories of that time were linked to the alkaline smell of damp plaster and the reek of wet wool.\n\nRome was mud and smoky skies; the rank smell of the Tiber and the exotically spiced cooking fires of a hundred different nationalities. Rome was white marble and gilding and heady perfumes; the blare of trumpets and the shrieking of market-women and the eternal, sub-aural hum of more people, speaking more languages than Gaius had ever imagined existed, crammed together on seven hills whose contours had long ago disappeared beneath this encrustation of humanity. Rome was the pulsing heart of the world.\n\n\"And this is your first visit to Rome?\" The lady to whom Gaius was talking favored him with a laugh that tinkled like the silver bangles she wore. Exquisitely curled women and elegantly draped men crowded the atrium of Licinius's cousin, who was giving the party, and conversation hummed like bees in an orchard. \"So what do you think of the Mistress of Nations, diadem of the Empire?\" Her painted eyelids drooped coquettishly. This was another question Gaius had heard so often he had been forced to memorize an answer.\n\n\"I think the splendor of the city far eclipsed by the beauty that adorns it,\" he said gallantly. He would have said'might\" and'power\" if he had been talking to a man." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This earned him another burst of tinkling; then his host rescued him and bore him away to the peristyle, where toga-clad men were grouped like figures on apiece of statuary. He joined them with some relief. Even among the men, there were dangers, but at least he understood them. Roman women produced in him something of the same paralysis he had felt when he first met Julia.\n\nBut she was straightforward by comparison to the ladies he was meeting now. One or two of them had invited him to bed, but a lively sense of self-preservation had kept him free of such entrapments. Rome attracted the best of everything, and if he needed a woman, there were courtesans who demanded nothing of him but his money, and whose arts could banish anxiety, fora little while.\n\nMoving in Roman society was like leading a cavalry charge across icy ground-exhilarating while it lasted, but you never knew when some treacherous bit would bring you down. Gaius wondered if Julia could have held her own in that company. And as for Eilan-it was like trying to imagine a wild antelope, or perhaps a wildcat, among a herd of high-bred racing mares to picture her here: both were beautiful, but different orders of being entirely.\n\n\"I understand that you served under Agricola in Caledonia...\"\n\nGaius blinked, realizing that one of the older men was talking to him. He caught the flicker of abroad purple stripe on the tunic and straightened as if he were facing a superior officer, racking his brains to remember the man's name. Most of his host's friends were from the equestrian class; he had done well to get a senator here.\n\n\"Yes, sir, I had that honor. I had hoped to call upon him herein Rome.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I believe that at present he is residing on the family estates in Gaul,\" the Senator said neutrally. Marcellus Clodius Malleus, that was his name.\n\n\"It is hard to imagine him resting.\" Gaius grinned. \"I had supposed he would be putting the fear of the gods into the enemies of Rome somewhere on the frontiers or bringing the Pax Romana to one of the provinces.\"\n\n\"Indeed, one might think so.\" The Senator's manner warmed perceptibly. \"But you might be wiser not to say so until you are sure of your company...\"\n\nGaius stilled, thinking once more of icy ground, but Malleus continued to smile.\n\n\"There are many herein Rome who appreciate Agricola's qualities, qualities that appear evermore admirable each time we learn of some mishandled campaign by one of our other generals.\"\n\n\"Then why doesn't the Emperor employ him?\" Gaius asked.\n\n\"Because victory for Roman arms is secondary to keeping the Emperor in power. The more people clamor for Agricola to be sent out as General, the more our \"lord and god\" suspects him. In another year he will be due fora major consular appointment, but as things are now, his friends must advise him not to accept it.\"\n\n\"I can seethe problem,\" said Gaius thoughtfully. \"Agricola is far too conscientious to fail deliberately, but if he does well, the Emperor will feel threatened by his success. Well, he will be remembered with honor in Britannia, whatever happens in Rome.\"\n\n\"Tacitus would be happy to hear you say that,\" said Malleus.\n\n\"Oh, do you know him? I served with him in Caledonia.\" The conversation moved into a general discussion of the northern campaign, which the Senator proved to have followed closely. It was only as the guests were being herded to the gardens fora display by some Bithynian dancing girls that the conversation became personal once more." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Advance the story as the writer's narrative assistant.\nTags: fantasy, historical fantasy, druids\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Forest House\nChapter: 30" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I believe that at present he is residing on the family estates in Gaul,\" the Senator said neutrally. Marcellus Clodius Malleus, that was his name.\n\n\"It is hard to imagine him resting.\" Gaius grinned. \"I had supposed he would be putting the fear of the gods into the enemies of Rome somewhere on the frontiers or bringing the Pax Romana to one of the provinces.\"\n\n\"Indeed, one might think so.\" The Senator's manner warmed perceptibly. \"But you might be wiser not to say so until you are sure of your company...\"\n\nGaius stilled, thinking once more of icy ground, but Malleus continued to smile.\n\n\"There are many herein Rome who appreciate Agricola's qualities, qualities that appear evermore admirable each time we learn of some mishandled campaign by one of our other generals.\"\n\n\"Then why doesn't the Emperor employ him?\" Gaius asked.\n\n\"Because victory for Roman arms is secondary to keeping the Emperor in power. The more people clamor for Agricola to be sent out as General, the more our \"lord and god\" suspects him. In another year he will be due fora major consular appointment, but as things are now, his friends must advise him not to accept it.\"\n\n\"I can seethe problem,\" said Gaius thoughtfully. \"Agricola is far too conscientious to fail deliberately, but if he does well, the Emperor will feel threatened by his success. Well, he will be remembered with honor in Britannia, whatever happens in Rome.\"\n\n\"Tacitus would be happy to hear you say that,\" said Malleus.\n\n\"Oh, do you know him? I served with him in Caledonia.\" The conversation moved into a general discussion of the northern campaign, which the Senator proved to have followed closely. It was only as the guests were being herded to the gardens fora display by some Bithynian dancing girls that the conversation became personal once more." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm giving a small dinner party three weeks from now-\" Malleus laid a friendly hand on Gaius's arm. \"Nothing elaborate, just a few men whom I think you will find interesting. Would you honor me by attending? Cornelius Tacitus has promised to be there.\"\n\nFrom that day forward it seemed to Gaius that the superficial round of parties and entertainments that had begun to exasperate him took on anew dimension. It felt as if he were at last penetrating the veil with which Roman society protected itself against outsiders, and if it was only one segment of that society, and perhaps a dangerous one, even that was preferable to dying of boredom.\n\nA few days later Licinius's cousin, whose agnomen was Corax, took Gaius with him to the Games in the new Coliseum that Domitian was building on the site where Nero's overwrought palace had once stood.\n\n\"There's a certain appropriateness in the location,\" Corax observed as they took their seats in the section reserved for the Equestrians, \"since Nero himself put on Games such as Rome had never seen before, especially when he was trying to convince everyone that that odd Jewish sect-you know, the Christians-had caused the great fire.\"\n\n\"Did they?\" Gaius was looking around him. They had arrived between fights, and slaves were replacing the bloodstained sand.\n\n\"You hardly need deliberate sabotage to start afire in this city, my lad,\" his host said wryly. \"Why do you think every district has afire watch to which we all contribute so willingly? But this was a particularly bad one, and the Emperor needed a scapegoat to counter the rumors that he had started the blaze himself!\"\n\nGaius turned to stare at him.\n\n\"New buildings, lad, new buildings!\" Corax explained. \"Nero fancied himself an architect, and the people who owned the property where the fire started wouldn't sell. The fire got out of hand, and the Emperor needed someone to blame. The Games were really quite horrid-no skill involved at all-just a lot of poor souls who died more like sheep than like men.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius was suddenly glad he had not captured Cynric after all. Such a fighter would certainly have been sent here, and he did not deserve it, though surely he would have not been a sheep but rather a wolf or a bear.\n\nTrumpets blared and a shiver of expectation ran through the vast throng. Gaius felt his own heartbeat quicken and was reminded oddly of the moment before battle; it was the only time he had been in the presence of so many thousands, all nerving themselves up to make blood flow. But at least in war both sides were at equal risk. It was other men's blood these Romans were offering, not their own.\n\nHe had seen bear baitings at home, of course, as entertainment for the Legions. There was certainly a fascination in some of the pairings of wild beasts imported for the Games. A lion and a giraffe, for instance, or a wild boar and a panther. Corax told him that on one occasion a pregnant sow had been fighting and actually farrowed a piglet during her death throes. But the real focus of the afternoon was on the most dangerous of all animals-man.\n\n\"Now we shall see some skill,\" said Corax as the mock combats finished and the first of the gladiators, hide and armor alike oiled and gleaming, stalked across the sand. \"This kind of thing is what makes the Games worth seeing. Those fights in which they throw in untrained prisoners of war or criminals, even women and children, are simply a stupid slaughter. Here, for instance, we have a Samnite and a Retarius-\" He indicated the first gladiator, wearing greaves and a visored helmet crowned with a tuft of feathers and armed with a shortsword and big rectangular shield, and his more agile opponent, flourishing his net and trident." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius, trained to judge fighting men, found his professional interest engaged. All around him bets were being placed with an intensity that almost matched that of the fighters. Corax kept up a running commentary, and it was not until the Samnite fighter was down with the net-man's trident at his throat that he realized that the man giving the thumbs-down signal from the purple-hung box was the Emperor.\n\nThe trident thrust and the Samnite convulsed and then was still, his bright blood staining the sand. Gaius sat back, licking dry lips, his throat raw from cheering. He must have been intent indeed not to hear the trumpets announcing the entrance of the Emperor. From this distance he could see only a figure in a purple tunic, wrapped in a mantle that glittered with gold.\n\nLater that night, as Corax's masseur pummeled him after his soak in the bath, Gaius realized that his whole body was amass of aching muscles, which had been tensed against one another as he watched the Games. At the time he had not noticed.\n\nBut he felt also a great sense of release. Going to the Coliseum was indeed like being in a battle, like that moment when all existence is simplified into a single struggle, and you are carried beyond yourself and become one with a greater whole. Fora moment, it seemed to him he understood why the Romans loved their Games with such a passion. However perverse and pointless it seemed, they were moved by the same force that had enabled the Legions to conquer half the world.\n\nThe night of Malleus's party was cold and windy, but the streets were choked as usual with food sellers and barbers, men hawking pots and every other kind of street merchant, hoping for one more sale before darkness forced them all indoors. As Gaius's litter bearers forced their way towards the Aventine, it occurred to him that he had almost become used to the noise, as he had grown accustomed to the clatter of iron-shod cartwheels on cobblestones that made the night almost as noisy as the day." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But as they turned onto the main avenue he heard anew sound. The litter stopped, and he stuck his head through the curtains to see. A religious procession was making its way along the road; he glimpsed shaven-headed priests in white robes and women in veils. The women were wailing, their lamentations punctuated by the sibilance of shaking sistrums and the deep boom of a drum.\n\nDespite the warmth of his toga Gaius found himself shivering, for the mourning touched something that deeply disturbed his urbane persona, and even the easy competence of the man he was at home.\n\nEven without understanding its cause, he felt that anguish as his own. It was like the mourning in the Mithraeum when the bull is killed. Another group of priests went by, and then more women, their gliding gait reminding him of the priestesses at home, and then a litter on which he could seethe black-veiled statue of a golden cow. Fora few moments longer the drumming pounded in his ears; then the procession passed.\n\nWhen Gaius finally got to it, the dinner party proved to be a gathering of the kind that he had come to feel represented the best in Roman society. The food was simple but well prepared, the company urbane and well informed. Gaius felt outclassed, but these were men from whom he could learn.\n\nThe topic that had been proposed was'pieta's,\" the wine mixed half and half with water so that everyone remained focused enough to discuss it seriously.\n\n\"I suppose one question is whether there is more than one true religion,\" Gaius said when his turn to speak arrived. \"Of course each people has its faith and should be allowed to keep it, but herein Rome you seem to worship more gods than I ever knew existed. Just tonight, for instance, I saw some kind of procession that sounded oriental, but most of those following it looked Roman.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That must have been the Isia,\" observed Herennius Senecio, one of the more important of the guests. \"The followers of Isis celebrate her search for the dismembered body of Osiris at this time of year. When she has gathered the pieces she reanimates his body and conceives the sun-child Horus anew.\"\n\n\"Do not the British tribes have a festival at this time also?\" asked Tacitus. \"I seem to remember processions around the countryside with masks and bones.\"\n\n\"True,\" replied Gaius. \"At Samaine the white mare goes around with her followers and the people invite the souls of their ancestors to reincarnate in the wombs of the women of the tribe.\"\n\n\"Perhaps that is the answer then,\" said Malleus. \"Though we all have different names for the gods, they are all in essence the same, and therefore to worship any of them is piety.\"\n\n\"For instance, the god whom we call Jupiter is known by his oak tree and his thunderbolt,\" said Tacitus. \"The Germans worship him as Donar, and the British as Tanarus or Taranis.\"\n\nGaius was not so sure. It was hard to imagine any Celtic deity being worshipped in a great temple like the one dedicated to Jupiter in the Forum. Atone party he had meta woman they said was a Vestal and he had observed her with curiosity, but although the woman was marked by a certain dignity and certainly more decorum than most of the Roman women he had seen, there was none of the nobility he associated with the women of the Forest House. Curiously, it was easier to identify the Egyptian Isis, whose procession he had just seen, with the Great Goddess Eilan served.\n\n\"I think that our British friend has put his finger on areal problem,\" said Malleus. \"Surely that is why our fathers fought so hard to keep foreign cults like that of Cybele and Dionysos from taking root in Rome. Even the temple of Isis was burned.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If we include all the peoples of the world in our Empire,\" Tacitus countered, \"then we must also include their gods. I would never deny that, for I think that there is more honor, more purity of morals, and more of what we would call piety in the hall of any German chieftain than inmost of the mansions of Rome. There is no harm in that, so long as the rituals that preserve the State are given first priority.\"\n\n\"That seems to be what the deified Augustus had in mind when he allowed his cult to spread through the Empire,\" Malleus replied. There was a short silence.\n\n\"Dominus et Deus...\" someone said softly, and Gaius remembered hearing that was how the Emperor liked to be addressed these days. \"He goes too far! Will we return to the days when Caligula trotted out his favorite horse for everyone to worship?\"\n\nGaius looked around and realized in some surprise that the man who had spoken was Flavius Clemens, some kind of cousin of the Emperor.\n\n\"Pieta's is the essence of reverence and obligation between men and the gods, not adulation fora mortal!\" Senecio exclaimed. \"Even Augustus insisted that'Roma' be coupled with his name. We do not worship the man, but his genius, the god within him. To believe that a mere human has the wisdom and power to govern an Empire like this one would be impiety indeed.\"\n\n\"Well, in the Provinces the cult works as a force for unity,\" Gaius observed brightly in the even more uncomfortable silence that followed. \"When nobody knows what the Emperor is like personally, all they can do is to worship the idea of a Divine Ruler. Whatever their personal religion, everyone can come together to burn incense to the Emperor.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Everyone except the Christians,\" someone observed, and, except for Flavius Clemens, they all laughed.\n\n\"Well, there's no need to persecute them and make more martyrs,\" Tacitus pointed out. \"Their appeal is mostly to slaves and women. And they have so many factions, they can be depended upon to destroy each other if we only leave them alone!\"\n\nSweets and cheese were served then, and the conversation passed to other things. These were all civilized men, after all, not likely to be swayed by religious enthusiasm. But Gaius could not help wondering if piety, duty, and mutual obligation were enough to nourish the human soul. Perhaps people were driven to cults such as that of Isis or the Christos by the aridity of the State religion, or perhaps the bloody rituals of the Coliseum had become the real religion of Rome.\n\nThe other thing he was beginning to realize was that among the thinking men of the city-the men whose company he was increasingly coming to value-there was a growing opposition to the Emperor. These connections would not bring him the patronage he needed to advance in his career. If it came to a choice between ambition and honor, which would he choose?\n\nShortly after Gaius's arrival, the Imperial Procurator's staff of busy freedmen went to work to digest the content of the report from Licinius that he had carried and analyze its implications for the Emperor. Yet the city fathers retained enough authority so that this information must be delivered to them eventually, and Gaius discovered that the influence of his new friends was sufficient to win him an invitation to address the Senate and meet the Emperor afterward.\n\nOn the morning he was to appear, Gaius had himself shaved with special care-though he sometimes thought that the bearded Ardanos and Bendeigid were less barbarian than he was himself, he did not think he could explain that to the assembled conscript fathers." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was very early when he arrived at the Senate and was given a seat beneath a statue of the deified Augustus, who stood on his pedestal looking as cold and cross as Gaius felt. The senators entered by ones and twos, talking softly, followed by the secretaries with their piles of wax tablets, ready to record the debates and decisions of the day. This, reflected Gaius, was where the lords of the world decided the fates of nations. On this marble floor they had debated the defense against Hannibal and the invasion of Britannia. The river of time flowed strongly in this chamber; in comparison, even the pride of the Caesars was only a ripple on the stream.\n\nJust as the opening invocations were beginning the Emperor arrived, resplendent in a purple toga sewn allover with golden stars that made Gaius blink. He had heard of the toga picta, but had thought it was only worn by a general presiding over his triumph. It was rather disturbing to see it worn here, and he wondered if Domitian wanted to be seen as a conqueror, or was simply fond of finery. This was the first time Gaius had seen his Emperor at such close hand. The youngest son of the great Vespasian had the bull neck and well-muscled shoulders of a soldier, but Gaius read petulance in the twist of his mouth and suspicion in his eyes.\n\nIt was almost time for the noon recess before Gaius was beckoned forward to read Licinius's report on the finances of Britannia. There were a few questions, mostly on the subject of resources, and one from Clodius Malleus that allowed Gaius to mention the part he had played in controlling the latest rebellion. Despite some recent tutoring in oratory, he felt he must have bored them, but at the end of his speech, they voted him a perfunctory round of applause and-as Licinius had foreseen-confirmed that for the next year a reasonable percentage of the tax money they had collected might be retained in Britain. Since this was why Licinius had sent him in the first place, Gaius was hardly surprised." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The meeting with Domitian afterwards was brief. On his way to another engagement, the Emperor was already removing the gorgeous toga, but he stopped long enough to give Gaius a careless word of thanks.\n\n\"You've been in the army?\" he asked.\n\n\"As a tribune with the Second Legion. I had the privilege of serving under you in Dacia,\" Gaius said carefully.\n\n\"Hmm... Well, I suppose we'll have to find you something to do in the Provinces then,\" said the Emperor without much interest, turning away.\n\n\"Dominus et Deus,\" said Gaius, saluting, and hated himself for saying the words.\n\nOn the way home Gaius shared a litter with Clodius Malleus. It was the first time they had been able to talk privately all day.\n\n\"And what did you think of the Senate?\" the older man asked.\n\n\"It made me proud to be a Roman,\" Gaius answered truthfully.\n\n\"And the Emperor?\"\n\nGaius was silent. After a moment he heard the Senator sigh. \"You have seen how things are,\" Malleus said softly. \"Such patronage as I have to offer must be given carefully, at least for now. But if you are willing to face the risks that this bond might bring you, along with its potential rewards, I would be happy to accept you among my clients. I can arrange for you to serve as Procurator for army supplies in Britannia. Ordinarily it would be somewhere else in the Empire, but I think you would be most useful to us in the land that you know best.\"\n\nThat collegial'us\" made something in Gaius that the Emperor's lack of interest had chilled awaken to warmth again. The Rome that his father and Licinius had taught him to honor might be dead, but it seemed to Gaius that under the leadership of such men as Malleus and Agricola the spirit of Rome might revive." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I would be honored,\" he said into the silence, and knew that like the decision he had made after Mons Graupius, this choice would determine the course of his life from now on." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The priestesses worshipped at the new moon in the Sacred Grove behind the Forest House, following a ritual that men had not invented and were not allowed to see. Caillean watched as the novices filed into complete the circle, feeling rather like a mother hen counting her chicks, or perhaps, observing the pale glimmer of their gowns in the half-light, cygnets about to become swans.\n\nFora moment there was silence as the circle was completed. She moved into position before the stone cairn that was their altar, Dieda to her left and Miellyn to her right, in the place that was usually her own. But tonight Eilan was sick with cramps and the place of the High Priestess had fallen to Caillean. It felt strange to stand here, and strange not to feel the younger woman's familiar energy balancing her own.\n\nDieda lifted her hand, and the silence was broken by a shimmer of silver bells.\n\n\"Hail to thee, thou new moon, guiding jewel of gentleness,\" sang the maidens, nearly around dozen, all of them come to the Forest House since Eilan had become High Priestess. The most recent arrivals had been drawn by Dieda's music. When old Ardanos had schemed to get his two kinswomen into Vernemeton he had wrought better than he knew. Caillean listened to those pure voices offering their praise to heaven and sighed in pure content.\n\n\"I am bending to thee my knee,\n\nI am offering thee my love;\n\nI am bending to thee my knee,\n\nI am giving thee my hand\n\nI am lifting to thee mine eye\n\nOh, new moon of the seasons!\"\n\nWith each phrase they were bending, then reaching upward in supplication, eyes fixed on the silver sickle above, so that their chanting became a dance. Now they began slowly to move sunwise around the circle, arms uplifted to the sky." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hail to thee, thou new moon,\n\nJoyful maiden of my love!\n\nHail to thee, thou new moon\n\nJoyful maiden of the graces!\n\nThou art traveling in thy course,\n\nThou art showing us thy shining face,\n\nOnew moon of the seasons!\"\n\nCaillean let her gaze unfocus and allowed the rhythm of the chanting to carry her ever deeper into trance. Each time it grew easier. There had been a barren period in her life when nothing seemed to have meaning anymore. But thanks to the Goddess, that seemed to be over. With the ending of her blood cycles, the floodgates of her spirit had opened, and with each season she felt evermore strongly the tides of power.\n\nAnd it is because of you, Eilan, she thought, sending her awareness winging towards the dark bulk of the Forest House beyond the trees. Can you hear how sweetly your daughters are singing now?\n\nUnbidden, her own arms were opening; the girls that circled the altar seemed to move in a haze of light.\n\n\"Thou queen-maiden of guidance,\n\nThou queen-maiden of good fortune,\n\nThou queen-maiden, my beloved new moon of the seasons!\"\n\nOnce more the bells shivered sweetly and the singing faded to silence; but it was a charged silence now, pregnant with power. Caillean reached out and felt the shock of completion as the other two grasped her hands; a second shift told her that the maidens had joined hands in a circle around them.\n\n\"Know, O my sisters, that the moon power is the Power of women, the light that shines in the darkness, the tides that rule the inner planes. The maiden moon governs all growth and all beginnings, and so it is that we draw on her power for those purposes for which our help has been requested. Sisters, are you willing to lend your energy to the work that we do now?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was a murmur of assent from the circle, and Caillean planted her feet more firmly in the cool grass.\n\n\"We call upon the Goddess, the Lady of Life, whose garment is the starry heavens; She is the virgin bride, the mother of all living, the wisdom beyond the circles of the world. She is all goddesses, and all the goddesses are one Goddess; in all Her phases, in all our faces, as She shines in the heavens, She shines within us all!\" It was as if she sought to breathe against the wind. \"Goddess, hear us-\" she called.\n\n\"Goddess, be near us-\" the others echoed her.\n\n\"Goddess, hear us now!\" The tension was almost unbearable; she could feel it thrilling through the hands braced against her own.\n\n\"For the healing of Bethoc, mother of Ambigatos, we raise this power!\"\n\nShe heard Dieda intone the first note of the healing chord and a quarter of the circle joining her, the sound low and thrilling as a harp string, but deeper, sweeter, louder, continuing on and on. Then came the second note; now half the circle was singing; and the third, as the chord built and was completed on a high note above which Dieda's voice rose in a clear descant like a lark winging into the sky. It was a principle used by the harpers of Eriu in their magic, but it had been Eilan's idea to apply it to singing, and Dieda who worked out the technique of it and taught the girls. It was like being inside a harp to stand in the midst of that singing. And gradually, as their voices blended, Caillean began to touch the spirits of the others as well." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I am soaring with wings of light. Caillean could not tell whose thought that had been, nor did it matter, for at this moment when they were linked together she felt the same.\n\nI see rainbows around the moon... in the sunlight... in the waterfall... all the world is shimmering...\n\nCool water... a fire's warmth... softness of a duckling's down... my mother's arms...\n\nIn this melding of sound all the senses were confounded. Only Dieda's mind remained distinct from the others-critical, and still unsatisfied.\n\nBreathe now, and hold... Tanais is wavering. Wait, wait-Rhian should come in now with the fifth note-that's better. Now let's lift it, moving up the scale-stay with me, all of you-maintain the harmony!\n\nThe last irregularities disappeared. The women's joined voices moved upward together to become the Voice of the Goddess. Fora time even Dieda's inner monologue ceased. Caillean felt some tension in the other woman relax as the chord vibrated with inhuman intensity. And though Caillean herself was self-taught, and had no words to describe the rightness of what she heard, she was singer enough to apprehend the ecstasy of a trained musician experiencing perfect harmony.\n\nIt took an effort for Caillean to collect herself, to reach out to the energy that was pulsing around her and gather it in, holding in her mind the image of the sick woman they were working for. She could see it now, a mist of power that grew brighter with every breath.\n\nCaillean drew the Power inward, projecting upon it the image until they could all see it, shimmering above the pile of stones. The sound built until it seemed she could bear it no longer. Her arms were rising-all their arms were lifting unbidden as the Power fountained upward in a pillar of light, a surge of pure sound to send strength to the sick woman. And then it was gone. They settled back, breathing as if they had been running, knowing they had succeeded." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They raised the Power twice more that night for healing, and a last time, gently, to replenish some of the energy they had lost. When it was over, a measure of peace had returned even to Dieda's eyes. And then, with a final murmur of thanks, they filed back to the Forest House for food and bed. But Caillean, tired as she was, went to the separate building where the High Priestess had her chambers to tell Eilan how it had gone.\n\n\"You do not have to tell me-\" said Eilan as Caillean came into her room. \"Even from here I could hear you, I could feel the Power.\" The older woman looked lit up from within.\n\n\"It's true, Eilan. This is the work we were meant for! When I was a child serving Lhiannon, this is the kind of thing I dreamed of, but then the Druids penned us up here, and the vision was lost. With all my knowledge, I did not know how to find it again until you showed me the way.\"\n\n\"You would have found it...\" Eilan sat up in bed and forced a smile. She still felt out of sorts and achy, as she often did at this time of the moon. More and more, she had become convinced that in ages past Caillean had been one of the greatest of priestesses. So much of what they were doing now in the Forest House came in spurts of certainty, as if they were not inventing it, but remembering. She supposed that she herself had been a priestess too, but while she had vision, there were times when Caillean was able to summon up an amazing power. \"I have often thought that you should have been chosen High Priestess instead of me.\"\n\nCaillean gave her a quick glance. \"Once, I would have thought so too,\" she said. \"I do not want it now.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Sensible woman!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But none the less, if you had to, you could do it.\" There was more silver now in Caillean's dark hair, thought Eilan, but otherwise she looked little different from the woman who had delivered Mairi's child ten years ago.\n\n\"Well, I don't have to do it now,\" Caillean said briskly. \"Only to get a few decisions out of you! We have had a rather odd request. A strange fellow from that Roman sect they call Christians wants to live in the old hut in the forest. He calls himself a hermit. Shall I say he may stay there or send him away?\"\n\n\"He may as well,\" said Eilan, considering. \"I don't intend to send anymore of our women therefor punishment, nor, I suppose, do you, and the Ravens have all found new hiding places.\" It gave her a pang to think of a stranger living in the place where she had borne and suckled her child, but there was no point in sentimentality.\n\n\"Very well,\" said Caillean. \"And if Ardanos objects I can point to the precedent set when they let Christians build the chapel of the white thorn on the Isle of Apples below the Sacred Well.\"\n\n\"Have you been there?\" Eilan asked.\n\n\"Long ago, when I was much younger,\" Caillean replied. \"The Summer Country is a strange land, all marsh and lake and meadow. If there's any rain at all, the Tor turns to an island. Mist lies on the land sometimes so that you think the next turning will bring you to the Otherworld; and then a flare of sunlight cuts through the clouds and you seethe holy Tor with its ring of stones.\"\n\nListening to Caillean, Eilan felt as if she could almost see it. Then she was seeing it, in a flash of vision as unexpected as it had been transitory-but Caillean had been in the vision too, gliding through the mists towards the hill in a flat-bottomed boat poled by the little dark men of the hills, with several of the novice priestesses huddled in the stern. But Caillean stood upright, with gold upon her neck and brow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Caillean,\" she began, and from the widening of the other woman's eyes, something of what she had seen must have shown in her face, \"you will be High Priestess on the Isle of Apples." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I have seen it. You will take the women there.\"\n\n\"When-\" Caillean began, and Eilan shook her head.\n\n\"I don't know!\" She sighed, for the vision, as so often happened, had been only a glimmering. \"But it sounds a safe place, hidden from Roman eyes. Perhaps we should think about installing some priestesses there.\"\n\nGaius's new position kept him much on the move about the country. Since for the time, the main supply depot had been established at Deva, now occupied by the Twentieth Legion, it made sense for him to move his family to a pleasant estate that they called Villa Severina, south of the town. Julia was not happy about leaving Londinium, but she settled into country life with a stoic resignation, and a year after their arrival in the West gave birth to twin girls whom she named matter-of-factly Tertia and Quarta. The latter was so tiny they soon took to calling her Quartilla instead.\n\n\"But why?\" asked Licinius. The old man had come to pay a visit to see his new granddaughters.\n\n\"Can't you guess?\" Julia asked, but without humor. \"If she were a jug, we would have to name her half-pint, not quart at all.\" Her father looked at her oddly, and she realized that it was not much of a joke-but then Quartilla was not much of a baby.\n\nShe found it hard to warm to the twins. When her belly grew so large, she had been certain she was about to bear Gaius a strapping son at last. Surely to go through such a hard labor with no more result than a pair of daughters, one of whom was sickly, was a reason for depression?\n\nShe recovered slowly, for she had been much torn during the delivery, and when it became clear that she could not nurse these children herself, gave them up to wet nurses with hardly a pang. The sooner she was fertile once more, the sooner she could try again fora son. The Greek physician had hinted that it might be dangerous, but he was only a slave, and Julia's threats kept him from saying anything to Gaius or her father." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Next time, she swore, I will build a temple to Juno in Deva if I have to-but next time it will be a boy!\n\nYet, as the children grew, Julia became accustomed to living most of the time among the gentle hills south of Deva and staying in her father's house in Londinium only during the wintertime. Licinius loved the children, and was already looking around for families with whom to ally them in marriage.\n\nGaius was a somewhat indifferent father, but she had expected no more. She knew that when she was unwell he sometimes slept with one of the slave girls, but so long as he did his duty in her bed as well she could hardly object to it. She had married to gain the status of a matron and to give her father an heir. Her relationship with Gaius was one of mutual respect and affection; fora Roman girl of good family anything else would have been unseemly.\n\nObserving the scandals and divorces that occurred even in the pale imitation of Roman society that was Londinium, it seemed to her that she and Gaius were one of the few couples who had managed to preserve the old Roman values. Her marriage was a good one, and there were even times, seeing her daughters playing together in the garden of the villa, their bright tunics like flowers against the greenery, when Julia felt that perhaps she had not done so badly as a mother.\n\nAnd soon after the twins celebrated their second birthday, she was pregnant once more.\n\nAfter along rainy spell, when the children chafed and whined at being kept inside, the weather had turned warm at last. Julia sat on the veranda they had built along the front of the house when they added the wings to either side. Ostensibly she was going over the household accounts, but actually she was dozing in the sunshine. Her hands rested lightly on the round of her belly, where she could sense the movements of the child within, surely a son. He had not moved much lately and she supposed that the warm weather had made the baby as torpid as she was." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Julia lay still, eyes half-closed against the sunshine, listening to the singing of the birds and the voices of the household slaves as they busied themselves about the tasks of the farm." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius used to say that Julia's household always ran with the efficiency of a Legion making camp. She knew without checking where each of her servants would be and what he or she would be doing at each hour of the day.\n\n\"... playing in the garden.\" That was the voice of the strapping Gaulish girl whose job it was to keep track of the children.\n\n\"That they are not!\" Old Lydia, who ran the nursery, replied. \"The twins are eating their noon meal, and Cella is helping the cook make pies. But Secunda is just at that age when if they are unwatched they will go exploring-\"\n\n\"She was in the garden...\" the girl said weakly.\n\n\"And where were you? Flirting with the master's groom again?\" Lydia replied. \"Well, she can't have gone far. You get out there and find her, and I will call some of the men to help you. But I promise to personally see you whipped if any harm has come to the child! What were you thinking of? You know the mistress must not be worried with her time so near!\"\n\nJulia frowned, debating whether to getup and speak to them. But this pregnancy had sapped her energy and her will, and surely Secunda would turn up soon.\n\nIn the distance she heard more voices, and Gaius's deep tones questioning. Good, she thought then, they have got him out looking. It is high time he bestirred himself more on the children's behalf.\n\nShe lay back again, knowing that she ought to relax for the sake of her unborn child, but as the moments wore on, she found tension bringing her upright again. She could hardly hear the calling now. How far had Secunda gone?\n\nThe shadow on the sundial had moved almost to the next hour when she heard muted voices and footsteps crunching on the gravel of the path. They had found her then-but why were they so silent? Secunda ought to have been wailing if her father had paddled her as she deserved. A chill swept through Julia's body. She hauled herself upright, clinging to the pillar, as the little procession emerged from among the trees." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She saw Gaius's dark head and tried to call out to him, but words would not come. Then the gardener moved aside and she saw that he was holding Secunda in his arms. But even asleep she had never seen her little girl lie so still.\n\n\"Why isn't she moving?\" Her lips twitched soundlessly.\n\nGaius came forward, his face working, already blotched with tears. More water dripped from Secunda's pink gown, and her black curls were plastered tight to her skull. Julia stared, shock sending ice through her veins.\n\n\"She was in the stream,\" he said hoarsely, \"at the edge of the field. I tried to breathe life back into her. I tried...\" He swallowed, looking down at the small closed face, pale as marble now.\n\nNo, thought Julia numbly, Secunda would never breathe again. She blinked, wondering why the world had gone so dim around her. Then she felt a wrenching pain in her belly.\n\nThe next few hours were a confusion of grief and pain. She remembered hearing Gaius swear he would have the Gaulish girl flayed, and Licinius trying to calm him. Something was wrong with Secunda... She tried to getup and go to her, but her women kept pushing her back down. And then the ache in her belly would begin again. In her more lucid moments Julia knew this was wrong. She was familiar with the pangs of labor, but she was barely six months along. Gods, if you have any mercy, make it stop. You took my daughter-don't let me lose my son!\n\nIt was nearly dawn when she convulsed and felt a last hot gush of blood between her thighs. Lydia bent over her, swearing softly. Julia felt the pressure as the woman jammed more cloths between her legs to stop the bleeding. But fora moment she had glimpsed something else, something small and purplish that did not move." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My son.\" Her whisper was a thread of sound. \"Let me hold him, please!\"\n\nWeeping, Lydia brought something wrapped in a bloody cloth and laid it in the curve of her arm. The face had been wiped clean, and she could seethe tiny, perfect features, like the petals of a blighted rose.\n\nShe was still holding him when they finally let Gaius into see her.\n\n\"The gods hate me,\" she whispered, tears sliding from her eyes.\n\nHe knelt beside the bed, lifted the damp hair from her brow and kissed her with more tenderness than she expected. Fora moment he looked down at the stillborn child, and then, gently, he drew a fold of cloth across its face and lifted it. She made a convulsive movement to stop him, but she could barely move. Fora moment he stood with the child in his arms, like any father about to acknowledge his new-born son, then handed the still form to Lydia to takeaway.\n\nJulia turned her face into the pillow, sobbing. \"Let me die! I have failed, let me die!\"\n\n\"That's not true, my poor darling. You still have three little girls who need you. You must not weep so.\"\n\n\"My baby, my little boy is dead!\"\n\n\"Hush, my love.\" Gaius tried to soothe her, looking at his father-in-law, who had come into the room behind him, in appeal. \"We are not yet old, my dear. If the gods will it, we may yet have many children-\"\n\nLicinius bent down to kiss her as well. \"And if you have no son, my dear child, what of that? You have been a better child tome than many sons, that I vow to you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You must think of our living children now,\" said Gaius.\n\nJulia felt despair well up in her. \"You never paid any attention to Secunda. Why should you care about the others now? You only care that I have lost your son.\"\n\n\"No,\" Gaius said very quietly, \"I do not need you to give me a son. You must sleep now.\" He got to his feet, looking down at her. \"Sleep heals many griefs, and in the morning you will feel differently.\"\n\nBut Julia, remembering the delicately carved features of her little boy, did not really hear.\n\nAs the slow weeks of Julia's recovery wore on, Gaius found that he was saddened more by her grief than any feelings of his own. He had been away from home when Secunda was born, and had no great attachment to her. Nor could he bring himself to grieve overmuch for one of four girls.\n\nYet when he thought of the son they had lost, he could not help thinking about his son by Eilan. In Roman society, adoption of a healthy boy from another family was a traditional solution. If Julia had no male children, and after a consultation with the physician that began to seem improbable, she was less likely to object if he claimed Eilan's son. And he was fond of his daughters, although he felt no such bond as he had to his first-born boy.\n\nBut there was time and enough for that once Julia had her health again. Hoping it would at least distract her from her grief, he agreed to take Julia on a pilgrimage to the shrine of the Mother Goddess near Venta, but the journey did little to help her recover her health and spirits, and when he offered to move the family back to Londinium, she did not want to go." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is here that our children are buried,\" she told him. \"I will not leave them here.\"\n\nGaius privately considered this unreasonable. Despite native beliefs that the land of the Silures held the entrance to the Otherworld, it seemed to him that no earthly place could be nearer or further off than any other to the Land of the Dead, but he gave way to Julia's whim and they remained.\n\nTowards the end of that year news came that Agricola was dead as well.\n\n\"As Tacitus is fond of saying,\" wrote Licinius Corax, \"\"It is a principle of human nature to hate those whom we have injured.\" But even our Divine Emperor could find little in Agricola to justify his anger, and so our friend escaped official disfavor. Indeed, the Emperor was remarkably solicitous throughout Agricola's illness, and though there are those who whisper that the General was taken off by poison, for myself, I think the cause was a heartbroken by witnessing Rome's dishonor. It maybe that he is well out of it, and it is we who will soon wish that we had gone on before. Be glad that you are safely out of sight in Britannia...\"\n\nIn the following year Licinius retired and came to make his home with them, and so they added another wing to the Villa Severina, and the final year of Gaius's service as Procurator for supplies began. He had hoped that when he completed his term of office Senator Malleus would be able to arrange to have him appointed to a higher position, but that year brought disturbing news. The Emperor was growing evermore autocratic and suspicious. As a military leader he had been reasonably successful, but he seemed to take his successes as proof of divine favor, and was doing his best, wrote Licinius's cousin Corax, to destroy what power remained to the patrician class." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius wondered if this would be the spark that set the embers of rebellion aflame, but the next thing they heard was that Herennius Senecio and several others had been executed for treason.\n\nGaius understood that his career was likely to be on hold for sometime. His patron Senator Malleus, while not accused, had found it prudent to retire to his estates in Campania. And so, when Gaius completed his term as Procurator, he put off the visit to Rome with which he had planned to follow it and, like his patron, decided to devote himself fora time to developing the productivity of his lands.\n\nNow he began at last to establish a stronger friendship with his remaining daughters, but Julia remained depressed and sickly. Though they still shared abed, it was becoming ever clearer that she was unlikely to give him a son.\n\nBy now Eilan's child would be ten years old. Even a father who was not precisely in the Emperor's favor could guarantee the child a better future than a British priestess who must hide the very fact of his existence, and surely Julia would rather raise a son of his than a stranger's child-although he could never be quite sure what Julia would feel. But after all, Gaius could assure her-and it would be the truth-that the boy had been fathered before he ever set eyes on her.\n\nThe Forest House was scarcely an afternoon's ride away. His son could be living just over the next hill, reflected Gaius, gazing southward through the trees. But he found himself oddly afraid to face Eilan again. Did she hate Rome? Did she hate him? The girl he had loved when he was a boy was gone, transformed into the terrible Priestess of Vernemeton. Sometimes it seemed to him that the woman he had married was gone too, all the playfulness that had attracted him dead with her son." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius had been reasonably successful in his career, though he had hardly fufilled his father's dreams. But it occurred to him that he had little to love. In his life he had often been lonely, but his father's discipline, or that of the army, had kept him too busy to worry about it. But as the year wore on Gaius found that though managing the estate exercised his body it left his mind free to roam, and he was haunted by dreams of his childhood.\n\nPerhaps it was all the time he was putting in on the land that was stimulating his memories from that age when all the world was wonderful and new. He had not allowed himself to think about his mother when he was a child, but he dreamed of her now. He felt her holding him, heard her sweet lullabies and woke in tears, calling to her not to leave him alone.\n\nBut she had gone away to the Land of the Dead, and Eilan had left him for the Goddess she served, and now Julia was withdrawing from him as well. Would there ever be anyone, he wondered, who could simply love without trying to change him, whose love would endure?\n\nThen Gaius would remember how he had felt when he held his son in his arms. But whenever he began planning how to find the boy, he would flinch from the possibility that when they did meet, his son would not care after all. And so he did nothing.\n\nOne day when Gaius was riding out after the wild pigs that had been rooting in his gardens he realized that he had reached the woodland above the Forest House where Eilan had given birth to their son and found himself reining his horse down the path. He knew that Eilan would not be there, but perhaps there was someone who could give him news of her. Even if she hated him, she could hardly refuse to give him news of their son." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At first he thought the place deserted. The promise of spring was blushing in the branches with their hard buds of green, but the thatched roof of the hut was ragged and weather-bleached, and the ground littered with sticks blown down in the last storm and last year's dead leaves. Then he saw a thin haze of smoke filtering up through the thatching. His pony snorted as he reined in and a man peered out at him. \"Welcome, my son,\" he said. \"Who are you and why have you come?\"\n\nGaius gave his name, eyeing the fellow curiously. \"And who might you be?\" he asked. The man was tall, with a sun-browned face and night-dark hair, dressed in a coarse goat-hair robe above an untidy straggle of beard.\n\nGaius wondered if he were some homeless wanderer who had taken refuge in the unused building; then he saw the crossed sticks that hung from the man's neck on a thong and realized he must be some kind of Christian, perhaps one of those hermits who were, in the last two or three years, springing up from one end of the Empire to the other. Gaius had heard of them in Egypt and Northern Africa, but it was strange to see one here. \"What are you doing here?\" he asked again.\n\n\"I have come to minister to God's lost ones,\" the hermit answered. \"In the world I was known as Lycias; now I am called Father Petros. Surely God has sent you tome because you are in need. What can I do for you?\"\n\n\"How do you know it was God who sent me to you?\" Gaius asked, amused in spite of himself by the man's simplicity.\n\n\"You're here, aren't you?\" asked Father Petros." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He shrugged and Petros went on. \"Believe me, my son, nothing happens without the knowledge of the God who set the stars in their places.\"\n\n\"Nothing?\" Gaius said with a bitterness that surprised him. He realized that at some point during the past three years, perhaps when he heard of the death of Agricola, or perhaps while he was watching Julia's suffering, he had ceased to believe in the gods. \"Then perhaps you can tell me what kind of deity would take a son, and a daughter, from a mother who loved them?\"\n\n\"Is that your trouble?\" Father Petros pulled the door wider. \"Come in, my son. Such matters are not explained in a breath, and your poor beast looks tired.\"\n\nA little guiltily, Gaius remembered how far the pony had carried him. When he had tethered the animal with along enough lead to let it reach the dry grass, he went in.\n\nFather Petros was setting out cups on a rough table. \"What can I offer you? I have beans and turnips and even some wine; the weather is such, here, that I cannot fast as often as I did in a warmer climate. I drink nothing but water, myself, but I am permitted to offer these worldly things to such guests as come tome.\"\n\nGaius shook his head, realizing he had happened upon a philosopher. \"I will try your wine,\" he said, \"but I tell you plainly: you will never convince me your god is either all-powerful or good. For if he were all-powerful, why can he not prevent suffering? And if he can and does not, why should men worship him?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Father Petros, \"I can tell by that question that you have been trained in the Stoic philosophy; for the words are theirs. But the philosophers are wrong about the nature of God.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And you, of course, are right?\" Gaius's tone was belligerent.\n\nFather Petros shook his head. \"I am only a poor minister to such children as seek my counsel. The only Son of God was crucified and returned from the dead to save us; that is all I need to know. Those who believe in Him will live eternally in glory.\"\n\nIt was the usual childish oriental legend, Gaius thought, remembering what he had heard about the cult in Rome. He supposed he could see why the story appealed to slaves and even a few women of good family. Suddenly it occurred to him that this fellow's ramblings might interest Julia, or at least give her something to think about. He set down his cup.\n\n\"I thank you for your wine, Father, and for your story,\" he said. \"May my wife call upon you? She is devastated with grief for our daughter.\"\n\n\"She will be welcome whenever she comes,\" Father Petros replied graciously. \"I am only sorry I have not convinced you. I haven't, have I?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid not.\" Gaius was a little disarmed by the man's regret.\n\n\"I am not much of a preacher,\" said Father Petros, looking somewhat crestfallen. \"I wish Father Joseph were here; I am sure he could convince you.\"\n\nGaius thought it highly unlikely, but he smiled politely. Ashe turned to go, there was a knock at the door.\n\n\"Ah, Senara? Do come in,\" the hermit said.\n\n\"I see you have someone with you,\" a girl's voice replied. \"I'll come another time, if I may.\"\n\n\"It's all right, I'm just leaving.\" Gaius pushed aside the flap of leather that covered the door. Before him was one of the prettiest young girls he had seen at least since his first sight of Eilan, so long ago. But of course he too had been very young then. She was about fifteen, he thought, with hair the color of copper filings in a blacksmith's fire and eyes very blue, dressed in an undyed linen gown." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Then he looked at her again and realized where he had seen her before." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Despite the Celtic coloring, there was a distinct look of his father's old secretary Valerius in the line of her nose and jaw. That would explain her knowledge of Latin.\n\nIt was not until he was untying his horse that he realized he could have asked-what was it the hermit had called her, Senara?-how he might arrange a meeting with Eilan. But by that time the doorflap had closed behind her, and one of the few things he knew about women-not that he knew that much, and since his marriage he felt he knew even less-was that it was never wise to ask one woman about another.\n\nIt was well past sunset by the time Gaius reached the villa, but Julia's greeting, if subdued, was friendly. Licinius was already awaiting them in the dining room.\n\nMacellia and Tertia were playing with a toy chariot on the veranda; they had dressed Julia's pet monkey in baby clothes, and were trying to stuff it into the chariot. He rescued the little animal and handed it to Julia. Sometimes he wondered how three small girls and one woman, with only seven servants, could make so much chaos in one house.\n\nThe little girls screamed, \"Papa! Papa!\" and Quartilla came running to join them. Gaius hugged them all round, called for Lydia to take charge of them, then went into the dining room with Julia.\n\nShe still had the monkey on her shoulder; it was about the size of a baby, and for some reason, seeing it dressed in baby clothes annoyed him. He couldn't imagine what Julia wanted with the creature; it was a hot-weather animal and had to be cosseted as if it really were a child. Of all places to keep such a pet, Britain was certainly the worst; even in summer, he supposed, it was too cold for the little animal. \"I wish you'd get rid of that wretched beast,\" he snapped irritably as they sat down to the meal." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her eyes watered. \"Secunda was so fond of it,\" she whispered.\n\nThe comment made him wonder, not for the first time, if Julia had lost her mind. Secunda had been six years old when she died, and he didn't think she had ever paid the slightest attention to the monkey. Still, if it pleased Julia to think so... Seeing Licinius's warning glance from across the table, he sighed and abandoned the subject.\n\n\"What were you doing today?\" she asked, making an obvious effort to speak cheerfully as the servants brought in the boiled eggs, a platter of smoked oysters and salt fish, and a selection of salad greens dressed with olive oil.\n\nGaius swallowed apiece of onion too quickly and coughed, mentally editing his day. He reached across the table fora fragrant roll of fresh bread. \"I was trying to track those wild pigs and ended upon the other side of the hills,\" he began. \"The old hut in the woods down there has anew tenant, some kind of a hermit.\"\n\n\"A Christian?\" asked Licinius dubiously. He had never had any good to say of the oriental cults that were invading Rome.\n\n\"Apparently so,\" said Gaius neutrally, letting the girl take his plate away while others brought in the dish of ducklings sauced with plums soaked in sweet wine. He dabbled his fingers in the bowl of scented water and wiped them. \"At any rate he believes that his god rose from the dead.\"\n\nLicinius snorted, but Julia's eyes filled with tears. \"Does he really?\" The helpless look in her eyes wrung Gaius's heart even while it exasperated him. Whatever gives her comfort. He put down the duck wing, turning on his dining couch to face her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Do you think he would let me come and speak to him?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Will you allow me to go?\" she asked pleadingly.\n\n\"My dear Julia, I want you to do whatever will give you comfort.\" He meant it in all sincerity. \"Whatever makes you happy will please me.\"\n\n\"You are so good tome.\" Her eyes filled with tears again. She gulped apologetically, and fled from the room.\n\n\"I don't understand her,\" admitted Licinius. \"I raised her to live a virtuous life and honor her ancestors. I loved the child too, but all of us will die one day, be it late or soon. I chose well for my girl,\" he added. \"You have been kinder to her than I could be, even though she did not give you a son.\"\n\nGaius sighed and reached for the wine. He felt like a monstrous deceiver, but held his peace. He had become responsible for this woman's happiness, and to hurt her feelings was the first of many things he did not want to do. But he could not help thinking that Eilan would never have been foolish enough to be seduced by some Christian monk's ramblings.\n\nWhen the sweets had been cleared away, Gaius went to the room where Julia was supervising as the little girls were put to bed. Gaius was glad to seethe monkey had escaped; feeling very mean-spirited, he hoped it would runoff and, if they were lucky, get caught by a marauding dog.\n\nThe slave trimmed the wick and he and Julia stood fora moment, watching the soft light flickering on smooth cheeks and dark lashes. Julia spoke a phrase of blessing, and touched the amulet against fire that hung on the wall. Of late she had become very superstitious. Of course afire would be disastrous, but the house was newly built and not at all drafty. On the whole he had rather more faith in the fire-fighting abilities of their household slaves than inmost goddesses or charms." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As they came out into the hallway, she said, \"I think I will go to bed now.\"\n\nGaius patted her shoulder and kissed the cheek she presented. He might have expected that. The idea was that by the time he came to bed she would be-or pretend to be-so deeply asleep that he would not disturb her. He might as well not have a wife at all. And how could she expect him to give her another child if she would not sleep with him?\n\nBut it was pointless to censure her. He wished her a goodnight and turned towards his office in the other wing of the villa, where a scroll containing the latest installment of Tacitus's Life of Agricola was waiting for him.\n\nAnd there he discovered where Julia's monkey had taken refuge; it was on his desk and had defecated, evil-smelling monkey excrement, allover his papers. He shouted with rage, grabbed the little beast and flung it with all his force into the yard. He heard an odd crunch and then a whimper, then nothing more.\n\nGood. If the creature was dead, he would not mourn; and tomorrow he would have no compunction in telling Julia that a dog must have caught it. The Christian priest could comfort her, though he had heard that they preferred to have nothing to do with women. At the moment, he wished that he need not either." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius woke in the early morning. Today, whatever else happened, he must do something about finding his son. Ardanos must know how to contact his granddaughter. He was not anxious to talk to the old man, whom he suspected of being as much a fanatic in his own way as Father Petros, but he could see no alternative. The only problem that remained was how to find Ardanos, who no longer lived near Deva.\n\nBut while he lay contemplating the problem, he heard a peremptory knock on the front gate, and his steward complaining as he went to answer it. Gaius threw on a robe and slid out of bed, carefully, so as not to wake Julia. A legionary was waiting in the front courtyard with a request from Macellius fora visit. Gaius raised one eyebrow. Officially, his father was retired, but he was aware that the old man had made himself a trusted adviser to the Twentieth Legion's young Commander.\n\nIf he was gone when Julia discovered the death of her monkey, he would not have to face her tears. Gaius rode through the town and directly to the gates of the fortress, exchanging salutes with the guard on duty, who knew him well from his stint as Procurator.\n\n\"Your father said you would probably arrive before noon,\" said the soldier. \"You'll find him with the Legate in the Praetorium.\"\n\nOn the bench outside the Commander's office he saw a weary-looking woman. She was a Briton of the dark-haired, pale-skinned type like his mother's people; somewhere between thirty and thirty-five, he guessed, dressed in a gown of saffron wool rather lavishly embroidered with gold. Gaius wondered what she had done, and when the legionary on duty ushered him into the presence of the Commander and his father, he put the question." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Her name is Brigitta,\" his father answered with distaste. \"She calls herself Queen of the Demetae. When her husband died, he left his fortune in equal shares to her and to the Emperor, and she seems to feel this gives her the right to rule his kingdom. Sound familiar?\"\n\nGaius licked dry lips. It was common practice fora rich man to split his estate between his own family and the Emperor in hopes that the Imperial co-heir would make sure the other heirs got their share. Agricola had done the same thing.\n\nThe Legate looked from Gaius to his father. Clearly it did not sound familiar to him.\n\n\"Boudicca,\" Gaius said succinctly. \"Her husband tried the same thing, but the Iceni had debts to some fairly prominent senators. When he died, they moved in, and she tried to resist. She and her daughters were rather... badly treated and she raised the tribe in a rebellion that nearly swept us out of this land!\" That was the specter that Macellius was seeing when he looked at the unhappy woman sitting outside, especially since the Demetae were one of the tribes that counted descent through the mother's line.\n\n\"Oh, that Boudicca,\" said the Legate. He was called Lucius Domitius Brutus, and he seemed to Gaius rather young for such a major posting, but he was reputed to be a good friend of the Emperor.\n\n\"That Boudicca,\" Macellius echoed disgustedly. \"So you see, sir, why the tribune over at Moridunum scooped her up as soon as the will was read, and why we cannot simply carryout the terms of the will as they stand, no matter how much they benefit the Emperor.\"\n\n\"On the other hand,\" said Gaius, \"it should also be clear that this woman must be handled like blown glass. I assure you that every native in this country will be waiting to see what we do.\" A thought occurred to him. \"I don't suppose she has children?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A couple of daughters somewhere, I've heard,\" said Macellius wearily, \"but I don't know what has become of them; they are only about three or four, worse luck, or I'd have them properly married off to a citizen. I have no particular stomach for this business of war against women and children; but if women will mingle in politics, what can we do? Rumor has it that she-or those who would like to use her-have sent messages seeking alliance with the Hibernians.\"\n\nGaius shuddered, remembering the raid on Eilan's home. \"Take her to Londinium,\" he suggested. \"If she's sent to Rome her people will think she's a prisoner, but if she's setup in a fine house in the city they may think she's betrayed them. Tell her that unless she lives in Londinium she won't see a sestercius of her husband's gold.\"\n\n\"It might work,\" Macellius said, considering. He turned to the Legate. \"I agree with my son's suggestion. You've already got a detachment ready to strengthen the garrison at Moridunum; they can carry the news.\"\n\n\"She'll be a hostage then,\" Domitius Brutus said. This he could understand.\n\nAshe left the office, it occurred to Gaius that the daughters, however young, could still be a danger. The woman stirred a faint pity; she looked so forlorn.\n\n\"Where are your little girls?\" he asked in the British tongue.\n\n\"Where you will never find them, Roman, and I thank the gods,\" she said. \"Don't you think I know how your legionaries treat young girls?\"\n\n\"Not little children!\" Gaius exclaimed. \"Come now; I am a father myself, with three little daughters about the age of yours. At most we would find them suitable guardians.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I will spare you that trouble,\" she said fiercely. \"They are well taken care of!\"\n\nA legionary came up and touched heron the arm. When she flinched, he ordered, \"Do come along quietly, lady. We don't wish to bind you.\"\n\nShe looked wildly around her, and her gaze settled on Gaius. \"Where are you taking me?\"\n\n\"Only to Londinium,\" he said soothingly. He saw her face crumple, with relief or disappointment he did not know, but she went quietly enough.\n\nThe legionary on guard watched her go and said to Gaius, \"You'd never think she would associate with known agitators, not to look at her now; but when we picked her up, it was reported she'd been seen about with a notorious rebel: Conmor, Cynric, or some such name as that. He's said to be still in the area.\"\n\n\"I know him,\" Gaius said.\n\nThe legionary stared. \"You, sir?\"\n\nGaius nodded, recalling the high-hearted boy who had pulled him out of the boar pit. Was Cynric still in contact with Eilan? If they caught him, Gaius could ask how he could arrange a private meeting.\n\n\"Gods,\" said Macellius, closing the door of the Legate's office behind him and following Gaius down the corridor. \"All this makes me feel old!\"\n\n\"Don't be ridiculous,\" Gaius answered him.\n\n\"The Legate wants me to do something to calm things down among the people. Use my old contacts, he says.\"\n\nPerhaps Brutus was not as stupid as he looked, Gaius thought. Macellius's ability to get co-operation from the tribes had been legendary in his day." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But I'm tired of picking other people's chestnuts out of the fire. Maybe I'll move to Rome. It's been along time since I've seen the city. Maybe I should go to Egypt where I would be warm for once.\"\n\n\"Don't be foolish,\" Gaius chided. \"What would my little girls do without their grandsire?\"\n\n\"Oh, come, they hardly know I'm alive,\" said Macellius. But he seemed pleased. \"Of course if you had a son it would be different.\"\n\n\"I-well, I may have a son one of these days,\" Gaius broke out in a sweat. Macellius himself had told Gaius about Eilan's pregnancy, but when he had seen her and the baby in the hut in the forest, it was clear that the birth had been kept secret. If Macellius did not know that Eilan had borne him a son, Gaius did not think he should tell his father now.\n\nEilan dreamed that she walked beside a lake in a half-light that could have been either dusk or dawn. Alight mist hung above the waters, obscuring the further shore; the mists were silver, and a silver sheen was on the waters; wavelets lapped softly against the shore. It seemed that across the water drifted singing, and out of the mists came swimming nine white swans, as fair as the maidens of the Forest House when they saluted the moon.\n\nEilan had never heard anything so beautiful. She moved down to the edge of the lake, stretching out her hands, and the swans circled slowly.\n\n\"Let me come to you, let me swim with you!\" she cried, but from the swans came the answer, \"You cannot come with us; your robes and ornaments weigh you down...\" They began to swim away, and Eilan's heart was torn with loss." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Aid the author, keep the plot going.\nTags: fantasy, historical fantasy, druids\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Forest House\nChapter: 32" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But I'm tired of picking other people's chestnuts out of the fire. Maybe I'll move to Rome. It's been along time since I've seen the city. Maybe I should go to Egypt where I would be warm for once.\"\n\n\"Don't be foolish,\" Gaius chided. \"What would my little girls do without their grandsire?\"\n\n\"Oh, come, they hardly know I'm alive,\" said Macellius. But he seemed pleased. \"Of course if you had a son it would be different.\"\n\n\"I-well, I may have a son one of these days,\" Gaius broke out in a sweat. Macellius himself had told Gaius about Eilan's pregnancy, but when he had seen her and the baby in the hut in the forest, it was clear that the birth had been kept secret. If Macellius did not know that Eilan had borne him a son, Gaius did not think he should tell his father now.\n\nEilan dreamed that she walked beside a lake in a half-light that could have been either dusk or dawn. Alight mist hung above the waters, obscuring the further shore; the mists were silver, and a silver sheen was on the waters; wavelets lapped softly against the shore. It seemed that across the water drifted singing, and out of the mists came swimming nine white swans, as fair as the maidens of the Forest House when they saluted the moon.\n\nEilan had never heard anything so beautiful. She moved down to the edge of the lake, stretching out her hands, and the swans circled slowly.\n\n\"Let me come to you, let me swim with you!\" she cried, but from the swans came the answer, \"You cannot come with us; your robes and ornaments weigh you down...\" They began to swim away, and Eilan's heart was torn with loss." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan stripped off her heavy gown, her veils and mantle, and cast the golden torque and armlets of the High Priestess aside. As her shadow glimmered in the water, it was the shape of a swan. She cast herself into the lake...\n\nAs the silver waters closed over her head she woke to the familiar timbres of the Forest House in the dim light of dawn. Fora few moments Eilan sat still, rubbing her eyes. This was not the first time she had dreamed of the lake and the swans. Each time, it seemed harder to return. She had told no one of her trouble. She was High Priestess of Vernemeton, not some silly girl to be frightened by an odd dream. But each time it happened the dream was more vivid, and the role she played while waking more and more unreal.\n\nSomeone was pounding on a door. Oddly, it was the gateway to her garden. Faintly she could hear the voice of the young priestess who guarded it raised in protest.\n\n\"Who the mischief do you think you are? You cannot simply walk in from nowhere and ask to seethe High Priestess, certainly not at this hour.\"\n\n\"Forgive me,\" answered a deep voice. \"I think of her still as my foster sister, not the High Priestess. Ask her, please, if she will speak tome!\"\n\nEilan threw on a shawl and hurried out onto the porch. \"Cynric!\" she exclaimed. \"I thought you in the North somewhere!\" She stopped short. Clinging around his neck was a small, dark-haired child of two or three; another girl, perhaps five years old, hid behind his cloak. \"Are they yours?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"They belong to an unfortunate woman, and I have come to beg you to give them shelter in the name of the Goddess.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"To give them shelter?\" Eilan repeated stupidly. \"But why?\"\n\n\"Because they stand in need of it,\" Cynric returned, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.\n\n\"What I meant was, why here? Have they no kindred to care for them? If they are not yours, why have they become your responsibility?\"\n\n\"Their mother is Brigitta, Queen of the Demetae,\" said Cynric uneasily. \"She tried to claim the kingdom when her husband died and is now a prisoner of Rome. We feared her daughters would beheld as hostages, or worse, if they fell into Roman hands.\"\n\nEilan looked at the children and thought of her own son. She pitied their mother with all her heart, but what would Ardanos say? This was one of those times when she could have used Caillean's counsel, but the older woman had gone down to the Summer Country to visit the Sacred Well.\n\n\"You know they are too young to claim for the Goddess.\"\n\n\"All I am asking is that you keep them safe and secure!\" Cynric began, but before he could say anything else there was more noise outside.\n\n\"My lady, you cannot seethe Priestess now; she is with a guest.\"\n\n\"All the more reason I should be with her,\" a voice said, and Dieda came into the garden. At the sight of Cynric she cried out, and he turned hastily to see her. She had been told about his activities when she returned from Eriu, but this was the first time she had seen him.\n\n\"The children are not mine!\" he exclaimed as the color left her face and then flamed back again. \"Queen Brigitta sent them here for sanctuary.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"They should betaken to the House of Maidens, then,\" said Dieda, mastering herself, and held out her hand. But her eyes were still on Cynric.\n\n\"Wait,\" said Eilan. \"I must think. The Forest House cannot afford to entangle itself in anything political.\"\n\n\"Without the consent of the Romans?\" Cynric said scornfully.\n\n\"It is easy for you to jeer,\" Eilan began, \"but you must remember that we exist by sufferance of those Romans you are so ready to dismiss. We should at least consult with the Arch-Druid before we commit ourselves to something that might look like support fora rebellion.\"\n\n\"With Ardanos?\" Cynric spat. \"Why not with the Legate in Deva himself? Maybe we should go to the Governor of Britain and ask his leave.\"\n\n\"Cynric, I have risked a great deal for you and your cause,\" Eilan reminded him soberly. \"But I cannot risk the Forest House by taking in political fugitives without Ardanos's leave.\" A quick word sent her attendant running down the path towards the nearby house that had been built for the Arch-Druid.\n\nCynric said, \"Eilan, do you know the fate to which you will be abandoning these girls?\"\n\n\"Do you?\" she snapped. \"Why are you so sure Ardanos will refuse?\"\n\n\"Regarding what?\" said anew voice, and they all turned, Eilan frowning, Cynric flushed with anger, and Dieda pale with some emotion Eilan could not name. \"Your woman encountered me just outside,\" Ardanos explained.\n\nEilan pointed to the children.\n\n\"There is nothing I can do for Brigitta,\" Ardanos said when she was done. \"She was warned about what would happen if she claimed the right to rule. But she will not be harshly treated; even the Romans would not make that mistake twice in one century. As for the girls, I do not know. They could be trouble, later on.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But not yet,\" said Eilan decisively. \"And I will not hold children responsible for their parents' crimes. Senara and Lia can tend them. If we give them new names and treat them like any other children they should be safe enough fora time. No one will think anything of it.\" She smiled bitterly. \"After all, I have a reputation for sheltering motherless children!\"\n\n\"I suppose so,\" said Ardanos dubiously. \"But Cynric had better get well away. For where he is, I have noticed, trouble follows.\" He glared at the young man, and Dieda went pale. \"The Romans may not care about the girls, but they will certainly be looking for you!\"\n\n\"If they try to interfere with me they may find more trouble than they bargained for,\" Cynric said fiercely.\n\nEilan sighed, thinking that rather than a raven, he should have been called a stormy petrel. But she knew better than to argue with Cynric, or with Dieda. All she could do was to try and keep the peace a little longer. Sometimes it seemed as if the whole weight of Britain lay on her shoulders-and that all her kin were conspiring to keep it there.\n\nSenara was summoned to take the children to their new quarters, and Eilan went onto her duties, leaving Dieda and Cynric to make their farewells. Later that afternoon, she heard weeping in the shed where they dried the herbs. It was Dieda.\n\nThe other woman started up, her eyes blazing, then seemed to deflate when she saw who it was. Although their relationship was no longer close, at least Dieda felt no need to dissemble. But Eilan knew better than to try to touch her or offer comfort." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is it?\" she said.\n\nDieda scrubbed at her eyes with the corner of her veil, making them even redder. \"He asked me to go with him-\"\n\n\"And you refused.\" Eilan kept her voice deliberately neutral.\n\n\"To live the life of an outlaw, always skulking in the forest, afraid of every sound, always wondering if tomorrow I would see him marched off in chains or slain by Roman swords? I could not do it, Eilan! Here at least I have my music, and work to do that I believe in. How could I go?\"\n\n\"Did you tell him so?\"\n\nDieda nodded. \"He said that if I felt that way I could not truly love him; that I was betraying our cause... He said that he needed me...\"\n\nI'm sure he did, the idiot, thought Eilan, and never wondered whether she needs him at all!\n\n\"It is your fault!\" Dieda exclaimed. \"If it were not for you, I would have married him long ago. Then perhaps he would never have become an outlaw!\"\n\nWith an effort, Eilan stopped herself from pointing out that Dieda had sworn the vows of a priestess of her own freewill. Even when Eilan returned to the Forest House after Gawen's birth, she could have gone to Cynric instead of to Eriu. The poor girl did not want logic, she needed someone to blame.\n\n\"And now all I can think of is the way he looked at me! It maybe months or even years before I know how he is, or what is happening to him! At least if I were with him I would know!\" Dieda wailed.\n\n\"I don't suppose you care one way or another for my approval,\" Eilan said softly. \"Whatever you think of my choices, you know that I have learned to live with them. But I too have wept in the darkness, wondering whether I did the right thing. Dieda, you may never be sure-all you can do is the work that is given to you, and hope that the Goddess will explain the reason for it all someday.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dieda's face was turned away, but it seemed to Eilan that her sobs were diminishing.\n\n\"I will tell the maidens that you are ill and cannot take them tonight for the singing,\" she went on. \"No doubt they will be glad of a holiday.\"\n\nIt seemed to Eilan that the problem of Brigitta's children had been solved, but only a few days later, just before the evening meal, her attendant told her that a Roman sought audience.\n\nGaius leapt to mind but a second thought told her he would never dare come here. \"Find out his name and business,\" she said evenly.\n\nIna few moments the girl returned. \"Lady, it is Macellius Severus who begs the favor of a word with you.\" She added, \"He used to be the Camp Prefect of Deva-\"\n\n\"I know who he is.\" Lhiannon had received him once or twice, but Macellius was now retired. What, in the name of all the gods, could he want with her? The only way to find out was to ask. \"Tell him to come in,\" she directed. She straightened her gown and after a moment's thought drew her veil down over her face.\n\nPresently Huw shouldered through the entrance with another man behind him. Gaius's father... the grandfather of her son... From behind the veil Eilan eyed him curiously. She had never seen him before, and yet she would have known him anywhere. Overlapping visions showed her the weathered features of the old man and the strong lines of nose and brow that had been repeated in his son, and were just beginning to emerge from the childish curves in the face of her own.\n\nHuw took up position beside the door and Macellius came to a halt before her. He drew himself up and bowed, and Eilan knew suddenly where Gaius had got his pride." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"My lady.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He used the Roman term, Domina, but his British was quite good otherwise. \"It is very kind of you to receive me-\"\n\n\"Not at all,\" she replied. \"What can I do for you?\" She supposed it had to do with one of the approaching festivals as it had when he had waited upon Lhiannon.\n\nMacellius cleared his throat. \"I understand that you have given sanctuary to the daughters of the Demetan Queen-\"\n\nSuddenly Eilan was very glad that she had put on the veil. \"If that were true,\" she said slowly, desperately wishing that Ardanos or Caillean were hereto help her, \"why would it matter to you?\"\n\n\"If it were so,\" he echoed, \"we would want to know why.\"\n\nThe words of Cynric came into her mind. \"Because it was told tome that they stood in need of it. Can you think of any better reason?\"\n\n\"I cannot,\" he answered her, \"and yet their mother is a rebel who threatened to raise the whole West against Rome. But Rome has been merciful. Brigitta has been sent in protective custody to Londinium, and will not be harmed. Nor have we demanded death for her kin.\"\n\nThe little ones will be glad to know their mother is safe, thought Eilan, remembering how unnaturally silent they had been. But why? Was it possible that Macellius desired peace between Rome and the Britons as much as she?\n\n\"If this is true I am glad to hear it,\" she said, \"but what do you want of me?\"\n\n\"I should think it would be obvious, lady. These girls must not become a rallying point for some future uprising. Brigitta herself is not important, but in times of tension, any pretext will serve.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She said, \"I think you may rest easy on that point; if they were among the maidens of the Forest House no political use would be made of them.\"\n\n\"Not even when they are grown?\" he asked. \"How do we know that they will not be given to men who will try to rule the Demetae by right of marriage to the Queen?\"\n\nHe was right to wonder she thought. It was exactly the sort of thing that Cynric would try. \"How would you avoid it?\"\n\n\"The best way is to have them fostered in loyal Roman homes; and when they are grown, find them good solid husbands with Roman sympathies.\"\n\n\"And that is all that would happen to them in Roman hands?\"\n\n\"That is all,\" Macellius replied. \"My lady, you cannot believe that we make war on babes and little children?\"\n\nShe was silent. That is exactly what I have been brought up to believe.\n\n\"Is it your will that we shall always be paying for atrocities committed by others? On the sacred island, for instance?\" said Macellius, as if he could hear what she was thinking.\n\nThat is what Cynric believes, but the decision is mine. And it is I whom the Goddess must tell what to do. Fora few moments longer Eilan was silent, seeking the inner stillness in which she could hear.\n\n\"It is not,\" she said, \"but I would lose the trust of my own people if I appeared too eager to believe you. I have heard Brigitta's daughters are both still too young for anyone to think of marriage. They have been through a great deal. Surely it would be more merciful to let them stay wherever they area few months, or even a year, until the furor has died down. By then everyone will know how you have treated their mother. Passions will have cooled, and there will be less outcry if people learn they are in your hands.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"And will they then be given to us?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Macellius said, frowning.\n\n\"If all is as you say, I swear by the gods of my tribe that they will.\" Eilan set her hand upon the torque around her neck. \"Prepare to receive them in your house in Deva at the Feast of the Maiden next year.\"\n\nHis face lightened, and Eilan's breath caught as she saw on his lined face Gawen's flickering smile. If only she could tell him who she was, and show him his grandson, safe and strong!\n\n\"I believe you,\" Macellius said. \"I can only hope that the Legate will believe me.\"\n\n\"Vernemeton is hostage for my honesty.\" She gestured around her. \"If I betray it, we are within easy grasp of his hand.\"\n\nHe said, \"Lady, I would kiss yours; but your guard is eyeing me most suspiciously.\"\n\n\"You cannot do that,\" she said, \"but I accept your goodwill, my lord.\"\n\n\"And I yours,\" Macellius said, and bowed once more.\n\nWhen he had gone, Eilan sat fora time in silence, wondering if she had betrayed her people or saved them. Was it for this that the gods had worked to bring her here? Was it for this she had been born?\n\nCaillean returned from the Summer Country late the next day, looking tired but elated. When the older woman had bathed, Eilan sent Senara to ask if she would take her evening meal by Eilan's fire.\n\n\"How that child has grown!\" Caillean commented as Senara went out to fetch the meal. \"It seems just yesterday she came here, and now she is the same age as you were when I first met you, and almost as beautiful!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "With some surprise Eilan realized that Senara was indeed a young woman, old enough for vows; one day soon she should be pledged as a priestess." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There had been no word from the girl's Roman relatives for years, and she had no reason to think there would be any objection. But for this at least there was no hurry.\n\n\"And what have you been doing this bright sunny day, my dear child?\" Caillean asked as Senara set the food down.\n\nA strange look passed over the girl's face. \"I walked by that little house in the forest. Did you know, a hermit has come to live there?\"\n\n\"Indeed, we gave our permission. He is a strange old man from somewhere in the South. Christian, is he not?\"\n\n\"He is,\" Senara answered with that same strange look. \"He has been kind tome.\"\n\nCaillean frowned. Eilan knew that she would say it was not suitable fora priestess of the Forest House to be alone with a man, no matter how staid or elderly. But after all, the girl was not sworn to them; besides, she had heard somewhere that Christian priests swore themselves to chastity. In any case, Eilan thought wryly, she herself was no one to question a young girl's modesty.\n\n\"My mother was a Christian,\" Senara said. \"May I have your permission to visit this priest and take him some food from our kitchen? I would like to learn more about what my mother believed.\"\n\n\"I do not see why not,\" Eilan answered. \"That all the gods are one God is apart of our most ancient teachings. Go, and learn which face of Him the Christians see...\"\n\nThey ate fora time in silence.\n\n\"Something has happened,\" said Eilan finally, watching Caillean's face as she stared into the flames.\n\n\"Perhaps-\" Caillean answered her. \"But I am not entirely sure what it means. The Tor is very powerful, and the lake...\" She shook her head. \"I promise that when I understand what I felt there, you will know. In the meantime-\" Her eyes lost their softness as she looked up at Eilan. \"I am told that something has happened here as well. Dieda says you had a visitor.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Visitors, rather; but I assume you were speaking of Cynric.\"\n\n\"I meant Macellius Severus,\" Caillean said. \"What did you think of him?\"\n\nEilan thought, I could have wished for him as my father-in-law. But she could not, after all, say that to Caillean. She compromised by saying, \"He seems both kindly and fatherly.\"\n\n\"That is how the Romans take more and more of our world,\" said Caillean. \"I would rather they were all evil without compromise. When even you can think well of Macellius, who will rebel?\"\n\n\"Why should we rebel against them? You speak like Cynric.\"\n\n\"I could do worse,\" said Caillean.\n\n\"I do not see how,\" Eilan said resentfully. \"Even if we must have a Roman peace, what is wrong with that? Peace is certainly better than war however it comes.\"\n\n\"Even a peace without honor? A peace in which everything that makes life worth living has been taken away?\"\n\n\"The Romans can be honorable-\" Eilan began, but Caillean interrupted.\n\n\"I would have thought you the last person to say so!\" Her voice trailed off into an appalled silence, as if she had realized that whatever she said could only make it worse.\n\nBut I do say so, thought Eilan, feeling her flush of shame die away. Gaius's mother married Macellius to bring peace, and I let Gaius marry a Roman girl for the same reason. She wondered what sort of person his Roman wife was, and whether she had made him happy. Not all women sought peace, she knew, remembering Boudicca, who had started a rebellion, and Cartimandua, who betrayed Caractacus, and Brigitta, whose daughters she was sheltering, but she had made her decision, and she would standby it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Cynric is wrong,\" she said finally. \"What makes life worth living is not the glory that warriors sing of, but tended cattle and tilled fields and happy children around the fire. I know that the Goddess can be as terrible as a sow-bear when her cubs are threatened, but I think She would rather see us building and growing than killing each other. Isn't that why we have tried to recover the ancient ways of healing here?\"\n\nShe looked up at last and met Caillean's dark eyes, and was startled to see that they held appeal.\n\n\"I have told you the reasons I have to hate men and fear what they can do,\" the older priestess said softly. \"It is very hard sometimes for me to believe in life; it would be so much easier to go down fighting. There are times when you make me ashamed. But when I looked into the Sacred Well, it seemed tome that it overflowed in a hundred little rivulets that sank into the ground and carried its healing power throughout the land. And then, fora little while, I did believe.\"\n\n\"We must do something about that well,\" said Eilan softly, taking Caillean's hand and, like an echo, she seemed to hear the singing of the swans.\n\nThe next time Gaius was in Deva he called upon his father. Over a cup of wine, the talk came round to Brigitta of the Demetae. \"Did you ever find her daughters?\" asked Gaius.\n\n\"Ina manner of speaking,\" his father replied. \"I know where they are, and you will never guess where it is.\"\n\n\"I thought you were going to find them Roman foster parents.\"\n\n\"I will, when the time comes, but for now I think that the Priestess of the Oracles is the best guardian they could have.\" As Gaius gaped, his father went on. \"She is a young woman, and I feared she would sympathize with young hotheads like Cynric, whom, I tell you plainly, I would hang if we could lay hands on him, but she was surprisingly reasonable. As you might guess I have had an informant therefor years, a servant of the priestesses, but this is the first time I have seen the Priestess myself.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What did she look like?\" Gaius's voice cracked, but Macellius did not appear to notice.\n\n\"She was veiled,\" he said. \"But between us we worked it out that she'll keep the girls until tensions have eased, and then turn them over to us to be fostered in Roman homes, and contracted to Roman husbands; I think even Brigitta will be inclined to agree to this, if it is put to her. And I mean to put it to her. I feared that some of the agitators around her would make the girls the cause of another holy war, which, I need hardly tell you, would go hard with us, after Domitian's losses on the frontier.\"\n\nHe paused, and looked hard at his son. \"I wonder sometimes if I made the right choices for you, lad. I thought Vespasian would live longer; he was a good Emperor, and would have seen to your career. After all our planning, you are living on your lands like a British chieftain after all. Even your marriage to Julia-\" He broke off. \"Can you forgive me?\"\n\nGaius stared at him. \"I did not know there was anything to forgive. I have made a life for myself here, and this is my home. Regarding my career, well, there is plenty of time.\"\n\nNo Emperor lives forever, he thought, remembering what Malleus had said in his last letter, but even to his father he would not say that aloud. When he thought of Rome he remembered crowds and filth and the detested toga. He might have liked a little more sun herein Britain; but he felt little desire for southern climes.\n\nAnd as for his lack of a male heir, he wondered if this was the time to tell Macellius about Eilan's son. Was it really she whom his father had seen? It was a great relief to know that she could be so moderate. Even if he could not see her, he knew that she was safe and well. It was not that he did not love his daughters, and Gaius knew that Licinius loved all the children. But Roman law counted only male children. It might not be fair, for in effect he would be disenfranchising little Cella, but the law was the law, like it or not." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the end it seemed safer to say nothing. What remained unspoken-and he had found this out the hard way-he need never regret." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Caillean woke, shaking, to the gray light of early dawn. It was only a dream. But the images were still vivid, more real, even now, than the curtains of her bed and the breathing of the other women nearby. She sat up and stuck her feet into slippers, and then, shivering, took her shawl down from its hook and wrapped it around her.\n\nBut the warm wool did not comfort her. When she closed her eyes she could still seethe expanse of silver water where white mists wreathed and swirled. Eilan stood on the other side, but with each moment the waters grew wider, as if a strong current were carrying her away. It was the emotion that went with the images that terrified her, the overwhelming surge of anguish and loss.\n\nIt is only my own fears speaking, she told herself, a dream that will disappear with the dawn. Not all dreams were prescient. She got up and drank some water from the flask.\n\nIn the end, a grey veil of cloud had swirled between her and Eilan, cutting her off from the world. Death is like that... The thought would not go away. The ordinary fantasies of sleep dissipated like the mist of morning when one awakened. A great dream-a dream of power-became evermore distinct as one puzzled over it. It could not be ignored.\n\nAs the other women began to stir, Caillean realized she could not stay hereto face their curious eyes. Perhaps in the garden she could find the serenity she needed to deal with this. But one thing was clear: she must tell Eilan.\n\nThat year the Beltane celebrations had ushered in a bounteous summer, and the woods around the Forest House were vivid with flowers. Eilan had allowed herself to be persuaded to go out to gather herbs with Miellyn, and Lia and the children had come along. Beneath the trees the creamy primroses and bluebells still flourished, but golden buttercups were already beginning to star the meadows, and white hawthorn hung heavy on the bough." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gawen gleefully showed off his knowledge of the forest to Brigitta's two girls, who hung on every word, wide-eyed and admiring. Eilan smiled, remembering how she and Dieda had followed Cynric about when they were small. Listening to their laughter, she realized how much Gawen had missed having other children to play with, and knew that it was not only the girls who would soon be leaving her. Gawen would have to be fostered out soon.\n\nIt was noon before they returned, flushed and chattering and crowned with flowers. \"Caillean is waiting for you in the garden,\" said Eilidh as Eilan came in. \"She has been sitting there all morning. She would not even come into eat breakfast, but she assures us that nothing is wrong.\"\n\nFrowning, Eilan passed on into the garden without removing her wide-brimmed straw hat, for the day was warm. Caillean was sitting on a bench by the rosemary bed, motionless as if she were meditating, but at Eilan's step she opened her eyes.\n\n\"Caillean, what is it?\"\n\nThe other woman looked up, and Eilan flinched at the utter calm in those dark eyes. \"How many years now have we known one another?\" Caillean asked.\n\nEilan tried to reckon it up in memory; they had met when Mairi's younger child was born. But in truth it seemed longer, and there were times when she remembered those odd glimpses of knowledge that had come to her and thought that they had been sisters in more lives than one.\n\n\"Sixteen years, I think,\" she said at last, doubtfully. It had been near to winter then; but no, it could not be, for the wild Hibernians were raiding, and it was certain they would not sail if they were afraid of being caught by winter storms. It had not been snow, but rain, she remembered. That had been a bad spring. And she had come to the Forest House as a novice priestess the summer that followed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Has it been so long? You are right. Mairi's child is nearly old enough to be wed, and Gawen is eleven winters old.\"\n\nEilan nodded, remembering with sudden vividness how Caillean had visited her in her exile in the hut in the forest, and how the older woman had held her hands and sponged her brow while the child was being born. She had thought those memories would never fade or dim; now they were like a dream long gone by. The work that she and Caillean were doing in the Forest House seemed far more vivid now.\n\n\"And now we have two of Brigitta's daughters within the House,\" Caillean said thoughtfully. \"But within a year they will go to the Romans to be fostered.\"\n\nEilan said, sighing, \"I hate to think Brigitta should lose her children.\"\n\n\"I would waste no sympathy on her,\" Caillean answered her. \"I doubt she lost any sleepover what it would do to her children when she let Cynric persuade her into plotting rebellion.\"\n\nEilan knew this was most likely true; but as a mother she remembered her anguish when Ardanos had taken Gawen away. \"Why do you speak of these things now?\" she asked. \"I cannot believe you have waited here all morning just to count over old memories as a Roman moneylender counts his gold!\"\n\nCaillean sighed. \"There is something I must say to you, and I know not how to say it. So I speak of all manner of meaningless things. Eilan, I have had such warning as they say comes to each priestess before her death. No, I cannot explain-\"\n\nEilan felt cold congealing around her heart, despite the warmth of the sun. \"What do you mean, a warning? Are you in pain? Perhaps Miellyn knows some herbs-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Caillean returned quietly, \"I have had a dream, and I think it means that this life will soon end.\"\n\nCaillean, dying? Stunned, all Eilan could find to say aloud was, \"But how?\"\n\nCaillean replied quietly, \"Truly, I know not how to tell you; perhaps it is something one can understand only when it comes.\"\n\nOh aye, Eilan thought. It is true: I too am a priestess, even if not a very good one. In Caillean's presence she remembered that, though she often doubted it at other times. Since her last meeting with Cynric she had been most aware of herself as a pawn in his combat with the Romans, as with Ardanos she was aware above all else of the way he wished to use her to keep the peace with Rome. For the past few seasons the tribes had been quiet, but she heard tales of troubles among the Romans. Cynric would be quick to take advantage of any weakness if the Romans should rebel against their Emperor. Would Gaius join such a rebellion? Had he ever cared for her for her own sake?\n\nBut with Caillean, from the first moment she had met her, Eilan was above all and only a priestess. When she was with her, Eilan felt that the Goddess might still have some use for her. As deeply as she had loved Gaius she could not help remembering that he had not stood by her. But Caillean had always been there.\n\nShe looked at her sister-priestess helplessly, and thought suddenly, We have been through this before, and I watched her die in pain.\n\nSuddenly Eilan was angry. If she could do nothing about it, why did Caillean want to harrow her feelings by telling her? She looked at the other woman almost with hostility, and saw a flicker of emotion in Caillean's dark eyes, like a hidden current in a pool. Knowledge came to her suddenly. She too is afraid." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She took a deep breath, and the power of the Goddess that Caillean could awaken in her stirred suddenly.\n\n\"As High Priestess of Vernemeton, I command you-tell me your dream!\"\n\nCaillean's eyes widened, but in a few moments the tale was spilling out of her. Eilan listened with eyes closed, seeing the images as Caillean described them. And soon it seemed to her as if she could see them before the other woman spoke, as if it were her own dream that Caillean was telling, and when Caillean fell silent, she herself continued with the story of her own dream of the swans.\n\n\"We will be parted,\" she said finally, opening her eyes. \"Whether by death or some other force I do not know, but it is like death to think of losing you, Caillean.\"\n\n\"But if not by death, what then?\" the older woman asked.\n\nEilan frowned, remembering the gleam of silver waters beneath the clouds. \"The Summer Country,\" she said suddenly. \"Surely that is the place we both saw in our dreams. You must go there, Caillean, and take a dozen of the maidens with you. I do not know if this is to fulfill the purpose of the Goddess or to defy it, but surely it is better to do something than to sit here waiting for death to take you, even if what we do is wrong!\"\n\nCaillean still looked dubious, but the life had returned to her eyes. \"Ardanos will never allow it. He is the Arch-Druid, and he wants all the priestesses here at Vernemeton, under his eye!\"\n\nEilan looked at her and smiled. \"But I am Priestess of the Oracle. Leave Ardanos tome!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On Midsummer morning, the maidens of the Forest House went at dawn to gather dew from the summer flowers. The dew had many powers, both in increasing beauty and bestowing magic. It was said that on that day any maiden who washed her face with the morning dew and then looked into a clear stream could seethe face of him who loved her best.\n\nEilan found herself wondering why the priestesses, who after all were all under vows of chastity or intending to be so, should wish to know such things. Did most of them cherish memories of sweethearts in the lives they had left? She had done worse than dream about her lover. But she hoped that the others who served the Goddess could be more single-minded than she.\n\nEilan heard the girls laughing as they returned from the forest, but she did not go out to see them. As time went on, she was increasingly aware of the need for ritual seclusion before the great festivals. She had thought it would grow easier with time, but it seemed to her that keeping the balance between all the forces that sought the Power of the Goddess grew harder each year.\n\nEach time Ardanos came to whisper his instructions into her ear, she remembered that by keeping the peace she, no less than the Arch-Druid, was serving the Romans; and she wondered if the fact that they both worked for what they considered to be the good of Britain could ever justify that alliance.\n\nThe door opened and Caillean came in. Even she had a wreath of red poppies to celebrate the day. Her cheeks were flushed from the sun and she looked healthier than she had for sometime. \"You are alone?\"\n\n\"Who would be with me today? All of the girls in the house have gone out to pick the Midsummer flowers and Lia has taken Gawen to visit Mairi,\" Eilan answered." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That is well.\" Caillean sat down on a three-legged stool. \"We must speak of tonight's Oracle.\"\n\n\"I have been thinking of little else since I awakened!\" Eilan said bitterly. \"I wish it was you who must sit herein the dark, preparing. You would have made so much better a High Priestess than I!\"\n\n\"Gods forbid; I am not such a one as could obediently do Ardanos's will.\"\n\nSuddenly furious, Eilan said wrathfully, \"If I am no more than a creature of the priests, you know best who made me so.\"\n\nCaillean sighed. \"I thought not to criticize you, mo chridhe.\" The endearment defused Eilan's anger. Caillean went on, \"We are all in Her hands and do Her will as best we can, I no less than you. You should not be angry with me.\"\n\n\"I am not angry,\" Eilan said, not altogether truthfully, but unwilling to quarrel with the woman to whom she owed so much. Sometimes she felt that the weight of her debt to Caillean should crush her. \"I am afraid,\" she went on, \"but I will tell you a thing that no one else knows. The sacred drink that is intended to drug me is not the same as it was in Lhiannon's day. I have altered it so that the trance is not total. I know what Ardanos is telling me to say-\"\n\n\"But he always seems quite content with your words,\" Caillean said, frowning. \"Are you still so in love with your Gaius that you intentionally serve Rome?\"\n\n\"I serve peace!\" Eilan exclaimed. \"It has never occurred to Ardanos that I would disobey him, and when my answers are somewhat different from the words I was given he thinks only that I am an imperfect vessel. But the words of peace are not my decision. When I offered myself to the Goddess I was not lying! Do you think the rites we do here at the Forest House area lie?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Caillean shook her head. \"I have felt the Goddess, too, strongly-but-\"\n\n\"Do you remember Midsummer seven years ago, when Cynric came?\"\n\n\"How could I forget?\" Caillean said ruefully. \"I was terrified!\" Fora few moments she was silent. \"That was not you, I know it, but a face of the Goddess I hope never to see again. Is it that way always?\"\n\nEilan shrugged. \"Sometimes She comes, sometimes not, and I must use my own judgment. But every time I sit in the high seat I make the offering, and each time I wait like this I wonder if this will be the time She will strike me down!\"\n\n\"I see,\" said Caillean carefully. \"Forgive me if I misunderstood you when you said you would compel Ardanos to send me south. But what will you do about me?\"\n\n\"This is the testing-\" Eilan leaned forward. \"For both of us. If all we have built here is not to be a lie I must now risk both myself and you. Tonight I shall makeup the potion according to the old recipe. When the Goddess takes me, you must ask about your dream. Everyone will hear the answer, and we all-you, Ardanos, and I-will be bound by it, whatever it maybe.\"\n\nThe quality of the light had altered considerably towards sunset when the outer door opened and one of Ardanos's apprentices came in; he was so young that he had as yet only the thinnest straggle of beard.\n\nThe young Druid said deferentially, \"We are ready for you, my lady.\" Eilan, who was already beginning to slip into the detached meditative state that preceded trance, rose from her chair. Eilidh and Senara lowered the heavy ritual cloak over her shoulders and fastened it at her throat with a massive gold chain." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The night was cool despite the season, and even in her thick cloak, Eilan shivered as she got into her litter." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "From out of the darkness came two white-robed priests, pale figures moving with measured step at her side. She knew that they were thereto guard her against even accidental injury or pressure from the crowds, but somehow she had never been able to dismiss the thought that they were her guards.\n\nThe thought flashed across her mind like a rabbit scuttling into the bushes: Every priestess is a prisoner of her gods...\n\nShe was vaguely aware of passing through the long avenue of trees that led to the hill. Before the mound a great fire was burning, one of many fires on this night. Its red gleam played on the leaves of the ancient oak that grew next to the mound. A sound of anticipation went through the crowd like a soft sigh. She could not help remembering the first time she had heard it greet Lhiannon. Now she stood in Lhiannon's place, and the people who watched had as little understanding of what was really happening here as she had had then.\n\nTwo small boys about eight or nine years old, white-robed novices of the bards chosen for their innocence and beauty, brought forward the great golden bowl. They had golden torques about their throats, and belts embroidered with gold cinctured their white robes. As a ray of moonlight lanced through the leaves of the oak tree, a twiglet of mistletoe-cut by a priest hidden in the branches-fluttered downwards. Eilan caught it and dropped it into the bowl.\n\nShe murmured the words of blessing, and bracing herself against the bitterness, drank the liquid down. The voices of the Druids rose in invocation; the pressure of expectation from the people beat against her awareness. The liquid burned in her belly; she wondered if she had got the dosage wrong, then remembered that she had felt this way before. It came to her then that each time poisoned her a little, and that she would die as Lhiannon had died, though perhaps not as soon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But the world was already dimming around her; she was scarcely aware of falling backward into the seeress's chair, or the jolting as they carried it to the top of the mound.\n\nCaillean eyed the figure slumped in the high seat above her with more than usual concern. As always, the intensity of the chanting was pushing her towards trance as well. But there was a tension in the pulsing energies around her that she did not understand. She turned and saw Eilan's father among the white-robed Druids in the circle. Ardanos had said nothing. Had he even known that Bendeigid was going to be there?\n\nEilan twitched in the high seat and Caillean reached for the back to steady it. It was forbidden to touch the High Priestess when she was entranced, but they must be prepared to catch her if she fell.\n\n\"Goddess,\" she prayed, \"take care of her-I do not care what happens tome!\" It seemed to her then that Eilan stilled; from the corner of her eye she could see one white hand dangling over the edge of the chair, slender as a child's. How could it wield such power?\n\n\"Lady of the Cauldron!\" cried the people. \"Silver Wheel! Great Queen! Come to us! Great Goddess, speak to us now!\"\n\nCaillean felt the wood of the chair quiver beneath her hand. Eilan's fingers were curling, and to Caillean's fascinated gaze the pale flesh seemed to glow. It is true, she thought then, the Goddess is here. Slowly, the figure in the high seat straightened, stretching as if to accommodate amass greater than the slight figure of the woman sitting there. Caillean felt a little chill rundown her spine." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Behold, oh ye people, the Lady of Life has come. Let the Oracle speak! Let the Goddess declare forth the will of the Immortals!\" Ardanos cried.\n\n\"Goddess! Deliver us from those who would enslave us!\" came another voice. Bendeigid stepped forward. \"Lead us to victory!\"\n\nThey sounded like ravens, crying for blood and death. Eilan alone stood between the Forest House and a people shrieking for war. Did they even know what would happen to this country, between the Romans and their foreign auxiliaries, if it should come to open fighting? Despite her hatred for the Romans, Caillean wondered how any sane manor woman-or even a Goddess-could loose war on this countryside. Had Bendeigid so soon forgotten their home inflames, forgotten the deaths of his wife and little daughter?\n\nGoddess, she thought, You have given the peace of this countryside into Elian's hands; let her do Your will even if it may seem it is the will of the Romans as well...\n\nThe figure in the chair quivered, and thrust the veil back suddenly, surveying the throng with a face as cold and dispassionate as one of the statues the Romans made.\n\n\"This is the shortest night,\" she said softly, and the murmuring people stilled to hear. \"But from this moment onward, the forces of light will be declining. Oh ye whose pride it is to learn all secrets of earth and heaven\"-she indicated the circle of Druids with a disdainful hand-\"can you not read the signs in the world around you? The tribes have seen their day and now grow ever weaker; thus it will be one day with the Empire of the Romans as well. All things reach their peak and thereafter must decline.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"But is there no hope then?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "asked Bendeigid. \"In time, even the sun is reborn!\"\n\n\"That is true,\" said the still, calm voice from above him. \"But not until the darkest day has passed. Put away your swords and hangup your shields, children of Don. Let the Roman eagles tear at each other while you till your fields, and be patient, for Time will surely avenge your wrongs! I have read in the mystic scrolls of the Heavens; and I tell you, the name of Rome is not written there.\"\n\nA sigh of mingled relief and disappointment swept through the crowd.\n\nArdanos and one of the other priests were whispering. Caillean realized this was the only chance she might have to do what Eilan had asked.\n\n\"What, then, of the old wisdom? How shall Your worship be preserved in a changing world?\"\n\nArdanos and Bendeigid both glared at her, but the question had been asked, and already the Goddess was turning, and Caillean trembled, utterly certain at that moment that what looked down at her was not Eilan at all.\n\n\"Is it you, daughter of the elder race, who would truly question Me?\" came the soft answer. There was a pause, as the attention of the Goddess appeared to go inward; then She laughed. \"Ah, it is this one also who asks. She could ask more than that of Me, but she is afraid. Such a silly child not to understand that My will is for you all to be free.\" She shrugged Her shoulders gently. \"But you are children, all of you\"-her gaze lifted to fix Ardanos, who flushed and looked away-\"and I will not destroy your illusions now. You are not strong enough to bear too much reality...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She extended one arm, turning the hand and flexing its fingers as if to enjoy the movement. \"The flesh is sweet.\" She laughed softly. \"I do not wonder that you cling to it. But as for Me, what do you suppose your puny efforts can do to help or harm? I have been here from the beginning and so long as the sun shines or the waters flow, I will remain. I am...\" There was a terrible truth in that simple statement of being, and Caillean trembled.\n\n\"But our lives flow away like the waters and are gone-\" Caillean said then. \"How shall we pass what You have taught us to those who come after?\"\n\nThe Goddess looked from her to Ardanos and back again.\n\n\"You already know the answer. In ages past your soul has sworn the oath, and so has hers. Let one of you go forth,\" She cried. \"Let one go forth to the Summer Country, thereon the shores of the lake to establish a House of Maidens. There shall I be served, side by side with the priests of the Nazarene. So shall My wisdom survive the days that are coming!\"\n\nAlmost at once the body of the priestess, which had been tight as a strung bow, was released; the arrow had flown, the message had been given. Eilan slumped back in the chair, and Caillean and Miellyn moved quickly to steady her. She was twitching and muttering, coming out of the trance.\n\nArdanos stood with head bowed, pondering the meaning of this Oracle and how he could use it. Countermand it he could not-nor would he, a pious man, wish to gainsay the direct word of the Goddess-but it was his privilege to interpret it. After a moment his head came up. He looked directly at Caillean, and it seemed to her that he smiled." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Goddess has spoken. Now let it be so. And this house shall be founded by the servant of the Goddess; it is you, Caillean, who will go forth to found the House of Maidens on the Tor.\"\n\nCaillean stared back at him. There was triumph in his pale eyes. To Ardanos, this decision of the Goddess was a fortuitous opportunity to achieve something he had long desired, to part her from Eilan.\n\nHe picked up the sprig of mistletoe and shook water over the limp body of the Priestess, and all other sound was lost in a mocking jangle of silver bells.\n\n\"For someone who has been out of harness fora few years, you seem to be keeping busy!\" Gaius grinned at his father across the rolled parchments and stacked wax tablets that littered the table. Outside, a cold February wind was rattling branches that were just beginning to swell with sap. Indoors, the hypocaust warmed the tiled floors and charcoal burning in iron braziers fought the drafts. \"I hope young Brutus appreciates all you are doing for him.\"\n\n\"He appreciates my experience,\" said Macellius, \"and I appreciate his news. He's very well connected, you know, related to half the ancient families of Rome. His father is an old friend of your patron Malleus, by the way.\"\n\n\"Ah.\" Gaius took another drink of hot spiced wine, beginning to understand. \"And what does our Legate think of the Emperor's current policies?\"\n\n\"Frankly, his letters from Rome have him terrified. His term as Commander finishes at the end of this year, and he's wondering how to get out of going home again! As members of the equestrian order, you and I have one advantage: we're not required bylaw to reside in Rome. The Eternal City has been extremely unhealthy for senators this year, I am told.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Like Flavius Clemens?\" Gaius asked grimly. No wonder the senators were uneasy. If Domitian's own cousin had been executed, what were the rest of them going to do? \"Did you ever hear anything more about what he was charged with?\"\n\n\"The official accusation was atheism. But according to the rumors, the man was a Christian who refused to burn incense to the Emperor.\"\n\n\"I'm sure our Dominus et Deus was highly insulted!\"\n\nMacellius smiled sourly. \"The gods know those Christians are an exasperating lot, and when the government isn't persecuting them they persecute each other. If Nero had only tried setting their different factions against each other in the arena he could have saved a fortune in lions-but the kind of adoration Domitian is demanding goes beyond all propriety!\"\n\nGaius nodded. He had heard enough about Father Petros's preaching from Julia to be aware of the Christian fascination with martyrdom, and of their sectarian strife, though Julia referred to it as purging the Church of the ungodly. But in the larger scheme of things the Christians were a minor problem. Far more serious was the megalomania of the Emperor.\n\n\"Is he going the way of Nero, or Caligula?\" he asked.\n\n\"He hasn't tried to deify his horse yet, if that's what you mean,\" his father replied. \"In many ways he has been a very effective Emperor; that's why he's so dangerous. What will Rome have to fallback on when the next crazy Emperor comes along if Domitian is allowed to destroy what remains of the senatorial class?\"\n\nGaius looked at his father carefully. \"You're really worried about this, aren't you?\"\n\n\"It doesn't matter so much about me,\" said Macellius, turning his equestrian ring back and forth on his hand. \"But most of your career is still ahead of you. With this Emperor, what chance is therefor you?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Father... something's going on, isn't it? What have they asked you to do?\"\n\nMacellius sighed and looked around the room with its painted walls and racks of scrolls as if he were afraid it might be about to vanish. \"There is a... plan...\" he said carefully, \"to end the Flavian dynasty. When Domitian has been dealt with, the senators will elect anew Emperor. For the plan to work, the Provinces must support it. The new Governor is Domitian's man, but most of the legionary Legates are from the same kinds of families as Brutus-\"\n\n\"And so they want us to support them,\" Gaius said baldly. \"What do they imagine the tribes will be doing while we are engaged in this Imperial housecleaning?\"\n\n\"If we promise them some concessions, they will support us... Queen Brigitta's daughters will becoming to us soon, and Valerius is helping me to find appropriate foster parents to raise them. Romans and Britons are bound to become allies in the end. This way it may come a little sooner, that is all.\"\n\nGaius whistled soundlessly. This was sedition on a grand scale! He gulped down the last of his wine. When he looked up again, his father was watching him.\n\n\"Stranger things have happened,\" Macellius said quietly. \"Depending on how things go, there might be quite an interesting future fora Roman of the Silure royal line!\"\n\nGaius rode home with his head reeling from more than the mulled wine. He had humored Julia long enough. It was now perfectly clear to him that he must adopt his son by Eilan formally. But when he arrived home, he found Julia could speak of nothing but her latest visit to the hermit, Father Petros." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"And he says that it is certain from Holy Writ-and from all the other prophecies-that the world will end with the passing away of this generation,\" she told him, her eyes glowing." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"With the coming of every dawn we should think that it may not be the sun, but the world beginning to burn. And then we shall be reunited with our loved ones. Did you know that?\"\n\nHe shook his head, amazed that she, who had received a good Roman education, could believe such stuff. But then, women were credulous, which was probably why they could not serve in public office. He wondered if the Christians were trading on the current anxieties about the Emperor.\n\n\"Are you going to become a follower of the Nazarene-that prophet of slaves and renegade Jews?\" he asked sharply.\n\n\"I do not see how any thinking person can possibly do anything else,\" Julia replied coolly.\n\nWell, Gaius thought, I am obviously not a thinking person-at least not of her kind. He only said, \"And what will Licinius say?\"\n\n\"He will not like it,\" Julia said sadly. \"But this is the only thing I have been sure of since... since the children died.\" Her eyes filled with tears.\n\nThat makes no sense, he thought, but did not say it aloud; making sense did not seem to have comforted her very much. And indeed she looked happier than he had seen her since Secunda's death. The image of his daughter drowned was still behind his eyes night and day. Logical or not, he almost envied her.\n\n\"Well, do as you will,\" he said resignedly. \"I will not try to stop you.\"\n\nShe looked at him with something almost like disappointment, then brightened. \"If you had any sense of what was right, you would become a Nazarene as well.\"\n\n\"My dear Julia, you have told me many times I have no sense of what is right,\" he said sharply. She stared at the floor and he knew there was something else. \"What is it?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I do not want to say this before the children,\" she stammered." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius laughed, took her arm and led her into another room.\n\n\"Well, what is it that you cannot say before our children, Julia?\"\n\nAgain she cast her eyes on the ground. \"Father Petros says that... as the end of the world is so near...\" she stammered, \"it is better if all married women-and men-take an oath of chastity.\"\n\nAt this, Gaius threw back his head and did laugh. \"You do realize that, as the law now stands, refusing to sleep with your husband is grounds for divorce?\"\n\nJulia, although obviously troubled, was ready for the question. \"In the Kingdom of Heaven,\" she quoted, \"there is neither marriage nor giving in marriage.\"\n\n\"That settles it,\" said Gaius, laughing again. \"I do not care for your Heaven, at least not that portion of it over which Father Petros rules.\"\n\nHe added, knowing it would hurt her, \"Take all the oaths you like, my dear. Considering that for the past year or so you have been about as much use in bed as a stick of wood, I can't imagine how you think it would make any difference tome.\"\n\nHer eyes were wide with surprise. \"Then you will make no difficulty?\"\n\n\"None, Julia; but it is only fair to tell you that if you are no longer bound by our wedding vows, I will not hold myself bound by them either.\"\n\nHe realized that he was spoiling the scene she had resolved to play; he should, he supposed, have raged or pleaded.\n\n\"I would never consider asking you to take such avow,\" she said, and then, spitefully, added, \"I doubt if you would be able to keep it if you did. Do you think I do not know why you bought that pretty slave girl last year? God knows she is little enough use in the kitchen! With so many sins already upon your soul-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "But Gaius had had enough." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He would not discuss the state of his soul-whatever she might mean by that-with her.\n\n\"For my own soul I will be myself responsible,\" he told her and went into his office, where he found abed already made up for him. So she had counted on his willingness to sleep alone, whatever else he might say.\n\nGaius thought briefly of celebrating his freedom by summoning the slave girl, but he discovered he had no wish to do so. He wanted something more than the compliance of a woman who had no choice in the matter. His mind went to Eilan. Now at least Julia could make no objection if he wished to adopt Gawen. How would he break the news to her?\n\nFinally he was free to seek Eilan out once more. But the face of the Fury he had seen at the Midsummer festival came between him and his memories, and it was the face of the girl he had met at the hermit's the year before that went with him into sleep at last." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the middle of February the storms gave way to a period of fair, clear weather, brisk but sunny. In sheltered spots early fruit trees began to put forth buds and the branches grew red with returning sap. The hills were melodious with the bleating of new lambs, and the marshes resounded with the calls of returning swans.\n\nEilan looked at the blue sky and realized that the time had come to keep her word to Macellius. She was waiting in the garden when Senara answered her summons.\n\n\"It is a fair day,\" Senara said, clearly wondering why Eilan had called her away from her duties.\n\n\"It is that,\" Eilan agreed, \"a fair bright day for performing an unwelcome duty. But you are the only one I can ask.\"\n\n\"And what is that?\"\n\n\"Brigitta's daughters have been here fora year now, and it is time to send them to the Romans as I promised. They have kept their word regarding Brigitta, and I trust them to deal kindly with the children. But it must be done quietly, lest all the old enmity be awakened again. You are old enough to take them to Deva, and you know the Latin tongue enough to ask your way to the house of Macellius Severus. Will you take them there?\"\n\n\"Severus?\" Senara frowned. \"I think I remember that name. My mother told me once that her brother served him, and that he was a hard man, but fair.\"\n\n\"That is my understanding.\" Eilan nodded. \"The sooner the girls are in his care, the sooner he can settle them in their new home.\"\n\n\"But they will grow up Romans,\" Senara protested then.\n\n\"Would that be so bad a thing?\" Eilan smiled at her. \"Your own mother was a Roman, after all.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That is true...\" the girl said thoughtfully. \"Sometimes I wonder about her family, and what it was like growing up in that world. Very well,\" she said at last. \"I will go.\"\n\nIt took sometime to make the children ready, for Eilan wished to make sure that no one in the Roman town should have cause to say that the girls had been neglected while they were among the Druids; but at last even Eilan was satisfied, and Senara, holding a little girl by either hand, was ready to set out for Deva.\n\nThe day was crisp but clear, and even with one child in her arms and the other trotting at her side, Senara made good time. The children babbled merrily, excited by the outing. When they grew tired, she tied the younger girl in her shawl, where she soon fell asleep, and picked up the older one in her arms. By this time she could seethe straggle of houses at the edge of the city and the stout log walls of the fortress beyond. When she reached the central Forum, she sat down on a bench beside a fountain to rearrange her burdens before asking her way to the house of Macellius.\n\nSuddenly the sunlight was blotted out. Senara looked up to behold the Roman she had met at the house of the hermit the year before. Later it seemed altogether symbolic to her that he should stand between her and the sun; but she did not think of that then.\n\n\"I have seen you before, haven't I?\" he asked.\n\n\"At Father Petros's hut,\" she said, blushing. One of the children awakened and stared at him with owlish eyes. She had not seen him at any gathering of the small group of local Nazarenes; but then, living as she did actually within the Forest House, she was notable to go there very often. She had gone the first time from curiosity, and later because the Roman tongue seemed somehow a link with her dead mother, and finally, because she found comfort there." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The handsome Roman was still regarding her." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He was younger than she had thought at first, and she liked his smile. \"Where are you bound, maiden?\"\n\n\"To the house of Macellius Severus, sir; these girls are to be given into his care-\"\n\n\"Ah, so these are the children.\" Fora moment he frowned, then the quick smile once more lit his eyes. \"We are well met, then. I am myself bound there; may I be your guide?\"\n\nHe reached out one hand, and the older girl placed her small one within it, smiling up at him.\n\nShe looked at him a little dubiously, but he swung the child up to his shoulder, and hearing the little girl's laughter, Senara decided that he must be of a kindly nature after all.\n\n\"You hold her as one well used to children, sir,\" she said, and though she asked no further, he replied, \"I have three daughters of my own; I am well accustomed to little ones.\"\n\nSo, she thought, he is married. Is he one of us? After a moment she said, \"Tell me, sir, are you then a member of Father Petros's flock?\"\n\n\"I am not,\" he replied, \"but my wife is.\"\n\n\"Then, sir, your wife is my sister in Jesus, and thus kin tome.\"\n\nHis lips twisted rather sardonically at this, and she thought, He is too young to smile so bitterly. Who has hurt him so?\n\n\"You are very kind to escort me,\" she said aloud.\n\n\"It is no trouble. Macellius is my father, you see-\"\n\nThey were approaching a fine-looking house near the walls of the fortress, white-washed and tiled in the Roman style. The Roman knocked on the gate, and after a momenta slave pulled it open and they passed through along hallway into an enclosed garden." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Roman asked, \"Is my father within?\"\n\n\"He is with the Legate,\" the man replied. \"Go in and wait for him, if you will; he should begetting back just about now.\"\n\nIt was in actual fact only four or five minutes till Macellius arrived. Senara was not sorry to see him, for the younger of the children had wakened and begun to fret. Macellius turned them both over to a buxom and kindly slave woman who would look after them until the foster parents he had chosen for them came. He thanked Senara, and asked her politely if she needed an escort to return.\n\nSenara shook her head quickly. At the Forest House they thought she had taken the girls to relatives of their mother in the town. Returning with an escort of Roman soldiers would have put the fat in the fire for certain. It would have been nice, though, if the younger Severus could have escorted her home-she thrust the thought away.\n\n\"Will I see you again?\" he asked, and a little tremor of excitement ran through her.\n\n\"Perhaps atone of the services.\" Then, before she could make a fool of herself entirely, she slipped away through the door.\n\nJulia Licinia never did anything by halves. One night in April she asked Gaius to accompany her to an evening service in the Nazarene temple in Deva. Though their marriage had become a polite fiction, she was still the mistress of his household, and Gaius felt bound to support her. He had considered divorce, but could see no point in hurting Licinius and his children in order to marry some other Roman girl.\n\nHe was not insufficient favor with the Emperor to make an alliance with a family of his party, and to ally himself with the opposition could have been dangerous. Though the elder Macellius said little, Gaius knew that the conspiracy was growing. If the Emperor fell, all would be changed. It seemed to Gaius better to put off worrying about his personal future until he knew whether he had one." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Help continue the narrative for the writer.\nTags: fantasy, historical fantasy, druids\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Forest House\nChapter: 34" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Roman asked, \"Is my father within?\"\n\n\"He is with the Legate,\" the man replied. \"Go in and wait for him, if you will; he should begetting back just about now.\"\n\nIt was in actual fact only four or five minutes till Macellius arrived. Senara was not sorry to see him, for the younger of the children had wakened and begun to fret. Macellius turned them both over to a buxom and kindly slave woman who would look after them until the foster parents he had chosen for them came. He thanked Senara, and asked her politely if she needed an escort to return.\n\nSenara shook her head quickly. At the Forest House they thought she had taken the girls to relatives of their mother in the town. Returning with an escort of Roman soldiers would have put the fat in the fire for certain. It would have been nice, though, if the younger Severus could have escorted her home-she thrust the thought away.\n\n\"Will I see you again?\" he asked, and a little tremor of excitement ran through her.\n\n\"Perhaps atone of the services.\" Then, before she could make a fool of herself entirely, she slipped away through the door.\n\nJulia Licinia never did anything by halves. One night in April she asked Gaius to accompany her to an evening service in the Nazarene temple in Deva. Though their marriage had become a polite fiction, she was still the mistress of his household, and Gaius felt bound to support her. He had considered divorce, but could see no point in hurting Licinius and his children in order to marry some other Roman girl.\n\nHe was not insufficient favor with the Emperor to make an alliance with a family of his party, and to ally himself with the opposition could have been dangerous. Though the elder Macellius said little, Gaius knew that the conspiracy was growing. If the Emperor fell, all would be changed. It seemed to Gaius better to put off worrying about his personal future until he knew whether he had one." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Since the Nazarene temple had been, in part, purchased with the proceeds of the jewels Julia no longer seemed to wear, Gaius was curious to see what sort of value she had got for her money. By the time they set out they were quite a large party; not only Gaius and Julia, but the little girls and their nurses, and what seemed like half the household. \"Why do we have to have all these people with us?\" Gaius demanded, not altogether good-naturedly. He and his family would sleep that night at the house of Macellius, but his father did not have room for their whole staff.\n\n\"Because they are all members of the congregation,\" Julia said more pleasantly. Gaius blinked. It would never have occurred to him to question how she managed her household, but he had not realized that her zeal had led her quite so far. She added, \"They will return to the villa when this is over. I cannot deny them the chance to worship.\"\n\nGaius thought it was, rather, that she would not, but he thought it wiser to say no more. The new Christian church was a largish old building near the river that had belonged originally to an importer of wine. The reek of old wine was overlaid by the fragrance of wax candles and early flowers were heaped on the altar. Rather crudely painted pictures-a shepherd carrying a lamb, a fish, some men in a boat-adorned the white-washed walls.\n\nAs they entered Julia made a cryptic sign; he was displeased to see that Cella, Tertia, and Quartilla all tried to imitate her. Had Julia converted not only her servants but her daughters as well? He wondered if these Christians were in the business of undermining the authority of the home." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Julia found a seat on a hard bench not too far from the door, and sat down, surrounded by her waiting-women and her daughters. Gaius, standing behind her, looked round to see if anyone else in the congregation was known to him. Most of the assembled worshippers seemed to be working people of the poorer kind, and he wondered how the snobbish Julia liked finding herself among such folk. Then he recognized a face: the girl who had brought Brigitta's daughters to the town. She had told him she came to the meetings when she could getaway, and he realized now that one reason he had given into Julia's request that he accompany her was a faint hope of seeing her.\n\nA priest, closely shaven and wearing along dalmatica, entered with two boys, one of whom carried a large wooden cross and the other a candle, and a couple of older men whom Julia had told him were deacons, one of whom carried a heavy leather-bound book in his hand. This one was a rather sober-looking man of middle years. Ashe laid the book on the immense lectern, he stumbled over a four-year-old child in the aisle; but rather than fleeing in terror, the child laughed up at him, and the deacon bent down and hugged the toddler with a smile that transformed his face, then handed it back to its father, a rough-handed, grimy man with a blacksmith's brawny arms.\n\nThere were prayers and invocations; the congregation was purified with incense and water, all of it similar enough to a Roman ceremony that Gaius did not feel too uncomfortable, though the Latin was rather less pure. Then the priests and deacons were seated and there was a little stir of excitement as another man came forward.\n\nGaius was not surprised to recognize Father Petros, looking frowsy and bearded next to the others. He gazed at the collected worshippers with such intensity that Gaius wondered uncharitably if the hermit suffered from poor eyesight." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Our Master once said, \"Suffer the little children to come tome, and forbid them not; for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.\" Many of you here tonight have lost a child and you grieve; but your children, I tell you, are safe with Jesus in Heaven, and you parents who grieve are happier than those parents who have given their children over, living, to the service of idols. I tell you that it would be better for these children to be safely dead, having sinned not, than living to serve false gods!\" He paused for breath and the people sighed.\n\nThey have come hereto be frightened! thought Gaius cynically. They are enjoying the thought of their own virtuous superiority!\n\n\"For the first of the great commandments is this: thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and all thy soul; and the second of the great commandments is this: that thou shalt honor thy father and thy mother,\" Father Petros boomed. \"The question arises, then: how far can a young person beheld responsible if his guardians place him in the service of a heathen idol? There are Fathers in our Church who have said that all, even infants in arms, are guilty if they are present during the worship of an idol; but there others who hold that if a child's guardians commit him to serve an idol before he shall have arrived at an age of reason, then he should beheld guiltless. My own feeling is-\"\n\nBut Gaius did not really care what the Father's own feeling was. By this time his gaze had fixed on the far more pleasing spectacle of the girl, Senara, who was leaning forward, absorbed in the hermit's words. He had hopelessly lost the thread of the Father's discourse, but he had already decided that these Christian ceremonies were too dull for his taste; no sacrifices, no roaring exhortations, not even the drama the rites of Isis or Mithras could sometimes provide. In fact these Christian ceremonies, all told, were duller than anything he had ever heard except some of the Druidic philosophies." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Even with the girl's bright face to look at it seemed along time before Father Petros's discourse finally rambled to its end. Gaius was looking forward to leaving, and it was with consternation that he heard that he and the other unbaptized members of the congregation were now expected to wait outside while the initiates participated in some kind of love-feast. His complaints were so loud that Julia finally agreed to leave, although she promised the nurses and serving women they might remain.\n\nHe picked up the sleeping Quartilla, and they set out for Macellius's home. But they had hardly started when Tertia began to complain that she wanted to be carried too. Gaius told her brusquely to behave like a big girl and walk; her mother's health had improved but she was not yet strong enough to carry the child, and Cella was still too small. As Tertia began to whimper, someone moved behind them and he heard a sweet voice saying, \"I will carry your little girl.\"\n\nGaius would have refused, but the British girl had already picked up the drowsy child, who almost instantly fell asleep in her arms.\n\n\"Indeed, she is no weight at all,\" said the girl, \"and I amused to harder work than this!\"\n\n\"You area true sister in Christ,\" exclaimed Julia. Gaius could find nothing to add to this, and so they walked along. The women exchanged a few low-voiced commonplaces, and Gaius found himself obscurely relieved that they clearly did not really know each other that well. The moon, just a few nights after full, gave them just enough light to illuminate their path. They could seethe street underfoot clearly, and many of the trees were bright with clouds of misty white blossom.\n\nAs they pushed open the gate Macellius's steward came out to meet them with a lamp. When Tertia began to stir, the British girl set her down and they stood staring atone another in the sudden brilliance." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You must stay and join us for something to eat, since you too missed the agape,\" Julia declared.\n\n\"Oh, no, I cannot,\" the girl said shyly. \"It is most kind of you, lady, but I had not leave to come; I must get home at once, or I will be missed, and then, even if I am not punished, I might not be able to come again.\"\n\n\"I will not keep you, then; that would be a poor return for your kindness,\" Julia said quickly. \"Gaius will go with you. This part of the city is quiet, but before you get out of the gates, there might be some people it would not be safe for an honest and proper young girl to meet.\"\n\n\"That will not be necessary, Domina-\" she began but Gaius interrupted, \"I'll go gladly; I wanted to walk awhile before I go to bed, and I can return you safely to your home.\"\n\nAt least he could ask her what a girl from the Forest House was doing among Christians. The answer, he decided, might be revealing. When she pulled her cloak-a dark plain one such as a servant girl in a respectable home would wear-about her closely he wondered if it was because under it she wore the dress of a priestess. Gaius took a torch; even with a moon, he knew better than to brave the streets without one, and he felt that a good light might reassure the girl. She kissed all of the little girls, including the drowsy toddler in Julia's arms, and went down the steps at his side. They passed through the silent streets without attracting any notice, but even when the last houses were behind them his companion made no attempt to put back her hood, even though the night was warm.\n\nThe silence seemed oppressive. \"How long have you been coming to services at the new temple?\" Gaius asked finally." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Since it was built.\"\n\n\"And before that?\"\n\n\"When I was a little girl, my mother used to take me to meetings in the servants' quarters in the house of one of the city fathers whose steward was a Christian.\"\n\n\"But you dwell in the Forest House,\" he said, frowning.\n\n\"It is true,\" she replied quietly. \"Their Priestess has given me shelter there-I am an orphan. But no oaths bind me. My father is British, exiled now, but my mother was a Roman. She had me baptized, and when I found that Father Petros was living near, I wanted to learn more of her faith.\"\n\nGaius smiled. \"And your name is Valeria!\"\n\nShe blinked. It had been along time since she had heard that name.\n\n\"That is the name my mother called me, but I have been Senara so long I had almost forgotten it. Father Petros says it is my duty to obey my guardians, even if they are pagans. At least in the Forest House no harm will come tome. He says that the Druids are among the good pagans who will someday be offered salvation; but I must not take oath to them. And the Apostle Paul commanded slaves to obey their masters. Freedom is of the soul, but the legal status of the body cannot beset aside, and neither can lawful oaths.\"\n\n\"At least they have that much sense,\" he muttered. \"A pity they cannot extend that reasoning to cover their duty to the Emperor!\"\n\nSenara chattered on as if she had not heard, and he wondered if her babbling covered fear, but he was too charmed by the music of her voice to care much about the words. She had such innocence, like Eilan's when she was young." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Of course they do not ask me to sin in the Forest House, and they are good people there, but I want to be areal believer and go to Heaven. I would be afraid to be a martyr though, and I used to be afraid they would think it was my duty to die for my faith like one of the saints Mother told me about; I was only a baby but I can remember-just.\n\n\"But the government is not persecuting Christians now...\" She hesitated. As Gaius was searching for something to say, she went on. \"Of course, tonight, the Father was really talking about me. A few of the people in the congregation know that I am in one of the pagan temples and they despise me because I remain there-but Father Petros says I do not need to leave them until I am of age.\"\n\n\"And then what?\" he asked. \"Will Valerius arrange a suitable marriage for you?\"\n\n\"Oh no. It is most likely I will enter a holy sisterhood. In Heaven, the priests say, there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage.\"\n\n\"What a waste,\" Gaius declared. He had heard that one before. \"I truly think the priests must be mistaken.\"\n\n\"Oh no; for when the world ends you do not wish to be found with any sin upon your soul.\"\n\nGaius said with absolute truthfulness, \"It never occurred tome to be concerned about my soul, nor even to ask myself whether or not I had one.\"\n\nShe stopped short and turned to him in the dark. \"But how terrible,\" she said very earnestly. \"You do not want to be cast into the pit of hell, do you?\"\n\n\"I find it a strange religion that would condemn folk for breeding children, or for the act that begets them! And as for your pit of hell, surely it is as much a fable as Tartarus or Hades. Nothing to frighten a rational man. Do you mean to tell me that you truly believe that is where those who offend against Father Petros's rules will go?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She stopped again and raised her face to him, white as a lily in the moonlight. \"But of course I do,\" she said. \"You must think about your soul now, before it is too late.\"\n\nIf anyone except a girl as pretty as this one had brought up such a subject to Gaius, he probably would have laughed in her face. Julia's talk of such things bored him almost to tears. Instead he answered more gently, \"If you have a care for my soul, you will simply have to help me save it.\"\n\nShe said doubtfully, \"I think Father Petros could help you a good deal better than I can.\" They had reached the entrance to the avenue of oaks that led to the Forest House, and she stopped, frowning. \"I can find my way from here; and you should certainly not come any closer. You might be seen, and then I too would be caught and punished.\"\n\nHe seized her shoulders and said, half jocularly, half pleading, \"Will you let me go with my soul unsaved, then? We must meet again.\"\n\nShe looked troubled. \"I should not say this,\" she said abruptly. \"But I take food to Father Petros's hermitage at noon of everyday. If you happened to be there... I suppose... we could talk then.\"\n\n\"Then you shall certainly save my soul, if it can be saved,\" Gaius replied. He did not care a pin about his suppositious soul; but he knew he wanted to see Senara again.\n\n\"I will never see you again-\" Eilan turned abruptly away from Caillean and stared into the garden.\n\n\"That is foolish!\" exclaimed Caillean, the stab of fear those words gave her turning to anger. \"Now it is you who are having the foolish premonitions. It was you yourself who wanted me to go!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan's thin shoulders quivered. \"Not I, not I. It was the Goddess speaking through me, and I know we must do Her will. But oh, Caillean, now that the time comes, it is hard!\"\n\n\"Hard indeed!\" Caillean spat back at her. \"But it is I who must leave you and everything that I have loved. Are you sure it was the Goddess speaking and not Ardanos whispering in your ear? He has wanted to separate us ever since I made him let you keep your son!\"\n\n\"I suppose this does please him,\" whispered Eilan, \"but do you truly believe it was his doing? Is everything I have tried to do here a lie?\"\n\nCaillean heard her pain and could maintain her own anger no longer. \"My dear one-my little one.\" She laid a hand on Eilan's shoulder and the other woman turned into her arms. She made no sound, but her cheeks were streaked with tears. \"We must not fight like children when there is so little time! There are moments when the power of the gods burns like the sun, and then it grows dark and the light seems only a dream. It has always been so. But I believe in you, my love.\"\n\n\"Your belief has sustained me,\" Eilan murmured.\n\n\"Listen,\" said Caillean. \"This is not forever. One day, when we are old women together, we will laugh at our fears.\"\n\n\"I know that we will be together,\" said Eilan slowly, \"but whether it is in this life or another, that I cannot see.\"\n\n\"My Lady.\" Huw spoke from the gate. \"The bearers are waiting.\"\n\n\"Now you must go.\" Eilan straightened, becoming the High Priestess again. \"We must both serve the Lady in the places where She has called us, no matter what we feel.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is all right. I will return, you'll see,\" Caillean said gruffly, giving her a last, swift hug and releasing her.\n\nShe went away then, knowing that if she looked back at Eilan she would weep herself, and she must not, not before the young priestesses and the men. It was not until the curtains of the litter closed around her that she gave way to her tears.\n\nShe spent most of the rainy, dismal journey to the Summer Country brooding. Her mood was not improved by the fact that they had to travel by litter, a form of transportation that she detested.\n\nShe was accompanied by the priestesses chosen for the new establishment. They were mostly young, and all virtual newcomers to the Forest House who were too awed even to address her in anything but the barest commonplaces. Caillean had little to do except to nurse her rage.\n\nIt was nearing dusk when the little procession wound through the gap in the hills and transferred to barges to cross the shallow marshes that surrounded the Tor. It stood stark against the fading sky, crowned with a circle of stones, and even from here she could feel its power. The roundhouses of the Druids clustered on its lower slopes. In the hollow beyond, she could just make out a scattering of smaller beehive huts that must belong to the Christians Ardanos had allowed to settle here. A fragrance of some scented wood, perhaps apple, hung in the air.\n\nThey were met at the foot of the hill by the young priests set to watch there, who greeted her with many expressions of deference and goodwill, although they appeared somewhat uncertain about why she had come. Despite her anger she found herself amused by their confusion, and began reluctantly to come to terms with the inevitable. For better or worse, the Druid priesthood had sent her here, and even they were only instruments of the Goddess, who had commanded her presence herein no uncertain terms." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When they reached the shrine itself, it was full dark. The priests greeted them politely, if not cordially-but, then, Caillean had hardly expected to be welcomed. If this was exile, at least it was an honorable exile, and since she could not alter it, she might as well make the best of it.\n\nAfter the ceremonial greetings, she found her women huddled in wide-eyed confusion by the bonfire. One of the young priests conducted them to a low, thatched-roof dwelling that, as they said apologetically, was not in anyway suitable for the housing of a priestess, let alone one of her status. Still, whereto put women was not a problem they had had to deal with until now. Since the Arch-Druid had commanded it, however, they were swift to assure her that a suitable house would be built for their use as soon as she made their requirements known, and such attendance as she and her women desired should be secured for them.\n\nBy the time Caillean had made sure that all the young women were safely bestowed in the hastily vacated dormitory which had housed the youngest novices, and was able to seek her own bed at last, she was ready to drop from fatigue. Though the bed and the place were strange to her, to her surprise she slept through the night peacefully and woke while dawn was still reddening the sky. She dressed herself without waking her women, and went out alone into the early morning. Streaks of rosy light were just beginning to flush the sky. The path before her led up the hill.\n\nAs the light grew, Caillean studied her surroundings carefully. To what, in this remote country, had her destiny led her?\n\nAs the sun rose, she could see that the Tor looked out over avast expanse of wild country entirely surrounded by heavy mists that drifted from the great sheet of water; they had arrived so late the night before, that she hardly noticed, in her fatigue and exhaustion, that the final stage of the journey had been made by barge. The wooded slopes of other islands poked their blackish-green and forested summits through the mist. It was very silent, but as the sun rose and Caillean studied this strange country, she heard the faint murmur of chanting, from somewhere not very faraway." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She turned; the sound came from a small structure at the very top of the hill. She moved higher to hear it more clearly. The music was soft and slow, the deep resonance of men's voices strange to her ears after so many years among women. After a time she made out words in the flow of sound; it seemed to her that they were singing in Greek.\n\nKyrie eleison, Criste eleison. She had heard that this was how the Christians addressed their lord; this must be the community of refugees the Arch-Druid had given leave to settle here. These days all sorts of strange religions were breaking out allover the Empire.\n\nPresently the sound faded, and she saw a little old man, stooped as if with great old age, regarding her. She blinked, for she had not seen him approach, and that was unusual fora priestess of her training. As she looked at him, he dropped his eyes. He must be one of the Christian priests indeed; she had heard that many of their priests would not look upon a strange woman.\n\nBut apparently he was allowed to talk to her. He said, in the market-Latin that served as a dialect allover the Empire, \"A good day to you, my sister. May I ask your name? I know that you surely are not one of our catechumens, for we have not for many years had any women among us except the venerable ladies who came with us long ago, and you are young.\"\n\nCaillean smiled a little at the thought that anyone could consider her young, but the priest was white-haired and frail as a fallen leaf. At least in years, he might have been her grandsire.\n\n\"I am not,\" she said. \"I am one of those who worship the forest god. I am called Caillean.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Is it so?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "he asked her politely. \"I know something of the brothers among the Druids, and I knew not they had women among them.\"\n\n\"Those who dwell here have not,\" she replied, \"or at least not until now. I was sent here from the Forest House in the North, to establish a House of Maidens. I came up the hill to see to what place the gods had led me.\"\n\n\"You speak as one who holds some acquaintance with the truth, my sister. Surely then you know that all the gods are one God...\" He paused, and Caillean completed, \"... And all the goddesses one Goddess.\"\n\nHis ancient face was altogether kindly. \"It is so. Those to whom our Lord came as God's Divine Son would not seethe Godhead in anything female, so to them we speak not of the Goddess, but of Sophia, the Holy Wisdom. But we understand that the Truth is One. So, my sister, tome it seems very fitting that you should establish here, a shrine to the Holy Wisdom after the manner of your people.\"\n\nCaillean bowed. His face was very deeply wrinkled, but it no longer seemed ugly, for it positively glowed with benevolence.\n\n\"What a splendid work to which to devote the remainder of this incarnation, my sister.\" He smiled, then his gaze went inward. \"It feels right for you to be here, for it seems tome that we have served at the same altars before...\"\n\nNot for the first time in this strange encounter, Caillean was amazed. \"I had heard that the brothers of your faith denied the truth of incarnations,\" she volunteered. But what he had said was true. She did recognize him, with the kind of certainty she had felt when she met Eilan.\n\n\"It is written that the Master himself believed,\" said the ancient priest, \"for He said of the Way-shower, whom men called Jochanan, that he was Elijah reborn. It is written as well that he said there was milk for babes and meat for strongmen. Many of the babes among us, new in faith, are given such food as is right for spiritual infants, lest they neglect to amend their lives, in the belief that indeed the Earth shall abide forever. Yet the Master said that this generation shall not pass away before the Son of Man cometh; therefore am I here, that even the folk at the end of the world shall hear and know the Truth.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Caillean said quietly, \"May the truth prevail.\"\n\n\"Success to your mission, sister,\" the old man replied. \"There are many here who would welcome a pious sisterhood.\" He turned as if to go.\n\n\"Is it permitted to ask your name, my brother?\"\n\n\"I am called Joseph, and I was a merchant of Arimathea. There are holy ladies still living among us who looked upon the Master's face in life. They will welcome the company of enlightened women among us.\"\n\nCaillean bowed once more. She found it a strange but good omen that she should find, among these Christians who did not readily embrace women, a better welcome than her Druid brethren had offered. Servant of the Light... The title rang in her awareness from someplace before memory. As the ancient priest moved down the hill, her hands moved in a gesture of reverence more ancient even than the Druids. If such a soul could ally himself to the Christians, there must be some hope for them after all.\n\nAshe disappeared inside the little beehive church, Caillean found herself smiling. She knew now that the Goddess would favor her work and that she had indeed been sent herewith good reason. She would begin this very day.\n\nAs Caillean breakfasted with the other women it occurred to her that in this new home, where they were all far from every familiar thing, she could not quite maintain the aloofness that Lhiannon and then Eilan had observed within the Forest House. She made her first decision: they were not to be served by outsiders. It was the first step in determining just how much contact they would have with the male priesthood. An easier decision was to appoint one of the tallest and strongest of the young novices to locate a site suitable fora garden and to sow it as quickly as might be done with as many vegetables as practicable. Some food would, of course, be provided by the local population, but she wished it clear from the very beginning that they would not be in anyway dependent upon the Druid priests. The priests would have not the shadow of an excuse for claiming control over the lives of the women there." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She chose another young woman-probably the least intelligent of her subordinates-to be in charge of the cooking and serving of the food, promising her as much assistance as she desired. Later that day she spoke with one of the priests, and established that a building should be completed before the winter snow grew deep that could house four or five times their original number. Politely, but adamantly she discarded the old priest's suggestion that their present accommodations might suffice at least through the present winter.\n\nWhen she finally dismissed him he looked rather stunned. She suspected that he was probably feeling like someone who had been rolled over by a team of big horses, and felt that for the first time she could have her own will done. It was not at all an unwelcome feeling. The Goddess was at work here indeed, for the Lady could now make use of her talents to their fullest, and that had never been true before.\n\nShe missed Dieda; she could have used the younger woman's help with the maidens and in teaching them singing. But, she thought, she was better off without hostility among her associates, especially since they would have been thrown into such close contact. Here there was no one to protest whatever rules she might make. She resolved to choose the woman most experienced in singing or chanting to learn to play upon her own harp, and perhaps even teach her the art of fashioning such instruments.\n\nWhen she finally laid herself down to sleep, after an evening spent grouping the women together for their first lesson in memorizing the unwritten lore of the Goddess, she could hear the sweet sound of chanting coming once more from the distant church. It was to the renewed chant of'Kyrie eleison\" that she fell into sleep, more content with the spot to which the Goddess had led her than she had ever imagined she could be. That night she dreamed of a shrine served by maidens, of courts and halls upon the holy Tor, which might one day rise here. It might not be in her own lifetime; but it would come." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The days waxed longer after Beltane; the cattle were driven to the hill pastures, and in the fieldsmen tended the grain. Midsummer came, and for the first time Ardanos did not try to instruct Eilan before the ritual regarding the Oracle. When she saw him at the ritual, he seemed very frail. They told her afterward that the Goddess had foretold a time of disasters and changes, but promised peace to follow. Indeed, the whole land was full of rumors, but no one could say from what direction the danger might come.\n\nEilan had meant to visit the Arch-Druid after recovering from her own part in the ritual, but at this time of year there was much to do in the Forest House. The days went by and still she did not find the time. In high summer, even the maidens of the Forest House went into the fields of Vernemeton to help with the haying. Eilan supervised those who wove linen for the priests, and worked over the dye pots, preparing fabric for new robes, but it was Caillean who was missed most sorely, for she had always been the most skillful of the women at dyeing cloth. No law required Eilan to take her turn at this menial work but it seemed to her that as long as she had a responsibility for their little community, it was up to her to participate in it.\n\nShe was in the dye sheds, her sleeves rolled above the elbow and her forearms splattered with blue dye when a shadow fell across the doorway. A ripple of scandalized excitement ran through the women as they realized it was one of the young Druids, flushed and perspiring in his white robe. For though the shed was not within the sacred precinct inside the walls, where only the highest of the priests might enter, they were not used to seeing men." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The High Priestess,\" he gasped. \"Is the Lady Eilan here?\" All the women turned to look at Eilan, and as the boy's flush deepened she realized that he had never seen her without her veil. He swallowed. \"Please, Lady-the Arch-Druid has been taken ill. You must come!\"\n\nEilan stopped in the doorway of Ardanos's chamber, shocked in spite of having been warned. She heard a little gasp from Miellyn, who was attending her, and motioned her to stand with Huw at the door. Then she sat down beside the bed of the dying man. And indeed there could be no doubt that he was dying. At each breath air rattled and sucked in Ardanos's chest, and she could seethe skull beneath the sallow skin. With a pang she remembered how he had sat with Lhiannon during her illness. Even though at times she had hated him, she hoped that his passage would bean easy one.\n\n\"He collapsed at dinner and lay unconscious until a little while ago,\" said Garic, one of the older priests. \"We have sent for Bendeigid.\"\n\nShe put back her veil and reached out to take his hand. \"Ardanos,\" she said softly. \"Ardanos, can you hear me?\"\n\nThe papery eyelids fluttered and after a moment of confusion, he focused on her face. \"Dieda,\" he whispered.\n\n\"Grandfather, do you not know me even now? Dieda is in the South, testing maidens who wish to join us as priestesses. I am Eilan.\" She was bitterly amused that he should still be confusing them after all these years.\n\nHis gaze focused on the ornaments she had taken the time to put on and he sighed. \"You were the right one... after all.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ardanos,\" she said firmly, \"as High Priestess it is my duty to tell you that you are dying. You must not depart without naming your successor. Tell us, Arch-Druid, who shall bear the golden sickle when you are gone?\"\n\nHis eyes fixed on her face. \"Goddess, I did the best... I could,\" he whispered. \"The Merlin knows...\"\n\n\"But we must know!\" said the Druid who was attending him. \"Who will you choose?\"\n\n\"Peace!\" Ardanos said with sudden strength, as if he were ordering them to be silent. \"Peace...\" The word whispered away on a dying gasp; the breath rattled in the old man's throat, and then he was still.\n\nFora moment no one moved. Then Garic reached down to take Ardanos's pulse, waited, counting, and let the limp hand fall.\n\n\"He is gone!\" he said accusingly.\n\n\"I am sorry,\" said Eilan. \"What will you do?\"\n\n\"We must summon the other members of our order,\" said one of the others, already taking charge. \"Go now, Lady. Your part is done. We will inform you when the gods have led us to a decision, since they did not see fit to inspire Ardanos with their word.\"\n\nAs the fifteenth summer of the Emperor Domitian's reign passed, the weather stayed close and still, as if a storm were brewing somewhere just over the horizon. Gaius, riding through the streets of Deva, found himself constantly listening, waiting for thunder. And he was not the only one. The voices of the vendors in the town grew shrill and angry; there were more fights in the barracks and wine shops, and rumors of risings or mutinies abounded. Even his horse seemed to have picked up the tension, prancing and sidling nervously." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The ides of September... the ides of September... The words beat at his awareness every time his mount's hoofs struck the hard ground. Since Macellius had told him the date set for the rising, sleep had eluded him. His father believed that the tribes would support them, but Gaius was not so sure. If the Eagles of Rome fought each other, the only victor might be the Ravens. Was it worth the risk of a general insurrection even to unseat Domitian?\n\nWhen this is over I will be happy to spend the rest of my life running my farm, he thought as he rubbed his eyes. I was not cutout to be a conspirator.\n\nAnd this was the moment that the Arch-Druid, who in his way had been a force for stability, had chosen to die. If Gaius had believed in the Christian hell of which Julia spoke, he would have cursed the old man to its flames for his timing. Mithras alone knew who the Druids would choose to succeed him, but even if his successor was friendly, it would take time to establish the kind of understanding Ardanos had had with Macellius. But at least the news had brought Gaius to a decision. The question of adoption no longer mattered. If the country was about to explode in revolution he had to make sure that his son was safe. His father's informants had confirmed that the current High Priestess was still Eilan. Armed with an official message of condolence from the Legate, he was going to see her.\n\nHe had dressed carefully for the occasion, in the Roman style but with a Celtic sense of display, in a tunic of saffron linen embroidered with acanthus leaves at the hem over dark red doeskin breeches, and a mantle of light-weight maroon wool held by a golden brooch. At least no one could expect him to wear a toga when he was riding. But despite his fine clothes, as he turned his mount up the avenue of trees leading to the Forest House Gaius realized that he was nervous. He had just pulled out the first grey hairs at his temples. Would Eilan still find him handsome?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They led him into a garden where someone shrouded in a blue veil waited beneath a shady arbor covered with eglantine. He knew she must be the High Priestess because the same dolt of a bodyguard who had fainted when the cattle stampeded at Beltane all those years ago was standing nearby, glaring at him. But he found it hard to believe that this erect, veiled figure was Eilan.\n\n\"My Lady...\" He paused, and compelled by something he did not understand, bowed. \"I have come to offer the condolences of the Legate at Deva on the death of the Arch-Druid, your grandfather. He will be greatly missed. He was...\" he thought fora moment, \"a remarkable man.\"\n\n\"Our loss is great indeed,\" she answered, and though her tone was colorless, his pulse quickened. \"Will you take some refreshment?\"\n\nIna few moments a maiden in the drab garb of a novice was setting down a tray with honey cakes and a flagon of some drink made with herbs and berries and water, he supposed, from the Sacred Well. He drank, trying to think of something else to say and, looking down, saw that the fabric of her veil was trembling.\n\n\"Eilan,\" he said in a low voice, \"let me see your face. It has been too long.\"\n\nShe gave a little laugh. \"I was a fool. I thought it would be safe to see you again.\" She shrugged then and pulled back the veil, and he saw that her eyes were wet with tears.\n\nGaius blinked, for Eilan looked not older so much as more like herself, as if the girl he had known had been only a blurred sketch of the woman she was to become. Despite the tears and the neck that seemed too slender for the weight of the golden torque, she looked strong. And why not? he thought then. In her own sphere she has wielded as much power as any legionary commander, these past years. This woman could not be the Fury who had so frightened him. His vision blurred with old memories. He wanted to throw himself at her feet and declare his love for her, but that lout with the spear would be on him in a minute if he moved." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Listen, for I do not know how long I can stay here,\" he said quickly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"War is coming-not because of your grandfather's death, but because of events in Rome. I can tell you no more, except that there will be arising against the Emperor. Macellius hopes the British will support us, but there is no telling which way things will go. I must get you to a place of safety, Eilan, you and the boy.\"\n\nEilan looked at him, and her changeable eyes went flat and hard. \"Let me be sure I understand you. Now, when the Imperium is about to tear itself apart, you want to offer me Roman protection. After all these years! Isn't it rather more likely that if there should be trouble during the coming weeks I will be safer here\"-she indicated the walls and the hulking figure of Huw with a graceful wave of her hand-\"than you and yours are likely to be?\"\n\nGaius flushed. \"Are you so sure your own people will never turn on you? Your Oracles have been a force for peace with Rome-and now that your grandfather is not here, whom do you think people like Cynric will blame if things go wrong? Can't you see that you must come with me?\"\n\n\"I must...?\" Her eyes flashed. \"And what does your Roman wife say to this fine plan? Has she tired of you after twelve years?\"\n\n\"Julia has become a Christian and sworn an oath of chastity. That is grounds enough for divorce in Roman law. I could marry you, Eilan, and we could be together. If you will not, I can formally adopt our son!\"\n\n\"So kind of you!\" Eilan's face was now as red as it had been pale. She rose to her feet suddenly and started down the path, her skirts sweeping the gravel behind her. Gaius and Huw jumped up, both of them, it seemed to him, equally taken aback, and followed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At the end of the garden was a hedge, just low enough for Gaius to see over it to a flat space between the buildings and the outer walls where several children were playing with a sewn leather ball. After a few moments it became clear to Gaius that one boy was the leader, a lad as leggy as a young colt who was just beginning to grow into his bones. His curls were tawny on top from a summer in the sun, but underneath they were dark, and as he turned to shout to one of his team-mates, there was something so like Macellius in his expression that it stopped Gaius's breath.\n\nEilan had begun to speak again, but Gaius's gaze was on the boy. His heart was hammering so hard he thought they must hear it in Deva, but the child, intent on his game, never looked around.\n\n\"When I bore him in that hut in the forest, where were you?\" Her voice, low and furious, was pitched for his ears. \"And when I fought to keep him with me, and all these years when I watched over him in secret, never daring to admit he was my own? He does not know I am his mother, but I have kept him safely. Now, when he is almost come to manhood, you would step in and take him away? I think not Gaius Macellius Severus Siluricus!\" she hissed. \"Gawen knows nothing of Rome!\"\n\n\"Eilan!\" he whispered. Gaius had thought what he felt for this child the onetime he had held him had been some fancy; but he could feel it again, a longing that shook his bones. \"Please!\"\n\nShe turned her back and began to move back down the path. \"My thanks to you, Roman, for your sympathy,\" she said loudly and clearly. \"It was kind of you to come. As you say, the death of Ardanos has been a great loss. Do take our respectful greetings back to the Legate and to your father.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gaius saw Huw looming towards him and, still looking over his shoulder, started to follow her. Fora moment Gawen turned towards him, head tipped back, watching the ball. Then he dashed away. Gaius let the big man shepherd him back down the path, feeling as if all the light had gone out of the world.\n\nEilan had pulled her veil back down. His last sight of her was a shadow disappearing into a dark doorway. As Gaius let his horse choose its own way back down to the road he wondered how it could all have gone so wrong. He had been so relieved to find Eilan was unchanged, and he had meant to tell her he still loved her; but he realized now that she was something worse than a Fury: a womanlike the old Empresses, or Boudicca, a woman warped by pride and power.\n\nAbruptly a vision of Senara as he had last seen her gazing up at him overlaid his memory of Eilan's rage. She was so good, and so innocent-as Eilan had been when first he knew her. Eilan had never truly understood him, but Senara was half Roman, as he was, and torn by the same conflicts and uncertainties. If he could win her, it seemed to Gaius he would be whole once more.\n\nHe was not yet beaten. One way or another, he would have Senara, and he would have the boy, though all the Legions of Rome and warriors of the tribes stood between.\n\nEilan spent the days after Gaius's visit in seclusion. The priestesses thought that she was grieving for her grandfather, but although his death had left her shocked and startled, relief rather had predominated. Her reaction to Gaius, however, was another matter entirely. She herself had been as surprised by her own fury as he was. She had not realized how much she had resented his abandonment all these years. It was true that she had agreed to it, but surely he could have tried to contact her before now! How dared he think that he could walk in without a word of love and take her child away..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When her thoughts reached this point she would have to stop herself, walk a little or spend sometime in the disciplined meditation Caillean had taught her, and try to recover her serenity. It was several days before she began seriously to consider what he had said to her. Who, indeed, would now feel himself privileged to instruct her in what she was to say in the name of the Goddess? The last she had heard, the Druids were still arguing. By now it had become clear that anew Arch-Druid would not be chosen until after Lughnasad, so she need not worry about preparing for the festival. But by Samaine, the new leader would be firmly seated in his power. And if it were someone like her father, he would demand that the Goddess call the tribes to war.\n\nWhen Dieda returned to the Forest House and came to see her, Eilan found her own offers of sympathy quickly shrugged off.\n\n\"Ardanos is no loss,\" said her kinswoman callously. \"My father was always in the hands of the Romans. I wonder who will give the orders to the Oracle now?\"\n\nEver since Gawen's birth, Eilan had felt constrained in Dieda's presence. Still, it seemed impossible she should have no feeling whatever for her own father. Eilan missed Caillean, who might have been able to make some sense out of all this, more with every passing day.\n\nDieda was still with her when one of the girls came into tell them that Cynric had come. So the Ravens are gathering, Eilan thought grimly, but she greeted Cynric kindly as a kinsman when Huw brought him in. He looked older than his years, she thought painfully, shaggy as a mountain pony, his fine skin marred by old scars." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What are you doing in this part of the country? I thought you safely away to the North, after things went wrong with Brigitta and the Demetae.\"\n\n\"Oh, I can come and go as I please,\" he said, \"even under the Commander's nose. I am too clever for them.\" He spoke with a kind of brittle gaiety she found disturbing.\n\n\"The proudest beast is soonest taken in the snare of the hunter,\" murmured Dieda sardonically. She pretended to care nothing for Cynric, but Eilan thought she was not so indifferent as she seemed.\n\nCynric shrugged. \"I might well think some god favors me more than common; it is true that I seem to bear a charmed life. I think I could go into Londinium and pull the Governor's beard.\"\n\n\"I would not try it, if I were you,\" Dieda said, and he returned her laughter.\n\n\"I do not intend to try it at this moment; in another month or two it maybe a very different matter. I do not grieve at Ardanos's death; nor should you, Eilan. He was all too eager to have all things ordered as he chose.\"\n\n\"He was indeed,\" she said honestly, though her blood ran cold as she connected what Gaius had told her with Cynric's words.\n\n\"Good; you are honest so far,\" he said. \"I wonder, foster sister, how far your honesty goes.\"\n\nShe said warily, \"I, at least, know what I want.\"\n\n\"Do you? And what is that, Eilan?\"\n\n\"Peace!\" So that my son can grow to be a man, she thought grimly. But there was noway she could say that to Cynric. Ardanos had blighted her own happiness, and that of Cynric and Dieda as well, but at least in the West, the tribes had been at peace fora dozen years." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Cynric grimaced." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Peace-women think too much of it,\" he snorted. \"You sound like Macellius's mouthpiece, as I sometimes thought old Ardanos was. But he is gone. Now we may have a chance to drive out these Romans. Brigitta waits, knowing what we want of her.\"\n\n\"I should think Brigitta had seen enough of war,\" Eilan said.\n\n\"Say rather that she has seen enough of Roman justice,\" Cynric said bitterly. \"But there are strange rumors going about these days. If the Romans do fight each other, perhaps we can free ourselves of what they call justice. Then every Roman home shall be laid waste as was the home of Bendeigid!\"\n\nEilan interrupted. \"Have you forgotten it was not the Romans who leveled the home of my father and killed my mother, but the Hibernians and the wild tribesmen of the North? The Romans themselves punished them.\"\n\n\"For our own homes, who but we should be responsible?\" asked Cynric. \"It is for us to punish or to spare as we see fit. Are we to accept all this like tame dogs, and let the Romans determine whom we should fight and where?\" An angry flush was building beneath the weathered skin.\n\nEilan said stubbornly, \"However it comes, peace is a good thing.\"\n\n\"So you will still speak the traitorous words of Ardanos? Or are they the words of Macellius, or perhaps of his handsome son?\" he asked, sneering.\n\nBehind him the giant bodyguard shifted weight uneasily. Eilan hardly noticed, she was so distressed. \"At least Macellius has the good of both our peoples at heart.\"\n\n\"And I do not?\" Cynric demanded, his eyes flashing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I did not say that, or anything like to it.\"\n\n\"But that is what you meant,\" he threw back at her. \"I know Macellius's cub came here. What did he say to you? With you in the high seat, it seems we hardly need the Romans. But we shall hear such traitorous counsels no longer. Bendeigid has been chosen as Arch-Druid-that is what I came to tell you-and he will give you a very different set of instructions at the next festival!\"\n\nDieda was looking from one to the other, her face flaming. Eilan strove for calm, knowing that Cynric was simply trying to hurt her.\n\n\"It is true that Ardanos told me what he wanted and interpreted the Oracle's answers. But what the Goddess says while I am in trance is not my doing. I do not declare my own will, Cynric,\" she said quietly.\n\n\"Are you trying to tell me the Goddess wishes for this treason?\"\n\n\"Why should She not?\" shouted Eilan. \"She is a mother.\" As I am. Eilan swallowed the words, and added angrily, \"You have no right to speak so tome!\"\n\n\"I am the vengeance of the Goddess,\" snapped Cynric, \"and I speak as I will-and punish-\"\n\nBefore Eilan could react, his lifted hand had connected with her cheek. She cried out, and Dieda exclaimed in shock, \"How dare you?\"\n\n\"Cathubodva knows I dare deal this way with all Romanized traitors!\"\n\nA shadow loomed behind him. Still glaring, Cynric started to turn. Huw's cudgel caught him in motion and his head exploded in a shower of blood and brains. Dieda screamed, and Eilan lifted her hand, but it was too late." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fora moment Cynric's body stood swaying, a surprised look on what was left of his face. Then his body understood its death at last and he crumpled to the floor.\n\nShaking, Eilan touched his wrist, knowing already, as the gush of blood from his head slowed, that she would find no pulse. She looked up at her guard, who was beginning to turn a little green as he stared at the blood.\n\n\"Huw-why did you do it? Why?\"\n\n\"Lady... he hit you!\"\n\nEilan bowed her head. Even if the offender had been Ardanos himself Huw would have struck him. He had been taught that the Priestess was inviolable. But Cynric's death would have to be concealed. His followers were not many, but they were desperate. If they decide to avenge him, the precarious unity she had built among her people would be shattered. Cynric dead might be more dangerous than he had ever been alive.\n\nDieda turned away, weeping. Eilan felt that she herself was beyond tears. \"Go away, Huw,\" she said tiredly. \"Go tell Miellyn what has happened and ask her to send a message to the new Arch-Druid.\" My father... she thought numbly, but she had no time now to consider the implications. \"Speak to no others,\" she instructed, \"and when you have carried this message, forget what has happened here today.\"\n\nShe got to her feet, feeling suddenly a hundred years old. \"Dieda, come to the garden. There is nothing you can do for him now.\" She went to comfort the weeping woman, but Dieda jerked away.\n\n\"Is it so you reward faithfulness to our people? Then have your tame bear kill me too.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eilan winced. \"I tried to save him. I would have willingly given my own life-\"\n\n\"Oh indeed, that's easy enough to say-\" Dieda turned on her. \"But you take lives, not give them. You fed on Caillean's wisdom, and sent her into exile when you had drained her dry. You stole my reputation, and walked away with your honor as bright as a newborn babe's. And now you have taken the life of the only man I ever loved! Your Roman was lucky to be rid of you! Eilan the inviolate! Lady High and Mighty! If only they knew!\"\n\nEilan said wearily, \"None of us held a sword to your throat to bid you take vows here, Dieda. When it was clear they had chosen me, you could have been released, and when you went to Eriu, no force was used to bid you return. I have said this before, but I suppose you could not hear.\" She tried to speak calmly, but the other woman's words struck harder than Cynric's blow.\n\n\"I told you once to beware if ever you betrayed our people. Was Cynric right, Eilan? Have you been working for Rome all along?\"\n\nEilan lifted her head and, trembling, stared into that other face, so like her own. \"I swear... that I have served the Goddess as well as I could,\" she said hoarsely, \"and may the sky fall and cover me, the earth rise up to swallow me, if I lie.\" She took a deep breath. \"I am still High Priestess of Vernemeton. But you may go to Caillean, or wherever else you will, if you feel that you can no longer serve the Goddess in my company!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Slowly Dieda began to shake her head, a sly expression that Eilan liked even less than her rage creeping into her eyes.\n\n\"I won't leave you,\" she whispered. \"I wouldn't leave now for the world. I want to be here when the Goddess strikes you down!\"\n\nSenara was already waiting outside the hut in the forest when Gaius arrived, her bright hairlike aflame against the dark trees. \"I see you have come,\" he said softly.\n\nSenara turned and, although she had expected him, gave a small startled cry. \"Is it you?\"\n\n\"No other,\" he said, almost gaily, \"in spite of the evil weather. I daresay we shall have rain, and that speedily.\" He looked at the sky. \"What, think you, would Father Petros say to lending the shelter of his roof to a couple of wayfarers?\"\n\n\"For converts I think he would be delighted. I do not think he would do so to pagans,\" she said reprovingly.\n\nThey moved inside together. The hermit's furnishings consisted of some dilapidated benches and, against the wall, a clumsy box bed. But where, this evening, was Father Petros? Outside the storm broke with a rattle of wind and a slam of rain. Gaius winced, listening to the thunder.\n\n\"You see, we made it here just in time,\" he said. \"Bellissima!\"\n\n\"You must not call me so,\" she said timidly.\n\n\"No?\" he queried, watching her carefully. \"But I thought truth was one of your Christian virtues. The Stoics say so, and even among the Druids, I have heard, truth-telling is valued. Would you have me lie to you, then?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You know how to best me with words,\" she said crossly. \"We came hereto speak of the state of your soul.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes, a thing that I am not yet convinced I possess.\"\n\nShe said, \"I am no philosopher. But do not even the Stoics whom you have mentioned, speak of that part of a man which deals with the evidence of that which you can neither see nor feel?\"\n\n\"They do; it is that which convinces me that of all women you are the most desirable.\"\n\nHe knew that he was pushing the girl, but the storm, rather than relieving the tension, seemed to have filled him with its own intensity. He had spent the days since his meeting with Eilan in turmoil, alternately raging and in despair. He would have taken her away and done his duty by her, but she had denied him. Julia too had forfeited her claim to him. Surely he was free now to seek comfort elsewhere! And when he told Senara she was beautiful, he had not lied.\n\nShe blushed and said timidly, \"It is not well done of you to speak so tome.\"\n\n\"On the contrary, I think it is very well done, and you would have me speak the truth. And for what else were you created as a woman?\"\n\nNow she was on familiar ground, having listened to many catechumens. \"Scripture tells us,\" she replied, \"that we were created for the purpose of giving worship to the Creator.\"\n\n\"How dull for him,\" Gaius answered. \"If I were a god, I would ask more of men than that they should spend their leisure in worshipping me.\"\n\n\"But it is not for the Created to question the ways of the Creator.\"\n\n\"Why not?\" Gaius pursued." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Is there anything better to do than worship God?\" she demanded, raising her eyes to his. Flushed, like this, she looked still more beautiful.\n\nCertainly there is, Gaius thought, and I would rather be doing it with you. If there was a god, he had created women's beauty, and Gaius could not believe he would condemn any man for appreciating it. But it was not yet time to say so.\n\n\"Tell me, then, about this Creator.\"\n\n\"Almost every faith-except perhaps that of Rome who worship only their Emperor who is all evil-speaks of a Creator. It was He who made all things that were made, and He placed us hereto worship Him.\"\n\n\"Properly speaking, it is the genius of the Emperor that we honor, the divine spark that guides him, and through him, the Empire, not the man. That is why those who will not burn incense are prosecuted as traitors.\"\n\n\"There may have been good Emperors, though some of the priests would not believe it,\" Senara conceded. \"But even you will own that Nero, who burned so many Christians in his arena, was an evil one.\"\n\n\"I will grant you Nero,\" Gaius said, \"and Caligula. And there are those in Rome who feel that Domitian in his hubris has gone too far. When that happens, those who made a man Emperor have the right to replace him.\" And soon, he thought, shivering. September was passing quickly.\n\n\"You are very proud of being a Roman,\" she said then. \"I do not know very much about my mother's family and have always wondered what it would have been like to be raised that way. Were you born in Rome?\"\n\nHe grinned at her. \"Indeed not; I am half British, just as you are. My mother was a royal woman of the Silures. She died when I was very young, bearing my little sister.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ah, how sad for you.\" Her eyes suddenly overflowed; he had not noticed that they were so blue. \"What did you do then?\"\n\n\"I stayed with my father,\" Gaius told her. \"I was his only son, so he had me well educated by tutors, and taught to read Latin and Greek; then I went into the Legions. There is really nothing more to tell.\"\n\n\"And were there no women in your life?\"\n\nHe could see her fighting this purely worldly curiosity; but he thought it a good sign that she wanted to know.\n\n\"My father arranged my marriage with Julia when I was very young,\" he said carefully. One day she would have to know about Eilan and their son, but not yet. \"And as you may know, my wife has taken avow of chastity, which means I am alone,\" he said sadly. Outside, the thunder crashed.\n\nShe said, \"I should not say this, and I am certain Father Petros would not approve, but that seems not fair dealing. I know that avow of chastity is supposed to be the best of all ways to live, but when she has pledged herself to you-\"\n\n\"If you were married tome, would you take such avow?\"\n\nShe flushed again, but said seriously, \"I would not. The learned Paulus wrote that those who were married should continue in that state, and those who were not married should not marry.\"\n\n\"If I had married you, you would have taken your vows more seriously than Julia,\" he said softly.\n\n\"I could never be untrue to avow to you.\"\n\n\"And you have not taken vows in the Forest House?\" She was still looking at the floor, but Gaius moved a little closer, feeling the blood run faster beneath his skin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have not,\" she said. \"They have all been very kind tome, and asked very little, but I cannot serve their Goddess without giving up my Roman heritage. I will have to decide soon.\"\n\n\"There is another alternative.\" His voice grew hoarse as he took in the sweet scent of her hair, but he kept it low. \"Julia has forfeited her rights as my wife by her vow of chastity, and we were married by Roman, not by Christian rites. I would marry you, Senara-or Valeria, as your mother called you. Your uncle Valerius is a good man; he would be happy if I were to take you away from here.\"\n\nHe heard her breath catch. She was like some bright bird hovering almost within reach of his hand, like Eilan when she came to him at Beltane, so many years ago. But Eilan and Julia had rejected him; they were shadows, banished by the living reality of this girl who stood so close to him now.\n\n\"If only it could be,\" she whispered. \"Where would we go?\"\n\n\"To Londinium, or even to Rome. Great changes are coming. I can tell you no more, but there is nothing we might not do, together, if you would come with me!\"\n\nNot to touch her then seemed the hardest thing he had ever done, for he was mad now with uncertainty and need. But he knew that if he did he would lose her. Senara looked up and he faced her, letting the ardor that filled him glow in his eyes.\n\nShe did not flee. Trembling, she said softly, \"I wish I knew what to do.\"\n\nBe mine, he said silently. Help me to raise my son! Surely, she would accept Gawen. That was why he needed her, after all, and not some wealthy Roman maiden who would despise Gawen's British blood. It was for the sake of the boy..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now, at last, Gaius dared caress her; she did not pull away, but he felt her tremble at his touch. Afraid to frighten her, he lifted his hands.\n\n\"Oh, what shall I do? God help me,\" she whispered, turning her head so that her cheek lay against his hand.\n\n\"I think,\" he whispered into her ear, \"that it must be your God who has brought us together.\"\n\n\"God grant you are right.\"\n\n\"I will go to your uncle and get his authority to take you from the Forest House. Be ready to leave when I come for you,\" he said. \"By the time the next moon has waned you will be on your way to Londinium with me.\"\n\nOnce again, with a great effort, he did not touch her. He had his reward when she shyly stood on tiptoe and whispered, \"My brother, let us exchange the kiss of peace.\"\n\n\"Ah, Valeria, it is not the kiss of peace I want from you,\" he whispered into her fine-spun hair. \"And someday you will know it.\"\n\nShe broke away from him; and with anew wisdom-or guile-he let her go. Justin time, for in the next momenta step sounded, and the hermit, Father Petros entered. Senara, he was surprised to see, greeted the hermit without a blush. Had all women that trick of hiding their feelings on the instant? He remembered with what swiftness Eilan, too, had been able to conceal her emotions.\n\nShe said, \"Rejoice, Father. Gaius Macellius has promised to take me from the Druid temple and find me anew home, perhaps even in Rome.\"\n\nFather Petros looked sharply at Gaius; he was not as naive as the girl. Gaius said, \"Senara has been trying to show me, Good Father, why I ought to become one of your congregation.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And will you do so?\" The priest regarded him suspiciously.\n\nGaius said quietly, \"She has certainly been most persuasive.\"\n\nFather Petros positively glowed. \"I will welcome you to my flock as a son,\" he said fulsomely. \"You will set a fine example for the others of your class.\"\n\nIndeed, thought Gaius, a Roman nobleman with my connections would be a good catch for this fisher of men. So much for the idea that Christians were no respecters of persons. But there must be some good in it, to have attracted a girl like Senara." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Aid the author by keeping the plot going.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, last battle\nAuthor: Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson\nTitle: The Gathering Storm\nChapter: 12" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Katerine stepped up beside Egwene, face paling." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nobody liked to speak of the unnatural way rooms and corridors changed places in the Tower. The transformations made fora solemn reminder that squabbles over authority were secondary to larger, horrible troubles in the world. This was the first time Egwene had seen not only a corridor moved, but a depiction altered as well. The Dark One stirred, and the very Pattern itself was shaking.\n\nEgwene turned and stalked away from the misplaced mural. She couldn't focus on those problems right now. You scrubbed a floor clean by first picking a single spot and getting to work. She'd picked her spot. The White Tower had to be made whole.\n\nUnfortunately, this detour was going to take more time. Egwene reluctantly hastened her pace; it wouldn't do to be early, but she'd prefer not to be late either. Her two watchers hurried as well, skirts swishing as they backtracked through several corridors. As they did, Egwene caught sight of Alviarin hurrying around a corner, head down, walking toward the study of the Mistress of Novices. So she was going to her punishment after all. What had caused her to delay?\n\nTwo more turns and one flight of cold stone steps later, Egwene found herself cutting through the Red Ajah section of the Tower, as that now provided the quickest route up to the Amyrlin's quarters. Red tapestries hung on the walls, accented by crimson tiles on the floor. The women walking the corridors wore expressions of a near uniform austerity, their shawls draped carefully over their shoulders and arms. Here, in their own Ajah's quarters where they should be confident, they seemed insecure and suspicious, even of those servants who bustled about, bearing the Flame of Tar Valon on their chests. Egwene passed through the hallways, wishing she didn't have to hurry so, as it made her look cowed. There was nothing to be done about it. At the center of the Tower, she climbed several flights of stairs, eventually reaching the hallway that led to the Amyrlin's quarters." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her busyness with novice chores and lessons had left her with little time to consider her confrontation with the false Amyrlin. This was the woman who had pulled down Siuan, the woman who had beaten Rand, and the woman who had pushed the Aes Sedai themselves to the very brink of collapse. Elaida needed to know Egwene's anger, she needed to be humiliated and made ashamed! She....\n\nEgwene stopped in front of Elaida's gilded door. No.\n\nShe could imagine the scene easily. Elaida enraged, Egwene banished to the dark cells beneath the Tower. What good would that do? She could not confront the woman, not yet. That would only lead to momentary satisfaction followed by a debilitating failure.\n\nBut light, she couldn't bow to Elaida either! The Amyrlin did no such thing!\n\nOr... no. The Amyrlin did what was required of her. Which was more important? The White Tower, or Egwene's pride? The only way to win this battle was to let Elaida think that she was winning. No... No, the only way to win was to let Elaida think there was no battle.\n\nCould Egwene keep a civil tongue long enough to survive this night? She wasn't certain. However, she needed to leave this dinner with Elaida feeling that she was in control, that Egwene was properly cowed. The best way to achieve that while maintaining some measure of pride would be to say nothing at all.\n\nSilence. That would be her weapon this evening. Steeling herself, Egwene knocked.\n\nHer first surprise came when an Aes Sedai opened the door. Didn't Elaida have servants to perform that function? Egwene didn't recognize the sister, but the ageless face was obvious. The woman was of the Gray, as indicated by her shawl, and she was slender with a full bust. Her golden brown hair fell to the middle of her back, and she had a haunted cast to her eyes, as if she'd been under great strain recently." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Elaida sat inside. Egwene hesitated in the doorway, looking in at her rival for the first time since departing from the White Tower with Nynaeve and Elayne to hunt the Black Ajah, a turning point that seemed an eternity ago. Handsome and statuesque, Elaida seemed to have lost a small measure of her sternness. She sat, secure and smiling faintly, as if thinking on some joke that only she understood. Her chair was almost a throne, carved, gilded and painted with red and white. There was a second place set at the table, presumably for the nameless Gray sister.\n\nEgwene had never visited an Amyrlin's own quarters before, but she could imagine what Siuan's might have looked like. Simple, yet not stark. Just enough ornamentation to indicate that this was the room of someone important, but not enough to become a distraction. Under Siuan, everything would have served a function-perhaps several functions at once. Tables with hidden compartments. Wall hangings that doubled as maps. Crossed swords over the hearth that were oiled, should the Warders need them.\n\nOr perhaps that was just fancy. Regardless, not only had Elaida taken different rooms for her quarters; her decorations were notably rich. The entire suite hadn't been decorated yet-there was talk that she was adding to her rooms day by day-but what was there was very lavish. New silk brocades, all of red, hung from the walls and ceilings. The Tairen rug underfoot depicted birds aflight, and was so finely woven that it could almost be mistaken fora painting. Scattered through the room were pieces of furniture of a dozen different styles and makes, each one lavishly carved and inlaid with ivory. Here a series of vines, there a knobby ridged design, there crisscrossing serpents." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "More infuriating than the extravagance was the stole across Elaida's shoulders. It was striped with six colors. Not seven, but six! Though Egwene had not chosen an Ajah herself, she would have taken the Green. But that didn't stop her from feeling a surge of anger at seeing that shawl with blue removed. One did not simply disband one of the Ajahs, even if one were the Amyrlin Seat!\n\nBut Egwene held her tongue. This meeting was about survival. Egwene could bear straps of pain for the good of the Tower. Could she bear Elaida's arrogance as well?\n\n\"No curtsy?\" Elaida asked as Egwene entered the room. \"They said that you were stubborn. Well, then, you shall visit the Mistress of Novices when this supper is through and inform her of the lapse. What do you say to that?\"\n\nThat you area plague upon this structure as vile and destructive as any disease that has struck city and people in all years past. That you-\n\nEgwene broke her gaze away from Elaida's. And-feeling the shame of it vibrate through her very bones-she bowed her head.\n\nElaida laughed, obviously taking the gesture the right way. \"Honestly, I expected you to be more trouble. It appears that Silviana does know her duty. That is well; I had worried that she, like far too many in the Tower lately, had been shirking. Well, be busy with you. I won't wait all night to dine.\"\n\nEgwene clenched her fists, but said nothing. The back wall was set with along serving table bearing several silver platters, their polished domed lids dripping with condensation from the heated contents. There was also a silver soup tureen. To the side, the Gray sister hovered near the door. Light! The woman was terrified. Egwene had rarely seen such an expression on a sister. What was causing it?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Come, Meidani,\" Elaida said to the Gray. \"Are you going to hover all night? Sit down!\"\n\nEgwene covered a moment of shock. Meidani? She was one of those sent by Sheriam and the others to spy on the White Tower! As Egwene checked the contents of each platter, she shot a glance over her shoulder. Meidani had found her way to the small, less ornate seat at Elaida's side. Did the Gray always wear such finery to supper? Her neck sparkled with emeralds and her muted green dress was of the most expensive silk, accentuating a bosom that might have been average on another woman, but that seemed ample on Meidani's slender body.\n\nBeonin said she'd warned the Gray sisters that Elaida knew they were spies. So why hadn't Meidani fled the Tower? What was holding her here?\n\nWell, at least now the woman's expression of terror made sense. \"Meidani,\" Elaida said, sipping from a goblet of wine, \"you are rather wan this day. Have you been getting enough sun?\"\n\n\"I have been spending a great deal of time with historical records, Elaida,\" Meidani said, voice uneven. \"Have you forgotten?\"\n\n\"Ah, that is right,\" Elaida said musingly. \"It will be good to know how traitors have been treated in the past. Beheading seems too easy and simple a punishment tome. Those who split our Tower, those who flaunt their defection, a very special reward will be needed for them. Well, continue your search then.\"\n\nMeidani sat down, hands in lap. Anyone other than an Aes Sedai would have had to mop her brow free of sweat. Egwene stirred the silver tureen, hand clutching the ladle with a white-knuckled grip. Elaida knew. She knew that Meidani was a spy, and yet she still invited the woman to dinner. To play with her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hurry up, girl,\" Elaida snapped at Egwene.\n\nEgwene plucked up the tureen, the handles warm beneath her fingers, and walked over to the small table. She filled the bowls with a brownish broth bobbing with Queen's Crown mushrooms. It smelled so heavily peppered that any other flavor would be indistinguishable. So much food had gone bad that without spice, the soup would be inedible.\n\nEgwene worked mechanically, like a wagon wheel rolling behind the oxen. She didn't have to make choices; she didn't have to respond. She just worked. She filled the soup bowls precisely, then fetched the breadbasket and placed one piece-not too crusty-on each small porcelain bread saucer. She returned with a circular dab of butter for each, cut quickly but precisely from the larger brick with a couple of flicks of the knife. One did not spend long as an innkeeper's daughter without learning to serve a proper meal.\n\nEven as she worked, she stewed. Each step was agony, and not because of her still-burning backside. That physical pain, oddly, seemed insignificant now. It was secondary to the pain of remaining silent, the pain of not allowing herself to confront this awful woman, so regal, so arrogant.\n\nAs the two women began their soup-pointedly ignoring the weevils in their bread-Egwene retreated to the side of the room and stood, hands clasped before her, posture stiff. Elaida glanced at her, then smiled, apparently seeing another sign of subservience. In reality, Egwene didn't trust herself to move, for she feared that any activity would end with her slapping Elaida across the face. Light, but this was hard!\n\n\"What talk is therein the Tower, Meidani?\" Elaida asked, dipping her bread in the soup." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I... don't have much time to listen....\"\n\nElaida leaned forward. \"Oh, surely you know something. You have ears, and even Grays must gossip. What are they saying about those rebels?\"\n\nMeidani paled further. \"I... I...\"\n\n\"Hmm,\" Elaida said. \"When we were novices, I don't remember you being so slow of wit, Meidani. You haven't impressed me these last few weeks; I begin to wonder why you were ever given the shawl. Perhaps it never belonged on your shoulders in the first place.\"\n\nMeidani's eyes opened wide.\n\nElaida smiled at her. \"Oh, I'm only teasing you, child. Back to your meal.\"\n\nShe joked! Joked about how she had stolen the shawl from a woman, humiliating her to such an extent that she fled the Tower. Light! What had happened to Elaida? Egwene had met this woman before, and Elaida had struck her as stern, but not tyrannical. Power changed people. It appeared that in Elaida's case, holding the Amyrlin Seat had taken her sternness and solemnity and replaced them with a heady sense of entitlement and cruelty.\n\nMeidani looked up. \"I... I have heard sisters express worry about the Seanchan.\"\n\nElaida waved an indifferent hand, sipping her soup. \"Bah. They are too distant to be of danger to us. I wonder if they're secretly working for the Dragon Reborn. Either way, I suspect that the rumors about them are largely exaggerated.\" Elaida glanced at Egwene. \"It's a source of constant amusement tome that some will believe anything that they hear.\"\n\nEgwene couldn't speak. She could barely have sputtered. How would Elaida feel about these'exaggerated\" rumors if the Seanchan slapped a cold a'dam around her idiot neck? Egwene could sometimes feel that band on her own skin, itching, impossible to move. Sometimes, it still made her faintly sick to move around freely, as if she felt that she should be locked away, chained to the post on the wall by a simple loop of metal." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She knew what she had dreamed, and knew those dreams to be prophetic. The Seanchan would strike at the White Tower itself. Elaida, obviously, discounted her warnings.\n\n\"No,\" Elaida said, waving for Egwene to bring another ladle of soup. \"These Seanchan are not the problem. The real danger is the complete lack of obedience shown by the Aes Sedai. What will I have to do to end those foolish talks at the bridges? How many sisters will have to do penance before they acknowledge my authority?\" She sat, tapping her spoon against her soup cup. Egwene, at the serving table, picked up the tureen, retrieving the ladle from its silver holder.\n\n\"Yes,\" Elaida mused, \"if the sisters had been obedient, then the Tower wouldn't be divided. Those rebels would have obeyed rather than running off like a silly flock of startled birds. If the sisters were obedient, we would have the Dragon Reborn in our hands, and those horrid men training in their'Black Tower' would have been dealt with long ago. What do you think, Meidani?\"\n\n\"I... obedience is certainly important, Elaida.\"\n\nElaida shook her head as Egwene ladled soup into her bowl. \"Anyone would admit that, Meidani. I asked what should be done. Fortunately, I have an idea myself. Doesn't it strike you as strange that the Three Oaths contain no mention of obedience to the White Tower? Sisters cannot lie, cannot make a weapon for men to kill other men, and cannot use the Power as a weapon against others except in defense. Those oaths have always seemed too lax tome. Why no oath to obey the Amyrlin? If that simple promise were part of all of us, how much pain and difficulty could we have avoided? Perhaps some revision is in order.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Egwene stood still. Once, she herself hadn't understood the importance of the oaths. She suspected that many a novice and Accepted had questioned their usefulness. But she had learned, as every Aes Sedai must, their importance. The Three Oaths were what made the Aes Sedai. They were what kept the Aes Sedai doing what was best for the world, but more than that, they were a shelter from accusations.\n\nChanging them... well, it would bean unprecedented disaster. Elaida should know that. The false Amyrlin just turned back to her soup, smiling to herself, no doubt contemplating a fourth oath to demand obedience. Couldn't she see how that would undermine the Tower itself? It would transform the Amyrlin from a leader to a despot!\n\nEgwene's rage boiled within her, steaming like the soup in her hands. This woman, this... creature! She was the cause of the problems in the White Tower, she was the one who caused division between rebels and loyalists. She had taken Rand captive and beaten him. She was a disaster!\n\nEgwene felt herself shaking. In another moment, she'd burst and let Elaida hear truth. It was boiling free from her, and she could barely contain it.\n\nNo! she thought. If I do that, my battle ends. I lose my war.\n\nSo Egwene did the only thing she could think of to stop herself. She dumped the soup on the floor.\n\nBrownish liquid sprayed across the delicate rug of red, yellow and green birds aflight. Elaida cursed, jumping up from her seat and backing away from the spill. None of the liquid had gotten on her dress, which was a shame. Egwene calmly snatched a serving towel off of the table and began to mop up the spill." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You clumsy idiot!\" Elaida snapped.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" Egwene said, \"I wish that hadn't happened.\" And she did. She wished none of this evening had occurred. She wished Elaida weren't in control; she wished the Tower had never been broken. She wished she hadn't been forced to spill the soup on the floor. But she had. And so she dealt with it, kneeling and scrubbing.\n\nElaida sputtered, pointing. \"That rug is worth more than your entire village, wilder! Meidani, help her!\"\n\nThe Gray didn't offer a single objection. She scurried over and grabbed a bucket of chilled water, which had been cooling some wine, and hurried back to help Egwene. Elaida moved over to a door on the far side of the room to call for servants.\n\n\"Send for me,\" Egwene whispered as Meidani knelt down to help clean.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Send for me to give me instruction,\" Egwene said quietly, glancing at Elaida, whose back was turned. \"We need to speak.\"\n\nEgwene had originally intended to avoid the Salidar spies, letting Beonin act as her messenger. But she had too many questions. Why hadn't Meidani fled the Tower? What were the spies planning? Had any of the others been adopted by Elaida and beaten down as soundly as Meidani?\n\nMeidani glanced at Elaida, then back at Egwene. \"I may not seem it sometimes, but I'm still Aes Sedai, girl. You cannot order me.\"\n\n\"I am your Amyrlin, Meidani,\" Egwene said calmly, wringing a towelful of soup into a pitcher. \"And you would do best to remember it. Unless you want the Three Oaths replaced with vows to serve Elaida for eternity.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Meidani glanced at her, then cringed at Elaida's shrill calls for servants. The poor woman had obviously seen a hard time lately.\n\nEgwene laid a hand on her shoulder. \"Elaida can be unseated, Meidani. The Tower will be reunited. I will see it happen, but we must keep courage. Send for me.\"\n\nMeidani looked up, studying Egwene. \"How... how do you do it? They say you are punished three and four times a day, that you need Healing between so that they can beat you further. How can you take it?\"\n\n\"I take it because I must,\" Egwene said, lowering her hand. \"Just as we all do what we must. Your service here watching Elaida is difficult, I can see, but know that your work is noticed and appreciated.\"\n\nEgwene didn't know if Meidani really had been sent to spy on Elaida, but it was always better fora woman to think that her suffering was fora good purpose. It seemed to have been the right thing to say, for Meidani straightened, taking heart and nodding. \"Thank you.\"\n\nElaida was returning, behind her three servants.\n\n\"Send for me,\" Egwene ordered Meidani again, voice a whisper. \"I am one of the few in this Tower who has a good excuse to move between the various Ajah quarters. I can help heal what has been broken, but I will need your help.\"\n\nMeidani hesitated, then nodded. \"Very well.\"\n\n\"You!\" Elaida snapped, stepping up to Egwene. \"Out! I want you to tell Silviana to strap you as she's never strapped a woman before! I want her to punish you, then Heal you on the spot, then beat you again! Go!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Egwene stood, handing her towel to one of the servants." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then she walked to the exit.\n\n\"And don't think that your clumsiness has allowed you to escape your duties,\" Elaida continued from behind. \"You will return and serve me again on another date. And if you so much as spill another drop, I will have you locked away in a cell with no windows or lights fora week. Do you understand?\"\n\nEgwene left the room. Had this woman ever been a true Aes Sedai, in control of her emotions?\n\nYet Egwene herself had lost control of her emotions. She should never have let herself get to a point where she'd been forced to drop the soup. She had underestimated how infuriating Elaida could be, but that would not happen again. She calmed herself as she walked, breathing in and out. Rage did her no good. You didn't get mad at the weasel who was sneaking into your yard and eating your hens. You simply laid a trap and disposed of the animal. Anger was pointless.\n\nHands still smelling faintly of pepper and spices, she made her way down to the lowest level of the Tower, to the novices'dining hall beside the main kitchens. Egwene had worked in those kitchens herself frequently during the last nine days; every novice was required to work chores. The smells of the place-charcoal and smoke, simmering soups and sharp, unscented soaps-were very familiar to her. The smells weren't that different, actually, from the kitchen of her father's inn back in the Two Rivers.\n\nThe white-walled room was empty, the tables sitting unattended, though there was a small tray on one of them, covered with a pot lid to keep it warm. Her cushion was there as well, left by the novices to soften the hard bench. Egwene approached, but ignored the cushion as she always did, though she was grateful for the gesture. She sat and removed the lid from the meal. Unfortunately, all she found was a bowl of the same brownish soup. There was no hint of the roast, gravy or long, thin buttered beans that had made up the rest of Elaida's meal." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Still, it was food, and Egwene's stomach was grateful for it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Elaida hadn't ordered that she immediately go for punishment, and so Silviana's order that she eat first took precedence. Or, at least, there was enough of an argument thereto protect her.\n\nShe ate quietly, alone. The soup was indeed spicy, and it tasted as much of pepper as it had smelled, but she didn't mind. Other than that, it was actually quite good. She'd also been left a few slices of bread, though she'd gotten the ends of the loaf. All in all, not a bad meal for someone who had thought she might get nothing.\n\nEgwene ate contemplatively, listening to Laras and the scullions bang pots at washing up in the other room, surprised at how calm she felt. She had changed; something was different about her. Watching Elaida, finally confronting the woman who had been her rival all of these months, forced her to look at what she was doing in anew light.\n\nShe had imagined herself undermining Elaida and seizing control of the White Tower from within. Now she realized that she didn't need to undermine Elaida. The woman was fully capable of doing that herself. Why, Egwene could picture the reaction of the Sitters and Ajah heads when Elaida announced her intention to change the Three Oaths!\n\nElaida would topple eventually, with or without Egwene's help. Egwene's duty, as Amyrlin, wasn't to speed that fall-but to do whatever she could to hold the Tower and its occupants together. They couldn't afford to fracture further. Her duty was to hold back the chaos and destruction that threatened them all, to reforge the Tower. As she finished off her soup, using the last piece of bread to wipe the remnants from the bowl, she realized she had to do whatever she could to be a strength to the sisters in the Tower. Time was growing very short. What was Rand doing to the world without guidance? When would the Seanchan attack to the north? They'd have to cut through Andor to get to Tar Valon, and what destruction would that cause? Surely she had sometime to reforge the Tower before the attack came, but no moments to waste." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Egwene took her dish into the kitchen proper and washed it herself, earning a nod of approval from the hefty Mistress of the Kitchens. After that, Egwene made her way up to Silviana's study. She needed to get her punishment done quickly; she still intended to visit Leane tonight, as washer custom. Egwene knocked, then entered, finding Silviana at her desk, leafing through a thick tome by the light of two silver lamps. When Egwene entered, Silviana marked the page with a small length of red cloth, then shut it. The worn cover read Meditations on the Kindling Flame, a history of the rise of various Amyrlins. Curious.\n\nEgwene sat down on a stool before the desk-not flinching at the immediate sharp pain of her backside-and spoke calmly about the evening, omitting the fact that she'd dropped the bowl of soup on purpose. She did, however, say that she'd dropped it after Elaida had talked of revoking and changing the Three Oaths.\n\nSilviana looked very thoughtful at that.\n\n\"Well,\" the woman said, standing up and fetching her lash, \"the Amyrlin has spoken.\"\n\n\"Yes, I have,\" Egwene said, standing up and positioning herself on the table, skirts and shift up for the beating.\n\nSilviana hesitated, and then the strapping began. Oddly, Egwene felt no desire to cry out. It hurt, of course, but she just couldn't scream. How ridiculous the punishment was!\n\nShe remembered her pain at seeing the sisters pass in the hallways, regarding one another with fear, suspicion and distrust. She remembered the agony of serving Elaida while holding her tongue. And she remembered the sheer horror at the idea of everyone in the Tower being bound by oath to obey such a tyrant." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Egwene remembered her pity for poor Meidani. No sister should be treated in such away. Imprisonment was one thing. But beating a woman down, toying with her, hinting at the torture to come? It was insufferable.\n\nEach of these things was a pain inside of Egwene, a knife to the chest, piercing the heart. As the beating continued, she realized that nothing they could do to her body would ever compare to the pain of soul she felt at seeing the White Tower suffer beneath Elaida's hand. Compared with those internal agonies, the beating was ridiculous.\n\nAnd so she began to laugh.\n\nIt wasn't a forced laugh. It wasn't a defiant laugh. It was the laughter of disbelief. Of incredulity. How could they think that beating her would solve anything? It was ludicrous!\n\nThe lashing stopped. Egwene turned. Surely that wasn't all of it!\n\nSilviana was regarding her with a concerned expression. \"Child?\" she asked. \"Are you all right?\"\n\n\"I am quite well.\"\n\n\"You... are certain? How are your thoughts?\"\n\nShe thinks I've broken under the strain, Egwene realized. She beats me and I laugh from it.\n\n\"My thoughts are well,\" Egwene said. \"I don't laugh because I've been broken, Silviana. I laugh because it is absurd to beat me.\"\n\nThe woman's expression darkened.\n\n\"Can't you see it?\" Egwene asked. \"Don't you feel the pain? The agony of watching the Tower crumble around you? Could any beating compare to that?\"\n\nSilviana did not respond.\n\nI understand, Egwene thought. I didn't realize what the Aiel did. I assumed that I just had to be harder, and that was what would teach me to laugh at pain. But it's not hardness at all. It's not strength that makes me laugh. It's understanding." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "To let the Tower fall, to let the Aes Sedai fail-the pain of that would destroy her. She had to stop it, for she was the Amyrlin Seat.\n\n\"I cannot refuse to punish you,\" Silviana said. \"You realize that.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Egwene said. \"But please remind me of something. What was it you said about Shemerin? Why was it Elaida got away with taking the shawl from her?\"\n\n\"It was because Shemerin accepted it,\" Silviana replied. \"She treated herself as if she really had lost the shawl. She didn't fightback.\"\n\n\"I will not make the same mistake, Silviana. Elaida can say whatever she wants. But that doesn't change who I am, or who any of us are. Even if she tries to change the Three Oaths, there will be those who resist, who hold to what is correct. And so, when you beat me, you beat the Amyrlin Seat. And that should be amusing enough to make us both laugh.\"\n\nThe punishment continued, and Egwene embraced the pain, took it into herself, and judged it insignificant, impatient for the punishment to cease.\n\nShe had a lot of work to do." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Aviendha crouched with her spear-sisters and some True Blood scouts atop the low, grassy hill, looking down at the refugees. They were a sorry lot, these Domani wetlanders, with dirtied faces that had not seen a sweat tent in months, their emaciated children too hungry to cry. One sad mule pulled a single cart among the hundred struggling people; what they hadn't piled in the vehicle they carried. There wasn't much of either. They plodded northeast along a pathway that couldn't quite be called a road. Perhaps there was a village in that direction. Perhaps they were just fleeing the uncertainty of the coastal lands.\n\nThe hilly landscape was open save for the occasional stand of trees. The refugees hadn't seen Aviendha and her companions, despite the fact that they were less than a hundred paces away. She'd never understood how wetlanders could be so blind. Didn't they watch, noting any oddities on the horizon? Couldn't they see that traveling so near to a hilltop practically invited scouts to spy on them? They should have secured the hill with their own scouts before coming anywhere near.\n\nDidn't they care? Aviendha shivered. How could you not care about eyes watching you, eyes that might belong to a manor Maiden holding a spear? Were they so eager to wake from the dream? Aviendha did not fear death, but there was a very big difference between embracing death and wishing for it.\n\nCities, she thought, they're the problem. Cities were stinking, festering places, like sores that never healed. Some were better than others-Elayne did an admirable job with Caemlyn-but the best of them gathered too many people and taught them to grow comfortable staying in one place. If those refugees had been accustomed to travel and had learned to use their own feet, rather than relying on horses as wetlanders so often did, then it would not be so difficult for them to leave their towns. Among the Aiel, the craftsmen were trained to defend themselves, the children could live off the land for days, and even blacksmiths could travel great distances quickly. An entire sept could be on the move within an hour, carrying everything they needed on their backs." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Wetlanders were strange, doubtless. Still, she felt pity for the refugees. The emotion surprised her. While she was not heartless, her duty lay elsewhere, with Rand al'Thor. She had no reason to feel heartsore fora group of wetlanders she'd never met. But time spent with her first-sister, Elayne Trakand, had taught her that not all wetlanders were soft and weak. Just most of them. There was ji in caring for those who could not care for themselves.\n\nWatching these refugees, Aviendha tried to see them as Elayne would, but she still struggled to understand Elayne's form of leadership. It was not the simple leadership of a group of Maidens on a raid-that was both instinctive and efficient. Elayne would not watch these refugees for signs of danger or hidden soldiers. Elayne would feel a responsibility to them, even if they were not of her own people. She would find away to send food, perhaps use her troops to secure a safe area for them to homestead-and in doing so, acquire apiece of this country for herself.\n\nOnce, Aviendha would have left these thoughts to clan chiefs and roofmistresses. But she wasn't a Maiden any longer, and she had accepted that. She now lived under a different roof. She was ashamed that she had resisted the change for so long.\n\nBut that left her with a problem. What honor was therefor her now? No longer a Maiden, not quite a Wise One. Her entire identity had been wrapped up in those spears, herself forged into their steel as surely as the carbon that strengthened them. She had grown from childhood certain that she would be Far Dareis Mai. Indeed, she had joined the Maidens as soon as possible. She had been proud of her life and of her spear-sisters. She would have served her clan and sept until the day when she finally fell to the spear, bleeding her last water onto the parched earth of the Three-fold Land." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This was not the Three-fold Land, and she had heard some algai'd\"siswai wonder if the Aiel would ever return there. Their lives had changed. She didn't trust change. It couldn't be spotted or stabbed; it was more silent than any scout, more deadly than any assassin. No, she'd never trust it, but she would accept it. She would learn Elayne's ways and how to think like a chief.\n\nShe would find honor in her new life. Somehow.\n\n\"They are no threat,\" whispered Heirn, crouching with the True Bloods on the other side of the Maidens.\n\nRhuarc watched the refugees, alert. \"The dead walk,\" the Taardad clan chief said, \"and men fall at random to Sightblinder's evil, their blood corrupted like the water of a bad well. Those might be poor folk fleeing the ravages of war. Or they might be something else. We keep our distance.\"\n\nAviendha glanced at the increasingly distant line of refugees. She did not think Rhuarc was right; these were not ghosts or monsters. There was always something... wrong about those. They left her with an itch, as if she were about to be attacked.\n\nStill, Rhuarc was wise. One learned to be careful in the Three-fold Land, where a tiny twig could kill. The group of Aiel slipped off the hilltop and down onto the brown-grassed plain beyond. Even after months spent in the wetlands, Aviendha found the landscape strange. Trees here were tall and long-limbed, with too many buds. When the Aiel crossed patches of yellow spring grass among the fallen winter leaves, they all seemed so full of water that she half-expected the blades and leaves to burst beneath her feet. She knew the wetlanders said that this spring was unnaturally slow starting, but already it was more fertile than her homeland." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the Three-fold Land, this meadow-with the hills to provide watchpoints and shelter-would have immediately been seized by a sept and used for farming. Here, it was just one of a thousand different untouched patches of land. The fault lay again in those cities. The nearest ones were too distant from this location to make it a good spot fora wetlander farmstead.\n\nThe eight Aiel quickly crossed the grasses, weaving between hillsides, moving with speed and stealth. Horses could not match a man's feet, what with their thunderous galloping. Terrible beasts-why did the wetlanders insist on riding them? Baffling. Aviendha could begin to understand how a chief or queen must think, but she knew that she'd never completely understand wetlanders. They were just too strange. Even Rand al'Thor.\n\nEspecially Rand al'Thor. She smiled, thinking of his earnest eyes. She remembered the scent of him-wetlander soaps, which smelled of oil, mixed with that particular earthy musk that was all his own. She would marry him. She was as determined as Elayne in that regard; now that they were first-sisters, they could marry him together as was proper. Only, how could Aviendha marry anyone, now? Her honor had been in her spears, but Rand al'Thor now wore those at his waist, beaten and forged into a belt buckle, given to him by her own hand.\n\nHe had offered her marriage once. A man! Offering marriage! Another of those strange wetlander customs. Even disregarding the strangeness of it-disregarding the insult his proposal had shown Elayne-Aviendha could never have accepted Rand al'Thor as her husband. Couldn't he understand that a woman must bring honor to a marriage? What could a mere apprentice offer? Would he have her come to him as an inferior? It would shame her completely to do that!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He must not have understood. She did not think him cruel, only dense. She would come to him when she was ready, then lay the bridal wreath at his feet. And she couldn't do that until she knew who she was.\n\nThe ways of ji'e\"toh were complex. Aviendha knew how to measure honor as a Maiden, but Wise Ones were different creatures entirely. She had thought she was gaining some small amount of honor in their eyes. They had allowed her, for instance, to spend a great deal of time with her first-sister in Caemlyn. But then, suddenly, Dorindha and Nadere had arrived and informed Aviendha that she had been ignoring her training. They had seized her like a child caught listening furtively outside the sweat tent, towing her away to join the rest of her clan as they left for Arad Doman.\n\nAnd now... and now the Wise Ones treated her with less respect than they had before! They offered her no teaching. Somehow, she had misstepped in their eyes. That made her stomach twist. To shame herself before the other Wise Ones was almost as bad as showing fear before one as brave as Elayne!\n\nSo far, the Wise Ones had allowed Aviendha some honor by letting her serve punishments, but she didn't know how she had shamed herself in the first place. Asking would-of course-only bring more shame. Until she unwove the problem, she could not meet her toh. Worse, there was areal danger of her making the mistake again. Until she sorted out this problem, she would remain an apprentice, and she would never be able to bring an honorable bridal wreath to Rand al'Thor.\n\nAviendha gritted her teeth. Another woman might have wept, but what good would that have done? Whatever her mistake, she had brought it upon herself, and it washer duty to right it. She would find honor again and she would marry Rand al'Thor before he died at the Last Battle." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That meant that whatever it was she had to learn, she needed to do so quickly. Very quickly.\n\nThey met up with another group of Aiel waiting in a small clearing amid a stand of pine trees. The ground was thick with discarded brown needles, the sky broken by the towering trunks. The group was small by the standards of clans and septs, barely two hundred people. In the middle of the clearing stood four Wise Ones, each wearing the characteristic brown woolen skirt and white blouse. Aviendha wore similar attire, which now felt as natural to her as the cadin'sor once had. The scouting party split up, men and Maidens moving to join members of their clans or societies. Rhuarc joined the Wise Ones, and Aviendha followed him.\n\nEach of the Wise Ones-Amys, Bair, Melaine, and Nadere-gave her a glance. Bair, the only Aiel with the group who wasn't Taardad or Goshien, had arrived only recently, perhaps to coordinate with the others. Whatever the reason, none of them seemed pleased. Aviendha hesitated. If she left now, would it seem as if she were trying to avoid their attention? Did she instead dare stay, and risk incurring their further displeasure?\n\n\"Well?\" Amys said to Rhuarc. Though Amys had white hair, she looked quite young. In her case, this wasn't due to working the Power-her hair had started turning silver when she'd been a child.\n\n\"It was as the scouts described, shade of my heart,\" Rhuarc said. \"Another pitiful band of wetlander refugees. I saw no hidden danger in them.\"\n\nThe Wise Ones nodded, as if this was what they had expected. \"That is the tenth band of refugees in less than a week,\" said aged Bair, her watery blue eyes thoughtful." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rhuarc nodded. \"There are rumors of Seanchan attacks on harbors to the west. Perhaps the people move inland to avoid the raids.\" He glanced at Amys. \"This country boils like water spilled on a hearthstone. The clans are uncertain what Rand al'Thor wishes of them.\"\n\n\"He was very clear,\" Bair noted. \"He will be pleased that you and Dobraine Taborwin secured Bandar Eban, as he asked.\"\n\nRhuarc nodded. \"But still, his intentions are not clear. He asked for us to restore order. Are we then to be like wetlander city guardsmen? That is no place for the Aiel. We are not to conquer, so we do not get the fifth. And yet it feels very much like conquest, what we do. The Car'a\"carn 's orders can be clear yet confusing at the same time. He has a gift in that area, I think.\"\n\nBair smiled, nodding. \"Perhaps he intends for us to do something with these refugees.\"\n\n\"And what would we do?\" Amys asked, shaking her head. \"Are we Shaido, expected to make gai'shain from wetlanders?\" Her tone left little doubt as to what she thought of both Shaido and the idea of making wetlanders gai'shain.\n\nAviendha nodded in agreement. As Rhuarc said, the Car'a\"carn had sent them to Arad Doman to'restore order.\" But that was a wetlander concept; Aiel brought their own order with them. There was chaos to war and battle, true, but each and every Aiel understood his place, and would act within that place. The little children understood honor and toh, and a hold would continue to function after all of the leaders and Wise Ones were killed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was not so with wetlanders. They ran about like a basket of wild lizards suddenly dropped onto hot stones, taking no care for provisions when they fled. As soon as their leaders were occupied or distracted, banditry and chaos ruled. The strong took from the weak, and even blacksmiths were not safe.\n\nWhat could Rand al'Thor expect the Aiel to do about it? They could not teach ji'e\"toh to an entire nation. Rand al'Thor had told them to avoid killing Domani troops. But those troops-often corrupt and turned to banditry themselves-were part of the problem.\n\n\"Perhaps he will explain more when we arrive at this manor house of his,\" said Melaine, shaking her head, red-gold hair catching the light. Her pregnancy was just beginning to show beneath her Wise One blouse. \"And if he does not, then surely it is better for us to be herein Arad Doman than to spend yet more time lounging back in the land of the treekillers.\"\n\n\"As you say,\" Rhuarc agreed. \"Let us move on, then. There is still a distance to run.\" He moved off to speak with Bael. Aviendha took a step away, but a harsh glance from Amys made her freeze.\n\n\"Aviendha,\" said the hard, white-haired woman. \"How many Wise Ones went with Rhuarc to scout this refugee train?\"\n\n\"None but me,\" Aviendha admitted.\n\n\"Oh, and are you a Wise One now?\" Bair asked.\n\n\"No,\" Aviendha said, quickly, then shamed herself further by blushing. \"I spoke poorly.\"\n\n\"Then you shall be punished,\" Bair said. \"You are no longer a Maiden, Aviendha. It is not your place to scout; that is a task for others.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Yes, Wise One,\" Aviendha said, looking down." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She had not thought that going with Rhuarc would bring her shame-she had seen other Wise Ones do similar tasks.\n\nBut I am not a Wise One, she reminded herself. I am an apprentice only. Bair had not said that a Wise One could not scout; only that it had not been Aviendha's place to go. It was about Aviendha herself. And about whatever it was she had done-or perhaps continued to do-to provoke the Wise Ones.\n\nDid they think she had grown soft by spending time with Elayne? Aviendha herself worried that that was true. During her days in Caemlyn, she had begun to find herself enjoying the silks and baths. By the end, she had objected only feebly when Elayne had come up with an excuse to dress her in some impractical and frivolous garment with embroidery and lace. It was well that the others had come for her.\n\nThe others just stood there, looking at her expectantly, faces like red desert stones, impassive and stern. Aviendha gritted her teeth again. She would complete her apprenticeship and find honor. She would.\n\nThe call came to begin moving, and cadin'sor-clad men and women did so, running together in small groups. The Wise Ones moved as easily as the soldiers, despite their bulky skirts. Amys touched Aviendha's arm. \"You will run with me so that we can discuss your punishment.\"\n\nAviendha fell into pace beside the Wise One at a brisk jog. It was a speed any Aiel could maintain almost indefinitely. Her group, from Caemlyn, had met up with Rhuarc as he was traveling from Bandar Eban to meet with Rand al'Thor in the western part of the country. Dobraine Taborwin, a Cairhienin, was still maintaining order in the capital city, where he'd reportedly located a member of the Domani ruling body." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Perhaps the group of Aiel could have Traveled through a gateway the rest of the distance. But it was not far-only a few days by foot-and they had left early enough to arrive at the appointed time without using the One Power. Rhuarc wanted to scout for himself some of the landscape near the manor house Rand al'Thor was using as abase. Other bodies of Goshien or Taardad Aiel would join them at the base, using gateways, if needed.\n\n\"What do you think of the Car'a\"carn 's demands of us herein Arad Doman, Aviendha?\" Amys asked as they ran.\n\nAviendha stifled a frown. What of her punishment? \"It is an irregular request,\" she said, \"but Rand al'Thor has many strange ideas, even fora wetlander. This will not be the most unusual duty he has set for us.\"\n\n\"And the fact that Rhuarc finds the duty discomforting?\"\n\n\"I doubt that the clan chief is uncomfortable,\" Aviendha said. \"I suspect that Rhuarc speaks what he has heard others say, passing the information to the Wise Ones. He does not wish to shame others by revealing who has spoken of their fears.\"\n\nAmys nodded. What was the purpose of the questions? Surely the woman had guessed the same thing. She would not come to Aviendha for counsel.\n\nThey ran in silence fora time, with no mention of punishments. Had the Wise Ones forgiven her unknown slight? Surely they wouldn't dishonor her in that way. Aviendha had to be given time to think out what she had done, otherwise her shame would be unbearable. She might err again, this time worse.\n\nAmys gave no clue as to her thoughts. The Wise One had been a Maiden once, like Aviendha. She was hard, even for an Aiel. \"And al'Thor himself?\" Amys asked. \"What do you think of him?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I love him,\" Aviendha said.\n\n\"I did not ask Aviendha the silly girl,\" Amys said curtly. \"I asked Aviendha the Wise One.\"\n\n\"He is a man of many burdens,\" Aviendha said more carefully. \"I fear that he makes many of those burdens heavier than they need be. I once thought that there was only one way to be strong, but I have learned from my first-sister that I was wrong. Rand al'Thor... I do not think he has learned this yet. I worry that he mistakes hardness for strength.\"\n\nAmys nodded again, as if in approval. Were these questions a test of some sort?\n\n\"You would marry him?\" Amys asked.\n\nI thought we weren't talking about Aviendha the'silly girl,\" Aviendha thought, but of course didn't say it. One did not say such things to Amys.\n\n\"I will marry him,\" she said instead. \"It is not a possibility, but a certainty.\" The tone earned her a glance from Amys, but Aviendha held her ground. Any Wise One who misspoke deserved to be corrected.\n\n\"And the wetlander Min Farshaw?\" Amys asked. \"She obviously loves him. What will you do about her?\"\n\n\"She is my concern,\" Aviendha said. \"We will reach an accommodation. I have spoken with Min Farshaw, and I believe she will be easy to work with.\"\n\n\"You would become first-sisters with her as well?\" Amys asked, sounding just faintly amused.\n\n\"We will reach an accommodation, Wise One.\"\n\n\"And if you cannot?\"\n\n\"We will,\" Aviendha said firmly.\n\n\"And how can you be so certain?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Aviendha hesitated." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Part of her wished to return only silence to that question, passing the leafless brush thickets and giving Amys no answer. But she was just an apprentice, and while she could not be forced to speak, she knew that Amys would keep pushing until the answer came out. Aviendha hoped she would not incur too much toh by her response.\n\n\"You know of the woman Min's viewings?\" Aviendha said.\n\nAmys nodded.\n\n\"One of those viewings relates to Rand al'Thor and the three women he will love. Another relates to my children by the Car'a'carn.\"\n\nShe said no more, and Amys pressed no more. It was enough. Both knew that one would sooner find a Stone Dog who would retreat than find a viewing of Min's that went wrong.\n\nOn one hand, it was good to know that Rand al'Thor would be hers, although she would have to share him. She did not begrudge Elayne, of course, but Min... well, Aviendha did not really know her. Regardless, the viewing was a comfort. But it was also bothersome. Aviendha loved Rand al'Thor because she chose to, not because she was destined to. Of course, Min's viewing didn't guarantee that Aviendha would actually be able to marry Rand, so perhaps she had misspoken to Amys. Yes, he would love three women and three women would love him, but would Aviendha find away to marry him?\n\nNo, the future was not certain, and for some reason that brought her comfort. Perhaps she should have worried, but she did not. She would get her honor back, and then she would marry Rand al'Thor. Perhaps he would die soon after, but perhaps an ambush would come and she would fall to an arrow this day. Worrying solved nothing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Toh, however, was another matter.\n\n\"I misspoke, Wise One,\" Aviendha said. \"I implied that the viewing said I would marry Rand al'Thor. That is not true. All three of us will love him, and while that implies marriage, I do not know for certain.\"\n\nAmys nodded. There was no toh; Aviendha had corrected herself quickly enough. That was well. She would not add more shame on top of what she had already earned.\n\n\"Very well, then,\" Amys said, watching the path ahead of her. \"Let us discuss today's punishment.\"\n\nAviendha relaxed slightly. So she still had time to discover what she had done wrong. Wetlanders often seemed confused by Aiel ways with punishment, but wetlanders had little understanding of honor. Honor didn't come from being punished, but accepting a punishment and bearing it restored honor. That was the soul of toh-the willing lowering of oneself in order to recover that which had been lost. It was strange to her that wetlanders couldn't see this; indeed, it was strange that they didn't follow ji'e'toh instinctively. What was life without honor?\n\nAmys, rightly, wouldn't tell Aviendha what she had done wrong. However, she was having no success thinking through the answer on her own, and it would causeless shame if she discovered the answer through conversation. \"Yes,\" Aviendha said carefully. \"I should be punished. My time in Caemlyn threatened to make me weak.\"\n\nAmys sniffed. \"You are no more weak than you were when you carried the spears, girl. A fair bit stronger, I should think. Your time with your first-sister was important for you.\"\n\nSo that wasn't it. When Dorindha and Nadere had come for her, they had said she needed to continue her training as an apprentice. Yet in the time since the Aiel had departed for Arad Doman, Aviendha had been given no lessons. She had been assigned to carry water, to mend shawls, and to serve tea. She had been given all manner of punishments with little explanation of what she had done wrong. And when she did something obvious-like going scouting when she shouldn't have-the severity of her punishment was always greater than the infraction should have merited." }, { "from": "human", "value": "It was almost as if the punishment was the thing the Wise Ones wanted her to learn, but that could not be." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She was not some wetlander who needed to be taught the ways of honor. What good would constant and unexplained punishment do, other than to warn of some grave mistake she had made?\n\nAmys reached to her side, untying something hanging at her waist. The woolen bag she held up was about the size of a fist. \"We have decided,\" she said, \"that we have been too lax in our instruction. Time is precious and we have no room left for delicacy.\"\n\nAviendha covered her surprise. Their previous punishments were delicate?\n\n\"Therefore,\" Amys said, handing over the small sack, \"you will take this. Inside are seeds. Some are black, others are brown, others are white. This evening, before we sleep, you will separate the colors, then count how many there are of each one. If you are wrong, we will mix them together and you will start again.\"\n\nAviendha found herself gaping, and she nearly stumbled to a stop. Hauling water was necessary work. Mending clothing was necessary work. Cooking meals was important work, particularly when no gai'shain had been brought with the small advance group.\n\nBut this... this was useless work! It was not only unimportant, it was frivolous. It was the kind of punishment reserved for only the most stubborn, or most shameful, of people. It almost... almost felt as though the Wise Ones were calling her da'tsang!\n\n\"By Sightblinder's eyes,\" she whispered as she forced herself to keep running. \"What did I do?\"\n\nAmys glanced at her, and Aviendha looked away. Both knew that she didn't want an answer to that question. She took the bag silently. It was the most humiliating punishment she had ever been given." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Amys moved off to run with the other Wise Ones. Aviendha shook off her stupor, her determination returning. Her mistake must have been more profound than she had thought. Amys' punishment was an indication of that, a hint.\n\nShe opened the bag and glanced inside. There were three little empty algode bags inside to help with the separation, and thousands of tiny seeds nearly engulfed them. This punishment was meant to be seen, meant to bring her shame. Whatever she'd done, it was offensive not just to the Wise Ones, but to all around her, even if they-like Aviendha herself-were ignorant of it.\n\nThat only meant she had to be more determined." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gawyn watched the sunburn the clouds to death in the west, the final light fading. That haze of perpetual gloom kept the sun itself shrouded. Just as it hid the stars from his sight at night. Today the clouds were unnaturally high in the air. Often, Dragonmount's tip would be hidden on cloudy days, but this thick, gray haze hovered high enough that most of the time, it barely brushed the mountain's jagged, broken tip.\n\n\"Let's engage them,\" Jisao whispered from where he crouched beside Gawyn on the hilltop.\n\nGawyn glanced away from the sunset, back toward the small village below. It should have been still, save perhaps fora goodman checking on his livestock one last time before turning in. It should have been dim, unlit save fora few tallow candles burning in windows as people finished evening meals.\n\nBut it was not dim. It was not quiet. The village was alight with angry torches carried by a dozen sturdy figures. By that torchlight and the light of the dying sun, Gawyn could make out that each was wearing a nondescript uniform of brown and black. Gawyn couldn't seethe three-starred insignia on their uniforms, but he knew it was there.\n\nFrom his distant vantage, Gawyn watched a few latecomers stumble from their homes, looking frightened and worried as they gathered with the others in the crowded square. These villagers welcomed the armed force with reluctance. Women clutched children, men were careful to keep their eyes downcast. \"We don't want trouble,\" the postures said. They'd undoubtedly heard from other villages that these invaders were orderly. The soldiers paid for goods they took, and no young men were pressed into service-though they weren't turned away either. Avery odd invading army indeed. However, Gawyn knew what the people would think. This army was led by Aes Sedai, and who could say what was odd or normal when Aes Sedai were involved?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There were no sisters with this particular patrol, thank the Light. The soldiers, polite but stern, lined up the villagers and looked them over. Then a pair of soldiers entered each house and barn, inspecting it. Nothing was taken and nothing was broken. All very neat and cordial. Gawyn could almost hear the officer offering apologies to the village mayor.\n\n\"Gawyn?\" Jisao asked. \"I count barely a dozen of them. If we send Rodic's squad to come in from the north, we'll cutoff both sides and smash them between us. It's getting dark enough that they won't see us coming. We could take them without so much as running up a lather.\"\n\n\"And the villagers?\" Gawyn asked. \"There are children down there.\"\n\n\"That hasn't stopped us other times.\"\n\n\"Those times were different,\" Gawyn said, shaking his head. \"The last three villages they've searched point a direct line toward Dorlan. If this group vanishes, the next one will wonder what it was they nearly uncovered. We'd draw the entire army's eye in this direction.\"\n\n\"But-\"\n\n\"No,\" Gawyn said softly. \"We have to know when to fallback, Jisao.\"\n\n\"So we came all this way for nothing.\"\n\n\"We came all this way for an opportunity,\" Gawyn said, backing away from the hilltop, making certain he didn't show a profile on the horizon. \"And now that I've inspected that opportunity, we're not going to take it. Only a fool looses his arrow just because he's got a bird in front of him.\"\n\n\"Why wouldn't you loose it if it's right therein front of you?\" Jisao asked as he joined Gawyn." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Because sometimes the prize isn't worth the arrow,\" Gawyn said. \"Come on.\"\n\nBelow, waiting in the dark with lanterns hooded, were some of the very men the soldiers in the village were searching for. Gareth Bryne must have been very displeased to learn there was a harrying force hiding somewhere nearby. He'd been diligent in trying to flush it out, but the countryside near Tar Valon was liberally sprinkled with villages, forests and secluded valleys that could hide a small, mobile strike force. So far, Gawyn had managed to keep his Younglings out of sight while pulling off the occasional raid or ambush on Bryne's forces. There was only so much you could do with three hundred men, however. Particularly when you faced one of the five Great Captains.\n\nAm I destined to end up fighting against each and every man who has been a mentor tome? Gawyn took the reins of his horse and gave a silent order to withdraw by raising his right hand, then gestured sharply away from the village. The men moved without comment, dismounting and leading their mounts for both stealth and safety.\n\nGawyn had thought he was over Hammar and Coulin's deaths; Bryne himself had taught Gawyn that the battlefield sometimes made allies into sudden foes. Gawyn had fought his former teachers, and Gawyn had won. That was the end of it.\n\nRecently, however, his mind seemed determined to dredge up those corpses and carry them about. Why now, after so long?\n\nHe suspected his sense of guilt had to do with facing Bryne, his first and most influential instructor in the arts of war. Gawyn shook his head as he guided Challenge across the darkening landscape; he kept his men away from the road in case Bryne's scouts had placed watchers. The fifty men around Gawyn walked as quietly as possible, the horses\" hoofbeats deadened by the springy earth." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "If Bryne had been shocked to discover a harrying force striking at his outriders, then Gawyn had been equally shocked to discover those three stars on the uniforms of the men he slew. How had the White Tower's enemies recruited the greatest military mind in all of Andor? And what was the Captain-General of the Queen's Guard doing fighting with a group of Aes Sedai rebels in the first place? He should have been in Caemlyn protecting Elayne.\n\nLight send that Elayne had arrived in Andor. She couldn't still be with the rebels. Not with her homeland lacking a queen. Her duty to Andor outweighed her duty to the White Tower.\n\nAnd what of your duty, Gawyn Trakand? he thought to himself.\n\nHe wasn't certain he had duty, or honor, left to him. Perhaps his guilt about Hammar, his nightmares of war and death at Dumai's Wells, were due to the slow realization that he might have given his allegiance to the wrong side. His loyalty belonged to Elayne and Egwene. What, then, was he still doing fighting a battle he didn't care about, helping aside that-by all accounts-was opposed to the one Elayne and Egwene had chosen?\n\nThey're just Accepted, he told himself. Elayne and Egwene didn't choose this side-they are just doing what they've been ordered to do! But the things that Egwene had said to him all those months ago, back in Cairhien, suggested that she had made her decision willingly.\n\nShe had chosen aside. Hammar had chosen aside. Gareth Bryne had, apparently, chosen aside. But Gawyn continued to want to be on both sides. The division was ripping him apart." }, { "from": "human", "value": "An hour out of the village, Gawyn gave the order to mount and take to the road." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Hopefully, Bryne's scouts wouldn't think to search the land outside the village. If they did, the tracks of fifty horsemen would be hard to miss. There was no avoiding that. The best thing now was to reach firm ground, where the signs of their passing would be hidden by a thousand years of footfalls and traffic. Two pairs of soldiers rode off in front and two pairs hung back to watch. The rest maintained their silence, though their horses now pounded a thunderous gallop. None asked why they were withdrawing, but Gawyn knew that they were wondering, just as Jisao had.\n\nThey were good men. Perhaps too good. As they rode, Rajar pulled his mount up beside Gawyn's. Just a few months ago, Rajar had been a youth. But now Gawyn couldn't think of him as anything other than a soldier. A veteran. Some men gained experience through years spent living. Other men gained experience through months spent watching their friends die.\n\nGlancing upward, Gawyn missed the stars. They hid their faces from him behind those clouds. Like Aiel behind black veils. \"Where did we go wrong, Rajar?\" Gawyn asked as they rode.\n\n\"Wrong, Lord Gawyn?\" Rajar asked. \"I don't know that we did anything wrong. We couldn't have known which villages that patrol would choose to inspect, or that they wouldn't turn along the old Wagonright Road, as you had hoped. Some of the men maybe confused, but it was right to withdraw.\"\n\n\"I wasn't talking about the raid,\" Gawyn said, shaking his head. \"I'm talking about this whole bloody situation. You shouldn't have to goon supply raids or spend your time killing scouts; you should have become a Warder to some freshly minted Aes Sedai by now.\" And I should be back in Caemlyn, with Elayne." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Wheel weaves as the Wheel wills,\" the shorter man said.\n\n\"Well, it wove us into a hole,\" Gawyn muttered, glancing at the overcast sky once again. \"And Elaida doesn't seem too eager to pull us out of it.\"\n\nRajar looked at Gawyn reproachfully. \"The White Tower's methods are its own, Lord Gawyn, and so are its motives. It isn't for us to question. What good is a Warder who questions the orders of his Aes Sedai? A good way to get both of you killed, that is.\"\n\nYou're not a Warder, Rajar. That's the problem! Gawyn said nothing. None of the other Younglings seemed to be plagued with these questions. To them, the world was much simpler. One did as the White Tower, and the Amyrlin Seat, commanded. Never mind if those commands seemed designed to get you killed.\n\nThree hundred youths against a force of over fifty thousand hardened soldiers, commanded by Gareth Bryne himself? Will of the Amyrlin or not, that was a deathtrap. The only reason the Younglings had survived as long as they had was because of Gawyn's familiarity with his teacher's ways. He knew where Bryne would send patrols and outriding scouts, and knew how to evade his search patterns.\n\nIt was still a futile effort. Gawyn didn't have nearly the troops needed fora true harrying force, particularly with Bryne entrenched in his siege. Beyond that, there was the remarkable matter of the army's complete lack of a supply line. How were they getting food? They purchased supplies from the surrounding villages, but not nearly enough to feed themselves. How could they possibly have carried all they needed while still moving quickly enough to appear, without warning, in the middle of winter?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gawyn's attacks were next to meaningless. It was enough to make a man think that the Amyrlin just wanted him, and the other Younglings, out of the way. Before Dumai's Wells, Gawyn had suspected that was the case. Now he was growing certain. And yet you continue to follow her orders, he thought to himself.\n\nHe shook his head. Bryne's scouts were getting dangerously close to his base of operations, and Gawyn couldn't risk killing anymore of them without giving himself away. It was time to head back to Dorlan. Perhaps the Aes Sedai there would have a suggestion on how to proceed.\n\nHe hunkered down on his horse and continued riding into the night. Light, I wish I could seethe stars, he thought." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Assist the writer by carrying on with the story.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, last battle\nAuthor: Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson\nTitle: The Gathering Storm\nChapter: 15" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gawyn's attacks were next to meaningless. It was enough to make a man think that the Amyrlin just wanted him, and the other Younglings, out of the way. Before Dumai's Wells, Gawyn had suspected that was the case. Now he was growing certain. And yet you continue to follow her orders, he thought to himself.\n\nHe shook his head. Bryne's scouts were getting dangerously close to his base of operations, and Gawyn couldn't risk killing anymore of them without giving himself away. It was time to head back to Dorlan. Perhaps the Aes Sedai there would have a suggestion on how to proceed.\n\nHe hunkered down on his horse and continued riding into the night. Light, I wish I could seethe stars, he thought." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand crossed the trampled manor green, banners flapping before him, tents surrounding him, horses whinnying in their pickets on the far west side. In the air hung the scents of an efficient war camp: smoke and savor from the stewpots were much stronger than the occasional whiff of horse dung or an unwashed body.\n\nBashere's men maintained a tidy camp, busying themselves with the hundreds of little tasks that allowed the army to function: sharpening swords, oiling leathers, mending saddles, fetching water from the stream. Some practiced charges to the left, on the far side of the green, in the space between tent lines and the scraggly trees growing alongside the stream. The men held gleaming lances at the level as their horses trampled the muddy ground in along swath. The maneuvers not only kept their skills sharp, but exercised the horses as well.\n\nAs always, Rand was trailed by a flock of attendants. Maidens were his guards, and the Aiel watched the Saldaean soldiers with wariness. Beside him were several Aes Sedai. They were always about him, now. The Pattern had no place for his onetime insistence that all Aes Sedai be kept at arm's length. It wove as it willed, and experience had shown that Rand needed these Aes Sedai. What he wanted no longer mattered. He understood that now.\n\nIt was little comfort that many of these Aes Sedai in his camp had sworn allegiance to him. Everyone knew that Aes Sedai followed their oaths in their own ways, and they would decide what their'fealty\" to him would require.\n\nElza Penfell-who accompanied him this day-was one of those who had sworn to him. Of the Green Ajah, she had a face that might be considered pretty, if one didn't recognize the ageless quality that marked her as Aes Sedai. She was pleasant, for an Aes Sedai, despite the fact that she had helped kidnap Rand and lock him in a box for days, to be pulled out only for the occasional beating." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the back of his mind, Lews Therin growled.\n\nThat was past. Elza had sworn. That was enough to allow Rand to use her. The other woman attending him today was less predictable; she was a member of Cadsuane's retinue. Corele Hovian-a slim Yellow with blue eyes, wild dark hair, and a perpetual smile-had sworn no oaths to do as he said. Despite that, he felt a temptation to trust her, since she had once tried to save his life. It was only because of her, Samitsu and Damer Flinn that Rand had survived. One of two wounds in Rand's side that would not heal-a gift from Padan Fain's cursed dagger-still lingered as a reminder of that day. The constant pain of that festering evil overlaid the equal pain of an older wound beneath, the one Rand had taken while fighting Ishamael so long ago.\n\nSoon, one of those wounds-or perhaps both-would spill Rand's blood onto the rocks of Shayol Ghul. He wasn't certain if they would be what killed him or not; with the number and variety of the different factors competing to take Rand's life, even Mat wouldn't have known which one was the best bet.\n\nAs soon as Rand thought of Mat, the colors swirled in his vision, forming into the image of a wiry, brown-eyed man wearing a wide-brimmed hat and tossing dice before a small crowd of watching soldiers. Mat wore a grin and seemed to be showing off, which was not unusual, though there didn't seem to be any coin changing hands for his throws.\n\nThe visions came whenever he thought of Mat or Perrin, and Rand had stopped dismissing them. He did not know what caused the images to appear; probably his ta'veren nature interacting with the other two ta'veren from his home village. Whatever it was, he used it. Just another tool. It appeared that Mat was still with the Band, but was no longer camped in a forested land. It was hard to tell from the angle, but he looked to be outside a city somewhere. At least, that was a large road in the near distance. Rand had not seen the small, dark-skinned woman with Mat for sometime. Who was she? Where had she gone?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The vision faded. Hopefully, Mat would return to him soon. He would need Mat and his tactical skills at Shayol Ghul.\n\nOne of Bashere's quartermasters-a thick-mustached man with bowlegs and a squat body-saw Rand and approached with a quickstep. Rand waved the Saldaean back; he had no mind for supply reports at the moment. The quartermaster saluted immediately and retreated. Once, Rand might have been surprised at how quickly he was obeyed, but no longer. It was right for the soldiers to obey. Rand was a king, though he didn't wear the Crown of Swords at the moment.\n\nRand passed through the green, filled with tents and horse pickets now. He left the camp, passing the unfinished earthen bulwark. Here, pine trees continued down the sides of the gentle slope. Tucked into a stand of trees just to the right was the Traveling ground, a square section of ground roped off to provide a safe location for gateways.\n\nOne hung in the air at that moment, an opening to another place. A small group of people was making their way through, walking out onto the pinecone-strewn ground. Rand could seethe weaves that made up the gateway; this one had been crafted with saidin.\n\nMost of the people in the group wore the colorful clothing of Sea Folk-the men bare-chested, even in the chill spring air, the women in loose bright blouses. All wore loose trousers, and all had piercings in their ears or noses, the complexity of the adornments an indication of each person's relative status.\n\nAshe waited for the Sea Folk, one of the soldiers who guarded the Traveling ground approached Rand with a sealed letter. The letter would be one sent via Asha'man from one of Rand's interests in the east. Indeed, as he opened it, he found it was from Darlin, the Tairen king. Rand had left him with orders to gather an army and prepare it for marching into Arad Doman. That gathering had been completed for sometime now, and Darlin wondered-yet again-about his orders. Could no one simply do as they were told?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Send a messenger,\" Rand said to the soldier, impatiently tucking the letter away. \"Tell Darlin to continue recruiting. I want him to draft every Tairen who can hold a sword and either train him for combat or set him to work in the forges. The Last Battle is close. Very close.\"\n\n\"Yes, my Lord Dragon,\" the soldier said, saluting.\n\n\"Tell him that I will send an Asha'man when I want him to move,\" Rand said. \"I still intend to use him in Arad Doman, but I need to see what the Aiel have discovered first.\"\n\nThe soldier bowed and retreated. Rand turned back to the Sea Folk. One of them approached him.\n\n\"Coramoor,\" she said, nodding. Harine was a handsome woman in her middle years, with white streaking her hair. Her Atha'an Miere blouse was of a bright blue, colorful enough to impress a Tinker, and she had an impressive five gold rings in each ear as well as a nose chain strung with gold medallions.\n\n\"I did not expect you to come and meet us personally,\" Harine continued.\n\n\"I have questions for you that could not wait.\"\n\nHarine looked taken aback. She was the Sea Folk ambassador to the Coramoor, which was their name for Rand. They were angry with Rand for the weeks he had spent without a Sea Folk minder-he had promised to keep one with him at all times-yet Logain had mentioned their hesitation to send Harine back. Why was that? Had she achieved greater rank, making her too important to attend him? Could one be too important to attend the Coramoor? Much about the Sea Folk made little sense to him.\n\n\"I will answer if I can,\" Harine said guardedly. Behind her, porters moved the rest of her belongings through the gateway. Flinn stood on the other side, holding the portal open." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Good,\" Rand said, pacing back and forth before her as he spoke. At times, he felt so tired-so weary to his bones-that he knew he had to keep moving. Never stopping. If he did, his enemies would find him. Either that, or his own exhaustion, both mental and physical, would drag him down.\n\n\"Tell me this,\" he demanded as he paced. \"Where are the ships which have been promised? The Domani people starve while grain rots in the east. Logain said you had agreed to my demands, but I have seen nothing of your ships. It has been weeks!\"\n\n\"Our ships are swift,\" Harine said testily, \"but there is a great distance to travel-and we must go through seas controlled by the Seanchan. The invaders have been extremely diligent with their patrols, and our ships have had to turn back and flee on several occasions. Did you expect that we would be able bring your food in an instant? Perhaps the convenience of these gateways has made you impatient, Coramoor. We must deal with the realities of shipping and war even if you do not.\"\n\nHer tone implied that he would have to deal with those realities in this case. \"I expect results,\" Rand said, shaking his head. \"I expect no delays. I know you do not like being forced to keep your agreement, but I will suffer no lagging to prove a point. People die because of your slowness.\"\n\nHarine looked as if she'd been slapped. \"Surely,\" she said, \"the Coramoor does not imply that we would not keep to our Bargain.\"\n\nThe Sea Folk were stubborn and prideful, Wavemistresses more than most. They were like an entire race of Aes Sedai. He hesitated. I should not insult her so, not because I am frustrated about other things. \"No,\" he finally said. \"No, I do not imply that. Tell me, Harine, were you punished much for your part in our agreement?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I was hung up by my ankles naked and strapped until I could scream no more.\" As soon as the words left her mouth, her eyes opened in shock. Often, when influenced by Rand's ta'veren nature, people said things they did not intend to admit.\n\n\"So harsh?\" Rand said, genuinely surprised.\n\n\"It was not so bad as it could have been. I retain my position as Wavemistress for my clan.\"\n\nBut it was obvious she had lost a great deal of face, or incurred great toh, or whatever the blasted Sea Folk called honor. Even when he wasn't present, he caused pain and suffering!\n\n\"I am glad you have returned,\" he forced himself to say. No smile, but a softer tone. That was the best he could do. \"You have impressed me, Harine, with your levelheadedness.\"\n\nShe nodded in thanks to him. \"We will keep our Bargain, Coramoor. You needn't fear.\"\n\nSomething else struck him, one of the original questions he'd come to ask her. \"Harine. I would ask you a somewhat delicate question about your people.\"\n\n\"You may ask,\" she said carefully.\n\n\"How do the Sea Folk treat men who can channel?\"\n\nShe hesitated. \"That is not a matter for the shorebound to know.\"\n\nRand met her eyes. \"If you agree to answer, then I will answer a question for you in return.\" The best way to deal with the Atha'an Miere was not to push or bully, but to offer trade.\n\nShe paused. \"If you give me two questions,\" she said, \"I will answer.\"\n\n\"I will give you one question, Harine,\" he said, raising a finger. \"But I promise to answer you as truthfully as I can. It is a fair bargain, and you know it. I have little patience right now.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Harine touched her fingers to her lips. \"It is agreed, then, under the Light.\"\n\n\"It is agreed,\" Rand said. \"Under the Light. My question?\"\n\n\"Men who can channel are given a choice,\" Harine said. \"They can either step from the bow of their ship holding a stone which is also tied to their legs, or they can be dropped off on a barren isle with no food or water. The second is considered the more shameful option, but some few do take it, to live fora brief time longer.\"\n\nNot much different from what his own people did in gentling men, truth be told. \"Saidin is cleansed now,\" he said to her. \"This practice must stop.\"\n\nShe pursed her lips, regarding him. \"Your... man spoke of this, Coramoor. Some find it difficult to accept.\"\n\n\"It is true,\" he said firmly.\n\n\"I do not doubt that you believe it to be so.\"\n\nRand gritted his teeth, forcing down another burst of anger, his hand forming a fist. He had cleansed the taint! He, Rand al'Thor, had performed a deed the likes of which had not been seen since the Age of Legends. And how was it treated? With suspicion and doubt. Most assumed that he was going mad, and therefore seeing a'cleansing\" that had not really happened.\n\nMen who could channel were always distrusted. Yet they were the only ones who could confirm what Rand said! He'd imagined joy and wonder at the victory, but he should have known better. Though male Aes Sedai had once been as respected as their female counterparts, that had been long ago. The days of Jorlen Corbesan had been lost in time. All people could remember now was the Breaking and the Madness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They hated male channelers. Yet, in following Rand, they served one. Did they not seethe contradiction? How could he convince them that there was no longer reason to murder men who could touch the One Power? He needed them! Why, there might be another Jorlen Corbesan among the very men the Sea Folk tossed into the ocean!\n\nHe froze. Jorlen Corbesan had been one of the most talented Aes Sedai before the Breaking, a man who had crafted some of the most amazing ter'angreal Rand had ever seen. Except Rand had not seen them. Those were Lews Therin's memories, not his. Jorlen's research facility of Sharom had been destroyed-the man himself killed-by the backlash of Power from the Bore.\n\nOh, Light, Rand thought with despair. I'm losing myself. Losing myself in him.\n\nThe most terrifying part was that Rand could no longer make himself wish to banish Lews Therin. Lews Therin had known away to seal the Bore, if imperfectly, but Rand had no idea how to approach the task. The safety of the world might depend on the memories of a dead madman.\n\nMany of the people around Rand appeared shocked, and Harine's eyes were both uncomfortable and a little frightened. Rand had been muttering to himself again, he realized, and he cutoff abruptly.\n\n\"I accept your answer,\" he said stiffly. \"What is your question of me?\"\n\n\"I will ask it later,\" she said. \"Once I have had a chance to consider.\"\n\n\"As you wish.\" He turned away, his retinue of Aes Sedai, Maidens and attendants following. \"The Traveling ground guards will see you to your room and carry your luggage.\" There was a veritable mountain of that. \"Flinn, tome!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The elderly Asha'man jumped through the gateway, motioning for the last of the porters to trot back to the docks on the other side. He let the portal twist back into a slash of light and vanish, then hurried after Rand. He spared a glance and a smile for Corele, who had bonded him as her Warder.\n\n\"I apologize for taking so long to return, Lord Dragon.\" Flinn had a leathery face and only a few wisps of hair on his head. He looked a lot like some of the farmers Rand had known back in Emond's Field, though he had been a soldier for most of his life. Flinn had come to Rand because he wanted to learn Healing. Rand had turned him into a weapon instead.\n\n\"You did as ordered,\" Rand said, walking back toward the green. He wanted to blame Harine for the prejudices of an entire world, but that was not fair. He needed a better way, away to make everyone see.\n\n\"I've never been exceptional at making gateways,\" Flinn continued. \"Not like Androl. I needed to-\"\n\n\"Flinn,\" Rand said, cutting in. \"Enough.\"\n\nThe Asha'man blushed. \"I apologize, my Lord Dragon.\"\n\nTo the side, Corele laughed softly, patting Flinn on the shoulder. \"Don't mind him, Damer,\" she said in a lilting Murandian accent. \"He's been as surly as a winter thunderhead all morning.\"\n\nRand glared at her, but she just smiled good-naturedly. Regardless of what the Aes Sedai thought of men who could channel in general, the ones who had taken Asha'man as Warders seemed as protective of them as mothers of their children. She had bonded one of his men, but that did not change the fact that Flinn was one of his men. An Asha'man first and foremost, a Warder second." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What do you think, Elza?\" Rand said, turning from Corele to the other Aes Sedai. \"About the taint and what Harine said?\"\n\nThe round-faced woman hesitated. She walked with hands behind her back, dark green dress marked only by subtle embroideries. Utilitarian, for an Aes Sedai. \"If my Lord Dragon says that the taint has been cleansed,\" the woman said carefully, \"then it is certainly improper to express doubt of him where others can hear.\"\n\nRand grimaced. An Aes Sedai answer for certain. Oath or no oath, Elza did as she wished.\n\n\"Oh, we were both thereat Shadar Logoth,\" Corele said, rolling her eyes. \"We saw what you did, Rand. Besides, I can feel male power through dear Damer here when we link. It has changed. The taint is gone. Right as sunlight, it is, though channeling the male half still feels like wrestling with a summer whirlwind.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Elza said, \"but be that as it is, you must realize how difficult it will be for others to believe this, Lord Dragon. During the Time of Madness, it took decades for some people to accept that the male Aes Sedai were doomed to go insane. It will likely take longer for them to overcome their distrust, now that it has been ingrained for so long.\"\n\nRand gritted his teeth. He had reached a small hill at the side of the camp, just beside the bulwark. He continued up to the top, Aes Sedai following. Here, a short wooden platform had been erected-afire tower for launching arrows over the bulwark.\n\nRand stopped at the top of the hill, Maidens surrounding him. He barely noticed the soldiers who saluted him as he looked over the Saldaean camp with its neat tent lines." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Was this all he would leave to the world? A taint cleansed, yet men still killed or exiled for something they could not help? He had bound most nations to him. Yet he knew well that the tighter one tied a bale, the sharper the snap of the cords when they were cut. What would happen when he died? Wars and devastation to match the Breaking? He hadn't been able to help that last time, for his madness and grief at Ilyena's death had consumed him. Could he prevent something similar this time? Did he have a choice?\n\nHe was ta'veren. The Pattern bent and shaped around him. And yet, he had quickly learned one thing from being a king: the more authority you gained, the less control you had over your life. Duty was truly heavier than a mountain; it forced his hand as often as the prophecies did. Or were they both one and the same? Duty and prophecy? His nature as a ta'veren and his place in history? Could he change his life? Could he leave the world better for his passing, rather than leaving the nations scarred, torn and bleeding?\n\nHe watched the camp, men moving about their tasks, horses nosing at the ground, searching for patches of winter grass that had not already been chewed to their roots. Though Rand had ordered this army to travel light, there were still camp followers. Women to help with meals and laundry, blacksmiths and farriers to tend horses and equipment, young boys to run messages and to train on the weapons. Saldaea was a Borderland, and battle was away of life for its people.\n\n\"I envy them, sometimes,\" Rand whispered.\n\n\"My Lord?\" Flinn asked, stepping up to him.\n\n\"The people of the camp,\" Rand said. \"They do as they are told, working each day under orders. Strict orders, at times. But orders or not, those people are more free than I.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You, Lord?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Flinn said, rubbing his leathery face with an aged finger. \"You are the most powerful man alive! You're ta'veren. Even the Pattern obeys your will, I should think!\"\n\nRand shook his head. \"It doesn't work that way, Flinn. Those people out there, anyone of them could just ride away. Escape, if they felt like it. Leave the battle to others.\"\n\n\"I've known a few Saldaeans in my day, my Lord,\" Flinn said. \"Forgive me, but I have doubts that anyone of them would do that.\"\n\n\"But they could,\" Rand said. \"It's possible. For all their laws and oaths, they are free. Me, I seem as if I can do as I wish, but I am tied so tightly the bonds cut my flesh. My power and influence are meaningless against fate. My freedom is all just an illusion, Flinn. And so I envy them. Sometimes.\"\n\nFlinn folded his hands behind his back, obviously uncertain how to respond.\n\nWe all do as we must, Moiraine's voice from the past returned to his memory. As the Pattern decrees. For some there is less freedom than for others. It does not matter whether we choose or are chosen. What must be, must be.\n\nShe had understood. I'm trying, Moiraine, he thought. I will do what must be done.\n\n\"My Lord Dragon!\" a voice called. Rand turned toward the sound and saw one of Bashere's scouts running up the hill. The Maidens cautiously allowed the youthful, dark-haired man to approach.\n\n\"My Lord,\" the scout said, saluting. \"There are Aiel on the outskirts of the camp. We saw two of them prowling through the trees about half a mile down the slope.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Maidens immediately began to move their hands, speaking in their clandestine handtalk.\n\n\"Did any of those Aiel wave at you, soldier?\" Rand asked dryly.\n\n\"My Lord?\" the man asked. \"Why would they do that?\"\n\n\"They're Aiel. If you saw them, that means they wanted you to-and that means they're allies, not foes. Inform Bashere that we'll be meeting with Rhuarc and Bael shortly. It is time to secure Arad Doman.\"\n\nOr maybe it was time to destroy it. Sometimes, it was difficult to tell the difference.\n\nMerise spoke. \"Graendal's plans. Tell me again what you know of them.\" The tall Aes Sedai-of the Green Ajah, like Cadsuane herself-maintained astern expression, arms folded beneath her breasts, a silver comb slid into the side of her black hair.\n\nThe Taraboner woman was a good choice to lead the interrogation. Or, at least, she was the best choice Cadsuane had. Merise didn't show a bit of discomfort at being so near to one of the most feared beings in all of creation, and she was relentless in her questioning. She did try a little too hard to prove how stern she was. The way she kept her hair pulled back into its bun with such force, for instance, or the way she flaunted her Asha'man Warder.\n\nThe room was on the second floor of Rand al'Thor's Domani mansion, the outer wall made of thick round pine logs, the inner walls of wood planks, all stained a matching dark color. This chamber, which had once been a bedroom, had been emptied of nearly all furniture; there was not even a rug on the sanded wood floor. In fact, the only furniture in it now was the stout chair Cadsuane satin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Cadsuane sipped her tea, intentionally projecting an air of composure. That was important, especially if one wasn't anything near composed on the inside. At the moment, for instance, Cadsuane wanted to crush the teacup between her hands, then perhaps spend an hour or so stamping on the shards.\n\nShe took another sip.\n\nThe source of her frustration-and the object of Merise's questioning-hung in the air, held upside down by weaves of Air with her arms tied behind her back. The captive had short wavy hair and dark skin. Her face matched Cadsuane's own for composed serenity, despite her circumstances. Wearing a simple brown dress-the hem held up around her legs by a weave of Air to keep it from obscuring her face-held bound and shielded, the prisoner somehow seemed the one in control.\n\nMerise stood in front of the prisoner. Narishma leaned against the wall, the only other one in the room.\n\nCadsuane did not control the questioning herself, not yet. Letting another lead the interrogation worked to her advantage; it let her think and plan. Outside the room, Erian, Sarene, and Nesune held the prisoner's shield, two more than were normally considered necessary.\n\nOne did not take chances with the Forsaken.\n\nTheir prisoner was Semirhage. A monster who many thought was simply a legend. Cadsuane did not know how many of the stories about the woman were true. She did know that Semirhage was not easily intimidated, unsettled or manipulated. And that was a problem.\n\n\"Well?\" Merise demanded. \"My question: you have an answer?\"\n\nSemirhage regarded Merise, icy contempt in her voice as she spoke. \"Do you know what happens to a man when his blood is replaced with something else?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I did not-\"\n\n\"He dies, of course,\" Semirhage said, cutting Merise off with words like knives. \"The death often happens instantly, and quick deaths are of little interest. With experiment, I discovered that some solutions can replace blood more effectively, allowing the subject to live fora short time after the transfusion.\"\n\nShe fell silent.\n\n\"Answer the question,\" Merise said, \"or out the window you will hang again and-\"\n\n\"The transfusion itself requires use of the Power, of course,\" Semirhage interrupted again. \"Other methods are not quick enough. I invented the weave myself. It can suddenly and instantly pull the blood from a body and deposit it in a bin, while at the same time taking a solution and pressing it into the veins.\"\n\nMerise gritted her teeth, glancing at Narishma. The Asha'man wore a coat and trousers of black, as usual, his long dark hair in braids woven with bells on the ends. He lounged against the log wall. He had a boyish face, but displayed a growing edge of danger. Perhaps that came from training with Merise's other Warders. Perhaps it came from associating with people who would put one of the Forsaken to the question.\n\n\"My warning-\" Merise began again.\n\n\"I had one subject survive an entire hour after the transfusion,\" Semirhage said in a calm, conversational tone. \"I count it as one of my greatest victories. He was in pain the entire time, of course. True pain, agony that he could feel in every vein of his body, right down to the near-invisible ones in his fingers. I know of no other way to bring such suffering to every part of the body at once.\"\n\nShe met Merise's eyes. \"I will show you the weave someday.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Merise paled just slightly.\n\nWith a whip of her hand, Cadsuane wove a shield of Air around Semirhage's head to block her from hearing, then wove Fire and Air into two small balls of light, which she placed directly in front of the Forsaken's eyes. The lights weren't bright enough to blind or damage her eyes, but they would keep her from seeing. That was a particular trick of Cadsuane's; too many sisters would think to deafen a captive, yet leave them capable of watching. One never knew who had learned to read lips, and Cadsuane had little inclination to underestimate her current captive.\n\nMerise glanced at Cadsuane, a flash of annoyance in her eyes.\n\n\"You were losing control of her,\" Cadsuane said firmly, setting her tea on the floor beside her chair.\n\nMerise hesitated, then nodded, looking truly angry. Likely at herself. \"This woman, nothing works on her,\" she said. \"She never changes the tone of her voice, no matter what we do to her. Every punishment I can think of only creates more threats. Each one more gruesome than the last! Light!\" She gritted her teeth again, refolding her arms and breathing deeply through her nose. Narishma straightened as if to walkover to her, but she waved him back. Merise was appropriately firm with her Warders, though she did snap at anyone else who tried to keep them in their places.\n\n\"We can break her,\" Cadsuane said.\n\n\"Can we, Cadsuane?\"\n\n\"Phaw! Of course we can. She is human, just like anyone else.\"\n\n\"True,\" Merise said. \"Though she's lived for three thousand years. Three thousand, Cadsuane.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"She spent the bulk of that time imprisoned,\" Cadsuane said with a dismissive sniff. \"Centuries locked up in the Dark One's prison, likely in a trance or hibernation. Subtract those years, and she's no older than any of us. A fair sight younger than some, I would imagine.\"\n\nIt was a subtle reminder of her own age, something rarely discussed among Aes Sedai. The entire conversation about age was, in fact, a sign of how uncomfortable the Forsaken made Merise. Aes Sedai were practiced at appearing calm, but there was a reason that Cadsuane had kept those holding the shield outside the room. They gave away too much. Even the normally unflappable Merise lost control far too often during these interrogations.\n\nOf course, Merise and the others-like all the women in the Tower these days-still fell short of what an Aes Sedai should be. These younger Aes Sedai had been allowed to grow soft and weak, prone to bickering. Some had allowed themselves to be bullied into swearing fealty to Rand al'Thor. Sometimes, Cadsuane wished she could simply send them all to penance fora few decades.\n\nOr maybe that was just Cadsuane's age speaking. She was old, and that was making her increasingly intolerant of foolishness. Over two centuries ago, she'd sworn to herself that she'd live to attend the Last Battle, no matter how long that took. Using the One Power lengthened one's years, and she'd found that determination and grit could stretch those years even further. She was one of the oldest people alive.\n\nUnfortunately, her years had taught her that no measure of planning or determination could make life turnout as you wanted. That didn't stop her from being annoyed when it didn't. One might have thought that the years would also have taught her patience, but it had done the opposite. The older she grew, the less inclined she was to wait, for she knew she didn't have many years left." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Anyone who claimed that old age had brought them patience was either lying or senile.\n\n\"She can and will be broken,\" Cadsuane repeated, \"I am not going to allow a person who knows weaves from the Age of Legends to simply dance herself to execution. We are going to pull every scrap of knowledge from that woman's brain, if we have to turn a few of her own'creative' weaves on her.\"\n\n\"The a'dam. If only the Lord Dragon would let us use it on her...\" Merise said, glancing at Semirhage.\n\nIf ever Cadsuane had been tempted to break her word, it was regarding that. Slip an a'dam on the woman... but no, in order to force someone to talk with an a'dam, you had to give them pain. It was the same as torture, and al'Thor had forbidden it.\n\nSemirhage had closed her eyes against Cadsuane's lights, but she was still composed, controlled. What was going on in that woman's mind? Did she wait for rescue? Did she think to force them to execute her so that she could avoid true torture? Did she really assume that she'd be able to escape, then wreak vengeance on the Aes Sedai who had questioned her?\n\nLikely the last-and it was hard not to feel at least a hint of apprehension. The woman knew things about the One Power that hadn't survived even in legends. Three thousand years was along, longtime. Could Semirhage breakthrough a shield in away that was unknown? If she could, why hadn't she already? Cadsuane wouldn't be entirely comfortable until she was able to get her hands on some of that forkroot tea.\n\n\"Your weaves, you can release them, Cadsuane,\" Merise said, standing. \"I have composed myself. I fear we will have to hang her out the window fora time, as I said. Perhaps we can threaten her with pain. She can't know of al'Thor's foolish requirements.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Cadsuane leaned forward, releasing the weaves that hung the lights before the Forsaken's eyes, but not removing the shield of Air that kept her from hearing. Semirhage's eyes snapped open, then quickly found Cadsuane. Yes, she knew who was in charge. The two locked eyes.\n\nMerise continued to question, asking about Graendal. Al'Thor thought the other Forsaken might be somewhere in Arad Doman. Cadsuane was far more interested in other questions, but Graendal made an acceptable starting point.\n\nSemirhage responded to Merise's questions with silence this time, and Cadsuane found herself thinking about al'Thor. The boy had resisted her teaching as stubbornly as Semirhage resisted questioning. Oh, true, he had learned some minor things-how to treat her with a measure of respect, how to at least feign civility. But nothing more.\n\nCadsuane hated admitting failure. And this was not a failure, not yet, but she was close. That boy was destined to destroy the world. And maybe save it, too. The first was inevitable; the second conditional. She could wish the two were reversed, but wishes were about as useful as coins carved from wood. You could paint them however you wanted, but they remained wood.\n\nShe gritted her teeth, putting the boy out of her mind. She needed to watch Semirhage. Each time the woman spoke, it could be a clue. Semirhage returned her stare, ignoring Merise.\n\nHow did you break one of the most powerful women who had ever lived? A woman who had perpetrated countless atrocities during the days of wonder before, even, the Dark One's release? Meeting those black, onyx eyes, Cadsuane realized something. Al'Thor's prohibition on hurting Semirhage was meaningless. They could not break this woman with pain. Semirhage was the great torturer of the Forsaken, a woman intrigued by death and agony." }, { "from": "human", "value": "No, she would not break that way, even if the means had been allowed them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With a chill, looking into those eyes, Cadsuane thought she saw something of herself in the creature. Age, craftiness and unwillingness to budge.\n\nThat, then, left a question for her. If given the task, how would Cadsuane go about breaking herself?\n\nThe concept was so disturbing that she was relieved when Corele interrupted the interrogation a few moments later. The slender, cheerful Murandian was loyal to Cadsuane and had been on duty watching over al'Thor this afternoon. Corele's word that al'Thor would be meeting soon with his Aiel chiefs brought an end to the interrogation, and the three sisters maintaining the shield entered and towed Semirhage off to the room where they would set her bound and gagged with flows of Air.\n\nCadsuane watched the Forsaken go, carried on weaves of Air, then shook her head. Semirhage had been only the day's opening scene. It was time to deal with the boy." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rodel Ituralde had seen a lot of battlefields. Somethings were always the same. Dead men like piles of rags, lying in heaps. Ravens eager to dine. Groans, cries, whimpers and mumbles from those unlucky enough to need along time to die.\n\nEach battlefield also had its own individual print. You could read a battle like the trail of passing game. Corpses lying in rows that were disturbingly straight indicated a charge of footmen who had been pressed against volleys of arrows. Scattered and trampled bodies were the result of infantry breaking before heavy cavalry. This battle had seen large numbers of Seanchan crushed up against the walls of Darluna, where they had fought with desperation. Hammered against the stone. One section of wall was completely torn away where some damane had tried to escape into the city. Fighting in streets and among homes would have favored the Seanchan. They hadn't made it in time.\n\nIturalde rode his roan gelding through the mess. Battle was always a mess. The only neat battles were the ones in stories or history books. Those had been cleansed and scoured by the abrasive hands of scholars looking for conciseness. \"Aggressor won, fifty-three thousand killed\" or'Defender stood, twenty thousand fallen.\"\n\nWhat would be written of this battle? It would depend on who was writing. They would neglect to include the blood, pounded into the earth to make mud. The bodies, broken, pierced and mangled. The ground torn in swaths by enraged damane. Perhaps they would remember the numbers; those often seemed important to scribes. Half of Ituralde's hundred thousand, dead. On any other battlefield, fifty thousand casualties would have shamed and angered him. But he'd faced down a force three times his size, and one with damane at that." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He followed the young messenger who had fetched him, a boy of perhaps twelve, wearing a Seanchan uniform of red and green. They passed a fallen standard, hanging from a broken pole with the tip driven into mud. It bore the sign of a sun being crossed by six gulls. Ituralde hated not knowing the houses and names of the men he was fighting, but there was noway to tell with the foreign Seanchan.\n\nThe shadows cast by a dying evening sun striped the field. Soon a blanket of darkness would cradle the bodies, and the survivors could pretend fora time that the grassland was a grave for their friends. And for the people their friends had killed. He rounded a small hillock, coming to a scattered pattern of fallen Seanchan elite. Most of these dead wore those insectlike helms. Bent, cracked, or dented. Dead eyes stared blankly from openings behind twisted mandibles.\n\nThe Seanchan general was alive, if just barely. His helmet was off, and there was blood on his lips. He leaned against a large, moss-covered boulder, back supported by a bundled cloak, as if he were waiting fora meal to be delivered. Of course, that image was marred by his twisted leg and the broken haft of a spear punching through the front of his stomach.\n\nIturalde dismounted. Like most of his men, Ituralde wore worker's clothing-simple brown trousers and coat, borrowed off of the man who had taken Ituralde's uniform as part of the trap.\n\nIt felt odd to be out of uniform. A manlike this General Turan did not deserve a soldier in drab. Ituralde waved the messenger boy to stand back, out of earshot, then approached the Seanchan alone.\n\n\"You're him, then,\" Turan said, looking up at Ituralde, speaking with that slow Seanchan drawl. He was a stout man, far from tall, with a peaked nose. His close-cropped black hair was shaved two finger widths up each side of his head, and his helm lay beside him on the ground, bearing three white plumes. He reached up with an unsteady black-gloved hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am,\" Ituralde said.\n\n\"They call you a \"Great Captain\" in Tarabon.\"\n\n\"They do.\"\n\n\"It's deserved,\" Turan said, coughing. \"How did you do it? Our scouts....\" His cough consumed him.\n\n\"Raken,\" Ituralde said once the cough subsided. He squatted down beside his foe. The sun was still a sliver in the west, lighting the battlefield with a glimmer of golden red light. \"Your scouts see from the air, and truth is easy to hide from a distance.\"\n\n\"The army behind us?\"\n\n\"Women and youths, mostly,\" Ituralde said. \"A fair number of farmers as well. Wearing uniforms taken from my troops here.\"\n\n\"And if we'd turned and attacked?\"\n\n\"You wouldn't have. Your raken told you that you were outnumbered. Better to chase after the smaller force ahead of you. Better than that to head for the city your scouts say is barely defended, even if it means marching your men near to exhaustion.\"\n\nTuran coughed again, nodding. \"Yes. Yes, but the city was empty. How did you get troops into it?\"\n\n\"Scouts in the air,\" Ituralde said, \"can't see inside buildings.\"\n\n\"You ordered your troops to hide inside for that long?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Ituralde said. \"With a rotation allowing a small number out each day to work the fields.\"\n\nTuran shook his head in disbelief. \"You realize what you have done,\" he said. There was no threat in his voice. In fact, there was a fair amount of admiration. \"High Lady Suroth will never accept this failure. She will have to break you now, if only to save face.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I know,\" Ituralde said, standing. \"But I can't drive you back by attacking you in your fortresses. I need you to come tome.\"\n\n\"You don't understand the numbers we have...\" Turan said. \"What you destroyed today is but a breeze compared to the storm you've raised. Enough of my people escaped today to tell of your tricks. They will notwork again.\"\n\nHe was right. The Seanchan learned quickly. Ituralde had been forced to cut short his raids in Tarabon because of the swift Seanchan reaction.\n\n\"You know you can't beat us,\" Turan said softly. \"I see it in your eyes, Great Captain.\"\n\nIturalde nodded.\n\n\"Why, then?\" Turan asked.\n\n\"Why does a crow fly?\" Ituralde asked.\n\nTuran coughed weakly.\n\nIturalde did know that he could not win his war against the Seanchan. Oddly, each of his victories made him more certain of his eventual failure. The Seanchan were smart, well equipped and well disciplined. More than that, they were persistent.\n\nTuran himself must have known from the moment those gates opened that he was doomed. But he had not surrendered; he had fought until his army broke, scattering in too many directions for Ituralde's exhausted troops to catch. Turan understood. Sometimes, surrender wasn't worth the cost. No man welcomed death, but there were far worse ends fora soldier. Abandoning one's homeland to invaders... well, Ituralde couldn't do that. Not even if the fight was impossible to win.\n\nHe did what needed to be done, when it needed to be done. And right now, Arad Doman needed to fight. They would lose, but their children would always know that their fathers had resisted. That resistance would be important in a hundred years, when a rebellion came. If one came." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ituralde stood up, intending to return to his waiting soldiers.\n\nTuran struggled, reaching for his sword. Ituralde hesitated, turning back.\n\n\"Will you do it?\" Turan asked.\n\nIturalde nodded, unsheathing his own sword.\n\n\"It has been an honor,\" Turan said, then closed his eyes. Ituralde's sword-heron-marked-took the man's head a moment later. Turan's own blade bore a heron, barely visible on the gleaming length of blade the Seanchan had managed to pull. It was a pity that the two of them hadn't been able to cross swords-though, in away, these past few weeks had been just that, on a different scale.\n\nIturalde cleaned his sword, then slid it back into its sheath. Ina final gesture, he slid Turan's sword out and rammed it into the ground beside the fallen general. Ituralde then remounted and, nodding farewell to the messenger, made his way back across the shadowed field of corpses.\n\nThe ravens had begun.\n\n\"I've tried encouraging several of the serving men and Tower Guards,\" Leane said softly, sitting beside the bars of her cell. \"But it's hard.\" She smiled, glancing at Egwene, who sat on a stool outside the cell. \"I don't exactly feel alluring these days.\"\n\nEgwene's responding smile was wry, and she seemed to understand. Leane wore the same dress that she'd been captured in, and it had not yet been laundered. Every third morning, she removed it and used the morning's bucket of water-after washing herself clean with a damp rag-to clean the dress in her basin. But there was only so much one could do without soap. She'd braided her hair to give it a semblance of neatness, but could do nothing about her ragged nails." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Leane sighed, thinking of those mornings spent standing in the corner of her cell, hidden from sight, wearing nothing while she waited for the dress and shift to dry." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Just because she was Domani didn't mean she liked parading about without a scrap on. Proper seduction required skill and subtlety; nudity used neither.\n\nHer cell wasn't bad as cells went-she had a small bed, meals, plenty of water, a chamber pot that was changed daily. But she was never allowed out, and was always guarded by two sisters who kept her shielded. The only one who visited her-save for those trying to pry information from her regarding Traveling-was Egwene.\n\nThe Amyrlin sat on her stool, expression thoughtful. And she was Amyrlin. It was impossible to think of her any other way. How could a child so young have learned so quickly? That straight back, that poised expression. Being in control wasn't so much about the power you had, but the power you implied that you had. It was much like dealing with men, actually.\n\n\"Have you... heard anything?\" Leane asked. \"About what they plan to do with me?\"\n\nEgwene shook her head. Two Yellow sisters sat chatting nearby on the bench, lit by a lamp on the table beside them. Leane hadn't answered any of the questions her captors put to her, and Tower law was very strict about the questioning of fellow sisters. They couldn't harm her, particularly not with the Power. But they could just leave her alone, to rot.\n\n\"Thank you for coming to see me these evenings,\" Leane said, reaching through the lattice of bars to take Egwene's hand. \"I believe I owe my sanity to you.\"\n\n\"It is my pleasure,\" Egwene said, though her eyes showed a hint of the exhaustion she undoubtedly felt. Some of the sisters who visited Leane mentioned the beatings Egwene was suffering as'penances\" for her insubordination. Odd, how a novice to be instructed could be beaten but a prisoner to be interrogated could not. And despite the pain, Egwene came to visit Leane in the cell virtually every night." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I will see you free, Leane,\" Egwene promised, still holding her hand." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Elaida's tyranny cannot last. I'm confident it won't belong now.\"\n\nLeane nodded, letting go and standing up. Egwene took hold of the bars and pulled herself to her feet, cringing ever so slightly at the motion. She nodded farewell to Leane, then hesitated, frowning.\n\n\"What is it?\" Leane asked.\n\nEgwene took her hands off of the bars and looked at her palms. They seemed to be coated with a reflective, waxy substance. Frowning, Leane looked at the bars, and was shocked to see Egwene's handprints on the iron.\n\n\"What in the Light-\" Leane said, poking atone of the bars. It bent beneath her finger like warm wax on the lip of a candle's bowl.\n\nSuddenly, the stones beneath Leane's feet shifted, and she felt herself sinking. She cried out. Globs of melted wax starting to rain down from the ceiling, splattering across her face. They weren't warm, but they were somehow liquid. They had the color of stone!\n\nShe gasped, panicked, stumbling and sliding as her feet sank deeper in the too-slick floor. A hand caught hers; she looked up to where Egwene had grabbed her. The bars melted out of the way as Leane watched, the iron drooping to the sides, then liquefying.\n\n\"Help!\" Egwene screamed at the Yellows outside. \"Burn you! Stop staring!\"\n\nLeane scrambled for purchase, terrified, trying to pull herself along the bars toward Egwene. She grasped only wax. A lump of bar came loose in her hand, squishing between her fingers, and the floor warped around her, sucking her down.\n\nAnd then threads of Air seized her, yanking her free. The room lurched as she was tossed forward into Egwene, knocking the younger woman backward. The two Yellows-white-haired Musarin and short Gelarna-had jumped to their feet, and the glow of saidar surrounded them. Musarin called for help, watching the melting cell with wide eyes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Leane righted herself, scrambling off of Egwene, her dress and legs coated with the strange wax, and stumbled back away from the cell. The floor herein the hallway felt stable. Light, how she wished she could embrace the source herself! But she was too full of forkroot, not to mention the shield.\n\nEgwene climbed to her feet with a hand from Leane. The room fell still, lamp flickering, all of them staring at the cell. The melting had stopped, the bars split, the top halves frozen with drips of steel on their tips, the lower halves bent inward. Many had been flattened to the stones by Leane's escape. The floor inside the room had bowed inward, like a funnel, the rocks stretching. Those stones bore gashes where Leane's scrambling had scored them.\n\nLeane stood, her heart beating, realizing that only seconds had passed. What should they do? Scuttle away in fear? Was the rest of the hallway going to melt, too?\n\nEgwene stepped forward, tapping her toe against one of the bars. It resisted. Leane took a step forward, and her dress crunched, bits of stone-like mortar-falling free. She reached down and brushed at her skirt, and felt rough rock coating it instead of wax.\n\n\"These sorts of events are more frequent,\" Egwene said calmly, glancing at the two Yellows. \"The Dark One is getting stronger. The Last Battle approaches. What is your Amyrlin doing about it?\"\n\nMusarin glanced at her; the tall, aging Aes Sedai looked deeply disturbed. Leane took Egwene's lead, forcing herself to becalm as she stepped up beside the Amyrlin, chips of stone falling from her dress.\n\n\"Yes, well,\" Musarin said. \"You shall return to your rooms, novice. And you...\" She glanced at Leane, then at the remains of the cell. \"We will... have to relocate you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And get me anew dress as well, I assume,\" Leane said, folding her arms.\n\nMusarin's eyes flickered at Egwene. \"Go. This is no longer your business, child. We will care for the prisoner.\"\n\nEgwene gritted her teeth, but then she turned to Leane. \"Stay strong,\" she said, and hurried away, heading down the hallway.\n\nExhausted, disturbed by the stone-warping bubble of evil, Egwene walked with swishing skirts toward the Tower wing that contained the novices'quarters. What would it take to convince the foolish women that there wasn't time to spare for squabbling!\n\nThe hour was late, and few women walked the corridors, none of them novices. Egwene passed several servants bustling at late-night duties, their slippered feet falling softly on the floor tiles. These sectors of the Tower were populated enough that lamps burned on the walls, trimmed low, giving an orange light. A hundred different polished tiles reflected the flickering flames, looking like eyes that watched Egwene as she walked.\n\nIt was hard to comprehend that this quiet evening had turned into a trap that nearly killed Leane. If even the ground itself could not be trusted, then what could? Egwene shook her head, too tired, too sore, to think of solutions at the moment. She barely noticed when the floor tiles turned from gray to a deep brown. She just continued on, into the Tower wing, counting the doors she passed. Hers was the seventh...\n\nShe froze, frowning at a pair of Brown sisters: Maenadrin-a Saldaean-and Negaine. The two had been speaking in hushed whispers, and they frowned at Egwene as she passed them. Why would they be in the novices' quarters?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But wait. The novices'quarters didn't have brown floor tiles. This section should have had nondescript gray tiles. And the doors in the hallway were spaced far too widely. This didn't look at all like the novices\" quarters! Had shebeen so tired that she'd walked incompletely the wrong direction?\n\nShe retraced her steps, passing the two Brown sisters again. She found a window and looked out. The rectangular white expanse of the Tower wing extended around her, just as it should. She wasn't lost.\n\nPerplexed, she looked back down the hallway. Maenadrin had folded her arms, regarding Egwene with a set of dark eyes. Negaine, tall and spindly, stalked up to Egwene. \"What business have you here this time of night, child?\" she demanded. \"Did a sister send for you? You should be back in your room for sleep.\"\n\nWordlessly, Egwene pointed out the window. Negaine glanced out, frowning. She froze, gasping softly. She looked back in at the hallway, then back out, as if unable to believe where she was.\n\nIn minutes, the entire Tower was in a frenzy. Egwene, forgotten, stood at the side of a hallway with a cluster of bleary-eyed novices as sisters argued with one another intense voices, trying to determine what to do. It appeared that two sections of the Tower had been swapped, and the slumbering Brown sisters had been moved from their sections on the upper levels down into the wing. The novices' rooms-intact-had been placed where the section of Brown sisters had been. Nobody remembered any motion or vibration when the swap happened, and the transfer appeared seamless. Aline of floor tiles had been split right down the middle, then melded with tiles from the section that had shifted." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It's getting worse and worse, Egwene thought as the Brown sisters decided-for now-that they would have to accept the switch. They couldn't very well move sisters into rooms the size that novices used.\n\nThat would leave the Browns divided, half in the wing, half in their old location-with a clump of novices in the middle of them. A division aptly representative of the less-visible divisions the Ajahs were suffering.\n\nEventually, exhausted, Egwene and the others were sent off to sleep-though now she had to trudge up many flights of stairs before reaching her bed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A storm is coming,\" Nynaeve said, looking out the window of the manor.\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Daigian from her chair by the hearth without bothering to glance at the window. \"I think you might be right, dear. I swear, it seems as if it has been overcast for weeks!\"\n\n\"It has been a single week,\" Nynaeve said, holding her long, dark braid in one hand. She glanced at the other woman. \"I haven't seen a patch of clear sky in over ten days.\"\n\nDaigian frowned. Of the White Ajah, she was plump and curvaceous. She wore a small stone on her forehead as Moiraine had so long ago, though Daigian's was an appropriately white moonstone. The tradition apparently had something to do with being a Cairhien noblewoman, as did the four colored slashes the woman wore on her dress.\n\n\"Ten days, you say?\" Daigian said. \"Are you certain?\"\n\nNynaeve was. She paid attention to the weather; that was one of the duties of a village Wisdom. She was Aes Sedai now, but that didn't mean she stopped being who she was. The weather was always there, in the back of her mind. She could sense the rain, sun, or snow in the wind's whispers.\n\nLately, however, the sensations hadn't been like whispers at all. More like distant shouts, growing louder. Or like waves crashing against one another, still far to the north, yet harder and harder to ignore.\n\n\"Well,\" Daigian said, \"I'm certain this isn't the only time in history that it has been cloudy for ten days!\"\n\nNynaeve shook her head, tugging on her braid. \"It's not normal,\" she said. \"And those overcast skies aren't the storm I'm talking about. It's still distant, but it's coming. And it is going to be terrible. Worse than any I've ever seen. Far worse.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well, then,\" Daigian said, sounding slightly uncomfortable, \"we will deal with it when it arrives. Are you going to sit down so that we can continue?\"\n\nNynaeve glanced at the plump Aes Sedai. Daigian was extremely weak in the Power. The White might just be the weakest Aes Sedai that Nynaeve had ever met. By traditional-yet unspoken-rules, that meant that Nynaeve should be allowed to take the lead.\n\nUnfortunately, Nynaeve's position was still questionable. Egwene had raised her to the shawl by decree, just as she'd raised Elayne: there had been no testing, nor had Nynaeve sworn on the Oath Rod. To most-even those who accepted Egwene's place as the true Amyrlin-those omissions made Nynaeve something less than Aes Sedai. Not an Accepted, but hardly equal to a sister.\n\nThe sisters with Cadsuane were particularly bad, as they hadn't declared for either the White Tower or the rebels. And the sisters sworn to Rand were worse; most were still loyal to the White Tower, not seeing a problem with supporting both Elaida and Rand. Nynaeve still wondered what Rand had been thinking, allowing sisters to swear fealty to him. She'd explained his mistake to him on several occasions-quite rationally-but talking to Rand these days was like talking to a stone. Only less effective and infinitely more infuriating.\n\nDaigian was still waiting for her to sit. Rather than provoke a contest of wills, Nynaeve did so. Daigian was still suffering from having lost her Warder-Eben, an Asha'man-during the fight with the Forsaken. Nynaeve had spent that fight completely absorbed by providing Rand with immense amounts of saidar to weave." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve could still remember the sheer joy-the awesome euphoria, strength, and sheer feel of life-that had come from drawing that much power. It frightened her. She was glad the ter'angreal she'd used to touch that power had been destroyed.\n\nBut the male ter'angreal was still intact: an access key to a powerful sa'angreal. As far as Nynaeve knew, Rand had not been able to persuade Cadsuane to return it to him. As well she shouldn't. No human being, not even the Dragon Reborn, should channel that much of the One Power. The things one could be tempted to do....\n\nShe'd told Rand that he needed to forget about the access key. Like talking to a stone. A big, red-haired, iron-faced idiot of a stone. Nynaeve harrumphed to herself. That caused Daigian to raise an eyebrow. The woman was quite good at controlling her grief, though Nynaeve-whose room in the Domani mansion was beside Daigian's-heard the woman crying to herself at night. It was not easy to lose one's Warder.\n\nLan....\n\nNo, best not to think of him at the moment. Lan would be fine. Only at the end of his journey of thousands of miles would he be in danger. It was there he intended to throw himself at the Shadow like alone arrow loosed at a brick wall...\n\nNo! she thought to herself. He will not be alone. I saw to that.\n\n\"Very well,\" Nynaeve said, forcing herself to focus, \"let us continue.\" She showed no deference to Daigian. She was doing this woman a favor, distracting her from her grief. That was how Corele had explained it, anyway. It wasn't, certainly, for Nynaeve's benefit that they met. She had nothing to prove. She was Aes Sedai, no matter what the others thought or implied." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This was all just a ruse to help Daigian. That was it. Nothing else.\n\n\"Here is the eighty-first weave,\" the White said. The glow of saidar sprang up around her, and she channeled, crafting a very complex weave of Fire, Air and Spirit. Complex, but useless. The weave created three burning rings of fire in the air which glowed with unusual light, but what was the point of that? Nynaeve already knew how to make fireballs and balls of light; why waste time learning weaves that repeated what she already knew, only in afar more complicated way? And why did each ring have to be a slightly different color?\n\nNynaeve waved an indifferent hand, repeating the weave exactly. \"Honestly,\" she said, \"that one seems the most useless of the bunch! What is the point of all of these?\"\n\nDaigian pursed her lips. She said nothing, but Nynaeve knew that Daigian thought that this all should be far more difficult for Nynaeve than it was. Eventually, the woman spoke. \"You cannot be told much about the testing. The only thing I can say is that you will need to repeat these weaves exactly, and do so while undergoing extreme distraction. When the time comes, you will understand.\"\n\n\"I doubt it,\" Nynaeve said flatly, copying the weave three times over while she spoke. \"Because-as I believe I've told you a dozen times already-I'm not going to betaking the test. I'm already Aes Sedai.\"\n\n\"Of course you are, dear.\"\n\nNynaeve ground her teeth. This had been a bad idea. When she'd approached Corele-supposedly a member of Nynaeve's own Ajah-the woman had refused to acknowledge her as an equal. She'd been pleasant about it, as Corele often was, but the implication had been clear. She'd even seemed sympathetic. Sympathetic! As if Nynaeve needed her pity. She had suggested that if Nynaeve knew the hundred weaves each Accepted learned for the test to become Aes Sedai, it might help with her credibility." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The problem was, this placed Nynaeve in a situation where she was all but treated as a student again. She did seethe use in knowing the hundred weaves-she'd spent far too short a time studying them, and virtually every sister knew it. However, by accepting the lessons, she hadn't meant to imply that she saw herself as a student!\n\nShe reached for her braid, but stopped herself. Her visible expressions of emotion were another factor in how she was treated by the other Aes Sedai. If only she had that ageless face! Bah!\n\nDaigian's next weave made a popping sound in the air, and once again the weave itself was needlessly complex. Nynaeve copied it with barely a thought, committing it to memory at the same time.\n\nDaigian stared at the weave fora moment, a distant look on her face.\n\n\"What?\" Nynaeve asked testily.\n\n\"Hmm? Oh, nothing. I just... the last time I made that weave, I used it to startle... I... never mind.\"\n\nEben. Her Warder had been young, maybe fifteen or sixteen, and she had been very fond of him. Eben and Daigian had played games together like a boy and an elder sister rather than Aes Sedai and Warder.\n\nA youth of only sixteen, Nynaeve thought, dead. Did Rand have to recruit them so young?\n\nDaigian's face grew stiff, controlling her emotions far better than Nynaeve would have been able to.\n\nLight send that I'm never in the same situation, she thought. At least not for many, many years. Lan wasn't her Warder yet, but she meant to have him as soon as possible. He was already her husband, after all. It still angered her that Myrelle had the bond." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I might be able to help, Daigian,\" Nynaeve said, leaning forward, laying her hand on the other woman's knee. \"If I were to attempt a Healing, perhaps....\"\n\n\"No,\" the woman said curtly.\n\n\"But-\"\n\n\"I doubt you could help.\"\n\n\"Anything can be Healed,\" Nynaeve said stubbornly, \"even if we don't know how yet. Anything save death.\"\n\n\"And what would you do, dear?\" Daigian asked. Nynaeve wondered if she refused to call her by name on purpose, or if it was an unconscious effect of their relationship. She couldn't use'child,\" as she would with an actual Accepted, but to call her'Nynaeve\" might imply equality.\n\n\"I could do something,\" Nynaeve said. \"This pain you feel, it has to bean effect of the bond, and therefore something to do with the One Power. If the Power causes your pain, then the Power can take that pain away.\"\n\n\"And why would I want that?\" Daigian asked, in control once again.\n\n\"Well... well, because it's pain. It hurts.\"\n\n\"It should,\" Daigian said. \"Eben is dead. Would you want to forget your pain if you lost that hulking giant of yours? Have your feelings for him cutaway like some spoiled chunk of flesh in an otherwise good roast?\"\n\nNynaeve opened her mouth, but stopped. Would she? It wasn't that simple-her feelings for Lan were genuine, and not due to a bond. He washer husband, and she loved him. Daigian had been possessive of her Warder, but it had been the affection of an aunt for her favored nephew. It wasn't the same." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Partnering with the author, carry on with the tale.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, last battle\nAuthor: Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson\nTitle: The Gathering Storm\nChapter: 32" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Northward, on the shallow slope, a scrub of broad-bladed grasses and squat brush swayed like waves in the wind. There was no specific line where the Blight began. A spot on a blade there, a sickly cast to a stem there. Each individual speck was innocent, yet there were too many, far too many. At the top of the hillside, not a single plant was free of the spots. The pox seemed to fester even as he watched.\n\nThere was an oily sense of death to the Blight, of plants barely surviving, kept alive like prisoners starved to the very edge of mortality. If Rand had seen anything like this back in afield in the Two Rivers, he would have burnt the entire crop, and would have been surprised that it hadn't been done already.\n\nTo his side, Bashere knuckled his long, dark mustaches. \"I remember when it didn't start for another few leagues,\" he noted. \"That wasn't so long ago.\"\n\n\"I have patrols running the length of it already,\" Ituralde said. He stared out at the sickly landscape. \"All the reports are the same. It's quiet out there.\"\n\n\"That should be enough warning that something is wrong,\" Bashere said. \"There are always patrols or raids of Trollocs to fight. If not that, then something worse, to scare them away. Worms or bloodwrasps.\"\n\nIturalde leaned one arm on his saddle, shaking his head as he continued staring at the Blight. \"I've no experience with fighting such things. I know how men think, but Trolloc raiding parties keep no supply lines, and I've only heard stories of what worms can do.\"\n\n\"I will leave some of Bashere's officers with you as advisors,\" Rand said." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That would help,\" Ituralde said, \"but I wonder if it wouldn't be better to just leave him here. His soldiers could patrol this area, and you could use my troops in Arad Doman. No offense, my Lord, but don't you think it's odd to have us working in each other's kingdoms?\"\n\n\"No,\" Rand said. It wasn't odd, it was bitter sense. He trusted Bashere, and the Saldaeans had served Rand well, but it would be dangerous to leave them in their own homelands. Bashere was uncle to the Queen herself, and what of his men? How would they react when their own people asked why they had become Dragonsworn? Strange as it was, Rand knew that he would cause a much smaller conflagration by leaving foreigners on Saldaean soil.\n\nHis reasoning with Ituralde was equally brutal. The man had sworn to him, but allegiances could change. Out here, near the Blight, Ituralde and his troops would have very little opportunity to turn against Rand. They were in hostile territory, and Rand's Asha'man would be their only quick means of getting back to Arad Doman. If left in his homeland, however, Ituralde could marshal troops and perhaps decide he didn't need the Dragon Reborn's protection.\n\nIt was much safer to keep the armies in hostile territory. Rand hated thinking that way, but that was one of the main differences between the man he had been and the man he had become. Only one of those men could do what needed to be done, no matter that he hated it.\n\n\"Narishma,\" Rand called. \"Gateway.\"\n\nHe didn't have to turn to feel Narishma seize the One Power and begin weaving. The sensation prickled at Rand, enticing, but he fought it off. It was becoming more and more difficult for him to seize the Power without emptying his stomach, and he did not intend to sick up in front of Ituralde." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You shall have a hundred Asha'man by the end of the week,\" Rand said, speaking to Ituralde. \"I suspect you will make good use of them.\"\n\n\"Yes, I think I can do just that.\"\n\n\"I want daily reports, even if nothing happens,\" Rand replied. \"Send the messengers through a gateway. I'll be breaking camp and moving to Bandar Eban in four days.\"\n\nBashere grunted; this was the first Rand had said of the move. Rand turned his horse toward the large, open gateway behind them. Some of the Maidens had already ducked through, going first, as always. Narishma stood to the side, his hair in its two dark braids set with bells. He had been a Borderlander, too, before he had become Asha'man. Too many clouded loyalties. Which would come first for Narishma? His homeland? Rand? The Aes Sedai to whom he was a Warder? Rand was fairly certain the man was loyal; he was one of those who had come to him at Dumai's Wells. But the most dangerous enemies were those you assumed you could trust.\n\nNone of them can be trusted! Lews Therin said. We should never have let them get so close to us. They'll turn onus!\n\nThe madman always had trouble with other men who could channel. Rand nudged Tai'daishar forward, ignoring Lews Therin's ramblings, though hearing the voice did take him back to that night. The night where he had dreamed of Moridin, and there had been no Lews Therin in his mind. It twisted Rand's belly to know that his dreams were no longer safe. He had come to rely on them as a refuge. Nightmares could take him, true, but they were his own nightmares." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Why had Moridin come to help Rand in Shadar Logoth, back during the fight with Sammael? What twisted webs was he weaving? He had claimed that Rand had invaded his dream, but was that just another lie?\n\nI have to destroy them, he thought. All of the Forsaken, and I must do it for good this time. I must be hard.\n\nExcept that Min didn't want him to be hard. He didn't want to frighten her, of all people. There were no games with Min; she might call him a fool, but she did not lie, and that made him want to be the man she wished him to be. But did he dare? Could a man who could laugh also be the man who could face what needed to be done at Shayol Ghul?\n\nTo live you must die, the answer to one of his three questions. If he succeeded, his memory-his legacy-would live on after he died. It was not very comforting. He didn't want to die. Who did? The Aiel claimed they did not seek death, though they embraced it when it came.\n\nHe entered the gateway, Traveling back to the manor house in Arad Doman, with the ring of pines surrounding the trampled brown grounds and the long ranks of tents. It would take a hard man to face his own death, to fight the Dark One while his blood spilled on the rocks. Who could laugh in the face of that?\n\nHe shook his head. Having Lews Therin in his mind didn't help.\n\nShe's right, Lews Therin said suddenly.\n\nShe? Rand asked.\n\nThe pretty one. With the short hair. She says we need to break the seals. She's right.\n\nRand froze, pulling Tai'daishar up short, ignoring the groom who had come to take the horse. To hear Lews Therin agreeing...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "What do we do after that?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand asked.\n\nWe die. You promised we could die!\n\nOnly if we defeat the Dark One, Rand said. You know that if he wins, there will be nothing for us. Not even death.\n\nYes... nothing, Lews Therin said. That would be nice. No pain, no regret. Nothing.\n\nRand felt a chill. If Lews Therin began to think that way... No, Rand said, it wouldn't be nothing. He would have our soul. The pain would be worse, far worse.\n\nLews Therin began to weep.\n\nLews Therin! Rand snapped in his mind. What do we do? How did you seal the Bore last time?\n\nIt didn't work, Lews Therin whispered. We used saidin, but we touched it to the Dark One. It was the only way! Something has to touch him, something to close the gap, but he was able to taint it. The seal was weak!\n\nYes, but what do we do differently? Rand thought.\n\nSilence. Rand sat fora moment, then slid off of Tai'daishar and let the nervous groom lead him away. The rest of the Maidens were coming through the large gateway, Bashere and Narishma taking the rear. Rand didn't wait for them, though he noticed Deira Bashere-Davram Bashere's wife-standing outside the Traveling ground. The tall, statuesque woman had dark hair with lines of white at the temples. She gave Rand a measuring look. What would she do if Bashere died in Rand's service? Would she continue to follow, or would she lead the troops away, back to Saldaea? She was as strong of will as her husband. Perhaps more so." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand passed her with a nod and a smile and walked through the evening camp toward the manor house. So Lews Therin did not know how to seal the Dark One's prison. What good was the voice then? Burn him, but he had been one of Rand's few hopes!\n\nMost people here were wise enough to move away when they saw him stalking across the grounds. Rand could remember when such moods hadn't struck him, when he had been a simple sheepherder. Rand the Dragon Reborn was a different man altogether. He was a man of responsibility and duty. He had to be.\n\nDuty. Duty was like a mountain. Well, Rand felt as if he was trapped between a good dozen different mountains, all moving to destroy him. Among those forces, his emotions seemed to boil under pressure. Was it any wonder when they burst free?\n\nHe shook his head, approaching the manor. To the east lay the Mountains of Mist. The sun was near to setting, and the mountains were bathed in a red light. Beyond them and to the south, so strangely close, lay Emond's Field and the Two Rivers. A home he would never see again, fora visit would only alert his enemies to his affection for it. He had worked hard to make them think he was a man without affection. At times, he feared that his ruse had become reality.\n\nMountains. Mountains like duty. The duty of solitude in this case, for somewhere southward along those too-near mountains was his father. Tam. Rand hadn't seen him in so long. Tam was his father. Rand had decided that. He had never known his birth father, the Aiel clan chief named Janduin, and while he had obviously been a man of honor, Rand had no desire to call him father." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At times, Rand longed for Tam's voice, his wisdom. Those were the times when Rand knew he had to be the most hard, fora moment of weakness-a moment running to his father for succor-would destroy nearly everything he had worked for. And it would likely mean the end of Tam's life as well.\n\nRand entered the manor house through the burned hole in the front, pushing aside the thick canvas that now formed an entry, and kept his back to the Mountains of Mist. He was alone. He needed to be alone. Relying on anyone would risk being weak when he reached Shayol Ghul. At the Last Battle, he would not be able to lean on anyone other than himself.\n\nDuty. How many mountains must one man carry?\n\nIt still smelled of smoke inside the manor house. Lord Tellaen had complained about the fire hesitantly-yet persistently-until Rand had ordered compensation for the man, although the bubble of evil hadn't been Rand's fault. Or had it? Being ta'veren had many strange effects, from making people say things they wouldn't normally to bringing him the allegiance of those who had been wavering. He was a focus for trouble, bubbles of evil included. He hadn't chosen to be that focus, but he had chosen to stay in the manor house.\n\nEither way, Tellaen had been compensated. It was a pittance compared with the amount of money Rand was spending to fund his armies, and even that was small compared with the funds he'd dedicated to bring food to Arad Doman and other troubled areas. At this rate, his stewards worried that he would soon bankrupt his assets in Illian, Tear and Cairhien. Rand had not told them that he didn't care.\n\nHe would seethe world to the Last Battle." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And will you have no legacy other than that? a voice whispered in the back of his mind. Not Lews Therin, but his own thought, a small voice, the part of him that had prompted him to found schools in Cairhien and Andor. You wish to live after you die? Will you leave all of those who follow you to war, famine and chaos? Will the destruction be how you live on?\n\nRand shook his head. He couldn't fix everything! He was just one man. Looking beyond the Last Battle was foolish. He couldn't worry about the world then, he couldn't. To do so would be to take his eye off the goal.\n\nAnd what is the goal? that voice seemed to say. Is it to survive, or is it to thrive? Will you set the groundwork for another Breaking or for another Age of Legends?\n\nHe had no answers. Lews Therin roused slightly, babbling incoherently. Rand climbed the stairs to the second floor of the manor. Light, he was tired.\n\nWhat was it the madman had said? When he'd sealed the Bore into the Dark One's prison, he'd used saidin. That was because so many of the Aes Sedai at the time had turned against him, and he'd been left only with the Hundred Companions-the most powerful male Aes Sedai of his time. No women. The female Aes Sedai had called his plan too risky.\n\nEerily, Rand felt as if he could almost remember those events-not what had happened, but the anger, the desperation, the decision. Was the mistake, then, not using the female half of the power as well as the male? Was that what had allowed the Dark One to counterstrike and taint saidin, driving Lews Therin and the remaining men of the Hundred Companions insane?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Could it be that simple? How many Aes Sedai would he need? Would he need any? Plenty of Wise Ones could channel. Surely there was more to it than that.\n\nThere was a game children played, Snakes and Foxes. It was said that the only way to win was to break the rules. What of his other plan, then? Could he break the rules by slaying the Dark One? Was that something that even he, the Dragon Reborn, dared contemplate?\n\nHe crossed the creaking wood floor of the hallway and pushed open the door to his room. Min lay propped up by pillows on the log bed, wearing her embroidered green trousers and a linen shirt, as she leafed through yet another book by the light of a lamp. An elderly serving woman bustled about, collecting dishes from Min's evening meal. Rand threw off his coat, sighing to himself and flexing his hand.\n\nHe sat down on the side of the bed as Min set aside her book, a volume called A Comprehensive Discussion of Pre-Breaking Relics. She sat up and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. Bowls clinked as the serving woman gathered them, and she bowed in apology, moving with extra speed as she placed them in her carrying basket.\n\n\"You're pushing yourself too hard again, sheepherder,\" Min said.\n\n\"I have to.\"\n\nShe pinched his neck hard, and he flinched, grunting. \"No you don't,\" she said, her voice close to his ear. \"Haven't you been listening tome? What goodwill you be if you wear yourself out before you reach the Last Battle? Light, Rand, I haven't heard you laugh in months!\"\n\n\"Is this really a time for laughter?\" he asked. \"You would have me be happy while children starve and men slaughter one another? I should laugh to hear that Trollocs are still getting through the Ways? I should be happy that the majority of the Forsaken are still out there somewhere, plotting how best to kill me?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well, no,\" Min said. \"Of course not. But we can't let the troubles in the world destroy us. Cadsuane says that-\"\n\n\"Wait,\" he snapped, twisting around so that he was facing her. She knelt on the bed, short dark hair curling down beneath her chin. She looked shocked by his tone.\n\n\"What does Cadsuane have to do with this?\" he asked.\n\nMin frowned. \"Nothing.\"\n\n\"She's been telling you what to say,\" Rand said. \"She's been using you to get tome!\"\n\n\"Don't bean idiot,\" Min said.\n\n\"What has she said about me?\"\n\nMin shrugged. \"She worries about how harsh you've become. Rand, what is this?\"\n\n\"She's trying to get tome, manipulate me,\" he said. \"She's using you. What have you told her, Min?\"\n\nMin pinched him again sharply. \"I don't like that tone, looby. I thought Cadsuane was your counselor. Why should I need to watch what I say around her?\"\n\nThe serving woman continued to clink dishes. Why couldn't she just leave! This wasn't the kind of discussion he wanted to have in front of strangers.\n\nMin couldn't be working with Cadsuane, could she? Rand didn't trust Cadsuane by any measure. If she'd gotten to Min....\n\nRand felt his heart twist. He wasn't suspicious of Min, was he? She'd always been the one he could look to for honesty, the one who played no games with him. What would he do if he lost her? Burn me! he thought. She's right. I've grown too harsh. What will become of me if I begin to grow suspicious of those that I know love me? I'll be no better than mad Lews Therin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Min,\" he said, softening his voice. \"Maybe you're right. Perhaps I've gone too far.\"\n\nShe turned to look at him, relaxing. Then she stiffened, eyes widening in shock.\n\nSomething cold clicked around Rand's neck.\n\nRand immediately raised his hand to his neck, spinning. The serving woman stood behind him, but her form was shimmering. She vanished and was replaced by a woman with dark skin and black eyes, her sharp face triumphant. Semirhage.\n\nRand's hand touched metal. Too-cold metal that felt like ice, pressed against his skin. Ina rage, he tried to pull free his sword from its black, dragon-painted sheath, but found that he could not do so. His legs strained as if against some incredible weight. He scratched at the collar-his fingers could still move-but the metal seemed to be a single solid piece.\n\nAt that moment, Rand felt terror. He met Semirhage's eyes anyway, and she smiled deeply. \"I've been waiting for quite along time to get a Domination Band on you, Lews Therin. Odd, how circumstances occur, isn't-\"\n\nSomething flashed in the air, and Semirhage barely had time to cry out before something deflected the blade just barely-a weave of Air, Rand could only assume, though he could not see weaves made from saidar. Still, Min's knife had left a gash on the side of Semirhage's face before passing by and burying itself in the wood of the door.\n\n\"Guards!\" Min cried. \"Maidens, to arms! The Car'a\"carn is in danger!\"\n\nSemirhage cursed, waving a hand, and Min cutoff. Rand twisted anxiously, trying-and failing-to seize saidin. Something blocked him. Min was tossed off the bed by weaves of Air, her mouth locked shut. Rand tried to run to her, but again found that he could not. His legs simply refused to move." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At that moment, the door to his room opened. Another woman entered with a hurried step. She glanced out of the doorway, as if watching for something, then closed it behind her. Elza. Rand felt a surge of hope, but then the small woman joined Semirhage, taking up the other bracelet that controlled the a'dam around Rand's neck. She looked up at Rand, her eyes red, looking dazed-as if something had hither soundly on the head. However, when she saw him kneeling, she smiled. \"And so you finally come to your destiny, Rand al'Thor. You will face the Great Lord. And you will lose.\"\n\nElza. Elza was Black, burn her! Rand's skin prickled as he felt her embrace saidar, standing beside her mistress. They both confronted him, each one wearing a bracelet, and Semirhage looked supremely confident.\n\nRand growled, turning to Semirhage. He would not be trapped like this!\n\nThe Forsaken touched the bleeding gash on her cheek, then tsked to herself. She wore a drab brown dress. How had she escaped captivity? And where had she gotten this cursed collar? Rand had given that to Cadsuane for safekeeping. She had vowed that it would be safe!\n\n\"No guards will come, Lews Therin,\" Semirhage said absently, holding up her braceleted hand; the bracelet matched the collar on his neck. \"I've warded the room against listeners. You will find that you cannot so much as move unless I allow it. You've tried already, and you must see how futile it is.\"\n\nDesperate, Rand reached for saidin again, but found nothing. In his head, Lews Therin began to snarl and weep, and Rand felt almost as if he would join the man. Min! He had to get to her. He had to be strong enough!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "He forced himself toward Semirhage and Elza, but it was as if he were trying to move someone else's legs." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He was trapped in his own head, like Lews Therin. He opened his mouth to curse, but nothing came out beyond a croak.\n\n\"Yes,\" Semirhage said, \"you cannot speak without permission either. And I would suggest that you not reach for saidin again. You will find the experience unpleasant. When I tested the Domination Band before, I found it to be afar more elegant tool than those Seanchan a'dam. Their a'dam allow some small measure of freedom, relying on nausea as an inhibitor. The Domination Band demands far more obedience. You will act exactly as I desire. For instance....\"\n\nRand stood up off the bed, his legs moving against his will. Then, his own hand whipped up and began to squeeze his throat just above the neckband. He gasped, stumbling. Frantic, he reached again for saidin.\n\nHe found pain. It was as if he'd reached into a burning vat of oil, then drawn the fiery liquid into his own veins. He screamed in shock and agony, collapsing to the wooden floor. The pain made him writhe, his vision growing black.\n\n\"You see.\" Semirhage's voice sounded distant. \"Ah, I had forgotten how satisfying that is.\"\n\nThe pain was like a million ants burrowing through his skin and down to the bone. He twisted, muscles spasming.\n\nWe're in the box again! Lews Therin cried.\n\nAnd suddenly, he was. He could see it, the black confines, crushing him. His body sore from repeated beatings, his mind frantic to remain sane. Lews Therin had been his only companion. It was one of the first times Rand could remember communicating with the madman; Lews Therin had started to respond to him only shortly before that day." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand hadn't been willing to see Lews Therin as part of himself. The mad part of himself, the part that could deal with the torture, if only because it was already so tortured. More pain and suffering was meaningless. You could not fill a cup that had already begun to overflow.\n\nHe stopped screaming. The pain was still there, it made his eyes water, but the screams would not come. All fell still.\n\nSemirhage looked down at him, frowning, blood dripping from her chin. Another wave of pain washed across him. Whoever he was.\n\nHe stared up at her. Silent.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" she said, compelling him. \"Speak.\"\n\n\"No more can be done tome,\" he whispered.\n\nAnother wave of pain. It shocked him, and something inside of him whimpered, but he gave no outward reaction. Not because he held the screams in, but because he couldn't feel anything. The box, the two wounds in his side corrupting his own blood, beatings, humiliation, sorrows and his own suicide. Killing himself. He could suddenly and starkly remember that. After all of these things, what more could Semirhage do to him?\n\n\"Great Mistress,\" Elza said, turning to Semirhage, eyes still seeming faintly dazed by something. \"Perhaps now we should-\"\n\n\"Quiet, worm,\" Semirhage spat at her, wiping the blood from her chin. She looked at it. \"That's twice now those knives have tasted my blood.\" She shook her head, then turned and smiled at Rand. \"You say nothing more can be done to you? You forget, Lews Therin, to whom you speak. Pain is my specialty, and you are still little more than a boy. I've broken men ten times as strong as you. Stand.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "He did." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The pain had not gone away. She obviously intended to keep using it against him until she got a reaction.\n\nHe turned around, obeying her wordless command, and found Min hanging above the floor, tied by invisible ropes of Air. Her eyes were wild with fear, her arms bound behind her back, her mouth blocked by a woven Air gag.\n\nSemirhage chuckled. \"There is nothing more that I can do, you say?\"\n\nRand seized saidin-not of his choice, but of hers. The roar of power slammed into him, bringing with it the strange nausea that he'd never been able to explain. He fell to his hand and knees, emptying his stomach with a groan as the room shook and spun around him.\n\n\"How odd,\" he heard Semirhage say, as if distant. He shook his head, still holding the One Power-wrestling with it as he always had to with saidin, forcing that powerful, twisting flow of energy to his will. It was like chaining a tempest of wind, and was difficult even when he was strong and healthy. Now it was nearly impossible.\n\nUse it, Lews Therin whispered. Kill her while we can!\n\nI will not kill a woman, Rand thought stubbornly, a figment of a memory from the back of his mind. That is the line I will not cross....\n\nLews Therin roared, trying to take saidin from Rand, but without success. In fact, Rand found that he couldn't channel willfully anymore than he could step without Semirhage's permission.\n\nHe righted himself by her command, the room growing more steady, the nausea retreating. And then he began to form weaves, complicated ones of Spirit and Fire.\n\n\"Yes,\" Semirhage said, almost to herself. \"Now, if I can remember.... The male way of doing this is so odd, sometimes.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand made the weaves, then pushed them toward Min. \"No!\" he screamed as he did so. \"Not that!\"\n\n\"Ah, so you see,\" Semirhage said. \"You weren't so difficult to break after all.\"\n\nThe weaves touched Min and she writhed in pain. Rand continued to channel, tears springing to his eyes as he was forced to send the complex weaves through her body. They brought agony only, but they did it very well. Semirhage must have released Min's gag, for she began to scream, weeping.\n\n\"Please, Rand!\" she begged. \"Please!\"\n\nRand roared in anger, trying to stop, unable to. He could feel Min's pain through the bond, feel it as he caused it.\n\n\"Stop this!\" he bellowed.\n\n\"Beg,\" Semirhage said.\n\n\"Please,\" he said, weeping. \"Please, I beg you.\"\n\nSuddenly, he stopped, the torturing weaves unraveling. Min hung in the air, whimpering, eyes dazed from the shock of pain. Rand turned around, facing Semirhage and the smaller figure of Elza beside her. The Black looked terrified, as if she'd gotten herself into something she hadn't been prepared for.\n\n\"Now,\" the Forsaken said, \"you see that you have always been intended to serve the Great Lord. We will leave this room and will deal with those so-called Aes Sedai who imprisoned me. We will Travel to Shayol Ghul and present you to the Great Lord, and then this can all be finished.\"\n\nHe bowed his head. There had to be away out! He imagined her using him to tear through the ranks of his own men. He imagined them afraid to attack, lest they harm him. He saw the blood, death and destruction he would cause. And it chilled him, turned him to ice inside." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They have won.\n\nSemirhage glanced at the door, then turned back to him and smiled. \"But I'm afraid we must deal with her first. Let us be about it, then.\"\n\nRand turned and began to walk toward Min. \"No!\" he said. \"You promised if I begged-\"\n\n\"I promised nothing,\" Semirhage said with a laugh. \"You begged quite prettily, Lews Therin, but I have chosen to ignore your pleas. You can release saidin, however. This needs to be somewhat more personal.\"\n\nSaidin winked away, and Rand felt the withdrawal of power with regret. The world seemed more dull around him. He stepped up to Min, her pleading eyes meeting his. Then he pressed his hand to her throat, gripping it, and began to squeeze.\n\n\"No....\" he whispered in horror as his hand, against his will, cutoff her air. Min stumbled, and he unwillingly forced her down to the ground, easily ignoring her struggles. He loomed above her, pressing his hand against her throat, gripping it and choking her. She looked at him, eyes beginning to bulge.\n\nThis can't be happening.\n\nSemirhage laughed.\n\nIlyena! Lews Therin wailed. Oh, Light! I've killed her!\n\nRand squeezed harder, leaning down for leverage, his fingers squeezing Min's skin and pushing down on her throat. It was as if he gripped his own heart, and the world became black around him, everything darkened except for Min. He could feel her pulse throbbing beneath his fingers.\n\nThose beautiful dark eyes of hers watched him, loving him even as he killed her.\n\nThis can't be happening!\n\nI've killed her!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I'm mad!\n\nIlyena!\n\nThere had to be away out! Had to be! Rand wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't. She wouldn't let him-not Semirhage, but Min. She held his eyes with her own, tears lining her cheeks, dark, curled hair disheveled. So beautiful.\n\nHe scrambled for saidin, but could not take it. He tried with every bit of will he had to relax his fingers, but they just continued to squeeze. He felt horror, he felt her pain. Min's face grew purple, her eyes fluttered.\n\nRand wailed. THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING! I WILL NOT DO THIS AGAIN!\n\nSomething snapped inside of him. He grew cold; then that coldness vanished, and he could feel nothing. No emotion. No anger.\n\nAt that moment he grew aware of a strange force. It was like a reservoir of water, boiling and churning just beyond his view. He reached toward it with his mind.\n\nA clouded face flashed before Rand's own, one whose features he couldn't quite make out. It was gone in a moment.\n\nAnd Rand found himself filled with an alien power. Not saidin, not saidar, but something else. Something he'd never felt before.\n\nOh, Light, Lews Therin suddenly screamed. That's impossible! We can't use it! Cast it away! That is death we hold, death and betrayal.\n\nIt is HIM.\n\nRand closed his eyes as he knelt above Min, then he channeled the strange, unknown force. Energy and life surged through him, a torrent of power like saidin, only ten times as sweet and a hundred times as violent. It made him alive, made him realize that he'd never been alive before. It gave him such strength as he'd never imagined. It rivaled, even, the power he'd held when drawing from the Choedan Kal." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He screamed, in both rapture and rage, and wove enormous spears of Fire and Air. He slammed the weaves against the collar at his neck, and the room exploded with flames and bits of molten metal, each one distinct to Rand. He could feel each shard of metal blast away from his neck, warping the air with its heat, trailing smoke as it hit a wall or the floor. He opened his eyes and released Min. She gasped and sobbed.\n\nRand stood and turned, white-hot magma in his veins-as when Semirhage had tortured him, yet somehow opposite. As painful as this was, it was also pure ecstasy.\n\nSemirhage looked utterly shocked. \"But... that's impossible...\" she said. \"I felt nothing. You can't-\" She looked up, staring at him with wide eyes. \"The True Power. Why have you betrayed me, Great Lord? Why?\"\n\nRand raised a hand and, filled with the power he did not understand, wove a single weave. A bar of pure white light, a cleansing fire, burst from his hand and struck Semirhage in the chest. She flashed and vanished, leaving a faint afterimage to Rand's vision. Her bracelet dropped to the floor.\n\nElza ran toward the door. She vanished before another bar of light, her entire figure becoming light fora moment. Her bracelet dropped to the floor, as well, the women who had held them burned completely from the Pattern.\n\nWhat have you done? Lews Therin asked. Oh, Light. Better to have killed again than to do this.... Oh, Light. We are doomed.\n\nRand savored the power fora moment longer, then-regretfully-let it drop away. He would have held on, but he was simply too exhausted. The vanishing of it left him numb." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Or... no. That numbness had nothing to do with the power he'd held. He turned around, looking down at Min, who coughed quietly and rubbed her neck. She looked up at him, and seemed afraid. He doubted that she would ever see him the same way again.\n\nHe had been wrong; there had indeed been something more that Semirhage could do to him. He had felt himself killing one he loved dearly. Before, when he'd done it as Lews Therin, he had been mad and unable to control himself. He could barely remember slaying Ilyena, as if through a clouded dream. He'd realized what he had done only after Ishamael had awakened him.\n\nFinally, now, he knew precisely what it was like to watch as he killed those he loved.\n\n\"It is done,\" Rand whispered.\n\n\"What?\" Min asked, coughing again.\n\n\"The last that could be done tome,\" he said, surprised at his own calmness. \"They have taken everything from me now.\"\n\n\"What are you saying, Rand?\" Min asked. She rubbed her neck again. Bruises were beginning to show.\n\nHe shook his head as-finally-voices sounded in the hallway outside. Perhaps the Asha'man had sensed him channeling when he'd tortured Min.\n\n\"I have made my choice, Min,\" he said, turning toward the door. \"You have asked for flexibility and laughter from me, but such things are no longer mine to give. I am sorry.\"\n\nOnce, weeks ago, he had decided that he must become stronger-where he had been iron, he had decided to become steel. It appeared that steel was too weak.\n\nHe would be harder, now. He understood how. Where he had once been steel, he became something else. From now on, he was cuendillar. He had entered a place like the void that Tam had trained him to seek, so long ago. But within this void he had no emotion. None at all." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They could not break or bend him.\n\nIt was done." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What of the sisters who were guarding her cell?\" Cadsuane asked, stomping up the wooden steps beside Merise.\n\n\"Corele and Nesune are alive, thankfully, though they were left extremely weak,\" Merise said, holding her skirt up as she hurried along. Narishma followed them, the bells at the end of his braids ringing softly. \"Daigian is dead. We're not certain why the other two were left alive.\"\n\n\"Warders,\" Cadsuane said. \"Kill the Aes Sedai, and their Warders would know immediately-and we would have learned that something was wrong.\" The Warders should have noticed that something was wrong anyway-they'd have to interrogate the men to see what they had felt. But there was likely a correlation.\n\nDaigian had no living Warder. Cadsuane felt a stab of regret for the pleasant sister, but shoved it aside. No time for it now.\n\n\"The other two were placed in some kind of trance,\" Merise said. \"I could see no remnants of weaves, nor could Narishma. We discovered the sisters just before the alarm was sounded, then went for you as soon as we were assured that al'Thor was alive and our enemies had been dealt with.\"\n\nCadsuane nodded crossly. Of all the nights to be out visiting the Wise Ones in their tents! Sorilea and a small group of them followed behind Narishma, and Cadsuane didn't dare slow her pace, lest the Aiel women trample her in their haste to see al'Thor.\n\nThey reached the top of the stairs, then sped down the hallway toward al'Thor's room. How could he have gotten himself into this much trouble, again! And how had that blasted Forsaken gotten free of her cell? Someone must have helped her, but that meant a Darkfriend in their camp. It wasn't unlikely-if Darkfriends existed in the White Tower, then they could undoubtedly be found here. But what Darkfriend could incapacitate three Aes Sedai? Surely channeling on that level should have been felt by every sister or Asha'man in the camp." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Was the tea involved?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Cadsuane asked Merise quietly.\n\n\"Not that we can tell,\" the Green replied. \"We'll know more when the other two wake. They fell unconscious as soon as we brought them out of their trance.\"\n\nCadsuane nodded. Al'Thor's door was open, and Maidens swarmed outside it like wasps who had just discovered their nest was gone. Cadsuane couldn't say that she blamed them. Apparently, al'Thor had said little of what had happened. The fool boy was lucky to still be alive! What a Light-cursed mess, Cadsuane thought, passing the Maidens and entering the chamber.\n\nA small knot of Aes Sedai clustered on the far side of the room, speaking quietly. Sarene, Erian, Beldeine-all of those in the camp who weren't either dead or incapacitated. Except Elza. Where was Elza?\n\nThe three nodded to Cadsuane as she entered, but she spared them barely a glance. Min sat on the bed, rubbing her neck, eyes red, short hair disheveled, face pale. Al'Thor stood beside the open far window, looking out at the night, his hand clasping his stump behind him. His coat lay rumpled on the floor, and he stood in white shirtsleeves, a cool wind blowing in and ruffling his red-gold hair. Nynaeve watched him, frowning.\n\nCadsuane surveyed the room; behind her, in the hall, the Wise Ones began to interrogate the Maidens. \"Well?\" Cadsuane said. \"What happened?\"\n\nMin looked up. There were red marks on her neck, the beginnings of bruises. Rand did not turn from the window. Insolent boy, Cadsuane thought, coming farther into the room. \"Speak up, boy!\" she said. \"We need to know if the camp is in danger.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"The danger has been dealt with,\" he said softly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Something in his voice made her hesitate. She had been expecting anger, or perhaps satisfaction, from him. Fatigue at the very least. Instead, his voice sounded cool.\n\n\"Will you explain what that means?\" Cadsuane demanded.\n\nFinally, he turned, looking at her. She took an involuntary step backward, though she couldn't say why. He was still the same foolish boy. Too tall, too self-confident, and too blunt-headed. There was a strange serenity about him now, but it had a dark edge. Like the serenity one saw in the eyes of a condemned man the moment before he stepped up to the hangman's noose.\n\n\"Narishma,\" Rand said, looking past Cadsuane. \"I have a weave for you. Memorize it; I will show it to you only once.\" With that, al'Thor put his handout to the side and a bar of brilliant white fire shot from between his fingers and struck his coat, which lay on the floor. It vanished in a burst of light.\n\nCadsuane hissed. \"I told you never to use that weave, boy! You will never do so again. Do you hear me! This is not-\"\n\n\"That is the weave we must use when fighting Forsaken, Narishma,\" al'Thor said, his quiet voice cutting straight through Cadsuane's. \"If we kill them with anything else, they can be reborn. It is a dangerous tool, but still just a tool. Like any other.\"\n\n\"It is forbidden,\" Cadsuane said.\n\n\"I have decided that it is not,\" al'Thor said calmly.\n\n\"You don't have any idea what that weave can do! You're a child playing with-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have seen balefire destroy cities,\" al'Thor said, eyes growing haunted. \"I have seen thousands burned from the Pattern by its purifying flames. If you call me a child, Cadsuane, then what are those of you who are thousands of years my juniors?\"\n\nHe met her gaze. Light! What had happened to him? She struggled to collect her thoughts. \"So Semirhage is dead?\"\n\n\"Worse than dead,\" al'Thor said. \"And far better off, in many ways, I should think.\"\n\n\"Well, then. I suppose we can get on with-\"\n\n\"Do you recognize that, Cadsuane?\" al'Thor said, nodding toward something metallic sitting on the bed, mostly hidden by the sheets.\n\nHesitantly she walked forward. Sorilea looked over, expression unreadable. Apparently, she didn't wish to be drawn into the conversation when al'Thor was in such a mood. Cadsuane didn't blame her.\n\nCadsuane pulled back the sheets, revealing a familiar pair of bracelets. There was no collar.\n\n\"Impossible,\" she whispered.\n\n\"That is what I assumed,\" al'Thor said in that terribly calm voice of his. \"I told myself that it obviously couldn't be one of the same ter'angreal I relinquished to you. You promised they would be protected and hidden.\"\n\n\"Well, then,\" Cadsuane said, unnerved. She covered the things backup. \"That is settled then.\"\n\n\"It is. I sent people to your room. Tell me, is this box where you were keeping the bracelets? We found it open on the floor of your quarters.\"\n\nA Maiden brought out a familiar oak box. It was the same one, obviously. Cadsuane turned toward him in anger. \"You searched my room!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I was unaware that you were visiting the Wise Ones,\" al'Thor said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He gave a small nod of respect to Sorilea and Amys, which they hesitantly returned. \"I sent servants to check on you, as I feared that Semirhage might have tried for revenge on you.\"\n\n\"They shouldn't have touched this,\" Cadsuane said, taking the box from the Maiden. \"It was prepared with very intricate wards.\"\n\n\"Not intricate enough,\" al'Thor said, turning away from her. He still stood by that darkened window, looking out over the camp.\n\nThe room fell silent. Narishma had been asking quietly after Min's health, but he fell silent when al'Thor stopped speaking. Rand obviously felt that Cadsuane was responsible for the male a'dam being stolen, but that was preposterous. She had prepared the best ward she knew, but who knew what knowledge the Forsaken had forgetting past wards?\n\nHow had al'Thor survived? And what of the other contents of that box? Did al'Thor now have the access key, or had the statuette been taken by Semirhage? Did Cadsuane dare ask? The silence continued. \"What are you waiting for?\" she finally asked with all the bravado she could summon. \"Do you expect an apology from me?\"\n\n\"From you?\" al'Thor asked. There was no humor in his voice, just the same cold evenness. \"No, I suspect that I could sooner extract an apology from a stone than from you.\"\n\n\"Then-\"\n\n\"You are exiled from my sight, Cadsuane,\" he said softly. \"If I see your face again after tonight, I will kill you.\"\n\n\"Rand, no!\" Min said, standing up beside the bed. He didn't turn toward her.\n\nCadsuane felt an immediate stab of panic, but shoved it aside with her anger. \"What?\" she demanded. \"This is foolishness, boy. I....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "He turned, and again that gaze of his made her trail off." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was a danger to it, a shadowy cast to his eyes that struck her with more fear than she'd thought her aging heart could summon. As she watched, the air around him seemed to warp, and she could almost think that the room had grown darker.\n\n\"But....\" She found herself stuttering. \"But you don't kill women. Everyone knows it. You can hardly put the Maidens into danger for fear of them getting hurt!\"\n\n\"I have been forced to revise that particular inclination,\" al'Thor said. \"As of tonight.\"\n\n\"But-\"\n\n\"Cadsuane,\" he said softly, \"do you believe that I could kill you? Right here, right now, without using a sword or the Power? Do you believe that if I simply willed it, the Pattern would bend around me and stop your heart? By... coincidence?\"\n\nBeing ta'veren didn't work that way. Light! It didn't, did it? He couldn't bend the very Pattern to his will, could he?\n\nAnd yet, meeting his eyes, she did believe. Against all logic, she looked in those eyes and knew that if she didn't leave, she would die.\n\nShe nodded slowly, hating herself, strangely weak.\n\nHe turned away from her, looking back out the window. \"Be certain that I do not see your face. Ever again, Cadsuane. You may go now.\"\n\nDazed, she turned-and from the corner of her eye, she saw a deep darkness emanating from al'Thor, warping the air even further. When she glanced back, it was gone. With gritted teeth, she left.\n\n\"Prepare yourselves and your armies,\" al'Thor said to those who remained, voice echoing in the room behind. \"I intend to begone by week's end.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Cadsuane raised a hand to her head and leaned against the hallway wall outside, heart thumping, hand sweating. Before, she had been working against a stubborn but good-hearted boy. Someone had taken that child and replaced him with this man, a man more dangerous than any she had ever met. Day by day, he was slipping away from them.\n\nAnd at the moment, she hadn't a blasted clue what to do about it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Exhausted from days of hard travel, Gawyn sat atop Challenge on a low hill southwest of Tar Valon.\n\nThis countryside should have been green with spring's arrival, but the hillside before him bore only scraggly dead weeds, slain by the winter snows. Tufts of yew and blackwood poked up here and there, breaking the brown landscape. He counted more than a few stands that were now populated only by stumps. A war camp devoured trees like hungry woodgnarls, using them for arrows, fires, buildings and siege equipment.\n\nGawyn yawned-he'd pushed hard through the night. Bryne's war camp was well dug inhere, and was a bustle of motion and activity. An army this large spawned organized chaos at best. A small band of mounted cavalry could travel light, as Gawyn's Younglings had; a force like that could grow to several thousand and remain lean. Expert horsemen, like the Saldaeans, were said to manage larger bands of seven or eight thousand while keeping their mobility.\n\nBut a force like the one below was a different beast entirely. It was an enormous, sprawling thing, in the shape of an enormous bubble with a smaller camp at its center; that probably held the Aes Sedai. Bryne also had forces occupying all of the bridge towns on both sides of the River Erinin, effectively cutting off the island from ground supply.\n\nThe army squatted near Tar Valon like a spider eyeing a butterfly hovering just outside of its web. Lines of troops rode in and out patrolling, purchasing food, running messages. Dozens upon dozens of squads, some mounted, others walking. Like bees leaving the hive while others swarmed back in. The eastern side of the main camp was crowded with a mishmash of shanties and tents, the normal riffraff of camp followers that collected around an army. Nearby, just inside the main war-camp boundary, a wooden palisade-perhaps fifty yards across-rose in a tall ring. Probably a command post." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gawyn knew he had been seen by Bryne's scouts as he approached, yet none had stopped him. They probably wouldn't unless he tried to ride away. A single man-wearing a decent gray cloak and trousers, with a lacing shirt of white-wasn't of much interest. He could be a sell-sword, coming to ask fora place in the ranks. He could be a messenger from a local lord, sent to complain about a group of scouts. He could even be a member of the army. While many of those in Bryne's force wore uniforms, many others just wore a simple yellow band on their coatsleeves, not yet able to pay for proper insignia to be sewn on.\n\nNo, a single man approaching the army was not a danger. A single man riding away from it, however, was cause for alarm. A man coming to the camp could befriend, foe or neither. A man who inspected the camp then rode away was almost certainly a spy. So long as Gawyn didn't leave before making his intentions known, Bryne's outriders would be unlikely to bother him.\n\nLight, but he could use abed. He'd spent a restless two nights, sleeping only a couple of hours during each one, wrapped in his cloak. He felt irritable and cranky, partially just at himself for refusing to go to an inn, lest he be chased by the Younglings. He blinked bleary eyes, and spurred Challenge down the incline. He was committed now.\n\nNo. He'd been committed the moment he'd left Sleete behind in Dorlan. By now, the Younglings knew of their leader's betrayal. Sleete wouldn't allow them to waste time searching. He'd tell them what he knew. Gawyn wished he could convince himself that they'd be surprised, but he'd received more than one frown or look of confusion regarding the way he spoke of Elaida and the Aes Sedai." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The White Tower didn't deserve his allegiance, but the Younglings-he could never go back to them, now." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It itched at him; this was the first time his wavering had been revealed to a large group. Nobody knew that he'd helped Siuan escape, nor was it widespread knowledge that he'd dallied with Egwene.\n\nYet leaving had been the right thing to do. For the first time in months, his actions matched his heart. Saving Egwene. That was something he could believe in.\n\nHe approached the outskirts of camp, keeping his face impassive. He hated the idea of working with the rebel Aes Sedai almost as much as he had hated abandoning his men. These rebels were no better than Elaida. They were the ones who had propped Egwene up as an Amyrlin, as a target. Egwene! A mere Accepted. A pawn. If they failed in their bid for the Tower, they themselves might be able to escape punishment. Egwene would be executed.\n\nI'll get in, Gawyn thought. I'll save her somehow. Then I'll talk some sense into her and bring her away from all of the Aes Sedai. Perhaps even talk sense into Bryne. We can all get back to Andor, to help Elayne.\n\nHe rode forward with renewed determination, banishing some of his exhaustion. To reach the command post, he had to ride through the camp followers, who outnumbered the actual troops. Cooks to fix the food. Women to serve the food and wash the soiled dishes. Wagon drivers to carry the food. Wheelwrights to fix the wagons that carried the food. Blacksmiths to make horseshoes for the horses that pulled the wagons that carried the food. Merchants to buy the food, and quartermasters to organize it. Less reputable merchants who sought to profit off of the soldiers and their battle pay, and women who sought to do the same. Boys to run messages, hoping to someday carry a sword themselves." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was a complete mess. A half-shanty conglomeration of tents and shacks, each of a different hue, design and state of disrepair. Even a capable general like Bryne could impose only so much order on camp followers. His men would keep the peace, more or less, but they couldn't force followers to keep military discipline.\n\nGawyn passed through the middle of it all, ignoring those who called to him offering to shine his sword or sell him a sweetbun. The prices would below-this was a place that fed off of soldiers-but with his warhorse and finer clothing, he'd be marked as an officer. If he bought from one, the others would smell coin, and he could end up surrounded by all who hoped to sell to him.\n\nHe ignored the calls, eyes forward, toward the army itself ahead. Its tents were generally organized in neat rows, grouped by squad and banner, though sometimes in smaller clusters. Gawyn could have guessed the layout without seeing it. Bryne liked organization, but also believed strongly in delegation. Bryne would allow officers to run their camps as they wished, and that led to a setup that was less uniform, yet was far better at running itself.\n\nHe headed directly for the palisade. The camp followers around him weren't easy to ignore, however. Their calls to him lingered in the air, together with the scents of cooking, privies, horses and cheap perfume. The camp wasn't as crowded as a city, but it also wasn't as well maintained. Sweat mixed with burning cook fires mixed with stagnant water mixed with unwashed bodies. It made him want to hold a handkerchief to his face, though he refrained. It would make him look like a spoiled noble, turning his nose up at the common people.\n\nThe stink, the confusion and the yells didn't help his mood any. He had to grit his teeth to keep himself from cursing at each hawker. A figure stumbled onto the pathway in front of him-he reined in. The woman wore a brown skirt and a white blouse, her hands grimy. \"Out of the way,\" Gawyn snapped. His mother would have been outraged to hear him speaking with such anger. Well, his mother was dead now, by al'Thor's hand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The woman in front of him looked up and ran back out of the pathway." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She had light hair tied in a yellow kerchief and a faintly plump body. Gawyn caught just a glimpse of her face as she turned.\n\nGawyn froze. That was an Aes Sedai face! It was unmistakable. He sat, shocked, as the woman pulled her kerchief down and hurried away.\n\n\"Wait!\" he called, turning his horse. But the woman did not stop. He hesitated, lowering his arm as he saw the woman join a line of washwomen working between several wooden troughs a short distance away. If she was pretending to be a common woman, then she likely had her own blasted Aes Sedai reasons, and she wouldn't appreciate him exposing her. Very well. Gawyn forced down his annoyance. Egwene. He had to focus on Egwene.\n\nWhen he reached the command palisade, the air improved measurably. A quartet of soldiers stood on guard, halberds held at their sides, steel caps gleaming and matched by breastplates emblazoned with Bryne's three stars. A banner bearing the flame of Tar Valon flapped beside the gateway.\n\n\"Recruit?\" asked one of the soldiers as Gawyn rode up. The heavyset man bore a red stripe on his left shoulder, marking him as a watch sergeant. He carried a sword instead of a halberd. His breastplate barely fit his girth, and his chin bristled with red hairs. \"You'll have to meet with Captain Aldan,\" the man said with a grunt. \"Big blue tent about a quarter of the way around the outside of the camp. You've got your own horse and sword; that'll get you good pay.\" The man pointed toward a distant point in the main body of the army, outside the palisade. That wouldn't do. He could see Bryne's banner flying inside." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I'm not a recruit,\" Gawyn said, turning Challenge to get a better look at the men." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My name is Gawyn Trakand. I need to speak with Gareth Bryne immediately about a matter of some urgency.\"\n\nThe soldier raised an eyebrow. Then he chuckled to himself.\n\n\"You don't believe me,\" Gawyn said flatly.\n\n\"You should go speak to Captain Aldan,\" the man said lazily, pointing toward the distant tent again.\n\nGawyn took a calming breath, trying to force down his irritation. \"If you'd just send for Bryne, you'd find that-\"\n\n\"Are you going to be trouble?\" the soldier asked, puffing himself up. The other men readied their halberds.\n\n\"No trouble,\" Gawyn said evenly. \"I just need-\"\n\n\"If you're going to be in our camp,\" the soldier interrupted, stepping forward, \"you're going to have to learn how to do what you're told.\"\n\nGawyn met the man's eyes. \"Very well. We can do it this way. It will probably be faster anyway.\"\n\nThe sergeant laid a hand on his sword.\n\nGawyn kicked his feet free of the stirrups and pushed himself out of the saddle. It would be too hard to keep from killing the man from horseback. He slid his blade free as his feet hit the muddy ground, the sheath rasping like an inhaled breath. Gawyn fell into Oak Shakes Its Branches, a form that wielded nonlethal blows, often used by masters for training their students. It was also very effective against a large group all using different weapons.\n\nBefore the sergeant had his sword free, Gawyn slammed into him, ramming an elbow into his gut just beneath the poorly fitting breastplate. The man grunted and bent, then Gawyn knocked him on the side of the head with the hilt of his sword-the man should have known better than to wear his cap askew like that. Then Gawyn fell into Parting the Silk to deal with the first halberdier. As another of the men screamed for help, Gawyn's blade slashed across the first halberdier's breastplate with a ringing sound, forcing the man back. Gawyn finished by sweeping the man's feet from under him, then fell into Twisting the Wind to block a pair of blows from the other two men." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was unfortunate, but he had to resort to striking the thighs of the two standing halberdiers. He'd have preferred to avoid wounding them, but fights-even one such as this, against far less skilled opponents-became unpredictable the longer they lasted. One had to control the battlefield quickly and soundly, and that meant dropping the two soldiers-clutching their bleeding thighs. The sergeant was out cold from the rap to the head, but the first halberdier was rising shakily. Gawyn kicked the man's halberd aside, then planted a boot in his face, knocking him back and bloodying his nose.\n\nChallenge whinnied from behind, snorting and stamping the ground. The warhorse sensed a fight, but was well trained. He knew that when his reins were dropped, he was to remain still. Gawyn wiped his blade on his trouser leg, then slid it back into its sheath, the wounded soldiers groaning on the ground. He patted Challenge on the nose and took up the reins again. Behind Gawyn, nearby camp followers backed away, then ran. A group of soldiers from inside the palisade approached with bows drawn. That was not good. Gawyn turned to face them, pulling his still-sheathed sword free from his belt and tossing it to the ground in front of the men.\n\n\"I am unarmed,\" he said over the sounds of the wounded. \"And none of these four will die this day. Go and tell your general that alone blademaster just felled a squad of his guards in under ten heartbeats. I'm an old student of his. He'll want to see me.\"\n\nOne of the men scrambled forward to take Gawyn's fallen sword while another signaled to a runner. The others kept their bows raised. One of the fallen halberdiers began to crawl away. Gawyn turned Challenge at an angle, making ready to duck behind the horse if the soldiers moved to draw. He'd much prefer it not come to that, but of the two of them, Challenge was far more likely to survive a few shortbow shafts than Gawyn." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Several of the soldiers risked coming forward to help their fallen friends. The heavyset watch sergeant was stirring, and he sat up, cursing under his breath. Gawyn made no threatening motions.\n\nPerhaps it had been a mistake to fight the men, but he had already wasted too much time. Egwene could be dead by now! When a manlike that sergeant tried to assert his authority, you really only had two options. You could talk your way up through the ranks of the bureaucracy, convincing each soldier each step of the way that you were important. Or you could make a disturbance. The second was faster, and the camp obviously had enough Aes Sedai support to Heal a few injured soldiers.\n\nEventually, a small group of men strode out from inside the palisade. Their uniforms were sharp, their postures dangerous, their faces worn. At their head came a square-faced man with graying temples and a strong, stocky build. Gawyn smiled. Bryne himself. The gamble had worked.\n\nThe Captain-General surveyed Gawyn, then moved onto a quick inspection of his fallen soldiers. At last, he shook his head. \"Stand down,\" he said to his men. \"Sergeant Cords.\"\n\nThe stocky sergeant stood up. \"Sir!\"\n\nBryne glanced back at Gawyn. \"Next time a man comes to the gate claiming to be nobility and asking for me, send for an officer. Immediately. I don't care if the man has two months of scruffy beard and reeks of cheap ale. Understood?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" the sergeant said, blushing. \"Understood, sir.\"\n\n\"See your men to the infirmary, Sergeant,\" Bryne said, still looking at Gawyn. \"You, come with me.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gawyn clenched his jaw. He hadn't received such an address from Gareth Bryne since before he'd started shaving. Still, he couldn't really expect the man to be pleased. Just inside the palisade, Gawyn spotted a young boy who was likely a stablehand or messenger boy. He handed Challenge to the wide-eyed youth, instructing him to seethe horse cared for. Then Gawyn retrieved his sword from the man holding it and hurried after Bryne.\n\n\"Gareth,\" Gawyn said, catching up, \"I-\"\n\n\"Hold your tongue, young man,\" Bryne said, not turning toward him. \"I haven't decided what I'm going to do with you.\"\n\nGawyn snapped his mouth closed. That was uncalled for! Gawyn was still brother to the rightful Queen of Andor, and would be First Prince of the Sword should Elayne take and hold the throne! Bryne should show him respect.\n\nBut Bryne could be stubborn as a boar. Gawyn held his tongue. They reached a tall, peaked tent with two guards at the front. Bryne ducked inside and Gawyn followed. The inside was neat and clean, more so than Gawyn had expected. The desk was stacked with rolled maps and orderly sheets of paper, and the pallets in the corner were rolled carefully, blankets folded with sharp angles. Bryne was obviously relying on someone meticulous to tidy up for him.\n\nBryne clasped his hands behind his back, breastplate reflecting Gawyn's face as he turned around. \"All right. Explain what you're doing here.\"\n\nGawyn drew himself up. \"General,\" he said, \"I think you mistake yourself. I'm no longer your student.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I know,\" Bryne said curtly. \"The boy I trained would never have pulled a childish stunt like that one to get my attention.\"\n\n\"The watch sergeant was belligerent, and I had no patience for the posturing of a fool. This seemed the best way.\"\n\n\"The best way to what?\" Bryne asked. \"Outrage me?\"\n\n\"Look,\" Gawyn said, \"perhaps I was hasty, but I have an important task. You need to listen tome.\"\n\n\"And if I don't?\" Bryne asked. \"If I instead throw you out of my camp for being a spoiled princeling with too much pride and not enough sense?\"\n\nGawyn frowned. \"Be careful, Gareth. I've learned a great deal since we last met. I think you'll find that your sword can no longer best mine as easily as it once did.\"\n\n\"I have no doubt of that,\" Bryne said. \"Light, boy! You always were a talented one. But you think that just because you're skilled with the sword, your words hold more weight? I should listen because you'll kill me if I don't? I thought I taught you far better than that.\"\n\nBryne had aged since Gawyn had last seen him. But that age didn't bow Bryne down-it rested comfortably on his shoulders. A few more traces of white at his temples, a few more wrinkles around the eyes, yet strong and lean enough of body that he looked years younger than he was. One couldn't look at Gareth Bryne and see anything other than a man in-certainly not past-his prime.\n\nGawyn locked eyes with the general, trying to keep the anger from boiling out. Bryne held his gaze, calm. Solid. As a general should be. As Gawyn should be." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gawyn looked away, suddenly feeling ashamed of himself. \"Light,\" he whispered, releasing his sword and raising a hand to his head. He suddenly felt very, very tired. \"I'm sorry, Gareth. You're right. I've been a fool.\"\n\nBryne grunted. \"Good to hear you say that. I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you.\"\n\nGawyn sighed, wiping his brow, wishing for something cool to drink. His anger melted away, and he felt exhausted. \"It has been a difficult year,\" he said, \"and I rode myself too hard getting here. I'm at the edge of my mind.\"\n\n\"You aren't the only one, lad,\" Bryne said. He took a deep breath and walked to a small serving table, poured a cup of something for Gawyn. It was only warm tea, but Gawyn took it thankfully and sipped.\n\n\"These are times to test men,\" Bryne said, pouring himself a cup. He took a sip and grimaced.\n\n\"What?\" Gawyn asked, glancing down at his cup.\n\n\"It's nothing. I despise this stuff.\"\n\n\"Then why drink it?\" Gawyn asked.\n\n\"It's supposed to improve my health,\" Bryne grumbled. Before Gawyn could ask further, the large general continued, \"So are you going to make me throw you in the stocks before you'll tell me why you decided to fight your way into my command post?\"\n\nGawyn stepped forward. \"Gareth. It's Egwene. They have her.\"\n\n\"The White Tower Aes Sedai?\"\n\nGawyn nodded urgently.\n\n\"I know.\" Bryne took another drink, then grimaced again." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Helping the author, keep the tale going.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, last battle\nAuthor: Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson\nTitle: The Gathering Storm\nChapter: 44" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You may take the plans, Mat,\" Aludra said. \"So long as you keep them in that trunk with your gold. That is one object in this camp that will receive the greatest attention from you.\"\n\n\"Thank you kindly,\" he said, stooping to gather up the pages, ignoring the veiled insult. Hadn't they just made up? Bloody woman. \"By the way, I nearly forgot. Do you know anything about crossbows, Aludra?\"\n\n\"Crossbows?\" she asked.\n\n\"Yes,\" Mat said, stacking the papers. \"I figure there should be away to make them load faster. You know, like those new cranks, only maybe with some kind of spring or something. Maybe a crank you could twist without having to lower the weapon first.\"\n\n\"This is hardly my area of expertise, Mat,\" Aludra said.\n\n\"I know. But you're smart about things like this, and maybe....\"\n\n\"You will have to find someone else,\" Aludra said, turning to pickup another half-finished nightflower. \"I am far too busy.\"\n\nMat reached up under his hat, scratching his head. \"That-\"\n\n\"Mat!\" a voice called. \"Mat, you've got to come with me!\" Mat turned as Olver ran into Aludra's camp. Bayle held out a warning hand, but of course Olver just ran right beneath it.\n\nMat straightened up. \"What?\" he asked.\n\n\"Someone's come to the camp,\" Olver said, excitement painting his features. And those features were a sight. Ears that were too big for his head, nose that was squashed down, mouth that was too wide. On a child his age, the ugliness was endearing. He'd have no such luck when he grew older. Maybe the men in camp were right to be teaching him weapons. With a face like that, he'd better know how to defend himself." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Wait, slowdown,\" Mat said, tucking Aludra's plans into his belt. \"Someone's come? Who? Why do you need me?\"\n\n\"Talmanes sent me to fetch you,\" Olver said. \"He thinks she's someone important. Said to tell you she's got some pages with your picture on them, and that she's got a'distinctive face, ' whatever that means. That....\"\n\nOlver continued, but Mat had stopped listening. He nodded to Aludra and the others, then trotted out of her camp, past the sheets and out into the woods proper. Olver tagged along behind as Mat hurried to the front of the camp.\n\nThere, sitting on a short-legged white mare, was a pudgy woman with a grandmotherly air, a brown dress, and streaks of gray in her hair, which was pulled back in a bun. She was surrounded by a group of soldiers, Talmanes and Mandevwin standing directly in front of her, like two stone pillars barring entrance to a harbor.\n\nThe woman had an Aes Sedai face, and an aging Warder stood beside her horse. Though he had graying hair, the stocky man exuded that sense of danger that all Warders had. He studied the Band's soldiers with unyielding eyes, arms folded.\n\nThe Aes Sedai smiled at Mat as he trotted up. \"Ah, very nice,\" she said primly. \"You've grown prompt since we last parted, Matrim Cauthon.\"\n\n\"Verin,\" Mat said, panting slightly from the run. He glanced at Talmanes who held up a sheet of paper, one of those imprinted with Mat's face. \"You've discovered that someone's been distributing pictures of me in Trustair?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She laughed. \"You could say that.\"\n\nHe looked at her, meeting those dark brown Aes Sedai eyes. \"Blood and bloody ashes,\" he muttered. \"It was you, wasn't it? You're the one who's been looking for me!\"\n\n\"For sometime, I might add,\" Verin said lightly. \"And rather against my will.\"\n\nMat closed his eyes. So much for his intricate plan for the raid. Burn it! And it was a good plan, too. \"How'd you find I was here?\" he asked, opening his eyes.\n\n\"A kind merchant came tome in Trustair an hour ago and explained that he'd just had a nice meeting with you, and that you'd paid him handsomely fora sketch of Trustair. I figured that I'd spare the poor town an assault by your... associates and just come to you myself.\"\n\n\"An hour ago?\" Mat said, frowning. \"But Trustair is still half a day's march away!\"\n\n\"Indeed it is.\" Verin smiled.\n\n\"Burn me,\" he said. \"You've got Traveling, don't you?\"\n\nHer smile deepened. \"I surmise that you're trying to get to Andor with this army, Master Cauthon.\"\n\n\"That depends,\" Mat said. \"Can you take us there?\"\n\n\"Ina very short time,\" Verin said. \"I could have your men in Caemlyn by evening.\"\n\nLight! Twenty days shaved off his march? Maybe he could get Aludra's dragons into production soon! He hesitated, eyeing Verin, forcing himself to contain his excitement. There was always a cost when Aes Sedai were involved.\n\n\"What do you want?\" he asked." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Frankly,\" she replied, sighing slightly. \"What I want, Matrim Cauthon, is to be cut free from your ta'veren web! Do you know how long you've forced me to wait in these mountains?\"\n\n\"Forced?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said. \"Come, we have much to discuss.\" She flicked her reins, moving her horse into camp, and Talmanes and Mandevwin reluctantly stepped aside, letting her in. Mat joined the two of them, watching as she made straight for the cook fires.\n\n\"I guess there won't be a raid,\" Talmanes said. He didn't sound sad.\n\nMandevwin fingered his eye patch. \"Does this mean I can go back to my poor aged aunt?\"\n\n\"You have no poor aged aunt,\" Mat growled. \"Come on, let's hear what the woman has to say.\"\n\n\"Fine,\" Mandevwin said. \"But next time, I get to be the Warder, all right, Mat?\"\n\nMat just sighed, hurrying after Verin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The cool sea breeze washed across Rand the moment he rode through the gateway. That soft, featherlike wind carried with it the scents of a thousand cook fires scattered through the city of Falme, heating morning stews.\n\nRand reined in Tai'daishar, unprepared for the memories those scents would carry with them. Memories of a time when he'd still been uncertain about his role in the world. Memories of a time when Mat had constantly ribbed him for wearing fine coats, despite the fact that Rand tried to avoid them. Memories of a time when he had been ashamed of the banners that now flapped behind him. He had once insisted on keeping them hidden, as if in doing so he could hide from his own fate.\n\nThe procession waited for him, buckles creaking, horses snorting. Rand had visited Falme once, briefly. Back in those days, he hadn't been able to stay anywhere for long. He'd spent those months either chasing or being chased. Fain had led him to Falme, bearing the Horn of Valere and the ruby dagger to which Mat had been bound. The colors flashed again, as he thought of Mat, but Rand ignored them. For these few moments, he wasn't in the present.\n\nFalme marked a turning point in Rand's life as profound as the one that had later occurred in the barren lands of the Aiel, when he had proven himself to be the Car'a\"carn. After Falme, there had been no more hiding, no more fighting what he was. This was the place where he'd first acknowledged himself as a killer, the place where he'd first realized what a danger he was to those around him. He'd tried to leave them all behind. They'd come after him.\n\nAt Falme, the shepherd boy had burned, his ashes scattered and blown away by those ocean winds. From those ashes, the Dragon Reborn had risen." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand kneed Tai'daishar forward, and the procession began again. He had ordered the gateway opened a short ride from the city, hopefully out of eyesight of damane. Of course he had Asha'man creating it-thereby hiding the weaves from women-but he didn't want to give them any clues about Traveling. The Seanchan inability to Travel was one of his greatest advantages.\n\nFalme itself stood on a small spit of land-Toman Head-jutting out into the Aryth Ocean. High cliffs along both sides broke the waves, creating a soft, distant roar. The city's dark stone buildings covered the peninsula like rocks on the bed of a river. Most were squat, one-story buildings-built wide, as if the inhabitants expected the waves to wash up over the cliffs and crash against their homes. The grasslands here didn't show as much withering as the land did to the north, but the new spring grass was starting to look yellow and wan, as if the blades regretted poking their heads out of the soil.\n\nThe peninsula sloped down to a natural harbor, and numerous Seanchan ships lay at anchor there. Seanchan flags flew, proclaiming this city apart of their empire; the banner that fluttered highest above the city displayed a golden hawk in flight, clutching three bolts of lightning. It was fringed with blue.\n\nThe strange creatures the Seanchan had brought from their side of the ocean moved through distant streets, too far off for Rand to make out details. Raken flew in the sky; the Seanchan apparently had a large stable of them here. Toman Head was just south of Arad Doman, and this city was no doubt a major staging area for the Seanchan campaign to the north.\n\nThat conquest would end today. Rand had to make peace, had to convince the Daughter of the Nine Moons to call off her armies. That peace would be the calm before a storm. He wouldn't be protecting his people from war; just preserving them so that they could die for him elsewhere. But he would do what had to be done." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Nynaeve rode up beside him as they continued toward Falme." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her neat dress of blue and white was cut after the Domani fashion, but made of a much thicker-and far more modest-material. She seemed to be adopting fashions from around the world, wearing dresses from the cities she visited, but imposing her own sense of what was proper upon them. Once, perhaps, Rand would have found this amusing. That emotion no longer seemed possible for him. He could only feel the cold stillness inside, the stillness that capped a fountain of frozen rage.\n\nHe would keep the rage and stillness balanced long enough. He had to.\n\n\"And so we return,\" Nynaeve said. Her multicolor ter'angreal jewelry somewhat spoiled the look of her neatly tailored dress.\n\n\"Yes,\" Rand said.\n\n\"I remember the last time we were here,\" she said idly. \"Such chaos, such madness. And at the end of it all, we found you with that wound in your side.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Rand whispered. He had earned that first of his unhealable wounds here, fighting Ishamael in the skies above the city. The wound grew warm as he thought of it. Warm, and painful. He had started regarding that pain as an old friend, a reminder that he was alive.\n\n\"I saw you up in the air,\" Nynaeve said. \"I didn't believe it. I... tried to Heal that wound, but I was still blocked then, and couldn't summon the anger. Min wouldn't leave your side.\"\n\nMin hadn't come with him this day. She remained close to him, but something had changed between them. Just as he had always feared that it would. When she looked at him, he knew she saw him killing her.\n\nJust a few weeks before, he wouldn't have been able to keep her from accompanying him, no matter what. Now she remained behind without a single protest." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Coldness. It would be over soon. No room for regret or sorrow.\n\nThe Aiel ran ahead to check for an ambush. Many of them wore the red headbands. Rand wasn't worried about an ambush. The Seanchan would not betray him, not unless there was another Forsaken in their midst.\n\nRand reached down, touching the sword he wore at his waist. It was the curved one, with the scabbard of black, painted with the twisting dragon, red and gold. For more reasons than one, it made him think of the last time he had been in Falme.\n\n\"I killed a man with a sword for the first time in this city,\" Rand said softly. \"I've never spoken of it. He was a Seanchan lord, a blademaster. Verin had told me not to channel in the city, so I faced him with the sword only. I beat him. Killed him.\"\n\nNynaeve raised an eyebrow. \"So you do have aright to carry a heron-mark blade.\"\n\nRand shook his head. \"There were no witnesses. Mat and Hurin were fighting elsewhere. They saw me right after the fight, but did not witness the killing blow.\"\n\n\"What do witnesses matter?\" she scoffed. \"You defeated a blademaster, so you are one. Whether or not it was seen by others is immaterial.\"\n\nHe looked at her. \"Why carry the heron mark if not to be seen by others, Nynaeve?\"\n\nShe didn't respond. Ahead, just outside of the city, the Seanchan had erected a striped pavilion of black and white. There appeared to be hundreds of sul'dam and damane pairs surrounding the open-sided tent, damane wearing the distinctive gray dress, sul'dam wearing their dresses of red and blue with the lightning bolt on the breast. Rand had brought only a few channelers: Nynaeve, three Wise Ones, Corele, Narishma, Flinn. A fraction of what he could access, even without turning to his forces stationed in the east." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But no, it was better to bring only a token guard, to look as though he came in peace. If this meeting turned into a battle, Rand's only hope would be a quick escape via gateway. Either that... or do something to end the fight himself.\n\nThe figurine of the man holding aloft the sphere hung from the saddle before him. With it, he might be able to stand against a hundred damane. Two hundred. He could remember the Power he'd held when cleansing saidin. It had been the Power to level cities, to destroy any who stood against him.\n\nNo. It wouldn't turn to that. He couldn't afford to let it turn to that. Surely the Seanchan knew that attacking him would lead to disaster. Rand had come to meet with them again, aware that a traitor in their ranks had tried to capture or kill him. They would have to see his sincerity.\n\nBut if they didn't.... He reached down and grasped the access key, just in case, and slipped it into his oversized outer coat pocket. Then, taking a deep breath, he steadied himself and sought the void. There, he seized the One Power.\n\nNausea and dizziness threatened to toss him to the ground. He wobbled, legs gripping Tai'daishar, hand clutching the access key in its pocket. He gritted his teeth. In the back of his mind, Lews Therin roused. The madman scrambled for the One Power. It was a desperate fight, and when Rand finally won, he found that he'd slumped in his saddle.\n\nAnd he was muttering to himself again.\n\n\"Rand?\" Nynaeve asked.\n\nRand straightened his back. He was Rand, wasn't he? Sometimes, after a battle like this, he had trouble recalling who he was. Had he finally pushed Rand, the intruder, into seclusion and become Lews Therin? The previous day, he had woken at midday, huddled in the corner of his rooms, crying and whispering to himself about Ilyena. He could feel the soft texture of her long golden hair in his hands, and could remember holding her close. He could remember seeing her dead at his feet, slain by the One Power." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Who was he?\n\nDid it really matter?\n\n\"Are you all right?\" Nynaeve asked again.\n\n\"We are fine.\" Rand did not realize he'd used the plural until the words were out of his mouth. His vision was recovering, though it still seemed just a little bit fuzzy. Everything was distorted a fraction, as it had been since the battle where Semirhage had taken his hand. He barely noticed it anymore.\n\nHe straightened, then drew a little extra power through the access key, filling himself with saidin. It was so sweet, despite the nausea that it caused. He longed to take in more, but held himself back. He already held more of the Power than any man could unaided. It would be enough.\n\nNynaeve glanced at the figurine at his side. The globe at the top glowed faintly. \"Rand....\"\n\n\"I'm only holding a little extra, as a precaution.\" The more of the One Power a person held, the more difficult it was to shield them. If the damane tried to capture him, they would be shocked by his resilience. He might be able to resist a full circle.\n\n\"I will not be captured again,\" he whispered. \"Never again. They will not take me by surprise.\"\n\n\"Maybe we should turn back,\" Nynaeve said. \"Rand, we don't have to meet them on their terms. It-\"\n\n\"We stay,\" Rand said softly. \"We deal with them here and now.\" Ahead, he could see a figure sitting in the pavilion at a table on a dais. There was a chair across from the figure, on an equal level. That surprised him; from what he knew of the Seanchan, he had expected to have to argue for equal footing with one of the Blood." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Was this the Daughter of the Nine Moons? This child? Rand frowned as they approached, but realized that she wasn't actually a child, just a very small woman. Dressed in black clothing, she had dark skin, like one of the Sea Folk. There were gray-white ashes on the cheeks of her calm, round face. Upon close inspection, she appeared to be near his own age.\n\nRand took a deep breath and dismounted. It was time for the war to end.\n\nThe Dragon Reborn was a young man. Tuon had been told that, but something about it still surprised her.\n\nWhy should she be surprised by this youth? Conquering heroes were often young. Artur Hawkwing himself, the Empire's great progenitor, had been a young man when he'd begun his conquest.\n\nThose who conquered, those who dominated the world, burned themselves out quickly, like lamps with untrimmed wicks. He wore gold and red on black, the buttons on his coat sparkling as he dismounted from his large black gelding and approached the pavilion. The black coat had red and gold embroidery on the cuffs-the missing hand was quite obvious, looking at those cuffs-but his clothing was otherwise unadorned. As if he saw no need to distract from his face with finery.\n\nHis hair was the color of a deep sunset, a dark red. He had a regal bearing to him-astride that was firm, each step confident, eyes straight ahead. Tuon had been trained to walk that way, to give no quarter, in the way she stepped. Who had trained him, she wondered. Likely, he had the finest of teachers to prepare him in the ways of kings and leaders. Yet reports said he had grownup as a farmer in a rural village. A story, carefully spread to bring him credibility with the common people, perhaps?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He strode up to the pavilion, a marath'damane on his left. The woman wore a dress colored like the sky on a clear day, set with trim like clouds. She wore her hair in a single dark braid and adorned herself with a set of gaudy jewelry. She seemed displeased by something, her brow furrowed, her mouth a tight line. Her presence made Tuon shiver. One would think she'd have grown more accustomed to marath'damane, after traveling with Matrim. But not so. They were unnatural. Dangerous. Tuon could no more grow comfortable around an unleashed damane than she could tolerate having a grassfang twisted around her ankle, its tongue tickling her skin.\n\nOf course, if the marath'damane was unsettling, then the two men who walked to the right of the Dragon were more so. One, little more than a youth, wore his hair in braids tied with bells. The other was an older man with white hair and a tanned face. Despite the difference in their ages, both walked with the casual swagger of men well acquainted with battle. And both wore black coats, sparkling pins on the high collars. Asha'man, they were called. Men who could channel. Abominations best killed quickly. In Seanchan, there had been a very few who-in their lust for an unanticipated edge-had tried to train these Tsorov'ande Doon, these Black-Souled Tempests. The fools had fallen quickly, often destroyed by the very tools that they sought to control.\n\nTuon steeled herself. Karede and the Deathwatch Guards around her grew tense. It was subtle-fists tightening at their sides, breaths inhaled and released slowly. Tuon didn't turn toward them, though she made a covert gesture to Selucia." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You are to maintain your calm,\" the Voice said softly to the men.\n\nThey would do so-they were Deathwatch Guard. Tuon hated to make the comment, as it would lower their eyes. But she would not have a mishap. Meeting with the Dragon Reborn would be dangerous. There was no avoiding that. Even with twenty damane and sul'dam on each side of the pavilion. Even with Karede at her back and Captain Musenge and a force of archers watching from a covered rooftop just within bowshot. Even with Selucia at her right, tense and ready to pounce, like a jagwin on the high rocks. Even with all of that, Tuon was exposed. The Dragon Reborn was a bonfire inexplicably lit inside a house. You could not prevent it from damaging the room. You just hoped to save the building.\n\nHe walked directly to the chair opposite Tuon and sat down, never once questioning that she had set him as her equal. She knew that the others wondered why she still wore the ashes of mourning, why she hadn't proclaimed herself Empress. The mourning period was over, but Tuon had not taken her throne.\n\nIt was because of this man. The Empress could not meet anyone, not even the Dragon Reborn, as an equal. The Daughter of the Nine Moons, however... this one man could be her equal. And so she had hesitated. The Dragon Reborn would not likely respond well to another setting herself above him, no matter if that other had a perfectly legitimate reason for doing so.\n\nAshe sat down, a distant flare of lightning arced between two clouds, though Malai-one of the damane who could tell fortunes of the weather-had insisted that no rain was near. Lightning on a day without rain. Tread very lightly, she thought, reading the omen, and be careful what you speak. Not the most illuminating of omens. If she trod anymore carefully, she would have to take flight into the air!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You are the Daughter of the Nine Moons,\" the Dragon Reborn said. It was a statement, not a question.\n\n\"You are the Dragon Reborn,\" she replied. Looking into those slatelike eyes, she realized that she had been wrong in her first impression. He was not a young man. Yes, his body might be that of a youth. But those eyes... those were old eyes.\n\nHe leaned forward slightly. Her Deathwatch Guards tensed, leather creaking. \"We will make peace,\" al'Thor said. \"Today. Here.\"\n\nSelucia hissed softly. His words sounded a great deal like a demand. Tuon had shown him great respect by placing him at her level, but one did not give orders to the Imperial family.\n\nAl'Thor glanced at Selucia. \"You can tell your bodyguard that she can relax,\" he said dryly. \"This meeting will not turn to conflict. I will not allow it.\"\n\n\"She is my Voice,\" Tuon said carefully, \"and my Truthspeaker. My bodyguard is the man behind my chair.\"\n\nAl'Thor snorted softly. So he was an observant man. Ora lucky one. Few had correctly guessed Selucia's nature.\n\n\"You wish for peace,\" Tuon said. \"Have you terms for your... offer?\"\n\n\"It is not an offer, but a necessity,\" al'Thor said. He spoke with softness. All of these people spoke with such quick words, yet al'Thor's had a weight to them. He reminded her of her mother. \"The Last Battle comes. Surely your people remember the prophecies. By prosecuting this war of yours, you endanger us all. My forces-everyone's forces-are needed in the struggle against the Shadow.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Last Battle would be between the Empire and the forces of the Dark One. Everybody knew that. The prophecies clearly showed that the Empress would defeat those who served the Shadow, and then she would send the Dragon Reborn into duel with Lighteater.\n\nHow much had he fulfilled? He didn't seem blinded yet, so that had yet to happen. The Essanik Cycle said that he would stand on his own grave and weep. Or did that prophecy refer to the dead walking, as they did already? Certainly, some of those spirits had walked across their own graves. The writings were unclear, sometimes.\n\nThis people seemed to have forgotten many of the prophecies, just as they forgot their oaths to watch for the Return. But she did not say this. Watch your words carefully....\n\n\"You believe the Last Battle is close, then?\" she asked.\n\n\"Close?\" al'Thor asked. \"It is as close as an assassin, breathing his foul breath upon your neck as he slides his knife across your skin. It is close like the last chime of midnight, after the other eleven have struck. Close? Yes, it is close. Horribly close.\"\n\nHad the madness taken him already? If it had, that would make things much more difficult. She studied him, searching for signs of insanity. He seemed in control of himself.\n\nA sea breeze blew through the canopy, ruffling the canvas and carrying with it the scent of rotten fish. Many things seemed to be rotting these days.\n\nThose creatures, she thought. The Trollocs. What did their appearance foretell? Tylee had destroyed them, and the scouts had found no others. Looking at the intensity of this man, she hesitated. Yes, the Last Battle was close, perhaps as close as he said. That made it all the more important that she unify these lands beneath her banner." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You must see why this is so important,\" the Dragon Reborn said. \"Why do you fight me?\"\n\n\"We are the Return,\" Tuon said. \"The omens said it was time for us to come, and we expected to find a united kingdom, ready to praise us and lend us armies for the Last Battle. Instead, we found a fractured land that had forgotten its oaths and prepared for nothing. How can you not see that we must fight? It does not bring us pleasure to kill you, no more than it brings a parent joy to discipline a child who has gone astray.\"\n\nAl'Thor seemed incredulous. \"We are children to you?\"\n\n\"It was a metaphor only,\" Tuon said.\n\nHe sat fora moment, then rubbed his chin with his hand. Did he blame her for the loss of the other one? Falendre had spoken of it.\n\n\"A metaphor,\" he said. \"An apt one, perhaps. Yes, the land did lack unity. But I have forged it together. The solder is weak, perhaps, but it will hold long enough. If not for me, then your war of unification would be commendable. As it is, you area distraction. We must have peace. Our alliance need last only until my life ends.\" He met her eyes. \"I assure you that will not be overly long.\"\n\nShe sat at the wide table, arms folded before her. If al'Thor stretched out his arm, he would not be able to reach her. That was intentional, though the precaution was laughable, in hindsight. He would not need his hand should he decide to kill her. Best not to think of that.\n\n\"If you seethe value of unification,\" she said, \"then perhaps you should unite your lands beneath the Seanchan banner, have your people take the oaths and-\" The woman standing behind al'Thor, the marath'damane, opened eyes wide as Tuon spoke." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No,\" al'Thor said, interrupting Tuon.\n\n\"But surely you can see that one ruler, with-\"\n\n\"No,\" he said, softly, yet more firmly. More dangerous. \"I will not see another person chained by your foul leashes.\"\n\n\"Foul? They are the only way to deal with those who can channel!\"\n\n\"We have survived without them for centuries.\"\n\n\"And you have-\"\n\n\"This is not a point I will concede,\" al'Thor said.\n\nTuon's guards-Selucia included-gritted their teeth, and the guards dropped hands to sword hilts. He had interrupted her twice in a row. The Daughter of the Nine Moons. How could he be so bold?\n\nHe was the Dragon Reborn, that was how. But his words were foolishness. He would bow before her, once she was Empress. The prophecies demanded it. Surely that meant that his kingdoms would join with the Empire.\n\nShe had let the conversation slip out of her control. The marath'damane were a touchy subject to many on this side of the ocean. They likely understood the logic in leashing the women, but their traditions were difficult to relinquish. That was no doubt why they were so disturbed by talking about these things.\n\nShe needed to nudge the conversation in other directions. Into a realm that would throw the Dragon Reborn off guard. She studied him. \"Is this all our conversation is to be about?\" she said. \"We sit across from one another and speak only of our differences?\"\n\n\"What else would we talk about?\" al'Thor said.\n\n\"Perhaps something we have in common.\"\n\n\"I doubt there is much in that area that is relevant.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" Tuon said. \"And what of Matrim Cauthon?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yes, that shocked him. The Dragon Reborn blinked, mouth opening slightly. \"Mat?\" he said. \"You know Mat? How...\"\n\n\"He kidnapped me,\" Tuon said. \"And dragged me most of the way across Altara.\"\n\nThe Dragon Reborn gaped, then shut his mouth. \"I remember now,\" he said softly. \"I saw you. With him. I did not connect you to that face. Mat... what have you been doing?\"\n\nYou saw us? Tuon thought skeptically. So the madness had manifested itself. Would that make him easier to manipulate, or more difficult? Probably the latter, unfortunately.\n\n\"Well,\" al'Thor finally said, \"I trust that Mat had his reasons. He always does. And they seem so logical to him at the time....\"\n\nSo, Matrim did know the Dragon Reborn; he would bean excellent resource to her. Perhaps that was why he had been brought to her, so she would have a means of learning about the Dragon Reborn. She would have to recover him before he could help her in that area.\n\nMatrim would not like that, but he would have to see reason. He was First Prince of the Ravens. He needed to be raised to the High Blood, shave his head and learn the proper way of living. That all seemed a shame to her-for reasons she could not explain to herself.\n\nShe couldn't help asking after him a little more. Partly because the topic appeared to unbalance al'Thor, and partly because she was curious. \"What type of man is he, this Matrim Cauthon? I must admit, I found him to be something of an indolent scoundrel, too quick to find excuses to avoid oaths he'd taken.\"\n\n\"Don't speak of him that way!\" Surprisingly, the words came from the marath'damane standing beside al'Thor's chair." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Nynaeve...\" al'Thor began.\n\n\"Don't hush me, Rand al'Thor,\" the woman said, folding her arms. \"He's your friend too.\" The woman looked back at Tuon, meeting her eyes. Meeting them. A marath'damane!\n\nShe continued, \"Matrim Cauthon is one of the finest men you will ever know, Your Highness, and I won't listen to ill speech of him. What's right is right.\"\n\n\"Nynaeve is right,\" al'Thor said reluctantly. \"He is a good man. Mat may seem a little rough at times, but he is as solid a friend as one could hope for. Though he does grumble about what his conscience makes him do.\"\n\n\"He saved my life,\" the marath'damane said. \"Rescued meat great cost and personal danger when no other thought to come for me.\" Her eyes were afire with anger. \"Yes, he drinks and gambles far too much. But don't speak of him as if you know him, because you don't. His heart is golden, under it all. If you've hurt him....\"\n\n\"Hurt him?\" Tuon said. \"He kidnapped me!\"\n\n\"If he did so, then there was cause,\" Rand al'Thor said.\n\nSuch loyalty! Once again, she was forced to reassess her view of Matrim Cauthon.\n\n\"But this is irrelevant,\" al'Thor said, standing up suddenly. One of the Deathwatch Guards drew his sword. Al'Thor glared at the guard, and Karede quickly motioned at the man, who replaced his sword, ashamed, his eyes lowered.\n\nAl'Thor placed his hand on the table, palm down. He leaned forward, trapping Tuon's eyes with his own. Who could look away from those intense gray eyes, like steel? \"None of this matters. Mat doesn't matter. Our similarities and our differences do not matter. All that matters is need. And I need you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He leaned forward further, looming. His form didn't change, but he suddenly seemed a hundred feet tall. He spoke in that same calm, piercing voice, but there was a threat to it now. An edge.\n\n\"You must call off your attacks,\" he said, nearly a whisper. \"You must sign a treaty with me. These are not requests. They are my will.\"\n\nTuon found herself longing, suddenly, to obey him. To please him. A treaty. A treaty would be excellent, it would give her a chance to stabilize her hold on the lands here. She could plan how to restore order back in Seanchan. She could recruit and train. So many possibilities opened to her, as if her mind were suddenly determined to see every advantage of the alliance and none of the flaws.\n\nShe reached for those flaws, scrambling to seethe problems in uniting herself with this man. But they became liquid in her mind and slipped away. She couldn't snatch them up and form objections. The pavilion grew silent, the breeze falling still.\n\nWhat was happening to her? She felt short of breath, as though a weight constricted her chest. She felt as if she couldn't help but bend before the will of this man!\n\nHis expression was grim. Despite the afternoon light, his face was shadowed, far more so than everything else beneath the pavilion. He held her eyes still, and her breaths came quick and short. In the corners of her vision, she thought she saw something around him. A dark haze, a halo of blackness, emanating from him. It warped the air like a great heat. Her throat constricted, and words were forming. Yes. Yes. I will do as you ask. Yes. I must. I must.\n\n\"No,\" she said, the word barely a whisper." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His expression grew darker, and she saw fury in the way he pressed his hand down, fingers trembling with the force. The way he clenched his jaw. The way his eyes opened wider. Such intensity.\n\n\"I need-\" he began.\n\n\"No,\" she repeated, confidence growing. \"You will bow before me, Rand al'Thor. It will not happen the other way around.\" Such darkness! How could one man contain it? He seemed to throw a shadow the size of a mountain.\n\nShe could not ally with this creature. That seething hatred, it terrified her, and terror was an emotion with which she was unfamiliar. This man could not be allowed freedom to do as he wished. He had to be contained.\n\nHe watched her fora moment longer. \"Very well,\" he said. His voice was ice.\n\nHe spun, stalking away from the pavilion, not looking back. His entourage followed; they all, including the marath'damane with the braid, looked disturbed. As if they themselves weren't certain what-or who-they followed in this man.\n\nTuon watched him go, panting. She could not let the others see how rattled she was. They couldn't know that, in that last moment, she'd feared him. She watched until his mounted figure had passed beyond the hillsides. And still her hands shook. She did not trust herself to speak.\n\nNobody spoke in the time it took her to calm herself. Perhaps they were as shaken as she. Perhaps they sensed her worry. Finally, long after al'Thor had gone, Tuon stood. She turned and regarded the collected Blood, generals, soldiers and guards. \"I am the Empress,\" she said in a soft voice.\n\nAs one, they fell to their knees, even the High Blood prostrating themselves." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was the only ceremony needed. Oh, there would be a formal crowning back in Ebou Dar, with processions and parades and audiences. She would accept the personal oaths of allegiance from each member of the Blood, and would have the chance-by tradition-to execute any of them by her own hand, without reason, who she felt had opposed her ascent to the throne.\n\nThere would be all of that and more. But her declaration was the true coronation. Spoken by the Daughter of the Nine Moons after the period of mourning.\n\nFestivities began the moment she bade them all rise. There would be a week of jubilation. A necessary distraction. The world needed her. It needed an empress. From this moment on, everything would change.\n\nAs the da'covale rose and began to sing the praises of her coronation, Tuon stepped up to General Galgan. \"Pass the word to General Yulan,\" she said softly. \"Tell him to prepare his attack against the marath'damane of Tar Valon. We must strike against the Dragon Reborn, and quickly. This man cannot be allowed to gain anymore strength than he already has.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I began my journey in Tear,\" Verin said, sitting down on Mat's best chair, made of dark walnut with a nice tan pillow. Tomas took up position behind her, hand on the pommel of his sword. \"My goal was to make my way to Tar Valon.\"\n\n\"Then how did you end up here?\" Mat asked, still suspicious as he seated himself on the pillowed bench. He hated the thing; it was completely impossible to sit on it in anyway that was comfortable. Pillows didn't help. Somehow, they made the seat more awkward. Bloody thing must have been designed by insane, cross-eyed Trollocs and built from the bones of the damned. That was the only reasonable explanation.\n\nHe shifted on the bench, and nearly called for another chair, but Verin was continuing. Mandevwin and Talmanes were just inside the tent, the former standing with folded arms, the latter settling himself on the floor. Thom sat on the floor on the other side of the room, watching Verin with calculating eyes. They were all in Mat's smaller audience tent, which was intended only for short conferences between officers. Mat hadn't wanted to bring Verin to his actual sitting tent, as it was still spread outwith his plans for raiding Trustair.\n\n\"I ask myself the same question, Master Cauthon,\" Verin said, smiling, her aging Warder standing behind her chair. \"How did I end up here? It certainly wasn't my intention. And yet here I am.\"\n\n\"You say it almost as if it were an accident, Verin Sedai,\" Mandevwin said. \"But we're speaking of a distance of several hundred leagues!\"\n\n\"Plus,\" Mat added, \"you can Travel. So if you intended to go to the White Tower, then why not just bloody Travel there and be done with it?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Good questions,\" Verin said. \"Indeed. Might I have some tea?\"\n\nMat sighed, shifting on the devil bench again, and waved for Talmanes to give the order. Talmanes rose and ducked outside fora moment to pass the word, then returned and sat down again.\n\n\"Thank you,\" Verin said. \"I find myself quite parched.\" She projected that familiar distracted air that was so common to sisters from the Brown Ajah. Because of the holes in his memory, Mat's first meeting with Verin was fuzzy to him. In fact, his memory of her at all was fuzzy. But he did seem to remember thinking she had the temperament of a scholar.\n\nThis time, studying her, her mannerisms seemed too exaggerated to him. As if she were leaning on the preconceptions about Browns, using them. Fooling people, like a street performer taking in country boys with a clever game of three-card shuffle.\n\nShe eyed him. That smile on the corner of her lips? That was the smile of a jackleg who didn't care that you were onto her con. Now that you understood, you could both enjoy the game, and perhaps together you could dupe someone else.\n\n\"Do you realize how strongly ta'veren you are, young man?\" Verin asked.\n\nMat shrugged. \"Rand's the one you want for that sort of thing. Honestly, I'm barely anything compared to him.\" Blasted colors!\n\n\"Oh, I wouldn't consider downplaying the Dragon's importance,\" Verin said, chuckling. \"But you can't hide your light in his shadow, Matrim Cauthon. Not in the presence of any but the blind, at least. In any other time, you'd undoubtedly be the most powerfully ta'veren individual alive. Probably the most powerful to have lived in centuries.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Mat shifted on the bench." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bloody ashes, he hated the way that made him look as if he was squirming. Maybe he should just stand up. \"What are you talking about, Verin?\" he said instead. He folded his arms and tried to at least pretend that he was comfortable.\n\n\"I'm talking about how you yanked me halfway across the continent.\" Her smile widened as a soldier entered with a steaming cup of mint tea. She took it gratefully, and the soldier retreated.\n\n\"Yanked you?\" Mat said. \"You were looking for me.\"\n\n\"Only after I determined that the Pattern was tugging me somewhere.\" Verin blew on her tea. \"That meant you or Perrin. It couldn't have been Rand's fault, since I'd been able to leave that one easily.\"\n\n\"Rand?\" Mat asked, dismissing yet another flash of colors. \"You were with him?\"\n\nVerin nodded.\n\n\"How... did he seem?\" Mat said. \"Is he... you know....\"\n\n\"Mad?\" Verin asked.\n\nMat nodded.\n\n\"I'm afraid so,\" Verin said, lips downturning slightly. \"I think he's still in control of himself, however.\"\n\n\"Bloody One Power,\" Mat said, reaching beneath his shirt to touch the comforting foxhead medallion.\n\nVerin looked up. \"Oh, I'm not convinced young al'Thor's problems are completely due to the Power, Matrim. Many would like to blame his temperament on saidin, but to do that is to ignore the incredible stresses that we've settled on that poorboy's shoulders.\"\n\nMat raised an eyebrow, glancing at Thom.\n\n\"Either way,\" Verin sipped her tea, \"one cannot blame too much on the taint, as it will no longer affect him.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"It won't?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mat asked. \"He's decided to stop channeling?\"\n\nShe laughed. \"A fish would sooner stop swimming. No, the taint will no longer affect him because the taint is no more. Al'Thor cleansed saidin.\"\n\n\"What?\" Mat asked sharply, sitting up.\n\nVerin sipped her tea.\n\n\"Are you serious?\" Mat asked.\n\n\"Quite,\" she replied.\n\nMat glanced at Thom again. Then he plucked at his coat and ran a hand through his hair.\n\n\"What are you doing?\" Verin asked with amusement.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Mat said, feeling sheepish. \"I guess I just think I should feel different, or something. The whole world up and changed onus, didn't it?\"\n\n\"You could say that,\" Verin said, \"though I would argue that the cleansing itself is more like a pebble thrown into a pond. The ripples will take sometime to reach the shore.\"\n\n\"A pebble?\" Mat asked. \"A pebble?\"\n\n\"Well, perhaps more of a boulder.\"\n\n\"A bloody mountain if you ask me,\" Mat muttered. He settled back on the awful bench.\n\nVerin chuckled. Flaming Aes Sedai. Did they have to be like that? It was probably another oath they took and told nobody about, something to do with acting mysterious. He stared at her. \"What was that chuckle for?\" he finally demanded.\n\n\"Nothing,\" she said. \"I merely suspect that you will soon feel a little of what I did this last month.\"\n\n\"Which was?\"\n\n\"Well,\" she said. \"I believe I was talking about that before we got sidetracked on irrelevant topics.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"On the flaming cleansing of the True Source,\" Mat muttered. \"Honestly.\"\n\n\"I experienced the most curious of events,\" Verin continued. Ignoring Mat, of course. \" You may not be aware of this, but in order to Travel from a location, you need to spend time in it. Usually, stopping in a place for an evening is enough. Consequently, after parting from the Dragon, I made my way to a nearby village and took a room at the inn. I settled down, learning the room and preparing to open a Gateway in the morning.\n\n\"In the middle of the night, however, the innkeeper arrived. He explained with chagrin that I needed to be moved to another room. It appeared that a leak had been discovered in the roof above my room, and it would soon seep through my ceiling. I protested, but he was insistent.\n\n\"And so I moved across the hall and began learning that room. Just when I was feeling I knew it well enough to open a gateway, I was interrupted again. This time, the innkeeper-more embarrassed-explained that his wife had lost herring in that room during early morning cleaning. The woman awoke in the night and was very upset. The innkeeper-looking quite tired-apologetically wanted to move me again.\"\n\n\"And?\" Mat asked. \"Coincidence, Verin.\"\n\nShe raised an eyebrow at him, then smiled as he shifted on the bench again. Burn it all, he wasn't squirming!\n\n\"I refused to be moved, Matrim,\" she said. \"I told the innkeeper he was quite welcome to search the room after I left, and promised that I would not take any rings I discovered with me. Then I firmly shut the door on him.\" She sipped her drink. \"A few minutes later, the inn caught fire-a coal from the hearth rolled to the floor and ended up burning the entire place to the ground. Everyone escaped, fortunately, but the inn was a loss. Tired and bleary-eyed, Tomas and I had to move onto the next village and find rooms there instead.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So?\" Mat said. \"Still sounds like a coincidence.\"\n\n\"This continued for three days,\" Verin said. \"I was interrupted even when I tried to learn a place outside a building. Random passersby asking to share the fire, a falling tree crashing down in camp, a flock of sheep wandering by, an isolated storm. Various random events always contrived to keep me from learning the area.\"\n\nTalmanes whistled softly. Verin nodded. \"Each time I tried to learn an area, something went wrong. I was inevitably moved for some reason. However, when I decided I wasn't going to do anything to learn a location and wasn't planning to make a gateway, nothing happened. Another person might have simply moved on and given upon Traveling for the time, but my nature asserted itself, and I found myself studying the phenomenon. It was quite regular.\"\n\nBloody ashes. That was the sort of thing Rand was supposed to do to people. Not Mat. \"By your account, you should still be in Tear.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, \"but I soon started to feel a tugging on me. Something pulling me, yanking me. As if....\"\n\nMat shifted again. \"As if someone's got a bloody fishhook inside of you? And is standing faraway, pulling gently-but insistently-on it?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Verin said. She smiled. \"What a clever description.\"\n\nMat didn't respond.\n\n\"I decided to use more mundane means to make my voyage. I thought that maybe my inability to Travel had something to do with al'Thor's proximity, or perhaps the gradual unraveling of the Pattern due to the Dark One's influence. I secured a place in a merchant caravan traveling northward toward Cairhien. They had an empty wagon they were willing to rent fora reasonable rate. I was quite fatigued from my days spent staying up all hours because of fires, crying babies and constant moves from one inn room to another. As such, I fear I slept much longer than I should have. Tomas napped as well." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"When we awoke, we were surprised to discover that the caravan had taken a turn to the northwest instead of heading toward Cairhien. I spoke with the caravan master, and he explained that he'd received a last-minute tip that his goods would fetch a much better price in Murandy than in Cairhien. Ashe considered it, he mentioned that he really should have told me about the change, but it had slipped his mind.\"\n\nShe took another sip of tea. \" It was then that I knew for certain that I was being directed. Most wouldn't have noticed it, I suspect, but I have made a study of the nature of ta'veren. The caravan hadn't moved far toward Murandy-only one day-but mixed with the tugging, it was enough. I spoke with Tomas, and we determined to avoid going where we were being pulled. Skimming is an inferior substitute for Traveling, but does not have the same limitation of knowing the area. I opened a gateway, but when we reached the end of our journey, we stepped not into Tar Valon, but a small village in northern Murandy!\n\n\"That shouldn't have been possible. However, as we considered it, Tomas and I realized he had been speaking fondly of a hunting trip he'd gone on once in the village of Trustair, and I'd opened the gateway at that moment. I must have let myself focus on the wrong location.\"\n\n\"And here we are,\" Tomas said, arms folded, looking dissatisfied as he stood behind his Aes Sedai's chair.\n\n\"Indeed,\" Verin said. \"Curious, wouldn't you say, young Matrim? I accidentally end up here, in your path, right when you have great need of someone to create a gateway for your army?\"\n\n\"Still could be coincidence.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And the tugging?\"\n\nHe didn't know what to say to that.\n\n\"Coincidence is how being ta'veren works,\" Verin said. \"You find a discarded object that is of great use to you, or happen to meet an individual at just the right time. Random chance randomly works in your favor. Or haven't you noticed?\" She smiled. \"Care to throw some dice on it?\"\n\n\"No,\" he said reluctantly.\n\n\"One thing bothers me, however,\" Verin said. \"Was there no other person who could have happened into your path? Al'Thor has those Asha'man scouring the countryside looking for men who can channel, and I suspect rural areas like this are top on their list, as it is more likely that channelers could stay unnoticed in such places. One of them could have happened into your path and given you a gateway.\"\n\n\"Not bloody likely,\" Mat said, shivering. \"I'm not trusting the Band to the likes of them.\"\n\n\"Not to get to Andor in a heartbeat?\" Verin asked.\n\nMat hesitated. Well, maybe.\n\n\"I had to be here for some reason,\" she said thoughtfully.\n\n\"I still think you're reading too much into this,\" he replied, shifting yet again on the burning bench.\n\n\"Perhaps. Perhaps not. First, we should negotiate my price for taking you to Andor. I assume you want to reach Caemlyn?\"\n\n\"Price?\" Mat said. \"But you think the Pattern forced you here! Why demand a price of me?\"\n\n\"Because,\" she said, raising a finger, \"while I waited to find you-I honestly didn't know if it would be you or young Perrin-I realized that there were several things I could provide you that no other could.\" She reached into a pocket of her dress, pulling out several pieces of paper. One was the picture of Mat. \"You didn't ask where I got this.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're Aes Sedai,\" Mat said, shrugging. \"I figured you... you know, saidar edit.\"\n\n\"Saidar edit?\" she asked flatly.\n\nHe shrugged.\n\n\"I received this paper, Matrim-\"\n\n\"Call me Mat,\" he said.\n\n\"I received this paper, Matrim, from a Darkfriend,\" she said, \"who told me-thinking me a servant of the Shadow-that one of the Forsaken had commanded that the men in these pictures be killed. You and Perrin are in grave danger.\"\n\n\"I'm not surprised,\" he said, hiding the chill her announcement made him feel. \"Verin, Darkfriends have been trying to kill me since the day I left the Two Rivers.\" He paused. \"Burn me. Since the day before I left the Two Rivers. What does it change?\"\n\n\"This is different,\" Verin said, growing stern. \"The level of danger you are in... I... Well, let us simply agree that you are in great, great danger. I suggest that you be very careful during the next few weeks.\"\n\n\"I'm always careful,\" Mat said.\n\n\"Well, be more so,\" she said. \"Go into hiding. Don't take chances. You will be essential before this is through.\"\n\nHe shrugged. Go into hiding? He could do that. With Thom's help, he could probably do himself up so that even his sisters wouldn't recognize him. \"I can do that,\" he said. \"Bloody simple cost. How long will it take you to get us to Caemlyn?\"\n\n\"That wasn't my cost, Matrim,\" she said, amused. \"That was a suggestion. One I think you should listen to with great prejudice.\" She slipped a small folded piece of paper out from under the picture. It was sealed with a drop of blood-red wax." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mat took it hesitantly. \"It is?\"\n\n\"Instructions,\" Verin said. \"Which you will follow on the tenth day after I leave you in Caemlyn.\"\n\nHe scratched his neck, frowning, then moved to break the seal.\n\n\"You aren't to open them until that day,\" Verin said.\n\n\"What?\" Mat demanded. \"But-\"\n\n\"That is my cost,\" Verin said simply.\n\n\"Bloody woman,\" he said, looking back at the paper. \"I'm not going to swear to something unless I know what it is.\"\n\n\"I doubt you will find my instructions harsh, Matrim,\" she noted.\n\nMat scowled at the seal fora moment, then stood up. \"I pass on it.\"\n\nShe pursed her lips. \"Matrim, you-\"\n\n\"Call me Mat,\" he said, grabbing his hat off the top of a cushion. \"And I said there's no deal. I'll be in Caemlyn in twenty days of marching, anyway.\" He pushed open the tent flaps, gesturing out. \"I'm not going to have you tying strings around me, woman.\"\n\nShe didn't move, though she did frown. \"I had forgotten how difficult you can be.\"\n\n\"And proud of it,\" Mat said.\n\n\"And if we have a compromise?\" Verin asked.\n\n\"You'll tell me what is in that bloody paper?\"\n\n\"No,\" Verin said. \"Because I might not need you to go through with the contents. I hope to be able to return to you and relieve you of the letter and send you on your way. But if I cannot....\"\n\n\"The compromise, then?\" Mat said.\n\n\"You may choose not to open the letter,\" Verin said. \"Burn it. But if you do so, you wait fifty days in Caemlyn, just in case it takes me longer to return than I had expected.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That gave him pause. Fifty days was along time to wait. But if he could do it in Caemlyn, rather than traveling on his own....\n\nWas Elayne in the city? He'd worried about her, since her escape from Ebou Dar. If she was there, he might at least be able to get production started quickly on Aludra's dragons.\n\nBut fifty days? Waiting? Either that, or open the bloody letter and do what it said? He didn't like either option. \"Twenty days,\" he said.\n\n\"Thirty days,\" she said, rising, then raised a finger to cutoff his objection. \"A compromise, Mat. Among Aes Sedai, I think you shall find me to be far more amenable to those than most.\" She held out her hand.\n\nThirty days. He could wait thirty days. He looked at the letter in his hands. He could resist opening it, and thirty days of waiting didn't really lose him anytime. It was only a little longer than he'd take to reach Caemlyn on his own. In fact, this was a bloody bargain! He needed a few weeks to get the dragons going, and he wanted time to find out more about the Tower of Ghenjei and the snakes and foxes. Thom couldn't complain-when it would take them two weeks to reach Caemlyn anyway.\n\nVerin eyed him, a hint of worry on her face. He couldn't let her know how pleased he was. Leta woman know that, and she'd find someway to make you pay her back.\n\n\"Thirty days,\" Mat said reluctantly, taking her hand, \"but at the end of them, I can go.\"\n\n\"Or you can open the letter after ten days,\" Verin said, \"and do what it says. One of the two, Matrim. I have your word?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You do,\" he said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But I'm not going to open the bloody letter. I'm going to wait thirty days, then be off on my business.\"\n\n\"We shall see,\" she said, smiling to herself and releasing his hand. She folded up the picture of him, then took a small leather-bound satchel from her pocket. She opened it, sliding the picture inside, and as she did, he noticed that she had a small stack of folded, sealed pieces of paper inside just like the one he was holding. What was the purpose of those?\n\nOnce the letters were safely tucked in her pocket, she took out a carved piece of translucent stone-a brooch, shaped like a lily. \"Begin breaking down your camp, Matrim. I need to make your gateway as soon as possible. I myself need to Travel shortly.\"\n\n\"Fine.\" Mat looked down at the sealed, folded paper in his hands. Why was Verin being so cryptic?\n\nBurn it! he thought. I'm not going to open it. I'm not. \"Mandevwin,\" he said. \"Get Verin Sedai her own tent to wait in as we break camp and assign a couple of soldiers to fetch for her anything she needs. Also, inform the other Aes Sedai that she's here. They'll probably be interested to hear of her arrival, Aes Sedai being Aes Sedai.\"\n\nMat tucked the folded paper into his belt, then started to leave. \"And have somebody burn that bloody bench. I can't believe we carted the thing this far.\"\n\nTuon was dead. Gone, cast aside, forgotten. Tuon had been the Daughter of the Nine Moons. She was now just a notation in the histories.\n\nFortuona was empress.\n\nFortuona Athaem Devi Paendrag kissed the soldier lightly on the forehead as he knelt, head bowed, on the short grass. The muggy Altaran heat made it feel as if summer had already arrived, but the grass-which had seemed lush and full of life just weeks before-had grown stunted and was beginning to yellow. Where were the weeds and thistles? Recently seeds didn't sprout as they should. Like grain, they were going bad, dying before they truly came alive." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The soldier before Fortuona was one of five. Behind those five stood two hundred members of the Fists of Heaven-the most elite of her attack forces. They wore dark leather breastplates and helms of light wood and leather, shaped like insects. Both helms and breastplates were emblazoned with the sign of the clenched fist. Fifty sul'dam and damane pairs, including Dali and her sul'dam Malahavana, whom Fortuona had given to the cause. She had felt the need to sacrifice something personal to this most important of missions.\n\nHundreds of to'raken milled in the pens behind, walked by their handlers, who were preparing them for the flight to come. Already, a flock of raken circled above, graceful.\n\nFortuona looked down at the soldier before her, laying her fingers on his forehead, where she had kissed him. \"May your death bring victory,\" she said softly, speaking the ritual words. \"May your knife draw blood. May your children sing your praises until the final dawn.\"\n\nHe bowed his head further. Like the four others in the row, he wore black leather. Three knives hung from his belt, and he had no cloak or helm. He was a small man-all members of the Fists of Heaven were small and compact, and over half in this group were women. Weight was always an issue for those facing missions using to'raken. Ina raid, two small, well-trained soldiers were preferable to one lumbering hulk in heavy armor.\n\nIt was early evening, the sun just setting. Lieutenant-General Yulan-who would lead the strike force personally-felt it best to take flight late in the day. Their assault would begin in darkness, shrouding it from those who might be watching the horizon in Ebou Dar. Once, the caution would have been unnecessary. What matter if people in Ebou Dar saw hundreds of to'raken take to the skies? News could never travel as quickly as raken wings." }, { "from": "human", "value": "But their enemies could travel far more quickly than they should be able to." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Be it ter'angreal, weave or something else that gave the power, it was a distinct danger. Better to use all stealth. The flight to Tar Valon would take several days.\n\nFortuona moved to the next soldier in the line of five. The woman's black hair was braided. Fortuona kissed heron the forehead, saying the same ritual words. These five were Bloodknives. The pure black stone ring each one wore was a specialized ter'angreal that would grant them strength and speed, and would shroud them in darkness, allowing them to blend into shadows.\n\nThe incredible abilities came at a cost, however, for the rings leeched life from their hosts, killing them in a matter of days. Removing the ring would slow that process slightly, but once activated-done by touching a drop of one's own blood to the stone ring while wearing it-the process was irreversible.\n\nThese five would not return. They would stay behind, whatever the results of the raid, to kill as many marath'damane as they could. It was a terrible waste-those damane should be leashed-but better to kill them than leave them in the hands of the Dragon Reborn.\n\nFortuona moved to the next soldier in the short line, giving him the kiss and the blessing.\n\nSo much had changed in the days since her meeting with the Dragon Reborn. Her new name was only one of the manifestations. Now even the High Blood often prostrated themselves before her. Her so'jhin-Selucia included-had shaved the hair from their heads. From now on, they would leave the right side of their heads shaved and grow hair down the left side, braiding it as it grew. For now, they wore caps on the left." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The common people walked more confidently, more proudly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They had an empress again. With all that was wrong in the world, this one thing was right again.\n\nFortuona kissed the last of the five Bloodknives, speaking the words condemning them to death, but also to heroism. She stepped back, Selucia standing at her side. General Yulan came forward and bowed himself low. \"Let it be known by the Empress, may she live forever, that we shall not fail her.\"\n\n\"It is known,\" Selucia said. \"Light follow you. Know that Her Majesty, may she live forever, saw anew spring rose drop three petals in the garden today. The omen of your victory has been given. Fulfill it, General, and your reward shall be great.\"\n\nYulan stood, saluting, fist to breast, metal snapping against metal. He led the soldiers to the to'raken pens, the five Bloodknives first. Within moments, the first creature ran down along pasture outside the back of the pen, marked with poles and streamers, then launched itself into the air. Others followed, a fleet, more than Fortuona had ever seen in the sky at once. As the final light of sunset died, they struck northward.\n\nRaken and to'raken were not normally used in this manner. Most raids would be accomplished by dropping the soldiers off at a staging point, where the to'raken would wait while the soldiers attacked and returned. But this raid was too vital. Yulan's plan called fora more daring assault, the likes of which had rarely been contemplated. To'raken with damane and sul'dam on their backs, attacking from the air. It could be the beginning of a bold new tactic. Or it could lead to a disaster.\n\n\"We have changed everything,\" Fortuona said softly. \"General Galgan is wrong; this will not give the Dragon Reborn a worse bargaining position. It will turn him against us.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"And was he not against us before?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Selucia asked.\n\n\"No,\" Fortuona said. \"We were against him.\"\n\n\"And there is a difference?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Fortuona said, watching the cloud of to'raken, just barely visible in the sky. \"There is. I fear we shall soon see just how big a difference that is.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Min sat quietly, watching Rand dress. His motions were tense and careful, like the steps of a performer walking the high rope at a menagerie. He did up the left cuff on his crisp white shirt with slow, deliberate fingers. The right cuff was already done up; his servants saw to that.\n\nIt was approaching evening outside. Not quite dark yet, though the shutters were closed in preparation. Rand reached fora gold and black coat, sliding on one sleeve, then the other. Then did the buttons one after another. He had no trouble with these; he was growing practiced at working with only one hand. Button after button. First, second, third, fourth....\n\nMin felt like screaming.\n\n\"Do you want to talk about it?\" she asked.\n\nRand did not turn from the mirror. \"About what?\"\n\n\"The Seanchan.\"\n\n\"There will be no peace,\" he said, straightening his coat collar. \"I have failed.\" His tone was emotionless, yet somehow taut.\n\n\"It's all right to be frustrated, Rand.\"\n\n\"Frustration is pointless,\" he said. \"Anger is pointless. Neither emotion will change facts, and the fact is that I have no more time to waste on the Seanchan. We will have to risk an attack from behind by riding to the Last Battle without stability in Arad Doman. It is not ideal, but it is what must happen.\"\n\nThe air shimmered above Rand, and a mountain appeared there. Viewings were so common around Rand that Min usually forced herself to ignore them unless they were new-though she did spend time some days trying to pick them all out and sort through them. This one was new, and it caught her attention. The towering mountain was blasted out on one side, making a jagged hole down the slope. Dragonmount? It was cloaked in dark shadows, as if shaded by clouds high above. That was odd; whenever she'd seen the mountain, it had reached higher than the clouds themselves." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Help to continue the narrative for the writer.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, last battle\nAuthor: Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson\nTitle: The Gathering Storm\nChapter: 47" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Min sat quietly, watching Rand dress. His motions were tense and careful, like the steps of a performer walking the high rope at a menagerie. He did up the left cuff on his crisp white shirt with slow, deliberate fingers. The right cuff was already done up; his servants saw to that.\n\nIt was approaching evening outside. Not quite dark yet, though the shutters were closed in preparation. Rand reached fora gold and black coat, sliding on one sleeve, then the other. Then did the buttons one after another. He had no trouble with these; he was growing practiced at working with only one hand. Button after button. First, second, third, fourth....\n\nMin felt like screaming.\n\n\"Do you want to talk about it?\" she asked.\n\nRand did not turn from the mirror. \"About what?\"\n\n\"The Seanchan.\"\n\n\"There will be no peace,\" he said, straightening his coat collar. \"I have failed.\" His tone was emotionless, yet somehow taut.\n\n\"It's all right to be frustrated, Rand.\"\n\n\"Frustration is pointless,\" he said. \"Anger is pointless. Neither emotion will change facts, and the fact is that I have no more time to waste on the Seanchan. We will have to risk an attack from behind by riding to the Last Battle without stability in Arad Doman. It is not ideal, but it is what must happen.\"\n\nThe air shimmered above Rand, and a mountain appeared there. Viewings were so common around Rand that Min usually forced herself to ignore them unless they were new-though she did spend time some days trying to pick them all out and sort through them. This one was new, and it caught her attention. The towering mountain was blasted out on one side, making a jagged hole down the slope. Dragonmount? It was cloaked in dark shadows, as if shaded by clouds high above. That was odd; whenever she'd seen the mountain, it had reached higher than the clouds themselves." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Dragonmount in shadows." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It would be important to Rand in the future. Was that a tiny prick of light shining from the heavens down onto the point of the mountain?\n\nThe viewing vanished. Though Min knew what some of them meant, this one baffled her. She sighed, leaning back in the red-cushioned chair. Her books lay scattered on the floor; she'd been dedicating more and more time to her studies, partly because she felt Rand's sense of urgency, and partly because she didn't know what else to do. She liked to think that she was capable of taking care of herself. And she'd begun to think of herself as a last defense for Rand.\n\nMin had discovered just how useful she was as a'line of defense.\" She'd been about as useful as a child! In fact, she'd been a hindrance, a tool for Semirhage to use against him. She'd been indignant when Rand had suggested sending her away, giving him a tongue-lashing for even suggesting it. Send her away! To keep her safe? That was foolishness! She could take care of herself.\n\nSo she had thought. Now she saw that he'd been right.\n\nThat made her sick. So she studied and tried to stay out of his way. He'd changed on that day, as if something bright had turned off inside of him. A lamp flickering out, its oil gone, leaving only the casing. He looked at her differently, now. When those eyes of his studied her, did they see only a liability?\n\nShe shivered, trying to shove that thought from her mind.\n\nRand put on his boots, then did up their buckles.\n\nHe stood, reaching for the sword which leaned against his clothing chest. The black scabbard, with its lacquered red and gold dragon, sparkled in the light. Such a strange weapon those scholars had found beneath the submerged statue. The sword felt so old. Was Rand wearing it today as a symbol of something? A sign, perhaps, that he was riding to battle?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're going after her, aren't you?\" Min found herself asking. \"Graendal.\"\n\n\"I have to fix what problems I can,\" Rand said, pulling the ancient sword from the sheath and checking the blade. There was no heron mark, but the fine steel blade glistened in the lamplight, showing the undulating lines of its folded metal. It had been Power-forged, he claimed. He seemed to know things about it he did not share.\n\nRand snapped the blade into the black scabbard, looking at her. \"Fix the problems you can, don't fret over the ones you cannot. It was something Tam once told me. Arad Doman will have to survive against the Seanchan on its own. The last thing I can do for the people here is remove one of the Forsaken from their soil.\"\n\n\"She might be waiting for you, Rand,\" Min said. \"Did it occur to you that the boy Nynaeve found was a plant? Intended to be discovered, to lead you into a trap?\"\n\nHe hesitated, then shook his head. \"He was genuine, Min. Moghedien might have considered a trick like that, but not Graendal. She'd be too worried about being traced. We have to move quickly, before word reaches her that she has been compromised. I must strike now.\"\n\nMin stood.\n\n\"Are you coming, then?\" Rand asked, looking surprised.\n\nShe flushed. What if things go as poorly with Graendal as they did with Semirhage? What if I become a tool against him again?\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, just to prove to herself that she wasn't giving up. \"Of course I'm coming. Don't think you can leave me behind!\"\n\n\"I wouldn't dream of it,\" he said flatly. \"Come.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She'd expected more of an argument.\n\nFrom the nightstand he picked up the statuette of a man holding aloft a globe. He turned the ter'angreal in his hand, inspecting it, then looked up at Min, as if in challenge. She said nothing.\n\nHe tucked the statuette into the oversized pocket of his coat, then strode from the room, ancient, Power-forged sword belted to his waist.\n\nMin hurried after Rand. He glanced at the pair of Maidens guarding the door. \"I go to battle,\" he said to them. \"Bring no more than twenty.\"\n\nThe Maidens exchanged a brief moment of handtalk; then one loped ahead and the other tailed Rand as he marched down the hallway. Min hurried up beside him, heart thumping, her boots loud on the floorboards. He had rushed off like this to fight Forsaken before, but usually he took more time to plan. He'd maneuvered Sammael for months before striking at Illian. He'd had barely a single day to decide what do with Graendal!\n\nMin checked her knives, making certain they were secure in her sleeves, but it was just a nervous habit. Rand reached the end of the hallway, then strode down the stairs, his face still calm, his step quick but not hurried. Yet he seemed like a thunderstorm, contained and wrapped up, somehow bound and channeled toward a single goal. How she wished he'd just explode and lose his temper, the way he used to! He'd exasperated her then, but he'd never frightened her. Not as he did now, with those icy eyes she couldn't read, that aura of danger. Since the incident with Semirhage, he spoke of doing'whatever he had to\" regardless of cost, and she knew that he must seethe at having failed to convince the Seanchan to ally with him. What would that combination of failure and determination lead him to do?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At the bottom of the wide staircase, Rand spoke to a servant. \"Fetch for me Nynaeve Sedai and Lord Ramshalan. Bring them to the sitting room.\"\n\nLord Ramshalan? The overstuffed man from Lady Chadmar's former circle? \"Rand,\" Min said quietly, reaching the bottom of the stairs, \"what are you planning?\"\n\nHe said nothing. He strode through the white marble entryway, entering the sitting room, which was decorated in deep reds to contrast with the white floor. He did not sit, but remained standing with his arms behind his back, studying the map of Arad Doman he'd ordered placed on the wall. The aged map hung where a fine oil painting once had, and seemed completely out of place in the room.\n\nOn the map, there was a black ink mark at the edge of a small lake to the southeast. Rand had placed it there the morning after Kerb died. It marked Natrin's Barrow.\n\n\"It was a fort, once,\" Rand said absently.\n\n\"The city where Graendal is hiding?\" Min said, walking up beside him.\n\nHe shook his head. \"It's not a city. I've sent scouts. It's just a solitary structure, built long ago to watch the Mountains of Mist and guard against incursion through the passes by Manetheren. It hasn't been used for military purposes since the Trolloc Wars; there's hardly need to worry about invasion from Two Rivers people who don't even remember the name Manetheren.\"\n\nMin nodded. \"Though, Arad Doman did get invaded by a shepherd from the Two Rivers.\"\n\nOnce that would have made him smile. She kept forgetting that he didn't do that anymore.\n\n\"A few centuries back,\" Rand said, eyes narrowed in thought, \" the king of Arad Doman seized Natrin's Barrow back in the name of the throne. For sometime before, it had been occupied by a minor noble family from Toman Head who had been trying to setup their own new kingdom. That happens on Almoth Plain occasionally. The Domani king liked the location, and used the fortress as a palace instead." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"He spent a great deal of time there, so much, in fact, that several of his merchant enemies gained too much power in Bandar Eban. The King fell, but his successors also used the fortress, and it became a popular retreat for the Crown when the King needed relaxation. The practice dwindled during the last hundred years or so, until it was granted to a distant cousin of the King about fifty years back. Their family has used it ever since. Among the general Domani populace, Natrin's Barrow has been largely forgotten.\"\n\n\"Except by Alsalam?\" Min asked.\n\nRand shook his head. \"No. I doubt he knew of it at all. I learned this history from the royal archivist, who had to search for hours to locate the name of the family using the place. There has been no contact with them for months, though they used to visit towns on occasion. The few farmsteaders in the area say that someone new seems to be living in the palace, though nobody knows where the former owner went. They seem surprised that they've never thought about how odd that is.\"\n\nHe eyed her. \"This is exactly the sort of location Graendal would choose as her center of power. It's a jewel-a forgotten fortress of beauty and power, ancient and regal. Close enough to Bandar Eban for her to have a hand in ruling Arad Doman, but far enough away to be defensible and secluded. I made a mistake in my searches for her-I assumed she'd want a beautiful manor with gardens and grounds. I should have realized; it isn't just beauty that she collects, but prestige. A magnificent fortress for kings fits her just as much as an elegant manor house. Particularly since this one is more palace than fort now.\"\n\nFootsteps in the entryway behind drew Min's attention, and a few seconds later a servant ushered in Nynaeve and the foppish Ramshalan, with his pointed beard and thin mustache. Today he had tiny bells at the end of the beard and wore a black velvet beauty mark on his cheek, also in the shape of a bell. He wore a loose silk costume of green and blue, the sleeves drooping, ruffled shirt poking out beneath. Min didn't care what fashion dictated, the man looked ridiculous. Like a disheveled peacock." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My Lord called for me?\" Ramshalan said, bowing extravagantly toward Rand.\n\nRand didn't turn away from the map. \"I have a puzzle for you, Ramshalan,\" he said. \"I want to know what you think.\"\n\n\"Please, don't hesitate, my Lord!\"\n\n\"Then tell me this: How do I outthink an enemy I know is smarter than I am?\"\n\n\"My Lord.\" Ramshalan bowed a second time, as if worried that Rand hadn't noticed the first one. \"Surely you seek to trick me! There is nobody more intelligent than yourself.\"\n\n\"I wish that were true,\" Rand said softly. \"I face some of the most crafty people who have ever lived. My current foe understands the minds of others in away that I cannot hope to match. So how do I defeat her? She will vanish the moment I threaten her, running to one of a dozen other refuges she is sure to have setup. She won't fight me head-on, yet if I destroy her fortress in a surprise attack, I risk letting her slip away and never knowing if I've finished her.\"\n\n\"A problem indeed, my Lord,\" Ramshalan said. He looked confused.\n\nRand nodded, as if to himself. \"I have to peer into her eyes, see into her soul, and know that it's her that I face and not some decoy. I have to do that without frightening her into running. How? How can I kill a foe who is more clever than myself, a foe who is impossible to surprise, yet who is also unwilling to confront me?\"\n\nRamshalan looked overwhelmed by those demands. \"I.... My Lord, if your foe is that clever, then perhaps your best course of action is to request the aid of someone more clever?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand turned to him. \"An excellent suggestion, Ramshalan. Perhaps I've already done just that.\"\n\nThe man swelled. He thinks that's why Rand summoned him! Min realized. She had to hide her smile with a turn of the head and a raised hand.\n\n\"If you had an enemy such as this, Ramshalan, what would you do?\" Rand asked. \"I grow impatient. Give mean answer.\"\n\n\"I'd make an alliance, my Lord,\" Ramshalan said without pausing for another second. \"Anyone that powerful would make a better friend than foe, I say.\"\n\nIdiot, Min thought. If your enemy is that crafty and ruthless, an alliance will only end with an assassin's dagger in your back.\n\n\"Another excellent suggestion,\" Rand said softly. \"But I am still intrigued by the first comment you made. You said I need allies who are smarter than I am, and that is true. It is time for you to be off, then.\"\n\n\"My Lord?\" Ramshalan said.\n\n\"You are to be my emissary,\" Rand said, waving his hand. A gateway suddenly split the air on the far side of the room, shearing through the fine rug at the floor. \"Too many of the Domani bloodborn are hiding, scattered through the country. I would have them as my allies, but it would be a drain on my time to seek each one in person. Fortunately, I have you to goon my behalf.\"\n\nRamshalan looked excited about the prospect. Through the gateway, Min could see towering pines, and the air on the other side was cold and crisp. Min turned and glanced at Nynaeve-dressed in blue and white again. The Aes Sedai watched the exchange with calculating eyes, and Min could read her own emotions in Nynaeve's expression. What was Rand's game?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Beyond that gateway,\" Rand said, \"you will find a hill leading down to an ancient palace which is inhabited by a minor Domani merchant family. It is the first of many places I shall send you. Go in my name and seek those who rule the keep. See if they are willing to support me, or if they even know about me. Offer them rewards for allegiance; since you have proven yourself clever, I will let you determine the terms. I haven't the mind for those sorts of negotiations myself.\"\n\n\"Yes, my Lord!\" the man said, swelling further, though he did eye the gateway with concern, distrustful-like most people-of the One Power, particularly when wielded by a man. If it were opportune, this man would switch loyalties as quickly as he had when Lady Chadmar had fallen. What was Rand thinking, sending a popinjay like this to meet with Graendal?\n\n\"Go,\" Rand said.\n\nRamshalan took a few hesitant steps toward the gateway. \"Er, my Lord Dragon, could I perhaps have something in the way of an escort?\"\n\n\"No need to frighten or alarm the people there,\" Rand said without turning from the map. Cold air continued to blow through the gateway. \"Go quickly and return, Ramshalan. I will leave the gateway open until you are back. My patience is not limitless, and there are many I could turn to for this mission.\"\n\n\"I....\" The man seemed to calculate the risks. \"Of course, Lord Dragon.\" He took a deep breath and walked through the portal, his steps uncomfortable, like those of a house cat venturing out into a puddle of water. Min found herself feeling sorry for the man.\n\nFallen needles crackled as Ramshalan moved off into the forest. A breeze hissed through the trees; it was an odd sound to hear while standing in the comfort of the mansion. Rand left the gateway open, still staring at his map." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"All right, Rand,\" Nynaeve demanded after a few minutes, her arms folded. \"What game is this?\"\n\n\"How would you beat her, Nynaeve?\" Rand asked. \"She won't be goaded into fighting me, like Rahvin or Sammael were. She won't be easily trapped either. Graendal understands people better than anyone. Twisted she maybe, but she is crafty, and should not be underestimated. Torhs Margin made that mistake, I recall, and you know his fate.\"\n\nMin frowned. \"Who?\" she asked, looking at Nynaeve. The Aes Sedai shrugged.\n\nRand glanced at them. \"I believe in history he was known as Tohrs the Broken.\"\n\nAgain, Min shook her head. Nynaeve joined her. Neither was deeply versed in history, true, but Rand acted as if they should know this name. Rand's face hardened, and he blushed just faintly, turning away from them. \"The question remains,\" he said, voice soft but tense. \"How would you fight her, Nynaeve?\"\n\n\"I don't care to play your games, Rand al'Thor,\" Nynaeve replied with a huff. \"You've obviously already decided what you intend to do. Why ask me?\"\n\n\"Because what I am about to do should frighten me,\" he said. \"It doesn't.\"\n\nMin shivered. Rand nodded to the Maidens standing in the doorway. Moving lightly, they crossed the room, leaped through the gateway, and spread through the pine forest, quickly vanishing from sight. All twenty together made less noise than Ramshalan had.\n\nMin waited. On the other side of the gateway, a distant sun was hidden from sight, giving a late-afternoon light to the shadowed forest floor. After a few moments, white-haired Nerilea stepped into view and nodded to Rand. All clear." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Come,\" Rand said, and walked to the gateway." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Min followed, though Nynaeve-breaking into a trot-beat her to the gateway.\n\nThey stepped out onto a carpet of brown pine needles, dirtied from along slumber beneath the vanished winter snows. Branches nudged one another in the breeze, and the mountain air was more chilly than the breeze had indicated. Min wished fora cloak, but there wasn't time to go fetch one. Rand strode directly through the forest, Nynaeve trotting up to him and speaking in a low voice.\n\nNynaeve wouldn't get anything useful out of Rand, not when he was in this kind of mood. They would just have to see what he revealed. Min caught sight of some Aiel in the woods, but only brief glimpses when they obviously weren't taking care to hide. They certainly had taken well to life in the wetlands. How did a people raised in the Waste know so instinctively how to hide in a forest?\n\nUp ahead, the trees broke. Min hastened to join Rand and Nynaeve, who had stopped at the top of a gently sloping ridge. Here, they could see over the forest, and the trees continued down below like a sea of green and brown. The pines parted at the shores of a small mountain lake, caught in a triangular depression of the land.\n\nAtop a ridge of its own, high above the water, was an impressive white stone structure. Rectangular and tall, it was builtin the form of several towers stacked atop one another, each one slightly thinner than the one beneath. That gave the palace an elegant shape-fortified, yet palatial. \"It's beautiful,\" she said breathlessly.\n\n\"It was built during a different time,\" Rand said. \"A time when people still thought that the majesty of a structure lent it strength.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The palace was distant, but not so distant that Min couldn't make out the figures of men walking the battlements on guard, halberds at their shoulders, breastplates reflecting the late sunlight. A late party of hunters rode in through the gates, a fine buck deer lashed to the packhorse, and a group of workers chopped at a fallen tree nearby, perhaps for firewood. A pair of serving women in white carried poles, bucket at each end, up from the lake, and lights were winking on in windows the length of the structure. It was a living, working estate bundled up in a single massive building.\n\n\"Do you think Ramshalan found his way?\" Nynaeve said, arms folded, obviously trying not to look impressed.\n\n\"Even a fool like him could not miss that,\" Rand said, eyes narrowing. He still carried the statuette in his pocket. Min wished he had left the thing behind. It made her uncomfortable, the way he fingered it. Caressed it.\n\n\"So you sent Ramshalan to die,\" Nynaeve said. \"What will that accomplish?\"\n\n\"She won't kill him,\" Rand said.\n\n\"How can you be sure of that?\"\n\n\"It isn't her way,\" Rand said. \"Not when she can use him against me.\"\n\n\"You don't expect her to believe that story you told him,\" Min said. \"About sending him out to test the allegiance of the Domani lords?\"\n\nRand slowly shook his head. \"No. I hope for her to believe something of that tale, but I do not expect it. I meant what I said about her, Min-she's more crafty than I am. And I fear that she knows me far better than I know her. She will compel Ramshalan and pull from him that entire conversation we had. From there, she will find away to use that conversation against me.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"How?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Min asked.\n\n\"I don't know. I wish I did. She'll think of something clever, then infect Ramshalan with a very subtle Compulsion that I won't be able to anticipate. I'll be left with the choice to keep him nearby and see what he does, or to send him away. But of course, she will think of that as well, and whatever I do will set in motion her other plans.\"\n\n\"You make it sound as if you can't win,\" Nynaeve said, frowning. She didn't seem to notice the chill at all. In fact, neither did Rand. Whatever that'trick\" about ignoring cold and heat was, Min had never been able to figure it out. They claimed it had nothing to do with the power, but if that were so, why were Rand and the Aes Sedai the only ones who could manage it? The Aiel didn't seem to be bothered by the cold either, but they didn't count. They never seemed bothered by regular human concerns, though they could be very touchy about the most random and insignificant things.\n\n\"We can't win, you say?\" Rand asked. \"Is that what we're trying to do? Win?\"\n\nNynaeve raised an eyebrow. \"Do you not answer questions anymore?\"\n\nRand turned, looking at Nynaeve. Standing on the other side of him, Min couldn't see what was in his face, but she could see Nynaeve grow pale. It washer own fault. Couldn't she sense how on edge Rand was? Perhaps Min's chill didn't just come from the cold. She moved up close to him, but he didn't put his arm around her as he might once have. When he finally turned away from Nynaeve, the Aes Sedai slumped slightly, as if she had been dangling, held up by his gaze." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand did not speak for sometime, and so they waited quietly on the mountain ridge as the distant sun made its way toward the horizon. Shadows lengthened, fingers stretching away from the sun. Down below, by the fortress walls, a group of grooms began walking some horses to give them exercise. More lights had been lit in the fortress windows. How many people did Graendal have in there? Scores, if not hundreds.\n\nA crashing sound in the brush suddenly drew Min's attention; it was accompanied by curses. She jumped as the noise cutoff quite abruptly.\n\nA small group of Aiel approached a few moments later, leading a disheveled Ramshalan, his fine clothing stuck with needles and scratched from branches. He dusted himself off, then took a step toward Rand.\n\nThe Maidens held him back. He glanced at them, cocking his head. \"My Lord Dragon?\"\n\n\"Is he infected?\" Rand asked of Nynaeve.\n\n\"By what?\" she asked.\n\n\"Graendal's touch.\"\n\nNynaeve walked over to Ramshalan and looked at him fora moment. She hissed and said, \"Yes. Rand, he's under a heavy Compulsion. There area lot of weaves here. Not as bad as the chandler's apprentice, or maybe just more subtle.\"\n\n\"I say,\" Ramshalan said, \"my Lord Dragon, what is going on? The lady of the castle down there was quite friendly-she is anally, my Lord. You have nothing to fear from her! Very refined, I must say.\"\n\n\"Is that so?\" Rand asked quietly. It was growing dark, sun setting behind the distant mountains. Besides the dim evening light, the only illumination came from the still-open gateway behind them. It shone with lamplight, an inviting portal back to warmth, away from this place of shadow and coldness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand's voice sounded so hard. Worse than Min had ever heard it before.\n\n\"Rand,\" she said, touching his arm. \"Let's go back.\"\n\n\"I have something I must do,\" he said, not looking at her.\n\n\"Think about it some more,\" Min said. \"At least take some advice. We can ask Cadsuane, or-\"\n\n\"Cadsuane held me in a box, Min,\" he said very softly. His face was clasped in shadow, but as he turned toward her, his eyes reflected the light from the open gateway. Orange and red. There was an edge of anger to his tone. I shouldn't have mentioned Cadsuane, she realized. The woman's name was one of the few things that could still get emotion out of him.\n\n\"A box, Min,\" Rand whispered. \"Though Cadsuane's box had walls that were invisible, it was as binding as any that ever held me. Her tongue was far more painful a rod than any that was taken to my skin. I see that now.\"\n\nRand pulled away from Min's touch.\n\n\"What is the purpose of all this?\" Nynaeve demanded. \"You sent this man to suffer a Compulsion, knowing what it would do to him? I won't watch another man squirm and die because of this! Whatever she has compelled him to do, I won't remove it! It will be your own fault if it brings your death.\"\n\n\"My Lord?\" Ramshalan asked. The growing terror in his voice put Min on edge.\n\nThe sunset; Rand was now just a silhouette. The fortress was only a black profile with lanterns lighting the holes in its walls. Rand stepped up to the lip of the ridge, removing the access key from his pocket. It started to glow just faintly, a red light coming from its very heart. Nynaeve inhaled sharply." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Neither of you were there when Callandor failed me,\" he said into the night. \" It happened twice. Once I tried to use it to raise the dead, but I got only a puppeted body. Once I tried to use it to destroy the Seanchan, but I caused as much death among my own armies as I caused among theirs.\n\n\"Cadsuane told me that the second failure came from a flaw in Callandor itself. It cannot be controlled by alone man, you see. It only works if he's in a box. Callandor is a carefully enticing leash, intended to make me surrender willingly.\"\n\nThe access key's globe burst alight with a more brilliant color, seeming crystalline. The light within was scarlet, the core brilliant and bright. As if someone had dropped a glowing rock into a pool of blood.\n\n\"I see a different answer to my problems,\" Rand said, voice still almost a whisper. \"Both times Callandor failed me, I was being reckless with my emotion. I allowed temper to drive me. I can't kill in anger, Min. I have to keep that anger inside; I must channel it as I channel the One Power. Each death must be deliberate. Intentional.\"\n\nMin couldn't speak. Couldn't phrase her fears, couldn't find the words to make him stop. His eyes remained in the darkness, somehow, despite the liquid light he held before him. That light hurled shadows away from his figure, as if he was the point of a silent explosion. Min turned to Nynaeve; the Aes Sedai watched with wide eyes, mouth slightly open. She couldn't find words either.\n\nMin turned back to Rand. When he'd been close to killing her with his own hand, she hadn't feared him. But then, she'd known that it wasn't Rand hurting her, but Semirhage." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But this Rand-hand aflame, eyes so intent yet so dispassionate-terrified her.\n\n\"I've done it before,\" he whispered. \"I once said that I didn't kill women, but it was a lie. I murdered a woman long before I faced Semirhage. Her name was Liah. I killed her in Shadar Logoth. I struck her down, and I called it mercy.\"\n\nHe turned to the fortress palace below.\n\n\"Forgive me,\" he said, but it didn't seem directed at Min, \"for calling this mercy as well.\"\n\nSomething impossibly bright formed in the air before him, and Min cried out, backing away. The air itself seemed to warp, as if pulling away from Rand in fear. Dust blew from the ground in a circle around him, and the trees groaned, lit by the brilliant white light, the pine needles rattling like a hundred thousand insects scrambling over one another. Min could no longer make out Rand, only a blazing, brilliant force of light. Pure power, gathered, making the hairs on her arms rise with the force of its nebulous energy. In that moment, she felt as if she could understand what the One Power was. It was there, before her, made incarnate in the man Rand al'Thor.\n\nAnd then, with a sound like a sigh, he released it. A column of pure whiteness exploded from him and burned across the silent night sky, illuminating the trees below it in a wave. It moved as quick as a snap of the fingers, striking the wall of the distant fortress. The stones came alight, as if they were breathing in the force of the energy. The entire fortress glowed, transforming into living light, an amazing, spectacular palace of unadulterated energy. It was beautiful." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And then it was gone. Burned from the landscape-and the Pattern-as if it had never been there. The entire fortress, hundreds of feet of stone and everyone who had lived in it.\n\nSomething hit Min, something like a shocking wave in the air. It wasn't a physical blast, and it didn't make her stumble, but it twisted her insides about. The forest around them-still lit by the glowing access key in Rand's hands-seemed to warp and shake. It was as if the world itself were groaning in agony.\n\nIt snapped back, but Min could still feel that tension. In that instant, it seemed as if the very substance of world had been near to breaking.\n\n\"What have you done?\" Nynaeve whispered.\n\nRand didn't reply. Min could see his face again, now that the enormous column of balefire had vanished, leaving behind only the glowing access key. He was in ecstasy, mouth agape, and he held the access key aloft before himself as if in victory. Orin reverence.\n\nThen he gritted his teeth, eyes opening wide, lips parted as if he were under great pressure. The light flashed once, then immediately vanished. All became dark. Min blinked in the sudden darkness, trying to get her eyes to adjust. The powerful image of Rand seemed burned into her vision. Had he really done what she thought he had? Had he burned away an entire fortress with balefire?\n\nAll those people. Men returning from the hunt... women carrying water... soldiers on the walls... the grooms outside...\n\nThey were gone. Burned from the Pattern. Killed. Dead forever. The horror of it made Min stumble back, and she pressed her back against a tree to keep herself upright.\n\nSo many lives, ended in an instant. Dead. Destroyed. By Rand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Alight appeared from Nynaeve, and Min turned, seeing the Aes Sedai illuminated by the warm, soft glow of a globe above her hand." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her eyes seemed almost afire with alight of their own. \"You are out of control, Rand al'Thor,\" she declared.\n\n\"I do what must be done,\" he said, speaking now from the shadows. He sounded exhausted. \"Test him, Nynaeve.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"The fool,\" Rand said. \"Is her Compulsion still there? Is Graendal's touch gone?\"\n\n\"I hate what you just did, Rand,\" Nynaeve snarled. \"No. \"Hate\" isn't strong enough. I loathe what you've done. What has happened to you?\"\n\n\"Test him!\" Rand whispered, voice dangerous. \"Before condemning me, let us first determine if my sins have achieved anything beyond my own damnation.\"\n\nNynaeve breathed in deeply, then glanced at Ramshalan, who was still held in the grip of several Aiel Maidens. Nynaeve reached out and touched his forehead, concentrating. \"It's gone,\" she said. \"Erased.\"\n\n\"Then she is dead,\" Rand said from the darkness.\n\nLight! Min thought, realizing what he'd done. He didn't use Ramshalan as a courier, or as bait. He used the man as away of proving to himself that Graendal was dead. Balefire burned someone out of the Pattern completely, making it so that their most recent actions never occurred. Ramshalan would remember visiting Graendal, but her Compulsion no longer existed. Ina way, she'd been killed before Ramshalan had visited her.\n\nMin felt at her neck, where the bruises of Rand's hand on her neck hadn't yet faded.\n\n\"I don't understand,\" Ramshalan said, his voice nearly a squeak." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How do you fight someone smarter than yourself?\" Rand whispered. \"The answer is simple. You make her think that you are sitting down across the table from her, ready to play her game. Then you punch her in the face as hard as you can. You have served me well, Ramshalan. I will forgive you for boasting to Lords Vivian and Callswell that you could manipulate me however you wished.\"\n\nRamshalan slumped in shock, and the Maidens let him fall to his knees. \"My Lord!\" he said. \"I had too much wine that night, and-\"\n\n\"Hush,\" Rand said. \"As I said, you have served me well this day. I will not execute you. You will find a village two days' walk to the south.\"\n\nWith that, Rand turned; to Min's eyes, he was just a shadow rustling in the forest. He walked to the gateway and stepped through. Min hurried to follow him, and Nynaeve did likewise. The Maidens came last, leaving Ramshalan kneeling stupefied in the forest. When the last Maiden was through the gateway, the portal slid closed, cutting off the sounds of Ramshalan whimpering in the dark.\n\n\"What you have done is an abomination, Rand al'Thor,\" Nynaeve said as soon as the gateway was closed. \"There looked to have been dozens, maybe hundreds, of people living in that palace!\"\n\n\"Each one made into an idiot by Graendal's Compulsion,\" Rand replied. \"She never lets anyone close to her without destroying their mind first. The boy she sent to work the jail barely knew a fraction of the torture most of her pets receive. She leaves them without ability to think or act-all they can do is kneel and adore her, perhaps run errands at her command. I did them a favor.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A favor?\" Nynaeve asked. \"Rand, you used balefire! They were burned out of existence!\"\n\n\"As I said,\" Rand replied softly. \"A favor. Sometimes, I wish the same blessing for myself. Goodnight, Nynaeve. Sleep as well you can, for our time in Arad Doman is at an end.\"\n\nMin watched him go, wishing to sprint after him, but holding herself back. Once he was gone from the room, Nynaeve slumped into one of the room's maroon chairs, sighing and leaning her head against her hand.\n\nMin felt like doing the same. Until that moment, she hadn't realized just how drained she was. Being around Rand lately did that to her, even when he wasn't engaged in activities as terrible as the ones this night.\n\n\"I wish Moiraine were here,\" Nynaeve muttered softly, then froze, as if surprised to have heard herself say that.\n\n\"We have to do something, Nynaeve,\" Min said, looking at the Aes Sedai.\n\nNynaeve nodded absently. \"Maybe.\"\n\n\"What do you mean by that?\"\n\n\"Well, what if he's right?\" Nynaeve asked. \"Wool-headed fool though he is, what if he really does have to be like this to win? The old Rand could never have destroyed an entire fortress full of people to kill one of the Forsaken.\"\n\n\"Of course he couldn't have,\" Min said. \"He still cared about killing then! Nynaeve, all those lives...\"\n\n\"And how many people would still be alive now if he'd been this ruthless from the start?\" Nynaeve asked, looking away. \" If he'd been capable of sending his followers into danger as he did Ramshalan? If he'd been able to strike without worrying about whom he would have to kill? If he'd ordered his troops into Graendal's fortress, her followers would have resisted fanatically, and they would have ended up dead anyway. And she would have escaped." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"This might be what he has to be. The Last Battle is nearly upon us, Min. The Last Battle! Can we dare send a man to fight the Dark One who won't sacrifice for what needs to be done?\"\n\nMin shook her head. \"Dare we send him as he is, with that look in his eyes? Nynaeve, he's stopped caring. Nothing matters to him anymore but defeating the Dark One.\"\n\n\"Isn't that what we want him to do?\"\n\n\"I....\" She stopped. \"Winning won't be winning at all if Rand becomes something as bad as the Forsaken... We-\"\n\n\"I understand,\" Nynaeve said suddenly. \"Light burn me, but I do, and you're right. I just don't like the answers those conclusions are giving me.\"\n\n\"What conclusions?\"\n\nNynaeve sighed. \"That Cadsuane was right,\" she said. Nearly under her breath, she added, \"Insufferable woman.\" She stood up. \"Come on. We need to find her and discover what her plans are.\"\n\nMin stood, joining Nynaeve. \"You're certain she has plans? Rand was harsh with her. Maybe she's just staying with us to watch him flounder and fail without her.\"\n\n\"She has plans,\" Nynaeve said. \"If there's one thing we can count on with that woman, it's that she's scheming. We just have to convince her to let us in on it.\"\n\n\"And if she won't?\" Min asked.\n\n\"She will,\" Nynaeve said, looking at the place where Rand's gateway had split the rug. \"Once we tell her about tonight, she will. I dislike the woman, and I suspect she returns the emotion, but neither of us can handle Rand alone.\" She pursed her lips. \"I worry we won't be able to handle him together. Let's go.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Min followed. \"Handle\" Rand? That was another problem. Nynaeve and Cadsuane were both so concerned with handling that they failed to see that it might be best to help him instead. Nynaeve cared for Rand, but she saw him as a problem to be fixed, rather than a man in need.\n\nAnd so Min accompanied the Aes Sedai out of the mansion. They walked into the dark courtyard-Nynaeve making a globe of light-and hurried around the back, past the stable and toward the gatekeeper's cottage. They passed Alivia on the way; the former damane looked disappointed. Likely, she'd been turned away by Cadsuane and the others again-Alivia spent a great deal of time trying to get the Aes Sedai to train her in new weaves.\n\nThey finally reached the gatekeeper's cottage-at least, the gatekeeper's cottage was what it had been until Cadsuane prevailed upon him to move out. It was a single-story, thatch-roofed structure of painted yellow wood. Light shone out between the shutters on the windows.\n\nNynaeve stepped up to the front and knocked on the sturdy oak door; it was answered shortly by Merise. \"Yes, child?\" the Green asked, as if intentionally trying to goad Nynaeve.\n\n\"I have to speak with Cadsuane,\" Nynaeve growled.\n\n\"Cadsuane Sedai, she has no business with you right now,\" Merise said, moving to close the cottage door. \"Return tomorrow, and perhaps she will see you.\"\n\n\"Rand al'Thor just burned an entire palace full of people from existence with balefire,\" Nynaeve said, loud enough to be heard by those inside the cottage. \"I was with him.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Merise froze.\n\n\"Let her in,\" Cadsuane's voice said from inside. Reluctantly, Merise pulled open the door. Inside, Min saw Cadsuane sitting on some cushions on the floor with Amys, Bair, Melaine and Sorilea. The front room-the main room-of the cottage was decorated with a simple brown rug on the floor, mostly obscured by the seated women. A gray stone fireplace burned with a calm flame at the back, the wood nearly consumed, the fire low. A stool satin the corner, with a pot of tea on it.\n\nNynaeve barely gave the Wise Ones a glance. She pushed her way into the cottage, and Min followed more hesitantly.\n\n\"Tell us of this event, child,\" Sorilea said. \"We felt the world warping from here, but did not know what had caused it. We assumed it to be the Dark One's work.\"\n\n\"I'll tell you,\" Nynaeve said, then took a deep breath, \"but I want to be apart of your plans.\"\n\n\"We shall see,\" Cadsuane said. \"Relate your experience.\"\n\nMin took a seat on a wooden stool at the side of the room as Nynaeve gave her account of Natrin's Barrow. The Wise Ones listened, tight-lipped. Cadsuane just nodded occasionally. Merise, face full of horror, refilled cups of tea from the pot on the stool-by the smell it was Tremalking black-then set it to hang by the fire. Nynaeve finished, still standing.\n\nOh, Rand, Min thought. This must be tearing you apart inside. But she could feel him through the bond; his emotions seemed very cold.\n\n\"You were wise to come to us with this, child,\" Sorilea said to Nynaeve. \"You may withdraw.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve's eyes opened wide with anger. \"But-\"\n\n\"Sorilea,\" Cadsuane said calmly, cutting Nynaeve off. \"This child could be of use to our plans. She is still close to the al'Thor boy; he trusted her enough to take her with him this evening.\"\n\nSorilea glanced toward the other Wise Ones. Aged Bair and sun-haired Melaine both nodded. Amys seemed thoughtful, but did not object.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" Sorilea said. \"But can she be obedient?\"\n\n\"Well?\" Cadsuane asked of Nynaeve. They all seemed to be ignoring Min. \"Can you?\"\n\nNynaeve's eyes were still wide with anger. Light, Min thought. Nynaeve? Obey Cadsuane and the others? She's going to explode at them!\n\nNynaeve tugged on her braid with a white-knuckled grip. \"Yes, Cadsuane Sedai,\" she said through clenched teeth. \"I can.\"\n\nThe Wise Ones seemed surprised to hear her speak the words, but Cadsuane nodded again, as if she'd expected that response. Who could expect Nynaeve to be so... well, reasonable?\n\n\"Sit down, child,\" Cadsuane said with a wave of the hand. \"Let's see if you can follow orders. You might be the only one of the current crop who is salvageable.\" That made Merise flush.\n\n\"No, Cadsuane,\" Amys said. \"Not the only one. Egwene has much honor.\"\n\nThe other two Wise Ones nodded.\n\n\"What is the plan?\" Nynaeve said.\n\n\"Your part in it is-\" Cadsuane began." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Wait,\" Nynaeve said. \"My part? I want to hear the whole thing.\"\n\n\"You'll hear when we're ready to tell you,\" Cadsuane said curtly. \"And don't make me regret my decision to speak in your behalf.\"\n\nNynaeve forced her mouth shut, eyes aflame. But she did not snap at them.\n\n\"Your part,\" Cadsuane continued, \"is to find Perrin Aybara.\"\n\n\"What goodwill that do?\" Nynaeve asked, then added, \"Cadsuane Sedai.\"\n\n\"That is our business,\" Cadsuane said. \"He has been traveling in the south recently, but we can't discover exactly where. The al'Thor boy might know where he is. Find out for us, and perhaps I'll explain the point.\"\n\nNynaeve nodded reluctantly, and the others turned to a discussion of how much strain from balefire the Pattern could take before unraveling completely. Nynaeve listened in silence, obviously trying to glean more about Cadsuane's plan, though there didn't seem to be many clues.\n\nMin only half-listened. Whatever the plan, someone would need to watch out for Rand. His deed this day would be destroying him inside, no matter what he proclaimed. There were plenty of others worrying about what he would do at the Last Battle. It washer job to get him to that Last Battle alive and sane, with his soul in one piece.\n\nSomehow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Egwene, see reason,\" Siuan said, faintly translucent because of the ter'angreal ring she had used to enter Tel'aran'rhiod. \"What good can you do, rotting in that cell? Elaida will see that you're never let free, not after what you said you did at that dinner.\" Siuan shook her head. \"Mother, sometimes you just have to face truth. You can only repair a net so many times before you need to toss the thing aside and weave anew one.\"\n\nEgwene sat on a three-legged stool in the corner of the room, the front part of a cobbler's shop. She'd chosen the location at random, just in case, eschewing a location in the White Tower itself. The Forsaken knew that Egwene and the others walked the World of Dreams.\n\nWith Siuan, Egwene could be more relaxed, more her real self. The two of them both understood that Egwene was now the Amyrlin and Siuan her lesser, but at the same time, they shared a bond. A camaraderie due to the station they both had filled. That bond, strangely, had turned into something akin to friendship.\n\nAt the moment, Egwene was nearly ready to strangle her friend. \"We've been over this,\" she said firmly. \"I cannot flee. Each day I spend imprisoned-but do not break-is another blow to Elaida's rule. If I disappear before her trial, it will undermine everything we've worked for!\"\n\n\"The trial will be a sham, Mother,\" Siuan said. \"And if it isn't, the punishment will be light. From what you've told me, she didn't break any bones when she beat you-why, she didn't break the skin.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was true. Egwene's bleeding had been from broken glass, not Elaida's stripes.\n\n\"Even a formal censure from the Hall will undermine her,\" Egwene said. \"My resistance, my refusal to break my imprisonment, means something. The Sitters themselves come to visit me! If I were to flee, it would look as though I'd given into Elaida.\"\n\n\"Didn't she declare you a Darkfriend?\" Siuan asked pointedly.\n\nEgwene hesitated. Yes, Elaida had done that. But she didn't have proof for it.\n\nTower law was intricate, and sorting out the proper punishments and interpretations could be complicated. The Three Oaths would have prevented Elaida from using the One Power as a weapon, and so Elaida must have thought that what she was doing wasn't a violation. Either she had gone farther than she'd planned, or she saw Egwene as a Darkfriend. She could argue for either position to defend herself; the latter would relieve her of the most guilt, but the former would be much easier to prove.\n\n\"She could succeed at having you convicted,\" Siuan said, apparently thinking along the same lines. \"You would be slated for execution. What then?\"\n\n\"She won't succeed. She hasn't any proof that I am a Darkfriend, and so the Hall will never allow it.\"\n\n\"And if you're wrong?\"\n\nEgwene hesitated. \"Very well. If the Hall decides that I am to be executed, I will let you get me out. But not until then, Siuan. Not until then.\"\n\nSiuan snorted. \"You might not have an opportunity, Mother. If Elaida cows them, she will act quickly. The woman's punishments can be swift as a stormwind, take you unaware. I know that for certain.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If that happens,\" Egwene said pointedly, \"my death would be a victory. Elaida would be the one who gave up, not I.\"\n\nSiuan shook her head, muttering, \"Stubborn as a mooring post.\"\n\n\"We are finished with that discussion, Siuan,\" Egwene said sternly.\n\nSiuan sighed, but said nothing further. She seemed to have too much nervous energy to sit, and ignored the stool on the other side of the room, instead going to standby the shop window to Egwene's right.\n\nThe cobbler's salesroom showed signs of great traffic. A stout counter divided the room in half, the wall behind pocketed with dozens of shoe-sized nooks. At times, most of these were stuffed with sturdy work shoes of leather or canvas, laces hanging down the front or buckles gleaming in the phantom light of Tel'aran'rhiod. Yet each time Egwene glanced at the wall, the shoes had shifted, some vanishing, others appearing. They must not stay long in their cubbyholes in the real world, for they left only vague images behind in the world of dreams.\n\nThe front half of the shop was crowded with stools for customers to use. The shoes on the back wall were of different designs and patterns, along with test shoes for sizing. A person came into the shop, tried on the sizing shoes, then picked a style. The cobbler-or, likely, his assistants-would then craft a pair for later pickup. The wide glass windows at the front proclaimed the name of the cobbler in white painted letters to be Naorman Mashinta, and a smaller number'three\" had been painted beside the name. This was the third generation of Mashintas to run the shop. Not uncommon at all among townsfolk. In fact, the part of Egwene that was still influenced by the Two Rivers found it odd that anyone would consider leaving their parent's trade for another, unless they were a third or fourth child." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Now that we've dealt with the obvious,\" Egwene said, \"what news is there?\"\n\n\"Well,\" Siuan said, leaning on the window and staring out at the eerily empty Tar Valon street. \"An old acquaintance of yours recently arrived in camp.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Egwene asked absently. \"Who?\"\n\n\"Gawyn Trakand.\"\n\nEgwene started. That was impossible! Gawyn had sided with Elaida's faction during the rebellion. He wouldn't have come over to the rebel side. Had he been captured? But that wasn't how Siuan had phrased it.\n\nFora moment, Egwene was a trembling girl, caught in the power of his whispered promises. She managed to keep her form locked into that of the Amyrlin, however, and forced her thoughts back to the moment, driving herself to be casual as she responded. \"Gawyn?\" she asked. \"How odd. I wouldn't have thought to find him there.\"\n\nSiuan smiled. \"That was nicely handled,\" she said. \"Though you paused too long, and when you did ask for him, you were overly uninterested. That made you easy to read.\"\n\n\"Light blind you,\" Egwene said. \"Another test? Is he really there?\"\n\n\"I hold to the oaths, thank you,\" Siuan said, affronted. Egwene was one of the few who knew that, as a result of her stilling and Healing, Siuan had been released from the Three Oaths. But, like Egwene, she chose not to lie anyway.\n\n\"Either way,\" Egwene said, \"I should think that the time for testing me has passed.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Everyone you meet will always be testing you, Mother,\" Siuan said. \"You must be prepared for surprises; at any moment someone could throw one at you just to see how you respond.\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" Egwene said coldly. \"But I really don't need the reminder.\"\n\n\"Don't you?\" Siuan said. \"Sounds a little like something Elaida would say.\"\n\n\"That's unfair!\"\n\n\"Prove it,\" Siuan said smugly.\n\nEgwene forced herself to becalm. Siuan was right. Better to take the advice, particularly when it was good advice, than to complain. \"You are right, of course,\" Egwene said, smoothing out her dress across her knees as she also smoothed the frustration from her face. \"Tell me more of Gawyn's arrival.\"\n\n\"I don't know much more,\" Siuan confessed. \"I really should have mentioned it yesterday, but our meeting was cut short.\" They were meeting more often now-each night of Egwene's imprisonment-but yesterday something had awakened Siuan before they had finished talking. A bubble of evil in the rebel camp, she had reported, involving tents coming alive and trying to strangle people. Three had died, one of them Aes Sedai.\n\n\"Anyway,\" Siuan continued, \"Gawyn hasn't said much that I could hear. I think he's here because he heard that you were captured. He arrived with a spectacular flurry, but now he stays in Bryne's command post, visiting the Aes Sedai regularly. He's mulling over something; keeps going to speak to Romanda and Lelaine.\"\n\n\"That's troubling.\"\n\n\"Well, they are the obvious power in camp,\" Siuan said. \"Save when Sheriam and the others can wrench some authority away. Things haven't gone well without you; the camp needs leadership. Actually, we crave it, as a starving fisherman craves a catch. Aes Sedai area people of order, I suppose. It-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She stopped herself. Likely, she had been about to bully Egwene again to accept rescue. She glanced at Egwene, then continued. \"Well, it will be good for us when you return, Mother. The longer you stay away, the stronger the factions become. You can almost seethe lines down the middle of the camp now. Romanda on one side, Lelaine on the other, with a shrinking slice that doesn't want to take sides.\"\n\n\"We cannot afford another division,\" Egwene said. \"Not among ourselves; we have to prove stronger than Elaida.\"\n\n\"At least our splits aren't along the lines of Ajah,\" Siuan said defensively.\n\n\"Factions and breaks,\" Egwene said, getting up. \"Infighting and squabbling. We are better than this, Siuan. Tell the Hall that I wish to meet with them. Perhaps in two days. Tomorrow, you and I should meet again.\"\n\nSiuan nodded hesitantly. \"Very well.\"\n\nEgwene eyed her. \"You think it unwise?\"\n\n\"No,\" Siuan said. \"I worry about how hard you're pushing yourself. The Amyrlin needs to learn to ration her strength; some in your place have failed not because they lacked the capacity for greatness, but because they stretched that capacity too thin, sprinting when they should have walked.\"\n\nEgwene refrained from pointing out that Siuan herself had spent much of her tenure as Amyrlin sprinting at a breakneck speed. But it could very well be argued that Siuan had stretched herself too thin, and had fallen as a result. Who better to speak on the dangers of such activities than one who had been burned by them so deeply?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The advice is appreciated, daughter,\" Egwene said. \"But really, there is little to worry about. My days are spent in solitude, with the occasional beating to provide spice. These meetings at night help me survive.\" She shivered, glancing away from Siuan, out the window toward the dirty, vacant street.\n\n\"Is it difficult to endure?\" Siuan asked softly.\n\n\"The cell is narrow enough for me to touch opposite walls at once,\" Egwene said. \"And isn't very long, either. When I lie down, I have to bend my knees to fit. I can't stand, since the ceiling is so low it makes me stoop, and I can't sit without pain, for they no longer Heal me between beatings. The straw is old and itches. The door is thick and the cracks don't allow in much light. I wasn't aware that the Tower had cells such as this one.\" She glanced back at Siuan. \"Once I am upheld fully as Amyrlin, this room and any like it will be removed, the doors ripped out and the cells themselves filled with bricks and mortar.\"\n\nSiuan nodded. \"We'll make certain of it.\"\n\nEgwene turned away again, and noticed with shame that she'd let her gown shift to the cadin'sor of an Aiel Maiden, complete with spears and bow at her back. She forced the clothing back, taking a deep breath. \"No person should be kept in such a manner,\" she said, \"not even....\"\n\nSiuan frowned as Egwene trailed off. \"What was that?\"\n\nEgwene shook her head. \"It just occurred tome. This is what it must have been like for Rand. No, worse. The stories say he was locked in a box smaller than my cell. At least I can spend part of the evenings chatting with you. He had nobody. He was without the belief that his beatings meant something.\" Light send that she didn't have to endure as long as he had. Her imprisonment had only been a few days so far." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Siuan fell silent.\n\n\"Regardless,\" Egwene said, \"I have Tel'aran'rhiod. During the days, my body is captive, but my soul is free at night. And each day I endure is another proof that Elaida's will is not law. She cannot break me. Her support from the others is eroding. Trust me.\"\n\nSiuan nodded. \"Very well,\" she said, rising. \"You are Amyrlin.\"\n\n\"Of course I am,\" Egwene said absently.\n\n\"No, Egwene,\" Siuan said. \"I meant that from the heart.\"\n\nEgwene turned, surprised. \"But you've always believed in me!\"\n\nSiuan raised an eyebrow.\n\n\"At least,\" Egwene said, \"from fairly near the beginning.\"\n\n\"I always believed you had potential,\" Siuan corrected. \"Well, you've fulfilled it. Some of it at least. Enough of it. However this storm blows through, you've proven one thing. You deserved the place you hold. Light, girl, you may end up being the best Amyrlin this world has known this side of Artur Hawkwing's reign!\" She hesitated. \"And that's not an easy thing for me to admit, mind you.\"\n\nEgwene took Siuan's arms, smiling. Why, Siuan almost looked teary-eyed with pride! \"All I did was get myself locked in a cell.\"\n\n\"And you did it like an Amyrlin, Egwene,\" Siuan said. \"But I should begetting back. Some of us can't spend our days relaxing the way you can. We need real sleep, otherwise we're likely to fall unconscious in our washwater.\" She grimaced, releasing herself from Egwene's hands." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You could just tell him to-\"\n\n\"Now, I'll have none of that,\" Siuan said, wagging a finger at Egwene. Had she forgotten that she'd just been complimenting Egwene's stature as an Amyrlin? \"I gave my word, and I'll be fish guts before I'll break it.\"\n\nEgwene blinked. \"I wouldn't dream of making you,\" she said, covering a smile as she noticed that Siuan's shadowy form now had a bright red ribbon in its hair. \"Off with you, then.\"\n\nSiuan nodded sharply, then sat down and closed her eyes. She faded slowly from Tel'aran'rhiod.\n\nEgwene hesitated, watching the area where Siuan had been. It was probably time to return to normal dreaming, letting her mind restore itself. But returning to her normal dreams would be a step toward waking, and when she woke she would find only that cramped dungeon and its stuffy darkness. She longed to stay in the World of Dreams just a little longer. She thought of visiting Elayne's dreams to ask fora meeting... but no, that would take too much time, assuming Elayne could make her dream ter'angreal work. She rarely could, these days.\n\nShe found herself stepping away from Tar Valon, the cobbler's shop vanishing around her.\n\nShe appeared in the rebel Aes Sedai camp. A foolish place to visit, perhaps. If there were Darkfriends or Forsaken in the World of Dreams, they could very well be studying this camp and looking for information, much as Egwene sometimes visited the Amyrlin's study in Tel'aran'rhiod to search for clues on Elaida's plans. But Egwene needed to come here. She didn't question why; she simply felt that it was true." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The streets of the camp were muddy, worn in ruts from passing wagons. Once just afield, the area had been appropriated by the Aes Sedai and turned into... something. Part a place of war, with Bryne's soldiers camped in a ring about them. Part town, though no town had ever boasted such a complement of Aes Sedai, novices and Accepted. Part monument to the weakness of the White Tower.\n\nEgwene walked the camp's main thoroughfare, where weeds had been trampled to mud, then mud worn into a road. Walkways lined it, and tents covered the flatland beyond. There were no people, only the occasional fleeting glimpse of a sleeper who had stumbled into Tel'aran'rhiod. Here, a brief flash of a woman in a fine green gown. A dreaming Aes Sedai, perhaps, though it was just as likely to be a serving maid imagining herself to be a queen. There, a woman in white-a woman with stringy blond hair who was far too old to be a novice. That no longer mattered. The novice book should have long ago been opened to all. The White Tower was too weak to turn down any source of strength.\n\nBoth women were gone almost as quickly as they appeared. Few dreamers stayed long in Tel'aran'rhiod; to remain longer, one needed either a particular skill like Egwene's or a ter'angreal like the ring Siuan used. There was a third way. Getting caught up in a living nightmare. There were none of the latter about, thank the Light.\n\nThe camp seemed strange to be so deserted. Egwene had long since stopped being unnerved by the eerie lack of people in Tel'aran'rhiod. But this camp was different somehow. It looked as a war camp might after all of the soldiers had been slaughtered on the battlefield. Deserted, yet still a banner to proclaim the lives of those who had occupied it. Egwene felt as if she could seethe division that Siuan had talked about, tents clumped together like bunches of sprouting flowers." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With individuals removed, she could seethe patterns and the troubles they bespoke. Egwene might denounce Elaida for the rifts among the Ajahs in the White Tower, but Egwene's own Aes Sedai were beginning to fracture as well. Well, three Aes Sedai could hardly gather without two of them making an alliance. It was healthy to have the women planning and preparing; the trouble was when they began to regard others of their kind as enemies, rather than just rivals.\n\nSiuan was right, unfortunately. Egwene could not spend much more time setting her hopes on reconciliation. What if the White Tower didn't unseat Elaida? What if, despite Egwene's progress, the rifts between the Ajahs never healed? What then? Go to war?\n\nThere was another option, one that none of them had brought up: that of giving upon reconciliation permanently. Setting up a second White Tower. It would mean leaving the Aes Sedai broken, perhaps forever. Egwene shuddered at the prospect, and her skin itched, rebelling against the thought.\n\nBut what if she had no other choice? She had to consider the ramifications, and she found them daunting. How could they encourage the Kin or the Wise Ones to tie themselves to the Aes Sedai if the Aes Sedai themselves were not unified? The two White Towers would become opposed forces, confusing the leaders of men as rival Amyrlins tried to use nations for their own purposes. Allies and enemies alike would lose their awe of the Aes Sedai, and kings very well might startup their own centers for women talented in channeling.\n\nEgwene steeled herself, walking on the muddy road, the tents along the way changing, their flaps open, then closed, then open again in the strange ephemeral way of the World of Dreams. Egwene felt the Amyrlin's stole appear around her neck, too heavy, as if woven with lead weights." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Support the writer, proceed with the storyline.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, last battle\nAuthor: Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson\nTitle: The Gathering Storm\nChapter: 54" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand rode Tai'daishar out into the hollow, the horse's hooves stirring fallen leaves as he worked his way through the underbrush. Nynaeve followed, trying to urge her docile mare to keep up with Rand. That stablemaster was going to hear from her for certain. His ears would burn when she was through with him!\n\nHurin trotted his horse out as well, and the Aiel loped along, subtly keeping him surrounded. They had their faces veiled, spears or bows in hand. Past the trees and underbrush, Rand stopped Tai'daishar, looking across the open meadow toward the ancient city of Far Madding.\n\nIt wasn't large, not by the measure of the Great Cities. Nor was it beautiful, not when compared with the Ogier-built wonders Nynaeve had seen. But it was big enough, and it was certainly home to fine architecture and ancient relics. Set upon an island in a lake, it was actually faintly reminiscent of Tar Valon. Three broad bridges crossed the calm waters, and were the only means of entering the city.\n\nAvery large army was encamped around the lake, perhaps covering more ground than Far Madding itself. Nynaeve counted dozens of different pennons marking dozens of different houses. There were lines upon lines of horses, and tents like rows of summer crops, carefully planted and organized, awaiting harvest. The Borderlander army.\n\n\"I've heard of this place,\" Naeff said, riding up, close-cropped, dark brown hair ruffling in the wind. He narrowed his eyes, rectangular face dissatisfied. \"It's like a stedding, only not as safe.\"\n\nFar Madding's massive ter'angreal-known as the Guardian-created invisible protective bubbles that blocked people from touching the One Power. That could be worked around through the use of a very specialized ter'angreal, one of which Nynaeve happened to be wearing. But it would help only slightly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The army looked close enough to be within the bubble that prevented men from channeling, which extended about a mile out around the city.\n\n\"They will know we've come,\" Rand said softly, eyes narrowed. \"They'll have been waiting for it. They expect me to ride into their box.\"\n\n\"Box?\" Nynaeve asked hesitantly.\n\n\"The city is a box,\" Rand said. \"The whole city and the area round it. They want me where they can control me, but they don't understand. Nobody controls me. Not anymore. I've had enough of boxes and prisons, of chains and ropes. Never again will I put myself into the power of another.\"\n\nStill staring at the city, he reached to its place on his saddle and removed the statuette of a man holding aloft a globe. Nynaeve felt a sharp chill. Did he have to bring that with him everywhere he went?\n\n\"Perhaps they need to be taught,\" Rand said. \"Given encouragement to do their duty and obey me.\"\n\n\"Rand....\" Nynaeve tried to think. She couldn't let this happen again!\n\nThe access key began to glow faintly. \"They want to capture me,\" he said softly. \"Hold me. Beat me. They did it once in Far Madding already. They-\"\n\n\"Rand!\" Nynaeve said sharply.\n\nHe stopped, looking at her, seeing her as if for the first time.\n\n\"These are not slaves with their minds already burned away by Graendal. That is an entire city full of innocent people!\"\n\n\"I wouldn't harm the people of the city,\" Rand said, voice emotionless. \"That army deserves the demonstration, not the city. A rain of fire upon them, perhaps. Or lightning to strike and bite.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"They have done nothing other than ask you to meet with them!\" Nynaeve said, edging her horse closer to him. That ter'angreal sat like a viper in his hand. Once, it had cleansed the Source. If only it had melted away as the female one had!\n\nShe wasn't certain what would happen if he aimed a weave into the protective bubble of Far Madding, but she suspected it would still work. The Guardian didn't stop weaves from being made; Nynaeve had been able to craft weaves just fine, when she'd drawn upon her Well.\n\nEither way, she knew that she had to stop Rand from turning his anger-or whatever it was he felt-upon his allies. \"Rand,\" she said softly. \"If you do this, there will be no turning back.\"\n\n\"There's already no turning back for me, Nynaeve,\" he said, his eyes intense. Those eyes shifted, sometimes seeming gray, sometimes blue. Today, they looked iron gray. He continued, voice flat. \"My feet started on this path the moment Tam found me crying on that mountain.\"\n\n\"You don't have to kill anyone today. Please.\"\n\nHe turned to look back at the city. Slowly, mercifully, the access key stopped glowing. \"Hurin!\" he barked.\n\nHe must be close to fraying, Nynaeve thought. His anger is slipping out in his voice.\n\nThe thief-taker rode up to the front of the group. The Aiel kept their distance, however. \"Yes, Lord Rand?\"\n\n\"Return to your masters inside of their box,\" Rand said, voice under control again. \"You are to give them a message for me.\"\n\n\"What message, Lord Rand?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand hesitated, then slipped the access key back in its place. \"Tell them that it will not belong before the Dragon Reborn rides to battle at Shayol Ghul. If they wish to return to their posts with honor, I will provide them with transport back to the Blight. Otherwise, they can remain here, hiding. Let them explain to their children and grandchildren why they were hundreds of leagues away from their posts when the Dark One was slain and the prophecies fulfilled.\"\n\nHurin looked shaken. \"Yes, Lord Rand.\"\n\nWith that, Rand turned his horse about and rode back toward the clearing. Nynaeve followed, too slowly. Beautiful though Moonlight was, she'd have traded the beautiful mare in an instant fora biddable, dependable Two Rivers horse like Bela.\n\nHurin stayed behind. He still looked shaken. His reunion with'Lord Rand\" had obviously been far from what he expected. Nynaeve gritted her teeth as the trees obscured her view of him. Inside the clearing, Rand had opened another gateway, a direct gateway to Tear.\n\nThey rode out into the Traveling ground prepared outside the Stone of Tear's stableyards. The air was hot and muggy in Tear, despite the overcast sky, and thick with the sounds of men training and gulls shrieking. Rand rode out to where stablehands waited, then dismounted, his face unreadable.\n\nAs Nynaeve climbed off of Moonlight and handed the reins to a ruddy-faced stable worker, Rand walked past her. \"Look fora statue,\" he said.\n\n\"What?\" she asked with surprise.\n\nHe glanced back at her, stopping. \"You asked where Perrin was. He's camped with an army beneath the shade of an enormous fallen statue shaped like a sword stabbing the earth. I'm certain scholars here can tell you where it is; it's very distinctive.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"How..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "how do you know that?\"\n\nRand just shrugged. \"I just do.\"\n\n\"Why tell me?\" she asked, walking alongside him across the yard of packed earth. She hadn't expected him to give up the information-he had gotten into the habit of holding onto whatever he knew, even if that knowledge was meaningless.\n\n\"Because,\" he said, striding toward the keep, voice growing almost too soft to hear, \"I... have a debt to you for caring when I cannot. If you seek Perrin out, tell him that I will soon need him.\"\n\nWith that, he left her.\n\nNynaeve stood in the horse yard, watching him go. There was a wet scent to the air, the smell of new rain, and she could feel that she'd missed a sprinkle. Not enough to clear the air or muddy the ground, but enough to leave wetted sections of stone in shaded corners. To her right, men galloped and exercised horses beneath the dun sky, riding across sandy earth between pickets. The Stone was the only fortress she knew of with exercise areas for cavalry-but, then, the Stone was far from ordinary.\n\nThe rumble of hoofbeats was like the sound of a distant storm, and she found herself glancing northward. The storm there felt closer than it had before. She'd assumed it was gathering in the Blight, but now she wasn't so certain.\n\nShe took a deep breath, then hastened to the keep. She passed Defenders in their immaculate uniforms, the upper arm portions ribbed and puffy, breastplates smooth and curved. She passed stableboys, each probably dreaming of one day wearing that same uniform, but for now only leading horses back to the stables for hay and currying. She passed dozens of servants in linens, doubtless far more comfortable than Nynaeve's maroon wool." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The keep itself was a towering rock of a structure, sheer walls broken only by windows. Except that she could still spot the place where Mat had destroyed a section of stone with his Illuminator's fireworks when coming to rescue Nynaeve and the others from their imprisonment. Fool boy. Where was he? She hadn't seen him in... in quite along time. Since Ebou Dar had fallen to the Seanchan. Ina way, she felt as though she'd abandoned him, though she'd never admit that. Why, she'd embarrassed herself enough in front of the Daughter of the Nine Moons when she'd defended that scoundrel! She still didn't know what had come over her.\n\nMat could care for himself. He was probably carousing in some inn while the rest of them worked to save the world-drinking himself silly and playing at dice. Rand was another matter. He'd been so much easier to deal with when he'd continued to act like other men-stubborn and immature, but predictable. This new Rand with the cold emotions and the cold voice was truly unnerving.\n\nThe narrow corridors of the Stone were still unfamiliar to Nynaeve, and she often got lost. Her disorientation wasn't helped by the fact that hallways and walls sometimes changed places. She'd tried to discount such tales as superstitious nonsense, but the day before, she'd woken to discover that her room had indeed suddenly and mysteriously moved. Her door had opened to a smooth wall of the same seamless rock as the Stone itself. She'd been forced to escape through a gateway, and had been shocked to learn that her window looked out from a location two stories higher than it had the previous night!\n\nCadsuane said it was the Dark One's touch on the world, causing the Pattern to unravel. Cadsuane said a lot of things, and few of them were things that Nynaeve wished to hear." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Nynaeve got lost twice as she wove her way through the corridors, but she eventually arrived at Cadsuane's room." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At least Rand hadn't forbidden his stewards to grant her rooms. Nynaeve knocked-she'd learned that she'd better-then entered.\n\nThe Aes Sedai from Cadsuane's group-Merise and Corele-satin the room, knitting and sipping tea, trying to look like they were not waiting on the infernal woman's whims. Cadsuane herself was speaking quietly with Min, whom she had all but appropriated in recent days. Min herself didn't seem to mind, perhaps because it wasn't easy to spend time with Rand these days. Nynaeve felt a stab of sympathy for the girl. Nynaeve only had to deal with Rand as a friend; all of this would be much harsher on the one who shared his heart.\n\nAll eyes turned toward Nynaeve as she closed the door. \"I think I've found him,\" she announced.\n\n\"Who is that, child?\" Cadsuane said, leafing through one of Min's books.\n\n\"Perrin,\" Nynaeve said. \"You were right; Rand did know where he was.\"\n\n\"Excellent!\" Cadsuane said. \"You did well; it appears that you can be of use.\"\n\nNynaeve wasn't certain which annoyed her more-the backhanded compliment, or the fact that her heart swelled with pride at hearing it. She was no girl, without her braid, to be stroked by this woman's words!\n\n\"Well?\" Cadsuane looked up from the book. The others remained silent, though Min did shoot Nynaeve a congratulatory smile. \"Where is he?\"\n\nNynaeve's opened her mouth to reply before she caught herself. What was it about this woman that made her want to obey? It wasn't the One Power or anything to do with it. Cadsuane simply projected the air of astern, but fair, grandmother. The type you never spoke back to, but who would give you some baked sweets in reward for sweeping the floor when told." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"First, I want to know why Perrin is important.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nynaeve stalked into the room and took the only remaining seat, a painted wooden stool. When she sat, she found herself sitting a few inches below eye level. Like a student before Cadsuane. She almost stood up, but realized that would draw more attention.\n\n\"Phaw!\" Cadsuane said. \"You'd hold this knowledge back, even if it means the lives of those you hold dear?\"\n\n\"I want to know what I've gotten myself into,\" Nynaeve said stubbornly. \"I want to know that this information isn't going to end up hurting Rand further.\"\n\nCadsuane snorted. \"You presume to think that I'd hurt the fool boy?\"\n\n\"I'm not going to presume otherwise,\" Nynaeve snapped. \"Not until you tell me what you are doing.\"\n\nCadsuane closed the book-Echoes of His Dynasty-and looked perturbed. \"Will you at least tell me how the meeting with the Borderlanders went?\" she asked. \"Or is that information held for ransom as well?\"\n\nDid she think she'd distract Nynaeve that easily? \"It went poorly, as one might expect,\" she said. \"They've hunkered down outside Far Madding and refuse to meet with Rand unless he comes within range of the Guardian, cutting himself off from the Source.\"\n\n\"Did he take it well?\" Corele asked from her cushioned bench at the side of the room. She smiled faintly; she seemed to be the only one who thought the changes in Rand were amusing, rather than terrifying. But, then, she was one of the women who had bonded an Asha'man at practically the first opportunity.\n\n\"Did he take it well?\" Nynaeve repeated flatly. \"That depends. Does pulling out that blasted ter'angreal and threatening to rain down fire on the army strike you as'Taking it well'?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Min paled. Cadsuane raised an eyebrow.\n\n\"I stopped him,\" Nynaeve said. \"But just barely. I don't know. It... it might begetting too late to do anything to change him.\"\n\n\"That boy will laugh again,\" Cadsuane said quietly, but intensely. \"I didn't live this long to fail now.\"\n\n\"What does it matter?\" Corele said.\n\nNynaeve turned in shock.\n\n\"Well?\" Corele set down her mending. \"What does it matter? We're obviously going to succeed.\"\n\n\"Light!\" Nynaeve said. \"What gave you that idea?\"\n\n\"We've just spent all afternoon drilling this girl about her visions.\" Corele nodded to Min. \"They always come true, and she's seen things that obviously can't happen until after the Last Battle. So we know that Rand is going to defeat the Dark One. The Pattern has already decided it. We can stop worrying.\"\n\n\"No,\" Min said. \"You're wrong.\"\n\nCorele frowned. \"Child, are you saying that you lied about the things you've seen?\"\n\n\"No,\" Min said. \"But if Rand loses, there is no Pattern.\"\n\n\"The girl is correct.\" Cadsuane sounded surprised. \"What this child sees are weavings in the Pattern from a time still distant-but if the Dark One wins, he will destroy the Pattern entirely. This is the only way the visions could fail to occur. The same holds for other prophecies and Foretellings. Our victory is by no means sure.\"\n\nThat stilled the room. They weren't playing at village politics or national dominance. At stake was creation itself.\n\nLight. Can I withhold this information if there's any chance of it helping Lan? It wrenched her heart to think of him, and she had few options. In fact, Lan's only hope seemed to rest in the armies Rand could marshal and the gateways his people could form." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand had to change. For Lan. For them all. And she had no idea what to do other than, unfortunately, to trust Cadsuane. Nynaeve swallowed her pride and spoke. \"Do you know the location of a statue of an enormous sword, fallen to the earth as if stabbing it?\"\n\nCorele and Merise glanced at each other in confusion.\n\n\"The hand of the amahn'rukane.\" Cadsuane turned from Min with a raised eyebrow. \"The full statue was never finished, from what scholars can tell. It rests near the Jehannah Road.\"\n\n\"Perrin is camping in its shadow.\"\n\nCadsuane pursed her lips. \"I assumed he would go eastward, toward lands al'Thor has captured.\" She took a deep breath. \"All right. We are going for him right now.\" She hesitated, then glanced at Nynaeve. \"In answer to your question earlier, child, Perrin actually isn't important to our plans.\"\n\n\"He isn't?\" Nynaeve asked. \"But-\"\n\nCadsuane raised a finger. \"There are people with him who are vital. One in particular.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Egwene walked slowly through the rebel camp, wearing a crimson gown, its skirts divided for riding. The color raised not a few eyebrows. Considering what the Red Ajah had done, these Aes Sedai weren't likely to wear the hue. Even the camp's serving women had noticed, selling their red and maroon dresses or cutting them up for rags.\n\nEgwene had asked for the crimson specifically. In the Tower, sisters had formed the habit of wearing only their own Ajah's color, and the practice had helped fuel the division. While it was good to be proud of your Ajah affiliation, it was dangerous to begin assuming that you couldn't trust anyone wearing other colors.\n\nEgwene was all Ajahs. Today, the red symbolized many things to her. The impending reunification with the Red Ajah. A reminder of the division that needed to be righted. A sign of the blood that would be spilled, the blood of good men who fought to defend the White Tower.\n\nThe blood of the dead Aes Sedai, beheaded not an hour ago by Egwene's order.\n\nSiuan had found her Great Serpent ring; it felt very good to have it on her finger again.\n\nThe sky was an iron gray, and the scent of dirt rose into the air, accompanying the bustling motion around the camp. Women hurriedly washed clothing, as if they were late in getting their patrons ready fora festival. Novices ran-literally ran-from lesson to lesson. Aes Sedai stood about with arms folded, eyes ready to burn any who didn't keep up the tempo.\n\nThey sense the tension of the day, Egwene thought. And can't help but be made anxious by it. The night before, with its attack by the Seanchan. Followed by the return of the Amyrlin, who had spent the morning cleansing the Aes Sedai. And now afternoon, and the beating drums of war." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She doubted that Bryne's own camp was in such a state. He'd have his men ready for attack; he probably could have assaulted the White Tower at a moment's notice on any given day of the siege. His soldiers would decide this war. Egwene would not have her Aes Sedai riding into battle, wriggling around their oaths not to use the Power to kill. They would wait here, to be called only for Healing.\n\nOr called if the White Tower sisters joined the fight in earnest. Light send that Elaida saw wisdom in forbidding that. If the Aes Sedai turned the Power against one another, it would be a dark day indeed.\n\nCan this day grow any darker? Egwene wondered. Many of the Aes Sedai she passed in the camp gave her looks of respect, awe, and a little horror. After along absence, the Amyrlin had returned. And she had brought destruction and judgment in her wake.\n\nOver fifty Black Sisters had been stilled, then executed. Egwene felt sick, thinking of their deaths. Sheriam had seemed almost relieved when her turn came, though she'd soon begun to struggle, sobbing and desperate. She'd confessed to several disturbing crimes, as if hoping that her willingness to speak would gain her amnesty.\n\nThey'd placed her head on the block and taken it off, just like the others. That scene would always be vivid in Egwene's mind-her former Keeper, lying with her head pressed against the stump, blue dress and fiery red hair suddenly bathed in warm golden light as a thinner section of clouds moved in front of the sun. Then the silvery axe, falling to claim her head. Perhaps the Pattern would be kinder to her next time she was allowed a thread in its great tapestry. But perhaps not. Death was not an escape from the Dark One. Sheriam's horror at the end indicated that she might have been thinking that very thing as the axe took her head." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now Egwene understood fully how the Aiel could laugh at a simple beating. Would that she could go through a few days beneath the rod rather than have to order the execution of women she had liked and worked with!\n\nSome of the Sitters had argued for interrogation instead of execution, but Egwene had been insistent. Fifty women were far too many to shield and guard, and now that they knew stilling could be Healed, that wasn't an option. No, history proved how slippery and dangerous members of the Black could be, and Egwene was tired of worrying about what could happen. She had learned with Moghedien that there was a price to be paid for greed, if just greed for information. She and the others had been too eager-too proud of the'discoveries\" they'd made-to seethe world rid of one of the Forsaken.\n\nWell, she would not allow a similar mistake here. The law was known, the Hall had made its judgment, and it had not been done in secret. Verin had died to stop these women, and Egwene would see that her sacrifice meant something.\n\nYou did well, Verin. So very well. Every Aes Sedai in the camp had been made to swear the Three Oaths over again, and only three members of the Black had been discovered beyond the ones Verin had located. Her research had been thorough.\n\nThe Blacks' Warders were under guard. They would have to be sorted through at a later date, when attention could be given to separating those who were really Black from those who were just enraged by the loss of their Aes Sedai. Most of them would seek death, even the innocent ones. Perhaps the innocent could be convinced to remain alive long enough to throw themselves into the Last Battle." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Nearly twenty of the Black sisters on Verin's list had still escaped, despite all of Egwene's precautions." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She wasn't certain how they had known. Bryne's guards had caught some weaker ones trying to flee, and soldiers had fallen to delay them. But many had still escaped.\n\nNo use crying over that. Fifty Black were dead; that was a victory. A frightening one. But a victory nonetheless.\n\nAnd so she walked through the camp, in riding boots and a dress of red, brown hair free to stream in the wind and tied with crimson ribbons to mark the streams of blood she had shed not an hour before. She did not blame the sisters around her for their sly glances, their masked concern, their fear. And their respect. If there had been any doubt that Egwene was Amyrlin, it had been dispelled. They accepted her, they feared her. And she would never quite fit in with them again. She was separate, and always would be.\n\nA determined figure in blue made her way through the tents and approached Egwene. The dignified woman curtsied appropriately, though since they were walking so quickly, Egwene didn't stop to let her kiss the Great Serpent ring. \"Mother,\" Lelaine said, \"Bryne sends word that all is at ready for the assault. He says that the western bridges would be the ideal point of attack, though he suggests that gateways be employed to send a flanking force of his men behind the White Tower lines. He asks if this would be possible.\"\n\nIt wasn't using the Power as a weapon, but it was close. A fine distinction. But being Aes Sedai was about fine distinctions. \"Tell him I will make the gateway myself,\" she said.\n\n\"Excellent, Mother,\" Lelaine said, bowing her head, the perfect, loyal attendant. It was remarkable, how quickly the woman's bearing toward Egwene had changed. She must have realized that her only choice was to attach herself to Egwene completely and give upon her attempts to secure power. This way, she didn't look like a hypocrite and would perhaps gain position through Egwene. Assuming Egwene was able to stabilize herself as a powerful Amyrlin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was a good assumption.\n\nLelaine must have been frustrated by Romanda's change of temperament. The Yellow waited beside the road ahead, as if on cue. She wore a dress after the color of her Ajah, hair back in a stately bun. She curtsied as Egwene reached her and barely spared a glance for Lelaine before falling into position on Egwene's right, away from Lelaine. \"Mother,\" Romanda said, \"I have made the inquires you requested. There has been no contact with those sent to the Black Tower. Not a whisper.\"\n\n\"Does this strike you as odd?\" Egwene asked.\n\n\"Yes, Mother. With Traveling they should have been there and back by now. They should have at least sent word. This silence is disturbing.\"\n\nDisturbing indeed. Even worse, that delegation contained Nisao, Myrelle, Faolain and Theodrin. Each of the women had sworn fealty to Egwene. An unsettling coincidence. The departure of Faolain and Theodrin was particularly suspicious. Supposedly, they had gone because they had no Warders, but the sisters in the camp didn't consider those two full Aes Sedai-though nobody would daresay such to Egwene directly.\n\nWhy had those four, out of the hundreds of Aes Sedai in the camp, been placed in the delegation? Was it mere coincidence? It stretched plausibility. But what did it mean, then? Had someone intentionally sent away those loyal to Egwene? If so, why not send Siuan? Was this perhaps Sheriam's work? The woman had confessed to several things before her execution, but this hadn't been one of them.\n\nEither way, something was happening with those Asha'man. The Black Tower would need to be dealt with." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Mother,\" Lelaine said, drawing her attention back. The Blue didn't glance at her rival. \"I have other news.\"\n\nRomanda sniffed quietly.\n\n\"Speak,\" Egwene said.\n\n\"Sheriam wasn't lying,\" Lelaine said. \"The ter'angreal used for dreams are gone. All of them.\"\n\n\"How is this possible?\" Egwene demanded, letting a hint of her anger slip out.\n\n\"Sheriam was Keeper, Mother,\" Lelaine said quickly. \"We kept the ter'angreal together, as is custom in the White Tower, under guard. But... well, what reason would those guards have had to turn Sheriam away?\"\n\n\"And what do you suppose she was planning to tell us?\" Egwene asked. \"This theft could not have been kept hidden for long.\"\n\n\"I don't know, Mother,\" Lelaine said, shaking her head. \"The guards said that Sheriam seemed... flustered... when she took the ter'angreal. This was just last night.\"\n\nEgwene clenched her teeth, thinking of Sheriam's final spilled confessions. The theft of the ter'angreal had been far from the most shocking tidbit she'd mentioned. Elayne would be livid; she had made all of the copies that were stolen. While none of her copies worked as well as the original, they worked well enough. She would not be happy that they were in the hands of a Forsaken.\n\n\"Mother,\" Lelaine said, more softly. \"What of Sheriam's... other claim?\"\n\n\"That one of the Forsaken is in the White Tower, impersonating an Aes Sedai?\" Egwene said. Sheriam claimed she'd given the ter'angreal to this... person." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lelaine and Romanda walked silently, both staring forward, as if speculation were too daunting.\n\n\"Yes, I suspect that she is right,\" Egwene said. \"They infiltrated not only our camp, but the aristocracies of Andor, Illian and Tear. Why not the White Tower as well?\" She didn't add that Verin's book confirmed the presence of one of the Forsaken. It seemed best to keep the extent of Verin's notes secret.\n\n\"I wouldn't worry about it too much,\" Egwene said. \"With the assault on the Tower, and our return, it seems likely that the Forsaken-whoever she is-will find it prudent to slip away and find an easier target for her scheming.\"\n\nLelaine and Romanda didn't seem comforted by that comment. The three of them reached the edge of the Aes Sedai camp, where mounts awaited them, as well as a large group of soldiers and one Sitter from each of the Ajahs, other than the Blue and Red. There wasn't a Blue because Lelaine was the only one remaining in camp; the reason there wasn't a Red was obvious. This was part of why Egwene had chosen to wear red, a subtle hint that all Ajahs should be represented in the action they were about to take. It was for the good of all.\n\nAs Egwene mounted, she noticed that Gawyn was following her, again, at a respectful distance. Where had he come from? They hadn't spoken since the early morning. As she mounted, so did he, and as she turned to ride out of camp with Lelaine, Romanda, the Sitters and the soldiers, Gawyn followed at a safe distance. Egwene wasn't certain what to do with him yet." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The army camp was mostly deserted. Tents sat empty, ground trampled by feet and hoofs, hardly any soldiers remaining behind. Egwene embraced the Source soon after leaving their camp, and she held to it, ready with weaves should someone attack her during the ride. She still didn't trust that Elaida wouldn't use a gateway to interfere with the assault. True, the false Amyrlin probably had her hands full with the aftermath of the Seanchan attack. But expectations like that one-assuming that she was safe-were what had gotten Egwene captured in the first place. She was Amyrlin. She couldn't risk herself. It was frustrating, but she knew that an end had come to her days of solitary action, striking out as she saw fit. She could have been killed, rather than captured, all those weeks ago. The Salidar rebellion would have floundered, and Elaida would have continued as Amyrlin.\n\nSo it was that her force rode up to the battle lines outside the village of Darein. The White Tower still smoldered, a wide field of smoke trailing up in a ring from the center of the island, shrouding the white spire. Even from a distance, the scars of the Seanchan attack were evident on the building. Blackened holes, like spots of corruption on an otherwise healthy apple. The Tower almost seemed to groan as she looked at it. It had stood for so long, had seen so much. Now it had been wounded so deeply that it still bled a day later.\n\nAnd yet it stood. Light bless them, it stood. It rose high, wounded but sound, pointing toward a sun hidden by clouds above. It stood defiant of those who would break it, within and without.\n\nBryne and Siuan waited for Egwene at the back of the army. A disparate couple they were. The battle-hardened general, with temples of gray and a face like an unyielding piece of armor. Strong, made of lines. And beside him Siuan, the diminutive woman in pale blue, her face lovely, looking young enough to be Bryne's granddaughter, for all the fact that they were near the same age." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Siuan made a horseback curtsy as Egwene approached, and Bryne saluted. His eyes were still troubled. He seemed ashamed of his part in the rescue, though Egwene bore him no grievance. He was a man of honor. If he had been bullied into coming along to protect foolhardy Siuan and Gawyn, then Bryne was to be commended for keeping them alive.\n\nAs Egwene joined them, she noted that Siuan and Bryne were riding close together. Had Siuan finally admitted her attraction to the man? And... there was a certain familiar grace to Bryne now. It was slight enough that she could have just been seeing things, but coupled with the relationship between the two....\n\n\"You've taken another Warder, at last?\" Egwene asked Siuan.\n\nThe woman narrowed her eyes. \"Aye,\" she said.\n\nBryne did seem surprised, and a tad ashamed.\n\n\"Do your best to keep her out of trouble, General,\" Egwene said, staring Siuan in the eyes. \"She has been in quite a bit of it lately. I have half a mind to give her to you to use as afoot soldier. I believe that the military organization might be good for her, and remind her that sometimes, obedience overrides initiative.\"\n\nSiuan wilted, glancing away.\n\n\"I haven't decided what to do with you yet, Siuan,\" Egwene said in a softer voice. \"But my anger has been kindled. And my trust has been lost. You will need to soothe the first and stoke the second if you wish to enter my confidence again.\"\n\nShe turned from Siuan to the general, who looked sick. Probably from being forced to feel Siuan's shame." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You are to be commended for your bravery, letting her bond you, General,\" Egwene said, turning to Bryne. \"I realize that keeping her from trouble is a nearly impossible charge, but I have confidence in you.\"\n\nThe general relaxed. \"I shall do my best, Mother,\" he said. Then he turned his horse, glancing along the rows of soldiers. \"There is something you should see. If you will?\"\n\nShe nodded, turning her horse and riding beside him down the roadway. The village was cobbled here, the population evacuated, the main thoroughfare lined with thousands of Bryne's soldiers. Siuan accompanied Egwene, and Gawyn followed. Lelaine and Romanda stayed with the other Sitters at a wave of Egwene's hand. Their newfound obedience was proving useful, particularly since they had apparently decided that they would now be trying to outdo one another for Egwene's approval. Likely, they were both vying to be her new Keeper, now that Sheriam was gone.\n\nThe general led Egwene to the front lines, and Egwene prepared a weave of Air just in case an arrow was shot in her direction. Siuan eyed her, but said nothing at the precaution. It shouldn't have been needed-Tower Guards would never fire on an Aes Sedai, not even in a conflict like this one. However, the same couldn't be said of Warders, and accidents did happen. It would be very convenient for Elaida if astray arrow took her rival in the throat.\n\nThey made their way through the village, finally coming to a stop near the Darein Bridge, a majestic white construction that spanned the river to Tar Valon. Here was the thing Bryne wanted her to see: Gathered just west of the high point of the bridge, bunkered down behind a blockade of stones and large logs, was a force of Tower Guard. They looked to be about three hundred strong. Across the river, more soldiers stood atop the walls. They brought the total to no more than a thousand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bryne's assault force here was ten thousand strong.\n\n\"Now, I know it was never numbers that were keeping us from attacking,\" Bryne said. \"But the Tower Guard should be able to field more men than that, particularly with conscriptions out of the city proper. I doubt they've been spending these months carving pegs by the fire and reminiscing about old times. If Chubain has half a mind, he's been training anew set of recruits.\"\n\n\"So where is everyone?\" Egwene asked.\n\n\"Light only knows, Mother,\" Bryne said, shaking his head. \"We'll lose some men getting past that force, but not many. It will be a rout.\"\n\n\"Could the Seanchan have really hurt them that much?\"\n\n\"I don't know, Mother,\" Bryne said. \"It was bad last night. A lot of fire, a lot of men dead. But I'd have pegged the cost at hundreds, not thousands. Perhaps the Tower Guard is clearing out rubble and stopping the fires, but I still think they'd have gathered a larger force when they saw me forming up here. I've taken a spyglass to those lads over there, and I've noted more than one set of bleary red eyes.\"\n\nEgwene sat thoughtfully, glad for the breeze blowing in along the river from downstream. \"You haven't questioned the wisdom of this assault, General.\"\n\n\"It's not my habit to question where I'm pointed, Mother.\"\n\n\"And your thoughts on the matter, if asked?\"\n\n\"If asked?\" Byrne said. \"Well, attacking makes tactical sense. We've lost Traveling as an edge, and if our enemy can resupply at will and send envoys in and out whenever they want, then what's the purpose of a siege? It's time to either attack or pack up and leave.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Egwene nodded. And yet, she found herself hesitating. That ominous smoke in the sky, the maimed Tower, the frightened soldiers without reinforcements. It all seemed to whisper a warning.\n\n\"How long can we wait before you absolutely must begin this assault, General?\" she asked.\n\nHe frowned, but didn't question her. He glanced at the sky. \"It's getting late. An hour, perhaps? After that, it will be too dark. With numbers this favorable, I'd rather not add the randomness of a night battle to the mix.\"\n\n\"We wait, then, for an hour,\" Egwene said, settling back on her mount. The others seemed confused, but they said nothing. The Amyrlin Seat had spoken.\n\nWhat was she waiting for? What were her instincts telling her? Egwene thought on it as the minutes extended, eventually realizing what had made her pause. Once this step had been taken, there was no turning back. The White Tower had suffered the previous night; it was the first time an enemy force had used the One Power against it. Egwene's assault would be another first: the first time one group of Aes Sedai had led troops in battle against another group. There had been fights between factions in the Tower before; clashes between one Ajah and another, some turning to bloodshed, like what had happened after Siuan's ousting. The Secret Histories mentioned such events.\n\nBut never had the dissension extended beyond the doors of the Tower itself. Never had Aes Sedai led troops across those bridges. To do so now would attach the event forever to Egwene's tenure as Amyrlin. Whatever else she achieved, it would likely be overshadowed by this day.\n\nShe had hoped to liberate and unite. Instead, she would turn to war and subjugation. If it had to be so, then she would give the command. But she wanted to wait until the last possible moment. If that meant a grim hour beneath the overcast sky, horses snorting as they sensed their riders' tension, then so be it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bryne's hour came and passed. Egwene hesitated fora few minutes longer-as long as she dared. No relief came to the poor soldiers standing on the bridge. They just stared out behind their little barricade, resolute.\n\nReluctantly, Egwene turned to give the command.\n\n\"Here now.\" Bryne leaned forward in his saddle. \"What is this?\"\n\nEgwene turned back to the bridge. Distantly, just barely visible, a procession was coming over the top. Had she waited too long? Had the White Tower sent reinforcements? Had she cost the lives of her men by her stubborn reluctance?\n\nBut no. That group wasn't soldiers, but women in skirts. Aes Sedai!\n\nEgwene held up her hand, staying any attacks by her soldiers. The procession rode directly up to the Tower Guard fortification. A moment later, a woman in a gray dress stepped out in front of the blockade, accompanied by a single Warder. Egwene squinted, trying to make out the woman's features, and Bryne hastily handed her his spyglass. Egwene accepted it thankfully, but had already recognized the woman. Andaya Forae, one of the new Sitters to the Hall chosen after the split. Gray Ajah. That implied a willingness to negotiate.\n\nThe glow of power surrounded the woman, and Siuan hissed, causing several nearby soldiers to raise their bows. Again Egwene held up a hand. \"Bryne,\" she said sternly, \"I will not have the first shot fired until I give permission.\"\n\n\"Stand down, men!\" Bryne bellowed. \"I'll have your hides if you so much as nock an arrow!\" The men snapped their bows back down from the ready." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The distant woman used a weave Egwene couldn't make out, and then spoke in a voice that was obviously amplified. \"We would speak with Egwene al'Vere,\" Andaya said. \"Is she in attendance?\"\n\nEgwene made her own weave to amplify her voice. \"I am here, Andaya. Tell the others with you to come out so that I can see them.\"\n\nSurprisingly, they obeyed the command. Nine more women filed out, and Egwene studied each one. \"Ten Sitters,\" she said, handing Bryne back his spyglass and releasing her weave so that she could speak without her words being projected. \"Two from each Ajah except the Blue and the Red.\"\n\n\"That's promising.\" Bryne rubbed his chin.\n\n\"Well, they could be hereto demand my surrender,\" Egwene noted. \"All right,\" she said, amplifying her voice with the Power again. \"What do you wish of me?\"\n\n\"We have come,\" Andaya said. She hesitated. \"We have come to inform you that the Hall of the White Tower has chosen to raise you to the Amyrlin Seat.\"\n\nSiuan gasped in shock, and Bryne cursed quietly to himself. Several of the soldiers muttered about it being a trap. But Egwene just closed her eyes. Dared she hope? She'd assumed that her unwanted rescue had come too soon. But if she'd laid enough groundwork before being taken by Siuan and Gawyn....\n\n\"What of Elaida?\" Egwene demanded, opening her eyes, her voice booming across the expanse. \"Have you deposed yet another Amyrlin?\"\n\nThe other side was silent fora moment. \"They're conferring.\" Bryne had raised his spyglass." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Andaya spoke a moment later. \"Elaida do Avriny a Roihan, Watcher of the Seals, the Flame of Tar Valon, the Amyrlin Seat... was taken in the raid last night. Her whereabouts are unknown. She is presumed dead or otherwise unable to fulfill her duties.\"\n\n\"By the Light!\" Bryne lowered the glass.\n\n\"No more than she deserved,\" Siuan muttered.\n\n\"No woman deserves that,\" Egwene said to Siuan and Bryne. Absently she raised fingers to her neck. \"Better she had died.\"\n\nBryne said, \"This could be a trap.\"\n\n\"I don't see how,\" Siuan said. \"Andaya is bound by the oaths. She wasn't on your list of Black, was she, Egwene?\"\n\nEgwene shook her head.\n\n\"I'm still hesitant, Mother,\" Bryne said.\n\nEgwene restored her weave. \"You will let my army enter? You will accept the other Aes Sedai back in fellowship and will reinstate the Blue Ajah?\"\n\n\"We anticipated these demands,\" Andaya said. \"They will be met.\"\n\nThere was silence, the only sound that of the waters lapping against their banks below.\n\n\"Then I accept,\" Egwene said.\n\n\"Mother,\" Siuan said cautiously. \"This might be rash. Perhaps you should speak with-\"\n\n\"It is not rash,\" Egwene released her weave and felt a surge of hope. \"It is what we've wanted.\" She eyed Siuan. \"Besides. Who are you to lecture me on being rash?\" Siuan looked down. \"General, prepare your men to cross, and bring the Sitters at the back forward. Send runners back to the Aes Sedai camp with the news, and make certain your men at the other bridges know to stand down.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes, Mother.\" Bryne wheeled his horse about and gave the necessary orders.\n\nTaking a deep breath, Egwene kicked her horse into motion onto the bridge. Siuan muttered a fisher's curse and followed. Egwene could hear Gawyn's horse following as well, then a squad of soldiers obeying a curt command from Bryne.\n\nEgwene rode across the waters, hair blowing out behind her, laced with red ribbons. She felt an odd sense of moment-a weight of realization-as she considered what they had all just avoided. It was soon replaced with growing satisfaction and joy.\n\nHer white mare bucked her head slightly, brushing a silky mane across Egwene's hands. On the bridge, the Sitters turned to make their way into the city. The Tower rose just ahead. Wounded. Bleeding.\n\nBut it still stood. Light, it stood!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After crossing the bridge to Tar Valon as a victor, the day nearly became a blur for Egwene. She hastened to the White Tower, Siuan and Gawyn barely managing to keep up with her. At the Tower, Egwene was met by a group of servants; the Sitters themselves were waiting in the Hall for Egwene.\n\nThe servants led her to an unadorned, wood-paneled chamber set with a pair of leather-padded chairs. Egwene had never been here before; it appeared to be a kind of waiting room near the Hall. It smelled of leather, and a small brazier burned coals in the corner.\n\nSoon, a short, toadlike Brown sister named Lairain entered and instructed Egwene on the proper way to go about the ceremony. The little curly-haired woman seemed completely indifferent to the importance of the moment, and Egwene had never met her before. Likely, she was one of the Browns who spent her life roaming the back library stacks, and only surfaced once a century or so to recite instructions to prospective Amyrlins. Egwene listened carefully; she'd gone through the ceremony once, but it was very complex.\n\nShe could still remember her nervousness on that day, months ago, when she'd been raised in Salidar. Back then, she'd still been confused as to what was happening. Her? Amyrlin?\n\nThat hesitation was gone. She did not really worry about getting the ceremony wrong. It was only a ceremony, and the important decision had already been made. As Egwene listened to Lairain, she heard Siuan arguing outside the doors with one of the sisters, claiming that Egwene had already been raised, and that this ceremony wasn't needed. Egwene quieted Lairain with a raised hand and called out to Siuan." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Siuan peeked in the door.\n\n\"I was raised by the rebels, Siuan,\" Egwene said sternly. \"These women deserve the chance to stand for meas well. Otherwise, I will never have a claim to their loyalty. The ceremony must be performed again.\"\n\nSiuan scowled, but nodded. \"Very well.\"\n\nLairain opened her mouth to continue instructions, but Egwene silenced her with another motion, earning a huff. \"What news have you, Siuan?\"\n\n\"Well,\" Siuan said, cracking the door a little wider, \"Bryne moved most of his troops across the bridges, and has relieved the Tower Guard from their positions at the fortifications, sending them in-along with a number of his own squads-to help putout flareups around the city. The Seanchan set some homes on fire to cover their retreat as they fled.\"\n\nThat explained the lack of troops at the barricade-that, along with the knowledge that the Hall was busy debating whether or not to raise Egwene. They likely didn't realize how close they'd come to war.\n\n\"What do you want to do with the sisters from your camp?\" Siuan asked. \"They're starting to wonder.\"\n\n\"Tell them to gather in front of the Sunset Gate,\" Egwene said. \"Have them stand in ranks by Ajah, with Sitters in a line at the front. Once I am finished with the ceremony, I will greet them and formally accept their apology for their rebellion and welcome them back into the Tower.\"\n\n\"Accept their apology?\" Siuan asked incredulously.\n\n\"They rebelled against the Tower, Siuan,\" Egwene said, looking at her. \"Whatever the need of what they did, there is reason for apology.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But you were with them!\"\n\n\"I no longer represent just them, Siuan,\" Egwene said firmly. \"I represent the Tower. The entire Tower. And the Tower needs to know that the rebels regret the division. They needn't lie and say that they wished they had stayed, but I think it is appropriate for them to express sorrow over the hardships the division caused. I will acquit them, and we can get on with healing.\"\n\n\"Yes, Mother,\" Siuan said in resignation. Egwene caught sight of Tesan standing behind, the woman nodding her Taraboner-braided head at Egwene's words.\n\nEgwene let Lairain continue her instructions, then repeated back to her the lines she would have to say and the actions she'd have to take. When the Brown was satisfied, Egwene rose, pulled open the door and found that Siuan had left to relay her orders. Tesan stood in the hallway outside, arms folded, regarding Gawyn. He leaned against the wall a short distance away, his hand resting on the pommel of his sheathed sword.\n\n\"Your Warder?\" Tesan asked of Egwene.\n\nShe regarded Gawyn, and was forced to confront a whole mess of emotions. Anger, affection, passion and regret. What a strange mix. \"No,\" she said. She stared Gawyn in the eyes. \"What I am going to do next you cannot be part of, Gawyn. Wait here.\"\n\nHe opened his mouth to object, thought better of it, then stood up stiffly and bowed. That gesture felt even more insolent than an argument would have.\n\nEgwene sniffed softly-yet loud enough for him to hear-then allowed Tesan to lead her to the Hall of the Tower. The Hall: both a place and a group of people. For they were one, just as the Amyrlin Seat was a person, yet was also the chair in which she sat." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She stopped before the doors to the Hall, the dark wood inlaid with the silver Flame of Tar Valon, and felt her heart flutter rebelliously. Siuan suddenly appeared, with a pair of slippers, gesturing at Egwene's riding boots. Of course; the Hall floor was delicately painted. She changed into the slippers; Siuan took her boots away. There was no need to be nervous! I've been here before, she thought suddenly. Not just in Salidar. In my testing. I've faced this door, confronted the women beyond. In my testing...\n\nA gong suddenly sounded; it seemed loud enough to shake the entire Tower, ringing to warn that an Amyrlin was about to be raised. The gong rang again, then again, and those ornate doors swung open. Yes, this was a different experience entirely from the one she'd had back in that humble wooden building where she'd been raised by the Salidar Aes Sedai. In many ways, her performance in Salidar had been but a rehearsal.\n\nThe doors finished opening, and Egwene stifled a gasp. The grand, domed room beyond now had a blasted hole-a gaping emptiness-directly across from the entrance. It looked out at Dragonmount. The chamber wasn't as damaged as some had been in the Seanchan attack; the rubble was minimal, and the destruction had barely reached past that outer wall. The raised platform still ran around the outside of the room, and the chairs it held were undamaged. Eighteen of them, in clusters of three, each painted and cushioned to declare the Ajah of its inhabitant.\n\nThe Amyrlin Seat stood by the far wall, directly in front of the broken wall, its back to the sprawling landscape beyond and distant Dragonmount. If the Seanchan blast had gone a few feet farther inward, the Seat would have been destroyed. Thank the Light, it was unmarred." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Egwene could faintly smell paint in the air." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Had they hurriedly had the Seat repainted to bear all seven colors again? If so, they'd worked quickly. They hadn't had time to replace the seats of the Blue Sitters, however.\n\nEgwene noted Saerin, Doesine and Yukiri sitting with their respective Ajahs. Seaine was there as well, regarding Egwene with those calculating blue eyes. How much power had these four women wielded in these events? Square-faced Suana, of the Yellow, was smiling openly in satisfaction as she regarded Egwene, and while most of the faces bore the serene, unemotional faces of Aes Sedai, Egwene sensed approval in their postures. Or, at least, alack of hostility. More than just the Black Ajah hunters had been behind this decision.\n\nSaerin stood up from her chair in the Brown section. \"Who comes before the Hall of the Tower?\" she asked in a ringing voice.\n\nEgwene hesitated, still looking over the Sitters, their seats arranged around the outer platform, equally spaced. Too many of those chairs were empty. There were only two Green Sitters; Talene had fled weeks ago. The Gray were missing Evanellein, who had vanished earlier in the day. Velina and Sedore were gone as well. That didn't bode well; those two were on Verin's list of Black Ajah. Had they been warned? Did Evanellein's disappearance mean Verin had missed her?\n\nThere were no Red sisters either. With a start, Egwene remembered that Duhara had left the Tower some weeks before-nobody knew why, but some said it had been on a mission for Elaida. Perhaps she was about Black Ajah business. The other two red Sitters, Javindhra and Pevara, had vanished mysteriously." }, { "from": "human", "value": "That left eleven Sitters." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Not enough to raise an Amyrlin by the old laws of the Tower-but those had been revised with Elaida's disbanding of the Blue. Fewer Sitters meant fewer women needed to raise an Amyrlin, and now only eleven were required. It would have to do. At least each and every Sitter currently in the Tower knew of this event; it wasn't in secret, like Elaida's raising. And Egwene could be reasonably certain no Black Sitters would stand for her.\n\nSaerin cleared her throat, glancing at Egwene uncertainly, and called again, \"Who comes before the Hall of the Tower?\"\n\nTesan leaned in from the side, as if to hiss the proper response to Egwene. Egwene, however, cut her off by holding up a hand.\n\nThere was something Egwene had been considering, something audacious. Yet it was appropriate. She knew that it was. She could feel that it was. \"The Red Ajah is in disgrace?\" she asked quietly of Tesan.\n\nThe White nodded, braided hair brushing the sides of her face. \"The Reds, you needn't worry about them,\" she said in her light Taraboner accent. \"Following Elaida's disappearance, they retreated back to their quarters. The Sitters here, they worried that the Red would choose new Sitters quickly and send them to this proceeding. I believe some... curt missives from the Hall of the Tower were enough to cow them.\"\n\n\"And Silviana Brehon? Still imprisoned?\"\n\n\"She is, as far as I know, Mother,\" Tesan said, slipping fora moment and using the title, though Egwene hadn't been formally raised by the Hall yet. \"Don't worry, Leane-she has been freed. We had her escorted out to stand with the other rebels, awaiting your forgiveness.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Egwene nodded thoughtfully. \"Have Silviana brought here, to the Hall of the Tower, immediately.\"\n\nTesan's brow wrinkled. \"Mother, I don't think this is the time-\"\n\n\"Just do it,\" Egwene hissed, then turned to face the Hall. \"One who comes obediently, in the Light,\" she pronounced in a firm voice.\n\nSaerin relaxed. \"Who comes before the Hall of the Tower?\"\n\n\"One who comes humbly, in the Light,\" Egwene responded. She stared at each of the Sitters. A firm hand. She would have to be firm. They needed leadership.\n\n\"Who comes before the Hall of the Tower?\" Saerin finished.\n\n\"One who comes at the summons of the Hall,\" Egwene said, \"obedient and humble in the Light, asking only to accept the will of the Hall.\"\n\nThe ceremony proceeded, each of the Sitters stripping to the waist to prove she was a woman. Egwene did the same, and barely gave a blush at the thought of Gawyn, who had clearly thought she should bring him along to the event.\n\n\"Who stands for this woman?\" Saerin asked after the Sitters had re-dressed. Egwene had to remain stripped to the waist for now, and the cool breeze through the broken wall was chill on her skin. \"And pledges for her, heart for heart, soul for soul, life for life?\"\n\nYukiri, Seaine and Suana stood quickly. \"I so pledge,\" each of them announced.\n\nThe first time Egwene had experienced this ceremony, she had been in shock. At each step, she'd been terrified she'd make an error. Worse, she'd been terrified that it would all turnout to be a ruse or a mistake." }, { "from": "human", "value": "That fear was gone." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As the ritual questions were asked-as Egwene stepped forward three steps and knelt on the smooth floor, repainted by Elaida's order with only six colors spiraling out of the mark of the Flame of Tar Valon-Egwene saw through the pomp and looked at the core of what was happening. These women were terrified. As had been the women in Salidar. The Amyrlin Seat was a force of stability, and they reached for it.\n\nWhy had shebeen chosen? Both times, it seemed the same answer. Because she was the only one they could all agree upon. There were smiling faces in this group. But they were the smiles of women who had succeeded in keeping rivals off of the Seat. Either that, or they were the smiles of women who were relieved that someone was stepping up to take leadership. And, perhaps, there were some who smiled because they weren't the ones who had to take the Seat. Its recent history had been fraught with danger, dissension, and two dramatic tragedies.\n\nOriginally, in Salidar, Egwene had thought the women were being idiots. She was more experienced now, and hopefully wiser as well. She could see that they hadn't been fools. They'd been Aes Sedai-covering their fear by being overly cautious, yet brazen at the same time. Choosing someone they wouldn't mind seeing fall. Taking a risk, but not putting themselves indirect danger.\n\nThese women were doing the same. They covered their fear with smooth faces and acts of control. When the time came for the Sitters to stand in her support, Egwene was not surprised that all eleven rose to their feet. Not a single dissent. There would be no foot washing during this ceremony.\n\nNo, she was not surprised. They knew that there was no other option, not with an army on their doorstep, not with Elaida as good as dead. The Aes Sedai thing to do was act as if there had never been any argument. The consensus must be reached." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Saerin looked surprised that nobody had chosen to remain seated, if only to prove that she would not be bullied. In fact, more than one of the Sitters seemed surprised, and Egwene suspected that they were regretting their decision to stand up so quickly. One could gain some measure of power by being the only person who remained seated, forcing Egwene to wash her feet and ask for permission to serve. Of course, that also could have singled the woman out, and earned her the dislike of the new Amyrlin.\n\nThe women slowly took their seats. Egwene needed no guidance, and none was offered. She rose and strode across the hall, her slippered feet silent on the painted stone of the Flame. A gust of wind blew through the room, ruffling shawls, blowing across Egwene's bare skin. It said something for the strength of the Hall that they had chosen to meet here, despite the dizzying view out of the far wall.\n\nSaerin met Egwene at the Seat. The olive-skinned Altaran began to button Egwene's bodice with careful fingers, then reverently lifted the Amyrlin's stole from the Seat. It was the one with all seven colors, recovered from wherever Elaida had discarded it. Saerin regarded Egwene fora moment, hefting the stole, as if judging it.\n\n\"Are you certain you want to bear this weight, child?\" Saerin asked in a very soft voice. This was not part of the ceremony.\n\n\"I bear it already, Saerin.\" Egwene's reply was almost a whisper. \"Elaida cast it aside when she tried to slice it and divide it as she wished. I took it up and have carried it since. I would bear it to my death. And will.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Saerin nodded. \"I think that might be why you deserve it,\" she said. \"I doubt anything in the histories will compare to the days ahead. I suspect that, in the future, scholars will look back on our days and judge them to be more difficult-more trying of mind, body and soul-than the Time of Madness or the Breaking itself.\"\n\n\"Then it's a good thing the world has us, isn't it?\" Egwene asked.\n\nSaerin hesitated, then nodded. \"I suppose it is at that.\" She raised the stole and set it upon Egwene's shoulders. \"You are raised to the Amyrlin Seat!\" she declared, the voices of the other Sitters joining in, \"In the glory of the Light, that the White Tower may endure forever. Egwene al'Vere, the Watcher of the Seals, the Flame of Tar Valon, the Amyrlin Seat!\"\n\nEgwene turned to regard the group of women, then sat down in the chair. She felt as if she had returned home after a very long journey. The world bowed beneath the stress of the Dark One's touch, but it felt a little more right-a little more secure-the moment she took her place.\n\nThe women arranged themselves before her in order of age, with Saerin at the very end. One at a time they curtsied deeply before her, asked her permission to serve, then kissed her Great Serpent ring and stepped aside. As they did so, Egwene noticed that Tesan had finally returned. She peeked into be certain everyone was dressed, then returned a moment later leading a group of four guards with the Flame of Tar Valon burning white on their chests. Egwene suppressed a sigh. They'd brought Silviana in chains, it appeared." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After kissing herring, the Sitters returned to their chairs. There was some little more to the ceremony, but the important part was through with. Egwene was Amyrlin, really and truly, at long last. She had waited so long for this moment.\n\nNow it was time for some surprises.\n\n\"Release the prisoner's chains,\" Egwene said.\n\nReluctantly, the soldiers outside the room did as demanded, the metal clinking. The Sitters turned with confused expressions.\n\n\"Silviana Brehon!\" Egwene declared, standing up. \"You may approach the Amyrlin Seat.\"\n\nThe soldiers stepped aside and allowed Silviana to enter. Her red dress had once been fine, but she had not been well treated by Elaida's confinement. Her black hair-normally kept in a bun-was instead coarsely braided. Her dress was rumpled, the knees dirty. And yet her square face was serene.\n\nSurprisingly, she knelt before Egwene after walking across the room. Egwene lowered her hand and let the woman kiss herring.\n\nThe Sitters watched, confused that Egwene had broken the ceremony. \"Mother,\" Yukiri finally asked. \"Is this the best time to be dispensing judgment?\"\n\nEgwene withdrew her hand from the kneeling Silviana and looked directly at Yukiri, then turned her gaze across the waiting Sitters. \"You all bear a great deal of shame,\" she said.\n\nStiff-faced Aes Sedai raised eyebrows and opened eyes wider. They seemed angry. They had no right! Their anger was nothing beside hers.\n\n\"This,\" Egwene said, gesturing toward the broken wall. \"You bear responsibility for this.\" She pointed at Silviana, still kneeling. \" You bear responsibility for this. You bear responsibility for the way our sisters regard one another in the halls, and you bear responsibility for letting the Tower remain so long in division. Many of you bear responsibility for that division on the first place!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You area disgrace. The White Tower-the pride of the Light, the power for stability and truth since the Age of Legends-has nearly been shattered because of you.\"\n\nEyes bugged out, and a few women choked in shock. \"Elaida-\" one began.\n\n\"Elaida was a madwoman, and you all know it!\" Egwene said sternly, standing tall, staring them down. \" You knew it these last few months as she worked unwittingly to destroy us. Light, many of you probably knew it when you raised her in the first place!\n\n\"There have been foolish Amyrlins before, but none have come as close to tearing down the entire Tower! You area check upon the Amyrlin. You are to keep her from doing things like this! You allowed her to disband an entire Ajah? What were you thinking? How is it that you allowed the Tower to fall so far? And when the Dragon Reborn himself walks the land, no less!\n\n\"You should have removed Elaida the moment you heard of her disastrous attempt to confine Rand al'Thor. You should have removed her when you saw how her bickering and pettiness was turning Ajahs against one another. And you should certainly have removed her when she refused to do what was needed to bring the Tower together again, whole as one!\"\n\nEgwene looked down the lines of sisters, staring at each one in turn, meeting each set of eyes until they looked away. None dared hold her gaze for long. Finally, she saw shame begin to peek through their masks. As well it should!\n\n\"None of you would stand up to her,\" Egwene spat. \"You dare call yourself the Hall of the Tower? You who were cowed? You who were too frightened to do what was needed? You who were too caught up in your own squabbles and politicking to see what was needed?\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Co-writing with the writer, continue the narrative.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, last battle\nAuthor: Robert Jordan, Brandon Sanderson\nTitle: The Gathering Storm\nChapter: 59" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He hadn't ever been to Ebou Dar itself; he'd only visited the hills to the north, where he'd fought the Seanchan while wielding Callandor. That had been a place of failure. Now he had returned to Altara. But for what?\n\nIn the morning, when the gates to the city had opened, he made his way inside with the others who had arrived at night. The Tinkers had taken them all in; apparently, they were receiving a ration of food from the Seanchan to house after-hour travelers. That was only one of their many occupations. They mended pots, sewed uniforms and did other odd jobs. For this, they received the protection of rulers for the first time in their long history.\n\nHe'd spent long enough with the Aiel to pickup some of their disdain for the Tinkers. Yet that disdain warred with his knowledge that the Tuatha'an-in many ways-followed more true, traditional Aiel ways. Rand could remember what it was like to live as they had. In the visions of Rhuidean, he had followed the Way of the Leaf. He'd also seen the Age of Legends. He'd lived those lives, the lives of others, fora few brief moments.\n\nHe walked along the packed streets of the muggy city, still in something of a daze. Last night, he had traded his fine black coat to a Tinker fora common brown cloak, ragged on the bottom and stitched in places. Not a Tinker cloak, just one that a Tinker had sewn up fora man who had never returned to claim it. It made him standout less, even if it did require him to carry the access key looped to his belt, rather than his deep pocket. The Tinker also gave him a walking staff, which Rand used as he walked, slouching slightly. Height might make him memorable. He wanted to be invisible to these people." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He had nearly killed his father. He hadn't been forced to by Semirhage, or by Lews Therin's influence. No excuses. No argument. He, Rand al'Thor, had tried to kill his own father. He'd drawn in the Power, made the weaves and nearly released them.\n\nRand's rage was gone, replaced by loathing. He'd wanted to make himself hard. He'd needed to be hard. But this was where hardness had brought him. Lews Therin had been able to claim madness for his atrocities. Rand had nothing, no place to hide, no refuge from himself.\n\nEbou Dar. It was a busy, bulging city, split in half by its large river. Rand walked the west side, through squares edged with beautiful statues and streets lined with row upon row of white houses, many several stories high. He often passed men fighting with fists or knives, and nobody making any effort to break them apart. Even the women wore knives at their necks in jeweled scabbards, hanging above low-cut dresses worn over colorful petticoats.\n\nHe ignored them all. Instead, he thought on the Tinkers. Tinkers were safe here, but Rand's own father wasn't safe in his empire. Rand's friends feared him; he had seen it in Nynaeve's eyes.\n\nThe people here weren't afraid. Seanchan officers moved through the crowds, wearing those insectlike helms. The people made way for them, but out of respect. When Rand heard commoners speaking, they were glad for the stability. They actually praised the Seanchan for conquering them!\n\nRand crossed a short, canal-spanning bridge. Small boats idled down the waterway, boatmen calling greetings to one another. There didn't seem to be any sense of order to the city layout; where he expected houses, he found shops, and instead of similar shops clustering together-as was common inmost cities-here they were scattered, haphazard. On the other side of the bridge, he passed a tall, white mansion, then a tavern right next to it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A man in a colorful silk vest jostled Rand on the street, then offered a lengthy, overly polite apology. Rand hurried on, lest the man want to start a duel.\n\nThis did not seem like an oppressed people. There was no undercurrent of resentment. The Seanchan had a much better hold on Ebou Dar than Rand had on Bandar Eban, and the people here were happy-even prosperous! Of course, Altara-as a kingdom-had never been very strong. Rand knew from his tutors that the Crown's authority hadn't extended much beyond the borders of the city. It was much the same for the other places the Seanchan had conquered. Tarabon, Amadicia, Almoth Plain. Some were more stable than Altara, others less, but all would welcome security.\n\nRand stopped and leaned against another white building, this one a farrier's shop. He raised his stump to his head, trying to clear his mind.\n\nHe didn't want to confront what he had nearly done back in the Stone. He didn't want to confront what he had done: weaving Air and shoving Tam to the ground, threatening him; raving.\n\nRand couldn't focus on that. He had not come to Ebou Dar to gawk like a farmboy. He had come to destroy his enemies! They defied him; they needed to be eliminated. For the good of all nations.\n\nBut if he drew that much power through the access key, what damage would he cause? How many lives would he end? And would he not simply light a beacon for the Forsaken, as he had in cleansing saidin?\n\nLet them come. He straightened up. He could defeat them.\n\nIt was time to attack. Time to burn the Seanchan off the land. He set aside his staff and took the key off its strap at his belt, but could not force himself to unwrap it from its linen shroud. He stared at it in his hand fora time, then continued to walk, idly leaving the staff behind. It felt so odd to be just another foreigner. The Dragon Reborn walked among this people, and they did not know him. To them, Rand al'Thor was far off. The Last Battle was secondary to whether or not they could get their chickens to market, or whether their son would recover from his cough, or whether they would be able to afford that new silk vest they had been wanting." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They would not know Rand until he destroyed them.\n\nIt will be a mercy, Lews Therin whispered. Death is always a mercy. The madman didn't sound as crazy as he once had. In fact, his voice had started to sound an awful lot like Rand's own voice.\n\nRand stopped atop another bridge, looking over at the city's massive white-walled palace, home to the Seanchan court. It rose four stories high, with rings of gold at the base of its four domes and more gold at the tips of its many spires. The Daughter of the Nine Moons would be found in there. He could give those walls a purity they had never known, a perfection. That would make the building complete, in away, in the moment before it faded into nothingness.\n\nHe unwrapped the access key, just another foreigner, standing on the muddy bridge. After destroying the palace, he would have to be quick. He'd sendoff bursts of balefire to destroy the ships in the harbor, then use something more mundane to rain fire on the city itself, throw it into a panic. The chaos would delay his enemies\" reaction. After that, he would Travel to the garrisons at the city gates and destroy them. He vaguely remembered scout reports of supply camps to the north, well stocked with both soldiers and foodstuffs. He would destroy them next.\n\nFrom there, he'd need to move onto Amador, then to Tanchico and others. He'd Travel quickly, never remaining in one place long enough to be caught by the Forsaken. A flickering light of death, like a burning ember, flaring to life here, then there. Many would die, but most would be Seanchan. Invaders.\n\nHe stared down at the access key. Then he seized saidin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The sickness washed across him more powerfully than it ever had before." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The force of it knocked him to the ground like a physical blow. He cried out, barely noticing when he hit the stones. He groaned, gripping the access key, curling around it. His insides seemed to burn, and he turned his head, rolling onto his shoulder and vomiting onto the bridge.\n\nBut he held onto saidin. He needed the power. The succulent, beautiful power. Even the stench of his own vomit seemed more real to him, more sweet, for the power within him.\n\nHe opened his eyes. People were gathered around him, concerned. A Seanchan patrol was approaching. Now was the time. He had to strike.\n\nBut he could not. The people looked so concerned. So worried. They cared.\n\nScreaming in frustration, Rand made a gateway, causing the people to jump back in shock. He stumbled to his feet and threw himself through, scrabbling on all fours, as the Seanchan soldiers drew swords and yelled unfamiliar words.\n\nRand landed on a large stone disc of black and white, the air around him avoid of darkness. The portal closed behind, locking Ebou Dar away, and the disc began to move. It floated through the void, lit by some strange ambient light. Rand curled upon the disc, cradling the access key, breathing deeply.\n\nWhy can't I be strong enough? He didn't know if the thought was his or if it was Lews Therin's. The two were the same. Why can't I do what I must?\n\nThe disc traveled fora short time, the only sound in the void that of his breathing. The disc looked like one of the seals to the Dark One's prison, split with a sinuous line dividing the black from the white. Rand lay directly atop it. They called the black half the Dragon's Fang. To the people, it symbolized evil. Destruction." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But Rand was necessary destruction. Why had the Pattern pushed him so hard if he didn't need to destroy? Originally, he had tried to avoid killing-but there had been little chance of that working. Then he'd made himself avoid killing women. That had proven impossible.\n\nHe was destruction. He just had to accept that. Someone had to be hard enough to do what was necessary, didn't they?\n\nA gateway opened, and he stumbled to his feet, clutching the access key. He stepped from the Skimming platform and out onto an empty meadow. The place where he'd fought the Seanchan once with Callandor. And failed.\n\nHe stared at this place fora longtime, breathing in and out, then spun another gateway. This one opened onto afield of snow, and icy wind blasted at him. He stepped through, feet crunching into the snow, and let the gateway close.\n\nHere, the world spread before him.\n\nWhy have we come here? Rand thought.\n\nBecause, Rand replied. Because we made this. This is where we died.\n\nHe stood on the very point of Dragonmount, the lone peak that had erupted where Lews Therin had killed himself three thousand years before. To one side, he could see down hundreds of feet to where the side of the mountain opened into a blasted-out chasm. The opening was enormous, larger than it looked from profile. A wide oval of red, blazing, churning rock. It was as if a chunk of the mountain were simply missing, torn away, leaving the peak to rise into the air but the entire side of the mountain gone.\n\nRand stared down into that seething chasm. It was like the maw of a beast. Heat burned from below and flakes of ash twisted into the sky." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The dun sky was clouded above him. The ground seemed equally distant, barely visible, like a quilt marked with patterns. Here a patch of green that was a forest. There a stitch that was a river. To the east, he saw a small speck in the river, like a floating leaf caught in the tiny current. Tar Valon.\n\nRand sat down, the snow crunching beneath his weight. He set the access key into the bank before him and wove Air and Fire to keep himself warm.\n\nThen he rested his elbows on his knees and his head on his hand, staring at the diminutive statue of the man with the globe.\n\nTo think." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Wind blew around Rand as he sat at the top of the world. His weaving of Air and Fire had melted away the snow around him, exposing a jagged gray-black tip of rock about three paces wide. The peak was like a broken fingernail jutting into the sky, and Rand sat atop it. As far as he could tell, it was the very tip of Dragonmount. Perhaps the highest point in the world.\n\nHe sat upon his small outcropping, the access key sitting on the rock in front of him. The air was thin here, and he'd had trouble breathing until he'd found away to weave Air so that it compressed slightly around him. Like the weave that warmed him, he wasn't certain how he'd done it. He vaguely remembered Asmodean trying to teach him a similar weave, and Rand hadn't been able to get it right. Now it came naturally. Lews Therin's influence, or his own growing familiarity with the One Power?\n\nDragonmount's broken, open mouth lay several hundred feet beneath him, to the left. The scents of ash and sulphur were pungent, even at this distance. The maw was black with ash and red from molten rock and blazing fires.\n\nHe still held to the Source. He didn't dare let go. This last time he'd seized it had been the worst he could remember, and he feared that the sickness would overpower him if he tried again.\n\nHe had been here for hours. And yet he did not feel tired. He stared at the ter'angreal. Thinking.\n\nWhat was he? What was the Dragon Reborn? A symbol? A sacrifice? A sword, meant to destroy? A sheltering hand, meant to protect?\n\nA puppet, playing apart over and over again?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "He was angry." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Angry at the world, angry at the Pattern, angry at the Creator for leaving humans to fight against the Dark One with no direction. What right did any of them have to demand Rand's life of him?\n\nWell, Rand had offered that life to them. It had taken him a great while to accept his death, but he had made his peace. Wasn't that enough? Did he have to be in pain until the end?\n\nHe had thought that if he made himself hard enough, it would takeaway the pain. If he couldn't feel, then he couldn't hurt.\n\nThe wounds in his side pulsed in agony. Fora time, he'd been able to forget them. But the deaths he had caused rubbed his soul raw. That list starting with Moiraine. Everything had begun to go wrong at her death. Before that, he'd still had hope.\n\nBefore that, he'd never been put in a box.\n\nHe understood what would be required of him, and he'd changed in the ways he thought he needed. Those changes were to keep him from being overwhelmed. Die to protect people he didn't know? Chosen to save mankind? Chosen to force the kingdoms of the world to unite behind him, destroying those who refused to listen? Chosen to cause the deaths of thousands who fought in his name, to hold those souls upon his shoulders, a weight that must be borne? What man could do these things and remain sane? The only way he had seen had been to cutoff his emotions, to make himself cuendillar.\n\nBut he had failed. He hadn't been able to stamp his feelings out. The voice inside had been so small, but it had pricked at him, like a needle making the smallest of holes in his heart. Even the smallest of holes would let the blood leak free." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Those holes would bleed him dry.\n\nThe quiet voice was gone now. It had vanished when he'd thrown Tam to the floor and nearly killed him. Without that voice, did Rand dare continue? If it was the last remnant of the old Rand-the Rand who had believed that he knew what was right and what was wrong-then what did its silence mean?\n\nRand picked up the access key and stood up, boots scraping stone. It was midday, though the sun still lay hidden behind the clouds. Below, he could see hills and forests, lakes and villages.\n\n\"And what if I don't want the Pattern to continue?\" he bellowed. He stepped forward, right to the edge of the rock, clutching the access key to his chest.\n\n\"We live the same lives!\" he yelled at them. \"Over and over and over. We make the same mistakes. Kingdoms do the same stupid things. Rulers fail their people time and time again. Men continue to hurt and hate and die and kill!\"\n\nWinds buffeted him, whipping at his brown cloak and his fine Tairen trousers. But his words carried, echoing across the broken rocks of Dragonmount. It was cold and crisp, the air new. His weave kept him warm enough to survive, but it did not stop the chill. He hadn't wanted it to.\n\n\"What if I think it's all meaningless?\" he demanded with the loud voice of a king. \"What if I don't want it to keep turning? We live our lives by the blood of others! And those others become forgotten. What good is it if everything we know will fade? Great deeds or great tragedies, neither means anything! They will become legends, then those legends will be forgotten, then it will all start over again!\"\n\nThe access key began to glow in his hands. The clouds above seemed to grow darker." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Rand's anger beat in rhythm with his heart, demanding to beset free.\n\n\"What if he is right?\" Rand bellowed. \"What if it's better for this all to end? What if the Light was a lie all along, and this is all just a punishment? We live again and again, growing feeble, dying, trapped forever. We are to be tortured for all time!\"\n\nPower flooded into Rand like surging waves filling anew ocean. He came to life, glorying in saidin, not caring that the display must be brilliantly visible to men everywhere who could channel. He felt himself alight with the Power, like a sun to the world below.\n\n\"NONE OF THIS MATTERS!\"\n\nHe closed his eyes, drawing in more and more power, feeling as he had only twice before. Once when he had cleansed saidin. Once when he had created this mountain.\n\nThen he drew in more.\n\nHe knew that much power would destroy him. He had stopped caring. Fury that had been building in him for two years finally boiled free, unleashed at long last. He spread his arms out wide, access key in his hand. Lews Therin had been right to kill himself and create Dragonmount. Only he hadn't gone far enough.\n\nRand could remember that day. The smoke, the rumbling, the sharp pains of a Healing bringing him back to lucidity as he lay in a broken palace. But those pains had paled compared with the agony of realization. Agony from seeing the beautiful walls scarred and broken. From seeing the piles of familiar corpses, tossed to the floor like discarded rags.\n\nFrom seeing Ilyena a short distance away, her golden hair spread out on the ground around her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He could feel the palace around him shaking from the earth's own sobs." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Or was that Dragonmount, throbbing from the immense power he had drawn into himself?\n\nHe could smell the air thick with blood and soot and death and pain. Or was that just the scent of a dying world, spread before him?\n\nThe winds began to whip at him, spinning, enormous clouds above twisting upon themselves, like ancient leviathans passing in the profound black deep.\n\nLews Therin had made a mistake. He had died, but had left the world alive, wounded, limping forward. He'd let the Wheel of Time keep turning, rotating, rotting and bringing him back around again. He could not escape it. Not without ending everything.\n\n\"Why?\" Rand whispered to the twisting winds around him. The Power coming to him through the access key was greater than he'd held when cleansing saidin. Perhaps greater than any man had ever held. Great enough to unravel the Pattern itself and bring final peace.\n\n\"Why do we have to do this again?\" he whispered. \"I have already failed. She is dead by my hand. Why must you make me live it again?\"\n\nLightning cracked above, thunder buffeting him. Rand closed his eyes, perched above a drop that plummeted thousands of feet downward, in the middle of a tempest of icy wind. Through his eyelids, he could sense the blazing light of the access key. The Power he held inside dwarfed that light. He was the sun. He was fire. He was life and death.\n\nWhy? Why must they do this over and over? The world could give him no answers.\n\nRand raised his arms high, a conduit of power and energy. An incarnation of death and destruction. He would end it. End it all and let men rest, finally, from their suffering." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Stop them from having to live over and over again. Why? Why had the Creator done this to them? Why?\n\nWhy do we live again? Lews Therin asked, suddenly. His voice was crisp and distinct.\n\nYes, Rand said, pleading. Tell me. Why?\n\nMaybe... Lews Therin said, shockingly lucid, not a hint of madness to him. He spoke softly, reverently. Why? Could it be... Maybe it's so that we can have a second chance.\n\nRand froze. The winds blew against him, but he could not be moved by them. The Power hesitated inside him, like the headsman's axe, held quivering above the criminal's neck. You may not have a choice about which duties are given you, Tam's voice, just a memory, said in his mind. But you can choose why you fulfill them.\n\nWhy, Rand? Why do you go to battle? What is the point?\n\nWhy?\n\nAll was still. Even with the tempest, the winds, the crashes of thunder. All was still.\n\nWhy? Rand thought with wonder. Because each time we live, we get to love again.\n\nThat was the answer. It all swept over him, lives lived, mistakes made, love changing everything. He saw the entire world in his mind's eye, lit by the glow in his hand. He remembered lives, hundreds of them, thousands of them, stretching to infinity. He remembered love, and peace, and joy, and hope.\n\nWithin that moment, suddenly something amazing occurred to him. If I live again, then she might as well!\n\nThat's why he fought. That's why he lived again, and that was the answer to Tam's question. I fight because last time, I failed. I fight because I want to fix what I did wrong." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I want to do it right this time.\n\nThe Power within him reached a crescendo, and he turned it upon itself, drove it through the access key. The ter'angreal was connected to a much greater force, a massive sa'angreal to the south, built to stop the Dark One. Too powerful, some had said. Too powerful ever to use. Too frightening.\n\nRand used its own power upon it, crushing the distant globe, shattering it as if in the grip of a giant's hands.\n\nThe Choedan Kal exploded.\n\nThe Power winked out.\n\nThe tempest ended.\n\nAnd Rand opened his eyes for the first time in a very long while. He knew-somehow-that he would never again hear Lews Therin's voice in his head. For they were not two men, and never had been.\n\nHe regarded the world beneath him. The clouds above had finally broken, if only just above him. The gloom dispersed, allowing him to seethe sun hanging just above.\n\nRand looked up at it. Then he smiled. Finally, he let out a deep-throated laugh, true and pure.\n\nIt had been far too long." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Egwene worked by the light of two bronze lamps. They were shaped like women holding their hands into the air, a burst of flame appearing in each set of palms. The calm yellow light reflected on the curves of their hands, arms and faces. Were they symbols of the White Tower and the Flame of Tar Valon? Or were they instead depictions of an Aes Sedai, weaving Fire? Perhaps they were simply relics of a previous Amyrlin's taste.\n\nThey sat on either side of her desk. A proper desk, finally, with a proper chair to sit upon. She was inside the Amyrlin's study, purged of any and all references to Elaida. That left it bare, the walls empty, the wood paneling unadorned by picture or tapestry, the end tables empty of works of art. Even the bookshelves had been emptied, lest something of Elaida's offend Egwene.\n\nThe moment Egwene had seen what the others had done, she had ordered all of Elaida's effects gathered and placed under secure lock, guarded by women Egwene trusted. Hidden among those effects would be clues to Elaida's plans. They might simply be hidden notes slipped between the pages of books, left for further review. Or they might be as obscure as connections between the types of books she'd been reading or the items she'd had in the desk drawers. But they didn't have Elaida herself to question, and there was no telling what schemes of hers would return to bite the White Tower at a later date. Egwene intended to look over those objects, then interview each and every Aes Sedai who had been in the Tower and determine what clues they hid.\n\nFor now, she had her hands full. She shook her head, turning over the pages of Silviana's report. The woman was proving to bean effective Keeper indeed, far more skilled than Sheriam had ever been. The loyalist women respected Silviana, and the Red Ajah seemed to have accepted-at least in part-Egwene's offer of peace in choosing one of their own as her Keeper." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Of course, Egwene also had two stiff letters of disapproval-one from Romanda and one from Lelaine-on the bottom of her stack. The two women had withdrawn their effusive support almost as quickly as they'd given it. Right now, they were arguing over what to do with the damane Egwene had captured during the White Tower raid, and neither one liked Egwene's plan to train them as Aes Sedai. Romanda and Lelaine would trouble her for years yet, it appeared.\n\nShe set the report aside. It was late afternoon, and light peeked through the slits of the louvered shutters to her balcony. She didn't open them, preferring the quiet dimness. The solitude felt nice.\n\nFor now, she didn't mind the room's sparse decorations. True, it reminded her just a little too much of the study of the Mistress of Novices, but no number of wall hangings would banish her memory of those days, not when Silviana herself was Egwene's Keeper. That was fine. Why would Egwene want to banish those days? They contained some of her most satisfying victories.\n\nThough she certainly didn't mind being able to sit without cringing.\n\nShe smiled faintly, scanning the next of Silviana's reports. Then she frowned. Most of the Black Ajah in the Tower had escaped. This report, written in Silviana's careful, flowing script, told that they had managed to seize some of the Blacks in the hours following Egwene's raising, but only the weakest of the lot. The majority of them-some sixty Black sisters-had escaped. Including one Sitter, as Egwene had noticed before, whose name had not been on Verin's list. Evanellein's disappearance indicated strongly that she was Black." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Egwene picked up another report, frowning to herself. It was a list of all the women in the White Tower, an extensive list several pages long, broken down by Ajah. Many names had a notation beside them. Black, escaped. Black, captured. Taken by the Seanchan.\n\nThat last group was galling. Saerin-acting with foresight-had taken a census following the attack to determine exactly who had been captured. Nearly forty initiates-over two dozen of them full Aes Sedai-snatched in the night and carried off. It was like a story told to children at bedtime, warning of Fades or Halfmen who stole wicked children. Those women would be beaten, confined and turned into nothing more than tools.\n\nEgwene had to steel herself from reaching up to feel her neck, where the collar had held her. She wasn't focusing on that right now, burn it all!\n\nEach of the Black Ajah members on Verin's list had been seen healthy and alive following the Seanchan attack. But most had escaped before Egwene arrived at the Tower to take her seat. Velina was gone. So were Chai and Birlen. And Alviarin; the Black hunters hadn't managed to get to her in time.\n\nWhat had tipped them off? Unfortunately, it had probably something to do with Egwene seizing the Black Ajah in the rebel camp. She had worried about overplaying her hand. But what else should she have done? Her only hope had been to seize every Black in the camp and hope that word didn't spread to the White Tower.\n\nBut it had. She'd captured the ones who remained, and had them executed. Then she'd resworn every sister in the Tower on the Oath Rod. They hadn't liked it, of course. But the knowledge that all of the women in the rebel camp had done it had swayed them. If it hadn't, the news that Egwene had ordered the execution of her own Keeper probably did. It had certainly been a relief when Silviana had offered to swear first, in front of the entire Hall, to prove herself. Egwene had followed by reswearing herself, then told the Hall truthfully that she had watched each and every woman in the camp prove that she wasn't a Darkfriend. They'd captured three more Black sisters who hadn't been on Verin's list. Only three. What accuracy! Verin had proven herself once again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Egwene set aside the report. Knowledge of those who had escaped still chewed at her. She had known the names of sixty Darkfriends, and they had escaped her grasp. That number reached to eighty if she included those who had escaped from the rebel camp.\n\nI will find you, Alviarin, Egwene thought, tapping the sheet with her finger. I will find you all. You were a rot within the Tower itself. The worst kind of rot. I will not let you spread it.\n\nShe set the sheet aside and picked up another. This one bore only a few names. A list of all the women in the Tower who had not been on Verin's list and who had either been taken by the Seanchan, or had disappeared following the attack.\n\nVerin had believed that one of the Forsaken, Mesaana, was hiding in the Tower. Sheriam's confession corroborated this. Egwene's task of reswearing every Aes Sedai on the Rod had revealed no Darkfriends of great power. Hopefully, the reswearing itself would ease the tension between the Ajahs. They could stop worrying if there were Blacks in their midst. Of course, it could very well weaken the Aes Sedai by giving proof that the Black Ajah had indeed existed in the first place.\n\nEither way, Egwene had a problem. She looked over the sheet before her. Each woman in the White Tower had proven that she was not a Darkfriend. Each woman on Verin's list was accounted for. She'd been executed, she'd been captured, she'd fled the White Tower the day of Egwene's ascension, she'd been taken by the Seanchan or she was out of the Tower at the moment-and had been for sometime. The sisters had instructions to watch for those." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Perhaps they'd been lucky, and the Forsaken was one of those women who had been taken by the Seanchan. But Egwene didn't believe in that kind of luck. One of the Forsaken would not be captured so easily. She'd probably known about the attack in the first place.\n\nThat left the three names on the list in front of Egwene. Nalasia Merhan, a Brown; Teramina, a Green; and Jamilila Norsish, a Red. All were very weak in the Power. And the women on this list had all been in the Tower for years. It seemed implausible that Mesaana had been impersonating one of them and doing it so well that her subterfuge hadn't been noticed.\n\nEgwene had a feeling. A premonition, perhaps. At the very least, a fear. These three names were the only ones who could have been the Forsaken. But none of them fit, not at all. That gave her a chill. Was Mesaana still hiding in the Tower?\n\nIf so, she somehow knew how to defeat the Oath Rod.\n\nA soft knock came at her door. It cracked a moment later. \"Mother?\" Silviana asked.\n\nEgwene looked up, raising her eyebrows.\n\n\"I thought you might want to see this,\" Silviana said, entering, her hair back in its tidy black bun, the red Keeper's stole around her shoulders.\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\n\"You should come and see.\"\n\nCurious, Egwene rose. There was no tension to Silviana's voice, so it couldn't be anything too dire. The two of them left the study behind, walking around the outside of the building to the Hall of the Tower. When they reached it, Egwene raised an eyebrow. Silviana gestured for her to enter." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Hall wasn't in session, and the chairs sat empty." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A scattering of mason's tools lay on white sheets in the corner, and a group of workers in thick brown overalls and white shirts-sleeves rolled up-were collected in front of the gap in the wall that the Seanchan had left. Egwene had ordered arose window fitted into the opening instead of having it sealed up completely, a remembrance for the time the White Tower had been attacked. A warning to prevent its happening again. Before the window could be installed, however, stonemasons were busy shoring up the sides and creating the fitting.\n\nEgwene and Silviana glided into the room, walking down the short ramp to the floor, which had again been properly painted with the colors of all seven Ajahs. The stonemasons saw them, then backed away respectfully, one man pulling off his cap and clutching it to his chest. Reaching the edge of the room, just before the opening, Egwene finally saw what Silviana had brought her to see.\n\nAfter all this time, the clouds had finally broken. They had pulled back in a ring around Dragonmount. The sun shone down, radiant, lighting the distant, snowcapped crag. The broken maw and uppermost peak of the blasted mountainside were bathed in light. It was the first time Egwene could remember seeing direct sunlight in weeks. Perhaps longer.\n\n\"Some novices noticed it first, Mother,\" Silviana said, stepping up beside her. \"And news spread quickly. Who would have thought that a little ring of sunlight would cause such astir? It's such a simple thing, really. Nothing we haven't seen before. But....\"\n\nThere was something beautiful about it. The light streaming down in a column, strong and pure. Distant, yet striking. It was like something forgotten, but somehow still familiar, shining forth from a distant memory to bring warmth again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What does it mean?\" Silviana asked.\n\n\"I don't know,\" Egwene said. \"But I welcome the sight of it.\" She hesitated. \"That opening in the clouds is too even to be natural. Mark this day on the calendars, Silviana. Something has happened. Perhaps, eventually, we shall know the truth of it.\"\n\n\"Yes, Mother,\" Silviana said, looking out through the gap again.\n\nEgwene stood with her, rather than returning to her study immediately. It felt relaxing to stare out at that distant light, so welcoming and noble. \"Storms will soon come,\" it seemed to say. \"But for now, I am here.\"\n\nI am here." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At the end of time,\n\nwhen the many become one,\n\nthe last storm shall gather its angry winds\n\nto destroy a land already dying.\n\nAnd at its center,\n\nthe blind man shall stand\n\nupon his own grave.\n\nThere he shall see again,\n\nand weep for what has been wrought." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Helping the author, keep the tale going.\nTags: fantasy, flintlock fantasy, military\nAuthor: Django Wexler\nTitle: The Guns of Empire\nChapter: 5" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The last of the spring storms was always the most violent, and this one was a monster, lashing the desolate mountainside with wind and rain. Lightning crackled among the towering clouds and speared down in blinding white bolts to strike the spires of Elysium. The fortress-city clung to the mountain like a barnacle on a rock, hunkered down against the fury of the heavens. It had stood for nearly a thousand years, and no storm had washed it away yet.\n\nBut the downpour would end soon, and with it the rainy season, giving way to the hot, dry summer of northern Murnsk. The roads would dry and the fields would turn green with crops, and another sort of storm would come, a storm of men and cannon that was powerful enough to sweep even Elysium from its perch. The high, straight stonewalls that had made the city impregnable in an earlier era were useless in this age of field-guns and mortars.\n\nThe Pontifex of the Black stood in a triangular room and waited for his colleagues, listening to the gurgle of water through a thousand hidden channels and the occasional distant grumble of thunder. He imagined the thunder magnified a hundredfold, cannonballs smashing the holy city to pieces above his head. Tearing down the great walls, ripping through the libraries and dormitories and the innumerable chapels with their patron saints. Destroying his life's work, and the work of his predecessors, stretching back in an unbroken chain to Elleusis Ligamenti and then to Karis the Savior himself.\n\nFor one thousand, two hundred, and nine years, the Priests of the Black had performed their sacred duty and the ignorant world had been kept safe from the Beast of Judgment. They had cut abroad swath through the armies of hell, imprisoning every fiend within their reach, until demons and sorcerers had faded in the mind of the common man to nothing more than stories and legends. And all this work-all the good the Church had ever done, all that they'd bought with Karis\" sacrifice-could be erased, the prisons opened and the demons scattered to the winds, the Beast itself unleashed once more." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "No, the pontifex thought. Not while I have the watch. No matter what those other fools may say.\n\nThe door opened with a squeal of rusty hinges, raising a cloud of dust. This meeting room had gone officially unused since the supposed dissolution of the Priests of the Black, the two remaining Church leaders preferring to meet in more elevated surroundings. In normal times, the Pontifex of the Black might see them once every few years, the shadow order going about its business in the depths of the city, invisible to the red-and white-robed priests who walked in the light of day. But these, of course, were not normal times.\n\nThe Pontifex of the White entered, his spotless robe instantly acquiring a fine patina of gray as the dust settled. He was an old man whose tall gold-edged hat concealed his balding pate. He glanced up at the Black and grunted a greeting, picking his way carefully across the moldy carpet to the ornate table. Pulling back one of the tall chairs produced another wave of dust.\n\n\"Still raining,\" the White said, fruitlessly brushing at the velvet seat with one hand. \"It brings me aches, you know. I've asked the Lord why it should be that rain outside makes my bones ache inhere, but He hasn't deigned to answer.\"\n\nHe sat down, easing into the chair with an exaggerated sigh. The Pontifex of the Black remained standing.\n\n\"When you get to my age,\" the White said, \"you start to question the wisdom of building your holy city on the side of a mountain a thousand miles from anywhere.\"\n\n\"I believe,\" the Black said, unable to stop himself from rising to the bait, \"it was intended to focus the mind on the contemplation of the divine.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You may need help concentrating on the contemplation of the divine, but I don't,\" the White said. \"It's been sixty years and I'm quite good at it. I could contemplate the divine quite handily in a warm garden somewhere, I assure you. Out here we freeze, drown, or fry by turns.\"\n\n\"Take it up with Saint Ligamenti.\"\n\n\"Believe me, on the day the Lord sees fit to scoop me up, I certainly intend to.\"\n\nAnd we all devoutly wish that day comes soon, the Black thought. Not that any potential replacement was likely to be better. The Priests of the White were more than adequately supplied with pompous, overbearing fools.\n\n\"Have you started already?\" said the Pontifex of the Red, pushing through the half-open door. He was younger than either of his colleagues, with a bulbous, beet-colored nose and eyebrows like overgrown hedges.\n\n\"Only pleasantries, Brother,\" the Black said. His voice was a harsh rasp, legacy of a childhood illness that had nearly killed him. \"Our Brother of the White was discussing the weather. He had observed that it is still raining.\"\n\n\"It does that this time of year.\" The Red took his seat, heedless of the dust.\n\nThe Black followed, more slowly. The three of them sat around the triangular table that had once been the ultimate seat of power for the entire continent, stared atone another, and wondered who would speak first.\n\n\"The Vordanai have called for an armistice,\" the Red said, breaking the stalemate. \"Representatives are gathering in Talbonn. Vhalnich and the queen will be there.\"\n\nAlone of the three, the Pontifex of the Black was masked, wearing the glittering obsidian that marked his order. It concealed his expression, which meant he could allow himself a silent snarl. Vhalnich. The Vordanai general was at the center of everything. The Church had summoned its allies to war after Vhalnich had overthrown their puppet Orlanko in Vordan, only to watch the accursed man smash through armies and fortresses with alarming ease. Now, as the war entered its second year, Vhalnich had consolidated his power as First Consul of the Kingdom of Vordan, answering only to Queen Raesinia." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Who is the emperor sending?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "the White asked.\n\n\"Prince Dzurk.\"\n\n\"An oaf,\" the Black said.\n\n\"But an important oaf,\" the Red said. \"Third inline for the throne of Murnsk. And the Borelgai have sent Duke Dorsay.\"\n\n\"If they can still lift him onto a horse,\" the White said. \"That fossil has been fighting battles since I was a boy.\"\n\n\"Three armies camped across the border from one another,\" the Red said. \"And four great powers at the negotiating table. The question is, what will the Vordanai offer?\"\n\n\"The Hamveltai will accept anything as long as it means peace,\" the White groused. \"After the whipping they took in the autumn, they're practically begging Vhalnich to leave them be.\"\n\n\"Viadre is divided,\" the Red said. \"Quite a few in the Borelgai court want to recognize the revolution as an accomplished fact, especially now that Vhalnich has put the queen back in control. Wars are bad for business. And by sending Dzurk, the emperor indicates he is at least listening.\"\n\n\"Then this conference must be stopped,\" the Black said. \"The war must goon for as long as it takes.\" He slammed his hand down on the table, raising a plume of dust. The other two men stared at him.\n\n\"We brought the great powers to war,\" the Red said after a moment. \"It wasn't difficult, when Vordan seemed weakened by revolution. There were spoils to be had, or so they all assumed. But now? The Vordanai will not have spent the winter idle, and Vhalnich seems invincible in the field. The prospects are suddenly no longer so pleasant.\"\n\n\"This is not about prospects or spoils,\" the Black said. \"They must be commanded-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Church does not command,\" the Red said. \"Not in the secular world. We advise. We suggest. And if we push too hard against the current of history, we risk being shoved aside. The day the King of Borel or the Emperor of Murnsk thinks to himself, \"But how many battalions can the Pontifex of the Red send against me?\" is the day our power disappears forever.\"\n\n\"If the emperor defies us, we can destroy him,\" the Black grated. \"If we declare him in violation of Church law, the peasants of Murnsk will rise up-\"\n\n\"And then who will fight the Vordanai?\" the Red said.\n\nThere was along silence.\n\n\"You are saying there will be peace,\" the Black said.\n\n\"I am saying we must let matters take their course,\" the Red said. \"Sometimes it is best to step aside.\"\n\n\"Vhalnich is dangerous,\" the Black said. Why can't they see it? \"Not just to Vordan, but to the world. He has the Thousand Names, the greatest archive of demonic lore outside these walls. And he has the help of the servants of the Beast! The old heresy has survived, and who knows how strong it has grown out in the forgotten corners of the world?\"\n\n\"So you say,\" the White huffed. \"We have only the conjecture of your agent.\"\n\n\"Shade has proved his trustworthiness many times over,\" the Black said. \"We cannot afford to ignore his warning. If it's true, if Vhalnich is a pawn for the old Mages, then he will not be content with ruling Vordan. He will come here and unleash the destruction we have stood against for so long.\"\n\n\"I think you are frightened of him, Brother,\" the White said. \"Is it because he has beaten you? You have sent your monsters and freaks against Vhalnich, all to no avail. Your order is charged with the suppression of sorcery and heresy, and it sounds tome like you have failed.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Pontifex of the Black gritted his teeth." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The White supposedly took no interest in the affairs of the temporal world, but the old man was always too well informed.\n\n\"I am frightened of him,\" the Black said. \"And you should be as well. The whole world should be. He is the greatest threat we have faced since the Schism, and the Church must be united against him.\" He slammed his hand on the table again. \"Tell me, Brothers, wherein our vows do we swear to stand against the darkness whenever it is politically convenient?\"\n\nLooking from one face to the other, he knew he had lost.\n\n\"I think,\" the Red said, \"that peace could bean advantage. After all, Vhalnich can hardly march an army to Elysium if he has just signed an armistice with the emperor. While the negotiations dragon, I'm sure we can trust our brother of the Black to handle things... more discreetly.\"\n\n\"You've made this mess,\" the White snapped. \"You're going to have to clean it up.\"\n\nThere was along silence, and then the Pontifex of the Black got to his feet. \"Very well, Brothers,\" he said. \"If you'll excuse me, I have preparations to make.\"\n\n-\n\n\"Disaster,\" the Black said, stalking through the underground corridors. \"It stares them in the face, and still they won't act.\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Excellence,\" said the scribe, hurrying to keep up with his master's long strides. A torchbearer and two armed and masked priests followed behind.\n\n\"Tell the communicators I will wish to speak to Shade,\" the Black said. Shade-Ionkovo, as he was known to the world-was with Duke Orlanko and the Borelgai. \"How long until Mirror reaches Talbonn?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The scribe shuffled the papers in his hands." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Still several weeks, Your Excellence, even with favorable roads.\"\n\nThe pontifex cursed silently. There were stories of demons who could transport themselves across the world in an eyeblink, but no such creature had ever been found by the diligent agents of the Priests of the Black. The paired communicators could throw his voice to the other side of the continent, but someone had to be on the other end to act on his words. And with the apparent destruction of his best field team in Vordan, the ranks of the Penitent Damned had grown thin.\n\nThere had never been as many of the demonic assassins as legend held. Individuals strong enough to bear a demon's weight on their soul and selfless enough to accept eternal torment to aid the salvation of others were hard to find, and in any case the Church did not wish to risk unleashing too many fiends. Of those they did create, many never left Elysium, using their powers to mend or speak or scribe. Others were tucked away allover the world, influencing local events and watching for signs of sorcery. Only a minority of demons were truly useful in battle, and many years of training were often required before a Penitent could be trusted in the outside world.\n\nIt was easy for his brothers in the White and Red to say that Vhalnich was his problem to resolve. The man was canny, and protected by at least one powerful demon. But not invincible. An opportunity will come. With a wrench, he turned his mind to the other pressing matter.\n\n\"What about the search for the host?\" he said. \"Any progress?\"\n\nThe scribe brightened. \"Apparently so, Your Excellence. The fifty-fourth subject is in the eighth hour of recitation, and Father Milovic believes she may have the strength to complete the invocation.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Finally. It had been nearly a year this time. \"I'll see her for myself.\"\n\n-\n\nThe Pontifex of the Black descended.\n\nDown, down, down, past the basements that housed the bulk of the Priests of the Black, past the prison levels where the demons were bound, endless corridors of barred cells, each inscribed with the name of a fiend. The greatest demons had grand, poetic names-the Panoply Invisible, Wraith of Shadows, Caryatid-but the majority, those captured in relatively recent days, were more prosaic. Farsight #14, Heat Protection, Earth-Shaping #3.\n\nEach cell contained a miserable wretch of a manor woman, serving as a host for the demon so named. Some of them were'wild,\" captured by the agents of the Church, but most had been created herein Elysium, forced to recite the names of the creatures they now bore. It all went back to the discoveries of Elleusis Ligamenti, the founding genius of the order. First, that while some poor souls were infected with demons'naturally\" at birth, the creatures could be summoned more reliably by the recitation of their names. Second, that these names could be deduced by careful experimentation on captive subjects. And third, most important, that demons were singular-once summoned into a host, they were trapped there until the host died, unable to spread their evil to others.\n\nThose revelations had transformed the early Church. Instead of burning those who carried demons, the Priests of the Black began to collect them, imprisoning their hosts and learning their names. When a host died, another was created, a prisoner of the Church forced to recite the name of the demon and take the dead vessel's place. Thus, one by one, the creatures of hell were removed from the world, bound up where they could not imperil the souls of the faithful. The monsters and sorcerers faded away as fewer and fewer children were born with the taint." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Down, down, down. Past the cells, past the torture chambers where the Priests of the Black teased the names from their latest captives. Into the very bones of the mountain, where the air became hot and the walls were slick with moisture from the hot springs Elysium had been built on top of.\n\nThe dangerous time for any demon was the period between when one vessel died and anew one was found. Not everyone had the strength to carry such a creature in their soul, and the greater the demon, the greater the strength required. During that interval, the demon was loose, free to be born into the world in some unlucky child. Fortunately, the more powerful the demon, the less likely it was to appear in such away. To date, only minor demons had contrived to escape, but the threat was always there.\n\nAt the very bottom of the long, spiral stair, a small suite of rooms was locked behind thick iron doors. Water dripped from ceiling to floor in a steady rhythm, pooling between the flagstones. Fungus grew in forgotten corners, and the air smelled of rot. This was the home of the greatest prisoner of all, the one the Church had been, in some sense, created to control. The Beast of Judgment, sent by God to destroy the world for the crimes of humanity.\n\nAs the common folk told the story, Karis'intercession had moved God to mercy, and the Beast had been banished until the postponed Day of Judgment. Only the Priests of the Black knew that the Beast was still here, bound by Karis himself, locked into a host so as to never again be born into the world. When the Beast's host died, the Priests of the Black searched the land for the strongest souls and brought them hereto test against the great name. Most died, unable to bear the burden. Once, the search had lasted for more than three years, and priests began to wonder openly if God's mercy had finally been revoked." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The last host had been in his fifties, dying unexpectedly of a vicious rot in his lungs. As the scribe had informed the pontifex, fifty-three potential hosts had begun to recite the name and all had failed, to be carried up the stairs in shrouds and interred in Elysium's endless catacombs. The Pontifex of the Black slipped between the obsidian-masked guards and entered the chamber where the fifty-fourth was making the attempt.\n\n\"... sa li nu pha vo ret kay...\"\n\nHer voice was a hoarse, ragged whisper. She sat on a wooden stool in the center of the empty room, staring fixedly ahead. A masked priest held along scroll of waxed paper, unrolling it at a steady pace to reveal large, neat letters. An endless string of nonsense syllables. Seven more fat scrolls lay stacked by the priest's feet. Together they made up the dread name that would summon the Beast into a mortal body. Reciting the name required some ten hours, and once begun, any pause could be fatal.\n\n\"... ga no ai ka ree cor...\"\n\nAnother, more senior priest scurried over at the sight of the visitor. Even under the obsidian mask, the pontifex recognized Father Milovic, who was leading the search for the new vessel.\n\n\"Your Excellence,\" Milovic said. \"We are honored.\"\n\n\"I heard you had made some progress.\"\n\nMilovic rubbed his hands together, one squirming inside the other. \"We don't like to count chickens before they've hatched, of course. But I admit I have my hopes for this one. She has a very strong will, and if God allows her to bear the Beast, she is healthy enough to last for many years.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Where did she come from?\"\n\n\"Vordan,\" the priest said. \"Brought in by Shade, I believe, before he departed on his latest assignment.\"\n\nOh, yes. Ionkovo had chuckled when he'd told the story of how he'd acquired his prize, though the pontifex, more focused on the failures at Vordan City, hadn't seen the humor. Still, she'd known Ihernglass and Vhalnich, so she'd been thoroughly interrogated before being sent to the ever-hungry queue of potential hosts. Now she looked like all the rest, hair shaved back to a pale red stubble, dressed in a shapeless gray coverall. Her green eyes gleamed in the lamplight as she stared fixedly at the scroll unrolling before her, mouth shaping the words.\n\n\"... fa mo que bin xe za...\"\n\n\"If she does succeed, inform meat once,\" the pontifex said. \"I will wish to speak to her. To it.\"\n\n\"Of course, Your Excellence.\"\n\nTo speak with the Beast of Judgment was the sole privilege of the Pontifex of the Black. The Beast was ancient and cunning, and possessed much useful knowledge. Only the pontifex was considered wise enough to exchange words with it without risking his immortal soul. This Pontifex of the Black had spoken to the creature only once, on the day of his investiture, and had promised himself not to make use of it again. But these are not normal times.\n\n-\n\n\"... ha ren fo la wu bey...\"\n\nShe pulled the trigger.\n\nNo, no, no, no. I didn't want to, not Winter, not Winter-\n\nShe pulled the trigger. The hammer came down. And then-" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Laughter, bubbling up inside her. Because-\n\n-this is what it feels like to go mad-\n\nAll she ever wanted was Winter. To hold her, to kiss her. To watch her eyes go wide when I touch her, and hear that little gasp...\n\nShe pulled the trigger. Because she was angry.\n\nAt Vhalnich! Why can't anyone see what he really is?\n\n\"... zur ket ub gin lo po...\"\n\nJane was alone in the universe, hanging in darkness. In the distance, someone was chanting nonsense words, a hoarse, torn voice that was almost familiar. Something was closing in around her, rasping across her skin, twining gently around her hands and feet. It felt like silk, but cold as a winter stream. It pulled her through the darkness, down, down, down.\n\nAm I dead?\n\nNot yet, something replied.\n\nIs this my hell? The Prison burning. Mrs. Wilmore, staggering like a drunk, blood gushing from her mouth. The screams from the farmhouse. I pulled the trigger.\n\nIt maybe, something said, that it is.\n\nThe black silk wound farther up her limbs. She felt it brush the back of her neck. Her hands and feet tingled from the cold, and she could hear the rapid thump of her heartbeat.\n\nIs it death that you want? something asked.\n\nI want... Winter, running her fingers through long, red hair. The look in her eyes after they'd fought the tax farmers. The look in her eyes when I pulled the trigger.\n\n\"... kei ni si get... hi... s-sen...\"\n\nThe black silk knotted tighter, cold spreading through her body. Her heart slammed against her ribs, hesitated, skipped a beat, double-thumped." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jane Verity, something said, what do you want?\n\nWinter. The way she used to be, before. The way she ought to be. Before Vhalnich got his poison into her. I want her. Anger flared, hot and bright, and her heartbeat strengthened. And I want him.\n\nI can give you what you want, something said.\n\n\"... f-fa... gil... t-t-...\"\n\nAnything you want, something said.\n\nFor what? What's the price?\n\nEverything, something answered.\n\n\"... tif... n-n-...\"\n\nThe cold reached Jane's core. If she hesitated, she would die, frozen and alone, dragged into the endless dark.\n\nI pulled the trigger-\n\nI can fix it. I can still have her. I can still have-\n\nEverything, something said.\n\nI accept.\n\n\"... ni ga vo tar!\"\n\nBlack silk wrapped itself around her, like a shroud.\n\n-\n\nThe Beast opened its eyes.\n\nIt could see nothing. Something was wrapped around its head, a heavy metal blindfold. It could feel the weight of the iron. Shackles at its wrists, shackles at its feet.\n\n\"Can you understand me?\" The voice was a thick rasp.\n\nThe Beast stretched, savoring the aches and pains of its new body. Jane Verity. She was part of it now, in the way afield mouse becomes part of the snake that swallows it.\n\n\"Can you understand?\" the voice said again. A familiar voice.\n\n\"I can understand you, Zakhar Vakhaven.\" The Beast smiled, tongue scraping over dry lips. \"I remember you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Alex stared up at the road from the ditch and licked her lips.\n\nThree men. Four horses.\n\nThey were uhlans, light cavalry from the emperor's regular army, with tall embroidered caps and smart uniforms. Their horses were good ones, and the saddlebags practically bulged with provisions and supplies.\n\nThey probably have wool socks. For the past three nights, ever since she'd abandoned the last husks of her shoes rather than try to repair them for the hundredth time, Alex had been lusting after wool socks. In the old days she'd hardly ever thought about socks. They'd been hers for the asking, along with clever, noiseless shoes perfect for sneaking across rooftops or padding down darkened halls. Now she was barefoot, and the stony ground of Murnsk had sliced and blistered her feet.\n\nSocks, she had to admit, were probably not the most important thing in those saddlebags. If she was going to make it, she needed food, and most of all she needed those horses. They were therefor the taking, and all that stood in her way were three young men who'd done nothing worse than sign up to wear a fancy uniform and ride in parades.\n\nThey work for the emperor, which means they work for Elysium, which means they work for the Black Priests, whether they know it or not. But Alex knew that was thin. All of Murnsk works for the emperor, in the end. Does that make them all just as guilty? She'd been a thief-the best thief in the world-but she'd never thought of herself as a murderer. Once, she'd kept a count of the men she'd killed, when she absolutely couldn't avoid it. Now she'd lost track, or purposely forgotten." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It had been three days since she'd eaten, and that had been a squirrel she'd clumsily skinned herself, a few mouthfuls of stringy muscle and fat.\n\nNow is not the time for second thoughts. She'd left the Mountain because she loved Abraham and very much thought she loved Maxwell, and also because the two of them were the most sanctimonious, infuriating pair she'd ever met. They all agreed what had to be done, but even when an opportunity fell into their laps they refused to take it. So Alex had decided to take it for them.\n\nShe stared at the three men. Abraham would have told her to wait, not to be impulsive, to consider other ways of getting the supplies she needed. Easy for him to say. He's not eating squirrel.\n\nIn the end, what decided her was the thought of going back. It seemed like the only alternative, apart from dying of starvation, and she couldn't bear to think what they'd say to her. Especially Maxwell, with everything she'd said to him before she left. Bullheaded stubbornness was probably a poor reason to decide to kill three men, she thought, but honestly, did the reason really matter? Maxwell and his tutor can debate it in their endless hairsplitting.\n\nShe rose from the tall grass and climbed out of the ditch, just beside where the three uhlans stood together, talking and smoking. One of them noticed her and did a double take, tossing his pipe down and putting his hand on his sword.\n\n\"Hey there!\" he said. \"Stop!\"\n\nThe senior of the three regarded her and sniffed. \"You'll begetting no charity from us. Off with you.\"\n\n\"I believe it's a girl.\" The third uhlan peered closer. \"Are you selling, is that it? I'll give you a box of hardtack fora quick ride.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I can't believe you,\" the first said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"She's filthy.\"\n\nThe third uhlan shrugged. \"Cunny is cunny.\"\n\nWell, Alex thought, that makes this a little easier.\n\nShe raised her hands and exerted her will. Two globes of darkness formed around her fingers, congealing out of the late-afternoon shadows like pools of ink. As the uhlans gaped, the darkness formed itself into three long, thin needles and stabbed out to catch each man just above the bridge of his nose, punching effortlessly through flesh and bone. A moment later the three tendrils withdrew, and the uhlans collapsed like puppets with their strings cut, blood leaking from neat holes in their brows the size of a pencil.\n\nAlex let out a ragged breath. Done. There was no taking it back. Now food, and socks, and-\n\nThere was the crack of a pistol shot, and she stumbled forward, as though she'd been punched in the side. She managed to stay on her feet, turning to see a fourth uhlan stumbling out of the opposite ditch, his pants still unfastened. He was fumbling with his pistol, clawing at the pouch on his belt for another cartridge.\n\n\"Demon!\" he shouted. \"M-m-monster-\"\n\nAnother line of darkness speared out, going through his throat like a flat-bladed spear. When it withdrew, blood fountained, drowning his cries.\n\nFour horses, Alex thought muzzily, and four men.\n\nShe found herself lying on the ground, with no memory of how she'd gotten there. One of the horses had come over to investigate her, its hot breath brushing her face. Her side stung, the first tendrils of a pain that promised much worse to come." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Getup. Find out how bad it is. Alex closed her eyes, then forced them open. I didn't give up when they had me chained to the bed of a cart. I'm not giving up now.\n\nShe raised her head and fumbled with her shirt. It was slick with blood, but it seemed to be leaking, rather than spurting, which was probably good. Her probing fingers found the wound, all the way to one side of her torso. She tried to remember long-ago lessons. If the ball had torn her guts, she would fester and die, sure as sunrise, but she didn't think it had.\n\nI could go back to the Mountain. If she could make it that far, Abraham would help her whether he was angry at her or not. I could...\n\nNo.\n\nSlowly, one hand pressed against her side, Alex sat up, then got to her feet. Gritting her teeth through the pain, she stumbled toward the nearest horse and pulled open the saddlebags, looking for bandages.\n\nThe horses would take her south. And somewhere to the south was Janus bet Vhalnich and the army of Vordan, and the best chance she would ever have to get her revenge on the Priests of the Black." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Talbonn was not a city with a great deal to recommend it, in Raesinia's opinion.\n\nIt stood at Vordan's northern frontier, the last major settlement before the Murnskai border. The highway that passed through it was an important artery of commerce, but it didn't look the part. It barely looked like a road at all, more like a track worn in the mud by a bunch of animals all going the same way. Which was more or less the truth-the biggest trade here was cattle from the Transpale, driven north along this road in exchange for heavy wagonloads of timber andiron from the freezing forests of vast, empty Murnsk. Talbonn was the sort of city that grows up to cater to carters and cattlemen, with filthy, stinking streets, low, mean buildings, and an overabundance of winesinks and whorehouses.\n\nNevertheless, it had made an effort to rise to the occasion. Uniformed armsmen stood at regular intervals along the main road, which had been swept clean of dung and broken glass for the benefit of the noble visitors. The largest hotel in the city, which called itself the Grand in pale imitation of the real thing back in Vordan, was a four-story eyesore of plaster and gilt with pretensions to architecture, covered with unnecessary buttresses and ornamental balconies. Raesinia rolled her eyes at it as her carriage drew closer and pulled into the circular drive, passing footmen with too many shiny buttons.\n\n\"When we stop,\" Sothe said, \"remember not to open the door until the second carriage pulls up.\"\n\n\"We've been over this,\" Raesinia said. \"More than once.\"\n\n\"Forgive me,\" Sothe said. \"You have a habit of ignoring my instructions.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That brought a faint smile to Raesinia's lips. Her Head of Household was as jumpy as a startled cat, unhappy at how hastily the conference had been assembled and how little time she'd been given to secure the site. Though, truth be told, Raesinia wasn't sure any amount of time would have been enough for Sothe to feel comfortable. It had been almost six months since their clash with the Penitent Damned, but the attack of the supernatural assassins had clearly left a deep impression. Sothe opened every door as though she expected to find a murderous Black Priest behind it.\n\nThe carriage drew to a halt, and a few moments later Raesinia heard the second vehicle draw up behind it. Booted feet crunched on the gravel, and there was a rap at the door.\n\n\"Your Majesty?\" Barely said from outside. \"We're ready.\"\n\nRaesinia glanced at Sothe and got a slight nod. She stood, hardly needing to duck to fit through the doorway, and stepped out.\n\nAt least wartime was good for banishing some of the more ridiculous formality of the royal court. Raesinia wore a sober dress of black and gray, with a sash in Vordanai blue providing the only splash of color. She'd impressed upon her dressmakers that it wouldn't do to have the queen going around in some gaudy confection while Vordanai soldiers were risking their lives at the front. Sothe, coming behind her, was dressed even more severely, in along, dark skirt that Raesinia assumed provided plenty of space for concealed weapons. As an ex-Concordat assassin, Sothe never went unarmed.\n\nHer guards formed a loose ring around the carriage. She'd restored the old Grenadier Guards to their traditional position of protecting the person of the monarch, but insisted on adding a few of Colonel Ihernglass\" Girls'Own to her security detail. The Grenadier Guards looked handsome, with their tailored uniforms, polished caps, and colorful sashes, but they hadn't been very effective the last time it had come to a fight." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The two women Ihernglass had left her, in contrast, had been part of the group that had rescued her from Maurisk and Ionkovo during the last throes of the previous year's fighting. Corporal Barley was universally known as'Barely,\" the joke being that with her slight stature she was barely thereat all. She was a canny soldier, though, and a deadly fighter. Her companion, the mute Joanna, was afoot taller and built like a blacksmith. Raesinia had a good deal more faith in these veterans-and Sothe's diligence-than in the spit-and-polish men of the Guards.\n\nMore local armsmen stood at the entrance to the hotel. A bowing footman led the way inside, Raesinia and Sothe at the center of a column of smart blue uniforms. They wound their way through the lobby, drawing bows and stares from the curious staff, and toward the ballroom. Sothe accepted a scrap of paper from a hurrying messenger, glanced at it, and bent close to Raesinia's ear.\n\n\"Everyone's here, except for Janus. Apparently there's been a delay on the road.\"\n\nRaesinia frowned. They'd deliberately tried to arrive after the First Consul, just to make the relative hierarchy clear to the foreign guests. Did he anticipate that? Is this a message? Or, of course, a cart-horse could have thrown a shoe.\n\n\"There's more.\" Sothe grimaced. \"Orlanko is here.\"\n\n\"What?\" Raesinia hissed.\n\nOrlanko, the infamous Last Duke, had been the head of the Concordat secret police and had tried to seize power after her father's death. His coup had been thwarted with Janus\" help, but the man himself had fled the country after his final attempt to turn the army against Raesinia had failed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"As a guest of the Borelgai. The king's given him shelter.\" Sothe lowered her voice even further. \"Do you want me to put together a squad to arrest him?\"\n\nDamnation. Satisfying as it might be, she couldn't, not without driving the Borels away from the conference table. Whatever their true intentions, they couldn't allow the capture of a guest under their protection.\n\n\"No,\" Raesinia said. \"But you'd better stay clear.\" Sothe had once been one of Orlanko's best killers, and Raesinia had no idea if he was aware of her current role. Easier to play it safe. \"I'll keep Barely and Jo with me. Have the Guards keep an eye on their foreign counterparts.\"\n\nSothe nodded. At the entrance to the ballroom, she and the Grenadier Guards peeled off, and Raesinia continued to the double doors with only the two women from the Girls' Own for escort. Footmen pushed the doors open, and a butler with a carrying voice announced, \"Her Majesty Queen Raesinia Orboan of Vordan!\"\n\nI must begetting used to this. She hardly flinched at the introduction, or the sudden stares from everyone in the big room. Once, the suffocating blanket of official attention might have driven her to flee; now she only had to take a deep breath before gliding forward, her old court training automatically making her steps careful and smooth.\n\nThe ballroom, like the hotel, was dressed up to look like something it wasn't. Gaudy hangings covered the walls, and a hundred lamps hung from the ceiling. But there was noway to disguise the awkward, boxy lines of the room. Raesinia pictured it being used for cattlemen's rustic dances once the dignitaries had departed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "No dancing seemed likely today. Small tables were covered with food and tiny glasses of wine, and hotel staff circulated among the guests, offering pastries. There were soldiers, in the uniforms of four countries-Vordanai blue, the yellow and black of Hamvelt, Borelgai mud red, and Murnskai white. Men in shabby suits were probably clerks, while those more impressively attired were civilian officials of their governments. Raesinia had the feeling that she, Barely, and Joanna were the only women in the room.\n\nIt was easy to see where the nexuses of power lay, just by watching the movement of the crowd. Lesser lights orbited dense knots of conversation the way that philosophers said the world went around the sun, drawn in by their gravity but unable to penetrate to the inner circle. The largest group was also the loudest, a mob of wasp-colored soldiers and men in long-tailed coats engaged in such energetic argument that it seemed like punches might soon be thrown. The Hamveltai were in the most precarious situation of all the attendees, having suffered grievous reverses the previous year-their field army smashed and their greatest fortress forced to surrender, while their ally Desland had actually been occupied by Vordanai forces.\n\nEvidently they haven't figured out what to do about it. Raesinia decided to let them stew fora moment. She walked instead toward the Murnskai delegation. This was mostly soldiers, spotless white uniforms dripping with gold braid and trimmed with fur at the collars. Their tight circle opened at her approach, revealing a tall, broad man at its center. His uniform was the most impressive of all, both sides of his chest studded with medals alongside a cloth-of-gold sash, and he wore along cloak of flowing white fur." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Prince Cesha Dzurk, Sothe's briefing had supplied. Second son of the Emperor of Holy Murnsk, and reportedly favored by his father over the diligent, bloodless crown prince. Dzurk was a man of legendary appetites and little tact, but his word supposedly carried great weight with the emperor. At least he's not a religious fanatic like his brother.\n\n\"Your Majesty,\" the prince said, offering her a shallow bow. \"It is a pleasure.\" His Vordanai was passable, but his accent was atrocious, so broad that Raesinia wondered if he was doing it deliberately.\n\n\"Prince,\" Raesinia said. \"Welcome to Vordan.\"\n\n\"This is the first time I have come south,\" the prince said, his tone making it clear he was not impressed. \"I hope it is not all for nothing, eh? Where is the famous Vhalnich?\"\n\n\"On his way, I'm told. I'm sure he'll be here soon.\"\n\n\"Tell him I am not accustomed to being kept waiting.\"\n\nRaesinia bristled. \"I remind you that Vhalnich serves at my pleasure. I will represent Vordan in this negotiation.\"\n\nThe prince snorted. \"I am not accustomed to haggling with little girls, either, outside of... certain matters.\" He raised one bushy eyebrow and looked her up and down. \"Or would you like to come upstairs for some private negotiations? I'm told you're of age, though I'm not certain I believe it.\"\n\nRaesinia suppressed a flare of rage. He's baiting me. Boorish or no, no courtier was that rude except on purpose. She took a deep breath, keeping her eyes steady on the prince's smirk, and put her hand on Barely's shoulder when the woman moved forward indignantly. The Murnskai's gaze shifted to her, and then to Joanna, and his smile broadened." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Oh!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "he said. \"And you've brought some of your notorious girl soldiers along, too. Though I daresay you might have found more attractive specimens. Perhaps they're hereto make you look good by contrast?\"\n\nThere was a murmur of laughter from the Murnskai gathered around, the polite titter of sycophants.\n\n\"The corporals are veterans,\" Raesinia said. \"They were both at the fall of Antova, among many other battles.\"\n\n\"I don't doubt it.\" He raised his eyebrows at Joanna. \"This one looks like she could tear down a fortress with her bare hands, then snap a man in half with her thighs. Let me ask you a question, Corporal, that I've never had occasion to ask a woman before.\" He leaned closer, a lewd twist in his voice. \"Does being in battle make you... ah... excited? After I have killed a man, I can hardly bear it. The very next thing I have to do is find some whore and fuck her senseless.\"\n\nJoanna, eyes on the prince, made a gesture at Barely. The smaller woman cleared her throat and said, \"She says that it hasn't so far, but she'd be happy to run the experiment again, if you're volunteering.\" Joanna patted the sword at her side meaningfully.\n\nRaesinia flinched, but the prince only laughed, echoed by his chorus of admirers.\n\n\"I look forward to discussing the subject in more detail,\" he said, \"especially if the consul continues to be tardy. Your Majesty-\" Someone tugged on his sleeve from behind, and he shrugged. \"But I am needed. Another time.\"\n\nRaesinia bit back a retort, turned, and walked away. Joanna and Barely stayed close behind her, and Barely leaned into whisper." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sorry, Your Majesty. I maybe should have kept that to myself.\"\n\n\"No,\" Raesinia muttered, looking back at the laughing prince. \"He was going to keep pushing until we pushed back.\" But why? It had caught her off guard; she'd expected, if not deference, then a certain degree of respect. After all, they're only here because we're winning the war, aren't they?\n\n\"If you want Jo to lay him out, just say the word.\"\n\n\"Tempting, but not yet. I-\"\n\n\"Your Majesty.\" She'd been walking at random, away from the Murnskai delegation, and now a red-uniformed soldier had stepped into her path, bowing low. \"It's an honor.\"\n\n\"Likewise,\" Raesinia said, momentarily at a loss. When he straightened up, she identified him at once. There was no mistaking the hawk-nosed profile of Attua Dorsay, Duke of Brookspring.\n\nDorsay was known to every child in Vordan, at least by reputation. He had been the first soldier of Borel for more than forty years, leading armies up and down the Old Coast in support of Borelgai allies among the city-states there. More recently he had been the engineer of the Vordanai defeat in the War of the Princes, and in command at Vansfeldt, the battle where Raesinia's older brother, Crown Prince Dominic, had been killed. Her father had never truly recovered from that disaster, which had cost him his beloved heir and his territorial ambitions in the course of a single afternoon.\n\nDorsay had been caricatured widely in the Vordanai press, a big-eared, wild-haired madman with a hook nose and a villain's smile. Raesinia hadn't been expecting a cackling goblin, exactly, but it was a little odd to see how normal the man looked. His nose was certainly prominent, and the wings of hair left at the back of his bald head were bushy, but his face was a friendly one, if lined by age and care. He had to be past sixty, but his eyes still gleamed with keen intelligence and a touch of humor." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He was also surprisingly short, topping Raesinia by only four or five inches and barely reaching to Jo's nose." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His eyes went from Raesinia to her bodyguards and back again, and the hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.\n\n\"Your Grace,\" Raesinia said. \"I regret that we haven't had the chance to meet before now.\"\n\n\"We have, as a matter of fact,\" Dorsay said. He spoke good Vordanai, though his aristocratic Borelgai accent gave it a nasal twang. \"I visited your father's court with a military delegation, and we were introduced to the royal children. You were about two years old, but I thought you comported yourself with dignity. Though I don't blame you if you don't remember.\"\n\n\"My mistake, then.\" Raesinia found herself smiling automatically in response. \"Your journey here was smooth?\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"As smooth as it can be, at my age. Every time I think Georg is finally going to leave me alone to my hounds and my brewing, up comes a messenger telling me I must ride at once for the latest crisis.\"\n\nIt took Raesinia a moment to realize that \"Georg\" was Georg Pulwer, the King of Borel. She raised an eyebrow. \"I sincerely hope we can put this crisis to rest here and now.\"\n\n\"My back would certainly be grateful. Accrued interest on too many nights in the saddle. And now that your man Vhalnich's given the Hamvelts a good scare, maybe everyone's ready to talk.\" He looked up at Jo. \"Are you from his women's regiment? Or is that just a rumor?\"\n\n\"The Girls'Own,\" Barely said, voice stiff with belligerent pride. \"We've been with them since Desland.\"\n\nDorsay turned to the shorter woman. \"You were at Jirdos, then? When Vhalnich finally cooked di Pfalen's bacon?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I...\" Barely seemed flustered, having expected some insult. Jo nodded vigorously.\n\n\"I'd very much like to speak to the two of you at some point, then. Have you markup a few maps. Some of the Hamvelts are talking a lot of nonsense about what happened, and I'd like to get it straight.\" He glanced at Raesinia. \"If Her Majesty doesn't mind.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Raesinia said. \"You're welcome to-\"\n\nShe froze. Coming up behind Dorsay was another man, short and plump, his face dominated by huge spectacles that distorted his eyes into pale blurs. Raesinia felt her fists clench of their own accord, and her pulse raced.\n\nOrlanko. The Last Duke, the master of the Concordat, Vordan's former secret police. The force behind the plot to take the throne from her, a plot that would have succeeded without Janus\" intervention. The one responsible for so much spilled blood. Ben's, Faro's, who knows how many others. His allies among the Priests of the Black had saved Raesinia's life when she lay dying, and cursed her with the demon that denied her any hope of a normal existence.\n\n\"Majesty,\" he said, with a tiny bow. His expression was unreadable behind the huge glasses.\n\nRaesinia looked back to Dorsay, her expression set, refusing to let her emotions show.\n\n\"What,\" she said, \"is he doing here?\"\n\nDorsay looked uncomfortable. \"He's been a guest of Georg's at the court in Viadre. Since he's been advising on Vordanai matters, it seemed natural to invite him to be part of our delegation.\"\n\n\"This man, Mallus Kengire\"-Raesinia deliberately emphasized his lack of title, though she found herself unable to think of him as anything other than'Orlanko\"-\"has been stripped of his lands and title for high treason. So far as the Vordanai government is concerned, he is a wanted criminal. He has no right to take part in a sensitive negotiation.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I believe I have every right,\" Orlanko said. \"We are hereto compromise, are we not?\"\n\n\"There will be no compromise on this point while I sit the throne.\" Raesinia looked him square in the eye. \"You may scuttle back to your friends in Viadre if you wish, but you will never return to Vordan.\" She turned back to Dorsay. \"And if I see him again, my participation in this conference is over.\"\n\n\"Your Majesty!\" Orlanko said, with a calm tone that carried a hint of mockery. \"I am an invited guest, and this is a peace negotiation. I realize we have had our differences, but surely...\"\n\nDorsay frowned, and fora moment Raesinia thought he was going to call her bluff. Then there's nothing to do but storm out. She'd spoken in haste and in anger, still unsettled by Prince Dzurk's fantastic bluntness, but she'd meant every word. Any peace that brings Orlanko back is worse than war.\n\n\"Mallus,\" Dorsay said. Raesinia wasn't sure she'd heard anyone address Orlanko by just his given name, not even her father. \"Perhaps you should return to our camp.\"\n\n\"What?\" Orlanko's voice descended to a hiss. \"I have a mandate from His Majesty. You can't-\"\n\n\"I have orders from His Majesty as well,\" Dorsay said, unperturbed. \"Including instructions on what results he expects from this conference, and they don't include breaking it up before it begins. Now, are you going to walkout of hereunder your own power, or shall I have my guards escort you?\"\n\n\"You wouldn't dare,\" Orlanko said. \"You up-jumped half commoner. Lay a hand on me and His Majesty will have you farming mud in Vinbria.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It's been my earnest desire to be away from matters of state these last twenty years, but His Majesty continues to require my expertise.\" Dorsay shrugged. \"Besides, I'm willing to bet that I know Georg considerably better than you do.\" He raised one hand, and a Borelgai officer hurried over.\n\nOrlanko turned on his heel and stalked away before the soldier could reach him. He shot Raesinia a last glare, which she returned as levelly as she could. Only when he'd left the room did she look back at Dorsay.\n\n\"Thank you,\" she said.\n\n\"My apologies,\" Dorsay said. \"I did not mean to discomfit you.\"\n\n\"Does your king really listen to him?\"\n\nDorsay looked around. At least a dozen members of his own delegation were within earshot. He shrugged again. \"Georg listens to everyone,\" he said after a pause. \"He's always very open-minded.\"\n\nThe Borels are not unified, she thought. And Dorsay and Orlanko are on opposite sides. Interesting. The question was, who else was in Orlanko's faction? If we can play them off one another at the conference table-\n\n\"His Lordship,\" the butler boomed, \"Count Janus bet Vhalnich Mieran, First Consul of the Kingdom of Vordan!\"\n\n-\n\nThe room went quiet as the main doors opened. Slowly, without wanting to seem like they were interested, the assembled dignitaries crowded around.\n\nJanus wore anew dress uniform, less ornate than he'd worn as Minister of Justice, though his shoulders carried laurels wrought in gold to match the leafy crowns of the ancient consuls. Six soldiers accompanied him, all wearing silver pins in the shape of a rearing scorpion. Over the winter Janus had reorganized the army and created new badges and insignia; the scorpion marked veterans of the Khandarai campaign. His most loyal soldiers, presumably. Raesinia felt suddenly cold." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The First Consul waved as he entered, raising a hand as all three foreign delegations pressed forward." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Count Dzurk shouldered his way to the front of the Murnskai and stared at Janus in open fascination, while the Hamveltai delegation was a roil of shoving and elbows. Dorsay stayed by Raesinia's side, pushing through the crowd in a more dignified fashion.\n\nRaesinia tried to see Janus the way the others saw him, these foreigners who knew him only by reputation. Tall, passably handsome in a cold way, but with huge gray eyes that seemed to shine with their own inner light. He had away of looking at a crowd so that each man felt his gaze, as though the two of them were face-to-face. And when you were face-to-face with him, the power of his intelligence was like the heat of an oven, threatening to burn anything that strayed too close.\n\nHe looks like a king.\n\n\"My lords,\" Janus said, in a high, ringing voice. \"My sincere apologies for being late. Armies are needy beasts, I'm afraid.\"\n\nThere was a ripple of uncertain laughter. Janus smiled, just fora moment.\n\n\"I have kept you waiting, and so I will get straight to the point,\" he went on. \"Tomorrow morning we will begin what promises to be a great deal of tedious back-and-forth over how we might achieve peace. I thought I might be able to improve the process by laying our cards on the table, as it were. These are Vordan's terms.\"\n\nWhat is he doing? Negotiators in the Ministry of State had spent weeks on their strategy, and this had been no part of it. Should I stop him? But that would show division in front of the other leaders, and if Janus chose that moment to stage a confrontation...\n\nHe knows I won't. His gaze lit on her, just fora moment. Of course he knows. I don't dare interfere, because I don't dare force a showdown, not in public." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But why?\n\n\"There is one power not represented in this room,\" Janus said, \" who are nevertheless at the heart of this war. It is they who began it, inserting their agents into the Vordanai court to take advantage of the illness of the late king. When that failed, it was they who pushed the other powers to make war on Vordan, to interfere in a purely internal political matter.\n\n\"I speak, of course, of the Sworn Church of Elysium. They are the true enemy of Vordan in this struggle. And until Vordan is convinced they are willing to make peace, we dare not put away our swords.\n\n\"So our terms are these. The leaders of the Sworn Church must swear to never again interfere in matters of state in Vordan, or in any other country where they are not welcome. To guarantee their good behavior, a Vordanai army will be permitted to occupy the fortress of Elysium, at the Church's expense. In return, the Vordanai state will agree to a cessation of hostilities, with all captured territories to be returned to status quo ante.\"\n\nRaesinia had thought the room quiet before. Now it was dead silent, as though everyone present was holding their breath. She herself was too stunned to speak. What the hell does he think he's doing?\n\n\"We will accept nothing less,\" Janus went on. \"Indeed, we cannot. The Church will pickup new puppets no matter how many we smash to pieces. If we are ever to have peace, this is the only way. I urge you-\"\n\nThere was a commotion among the Murnskai delegation. Prince Dzurk, medals jingling, pushed clear of his companions and strode across the empty space between him and Janus. The Colonials closed ranks in front of their leader, polite but firm, and the prince was left staring at Janus across a wall of blue uniforms." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You arrogant blykaak,\" Dzurk said, accent thickening further in his rage. \"You dare insult Father Church like this? No southern army will ever come within sight of the walls of Elysium. I invite you to try. You will all find your graves in the empire, and I will piss on them!\"\n\n\"If necessary, I will take you upon that invitation,\" Janus said mildly. \"But I'd prefer not to have to.\"\n\n\"Just because you defeated a pack of fat old bankers, you think you are invincible.\" Dzurk's hand went to his belt, searching for the hilt of a sword that wasn't there. \"The warriors of Holy Murnsk will be pleased to show you the error of your ways.\"\n\nJanus gave a little shrug and one of his brief smiles. Dzurk snorted and spat at the feet of the nearest Colonial, then turned and stalked away.\n\nSuddenly everyone was shouting. In the pandemonium, Raesinia grabbed Duke Dorsay's arm. When he turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised, she mouthed, Later.\n\nDorsay nodded.\n\n-\n\n\"Is the man mad?\" Dorsay said.\n\nThe best suite in the hotel had been reserved for Raesinia, but in Talbonn that didn't amount to much. Everything was ornate, oversized, and covered in gilt, a commoner's idea of luxury. A few obvious repairs couldn't disguise the generally threadbare state of the place, with flaking paint and patchy carpets. Raesinia sat at a wrought-iron table covered in gold leaf, made to look like a blooming flower. She glanced down, not wanting to meet Dorsay's eyes, and picked idly at a bit of gold where it was peeling." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sothe stood by the door. All the other servants had been dismissed for the evening, and to Raesinia's surprise Dorsay had come alone.\n\n\"I don't believe the First Consul is insane, no,\" Raesinia said carefully.\n\n\"Then does what he said represent the position of the Vordanai government? Does he speak for Vordan?\"\n\nThere was along silence. Apiece of the gold leaf tore free.\n\n\"The First Consul is our highest authority on... military matters,\" Raesinia said carefully. \"In that sphere, he has my full confidence.\"\n\nDorsay sat back in his chair, eyes hooded.\n\n\"I thought the prince's performance felt a little forced,\" Raesinia offered.\n\nThe Borelgai shrugged. \"Prince Dzurk maybe a boor, but perhaps not quite as big of a fool as he seems. I think he finds the appearance of boorishness convenient.\"\n\n\"I didn't think he was such a religious type.\"\n\n\"I suspect it is more about pride. With the Murnskai, it is always about pride. They believe the south has looked down on them since the days of the Tyrants.\" Dorsay shook his head. \"They will never agree to these terms. Even if the emperor wanted to, his people would rise against him when they found out. Dzurk may not be a religious man, but the commoners of Murnsk worship with a fervor you southerners find hard to understand.\"\n\n\"And the Borelgai?\" Raesinia said.\n\n\"Borel is... more complex. We've always been a mix of north and south. Old and new, Mithradacii and Vanadii. Church and commerce.\" Dorsay sighed and ran a handover his bald pate. \"I've always been a soldier, Your Majesty. Matters of state make me uncomfortable.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Your king sent you hereto negotiate.\"\n\n\"He did, the rat.\" Dorsay grinned. \"There are factions at court that would be pleased to seethe war end. War is bad for business. Georg is inclined to agree with them-\"\n\nRaesinia opened her mouth, and Dorsay held up a warning finger.\n\n\"-but he is afraid. He will not lay aside the sword while he is afraid.\"\n\n\"Afraid of Vordan?\" Raesinia shifted uneasily. \"What guarantees does he want from us?\"\n\n\"Not of Vordan, exactly.\" Dorsay leaned forward. \"He is afraid of Janus bet Vhalnich.\"\n\nAnother silence.\n\n\"The First Consul saved the throne from traitors,\" Raesinia said. \"Saved me personally. The people love him.\"\n\n\"And his prowess on the battlefield is legendary. All this is what makes him a threat. Having a manlike that at the head of your government is like carrying a naked sword. You cannot expect peace negotiations to begin until you sheathe your weapon.\"\n\n\"It would be a poor reward for his service, to cast him aside.\"\n\n\"A comfortable retirement. Heap titles and honors on him, if you like.\" Dorsay chuckled. \"Send him tome, and I'll preach the virtues of a quiet life keeping bees and breeding dogs.\"\n\n\"What about Orlanko? He seems to have some influence.\"\n\n\"Ah.\" Dorsay's smile faded. \"He has made friends among the faction that wishes to seethe war goon. But Georg has indicated tome that his patience for our ex-duke is growing thin. If talks were to begin in earnest, the court might view his request for continued protection from Vordanai justice... unfavorably.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He's offering me Orlanko. The Last Duke on a platter. A bribe, of sorts. She wondered how much the King of Borel knew and how much he merely suspected.\n\nRaesinia was surprised to find that she was tempted. She didn't think of herself as a vengeful person, but having Orlanko in her power was more attractive than she'd expected. It doesn't have to be simply about vengeance, she rationalized. Think of all the answers he could give us. Right now, in Vordan City, Concordat agents who had committed unspeakable crimes on Orlanko's orders walked free. He could give us justice.\n\nAnd, in exchange, they wanted her to sideline Janus. An honorable retirement.\n\nI owe him a great deal. But... She put that thought aside. More important is whether he would accept it. If I dismiss him and he refuses, then what? Who will the army follow? The people? She was uncomfortably sure she knew the answer to both questions. Besides, if I lay aside my sword, I'll lose whatever leverage I might have.\n\n\"Do you know why Prince Dzurk was so rude to you?\" Dorsay said, breaking into her thoughts.\n\n\"I assumed he was unfamiliar with the etiquette of the south,\" Raesinia said, the diplomatic answer coming almost automatically.\n\n\"Because he's an insufferable prick, you mean?\" Dorsay smiled. \"It's not that. At least, it's not only that, because of course he is an insufferable prick. But he's capable of covering it up when he wants to. No, it was a test. Dzurk-and his father-want to know the same thing everybody else does.\"\n\nRaesinia frowned. I'm getting sick of these leading questions. \"And what would that be?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Where the true power in Vordan lies. Is it with you? Or the much-decorated First Consul? No one is certain, and it has us all on edge. It's hard to negotiate when you don't know who you should be sucking up to. Dzurk apparently thought a few insults might provoke a response that would clarify matters.\"\n\nRaesinia caught his eyes, the question there.\n\n\"I rule Vordan,\" she said. \"With the cooperation of the people, via the Deputies-General.\"\n\n\"Ah, yes. We cannot forget your famous parliament. I hear they've nearly finished picking colors for the drapes in their meeting room.\"\n\nRaesinia winced, though the jibe was not exactly unjust. The Deputies-General was so contentious that almost any action took ages to accomplish. Since Janus had banished the Directory, the deputies had been engaged in a furious debate over the finer intellectual points of the still-theoretical constitution, happy to leave the conduct of the war to their new First Consul.\n\n\"The First Consul serves at the pleasure of the monarch and the Deputies-General,\" Dorsay said. \"Or so we are told. Did he bother to inform you before he made his little speech today?\"\n\nThere was no safe way to answer that. Raesinia smoothed her face into a bland smile. \"Thank you for your visit. It's been very informative.\"\n\nDorsay knew dismissal when he heard it. He pushed his chair back and bowed.\n\n\"Thank you, Your Majesty. I hope we have the opportunity for further discussion.\"\n\nSothe opened the door, then closed it behind the Borelgai. When he was gone, Raesinia leaned back in her chair.\n\n\"Well?\" she said." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I believe he's being truthful, as far as it goes,\" Sothe said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Dorsay is famous for his fair dealing, and the king presumably chose him with that in mind. More important, it makes sense. Janus is brilliant, popular, and ambitious. Dangerous. A young queen and a paralyzed Deputies-General are much to be preferred, from Borel's point of view.\"\n\n\"Set Janus aside,\" Raesinia said, \"in exchange for peace.\"\n\n\"In exchange for the possibility of peace,\" Sothe said. \"His Grace was careful to promise nothing, you'll note.\"\n\n\"Except for Orlanko.\"\n\nSothe shrugged. \"Orlanko is an embarrassment. Returning him to us kills two birds with one stone if it buys them anything at the negotiating table.\"\n\n\"Would you want him as our prisoner?\"\n\n\"I think he should receive justice,\" Sothe said evenly. If she had personal feelings on the matter, she kept them to herself, as always.\n\n\"What about Janus? Any thoughts on what he's doing?\"\n\nSothe frowned. \"I'm not certain. We need more information.\"\n\n\"Then we'd better get it.\"\n\n-\n\nTo Raesinia's intense irritation, it was after midnight before Janus was ready to speak with her. While she waited in her rooms, a steady stream of diplomats and courtiers from all three delegations trooped in and out of his suite. She couldn't simply push her way in without foreigners noting the discord. Assuming the guards would let me. And let's not have that confrontation before we need to...\n\nWhen the knock at the door finally came, Raesinia stood up and smoothed her dress while Sothe answered it. To her surprise, the messenger was not some ranker, but Marcus d'Ivoire, now wearing both the Colonial scorpion and two stars above the silver eagle on his shoulder. He bowed low." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Advance the story as the writer's narrative assistant.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, prophecy\nAuthor: Brandon Sanderson\nTitle: The Hero of Ages\nChapter: 28" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sure,\" Goradel said. \"My family were farmers, Master Terrisman. We lived in Luthadel, but worked the outer fields.\"\n\n\"But, you were a soldier,\" Sazed said. \"Weren't you the one who led Lady Vin into the palace the night she killed the Lord Ruler?\"\n\nGoradel nodded. \"Actually, I led Lord Elend into the palace to rescue Lady Vin, though she turned out to not need much help from us. Anyway, you're right. I was a soldier in the Lord Ruler's palace-my parents disowned me when I joined up. But, I just couldn't face working in the fields my whole life.\"\n\n\"It is arduous work.\"\n\n\"No, it wasn't that,\" Goradel said. \"It wasn't the labor, it was the... hopelessness. I couldn't stand to work all day to grow something I knew would belong to someone else. That's why I left the fields to become a soldier, and that's why seeing these farms gives me hope.\"\n\nGoradel nodded toward a passing field. Some of the skaa looked up, then waved as they saw Elend's banner. \"These people,\" Goradel said, \"they work because they want to.\"\n\n\"They work because if they don't, they will starve.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Goradel said. \"I guess you're right. But they're not working because someone will beat them if they don't-they're working so that their families and their friends won't die. There's a difference in that, to a farmer. You can see it in the way they stand.\"\n\nSazed frowned as they walked, but said nothing further.\n\n\"Anyway, Master Terrisman,\" Goradel said, \"I came to suggest that we make a stop at Luthadel for supplies.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sazed nodded. \"I suspected that we would do so. I, however, will need to leave you fora few days as you go to Luthadel. Lord Breeze can take command. I shall meetup with you on the northern highway.\"\n\nGoradel nodded, moving back to make the arrangements. He didn't ask why Sazed wanted to leave the group, or what his destination was.\n\nSeveral days later, Sazed arrived-alone-at the Pits of Hathsin. There was little to distinguish the area, now that the ash covered everything. Sazed's feet kicked up clumps of it as he moved to the top of a hill. He looked down on the valley that contained the Pits-the place where Kelsier's wife had been murdered. The place where the Survivor had been born.\n\nIt was now the home of the Terris people.\n\nThere were few of them remaining. They had never been a very large population, and the coming of the mists and the difficult trek down to the Central Dominance had claimed many lives. There were, perhaps, forty thousand of them left. And a good many of the men were eunuchs, like Sazed.\n\nSazed moved down the slope toward the valley. It had been a natural place to settle the Terris people. During the days of the Lord Ruler, hundreds of slaves had worked here, watched over by hundreds more soldiers. That had ended when Kelsier had returned to the Pits and destroyed their ability to produce atium. However, the Pits still had the buildings and infrastructure that had supported them during their working days. There was plenty of freshwater, and some shelter. The Terris people had improved on this, building other structures across the valley, making what was once the most terrifying of prison camps into a pastoral group of villages." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Even as Sazed walked down the hillside, he could see people brushing away the ash from the ground, letting the natural plant life poke through to provide grazing for the animals. The scrub that formed the dominant foliage in the Central Dominance was a resilient, hardy group of plants, and they were adapted to ash, and didn't need as much water as farm crops. That meant that the Terris people actually had easier lives than most. They were herdsman, as they had been even during the centuries before the Lord Ruler's Ascension. A hearty, short-legged breed of sheep mulled about on the hills, chewing down the uncovered stalks of scrub.\n\nThe Terris people, Sazed thought, living lives easier than most. What a strange world it has become.\n\nHis approach soon attracted attention. Children ran for their parents, and heads poked from shacks. Sheep began to gather around Sazed as he walked, as if hoping that he had come bearing treats of some sort.\n\nSeveral aged men rushed up the hillside, moving as quickly as their gnarled limbs would allow. They-like Sazed-still wore their steward's robes. And, like Sazed, they kept them cleaned of ash, showing the colorful V-shaped patterns that ran down the fronts. Those patterns had once indicated the noble house that the steward served.\n\n\"Lord Sazed!\" one of the men said eagerly.\n\n\"Your Majesty!\" said another.\n\nYour Majesty. \"Please,\" Sazed said, raising his hands. \"Do not call me that.\"\n\nThe two aged stewards glanced at each other. \"Please, Master Keeper. Let us get you something warm to eat.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yes, the ash was black. No, it should not have been. Most common ash has a dark component, but is just as much gray or white as it is black.\n\nAsh from the ashmounts... it was different. Like the mists themselves, the ash covering our land was not truly a natural thing. Perhaps it was the influence of Ruin's power-as black as Preservation was white. Or, perhaps it was simply the nature of the ashmounts, which were designed and created specifically to blast ash and smoke into the sky.\n\n\"GETUP!\"\n\nEverything was dark.\n\n\"Getup!\"\n\nSpook opened his eyes. Everything seemed so dull, so muted. He could barely see. The world was a dark blur. And... he felt numb. Dead. Why couldn't he feel?\n\n\"Spook, you need to getup!\"\n\nThe voice, at least, was clear. Yet, everything else felt muddy. He couldn't quite manage to think. He blinked, groaning quietly. What was wrong with him? His spectacles and cloth were gone. That should have left him free to see, but everything was so dark.\n\nHe was out of tin.\n\nThere was nothing burning in his stomach. The familiar flame, a comforting candle within, was no longer there. It had been his companion for over a year, always there. He'd feared what he was doing, but had never let it die. And now it was gone.\n\nThat was why everything seemed so dull. Was this really how other people lived? How he used to live? He could barely see-the sharp, rich detail he'd grown accustomed to was gone. The vibrant colors and crisp lines. Instead, everything was bland and vague." }, { "from": "human", "value": "His ears felt clogged." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His nose... he couldn't smell the boards beneath him, couldn't tell the species of wood by scent. He couldn't smell the bodies that had passed. He couldn't feel the thumpings of people moving about in other rooms.\n\nAnd... he was in a room. He shook his head, sitting up, trying to think. Immediately, a pain in his shoulder made him gasp. The wound had not been cared for. He remembered the sword piercing him near the shoulder. That was not a wound one recovered from easily-indeed, his left arm didn't seem to work right, one of the reasons he was having so much trouble rising.\n\n\"You've lost a lot of blood,\" the voice said. \"You'll die soon, even if the flames don't take you. Don't bother to look for the pouch of tin at your belt-they took that.\"\n\n\"Flames?\" Spook croaked, blinking. How did people survive in a world that was this dark?\n\n\"Can't you feel them, Spook? They're near.\"\n\nThere was alight nearby, down a hallway. Spook shook his head, trying to clear his mind. I'm in a house, he thought. A nice one. A nobleman's house.\n\nAnd they're burning it down.\n\nThis, finally, gave him motivation to stand, though he immediately dropped again, his body too weak-his mind too fuzzy-to keep him on his feet.\n\n\"Don't walk,\" the voice said. Where had he heard that voice before? He trusted it. \"Crawl,\" it said.\n\nSpook did as commanded, crawling forward.\n\n\"No, not toward the flames! You have to get out, so you can punish those who did this to you. Think, Spook!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Window,\" Spook croaked, turning to the side, crawling toward one of them.\n\n\"Boarded shut,\" the voice said. \"You saw this before, from the outside. There's only one way to survive. You have to listen tome.\"\n\nSpook nodded dully.\n\n\"Go out the room's other door. Crawl toward the stairs leading to the second floor.\"\n\nSpook did so, forcing himself to keep moving. His arms were so numb they felt like weights tied to his shoulders. He'd been flaring tin so long that normal senses just didn't seem to work for him anymore. He found the stairs, though he was coughing by the time he got there. That would be because of the smoke, apart of his mind told him. It was probably a good thing he was crawling.\n\nHe could feel the heat as he climbed. The flames seemed to be chasing him, claiming the room behind him as he moved up the stairs, still dizzy. He reached the top, then slipped on his own blood, slumping against the side of the wall, groaning.\n\n\"Getup!\" the voice said.\n\nWhere have I heard that voice before? he thought again. Why do I want to do what it says? It was so close. He'd have it, if his mind weren't so muddled. Yet, he obeyed, forcing himself to his hands and knees again.\n\n\"Second room on the left,\" the voice commanded.\n\nSpook crawled without thinking. Flames crept up the stairs, flickering across the walls. His nose was weak, like his other senses, but he suspected that the house had been soaked with oil. It made fora faster, more dramatic burn that way.\n\n\"Stop. This is the room.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Spook turned left, crawling into the room. It was a study, well furnished. The thieves in the city complained that ransacking places like this one wasn't worth the effort. The Citizen forbade ostentation, and so expensive furniture couldn't be sold, even on the black market. Nobody wanted to be caught owning luxuries, lest they end up burning to death in one of the Citizen's executions.\n\n\"Spook!\"\n\nSpook had heard of those executions. He'd never seen one. He'd paid Durn to keep an eye out for the next one. Spook's coin would get him advance warning, as well as a good position to watch the building burn down. Plus, Durn promised he had another tidbit, something Spook would be interested in. Something worth the coin he'd paid.\n\nCount the skulls.\n\n\"Spook!\"\n\nSpook opened his eyes. He'd fallen to the floor and begun to drift off. Flames were already burning the ceiling. The building was dying. There was noway Spook would get out, not in his current condition.\n\n\"Go to the desk,\" the voice commanded.\n\n\"I'm dead,\" Spook whispered.\n\n\"No you're not. Go to the desk.\"\n\nSpook turned his head, looking at the flames. A figure stood in them, a dark silhouette. The walls dripped, bubbled, and hissed, their plaster and paints blackening. Yet, this shadow of a person didn't seem to mind the fire. That figure seemed familiar. Tall. Commanding.\n\n\"You...?\" Spook whispered.\n\n\"Go to the desk!\"\n\nSpook rolled to his knees. He crawled, dragging his useless arm, moving to the side of the desk." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Right drawer.\"\n\nSpook pulled it open, then leaned against the side, slumping. Something was inside.\n\nVials?\n\nHe reached for them eagerly. They were the kinds of vials used by Allomancers to store metal shavings. With trembling fingers, Spook picked one up, then it slipped free of his numb fingers. It shattered. He stared at the liquid that had been inside-an alcohol solution that would keep the metal flakes from corroding, as well as help the Allomancer drink them down.\n\n\"Spook!\" the voice said.\n\nDully, Spook took another vial. He worked off the stopper with his teeth, feeling the fires blaze around him. The far wall was nearly gone. The fires crept toward him.\n\nHe drank the contents of the vial, then searched inside of himself, seeking tin. But there was none. Spook cried out in despair, dropping the vial. It had contained no tin. How would that have saved him anyway? It would have made him feel the flames, and his wound, more acutely.\n\n\"Spook!\" the voice commanded. \"Burn it!\"\n\n\"There is no tin!\" Spook yelled.\n\n\"Not tin! The man who owned this house was no Tineye!\"\n\nNot tin. Spook blinked. Then-reaching within himself-he found something completely unexpected. Something he'd never thought to ever see, something that shouldn't have existed.\n\nAnew metal reserve. He burned it.\n\nHis body flared with strength. His trembling arms became steady. His weakness seemed to flee, cast aside like darkness before the rising sun. He felt tension and power, and his muscles grew taut with anticipation.\n\n\"Stand!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His head snapped up. He leaped to his feet, and this time the dizziness was gone. His mind still felt numb, but something was clear to him. Only one metal could have changed his body, making it strong enough to work despite his terrible wound and blood loss.\n\nSpook was burning pewter.\n\nThe figure stood in the flames, dark, hard to make out. \"I've given you the blessing of pewter, Spook,\" the voice said. \"Use it to escape this place. You can breakthrough the boards on the far side of that hallway, escape out onto the roof of the building nearby. The soldiers won't be watching for you-they're too busy controlling the fire so it doesn't spread.\"\n\nSpook nodded. The heat didn't bother him anymore. \"Thank you.\"\n\nThe figure stepped forward, becoming more than just a silhouette. Flames played against the man's firm face, and Spook's suspicions were confirmed. There was a reason he'd trusted that voice, a reason why he'd done what it had said.\n\nHe'd do whatever this man commanded.\n\n\"I didn't give you pewter just so you could live, Spook,\" Kelsier said, pointing. \"I gave it to you so you could get revenge. Now, go!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "More than one person reported feeling a sentient hatred in the mists. This is not necessarily related to the mists killing people, however. For most-even those it struck down-the mists seemed merely a weather phenomenon, no more sentient or vengeful than a terrible disease.\n\nFor some few, however, there was more. Those it favored, it swirled around. Those it was hostile to, it pulled away from. Some felt peace within it, others felt hatred. It all came down to Ruin's subtle touch, and how much one responded to his promptings.\n\nTENSOON SATIN HIS CAGE.\n\nThe cage's very existence was an insult. Kandra were not like men-even if he were not imprisoned, TenSoon would not have run or tried to escape. He had come willingly to his fate.\n\nAnd yet, they locked him up. He wasn't certain where they had gotten the cage-it certainly wasn't something kandra normally would need. Still, the Seconds had found it and erected it in one of the main caverns of the Homeland. It was made of iron plates and hard steel bars with a strong wire mesh stretched across all four faces to keep him from reducing his body to base muscles and wriggling through. It was another insult.\n\nTenSoon sat inside, naked on the cold iron floor. Had he accomplished anything other than his own condemnation? Had his words in the Trustwarren been of any value at all?\n\nOutside his cage, the caverns glowed with the light of cultivated mosses, and kandra went about their duties. Many stopped, studying him. This was the purpose of the long delay between his judgment and sentencing. The Second Generationers didn't need weeks to ponder what they were going to do to him. However, TenSoon had forced them to let him speak his mind, and the Seconds wanted to make certain he was properly punished. They put him on display, like some human in the stocks. In all the history of the kandra people, no other had ever been treated in such away. His name would be a byword of shame for centuries." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But we won't last centuries, he thought angrily. That was what my speech was all about.\n\nBut, he hadn't given it very well. How could he explain to the people what he felt? That their traditions were coming to a focus, that their lives-which had been stable for so long-were in drastic need of change?\n\nWhat happened above? Did Vin go to the Well of Ascension? What of Ruin, and Preservation? The gods of the kandra people were at war again, and the only ones who knew of them were pretending that nothing was happening.\n\nOutside his cage, the other kandra lived their lives. Some trained the members of the newer generations-he could see Elevenths moving along, little more than blobs with some glistening bones. The transformation from mistwraith to kandra was a difficult one. Once given a Blessing, the mistwraith would lose most of its instincts as it gained sentience, and would have to relearn how to form muscles and bodies. It was a process that took many, many years.\n\nOther adult kandra went about food preparation. They would stew a mixture of algae and fungi inside stone pits, not unlike the one in which TenSoon would spend eternity. Despite his former hatred of mankind, TenSoon had always found the opportunity to enjoy outside food-particularly aged meat-a very tempting consolation forgoing out on a Contract.\n\nNow, he barely had enough to drink, let alone enough to eat. He sighed, looking through the bars at the vast cavern. The caves of the Homeland were enormous, far too large for the kandra to fill. But, that was what many of his people liked about them. After spending years in a Contract-serving a master's whims, often for decades at a time-a place that offered the option of solitude was quite precious." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Solitude, TenSoon thought. I'll have plenty of that, soon enough. Contemplating an eternity in prison made him a little less annoyed with the people who came to gawk at him. They would be the last of his people he ever saw. He recognized many of them. The Fourths and Fifths came to spit at the ground before him, showing their devotion to the Seconds. The Sixths and the Sevenths-who made up the bulk of the Contract fillers-came to pity him and shake their heads fora friend fallen. The Eighths and Ninths came out of curiosity, amazed that one so aged could have fallen so far.\n\nAnd then he saw a particularly familiar face amidst the watching groups. TenSoon turned aside, ashamed, as MeLaan approached, pain showing in those overly large eyes of hers.\n\n\"TenSoon?\" a whisper soon came.\n\n\"Go away, MeLaan,\" he said quietly, his back to the bars, which only let him lookout at another group of kandra, watching him from the other side.\n\n\"TenSoon...\" she repeated.\n\n\"You need not see me like this, MeLaan. Please go.\"\n\n\"They shouldn't be able to do this to you,\" she said, and he could hear the anger in her voice. \"You're nearly as old as they, and far more wise.\"\n\n\"They are the Second Generation,\" TenSoon said. \"They are chosen by those of the First. They lead us.\"\n\n\"They don't have to lead us.\"\n\n\"MeLaan!\" he said, finally turning toward her. Most of the gawkers stayed back, as if TenSoon's crime were a disease they could catch. MeLaan crouched alone beside his cage, her True Body of spindly wooden bones making her look unnaturally slim." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You could challenge them,\" MeLaan said quietly.\n\n\"What do you think we are?\" TenSoon asked. \"Humans, with their rebellions and upheavals? We are kandra. We are of Preservation. We follow order.\"\n\n\"You still bow before them?\" MeLaan hissed, pressing her thin face up against the bars. \"After what you said-with what is happening above?\"\n\nTenSoon paused. \"Above?\"\n\n\"You were right, TenSoon,\" she said. \"Ash cloaks the land in a mantle of black. The mists come during the day, killing both crops and people. Men march to war. Ruin has returned.\"\n\nTenSoon closed his eyes. \"They will do something,\" he finally said. \"The First Generation.\"\n\n\"They are old,\" MeLaan said. \"Old, forgetful, impotent.\"\n\nTenSoon opened his eyes. \"You have changed much.\"\n\nShe smiled. \"They should never have given children of anew generation to be raised by a Third. There are many of us, the younger ones, who would fight. The Seconds can't rule forever. What can we do, TenSoon? How can we help you?\"\n\nOh, child, he thought. You don't think that they know about you?\n\nThose of the Second Generation were not fools. They might be lazy, but they were old and crafty-TenSoon understood this, for he knew each of them quite well. They would have kandra listening, waiting to see what was said at his cage. A kandra of the Fourth or Fifth Generation who had the Blessing of Awareness could stand a distance away, and still hear every word being spoken at his cage.\n\nTenSoon was kandra. He had returned to receive his punishment because that was right. It was more than honor, more than Contract. It was who he was." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And yet, if the things MeLaan had said were true...\n\nRuin has returned.\n\n\"How can you just sit here?\" MeLaan said. \"You're stronger than they are, TenSoon.\"\n\nTenSoon shook his head. \"I broke Contract, MeLaan.\"\n\n\"Fora higher good.\"\n\nAt least I convinced her.\n\n\"Is it true, TenSoon?\" she asked very quietly.\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"OreSeur. He had the Blessing of Potency. You must have inherited it, when you killed him. Yet, they didn't find it on your body when they took you. So, what did you do with it? Can I fetch it for you? Bring it, so that you can fight?\"\n\n\"I will not fight my own people, MeLaan,\" TenSoon said. \"I am kandra.\"\n\n\"Someone must lead us!\" she hissed.\n\nThat statement, at least, was true. But, it wasn't TenSoon's right. Nor, really, was it the right of the Second Generation-or even the First Generation. It was the right of the one who had created them. That one was dead. But, another had taken his place.\n\nMeLaan was silent fora time, still kneeling beside his cage. Perhaps she waited for him to offer encouragement, or perhaps to become the leader she sought. He didn't speak.\n\n\"So, you just came to die,\" she finally said.\n\n\"To explain what I've discovered. What I've felt.\"\n\n\"And then what? You come, proclaim dread news, then leave us to solve the problems on our own?\"\n\n\"That's not fair, MeLaan,\" he said. \"I came to be the best kandra I know how.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Then fight!\"\n\nHe shook his head.\n\n\"It's true then,\" she said. \"The others of my generation, they said that you were broken by that last master of yours. The man Zane.\"\n\n\"He did not break me,\" TenSoon said.\n\n\"Oh?\" MeLaan said. \"And why did you return to the Homeland in that... body you were using?\"\n\n\"The dog's bones?\" TenSoon said. \"Those weren't given tome by Zane, but by Vin.\"\n\n\"So she broke you.\"\n\nTenSoon exhaled quietly. How could he explain? On one hand, it seemed ironic to him that MeLaan-who intentionally wore a True Body that was inhuman-would find his use of a dog's body so distasteful. Yet, he could understand. It had taken him quite sometime to appreciate the advantages of those bones.\n\nHe paused.\n\nBut, no. He had not come to bring revolution. He had come to explain, to serve the interests of his people. He would do that by accepting his punishment, as a kandra should.\n\nAnd yet...\n\nThere was a chance. A slim one. He wasn't even certain he wanted to escape, but if there was an opportunity...\"Those bones I wore,\" TenSoon found himself saying. \"You know where they are?\"\n\nMeLaan frowned. \"No. Why would you want them?\"\n\nTenSoon shook his head. \"I don't,\" he said, choosing his words carefully. \"They were disgraceful! I was made to wear them for over a year, forced into the humiliating role of a dog. I would have discarded them, but I had no corpse to ingest and take, so I had to return here wearing that horrid body.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're avoiding the real issue, TenSoon.\"\n\n\"There is no real issue, MeLaan,\" he said, turning away from her. Whether or not his plan worked, he didn't want the Seconds punishing her for associating with him. \"I will not rebel against my people. Please, if you truly wish to help me, just let me be.\"\n\nMeLaan hissed quietly, and he heard her stand. \"You were once the greatest of us.\"\n\nTenSoon sighed as she left. No, MeLaan. I was never great. Up until recently, I was the most orthodox of my generation, a conservative distinguished only by his hatred of humans. Now, I've become the greatest criminal in the history of our people, but I did it mostly by accident.\n\nThat isn't greatness. That's just foolishness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It should be no surprise that Elend became such a powerful Allomancer. It is a well-documented fact-though that documentation wasn't available to most-that Allomancers were much stronger during the early days of the Final Empire.\n\nIn those days, an Allomancer didn't need duralumin to take control of a kandra or koloss. A simple Push or Pull on the emotions was enough. In fact, this ability was one of the main reasons that the kandra devised their Contracts with the humans-for, at that time, not only Mistborn, but Soothers and Rioters could take control of them at the merest of whims.\n\nDEMOUX SURVIVED.\n\nHe was one of the larger group, the fifteen percent who grew sick, but did not die. Vin sat atop the cabin of her narrowboat, arm resting on a wooden ledge, idly fingering her mother's earring-which, as always, she wore in her ear. Koloss brutes trudged along the towpath, dragging the barges and boats down the canal. Many of the barges still carried supplies-tents, foodstuffs, pure water. Several had been emptied, however, their contents carried on the backs of the surviving soldiers, making room for the wounded.\n\nVin turned away from the barges, looking toward the front of the narrowboat. Elend stood at the prow, as usual, staring west. He did not brood. He looked like a king, standing straight-backed, staring determinedly toward his goal. He looked so different now from the man he had once been, with his full beard, his longer hair, his uniforms that had been scrubbed white. They were growing worn. Not ragged... they were still clean and sharp, as white as things could get in the current state of the world. They were just no longer new. They were the uniforms of a man who had been at war for two years straight." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Vin knew him well enough to sense that all was not well. However, she also knew him well enough to sense that he didn't want to talk about it for the moment.\n\nShe stood and stepped down, burning pewter unconsciously to heighten her balance. She slid a book off a bench beside the boat's edge, and settled down quietly. Elend would talk to her eventually-he always did. For the moment, she had something else to engage her.\n\nShe opened the book to the marked page and reread a particular paragraph. The Deepness must be destroyed, the words said. I have seen it, and I have felt it. This name we give it is too weak a word, I think. Yes, it is deep and unfathomable, but it is also terrible. Many do not realize that it is sentient, but I have sensed its mind, such as it is, the few times I have confronted it directly.\n\nShe eyed the page fora moment, sitting back on her bench. Beside her, the canal waters passed, covered with a froth of floating ash.\n\nThe book was Alendi's logbook. It had been written a thousand years before by a man who had thought himself to be the Hero of Ages. Alendi hadn't completed his quest; he had been killed by one of his servants-Rashek-who had then taken the power at the Well of Ascension and become the Lord Ruler.\n\nAlendi's story was frighteningly close to Vin's own. She had also assumed herself to be the Hero of Ages. She had traveled to the Well, and had been betrayed. She, however, hadn't been betrayed by one of her servants-but instead by the force imprisoned within the Well. That force was, she assumed, behind the prophecies about the Hero of Ages in the first place." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Why do I keep coming back to this paragraph? she thought, eyeing it again. Perhaps it was because of what Human had said to her-that the mists hated her. She had felt that hatred herself, and it appeared that Alendi had felt the same thing.\n\nBut, could she even trust the logbook's words? The force she had released, the thing she called Ruin, had proven that it could change things in the world. Small things, yet important ones. Like the text of a book, which was why Elend's officers were now instructed to send all messages via memorized words or letters etched into metal.\n\nRegardless, if there had been any clues to be gained by reading the logbook, Ruin would have removed them long ago. Vin felt as if she'd been led by the nose for the last three years, pulled by invisible strings. She had thought she was having revelations and making great discoveries, but all she'd really been doing was following Ruin's bidding.\n\nYet, Ruin is not omnipotent, Vin thought. If it were, there would have been no fight. It wouldn't have needed to trick me into releasing it.\n\nIt cannot know my thoughts....\n\nEven that knowledge was frustrating. What good were her thoughts? Always before, she'd had Sazed, Elend, or TenSoon to talk with about problems like this. This wasn't a task for Vin; she was no scholar. Yet, Sazed had turned his back on his studies, TenSoon had returned to his people, and Elend was far too busy lately to worry about anything but his army and its politics. That left Vin. And she still found reading and scholarship to be stuffy and boring.\n\nYet, she was also becoming more and more comfortable with the idea of doing what was necessary, even if she found it distasteful. She was no longer just her own person. She belonged to the New Empire. She had been its knife-now it was time to try a different role." }, { "from": "human", "value": "I have to do it, she thought, sitting in the red sunlight." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There is a puzzle here-something to be solved. What was it Kelsier liked to say?\n\nThere's always another secret.\n\nShe remembered Kelsier, standing boldly before a small group of thieves, proclaiming that they would overthrow the Lord Ruler and free the empire. We're thieves, he'd said. And we're extraordinarily good ones. We can rob the unrobbable and fool the unfoolable. We know how to take an incredibly large task and break it down to manageable pieces, then deal with each of those pieces.\n\nThat day, when he'd written up the team's goals and plans on a small board, Vin had been amazed by how possible he had made an impossible task seem. That day, a little bit of her had begun to believe that Kelsier could overthrow the Final Empire.\n\nAll right, Vin thought. I'll begin like Kelsier did, by listing the things that I know for certain.\n\nThere had been a power at the Well of Ascension, so that much about the stories was true. There had also been something alive, imprisoned in or near the Well. It had tricked Vin into using the power to destroy its bonds. Maybe she could have used that power to destroy Ruin instead, but she'd given it up.\n\nShe sat thoughtfully, tapping her finger against the back of the logbook. She could still remember wisps of what it had felt like to hold that power. It had awed her, yet at the same time felt natural and right. In fact, while she held it, everything had felt natural. The workings of the world, the ways of men... it was like the power had been more than simple capability. It had been understanding as well.\n\nThat was a tangent. She needed to focus on what she knew before she could philosophize on what she needed to do. The power was real, and Ruin was real. Ruin had retained some ability to change the world while confined-Sazed had confirmed that his texts had been altered to suit Ruin's purpose. Now Ruin was free, and Vin assumed that it was behind the violent mist killings and the falling ash." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Though, she reminded herself, I don't know either of those things for certain. What did she know about Ruin? She had touched it, felt it, in that moment she had released it. It had a need to destroy, yet it was not a force of simple chaos. It didn't act randomly. It planned and thought. And, it didn't seem able to do anything it wanted. Almost as if it followed specific rules...\n\nShe paused. \"Elend?\" she called.\n\nThe emperor turned from his place beside the prow.\n\n\"What is the first rule of Allomancy?\" Vin asked. \"The first thing I taught you?\"\n\n\"Consequence,\" Elend said. \"Every action has consequences. When you Push on something heavy, it will push you back. If you Push on something light, it will flyaway.\"\n\nIt was the first lesson that Kelsier had taught Vin, as well as-she assumed-the first lesson his master had taught him.\n\n\"It's a good rule,\" Elend said, turning back to his contemplation of the horizon. \"It works for all things in life. If you throw something into the air, it will comeback down. If you bring an army into a man's kingdom, he will react...\"\n\nConsequence, she thought, frowning. Like things falling back when thrown into the sky. That's what Ruin's actions feel like tome. Consequences. Perhaps it was a remnant of touching the power, or perhaps just some rationalization her unconscious mind was giving her. Yet, she felt a logic to Ruin. She didn't understand that logic, but she could recognize it.\n\nElend turned back toward her. \"That's why I like Allomancy, actually. Or, at least, the theory of it. The skaa whisper about it, call it mystical, but it's really quite rational. You can tell what an Allomantic Push is going to do as certainly as you can tell what will happen when you drop a rock off the side of the boat. For every Push, there is a Pull. There are no exceptions. It makes simple, logical sense-unlike the ways of men, which are filled with flaws, irregularities, and double meanings. Allomancy is a thing of nature.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A thing of nature.\n\nFor every Push, there is a Pull. A consequence.\n\n\"That's important,\" Vin whispered.\n\n\"What?\"\n\nA consequence.\n\nThe thing she had felt at the Well of Ascension had been a thing of destruction, like Alendi described in his logbook. But, it hadn't been a creature, not like a person. It had been a force-a thinking force, but a force nonetheless. And forces had rules. Allomancy, weather, even the pull of the ground. The world was a place that made sense. A place of logic. Every Push had a Pull. Every force had a consequence.\n\nShe had to discover, then, the laws relating to the thing she was fighting. That would tell her how to beat it.\n\n\"Vin?\" Elend asked, studying her face.\n\nVin looked away. \"It's nothing, Elend. Nothing I can speak of, at least.\"\n\nHe watched her fora moment. He thinks that you're plotting against him, Reen whispered from the back of her mind. Fortunately, the days when she had listened to Reen's words were long past. Indeed, as she watched Elend, she saw him nod slowly, and accept her explanation. He turned back to his own contemplations.\n\nVin rose, walking forward, laying a hand on his arm. He sighed, raising the arm and wrapping it around her shoulders, pulling her close. That arm, once the weak arm of a scholar, was now muscular and firm.\n\n\"What are you thinking about?\" Vin asked.\n\n\"You know,\" Elend said.\n\n\"It was necessary, Elend. The soldiers had to get exposed to the mists eventually.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Elend said. \"But there's something more, Vin. I fear I'm becoming like him.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Who?\"\n\n\"The Lord Ruler.\"\n\nVin snorted quietly, pulling closer to him.\n\n\"This is something he would have done,\" Elend said. \"Sacrificing his own men fora tactical advantage.\"\n\n\"You explained this to Ham,\" Vin said. \"We can't afford to waste time.\"\n\n\"It's still ruthless,\" Elend said. \"The problem isn't that those men died, it's that I was so willing to make it happen. I feel... brutal, Vin. How far will I go to see my goals achieved? I'm marching on another man's kingdom to take it from him.\"\n\n\"For the greater good.\"\n\n\"That has been the excuse of tyrants throughout all time. I know it. Yet, I press on. This is why I didn't want to be emperor. This is why I let Penrod take my throne from me back during the siege. I didn't want to be the kind of leader who had to do things like this. I want to protect, not besiege and kill! But, is there any other way? Everything I do seems like it must be done. Like exposing my own men in the mists. Like marching on Fadrex City. We have to get to that storehouse-it's the only lead we have that could even possibly give us some clue as to what we're supposed to do! It all makes such sense. Ruthless, brutal sense.\"\n\nRuthlessness is the very most practical of emotions, Reen's voice whispered. She ignored it. \"You've been listening to Cett too much.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" Elend said. \"Yet, his is a logic I find difficult to ignore. I grew up as an idealist, Vin-we both know that's true. Cett provides a kind of balance. The things he says are much like what Tindwyl used to say.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He paused, shaking his head. \"Just a short time ago, I was talking with Cett about Allomantic Snapping. Do you know what the noble houses did to ensure that they found the Allomancers among their children?\"\n\n\"They had them beaten,\" Vin whispered. A person's Allomantic powers were always latent until something traumatic brought them out. A person had to be brought to the brink of death and survive-only then would their powers be awakened. It was called Snapping.\n\nElend nodded. \"It was one of the great, dirty secrets of so-called noble life. Families often lost children to the beatings-those beatings had to be brutal for them to evoke Allomantic abilities. Each house was different, but they generally specified an age before adolescence. When a boy or girl hit that age, they were taken and beaten near to death.\"\n\nVin shivered slightly.\n\n\"I vividly remember mine,\" Elend said. \"Father didn't beat me himself, but he did watch. The saddest thing about the beatings was that most of them were pointless. Only a handful of children, even noble children, became Allomancers. I didn't. I was beaten for nothing.\"\n\n\"You stopped those beatings, Elend,\" Vin said softly. He had drafted a bill soon after becoming king. A person could choose to undergo a supervised beating when they came of age, but Elend had stopped it from happening to children.\n\n\"And I was wrong,\" Elend said softly.\n\nVin looked up.\n\n\"Allomancers are our most powerful resource, Vin,\" Elend said, looking out over the marching soldiers. \"Cett lost his kingdom, nearly his life, because he couldn't marshal enough Allomancers to protect him. And I made it illegal to search out Allomancers in my population.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Elend, you stopped the beating of children.\"\n\n\"And if those beatings could save lives?\" Elend asked. \"Like exposing my soldiers could save lives? What about Kelsier? He only gained his powers as a Mistborn after he was trapped in the Pits of Hathsin. What would have happened if he'd been beaten properly as a child? He would always have been Mistborn. He could have saved his wife.\"\n\n\"And then wouldn't have had the courage or motivation to overthrow the Final Empire.\"\n\n\"And is what we have any better?\" Elend asked. \"The longer I've held this throne, Vin, the more I've come to realize that some of the things the Lord Ruler did weren't evil, but simply effective. Right or wrong, he maintained order in his kingdom.\"\n\nVin looked up, catching his eyes, forcing him to look down at her. \"I don't like this hardness in you, Elend.\"\n\nHe looked out over the blackened canal waters. \"It doesn't control me, Vin. I don't agree with most of the things the Lord Ruler did. I'm just coming to understand him-and that understanding worries me.\" She saw questions in his eyes, but also strengths. He looked down and met her eyes. \"I can hold this throne only because I know that atone point, I was willing to give it up in the name of what was right. If I ever lose that, Vin, you need to tell me. All right?\"\n\nVin nodded.\n\nElend looked back at the horizon again. What is it he hopes to see? Vin thought.\n\n\"There has to be a balance, Vin,\" he said. \"Somehow, we'll find it. The balance between whom we wish to be and whom we need to be.\" He sighed. \"But for now,\" he said, nodding to the side, \"we simply have to be satisfied with who we are.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Vin glanced to the side as a small courier skiff from one of the other narrowboats pulled up alongside theirs. A man in simple brown robes stood upon it. He wore large spectacles, as if attempting to obscure the intricate Ministry tattoos around his eyes, and he was smiling happily.\n\nVin smiled herself. Once, she had thought that a happy obligator was always a bad sign. That was before she'd known Noorden. Even during the days of the Lord Ruler, the contented scholar had probably lived most of his life in his own little world. He provided a strange proof that even in the confines of what had once been-in her opinion-the most evil organization in the empire, one could find good men.\n\n\"Your Excellency,\" Noorden said, stepping off of the skiff and bowing. A couple of assistant scribes joined him on the deck, lugging books and ledgers.\n\n\"Noorden,\" Elend said, joining the man on the foredeck. Vin followed. \"You have done the counts I asked?\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Excellency,\" Noorden said as an aide opened up a ledger on a pile of boxes. \"I must say, this was a difficult task, what with the army moving about and the like.\"\n\n\"I'm certain you were thorough as always, Noorden,\" Elend said. He glanced at the ledger, which seemed to make sense to him, though all Vin saw was a bunch of random numbers.\n\n\"What's it say?\" she asked.\n\n\"It lists the number of sick and dead,\" Elend said. \"Of our thirty-eight thousand, nearly six thousand were taken by the sickness. We lost about five hundred and fifty.\"\n\n\"Including one of my own scribes,\" Noorden said, shaking his head." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Vin frowned. Not at the death, at something else, something itching at her mind...\n\n\"Fewer dead than expected,\" Elend said, pulling thoughtfully at his beard.\n\n\"Yes, Your Excellency,\" Noorden said. \"I guess these soldier types are more rugged than the average skaa population. The sickness, whatever it is, didn't strike them as hard.\"\n\n\"How do you know?\" Vin asked, looking up. \"How do you know how many should have died?\"\n\n\"Previous experience, my lady,\" Noorden said in his chatty way. \"We've been tracking these deaths with some interest. Since the disease is new, we're trying to determine exactly what causes it. Perhaps that will lead us to away to treat it. I've had my scribes reading what we can, trying to find clues of other diseases like this. It seems a little like the shakewelts, though that's usually brought on by-\"\n\n\"Noorden,\" Vin said, frowning. \"You have figures then? Exact numbers?\"\n\n\"That's what His Excellency asked for, my lady.\"\n\n\"How many fell sick to the disease?\" Vin asked. \"Exactly?\"\n\n\"Well, let me see...\" Noorden said, shooing his scribe away and checking the ledger. \"Five thousand two hundred and forty-three.\"\n\n\"What percentage of the soldiers is that?\" Vin asked.\n\nNoorden paused, then waved over ascribe and did some calculations. \"About thirteen and a half percent, my lady,\" he finally said, adjusting his spectacles.\n\nVin frowned. \"Did you include the men who died in your calculations?\"\n\n\"Actually, no,\" Noorden said.\n\n\"And which total did you use?\" Vin asked. \"The total number of men in the army, or the total number who hadn't been in the mists before?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The first.\"\n\n\"Do you have a count for the second number?\" Vin asked.\n\n\"Yes, my lady,\" Noorden said. \"The emperor wanted an accurate count of which soldiers would be affected.\"\n\n\"Use that number instead,\" Vin said, glancing at Elend. He seemed interested.\n\n\"What is this about, Vin?\" he asked as Noorden and his men worked.\n\n\"I'm... not sure,\" Vin said.\n\n\"Numbers are important for generalizations,\" Elend said. \"But I don't see how...\" He trailed off as Noorden looked up from his calculations, then cocked his head, saying something softly to himself.\n\n\"What?\" Vin asked.\n\n\"I'm sorry, my lady,\" Noorden said. \"I was just a bit surprised. The calculation came out to be exact-precisely sixteen percent of the soldiers fell sick. To the man.\"\n\n\"A coincidence, Noorden,\" Elend said. \"It isn't that remarkable for calculations to come out exact.\"\n\nAsh blew across the deck. \"No,\" Noorden said, \"no, you are right, Your Excellency. A simple coincidence.\"\n\n\"Check your ledgers,\" Vin said. \"Find percentages based on other groups of people who have caught this disease.\"\n\n\"Vin,\" Elend said, \"I'm no statistician, but I have worked with numbers in my research. Sometimes, natural phenomena produce seemingly odd results, but the chaos of statistics actually results in normalization. It might appear strange that our numbers broke down to an exact percentage, but that's just the way that statistics work.\"\n\n\"Sixteen,\" Noorden said. He looked up. \"Another exact percentage.\"\n\nElend frowned, stepping over to the ledger." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"This third one here isn't exact,\" Noorden said, \"but that's only because the base number isn't a multiple of twenty-five. A fraction of a person can't really become sick, after all. Yet, the sickness in this population here is within a single person of being exactly sixteen percent.\"\n\nElend knelt down, heedless of the ash that had dusted the deck since it had last been swept. Vin looked over his shoulder, scanning the numbers.\n\n\"It doesn't matter how old the average member of the population is,\" Noorden said, scribbling. \"Nor does it matter where they live. Each one shows the exact same percentage of people falling sick.\"\n\n\"How could we have not noticed this before?\" Elend asked.\n\n\"Well, we did, after a fashion,\" Noorden said. \"We knew that about four in twenty-five caught the sickness. However, I hadn't realized how exact the numbers were. This is indeed odd, Your Excellency. I know of no other disease that works this way. Look, here's an entry where a hundred scouts were sent into the mists, and precisely sixteen of them fell sick!\"\n\nElend looked troubled.\n\n\"What?\" Vin asked.\n\n\"This is wrong, Vin,\" Elend said. \"Very wrong.\"\n\n\"It's like the chaos of normal random statistics has broken down,\" Noorden said. \"A population should never react this precisely-there should be a curve of probability, with smaller populations reflecting the expected percentages least accurately.\"\n\n\"At the very least,\" Elend said, \"the sickness should affect the elderly indifferent ratios from the healthy.\"\n\n\"Ina way, it does,\" Noorden said as one of his assistants handed him a paper with further calculations. \"The deaths respond that way, as we would expect. But, the total number who fall sick is always sixteen percent! We've been paying so much attention to how many died, we didn't notice how unnatural the percentages of those stricken were.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Elend stood. \"Check on this, Noorden,\" he said, gesturing toward the ledger. \"Do interviews, make certain the data hasn't been changed by Ruin, and find out if this trend holds. We can't jump to conclusions with only four or five examples. It could all just be a large coincidence.\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Excellency,\" Noorden said, looking a bit shaken. \"But... what if it's not a coincidence? What does it mean?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Elend said.\n\nIt means consequence, Vin thought. It means that there are laws, even if we don't understand them.\n\nSixteen. Why sixteen percent?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The beads of metal found at the Well-beads that made men into Mistborn-were the reason why Allomancers used to be more powerful. Those first Mistborn were as Elend Venture became-possessing a primal power, which was then passed down through the lines of the nobility, weakening a bit with each generation.\n\nThe Lord Ruler was one of these ancient Allomancers, his power pure and unadulterated by time and breeding. That is part of why he was so mighty compared to other Mistborn-though, admittedly, his ability to mix Feruchemy and Allomancy was what produced many of his most spectacular abilities. Still, it is interesting tome that one of his'divine\" powers-his essential Allomantic strength-was something everyone of the original nine Allomancers possessed.\n\nSAZED SATIN ONE OF THE NICER BUILDINGS at the Pits of Hathsin-a former guardhouse-holding a mug of hot tea. The Terris elders satin chairs before him, a small stove providing warmth. On the next day, Sazed would have to leave to catch up with Goradel and Breeze, who would be well on their way to Urteau by now.\n\nThe sunlight was dimming. The mists had already come, and they hung just outside the glass window. Sazed could just barely make out depressions in the dark ground outside-cracks, in the earth. There were dozens of the cracks; the Terris people had built fences to mark them. Only a few years ago, before Kelsier had destroyed the atium crystals, men had been forced to crawl down into those cracks, seeking small geodes which had beads of atium at their centers.\n\nEach slave who hadn't been able to find at least one geode a week had been executed. There were likely still hundreds, perhaps thousands, of corpses pinned beneath the ground, lost in deep caverns, dead without anyone knowing or caring." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What a terrible place this was, Sazed thought, turning away from the window as a young Terriswoman closed the shutters. Before him on the table were several ledgers which showed the resources, expenditures, and needs of the Terris people.\n\n\"I believe I suggested keeping these figures in metal,\" Sazed said.\n\n\"Yes, Master Keeper,\" said one of the elderly stewards. \"We copy the important figures into a sheet of metal each evening, then check them weekly against the ledgers to make certain nothing has changed.\"\n\n\"That is well,\" Sazed said, picking through one of the ledgers, sitting in his lap. \"And sanitation? Have you addressed those issues since my last visit?\"\n\n\"Yes, Master Keeper,\" said another man. \"We have prepared many more latrines, as you commanded-though we do not need them.\"\n\n\"There maybe refugees,\" Sazed said. \"I wish for you to be able to care fora larger population, should it become necessary. But, please. These are only suggestions, not commands. I claim no authority over you.\"\n\nThe group of stewards shared glances. Sazed had been busy during his time with them, which had kept him from dwelling on his melancholy thoughts. He'd made sure they had enough supplies, that they kept a good communication with Penrod in Luthadel, and that they had a system in place for settling disputes among themselves.\n\n\"Master Keeper,\" one of the elders finally said. \"How long will you be staying?\"\n\n\"I must leave in the morning, I fear,\" Sazed said. \"I came simply to check on your needs. This is a difficult time to live, and you could be easily forgotten by those in Luthadel, I think.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We are well, Master Keeper,\" said one of the others. He was the youngest of the elders, and he was only a few years younger than Sazed. Most of the men here were far older-and far wiser-than he. That they should look to him seemed wrong.\n\n\"Will you not reconsider your place with us, Master Keeper?\" asked another. \"We want not for food or for land. Yet, what we do lack is a leader.\"\n\n\"The Terris people were oppressed long enough, I think,\" Sazed said. \"You have no need for another tyrant king.\"\n\n\"Not a tyrant,\" one said. \"One of our own.\"\n\n\"The Lord Ruler was one of our own,\" Sazed said quietly,\n\nThe group of men looked down. That the Lord Ruler had proven to be Terris was a shame to all of their people.\n\n\"We need someone to guide us,\" one of the men said. \"Even during the days of the Lord Ruler, he was not our leader. We looked to the Keeper Synod.\"\n\nThe Keeper Synod-the clandestine leaders of Sazed's sect. They had led the Terris people for centuries, secretly working to make certain that Feruchemy continued, despite the Lord Ruler's attempts to breed the power out of the people.\n\n\"Master Keeper,\" said Master Vedlew, senior of the elders.\n\n\"Yes, Master Vedlew?\"\n\n\"You do not wear your copperminds.\"\n\nSazed looked down. He hadn't realized it was noticeable that, beneath his robes, he wasn't wearing the metal bracers. \"They are in my pack.\"\n\n\"It seems odd, tome,\" Vedlew said, \"that you should work so hard during the Lord Ruler's time, always wearing your metalminds in secret, despite the danger. Yet, now that you are free to do as you wish, you carry them in your pack.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sazed shook his head. \"I cannot be the man you wish me to be. Not right now.\"\n\n\"You area Keeper.\"\n\n\"I was the lowest of them,\" Sazed said. \"A rebel and a reject. They cast me from their presence. The last time I left Tathingdwen, I did so in disgrace. The common people cursed me in the quiet of their homes.\"\n\n\"Now they bless you, Master Sazed,\" said one of the men.\n\n\"I do not deserve those blessings.\"\n\n\"Deserve them or not, you are all we have left.\"\n\n\"Then we area sorrier people than we may appear.\"\n\nThe room fell silent.\n\n\"There was another reason why I came here, Master Vedlew,\" Sazed said, looking up. \"Tell me, have any of your people died recently in... odd circumstances?\"\n\n\"Of what do you speak?\" the aged Terrisman asked.\n\n\"Mist deaths,\" Sazed said. \"Men who are killed by simply going out into the mists during the day.\"\n\n\"That is a tale of the skaa,\" one of the other men scoffed. \"The mists are not dangerous.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" Sazed said carefully. \"Do you send your people out to work in them during the daylight hours, when the mists have not yet retreated for the day?\"\n\n\"Of course we do,\" said the younger Terrisman. \"Why, it would be foolish to let those hours of work pass.\"\n\nSazed found it difficult not to let his curiosity work on that fact. Terrismen weren't killed by the daymists.\n\nWhat was the connection?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "He tried to summon the mental energy to think on the issue, but he felt traitorously apathetic." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He just wanted to hide somewhere where nobody would expect anything of him. Where he wouldn't have to solve the problems of the world, or even deal with his own religious crisis.\n\nHe almost did just that. And yet, a little part of him-a spark from before-refused to simply give up. He would at least continue his research, and would do what Elend and Vin asked of him. It wasn't all he could do, and it wouldn't satisfy the Terrismen who sat here, looking at him with needful expressions.\n\nBut, for the moment, it was all Sazed could offer. To stay at the Pits would be to surrender, he knew. He needed to keep moving, keep working.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" he said to the men, setting aside the ledger. \"But this is how it must be.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "During the early days of Kelsier's original plan, I remember how much he confused us all with his mysterious'Eleventh Metal.\" He claimed that there were legends of a mystical metal that would let one slay the Lord Ruler-and that Kelsier himself had located that metal through intense research.\n\nNobody really knew what Kelsier did in the years between his escape from the Pits of Hathsin and his return to Luthadel. When pressed, he simply said that he had been in'the West.\" Somehow in his wanderings he discovered stories that no Keeper had ever heard. Most of the crew didn't know what to make of the legends he spoke of. This might have been the first seed that made even his oldest friends begin to question his leadership.\n\nIN THE EASTERN LANDS, near the wastelands of grit and sand, a young boy fell to the ground inside a skaa shack. It was many years before the Collapse, and the Lord Ruler still lived. Not that the boy knew of such things. He was a dirty, ragged thing-like most other skaa children in the Final Empire. Too young to be put to work in the mines, he spent his days ducking away from his mother's care and running about with the packs of children who foraged in the dry, dusty streets.\n\nSpook hadn't been that boy for some ten years. Ina way, he was aware that he was delusional-that the fever of his wounds was causing him to come in and out of consciousness, dreams of the past filling his mind. He let them run. Staying focused required too much energy.\n\nAnd so, he remembered what it felt like as he hit the ground. A large man-all men were large compared with Spook-stood over him, skin dirtied with the dust and grime of a miner. The man spat on the dirty floor beside Spook, then turned to the other skaa in the room. There were many. One was crying, the tears leaving lines of cleanliness on her cheeks, washing away the dust." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"All right,\" the large man said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We have him. Now what?\"\n\nThe people glanced at each other. One quietly closed the shack's door, shutting out the red sunlight.\n\n\"There's only one thing to be done,\" another man said. \"We turn him in.\"\n\nSpook looked up. He met the eyes of the crying woman. She looked away. \"Wasing the whereof what?\" Spook demanded.\n\nThe large man spat again, setting a boot against Spook's neck, pushing him back down against the rough wood. \"You shouldn't have let him runaround with those street gangs, Margel. Damn boy is barely coherent now.\"\n\n\"What happens if we give him up?\" asked one of the other men. \"I mean, what if they decide that we're like him? They could have us executed! I've seen it before. You turn someone in, and those... things come searching for everyone that knew him.\"\n\n\"Problems like his run in the family, they do,\" another man said.\n\nThe room grew quiet. They all knew about Spook's family.\n\n\"They'll kill us,\" said the frightened man. \"You know they will! I've seen them, seen them with those spikes in their eyes. Spirits of death, they are.\"\n\n\"We can't just let him runabout,\" another man said. \"They'll discover what he is.\"\n\n\"There's only one thing to be done,\" the large man said, pressing down on Spook's neck even harder.\n\nThe room's occupants-the ones Spook could see-nodded solemnly. They couldn't turn him in. They couldn't let him go. But, nobody would miss a skaa urchin. No Inquisitor or obligator would ask twice about a dead child found in the streets. Skaa died all the time." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was the way of the Final Empire.\n\n\"Father,\" Spook whispered.\n\nThe heel came down harder. \"You're not my son! My son went into the mists and never came out. You must be a mistwraith.\"\n\nSpook tried to object, but his chest was pressed down too tight. He couldn't breathe, let alone speak. The room started to grow black. And yet, his ears-supernaturally sensitive, enhanced by powers he barely understood-heard something.\n\nCoins.\n\nThe pressure on his neck grew weaker. He was able to gasp for breath, his vision returning. And there, spilled on the ground before him, was a scattering of beautiful copper coins. Skaa weren't paid for their work-the miners were given goods instead, barely enough to survive on. Yet, Spook had seen coins occasionally passing between noble hands. He'd once known a boy who had found a coin, lost in the dusty grime of the street.\n\nA larger boy had killed him for it. Then, a nobleman had killed that boy when he'd tried to spend it. It seemed to Spook that no skaa would want coins-they were far too valuable, and far too dangerous. And yet, every eye in the room stared at that spilled bag of wealth.\n\n\"The bag in exchange for the boy,\" a voice said. Bodies parted to where a man sat at a table at the back of the room. He wasn't looking at Spook. He just sat, quietly spooning gruel into his mouth. His face was gnarled and twisted, like leather that had been sitting in the sun for far too long. \"Well?\" the gnarled man said between bites.\n\n\"Where did you get money like this?\" Spook's father demanded." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"None of your business.\"\n\n\"We can't let the boy go,\" one of the skaa said. \"He'll betray us! Once they catch him, he'll tell them that we knew!\"\n\n\"They won't catch him,\" the gnarled man said, taking another bite of food. \"He'll be with me, in Luthadel. Besides, if you don't let him go, I'll just go ahead and tell the obligators about you all.\" He paused, lowering his spoon, glancing at the crowd with a crusty look. \"Unless you're going to kill me too.\"\n\nSpook's father finally took his heel off Spook's neck as he stepped toward the gnarled stranger. However, Spook's mother grabbed her husband's arm. \"Don't, Jedal,\" she said softly-but not too softly for Spook's enhanced ears. \"He'll kill you.\"\n\n\"He's a traitor,\" Spook's father spat. \"Servant in the Lord Ruler's army.\"\n\n\"He brought us coins. Surely taking his money is better than simply killing the boy.\"\n\nSpook's father looked down at the woman. \"You did this! You sent for your brother. You knew he'd want to take the boy!\"\n\nSpook's mother turned away.\n\nThe gnarled man finally set down his spoon, then stood. People backed away from his chair in apprehension. He walked with a pronounced limp as he crossed the room.\n\n\"Come on, boy,\" he said, not looking at Spook as he opened the door.\n\nSpook rose slowly, tentatively. He glanced at his mother and father as he backed away. Jedal stooped down, finally gathering up the coins. Margel met Spook's eyes, then turned away. This is all I can give you, her posture seemed to say." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Spook turned, rubbing his neck, and rushed into the hot red sunlight after the stranger. The older man hobbled along, walking with a cane. He glanced at Spook as he walked.\n\n\"You have a name, boy?\"\n\nSpook opened his mouth, then stopped. His old name didn't seem like it would do anymore. \"Lestibournes,\" he finally said.\n\nThe old man didn't bat an eye. Later, Kelsier would decide that Lestibournes was too difficult to say, and name him'Spook\" instead. Spook never did figure out whether or not Clubs knew how to speak Eastern street slang. Even if he did, Spook doubted that he'd understand the reference.\n\nLestibournes. Lefting I'm born.\n\nStreet slang for'I've been abandoned.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Work to move the story forward.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, prophecy\nAuthor: Brandon Sanderson\nTitle: The Hero of Ages\nChapter: 58" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "PART FOUR BEAUTIFUL DESTROYER" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A man with a given power-such as an Allomantic ability-who then gained a Hemalurgic spike granting that same power would be nearly twice as strong as a natural unenhanced Allomancer.\n\nAn Inquisitor who was a Seeker before his transformation would therefore have an enhanced ability to use bronze. This simple fact explains how many Inquisitors were able to pierce copperclouds.\n\nVIN LANDED, ABORTING HER ATTACK, but still tense, eyes narrow with suspicion. Reen was backlit by the fitful lantern-light, looking much as she remembered. The four years had changed him, of course-he was taller, broader of build-but he had the same hard face, unrelieved by humor. His posture was familiar to her; during her childhood, he had often stood as he did now, arms folded in disapproval.\n\nIt all returned to her. Things she thought she'd banished into the dark, quarantined parts of her mind: blows from Reen's hand, harsh criticism from his tongue, furtive moves from city to city.\n\nAnd yet, tempering these memories was an insight. She was no longer the young girl who had borne her beatings in confused silence. Looking back, she could seethe fear Reen had shown in the things he had done. He'd been terrified that his half-breed Allomancer of a sister would be discovered and slaughtered by the Steel Inquisitors. He'd beaten her when she made herself standout. He'd yelled at her when she was too competent. He'd moved her when he'd feared that the Canton of Inquisition had caught their trail.\n\nReen had died protecting her. He had taught her paranoia and distrust out of a twisted sense of duty, for he'd believed that was the only way she would survive on the streets of the Final Empire. And, she'd stayed with him, enduring the treatment. Inside-not even buried all that deeply-she'd known something very important. Reen had loved her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She looked up and met the eyes of the man standing in the cavern. Then, she slowly shook her head. No, she thought. It looks like him, but those eyes are not his.\n\n\"Who are you?\" she demanded.\n\n\"I'm your brother,\" the creature said, frowning. \"It's only been a few years, Vin. You've grown brash-I thought I'd taught you better than that.\"\n\nHe certainly has the mannerisms down, Vin thought, walking forward warily. How did he learn them? Nobody thought that Reen was of any importance during his life. They wouldn't have known to study him.\n\n\"Where did you get his bones?\" Vin asked, circling the creature. The cavern floor was rough and lined with burgeoning shelves. Darkness extended in all directions. \"And how did you get the face so perfect? I thought kandra had to digest a body to make a good copy.\"\n\nHe had to be a kandra, after all. How else would someone manage such a perfect imitation? The creature turned, regarding her with a confused expression. \"What is this nonsense? Vin, I realize that we're not exactly the type to reunite with a fond embrace, but I did at least expect you to recognize me.\"\n\nVin ignored the complaints. Reen, then Breeze, had taught her too well. She'd know Reen if she saw him. \"I need information,\" she said. \"About one of your kind. He is called TenSoon, and he returned to your Homeland a year ago. He said he was going to be put on trial. Do you know what happened to him? I would like to contact him, if possible.\"\n\n\"Vin,\" the false Reen said firmly, \"I am not a kandra.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We'll see about that, Vin thought, reaching outwith zinc and hitting the impostor with a duralumin-fueled blast of emotional Allomancy.\n\nHe didn't even stumble. Such an attack would have put a kandra under Vin's control, just as it did with koloss. Vin wavered. It was growing difficult to seethe impostor in the waning lantern-light, even with tin enhancing her eyes.\n\nThe failed emotional Allomancy meant that he wasn't a kandra. But he wasn't Reen either. There seemed only one logical course to follow.\n\nShe attacked.\n\nWhoever the impostor was, he knew her well enough to anticipate this move. Though he exclaimed in mock surprise, he immediately jumped back, getting out of her reach. He moved on light feet-light enough that Vin was reasonably certain he was burning pewter. In fact, she could still feel the Allomantic pulses coming from him, though for some reason it was hard for her to pin down exactly which metals he was burning.\n\nEither way, the Allomancy was an additional confirmation of her suspicions. Reen had not been an Allomancer. True, he could have Snapped during their time apart, but she didn't think he had any noble blood to impart him an Allomantic heritage. Vin had gotten her powers from her father, the parent she and Reen had not shared.\n\nShe attacked experimentally, testing this impostor's skill. He stayed out of her reach, watching carefully as she alternately prowled and attacked. She tried to corner him against the shelves, but he was too careful to be caught.\n\n\"This is pointless,\" the impostor said, jumping away from her again.\n\nNo coins, Vin thought. He doesn't use coins to jump." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You'd have to expose yourself too much to actually hit me, Vin,\" the impostor said, \"and I'm obviously good enough to stay out of your reach. Can't we stop this and get onto more important matters? Aren't you even a bit curious as to what I've been doing these last four years?\"\n\nVin backed into a crouch, like a cat preparing to pounce, and smiled.\n\n\"What?\" the impostor asked.\n\nAt that moment, her stalling paid off. Behind them, the overturned lantern finally flickered out, plunging the cavern into darkness. But Vin, with her ability to pierce copperclouds, could still sense her enemy. She'd dropped her coin pouch back when she'd first sensed someone in the room-she bore no metal to give him warning of her approach.\n\nShe launched herself forward, intending to grab her enemy around the neck and pull him into a pin. The Allomantic pulses didn't let her see him, but they did tell her exactly where he was. That would be enough of an edge.\n\nShe was wrong. He dodged her just as easily as he had before.\n\nVin fell still. Tin, she thought. He can hear me coming.\n\nSo, she kicked over a storage shelf, then attacked again as the crash of the falling shelf echoed loudly in the chamber, spilling cans across the floor.\n\nThe impostor evaded her again. Vin froze. Something was very wrong. Somehow, he always sensed her. The cavern fell silent. Neither sound nor light bounced off its walls. Vin crouched, the fingers of one hand resting lightly on the cool stone before her. She could feel the thumping, his Allomantic power washing across her in waves. She focused on it, trying to differentiate the metals that had produced it. Yet, the pulses felt opaque. Muddled." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There's something familiar about them, she realized. When I first sensed this impostor, I thought... I thought he was the mist spirit.\n\nThere was a reason the pulses felt familiar. Without the light to distract her, making her connect the figure with Reen, she could see what she'd been missing.\n\nHer heart began to beat quickly, and for the first time this evening-imprisonment included-she began to feel afraid. The pulses felt just like the ones she'd felt a year ago. The pulses that had led her to the Well of Ascension.\n\n\"Why have you come here?\" she whispered to the blackness.\n\nLaughter. It rang in the empty cavern, loud, free. The thumpings approached, though no footsteps marked the thing's movement. The pulses suddenly grew enormous and overpowering. They washed across Vin, unbounded by the cavern's echoes, an unreal sound that passed through things both living and dead. She stepped backward in the darkness, and nearly tripped over the shelves she'd knocked down.\n\nI should have known you wouldn't be fooled, a kindly voice said in her head. The thing's voice. She'd heard it only once before, a year ago, when she'd released it from its imprisonment in the Well of Ascension.\n\n\"What do you want?\" she whispered.\n\nYou know what I want. You've always known.\n\nAnd she did. She had sensed it in the moment when she had touched the thing. Ruin, she called it. It had very simple desires. To seethe world come to its end.\n\n\"I will stop you,\" she said. Yet, it was hard to not feel foolish speaking the words to a force she did not understand, a thing that existed beyond men and beyond worlds." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It laughed again, though this time the sound was only inside her head. She could still feel Ruin pulsing-though not from anyone specific place. It surrounded her. She forced herself to stand up straight.\n\nAh, Vin, Ruin said, its voice almost fatherly intone. You act as if I were your enemy.\n\n\"You are my enemy. You seek to end the things I love.\"\n\nAnd is an ending always bad? it asked. Must not all things, even worlds, someday end?\n\n\"There is no need to hasten that end,\" Vin said. \"No reason to force it.\"\n\nAll things are subject to their own nature, Vin, Ruin said, seeming to flow around her. She could feel its touch upon her-wet and delicate, like mist. You cannot blame me for being what I am. Without me, nothing would end. Nothing could end. And therefore, nothing could grow. I am life. Would you fight life itself?\n\nVin fell silent.\n\nDo not mourn because the day of this world's end has arrived, Ruin said. That end was ordained the very day of the world's conception. There is a beauty in death-the beauty of finality, the beauty of completion.\n\nFor nothing is truly complete until the day it is finally destroyed.\n\n\"Enough,\" Vin snapped, feeling alone and smothered in the chill darkness. \"Stop taunting me. Why have you come here?\"\n\nCome here? it asked. Why do you ask that?\n\n\"What is your purpose in appearing now?\" Vin said. \"Have you simply come to gloat over my imprisonment?\"\n\nI have not'just appeared,\" Vin, Ruin said. Why, I have never left. I've always been with you. Apart of you." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Nonsense,\" Vin said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You only just revealed yourself.\"\n\nI revealed myself to your eyes, yes, Ruin said. But, I see that you do not understand. I've always been with you, even when you could not see me.\n\nIt paused, and there was silence, both outside and inside of her head.\n\nWhen you're alone, no one can betray you, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. Reen's voice. The voice she heard sometimes, almost real, like a conscience. She'd taken it for granted that the voice was just part of her psyche-a leftover from Reen's teachings. An instinct.\n\nAnyone will betray you, Vin, the voice said, repeating a bit of advice it commonly gave. As it spoke, it slowly slid from Reen's voice into that of Ruin. Anyone.\n\nI've always been with you. You've heard me in your mind since your first years of life." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ruin's escape deserves some explanation. This is a thing that even I had a problem understanding.\n\nRuin could not have used the power at the Well of Ascension. It was of Preservation, Ruin's fundamental opposite. Indeed, a direct confrontation of these two forces would have caused the destruction of both.\n\nRuin's prison, however, was fabricated of that power. Therefore, it was attuned to the power of Preservation-the very power of the Well. When that power was released and dispersed, rather than utilized, it acted as a key. The subsequent'unlocking\" is what finally freed Ruin.\n\n\"ALL RIGHT,\" BREEZE SAID, \"so does somebody want to speculate on how our team's spy ended up becoming a pseudo-religious vigilante freedom fighter?\"\n\nSazed shook his head. They satin their cavern lair beneath the Canton of Inquisition. Breeze, declaring that he was tired of travel rations, had ordered several of the soldiers to break open some of the cavern's supplies to prepare a more suitable meal. Sazed might have complained, but the truth was that the cavern was so well stocked that even a determinedly eating Breeze wouldn't be able to make a dentin it.\n\nThey had waited all day for Spook to return to the lair. Tensions in the city were high, and most of their contacts had gone to ground, weathering the Citizen's paranoia regarding a rebellion. Soldiers walked the streets, and a sizable contingent had setup camp just outside the Ministry building. Sazed was worried that the Citizen had associated Breeze and Sazed with Spook's appearance at the executions. It appeared that their days of moving about freely in the city were at an end.\n\n\"Why hasn't he comeback?\" Allrianne asked. She and Breeze sat at a fine table, pilfered from an empty nobleman's mansion. They had, of course, changed back to their fine clothing-a suit on Breeze, a peach dress on Allrianne. They always changed as soon as possible, as if eager to reaffirm to themselves who they really were." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sazed did not dine with them; he didn't have much of an appetite. Captain Goradel leaned against a bookcase a short distance away, determined to keep a close eye on his charges. Though the good-natured man wore his usual smile, Sazed could tell from the orders he'd given to his soldiers that he was worried about the possibility of an assault. He made very certain that Breeze, Allrianne, and Sazed stayed within the protective confines of the cavern. Better to be trapped than dead.\n\n\"I'm sure the boy is fine, my dear,\" Breeze said, finally answering Allrianne's question. \"It's likely he hasn't comeback because he fears implicating us in what he did today.\"\n\n\"Either that,\" Sazed said, \"or he can't get past the soldiers watching outside.\"\n\n\"He snuck into a burning building while we were watching, my dear man,\" Breeze said, \"I doubt he'd have trouble with a bunch of toughs, especially now that it's dark out.\"\n\nAllrianne shook her head. \"It would have been better if he'd managed to sneak out of that building as well, rather than jumping off the roof in front of everyone.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" Breeze said. \"But, part of being a vigilante rebel is letting your enemies know what you are about. The psychological effect produced by leaping from a burning building carrying a child is quite sound. And, to do that right in front of the tyrant who tried to execute said child? I wasn't aware that dear little Spook had such a flair for drama!\"\n\n\"He's not so little anymore, I think,\" Sazed said quietly. \"We have a habit of ignoring Spook too much.\"\n\n\"Habits come from reinforcement, my dear man,\" Breeze said, wagging a fork at Sazed. \"We paid little attention to the lad because he rarely had an important role to play. It isn't his fault-he was simply young.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Vin was young as well,\" Sazed noted.\n\n\"Vin, you must admit, is something of a special case.\"\n\nSazed couldn't argue with that.\n\n\"Either way,\" Breeze said, \"when we look at the facts, what happened isn't really all that surprising. Spook has had months to become known to Urteau's underground population, and he is of the Survivor's own crew. It is logical that they would begin to look to him to save them, much as Kelsier saved Luthadel.\"\n\n\"We're forgetting one thing, Lord Breeze,\" Sazed said. \"He jumped from a rooftop ledge two stories up and landed on a cobbled street. Men do not survive falls like that without broken bones.\"\n\nBreeze paused. \"Staged, you think? Perhaps he worked out some kind of landing platform to soften the fall?\"\n\nSazed shook his head. \"I believe it a stretch to assume that Spook could plan, and execute, a staged rescue like that. He would have needed the aid of the underground, which would have ruined the effect. If they knew that his survival was a trick, then we wouldn't have heard the rumors we did about him.\"\n\n\"What, then?\" Breeze asked, shooting a glance at Allrianne. \"You're not truly suggesting that Spook has been Mistborn all this time, are you?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" Sazed said softly.\n\nBreeze shook his head, chuckling. \"I doubt he could have hidden that from us, my dear man. Why, he would have had to go through that entire mess of overthrowing the Lord Ruler, then the fall of Luthadel, without ever revealing that he was anything more than a Tineye! I refuse to accept that.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Or, Sazed thought, you refuse to accept that you wouldn't have detected the truth. Still, Breeze had a point. Sazed had known Spook as a youth. The boy had been awkward and shy, but he hadn't been deceitful. It was truly a stretch to imagine him to have been a Mistborn from the beginning.\n\nYet, Sazed had seen that fall. He had seen the grace of the jump, the distinctive poise and natural dexterity of one burning pewter. Sazed found himself wishing for his copperminds so that he could search for references about people spontaneously manifesting Allomantic powers. Could a man be a Misting early in life, then transform to a full Mistborn later?\n\nIt was a simple thing, related to his duties as an ambassador. Perhaps he could spend just a little time looking through his stored memories, seeking examples....\n\nHe paused. Don't be silly, he thought. You're just looking for excuses. You know that it's impossible for an Allomancer to gain new powers. You won't find any examples because there aren't any.\n\nHe didn't need to look through his metalminds. He had set those aside fora very good reason-he could not be a Keeper, could not share the knowledge he'd collected, until he could sort the truth from the lies.\n\nI've let myself get distracted lately, he thought with determination, rising from his place and leaving the others behind. He walked over to his'room\" in the cache, with the sheets hung there cutting off his view of the others. Sitting on the table was his portfolio. In the corner, next to a shelf full of cans, sat his sack full of metalminds.\n\nNo, Sazed thought. I made a promise to myself. I will keep it. I will not allow myself to become a hypocrite simply because some new religion appears and waves at me. I will be strong." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He sat down at the table, opening his portfolio, taking out the next sheet in the line." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It listed the tenets of the Nelazan people, who had worshipped the god Trell. Sazed had always been partial to this religion because of its focus on learning and study of mathematics and the heavens. He'd saved it for near the end, but had done so more out of worry than anything else. He'd wanted to put off what he'd known would happen.\n\nSure enough, as he read about the religion, he saw the holes in its doctrines. True, the Nelazan had known a great deal about astronomy, but their teachings on the afterlife were sketchy-almost whimsical. Their doctrine was purposefully vague, they'd taught, allowing all men to discover truth for themselves. Reading this, however, left Sazed frustrated. What good was a religion without answers? Why believe in something if the response to half of his questions was'Ask Trell, and he will answer\"?\n\nHe didn't dismiss the religion immediately. He forced himself to put it aside, acknowledging to himself that he wasn't in the right mood for studying. He didn't feel like he was in the mood for much, actually.\n\nWhat if Spook really has become Mistborn? he wondered, mind getting drawn back to the previous conversation. It seemed impossible. Yet, a lot of things they thought they'd known about Allomancy-such as the existence of only ten metals-had turned out to be falsehoods taught by the Lord Ruler to hide some powerful secrets.\n\nPerhaps it was possible for an Allomancer to spontaneously manifest new powers. Or, perhaps there was a more mundane reason Spook had managed such along fall. It could be related to the thing that made Spook's eyes so sensitive. Drugs, perhaps?\n\nEither way, Sazed's worry about what was happening kept him from being able to focus on studying the Nelazan religion as he should. He kept getting the feeling that something very important was occurring. And Spook was at the center of it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Where was that boy?\n\n\"I know why you're so sad,\" Spook said.\n\nBeldre turned, shock showing on her face. She didn't see him at first. He must have been too deep in the misty shadows. It was growing hard for him to tell.\n\nHe stepped forward, moving across the plot of land that had once been a garden outside the Citizen's home. \"I figured it out,\" Spook said. \"At first, I thought that sadness had to do with this garden. It must have been beautiful, once. You would have seen it in its fullness, before your brother ordered all gardens plowed under. You were related to nobility, and probably lived in their society.\"\n\nShe looked surprised at this.\n\n\"Yes, I know,\" Spook said. \"Your brother is an Allomancer. He's a Coinshot; I felt his Pushes. That day at Marketpit.\"\n\nShe remained silent-more beautiful herself than the garden could ever have been-though she did take a step backward as her eyes finally found him in the mists.\n\n\"Eventually,\" Spook continued, \"I decided that I must be wrong. Nobody mourns so much fora simple garden, no matter how lovely. After that, I thought the sadness in your eyes must come from being forbidden to take part in your brother's councils. He always sends you out, into the garden, when he meets with his most important officials. I know what it's like to feel useless and excluded among important people.\"\n\nHe took another step forward. The rough earth lay torn beneath his feet, covered by an inch of ash, the dreary remnants of what had once been fertile ground. To his right stood the lone shrub that Beldre often came to gaze at. He didn't look toward it; he kept his eyes on her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I was wrong,\" he said. \"Being forbidden your brother's conferences would lead to frustration, but not such pain. Not such regret. I know that sorrow now. I killed for the first time this afternoon. I helped overthrow empires, then helped build them anew. And I'd never killed a man. Not until today.\"\n\nHe stopped, then looked into her eyes. \"Yes, I know that sorrow. What I'm trying figure out is why you feel it.\"\n\nShe turned away. \"You shouldn't be here,\" she said. \"There are guards watching-\"\n\n\"No,\" Spook said. \"Not anymore. Quellion sent too many men into the city-he's afraid that he'll suffer a revolution, like happened in Luthadel. Like he himself inspired here when he seized power. He's right to be afraid, but he was wrong to leave his own palace so poorly guarded.\"\n\n\"Kill him,\" Kelsier whispered. \"Quellion is inside; this is the perfect chance. He deserves it, you know he does.\"\n\nNo, Spook thought. Not today. Not in front of her.\n\nBeldre glanced back at him, her eyes growing hard. \"Why have you come? To taunt me?\"\n\n\"To tell you that I understand,\" Spook said.\n\n\"How can you say that?\" she said. \"You don't understand me-you don't know me.\"\n\n\"I think I do,\" Spook said. \"I saw your eyes today, when you watched those people being marched to their deaths. You feel guilty. Guilty for your brother's murders. You sorrow because you feel you should be able to stop him.\" He took a step forward. \"You can't, Beldre. He's been corrupted by his power. He might once have been a good man, but no longer. Do you realize what he's doing? Your brother is murdering people simply to get Allomancers. He captures them, then threatens to kill their families unless they do as he asks. Are those the actions of a good man?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You area simplistic fool,\" Beldre whispered, though she wouldn't meet his eyes.\n\n\"I know,\" Spook said. \"What area few deaths when it comes to securing the stability of a kingdom?\" He paused, then shook his head. \"He's killing children, Beldre. And he's doing it simply to cover up the fact that he's gathering Allomancers.\"\n\nBeldre was silent fora moment. \"Go,\" she finally said.\n\n\"I want you to come with me.\"\n\nShe looked up.\n\n\"I'm going to overthrow your brother,\" Spook said. \"I am a member of the Survivor's own crew. We took down the Lord Ruler-Quellion will hardly provide us with a challenge. You don't have to be here when he falls.\"\n\nBeldre snorted quietly in derision.\n\n\"It's not just about your safety,\" Spook said. \"If you join with us, it will be a strong blow to your brother. Perhaps it will convince him that he is wrong. There could be a more peaceful way of making this happen.\"\n\n\"I'm going to start screaming in three heartbeats,\" Beldre said.\n\n\"I don't fear your guards,\" Spook said.\n\n\"I don't doubt that,\" Beldre said. \"But if they come, you'll have to kill again.\"\n\nSpook wavered. He stayed where he was, however, calling her bluff.\n\nAnd so she started screaming.\n\n\"Go kill him!\" Kelsier said over her screams. \"Now, before it's too late! Those guards you killed-they were just following orders. Quellion, he's the true monster.\"\n\nSpook ground his teeth in frustration, then finally ran, fleeing from Beldre and her screams, leaving Quellion alive." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For the moment.\n\nThe group of rings, clasps, ear loops, bracelets, and other bits of metal gleamed on the table like a treasure hoard of legend. Of course, most of the metals were rather mundane. Iron, steel, tin, copper. No gold or atium.\n\nYet, to a Feruchemist, the metals were worth far more than their economic value. They were batteries, stores that could be filled, then drawn upon. One made of pewter, for instance, could be filled with strength. Filling it would drain the Feruchemist of strength fora time-making him weak enough that simple tasks grew difficult-but the price was worthwhile. For, when necessary, he could draw that strength forth.\n\nMany of these metalminds, spread out on the table in front of Sazed, were empty at the moment. Sazed had last used them during the horrific battle that had ended with the fall-then rescue-of Luthadel over a year before. That battle had left him drained in more ways than one. Ten rings, lined upon the side of the table, had been used to nearly kill him. Marsh had shot them at Sazed like coins, piercing his skin. That, however, had allowed Sazed to draw forth their power and heal himself.\n\nAt the very center of the collection were the most important metalminds of all. Four bracers-meant to clasp onto the upper or lower arms-sat gleaming and polished, made of the purest copper. They were the largest of his metalminds, for they held the most. Copper carried memories. A Feruchemist could take images, thoughts, or sounds that were fresh in his mind, then store them away. While inside, they wouldn't decay or change, as memories could while held in the mind." }, { "from": "human", "value": "When Sazed had been a young man, an older Feruchemist had readout the entire contents of his copperminds." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sazed had stored the knowledge in his own copperminds; they contained the sum total of Keeper knowledge. The Lord Ruler had worked hard to smother people's memories of the past. But the Keepers had gathered them-stories of how the world had been before the ash came and the sun had turned red. The Keepers had memorized the names of places and of kingdoms, had gathered the wisdom of those who were lost.\n\nAnd they had memorized the religions that had been forbidden by the Lord Ruler. These he had worked the most diligently to destroy, and so the Keepers had worked with equal diligence to rescue them-to secure them away inside of metalminds, so someday they could be taught again. Above all, the Keepers had searched for one thing: knowledge of their own religion, the beliefs of the Terris people. Those had been forgotten during the destructive chaos following the Lord Ruler's ascension. However, despite centuries of work, the Keepers had never recovered this most precious knowledge of all.\n\nI wonder what would have happened if we had found it, Sazed thought, picking up a steelmind and quietly polishing it. Probably nothing. He'd given upon his work with the religions in his portfolio for the moment, feeling too discouraged to study.\n\nThere were fifty religions left in his portfolio. Why was he deluding himself, hoping to find anymore truth in them than he had in the previous two hundred and fifty? None of the religions had managed to survive the years. Shouldn't he just let them be? Looking through them seemed to be part of the great fallacy in the work of the Keepers. They'd struggled to remember the beliefs of men, but those beliefs had already proven they lacked the resilience to survive. Why bring them back to life? That seemed as pointless as reviving a sickly animal so it could fall to predators again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He continued to polish." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Breeze watching him. The Soother had come to Sazed's\"room,\" complaining that he couldn't sleep, not with Spook still outside somewhere. Sazed had nodded, but continued polishing. He didn't wish to get into a conversation; he just wanted to be alone.\n\nBreeze, unfortunately, stood and came over. \"Sometimes, I don't understand you, Sazed,\" Breeze said.\n\n\"I do not endeavor to be mysterious, Lord Breeze,\" Sazed said, moving onto polish a small bronze ring.\n\n\"Why take such good care of them?\" Breeze asked. \"You never wear them anymore. In fact, you seem to spurn them.\"\n\n\"I do not spurn the metalminds, Lord Breeze. They are, in away, the only sacred thing I have left in my life.\"\n\n\"But you don't wear them, either.\"\n\nSazed continued polishing. \"No. I do not.\"\n\n\"But why?\" Breeze asked. \"You think that she would have wanted this? She was a Keeper too-do you honestly think she'd want you to give up your metalminds?\"\n\n\"This particular habit of mine is not about Tindwyl.\"\n\n\"Oh?\" Breeze asked, sighing as he seated himself at the table. \"What do you mean? Because honestly, Sazed, you're confusing me. I understand people. It bothers me that I can't understand you.\"\n\n\"After the Lord Ruler's death,\" Sazed said, putting down the ring, \"do you know what I spent my time doing?\"\n\n\"Teaching,\" Breeze said. \"You left to go and restore the lost knowledge to the people of the Final Empire.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And did I ever tell you how that teaching went?\"\n\nBreeze shook his head.\n\n\"Poorly,\" Sazed said, picking up another ring. \"The people didn't really care. They weren't interested in the religions of the past. And why should they have been? Why worship something that people used to believe in?\"\n\n\"People are always interested in the past, Sazed.\"\n\n\"Interested, perhaps,\" Sazed said, \" but interest is not faith. These metalminds, they area thing of museums and old libraries. They are of little use to modern people. During the years of the Lord Ruler's reign, we Keepers pretended that we were doing vital work. We believed that we were doing vital work. And yet, in the end, nothing we did had any real value. Vin didn't need this knowledge to kill the Lord Ruler.\n\n\"I am probably the last of the Keepers. The thoughts in these metalminds will die with me. And, at times, I can't make myself regret that fact. This is not an era for scholars and philosophers. Scholars and philosophers do not help feed starving children.\"\n\n\"And so you don't wear them anymore?\" Breeze said. \"Because you think they're useless?\"\n\n\"More than that,\" Sazed said. \"To wear these metalminds would be to pretend. I would be pretending that I find the things in them to be of use, and I have not yet decided if I door not. To wear them now would seem like a betrayal. I set them aside, for I can do them no justice. I'm just not ready to believe, as we did before, that gathering knowledge and religions is more important than taking action. Perhaps if the Keepers had fought, rather than just memorized, the Lord Ruler would have fallen centuries ago.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But you resisted, Sazed,\" Breeze said. \"You fought.\"\n\n\"I don't represent myself any longer, Lord Breeze,\" Sazed said softly. \"I represent all Keepers, since I am apparently the last. And I, as the last, do not believe in the things I once taught. I cannot with good conscience imply that I am the Keeper I once was.\"\n\nBreeze sighed, shaking his head. \"You don't make sense.\"\n\n\"It makes sense tome.\"\n\n\"No, I think you're just confused. This may not seem to you like a world for scholars, my dear friend, but I think you'll be proven wrong. It seems tome that now-suffering in the darkness that might just be the end of everything-is when we need knowledge the most.\"\n\n\"Why?\" Sazed said. \"So I can teach a dying man a religion that I don't believe? To speak of a god, when I know there is no such being?\"\n\nBreeze leaned forward. \"Do you really believe that? That nothing is watching over us?\"\n\nSazed sat quietly, slowing in his polishing. \"I have yet to decide for certain,\" he finally said. \"At times, I have hoped to find some truth. However, today, that hope seems very distant tome. There is a darkness upon this land, Breeze, and I am not sure that we can fight it. I am not sure that I want to fight it.\"\n\nBreeze looked troubled at that. He opened his mouth, but before he could respond, a rumble rolled through the cavern. The rings and bracers on the table quivered and clinked together as the entire room shook, and there was a clatter as some foodstuffs fell-though not too many, for Captain Goradel's men had done good work in moving most of the stockpile off of shelves and to the ground, in order to deal with the quakes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eventually, the shaking subsided. Breeze sat with a white face, looking up at the ceiling of the cavern. \"I tell you, Sazed,\" he said. \"Every time one of those quakes comes, I wonder at the wisdom of hiding in a cave. Not the safest place during an earthquake, I should think.\"\n\n\"We really have no other option at the moment,\" Sazed said.\n\n\"True, I suppose. Do... does it seem to you like those quakes are coming more frequently?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Sazed said, picking up a few fallen bracelets from the floor. \"Yes, they are.\"\n\n\"Maybe... this region is just more prone to them,\" Breeze said, not sounding convinced. He turned, looking to the side as Captain Goradel rounded a shelf and approached them in a rush.\n\n\"Ah, come to check onus, I see,\" Breeze said. \"We survived the quake quite handily. No need for urgency, my dear captain.\"\n\n\"It's not that,\" Goradel said, puffing slightly. \"It's Lord Spook. He's back.\"\n\nSazed and Breeze shared a look, then rose from their chairs, following Goradel to the front of the cavern. They found Spook walking down the steps. His eyes were uncovered, and Sazed saw anew hardness in the young man's expression.\n\nWe really haven't been paying enough attention to the lad.\n\nThe soldiers backed away. There was blood on Spook's clothing, though he didn't appear wounded. His cloak was burned in places, and the bottom ended in a charred rip.\n\n\"Good,\" Spook said, noticing Breeze and Sazed, \"you're here. Did that quake cause any damage?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Spook?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Breeze asked. \"No, we're all fine here. No damage. But-\"\n\n\"We have little time for chatter, Breeze,\" Spook said, walking past them. \"Emperor Venture wants Urteau, and we're going to deliver it to him. I need you to start spreading rumors in the city. It should be easy-some of the more important elements in the underworld already know the truth.\"\n\n\"What truth?\" Breeze asked, joining Sazed as they followed Spook through the cavern.\n\n\"That Quellion is using Allomancers,\" Spook said, his voice echoing in the cavern. \"I've now confirmed what I suspected before-Quellion recruits Mistings from the people he arrests. He rescues them from his own fires, then holds their families hostage. He relies on the very thing he's preaching against. The entire foundation for his rule, therefore, is a lie. Exposing that lie should cause the entire system to collapse.\"\n\n\"That's capital, we can certainly do that...\" Breeze said, glancing at Sazed again. Spook kept walking, and Sazed followed, trailing Spook as he moved through the cavern. Breeze moved away, probably to fetch Allrianne.\n\nSpook stopped beside the water's edge. He stood therefor a moment, then turned toward Sazed. \"You said that you have been studying the construction that brought the water down here, diverting it from the canals.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Sazed said.\n\n\"Is there away to reverse the process?\" Spook asked. \"Make the water flood the streets again?\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" Sazed said. \"I am not certain that I have the engineering expertise to accomplish the feat, however.\"\n\n\"Is there knowledge in your metalminds that would help you?\" Spook asked." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well... yes.\"\n\n\"Then use them,\" Spook said.\n\nSazed paused, looking uncomfortable.\n\n\"Sazed,\" Spook said. \"We don't have much time-we have to take this city before Quellion decides to attack and destroy us. Breeze is going to spread the rumors, then I am going to find away to expose Quellion as a liar before his people. He's an Allomancer himself.\"\n\n\"Will that be enough?\"\n\n\"It will if we give them someone else to follow,\" Spook said, turning back to look across the waters. \"Someone who can survive fires; someone who can restore water to the city streets. We'll give them miracles and a hero, then expose their leader as a hypocrite and a tyrant. Confronted with that, what would you do?\"\n\nSazed didn't respond immediately. Spook made good points, even about Sazed's metalminds still being useful. Yet Sazed wasn't certain what he thought of the changes in the young man. Spook seemed to have grown far more competent, but...\n\n\"Spook,\" Sazed said, stepping in closer, speaking quietly enough that the soldiers standing behind couldn't hear. \"What is it you aren't sharing with us? How did you survive the leap from that building? Why do you cover your eyes with cloth?\"\n\n\"I...\" Spook faltered, showing a hint of the insecure boy he had once been. For some reason, seeing that made Sazed more comfortable. \"I don't know if I can explain, Saze,\" Spook said, some of his pretension evaporating. \"I'm still trying to figure it out myself. I'll explain eventually. For now, can you just trust me?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The lad had always been a sincere one. Sazed searched those eyes, so eager.\n\nAnd found something important. Spook cared. He cared about this city, about overthrowing the Citizen. He'd saved those people earlier, when Sazed and Breeze had just stood outside, watching.\n\nSpook cared, and Sazed did not. Sazed tried-he grew frustrated with himself because of his depression, which had been worse this evening than it usually was.\n\nHis emotions had been so traitorous lately. He had trouble studying, had trouble leading, had trouble being of any use whatsoever. But, looking into Spook's eager eyes, he was almost able to forget his troubles fora moment.\n\nIf the lad wanted to take the lead, then who was Sazed to argue?\n\nHe glanced toward his room, where the metalminds lay. He had gone so long without them. They tempted him with their knowledge.\n\nAs long as I don't preach the religions they contain, he thought, I'm not a hypocrite. Using this specific knowledge Spook requests will, at least, bring some small meaning to the suffering of those who worked to gather knowledge of engineering.\n\nIt seemed a weak excuse. But, in the face of Spook taking the lead and offering a good reason to use the metalminds, it was enough.\n\n\"Very well,\" Sazed said. \"I shall do as you request.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ruin's prison was not like those that hold men. He wasn't bound by bars. In fact, he could move about freely.\n\nHis prison, rather, was one of impotence. In the terms of forces and gods, this meant balance. If Ruin were to push, the prison would push back, essentially rendering Ruin powerless. And because much of his power was stripped away and hidden, he was unable to affect the world in any but the most subtle of ways.\n\nI should stop here and clarify something. We speak of Ruin being'freed\" from his prison. But that is misleading. Releasing the power at the Well tipped the aforementioned balance back toward Ruin, but he was still too weak to destroy the world in the blink of an eye as he yearned to do. This weakness was caused by part of Ruin's power-his very body-having been taken and hidden from him.\n\nWhich was why Ruin became so obsessed with finding the hidden part of his self.\n\nELEND STOOD IN THE MISTS.\n\nOnce, he had found them disconcerting. They had been the unknown-something mysterious and uninviting, something that belonged to Allomancers and not to ordinary men.\n\nYet, now he was an Allomancer himself. He stared up at the shifting, swirling, spinning banks of vapor. Rivers in the sky. He almost felt as if he should get pulled along in some phantom current. When he'd first displayed Allomantic powers, Vin had explained Kelsier's now-infamous motto. The mists are our friend. They hide us. Protect us. Give us power.\n\nElend continued to stare upward. It had been three days since Vin's capture.\n\nI shouldn't have let her go, he thought again, heart twisting within him. I shouldn't have agreed to such a risky plan." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Vin had always been the one to protect him. What did they do now, when she was in danger? Elend felt so inadequate. Had their situations been reversed, Vin would have found away to get into the city and rescue him. She'd have assassinated Yomen, would have done something.\n\nAnd yet, Elend didn't have her flair of brash determination. He was too much of a planner and was too well acquainted with politics. He couldn't risk himself to save her. He'd already put himself into danger once, and in so doing, had risked the fate of his entire army. He couldn't leave them behind again and put himself in danger, particularly not by going into Fadrex, where Yomen had already proven himself a skilled manipulator.\n\nNo further word had come from Yomen. Elend expected ransom demands, and was terrified of what he might have to do if they came. Could he trade the fate of the world for Vin's life? No. Vin had faced a similar decision at the Well of Ascension, and had chosen the right option. Elend had to follow her example, had to be strong.\n\nYet the thought of her captured came close to paralyzing him with dread. Only the spinning mists seemed to somehow comfort him.\n\nShe'll be all right, he told himself, not for the first time. She's Vin. She'll figure away out of it. She'll be all right....\n\nIt felt odd, to Elend, that after a lifetime of finding the mists unsettling he would now find them so comforting. Vin didn't see them that way, not anymore. Elend could sense it in the way she acted, in the words she spoke. She distrusted the mists. Hated them, even. And Elend couldn't really blame her. They had, after all, changed somehow-bringing destruction and death." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yet, Elend found it hard to distrust the mists. They just felt right. How could they be his enemy? They spun, swirling around him just slightly as he burned metals, like leaves spinning in a playful wind. Ashe stood there, they seemed to soothe away his concerns about Vin's captivity, giving him confidence that she would find away out.\n\nHe sighed, shaking his head. Who was he to trust his own instincts about the mists over Vin's? She had the instincts born of a lifetime of struggling to survive. What did Elend have? Instincts born of a lifetime of partygoing and dancing?\n\nSound came from behind him. People walking. Elend turned, eyeing a pair of servants carrying Cett in his chair.\n\n\"That damn Thug isn't around here, is he?\" Cett asked as the servants set him down.\n\nElend shook his head as Cett waved the servants away. \"No,\" Elend said. \"He's investigating some kind of disturbance in the ranks.\"\n\n\"What happened this time?\" Cett asked.\n\n\"Fistfight,\" Elend said, turning away, looking back toward Fadrex City's watch fires.\n\n\"The men are restless,\" Cett said. \"They're a little like koloss, you know. Leave them too long, and they'll get themselves into trouble.\"\n\nKoloss are like them, actually, Elend thought. We should have seen it earlier. They are men-just men reduced to their most base emotions.\n\nCett sat quietly in the mists fora time, and Elend continued his contemplations.\n\nEventually, Cett spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft. \"She's as good as dead, son. You know that.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No, I don't,\" Elend said.\n\n\"She's not invincible,\" Cett said. \"She's a damn good Allomancer, true. But, take her metals away...\"\n\nShe'll surprise you, Cett.\n\n\"You don't even look worried,\" Cett said.\n\n\"Of course I'm worried,\" Elend said, growing more certain. \"I just... well, I trust her. If anyone can get out, Vin will.\"\n\n\"You're in denial,\" Cett said.\n\n\"Perhaps,\" Elend admitted.\n\n\"Are we going to attack?\" Cett asked. \"Try and get her back?\"\n\n\"This is a siege, Cett,\" Elend said. \"The point is to not attack.\"\n\n\"And our supplies?\" Cett asked. \"Demoux had to put the soldiers on half rations today. We'll be lucky not to starve ourselves before we can get Yomen to surrender.\"\n\n\"We have time yet,\" Elend said.\n\n\"Not much. Not with Luthadel in revolt.\" Cett was silent fora moment, then continued. \"Another of my raiding parties returned today. They had the same things to report.\"\n\nThe same news as all the others. Elend had authorized Cett to send soldiers into nearby villages, to scare the people, perhaps pillage some supplies. Yet, each of the raiding groups had comeback empty-handed, bearing the same story.\n\nThe people in Yomen's kingdom were starving. Villages barely survived. The soldiers hadn't the heart to hurt them any further, and there wasn't anything to take, anyway.\n\nElend turned toward Cett. \"You think me a bad leader, don't you?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Cett looked up, then scratched at his beard. \"Yes,\" he admitted. \"But, well... Elend, you've got one thing going for you as a king that I never did.\"\n\n\"And that is?\"\n\nCett shrugged. \"The people like you. Your soldiers trust you, and they know you have too good a heart for your own good. You have a strange effect on them. Lads like those, they should have been eager to rob villages, even poor ones. Especially considering how on-edge our men are and how many fights there have been in camp. And yet, they didn't. Hell, one of the groups felt so sorry for the villagers that they stayed fora few days and helped water the fields and do repairs to some of the homes!\"\n\nCett sighed, shaking his head. \"A few years ago, I would have laughed at anyone who chose loyalty as a basis for rule. But, well... with the world falling apart as it is, I think even I would rather have someone to trust, as opposed to someone to fear. I guess that's why the soldiers act as they do.\"\n\nElend nodded.\n\n\"I thought a siege was a good idea,\" Cett said. \"But, I don't think it will work anymore, son. The ash is falling too hard now, and we don't have supplies. This whole thing is becoming a damn mess. We need to strike and take what we can from Fadrex, then retreat to Luthadel and try to hold it through the summer while our people grow crops.\"\n\nElend fell silent, then turned, looking to the side as he heard something else in the mists. Shouting and cursing. It was faint-Cett probably couldn't hear it. Elend left, hurrying toward the sound, leaving Cett behind." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Another fight, Elend realized as he approached one of the cooking fires. He heard yells, blustering, and the sounds of men brawling. Cett's right. Goodhearted or not, our men are getting too restless. I need-\n\n\"Stop this immediately!\" anew voice called. Just ahead, through the dark mists, Elend could see figures moving about the firelight. He recognized the voice; General Demoux had arrived on the scene.\n\nElend slowed. Better to let the general deal with the disturbance. There was a big difference between being disciplined by one's military commander and one's emperor. The men would be better off if Demoux were the one to punish them.\n\nThe fighting, however, did not stop.\n\n\"Stop this!\" Demoux yelled again, moving into the conflict. A few of the brawlers listened to him, pulling back. The rest, however, just continued to fight. Demoux pushed himself into the melee, reaching to pull apart two of the combatants.\n\nAnd one of them punched him. Square in the face, throwing Demoux to the ground.\n\nElend cursed, dropping a coin and Pushing himself forward. He fell directly into the middle of the firelight, Pushing outwith a Soothing to dampen the emotions of those fighting.\n\n\"Stop!\" he bellowed.\n\nThey did, freezing, one of the soldiers standing over the fallen General Demoux.\n\n\"What is going on here?\" Elend demanded, furious. The soldiers looked down. \"Well?\" Elend said, turning toward the man who had punched Demoux.\n\n\"I'm sorry, my lord,\" the man grumbled. \"We just...\"\n\n\"Speak, soldier,\" Elend said, pointing, Soothing the man's emotions, leaving him compliant and docile." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Well, my lord,\" the man said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"They're cursed, you know. They're the reason Lady Vin got taken. They were speaking of the Survivor and his blessings, and that just smacked meas hypocrisy, you know? Then, of course their leader would show, demanding that we stop. I just... well, I'm tired of listening to them, is all.\"\n\nElend frowned in anger. Ashe did so, a group of the army's Mistings-Ham at their head-shoved through the crowd. Ham met Elend's eyes, and Elend nodded toward the men who had been fighting. Ham made quick work of them, gathering them up for reprimand. Elend walked over, pulling Demoux to his feet. The grizzled general looked more shocked than anything.\n\n\"I'm sorry, my lord,\" Demoux said quietly. \"I should have seen that coming... I should have been ready for it.\"\n\nElend just shook his head. The two of them watched quietly until Ham joined them, his police pushing the troublemakers away. The rest of the crowd dispersed, returning to their duties. The solitary bonfire burned alone in the night, as if shunned as anew symbol of bad luck.\n\n\"I recognized a number of those men,\" Ham said, joining Elend and Demoux as the troublemakers were led away. \"Mistfallen.\"\n\nMistfallen. The men who, like Demoux, had lain sick from the mists for weeks, instead of a single day. \"This is ridiculous,\" Elend said. \"So they remained sick awhile longer. That doesn't make them cursed!\"\n\n\"You don't understand superstition, my lord,\" Demoux said, shaking his head and rubbing his chin. \"The men look for someone to blame for their ill luck. And... well, it's easy to see why they'd be feeling their luck was bad lately. They've been hard on anyone who was sickened by the mists; they're just most hard on we who were out the longest.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I refuse to accept such idiocy in my army,\" Elend said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ham, did you see one of those men strike Demoux?\"\n\n\"They hit him?\" Ham asked with surprise. \"Their general?\"\n\nElend nodded. \"The big man I was talking to. Brill is his name, I think. You know what will have to be done.\"\n\nHam cursed, looking away.\n\nDemoux looked uncomfortable. \"Maybe we could just... throw him in solitary or something.\"\n\n\"No,\" Elend said through his teeth. \"No, we hold to the law. If he'd struck his captain, maybe we could let him off. But deliberately striking one of my generals? The man will have to be executed. Discipline is falling apart as it is.\"\n\nHam wouldn't look at him. \"The other fight I had to breakup was also between a group of regular soldiers and a group of mistfallen.\"\n\nElend ground his teeth in frustration. Demoux, however, met his eyes. You know what needs to be done, he seemed to say.\n\nBeing a king isn't always about doing what you want, Tindwyl had often said. It's about doing what needs to be done.\n\n\"Demoux,\" Elend said. \"I think the problems in Luthadel are even more serious than our difficulties with discipline. Penrod looked toward us for support. I want you to gather a group of men and take them back along the canal with the messenger, Conrad. Lend aid to Penrod and bring the city back under control.\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord,\" Demoux said. \"How many soldiers should I take?\"\n\nElend met his eyes. \"About three hundred should suffice.\" It was the number who were mistfallen. Demoux nodded, then withdrew into the night.\n\n\"It's the right thing to do, El,\" Ham said softly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"No, it's not,\" Elend said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Just like it's not right to have to execute a soldier because of a single lapse in judgment. But, we need to keep this army together.\"\n\n\"I guess,\" Ham said.\n\nElend turned, glancing up through the mists. Toward Fadrex City. \"Cett's right,\" he finally said. \"We can't just continue to sit out here, not while the world is dying.\"\n\n\"So, what do we do about it?\" Ham asked.\n\nElend wavered. What to do about it indeed? Retreat and leave Vin-and probably the entire empire-to its doom? Attack, causing the deaths of thousands, becoming the conqueror he feared? Was there no other way to take the city?\n\nElend turned and struck out into the night. He found his way to Noorden's tent, Ham following curiously. The former obligator was awake, of course. Noorden kept odd hours. He stood hurriedly as Elend entered his tent, bowing in respect.\n\nThere, on the table, Elend found what he wanted. The thing he had ordered Noorden to work on. Maps. Troop movements.\n\nThe locations of koloss bands.\n\nYomen refuses to be intimidated by my forces, Elend thought. Well, let's see if I can turn the odds back against him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Once'freed,\" Ruin was able to affect the world more directly. The most obvious way he did this was by making the ashmounts emit more ash and the earth begin to break apart. As a matter of fact, I believe that much of Ruin's energy during those last days was dedicated to these tasks.\n\nHe was also able to affect and control far more people than before. Where he had once influenced only a few select individuals, he could now direct entire koloss armies.\n\nAS DAYS PASSED IN THE CAVERN, Vin regretted knocking over the lantern. She tried to salvage it, searching with blind fingers. However, the oil had spilled. She was locked in darkness.\n\nWith a thing that wanted to destroy the world.\n\nSometimes she could sense it, pulsing near her, watching silently-like some fascinated patron at a carnival show. Other times, it vanished. Obviously, walls meant nothing to it. The first time it disappeared, she felt a sense of relief. However, just moments after it vanished, she heard Reen's voice in her mind. I haven't left you, it said. I'm always here.\n\nThe words chilled her, and she thought-just briefly-that it had read her mind. However, she decided that her thoughts would have been easy to guess. Looking back through her life, she realized that Ruin couldn't have spoken each and every time she heard Reen's voice in her head. A lot of the time she heard Reen, it was in response to things she'd been thinking, rather than things she'd been doing. Since Ruin couldn't read minds, those comments couldn't have come from it.\n\nRuin had been speaking to her for so long, it was difficult to separate her own memories from its influence. Yet, she had to trust in the Lord Ruler's promise that Ruin couldn't read her mind. The alternative was to abandon hope. And she wouldn't do that. Each time Ruin spoke to her, it gave her clues about its nature. Those clues might give her the means to defeat it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Defeat it?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Vin thought, leaning back against a rough stonewall of the cavern. It's a force of nature, not a man. How could I even think to defeat something like that?\n\nTime was very difficult to gauge in the perpetual blackness, but she figured from her sleep patterns that it had been around three or four days since her imprisonment.\n\nEveryone called the Lord Ruler a god, Vin reminded herself. I killed him.\n\nRuin had been imprisoned once. That meant that it could be defeated, or at least bottled up. But, what did it mean to imprison an abstraction-a force-like Ruin? It had been able to speak to her while imprisoned. But its words had felt less forceful then. Less... directed. Ruin had acted more as an influence, giving the child Vin impressions that manifested through memories of Reen. Almost like... it had influenced her emotions. Did that mean it used Allomancy? It did indeed pulse with Allomantic power.\n\nZane heard voices, Vin realized. Right before he died, he seemed to be talking to something. She felt a chill as she rested her head back against the wall.\n\nZane had been mad. Perhaps there was no connection between the voices he heard and Ruin. Yet, it seemed like too much of a coincidence. Zane had tried to get her to go with him, to seek out the source of the pulsings-the pulsings that had eventually led her to free Ruin.\n\nSo, Vin thought, Ruin can influence me regardless of distance or containment. However, now that it has been freed, it can manifest directly. That brings up another question. Why hasn't it already destroyed us all? Why play games with armies?\n\nThe answer to that one, at least, seemed obvious. She sensed Ruin's boundless will to destroy. She felt as if she knew its mind. One drive. One impulse. Ruin. So, if it hadn't accomplished its goal yet, that meant it couldn't. That it was hindered. Limited to indirect, gradual means of destruction-like falling ash and the light-stealing mists." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Still, those methods would eventually be effective. Unless Ruin was stopped. But how?\n\nIt was imprisoned before... but what did the imprisoning? She'd once assumed that the Lord Ruler had been the one behind Ruin's imprisonment. But that was wrong. Ruin had already been imprisoned when the Lord Ruler had traveled to the Well of Ascension. The Lord Ruler, then known as Rashek, had gone on the quest with Alendi, in order to slay the presumed Hero of Ages. Rashek's purpose had been to stop Alendi from doing what Vin had eventually done: accidentally releasing Ruin.\n\nIronically, it had been better that a selfish manlike Rashek had taken the power. For, a selfish man kept the power for himself, rather than giving it up and freeing Ruin.\n\nRegardless, Ruin had already been imprisoned before the quest began. That meant that the Deepness-the mists-weren't related to Ruin. Or, at least, the connection wasn't as simple as she'd assumed. Letting Ruin go hadn't been what had prompted the mists to start coming during the day and killing people. In fact, the daymists had started to appear as much as a year before she'd released Ruin, and the mists had started killing people some hours before Vin had found her way to the Well.\n\nSo... what do I know? That Ruin was imprisoned long ago. Imprisoned by something that, perhaps, I can find and use again?\n\nShe stood up. Too much sitting and thinking had made her restless, and she began to walk, feeling her way along the wall.\n\nDuring her first day of imprisonment she'd begun, by touch, to scout the cavern. It was huge, like the other caches, and the process had taken her several days. However, she'd had nothing else to do. Unlike the cache in Urteau, this one had no pool or source of water. And, as Vin investigated it, she discovered that Yomen had removed all of the water barrels from what she assumed was their place on the far right corner. He'd left the canned food and other supplies-the cavern was so enormous that he would have had trouble finding time to remove everything, let alone finding a place to store it somewhere else-however, he'd taken all of the water." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That left Vin with a problem. She felt her way along the wall, locating a shelf where she'd left an open can of stew. Even with pewter and a rock, it had taken her a frightfully longtime to get into the can. Yomen had been clever enough to remove the tools she could have used for opening the food stores, and Vin only had one vial's worth of pewter remaining. She'd opened some ten cans of food on her first day, burning away what pewter she'd had inside of her. That food was already dwindling, however, and she was feeling the need for water-the stew did little to quench her thirst.\n\nShe picked up the can of stew, carefully eating only a mouthful. It was almost gone. The taste reminded her of the hunger that was a growing complement to her thirst. She pushed the feeling away. She'd dealt with hunger for her entire childhood. It was nothing new, even if it had been years since she'd last felt it.\n\nShe moved on, trailing fingers on the side of the wall to keep her bearings. It seemed like such a clever way to kill a Mistborn. Yomen couldn't defeat her, and he trapped her instead. Now, he could simply wait for her to die of dehydration. Simple, effective.\n\nPerhaps Ruin is speaking to Yomen, too, she thought. My imprisonment could all be part of Ruin's plan.\n\nWhatever that is.\n\nWhy had Ruin chosen her? Why not lead someone else to the Well of Ascension? Someone easier to control? She could understand why Ruin had chosen Alendi, all those years before. During Alendi's time, the Well had been sequestered high in the mountains. It would have been a very difficult trek, and Ruin would have needed just the right person to plan, then survive, the expedition." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "However, during Vin's day, the Well had somehow been moved to Luthadel. Or, perhaps Luthadel had been built on top of the Well. Either way, it was there, right beneath the Lord Ruler's palace. Why had Ruin waited so long to free himself? And, of all the people he could have chosen as his pawn, why Vin?\n\nShe shook her head as she arrived at her destination-the only other thing of interest in the vast cavern. A metal plate on the wall. She reached up, brushing her fingers across the slick steel. She'd never been an excellent reader, and the last year-spent in war and travel-hadn't afforded her much time to improve her abilities. And so, it had taken her sometime, feeling her way across each groove carved into the metal, to figure out what was written on the plate.\n\nThere was no map. Or, at least, not like the ones in the previous storage caverns. Instead, there was a simple circle, with a dot at the center. Vin wasn't certain what it was supposed to mean. The text was equally frustrating. Vin ran her fingers across the grooves, though she had long since memorized what the words said.\n\nI have failed you.\n\nI have planned these caverns, knowing a calamity is coming, hoping that I might find some secret that might be of use should I fall to the thing's scheming. Yet, I have nothing. I do not know how to defeat it. The only thing I can think of is to keep it at bay by taking the power at the Well for myself when it returns.\n\nHowever, if you are reading this, I have failed. That means I am dead. As I write this, I find that prospect to be less tragic than I might previously have assumed. I would rather not deal with the thing. It has been my constant companion, the voice that whispers tome always, telling me to destroy, begging me to give it freedom." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "As the writer's helper, keep the story going.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, prophecy\nAuthor: Brandon Sanderson\nTitle: The Hero of Ages\nChapter: 90" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Why couldn't she feel anything? She tried to reach down, to push herself to her knees, but the ground seemed strangely faraway. And, she saw no arms in front of her. She just continued to float.\n\nI'm dead, she thought.\n\nEven as that occurred to her, she woke up a bit more. She could see, though it was as if she looked through a very blurry, distorting pane of glass. She felt... a power buzzing within her. A strength unlike that of limbs-but somehow more versatile.\n\nShe managed to turn, getting a sweeping view of the city. And, halfway through her turn, she came face-to-face with something dark.\n\nShe couldn't tell how faraway it was. It seemed close and distant at the same time. She could view it with detail-far more detail than she could see in the actual world-but she couldn't touch it. She knew, instinctively, what it was.\n\nRuin no longer looked like Reen. Instead, he manifested as a large patch of shifting black smoke. A thing without a body, but with a consciousness greater than that of a simple human.\n\nThat... is what I've become, Vin realized, thoughts becoming clearer.\n\nVin, Ruin spoke. His voice was not that of Reen, but instead something more... guttural. It was a vibration that washed across her, like an Allomantic pulse.\n\nWelcome, Ruin said, to godhood.\n\nVin remained silent, though she quested outwith her power, trying to get a sense of what she could do. Understanding seemed to open to her. It was like before, when she'd taken the power at the Well of Ascension. She immediately knew things. Only this time, the power was so vast-the understanding so great-that it seemed to have shocked her mind. Fortunately, that mind was expanding, and she was growing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Awakening.\n\nShe rose above the city, knowing that the power spinning through her-the core of her existence-was simply a hub. A focus for power that stretched across the entire world. She could be anywhere she wished. Indeed, apart of her was in all places at once. She could seethe world as a whole.\n\nAnd it was dying. She felt its tremors, saw its life ebbing. Already, most of the plant life on the planet was dead. Animals would go quickly-the ones who survived were those who could find away to chew on dead foliage now covered by ash. Humans would not be far behind, though Vin found it interesting to note that a surprising percentage of them had found their way down into one or another of the storage caverns.\n\nNot storage caverns... Vin thought, finally understanding the Lord Ruler's purpose. Shelters. That's why they're so vast. They're like fortresses for people to hide in. To wait, to survive a little longer.\n\nWell, she would fix that. She felt electrified with power. She reached out and plugged the ashmounts. She soothed them, deadened them, smothered their ability to spray ash and lava. Then, she reached into the sky and wiped the smoke and darkness from the atmosphere-like a maid wiping soot from a dirty window. She did all of this in a matter of instants; not more than five minutes would have passed on the world below.\n\nImmediately, the land began to burn.\n\nThe sun was amazingly powerful-she hadn't realized how much the ash and smoke had done to shield the land. She cried out, spinning the world quickly so that the sun moved to its other side. Darkness fell. And, as soon as she did that, tempests began to swoop across the landscape. Weather patterns were disrupted by the motion, and in the sea a sudden wave appeared, enormously large. It rolled toward the coast, threatening to wipe away several cities." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Vin cried out again, reaching to stop the wave. And something blocked her.\n\nShe heard laughter. She turned in the air, looking to where Ruin sat like a shifting, undulating thundercloud.\n\nVin, Vin... he said. Do you realize how like the Lord Ruler you are? When he first took the power, he tried to solve everything. All of man's ills.\n\nShe saw it. She wasn't omniscient-she couldn't seethe entirety of the past. However, she could seethe history of the power she held. She could see when Rashek had taken it, and she could see him, frustrated, trying to pull the planet into a proper orbit. Yet, he pulled it too far, leaving the world cold and freezing. He pushed it back again, but his power was too vast-too terrible-for him to control properly at that time. So, he again left the world too hot. All life would have perished.\n\nHe opened the ashmounts, clogging the atmosphere, turning the sun red. And, in doing so, he saved the planet-but doomed it as well.\n\nYou are so impetuous, Ruin thought. I have held this power fora period of time longer than you can imagine. It takes care and precision to use it correctly.\n\nUnless, of course, you just want to destroy.\n\nHe reached outwith a power Vin could feel. Immediately, without knowing how or why, she blocked him. She threw her power up against his, and he halted, unable to act.\n\nBelow, the tsunami crashed into the coast. There were still people down there. People who had hidden from the koloss, who had survived on fish from the sea when their crops failed. Vin felt their pain, their terror, and she cried out as she reached to protect them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And, again, was stopped.\n\nNow you know the frustration, Ruin said as the tsunami destroyed villages. What was it your Elend said? For every Push, there is a Pull. Throw something up, and it will comeback down. Opposition.\n\nFor Ruin, there is Preservation. Time immemorial! Eternity! And each time I push, YOU push back. Even when dead, you stopped me, for we are forces. I can do nothing! And you can do nothing! Balance! The curse of our existence.\n\nVin suffered as the people below were crushed, washed away, and drowned. Please, she said. Please just let me save them.\n\nWhy? Ruin asked. What is it I told you before? Everything you do serves me. It is out of kindness that I stop you. For, even if you were to reach your handout for them, you would destroy more than you preserve.\n\nThat is always the way it is.\n\nVin hung, listening to the screams. And yet, apart of her mind-now so vast, now capable of many thoughts at once-dissected Ruin's words.\n\nThey were untrue. He said that all things destroyed, yet he complained about balance. He warned that she would only destroy more, but she could not believe that he would stop her out of kindness. He wanted her to destroy.\n\nIt couldn't be both ways. She knew herself as his opposite. She could have saved those people, if he hadn't stopped her. True, she probably didn't have the accuracy to do it yet. That wasn't the power's fault, however, but hers. He had to stop her so that she wouldn't learn, as the Lord Ruler had, and become more capable with the power." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She spun away from him, moving back toward Luthadel." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her awareness was still expanding, but she was confused by something she saw. Bright points of light, dotting the landscape, shining like flares. She drew closer, trying to figure out what they were. Yet, just as it was difficult to look directly at a bright lantern and see what was emitting the light, it was difficult to discern the source of this power.\n\nShe figured it out as she reached Luthadel. A large glow was coming from the broken palace. Most of the light was shaped vaguely like...\n\nSpires. Metal. That's what caused the glowing power. I was right. Metal is power, and it's why Ruin couldn't read things written in steel. Vin turned away from a brightly shining spire. Ruin was there, as always, watching her.\n\nI was surprised when Preservation said he wanted to create you, Ruin said, a bit of curiosity in his voice. Other life is ordered byway of nature. Balanced. But Preservation... he wanted to create something intentionally unbalanced. Something that could choose to preserve at times, but to ruin at others. Something in the form of that which we'd seen before. It was intriguing.\n\nI find it odd that he expended so much of himself to create you. Why would he weaken himself, eventually giving me the strength to destroy the world, simply to place human beings on his world? I know that others call his death to imprison me a sacrifice, but that wasn't the sacrifice. His sacrifice came much earlier.\n\nYes, he still tried to betray me-to imprison me. But, he could not stop me. He could only slow me. Forestall. Delay. Since the day we created you, there has been an imbalance. I was stronger. And he knew it.\n\nVin frowned-or, at least, she felt as if she were frowning, though she no longer had a body. His words..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He says he's stronger, Vin thought. Yet, we are equally matched. Is he lying again?\n\nNo... he didn't lie. Looking back with her ever-expanding mind, she saw that everything Ruin said, he believed. He truly thought that whatever she did helped him. He saw the world through the lenses of destruction.\n\nHe wasn't lying about being more powerful than she. Yet, they were obviously matched at the moment. Which meant...\n\nThere's another piece of Ruin out there, Vin thought. Preservation is weaker because he gave up apiece of himself to create mankind. Not his consciousness-that he used to fuel Ruin's prison-but an actual bit of his power.\n\nWhat she had suspected before, she now knew with certainty. Ruin's power was concentrated, hidden somewhere by Preservation. The atium. Ruin was stronger. Or, he would be, once he recovered the last part of his self. Then, he would be able to destroy completely-they would no longer be balanced.\n\nShe swung about in frustration, a glowing white aura of mist with wispy tendrils expanding across the entire world. There's so much I still don't know, Vin thought.\n\nIt was an odd thing to acknowledge, with her mind broadening to include so much. Yet, her ignorance was no longer that of a person. Her ignorance was related to experience. Ruin had such a huge head start on her. He had created for himself servants who could act without his direction, and so she could not block them.\n\nShe saw his planning manifest in the world. She saw him subtly influencing the Lord Ruler a thousand years ago. Even while Rashek held the power of Preservation, Ruin had whispered in his ear, directing him toward an understanding of Hemalurgy. And, Rashek had obeyed without realizing it, creating minions-armies-for Ruin to take when the time was right." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Vin could see them-the koloss-converging toward Luthadel.\n\nI will give you credit, Vin, Ruin said, hovering nearby. You destroyed my Inquisitors. All but one, at least. They were very difficult to make. I...\n\nShe stopped focusing on him, at least with most of her mind. Something else drew her attention. Something moving into Luthadel, flying on spears of light.\n\nElend." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Looking back, we should have been able to seethe connection between the mists, Allomancy, and the power at the Well of Ascension. Not only could Allomancers' vision pierce the mists, but there was the fact that the mists swirled slightly around the body of a person using any kind of Allomancy.\n\nMore telling, perhaps, was the fact that when a Hemalurgist used his abilities, it drove the mists away. The closer one came to Ruin, the more under his influence, and the longer one bore his spikes, the more the mists were repelled.\n\nELEND STOOD IN THE RUBBLE of Kredik Shaw, mind numb as he contemplated the destruction.\n\nIt seemed... impossible. What force could have leveled such an enormous, majestic building? What could have caused such destruction, breaking apart buildings and flinging rubble several streets away? And, all of the destruction was focused here, at what had once been the center of the Lord Ruler's power.\n\nElend skidded down some rubble, approaching the center of what looked like an impact crater. He turned around in the dark night, looking at the fallen blocks and spires.\n\n\"Lord Ruler...\" he swore quietly, unable to help himself. Had something happened at the Well of Ascension? Had it exploded?\n\nElend turned, looking across his city. It appeared to be empty. Luthadel, largest metropolis in the Final Empire, seat of his government. Empty. Much of it in ruins, a good third of it burned, and Kredik Shaw itself flattened as if it had been pounded by the fist of a god.\n\nElend dropped a coin and shot away, heading along his original path toward the northeastern section of the city. He'd come to Luthadel hoping to find Vin, but had been forced to take a slight detour to the south in order to get around a particularly large swath of lava burning the plains around Mount Tyrian. That sight, along with the sight of Luthadel in ruin, left him very disturbed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Where was Vin?\n\nHe jumped from building to building. He kicked up ash with each leap. Things were happening. The ash was slowly trickling away-in fact, it had mostly stopped falling. That was good, but he remembered well a short time ago when the sun had suddenly blazed with an amazing intensity. Those few moments had burned him so that his face still hurt.\n\nThen, the sun had... dropped. It had fallen below the horizon in less than a second, the ground lurching beneath Elend's feet. Part of him assumed that he was going mad. Yet, he could not deny that it was now nighttime, even if his body-and one of the city clocks he had visited-indicated that it should have been afternoon.\n\nHe landed on a building, then jumped off, Pushing against a broken door handle. He shivered as he moved in the open air of darkness. It was night-the stars blazing uncomfortably above-and there was no mist. Vin had told him that the mists would protect him. What would protect him now that they were gone?\n\nHe made his way to Keep Venture, his palace. He found the building to be a burned-out husk. He landed in the courtyard, staring up at his home-the place he had been raised-trying to make sense of the destruction. Several guards in the brown colors of his livery lay decomposing on the cobblestones. All was still.\n\nWhat in the hell happened here? he thought with frustration. He poked through the building, but found no clues. All had been burned. He left via a broken window on the top floor, then paused at something he saw in the rear courtyard.\n\nHe dropped to the ground. And there, beneath a patio canopy that had kept off much of the ash, he found a corpse in a fine gentlemen's suit lying on the cobbles. Elend rolled it over, noting the sword thrust through its stomach and the posture of a suicide. The corpse's fingers still held the weapon. Penrod, he thought, recognizing the face. Dead, presumably, by his own hand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Something lay scrawled in charcoal on the patio floor." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Elend wiped away the drifted ash, smudging the letters in the process. Fortunately, he could still read them. I'm sorry, it read. Something has taken control of me... of this city. I am lucid only part of the time. Better to kill myself than to cause more destruction. Look toward the Terris Dominance for your people.\n\nElend turned toward the north. Terris? That seemed like a very odd place in which to seek refuge. If the people of the city had fled, then why would they have left the Central Dominance, the place where the mists were the weakest?\n\nHe eyed the scribbles.\n\nRuin... a voice seemed to whisper. Lies...\n\nRuin could change text. Words like Penrod's couldn't be trusted. Elend bid a silent farewell to the corpse, wishing he had the time to bury the old statesman, then dropped a coin to Push himself into the air.\n\nThe people of Luthadel had gone somewhere. If Ruin had found away to kill them, then Elend would have found more corpses. He suspected that if he took the time to search, he could probably find people still hiding in the city. Likely, the disappearance of the mists-then the sudden change from day tonight-had driven them into hiding. Perhaps they had made it to the storage cavern beneath Kredik Shaw. Elend hoped that not many had gone there, considering the damage that had been done to the palace. If there were people there, they would be sealed in.\n\nWest... the wind seemed to whisper. Pits...\n\nRuin usually changes text so that it's very similar to what it said before, Elend thought. So... Penrod probably did write most of those words, trying to tell me whereto go to find my people. Ruin made it sound like they went to the Terris Dominance, but what if Penrod originally wrote that they went to the Terris people?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "It made good sense." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "If he'd fled Luthadel, he would have gone there-it was a place where there was already an established group of refugees, a group with herds, crops, and food.\n\nElend turned west, leaving the city, cloak flapping with each Allomantic bound.\n\nSuddenly, Ruin's frustration made even more sense to Vin. She felt she held the power of all creation. Yet, it took everything she had to get even a few words to Elend.\n\nShe wasn't even certain if he'd heard her or not. She knew him so well, however, that she felt a... connection. Despite Ruin's efforts to block her, she felt as if some part of her had been able to get through to some part of Elend. Perhaps in the same way Ruin was able to communicate with his Inquisitors and followers?\n\nStill, her near-impotence was infuriating.\n\nBalance, Ruin spat. Balance imprisoned me. Preservation's sacrifice-that was to siphon off the part of me that was stronger, to lock it away, to leave me equal with him again. Fora time.\n\nOnly fora time. And what is time to us, Vin?\n\nNothing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It may seem odd to those reading this that atium was part of the body of a god. However, it is necessary to understand that when we said'body\" we generally meant'power.\" As my mind has expanded, I've come to realize that objects and energy are actually composed of the very same things, and can change state from one to another. It makes perfect sense tome that the power of godhood would be manifest within the world in physical form. Ruin and Preservation were not nebulous abstractions. They were integral parts of existence. Ina way, every object that existed in the world was composed of their power.\n\nAtium, then, was an object that was one-sided. Instead of being composed of half Ruin and half Preservation-as, say, a rock would be-atium was completely of Ruin. The Pits of Hathsin were crafted by Preservation as a place to hide the chunk of Ruin's body that he had stolen away during the betrayal and imprisonment. Kelsier didn't truly destroy this place by shattering those crystals, for they would have regrown eventually-in a few hundred years-and continued to deposit atium, as the place was a natural outlet for Ruin's trapped power.\n\nWhen people burned atium, then, they were drawing upon the power of Ruin-which is, perhaps, why atium turned people into such efficient killing machines. They didn't use up this power, however, but simply made use of it. Once a nugget of atium was expended, the power would return to the Pits and begin to coalesce again-just as the power at the Well of Ascension would return there again after it had been used.\n\nTHIS IS, SAZED THOUGHT, without a doubt, the oddest dungeon I have ever been in." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Granted, it was only the second time he had been imprisoned." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Still, he had observed several prisons in his lifetime, and had read of others. Most were like cages. This one, however, consisted only of a hole in the ground with an iron grate covering the top. Sazed scrunched down inside of it, stripped of his metalminds, his legs cramped.\n\nIt was probably built fora kandra, he thought. One without bones, perhaps? What would a kandra without bones be like? A pile of goo? Or, perhaps, a pile of muscles?\n\nEither way, this prison had not been meant to hold a man-particularly not one as tall as Sazed. He could barely move. He reached up, pushing against the grate, but it was secure. A large lock held it in place.\n\nHe wasn't certain how long he had been in the pit. Hours? Perhaps even days. They still hadn't given him anything to eat, though a member of the Third Generation had poured some water on him. Sazed was still wet with it, and he had taken to sucking on the cloth of his robes to assuage his thirst.\n\nThis is silly, he thought, not for the first time. The world is ending, and I'm in prison? He was the final Keeper, the Announcer. He should be up above, recording events.\n\nBecause, truth be told, he was beginning to believe that the world would not end. He had accepted that something, perhaps Preservation itself, was watching over and protecting mankind. He was more and more determined to follow the Terris religion-not because it was perfect, but because he would rather believe and have hope.\n\nThe Hero was real. Sazed believed that. And he had faith in her.\n\nHe had lived with Kelsier and had helped the man. He had chronicled the rise of the Church of the Survivor during the first years of its development. He had even researched the Hero of Ages with Tindwyl and taken it upon himself to announce Vin as the one who fulfilled the prophecies. But it was only recently that he'd started to have faith in her. Perhaps it was his decision to be someone who saw miracles. Perhaps it was the daunting fear of the ending that seemed to loom just ahead. Perhaps it was the tension and anxiety. Regardless, somehow, from the chaos, he drew peace." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She would come. She would preserve the world. However, Sazed needed to be ready to help. And that meant escaping.\n\nHe eyed the metal grate. The lock was of fine steel, the grate itself of iron. He reached up tentatively, touching the bars, draining a bit of his weight and putting it into the iron. Immediately, his body grew lighter. In Feruchemy, iron stored physical weight, and the grate was pure enough to hold a Feruchemical charge. It went against his instincts to use the grate as a metalmind-it wasn't portable, and if he had to flee, he'd leave behind all of the power he'd saved. Yet, what good would it be to simply sit in the pit and wait?\n\nHe reached up with the other hand, touching the steel lock with one finger. Then, he began to fill it as well, draining his body of speed. He instantly began to feel lethargic, as if his every motion-even his breathing-was more difficult. It was like he had to push through some thick substance each time he moved.\n\nHe stayed that way. He had learned to enter a kind of meditative trance when he filled metalminds. Often, he would fill many at once, leaving himself sickly, weak, slow, and dull-minded. When he could, it was better to simply...\n\nDrift.\n\nHe wasn't certain how long the meditation lasted. Occasionally, the guard came to pour water on him. When the sounds came, Sazed would let go and huddle down, pretending to sleep. But, as soon as the guard withdrew, he would reach backup and continue to fill the metalminds.\n\nMore time passed. Then, he heard sounds. Sazed huddled down again, then waited expectantly for the shower of water." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"When I sent you back to save my people,\" a voice growled, \"this wasn't exactly what I had in mind.\"\n\nSazed popped his eyes open, glancing upward, and was surprised to see a canine face looking through the grate. \"TenSoon?\" Sazed asked.\n\nThe kandra grunted and stepped back. Sazed perked up as another kandra appeared. She wore a delicate True Body made of wood, willowy and almost inhuman. And, she held some keys.\n\n\"Quickly, MeLaan,\" TenSoon growled with his dog's voice. He had apparently switched back to the wolfhound, which made sense. Moving as a horse through the sometimes steep and narrow tunnels of the Homeland would have been difficult.\n\nThe female kandra unlocked the grate, then pulled it back. Sazed eagerly climbed free. In the room, he found several other kandra wearing deviant True Bodies. In the corner, the prison guard lay bound and gagged.\n\n\"I was seen entering the Homeland, Terrisman,\" TenSoon said. \"So we have little time. What has happened here? MeLaan told me of your imprisonment-KanPaar announced that the First Generation had ordered you taken. What did you do to antagonize them?\"\n\n\"Not them,\" Sazed said, stretching his cramped legs. \"It was the Second Generation. They have taken the Firsts captive, and plan to rule in their stead.\"\n\nThe girl-MeLaan-gasped. \"They would never!\"\n\n\"They did,\" Sazed said, standing. \"I fear for the safety of the Firsts. KanPaar may have been afraid to kill me because I am human. However, the Firsts...\"\n\n\"But,\" MeLaan said, \"the Seconds are kandra. They wouldn't do something like that! We're not that kind of people.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "TenSoon and Sazed shared a look." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All societies have people who break the rules, child, Sazed thought. Particularly when power is concerned.\n\n\"We have to find the Firsts,\" TenSoon said. \"And recover the Trustwarren.\"\n\n\"We will fight with you, TenSoon,\" one of the other kandra said.\n\n\"We're finally throwing them off!\" another said. \"The Seconds, and their insistence that we serve the humans!\"\n\nSazed frowned at this. What did humans have to do with this conflict? Then, however, he noticed how the others regarded TenSoon. The dog's body, he realized. To them, TenSoon is a revolutionary of the highest order-all because of something Vin ordered him to do.\n\nTenSoon met Sazed eyes again, opening his mouth to speak. Then, however, he paused. \"They're coming,\" he said with a curse, his dog's ears flattening.\n\nSazed spun with concern, noticing shadows on the rock wall of the corridor leading into the prison chamber. The chamber was small, with six or so pit cells in the floor. There were no other entrances.\n\nDespite their brave words, TenSoon's companions immediately shied back, huddling against the wall. They were obviously not accustomed to conflict, particularly with their own kind. TenSoon shared none of their timidity. He charged forward as soon as the group of Fifths entered the room, ramming his shoulder into one's chest, howling and clawing at another.\n\nThere is a kandra who fits in with his people as poorly as I do with my own, Sazed thought, smiling. He stepped backward, moving up onto the top of the prison grate, touching its metals with his bare feet.\n\nThe Fifths had trouble fighting TenSoon-he had trained with Vin, and was apparently quite confident in his dog's body. He kept moving, knocking them over. However, there were five of them, and only one TenSoon. He was forced to retreat." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The wounds in his body close as he orders them, Sazed noticed. That must be why the guards usually carry hammers.\n\nWhich made it fairly obvious how one had to fight kandra. TenSoon backed up beside Sazed. \"I apologize,\" the dog growled. \"This isn't much of a rescue.\"\n\n\"Oh, I don't know,\" Sazed said with a smile, the Fifths surrounding them. \"You needn't give up so quickly, I think.\"\n\nThe Fifths charged, and Sazed tapped iron from the grate beneath his bare feet. Immediately, his body grew several times heavier than normal, and he grabbed a kandra guard by the arms.\n\nThen fell on him.\n\nSazed always said he wasn't a warrior. However, the number of times he'd said that, then been forced to fight anyway, made him think he was losing that excuse. The truth was, he'd been in far more battles over the last few years than he felt he had any right to have survived.\n\nEither way, he knew some rudimentary moves-and, with both Feruchemy and surprise to aid him, that was about all he needed. Tapping weight increased the density of his body and of his bones, keeping him from damaging himself as he collapsed on top of the soldier. Sazed felt a satisfying crack as they hit the grate, Sazed's greatly increased weight crushing the kandra guard's bones. They used stone True Bodies, but even that wasn't enough.\n\nSazed released the metalmind, then began to fill it instead, making his body incredibly light. He touched his foot to the steel lock, and tapped speed. Suddenly, he was faster than any man had aright to be. He stood up even as the other four guards turned toward him in surprise." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He stopped filling his ironmind, regaining normal weight, then reached with a blurring speed to pickup the hammer of the fallen soldier. He didn't have enhanced strength, but he had speed. He slammed the hammer down on a kandra shoulder, growing heavier to add to the momentum of his blow.\n\nThe kandra's bones shattered. Sazed snapped his foot on the lock and tapped all of the remaining speed. He crouched, pivoting, and slammed his hammer into the knees of two kandra who were trying to attack him with their own hammers.\n\nThey cried out, falling, as Sazed's speed ran out.\n\nHe stood up straight. TenSoon was sitting atop the final guard, pinning him to the ground. \"I thought you were a scholar,\" the dog noted, his captive squirming.\n\nSazed tossed aside the hammer. \"I am,\" he said. \"Vin would have fought her way free from this prison days ago. Now, I believe we should deal with these...\" He waved toward the fallen Fifths, who seemed to have quite a bit of trouble moving with their bones broken.\n\nTenSoon nodded. He motioned for some of his friends to help him with the one he was sitting on. They held the captive tentatively, but there were enough of them to keep the prisoner still.\n\n\"What have you done here, FhorKood?\" TenSoon demanded of the captive. Sazed kept an eye on the other Fifths, and was forced to slam a mallet against one of them, breaking more bones as he tried to sneak away.\n\nFhorKood spat. \"Dirty Third,\" he muttered.\n\n\"You are the traitor this time,\" TenSoon said, smiling slightly. \"KanPaar brands me a Contract-breaker, then he overthrows the First Generation? If the world weren't ending, I'd find that far more amusing. Now, speak!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Sazed paused as he noticed something." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The other cells in the floor were occupied. He leaned down, recognizing something about the muscles he saw inside. They were... discolored, and a bit deformed. Like... hanging moss.\n\n\"TenSoon!\" he said, looking up. \"Perhaps the First Generation is still alive. Come here.\"\n\nTenSoon moved over, then looked down at the pit, frowning with canine lips. \"MeLaan! The keys!\"\n\nShe rushed over, unlocking the grate. With some consternation, Sazed was able to determine that there were multiple sets of squirming muscles in the pit, each of a slightly different color.\n\n\"We need bones,\" TenSoon said, standing.\n\nMeLaan nodded, rushing from the room. Sazed shared a look with TenSoon.\n\n\"They must have killed the other kandra in these cells,\" TenSoon said softly. \"Traitors to our kind, imprisoned endlessly. It was to have been my fate. Either way, it is clever-everyone thinks that these cells hold dire criminals. It wouldn't be odd for the Fifths to continue feeding them, and nobody would suspect that the occupants had been replaced with the First Generation, assuming they didn't look too closely at the color of the muscles.\"\n\n\"We need to keep moving,\" Sazed said. \"Get to KanPaar.\"\n\nTenSoon shook his head. \"We won't get far without the Firsts to tell our story, Terrisman. Go and store more of your Feruchemy. We may need it.\"\n\nWith that, TenSoon moved over, crouching over to their captive. \"You have two options, FhorKood,\" he said. \"Either relinquish those bones, or I'll digest your body and kill you, as I did OreSeur.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sazed frowned, watching. The captured kandra seemed terrified of TenSoon. The Fifth's body liquefied, and he moved slug-like away from the granite bones. TenSoon smiled.\n\n\"What is that for?\" Sazed asked.\n\n\"Something Zane taught me,\" TenSoon said, his dog's body beginning to melt, the hair falling out. \"Nobody expects a kandra to bean impostor. Ina few moments, FhorKood here will return to the Second Generation and tell them that the traitor TenSoon has been captured. I should be able to stall long enough for the Firsts to regenerate-they will take far longer than I do to make bodies.\"\n\nSazed nodded. MeLaan returned a short time later with a large sack full of bones, and TenSoon-having re-created FhorKood's body with incredible speed-moved out of the chamber on his mission.\n\nThen, Sazed sat down, removing the lock and holding it to use as a metalmind, using an iron hammer in the other hand to store weight. It felt odd to just sit there, but apparently the Firsts would need a few hours to regenerate their bodies.\n\nThere really isn't a rush, is there? Sazed thought. I have the First Generation here-they're the ones I needed. I can continue to question them, learn what I want. TenSoon will have KanPaar distracted. It doesn't matter that the Seconds will be in charge fora few more hours.\n\nWhat harm could they possibly do?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I believe that the mists were searching for someone to become anew host for them. The power needed a consciousness to direct it. In this matter, I am still rather confused. Why would power used to create and destroy need a mind to oversee it? And yet, it seems to have only a vague will of its own, tied into the mandate of its abilities. Without a consciousness to direct it, nothing could actually be created or destroyed. It's as if the power of Preservation understands that its tendency to reinforce stability is not enough. If nothing changed, nothing would ever come to exist.\n\nThat makes me wonder who or what the minds of Preservation and Ruin were.\n\nRegardless, the mists-the power of Preservation-chose someone to become their host long before all of this happened. That someone, however, was immediately seized by Ruin and used as a pawn. He must have known that by giving her a disguised Hemalurgic spike, he would keep the mists from investing themselves in her as they wished.\n\nThe three times she drew upon their power, then, were the three times when her earring had been removed from her body. When she had fought the Lord Ruler, his Allomancy had ripped it free. When fighting Marsh in Fadrex, she had used the earring as a weapon. And, at the end, Marsh ripped it out, freeing her and allowing the mists-which were now desperate fora host, since Preservation's last wisp was gone-to finally pour themselves into her.\n\nSOMETHING CHANGED.\n\nVin arose from her contemplation of the world. Something important was happening. She didn't have enough experience to tell what it was immediately, but she did see Ruin's nexus suddenly shoot away.\n\nShe followed. Speed wasn't an issue. In fact, she didn't even really feel like she was moving. She'followed\" because that was how her mind interpreted the experience of instantly moving her consciousness to the place where Ruin had focused his." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She recognized the area. The Pits of Hathsin, or a place nearby. As a portion of her mind had noticed earlier, the Pits themselves had become a massive refugee camp, the people there quickly consuming the resources that the Terris people had carefully stored. Apart of her smiled. The Terris gave of their goods freely, helping those who had fled Luthadel. The Lord Ruler had worked to breed the Terris so they were docile. However, had he expected that in making his perfect servants, he would also create a thoughtful, kindly people who would give of their last flocks to help those who were starving?\n\nThe thing that she'd noticed earlier didn't have to do with the Terris or their guests. She saw it as she drew closer. A shining blaze of... something. Powerful, more mighty than the sun itself to her eyes. She focused on it, but could see little. What could shine so magnificently?\n\n\"Take this,\" a voice said. \"Find humans, and trade for weapons and supplies.\"\n\n\"Yes, Lord KanPaar,\" a second voice said. They were coming from the center of the shining area. It was to the side of the Pits, only a few minutes' travel from the refugees.\n\nOh, no... Vin thought, feeling a sudden dread.\n\n\"The foolish Firsts have sat on this treasure for far too long,\" KanPaar said. \"With these riches, we could be ruling, not serving, mankind.\"\n\n\"I... thought we didn't want to change things?\" the second voice said.\n\n\"Oh, we won't. Not quickly, at least. For now, just this small amount needs to be sold...\"\n\nHidden beneath the ground, Vin thought, heightened mind making the connections. Ina place that already shines because of the large number of metal deposits. Ruin would never have been able to know where the atium was." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The depth of the Lord Ruler's strategies amazed her." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He had held on fora thousand years, maintaining such an amazing secret, keeping atium safe. She imagined obligators communicating only on metal plates, giving instructions for the operations at the Pits. She imagined caravans traveling from the Pits, carrying atium mixed with gold and coins to hide where it was moving and what exactly was going on.\n\nYou don't know what I do for mankind, the Lord Ruler had said.\n\nAnd I didn't, Vin thought. Thank you.\n\nShe felt Ruin surge with power, and she blocked him. But just as she had been able to get a tendril of power past Ruin to Elend, Ruin was able to get the tiniest thread through. It was enough, for the one who had spoken was tainted with Hemalurgy. A spike in each shoulder drew Ruin's power and allowed him to speak to their bearer.\n\nA kandra? Vin thought, her senses finally managing to peer through the atium glare to see a creature with a translucent body standing in a cavern, just beneath the ground. Another kandra was crawling out of a hole nearby, carrying a small pouch of atium.\n\nRuin seized control of the kandra KanPaar. The creature stiffened, his metal spikes betraying him.\n\nSpeak of this, Ruin said to KanPaar, Vin feeling his words as they pulsed into the kandra. How much atium is there?\n\n\"Wha... who are you?\" KanPaar said. \"Why are you in my head?\"\n\nI am God, the voice said. And you are mine.\n\nAll of you are mine.\n\nElend landed outside the Pits of Hathsin, throwing up a puff of ash. Oddly, some of his own soldiers were there, guarding the perimeter. They rushed forward, spears held anxiously, then froze when they recognized him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Lord Venture?\" one of the men asked with shock.\n\n\"I know you,\" Elend said, frowning. \"From my army at Fadrex.\"\n\n\"You sent us back, my lord,\" the other soldier said. \"With General Demoux. To help Lord Penrod in Luthadel.\"\n\nElend glanced up at the night sky, speckled with stars. Sometime had passed during his travel to the Pits from Luthadel. If time were now passing normally, the night was halfway through. What would happen when the sun rose again?\n\n\"Quickly,\" Elend said. \"I need to speak with the leaders of this camp.\"\n\nThe return of the First Generation was accomplished with as much flair as Sazed had hoped. The old kandra, now wearing larger bodies, still bore the distinctive colorings and aged skin of their generation. He had feared that the ordinary kandra would not recognize them. However, he hadn't counted on the long lifespans of the kandra people. Even if the Firsts only emerged once every century, most of the kandra would have seen them several times.\n\nSazed smiled as the group of Firsts moved into the main kandra chamber, continuing to cause shock and surprise in the others. They proclaimed KanPaar had betrayed them and imprisoned them, then called the kandra people to assemble. Sazed stayed back behind MeLaan and the others, watching for snags in their plan.\n\nTo the side, he saw a familiar kandra approaching.\n\n\"Keeper,\" TenSoon said, still wearing the body of a Fifth. \"We need to be careful. There are strange things afoot.\"\n\n\"Such as?\" Sazed asked.\n\nThen, TenSoon attacked him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Sazed started, and his moment of confusion cost him dearly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "TenSoon-or whoever it was-got his hands around Sazed's throat and began to choke him. They fell backward, drawing the attention of the surrounding kandra. Sazed's assailant-bearing bones of rock-weighed far more than Sazed, and was easily able to roll to the top, his hands still on Sazed's neck.\n\n\"TenSoon?\" MeLaan asked, sounding terrified.\n\nIt's not him, Sazed thought. It can't be....\n\n\"Keeper,\" his assailant said between clenched teeth. \"Something is very wrong.\"\n\nYou're telling me! Sazed tried to gasp for breath, reaching toward the pocket of his robe, struggling to grab the metalmind lock inside.\n\n\"I can barely keep myself from crushing your throat right now,\" the kandra continued. \"Something has control of me. It wants me to kill you.\"\n\nYou're doing a pretty good job! Sazed thought.\n\n\"I'm sorry,\" TenSoon said.\n\nThe Firsts had gathered around them. Sazed was barely able to focus, panic controlling him as he fought a much stronger, much heavier foe. He grabbed hold of his impromptu steelmind, but only then realized that speed would do him little good when he was being held so tightly.\n\n\"It has come, then,\" whispered Haddek, leader of the Firsts. Sazed barely noticed as one of the other Firsts began to shake. People were crying out but the blood thumping in Sazed's ears kept him from hearing what they were saying.\n\nHaddek turned away from the gasping Sazed. And then, in aloud voice, yelled something. \"The Resolution has come!\"\n\nAbove him, TenSoon jerked. Something within the kandra seemed to be fighting-tradition and a lifetime of training warred against the control of an outside force. TenSoon released Sazed with one hand, but kept choking him with the other. Then, with his freehand, the kandra reached toward his own shoulder." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sazed blacked out." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The kandra people always said they were of Preservation, while the koloss and Inquisitors were of Ruin. Yet, the kandra bore Hemalurgic spikes, just like the others. Was their claim, then, simple delusion?\n\nNo, I think not. They were created by the Lord Ruler to be spies. When they said such things, most of us interpreted that as meaning he planned to use them as spies in his new government, because of their ability to imitate other people. Indeed, they were used for this purpose.\n\nBut I see something much more grand in their existence. They were the Lord Ruler's double agents, planted with Hemalurgic spikes, yet trusted-taught, bound-to pull them free when Ruin tried to seize them. In Ruin's moment of triumph, when he'd always assumed the kandra would be his on a whim, the vast majority of them immediately switched sides and left him unable to seize his prize.\n\nThey were of Preservation all along.\n\n\"THE TERRISMEN DID A GOOD job with this place, my lord,\" Demoux said.\n\nElend nodded, walking through the quiet nighttime camp with hands clasped behind his back. He was glad he'd stopped to change into afresh white uniform before leaving Fadrex. As it was supposed to, the clothing attracted attention. The people seemed to take hope simply from seeing him. Their lives had been cast into chaos-they needed to know that their leader was aware of their situation.\n\n\"The camp is enormous, as you can see,\" Demoux continued. \"Several hundred thousand people now live here. Without the Terrismen, I doubt that the refugees would have survived. As it is, they managed to keep sickness to a minimum, to organize crews to filter and bring freshwater to the camp, and to distribute food and blankets.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Demoux hesitated, glancing at Elend. \"Food is running out, however,\" the general said quietly. Apparently, when he'd discovered that Penrod was dead and that most of Luthadel's population was at the Pits, he decided to keep his men thereto help.\n\nThey passed another campfire, and the people there rose. They watched Elend and his general with hope. At this campfire, Demoux stopped as a young Terris-woman approached and handed him and Elend some warm tea to drink. Her eyes lingered fondly on Demoux, and he thanked her by name. The Terris people were affectionate toward Demoux-they were thankful to him for bringing soldiers to help organize and police the mass of refugees.\n\nThe people needed leadership and order in these times. \"I shouldn't have left Luthadel,\" Elend said quietly.\n\nDemoux didn't respond immediately. The two of them finished their tea, then continued on, walking with an honor guard of about ten soldiers, all from Demoux's group. The general had sent several messengers back to Elend. They had never arrived. Perhaps they hadn't been able to get around the lava field. Or perhaps they had run afoul of the very same army of koloss Elend had passed on his way to Luthadel.\n\nThose koloss... Elend thought. The ones we drove away from Fadrex, plus more, are coming directly in this direction. There are even more people here than there were in Fadrex. And they don't have a city wall, or many soldiers at all, to protect them.\n\n\"Have you been able to figure out what happened in Luthadel, Demoux?\" Elend asked quietly, pausing in a darkened area between campfires. It still felt so strange to be outwith no mists to obscure the night. He could see so much further-yet, oddly, the night didn't seem as bright." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Penrod, my lord,\" Demoux said softly. \"They say he went mad. He began finding traitors in the nobility, even within his own army. He divided the city, and it turned into another house war. Almost all of the soldiers killed one another, and the city half burned down. The majority of the people escaped, but they have very little byway of protection. A determined group of bandits could probably wreak havoc on this whole group.\"\n\nElend fell silent. House war, he thought with frustration. Ruin, using our own tricks against us. That's the same method Kelsier used to seize the city.\n\n\"My lord...\" Demoux said tentatively.\n\n\"Speak,\" Elend said.\n\n\"You were right to send me and my men back,\" Demoux said. \"The Survivor is behind this, my lord. He wanted us here for some reason.\"\n\nElend frowned. \"What makes you say that?\"\n\n\"These people,\" Demoux said, \"they fled Luthadel because of Kelsier. He appeared to a pair of soldiers, then a group of people, in the city. They say he'd told them to be ready for disaster, and to lead the people out of the city. It's because of them that so many escaped. Those two soldiers and their friends had supplies prepared, and they had the presence of mind to come here.\"\n\nElend's frown deepened. Yet, he had seen too much to reject even such a strange story. \"Send for these men,\" he said.\n\nDemoux nodded, waving fora soldier.\n\n\"Also,\" Elend said, remembering that Demoux and his men had been sick from the mists, \"see if anyone here has any Allomantic metals. Pass them out to your soldiers and have them ingest them.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My lord?\" Demoux said, confused, as he turned.\n\n\"It's along story, Demoux,\" Elend said. \"Suffice it to say that your god-or somebody-has made you and your men into Allomancers. Divide your men by the metal it turns out they can burn. We're going to need all of the Coinshots, Thugs, and Lurchers we can get.\"\n\nSazed's eyes fluttered open, and he shook his head, groaning. How long had he been out? Probably not long, he realized, as his vision cleared. He'd passed out from lack of air. That kind of thing usually only left one unconscious fora short time.\n\nAssuming one woke up at all.\n\nWhich I did, he thought, coughing and rubbing his throat, sitting up. The kandra cavern glowed with the quiet light of its blue phosphorescent lanterns. By that light, he could see that he was surrounded by something strange.\n\nMistwraiths. The cousins of the kandra, the scavengers that hunted at night and fed on corpses. They moved about Sazed, masses of muscle, flesh, and bone-but with those bones combined in strange, unnatural ways. Feet hanging off at angles, heads connected to arms. Ribs used like legs.\n\nExcept, these bones were not actually bone at all, but stone, metal, or wood. Sazed stood up solemnly as he looked over the remnants of the kandra people. Littered across the floor, among the jumbled mass of mistwraiths-who oozed about like giant, translucent slugs-were discarded spikes. Kandra Blessings. The things that had brought them sentience.\n\nThey had done it. They had held to their oath, and had removed their spikes rather than betaken over by Ruin. Sazed looked over them with pity, amazement, and respect." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The atium, he thought. They did this to stop Ruin from getting the atium. I have to protect it!\n\nHe stumbled away from the main chamber, regaining his strength as he made his way to the Trustwarren. He paused, however, as he approached, noticing sounds. He peeked around a corner, and looked down the corridor through the open Trustwarren doorway. Inside, he found a group of kandra-perhaps twenty in number-working to push back the plate on the floor that covered the atium.\n\nOf course they didn't all become mistwraiths, he thought. Some would have been outside of the hearing of the Firsts, or wouldn't have had the courage to pull their spikes free. In fact, as he thought about it, he was even more impressed that so many had obeyed the command from the First Generation.\n\nSazed easily recognized KanPaar directing the work inside. The kandra would take the atium and would deliver it to Ruin. Sazed had to stop them. But it was twenty against one-with Sazed having only one small metalmind. It didn't seem like good odds for him.\n\nHowever, then Sazed noticed something sitting outside the doors of the Trust-warren. A simple cloth sack, of little note save for the fact that Sazed recognized it. He'd carried his metalminds in it for years. They must have tossed it thereafter taking Sazed captive. It layabout twenty feet down the corridor from him, right beside the doorway into the Trustwarren.\n\nIn the other room, KanPaar looked up, staring directly toward Sazed's position. Ruin had noticed him.\n\nSazed didn't pause to think further. He reached into his pocket, grabbed the steel lock, and tapped it. He rushed through the corridor on inhumanly quick feet, snatching his sack from the ground as kandra began to cry out." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Sazed snapped open the sack, and found a collection of bracelets, rings, and bracers inside. He dumped them out, spilling the precious metalminds to the floor and grabbed two particular ones. Then, still moving at blurring speed, he dashed to the side.\n\nHis steelmind ran out. One of the rings he'd grabbed was pewter. He tapped it for strength, growing in size and bulk. Then, he slammed the doors to the Trustwarren closed, causing those now trapped inside to cry out in shock. Finally, he tapped the other ring-this one iron. He grew several times heavier, making himself into a doorstop, holding the massive metal doors to the Trustwarren closed.\n\nIt was a delaying tactic. He stood, holding the doors shut, his metalminds depleting at an alarming rate. They were the same rings he'd worn at the siege of Luthadel, the ones that had been embedded within him. He'd replenished them following the siege, before he'd given up Feruchemy. They would not last long. What would he do when the kandra burst through the door? He searched desperately fora way to bar or block the portal, but could see nothing. And, if he let go for even a moment, the kandra inside would burst free.\n\n\"Please,\" he whispered, hoping that-like before-the thing that listened would give him a miracle. \"I'm going to need help....\"\n\n\"I swear it was him, my lord,\" said the soldier, a man named Rittle. \"I've believed in the Church of the Survivor since the day of Kelsier's own death, my lord. He preached tome, converted me to the rebellion. I was there when he visited the caves and had Lord Demoux fight for his honor. I'd know Kelsier like I'd know my father. It was the Survivor.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Elend turned to the other soldier, who nodded in agreement." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I didn't know him, my lord,\" said this man. \"However, he matched the descriptions. I think it was really him, I do.\"\n\nElend turned to Demoux, who nodded. \"They described Lord Kelsier very accurately, my lord. He is watching over us.\"\n\nElend....\n\nA messenger arrived and whispered something to Demoux. The night was dark, and in the torchlight, Elend turned to study the two soldiers who had seen Kelsier. They didn't look like highly reliable witnesses-Elend hadn't exactly left his best soldiers behind when he'd gone campaigning. Still, others had apparently seen the Survivor too. Elend would want to speak with them.\n\nHe shook his head. And, wherein the world was Vin?\n\nElend....\n\n\"My lord,\" Demoux said, touching his arm, looking concerned. Elend dismissed the two soldier witnesses. Accurate or not, he owed them a great debt-they had saved many lives with their preparation.\n\n\"Scout's report, my lord,\" Demoux said, face illuminated by a pole-top torch flickering in the night breeze. \"Those koloss you saw, they are heading this way. Moving quickly. Scouts saw them approaching in the distance from a hilltop. They... could be here before the night is over.\"\n\nElend cursed quietly.\n\nElend....\n\nHe frowned. Why did he keep hearing his name on the wind? He turned, looking into the darkness. Something was pulling him, guiding him, whispering to him. He tried to ignore it, turning back to Demoux. And yet, it was there, in his heart.\n\nCome....\n\nIt seemed like Vin's voice.\n\n\"Gather an honor guard,\" Elend said, grabbing the torch by its shaft, then throwing on an ashcloak and buttoning it down to his knees. Then, he turned toward the darkness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My lord?\" Demoux said.\n\n\"Just do it!\" Elend said, striding off into the darkness.\n\nDemoux called for some soldiers, following in a hurry.\n\nWhat am I doing? Elend thought, pushing his way through the waist-deep ash, using the cloak to keep his uniform somewhat clean. Chasing at dreams? Maybe I'm going mad.\n\nHe could see something in his mind. A hillside with a hole in it. A memory, perhaps? Had he come this way before? Demoux and his soldiers followed quietly, looking apprehensive.\n\nElend pushed onward. He was almost-\n\nHe stopped. There it was, the hillside. It would have been indistinguishable from the others around it, except there were tracks leading up to it. Elend frowned, pushing forward through the deep ash, moving to the point where the tracks ended. There, he found a hole in the ground, leading down.\n\nA cave, he thought. Perhaps... a place for my people to hide?\n\nIt wouldn't be big enough for that, likely. Still, the caves Kelsier had used for his rebellion had been large enough to hold some ten thousand men. Curious, Elend poked down into the cave, walking down its steep incline, throwing off the cloak. Demoux and his men followed with curiosity.\n\nThe tunnel went down fora bit, and Elend was surprised to find that there was light coming from ahead. Immediately, he flared pewter, growing tense. He tossed aside his torch, then burned tin, enhancing his vision. He could see several poles that glowed blue at the top. They appeared to be made of rock.\n\nWhat in the world...?\n\nHe moved forward quickly, motioning for Demoux and his men to follow. The tunnel led to avast cavern. Elend stopped. It was as large as one of the storage caverns. Larger, perhaps. Down below, something moved." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mistwraiths? he realized with surprise. Is this where they hide? In holes in the ground?\n\nHe dropped a coin, shooting himself through the poorly lit cavern to land on the stone floor a distance away from Demoux and the others. The mistwraiths weren't as large as others he had seen. And... why were they using rocks and wood in place of bones?\n\nHe heard a sound. Only tin-enhanced ears let him catch it, but it sounded distinctly unlike a sound a mistwraith would make. Stone against metal. He waved sharply to Demoux, then moved carefully down aside corridor.\n\nAt its end, he stopped in surprise. A familiar figure stood against a pair of large metal doors, grunting, apparently trying to hold them closed.\n\n\"Sazed?\" Elend asked, standing up straighter.\n\nSazed looked up, saw Elend, and was apparently so surprised that he lost control of the doors. They burst open, throwing the Terrisman aside, revealing a group of angry, translucent-skinned kandra.\n\n\"Your Majesty!\" Sazed said. \"Do not let them escape!\"\n\nDemoux and his soldiers clanked up behind Elend. That's either Sazed, or a kandra who ate his bones, Elend thought. He made a snap decision. He'd trusted the voice in his ear. He'd trust that this was Sazed.\n\nThe group of kandra tried to get past Demoux's soldiers. However, the kandra weren't particularly good warriors, and their weapons were made of metal. It took Elend and Demoux all of about two minutes to subdue the group, breaking their bones to keep them from healing and escaping.\n\nAfterward, Elend walked over to Sazed, who had stood up and dusted himself off. \"How did you find me, Your Majesty?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I honestly don't know,\" Elend said. \"Sazed, what is this place?\"\n\n\"The Homeland of the kandra people, Your Majesty,\" Sazed said. \"And the hiding place of the Lord Ruler's atium hoard.\"\n\nElend raised an eyebrow, following Sazed's pointed finger. There was a room beyond the doors, and a pit in the floor.\n\nGreat, Elend thought. Now we find it.\n\n\"You don't look too excited, Your Majesty,\" Sazed noted. \"Kings, armies, Mistborn-even Kelsier himself-have been searching for this cache for years.\"\n\n\"It's worthless,\" Elend said. \"My people are starving, and they can't eat metal. This cavern, however... it might prove useful. What do you think, Demoux?\"\n\n\"If there are any other chambers like that first one, my lord, it could hold a substantial percentage of our people.\"\n\n\"There are four large caverns,\" Sazed said. \"And four entrances that I know of.\"\n\nElend turned to Demoux. He was already giving orders to his soldiers. We have to get the people down here before the sunrises, Elend thought, remembering the heat. At the very least, before those koloss arrive.\n\nAfter that... well, they would have to see. For now, Elend had only one goal.\n\nSurvival." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Snapping has always been the dark side of Allomancy. A person's genetic endowment may make them a potential Allomancer, but in order for the power to manifest, the body must be put through extraordinary trauma. Though Elend spoke of how terrible his beating was, during our day, unlocking Allomancy in a person was easier than it had once been, for we had the infusion of Preservation's power into the human bloodlines via the nuggets granted to nobility by the Lord Ruler.\n\nWhen Preservation setup the mists, he was afraid of Ruin escaping his prison. In those early days, before the Ascension, the mists began to Snap people as they did during our time-but this action of the mists was one of the only ways to awaken Allomancy in a person, for the genetic attributes were buried too deeply to be brought out by a simple beating. The mists of that day created Mistings only, of course-there were no Mistborn until the Lord Ruler made use of the nuggets.\n\nThe people misinterpreted the mists'intent, as the process of Snapping Allomancers caused some-particularly the young and the old-to die. This hadn't been Preservation's desire, but he'd given upmost of his consciousness to form Ruin's prison, and the mists had to be left to work as best they could without specific direction.\n\nRuin, subtle as ever, knew that he couldn't stop the mists from doing their work. However, he could do the unexpected and encourage them. And so, he helped make them stronger. That brought death to the plants of the world, and created the threat that became known as the Deepness.\n\nVIN TURNED TOWARD RUIN, projecting a smile. The cloud of twisting black mist seemed agitated." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So, you can influence a single minion, Ruin snapped, turning upon itself, rising in the air. Vin followed, streaking up to loom over the entire Central Dominance. Below, she could see Demoux's soldiers rushing to the camp, waking the people, organizing them to flight. Already, some of them were making their way along the tracks in the ash toward the safety of the caverns.\n\nShe could feel the sun, and knew that the planet was far too near it to be safe. Yet, she could do nothing more. Not only would Ruin have stopped her, but she didn't understand her power yet. She felt as the Lord Ruler must have-almighty, yet clumsy. If she tried to move the world, she would only make things worse.\n\nBut, she had accomplished something. Ruin had his koloss pounding toward them at breakneck speed, but they still wouldn't arrive at the Pits for several hours. Plenty of time to get the people to the caverns.\n\nRuin must have noticed what she was studying, or perhaps he sensed her smugness. You think you've won? he asked, sounding amused. Why, because you managed to stop a few kandra? They were always the weakest of the minions the Lord Ruler created for me. I have made a habit of ignoring them. Either way, Vin, you cannot really think that you have beaten me.\n\nVin waited, watching as the people fled to the relative safety of the caverns. Even as the bulk of them arrived-soldiers separating them into groups, sending them to the different entrances-her good humor began to fade. She had managed to get through to Elend, and while it had seemed like a great victory at the moment, she could now see that it was little more than another stalling tactic." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Have you counted the koloss in my army, Vin? Ruin asked. I've made them from your people, you know. I've gathered hundreds of thousands.\n\nVin focused, enumerating instantly. He was telling the truth.\n\nThis is the force I could have thrown at you at anytime, Ruin said. Most of them kept to the Outer Dominances, but I've been bringing them in, marching them toward Luthadel. How many times must I tell you, Vin? You can't win. You could never win. I've just been playing with you.\n\nVin pulled back, ignoring his lies. He hadn't been playing with them-he'd been trying to discover the secrets that Preservation had left, the secret that the Lord Ruler had kept. Still, the numbers Ruin had finally managed to marshal were awe-inspiring. There were far more koloss than there were people climbing into the caverns. With a force like that, Ruin could assault even a well-fortified position. And, by Vin's count, Elend had fewer than a thousand men with any battle training.\n\nOn top of that, there was the sun and its destructive heat, the death of the world's crops, the tainting of water and land with several feet of ash... Even the lava flows, which she had stopped, were beginning again, her plugging of the ashmounts having provided only a temporary solution. A bad one, even. Now that the mountains couldn't erupt, great cracks were appearing in the land, and the magma, the earth's burning blood, was boiling out that way.\n\nWe're just so far behind! Vin thought. Ruin had centuries to plan this. Even when we thought we were being clever, we fell for his plots. What good is it to sequester my people beneath the ground if they're just going to starve?" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Keep the narrative going for the author.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, prophecy\nAuthor: Brandon Sanderson\nTitle: The Hero of Ages\nChapter: 95" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Have you counted the koloss in my army, Vin? Ruin asked. I've made them from your people, you know. I've gathered hundreds of thousands.\n\nVin focused, enumerating instantly. He was telling the truth.\n\nThis is the force I could have thrown at you at anytime, Ruin said. Most of them kept to the Outer Dominances, but I've been bringing them in, marching them toward Luthadel. How many times must I tell you, Vin? You can't win. You could never win. I've just been playing with you.\n\nVin pulled back, ignoring his lies. He hadn't been playing with them-he'd been trying to discover the secrets that Preservation had left, the secret that the Lord Ruler had kept. Still, the numbers Ruin had finally managed to marshal were awe-inspiring. There were far more koloss than there were people climbing into the caverns. With a force like that, Ruin could assault even a well-fortified position. And, by Vin's count, Elend had fewer than a thousand men with any battle training.\n\nOn top of that, there was the sun and its destructive heat, the death of the world's crops, the tainting of water and land with several feet of ash... Even the lava flows, which she had stopped, were beginning again, her plugging of the ashmounts having provided only a temporary solution. A bad one, even. Now that the mountains couldn't erupt, great cracks were appearing in the land, and the magma, the earth's burning blood, was boiling out that way.\n\nWe're just so far behind! Vin thought. Ruin had centuries to plan this. Even when we thought we were being clever, we fell for his plots. What good is it to sequester my people beneath the ground if they're just going to starve?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She turned toward Ruin, who sat billowing and shifting upon himself, watching his koloss army. She felt a hatred that seemed incompatible with the power she held. The hatred made her sick, but she didn't let goof it.\n\nThis thing before her... it would destroy everything she knew, everything she loved. It couldn't understand love. It built only so that it could destroy. At that moment, she reversed her earlier decision. She'd never again call Ruin a'him.\" Humanizing the creature gave it too much respect.\n\nSeething, watching, she didn't know what else to do. So, she attacked.\n\nShe wasn't even certain how she did it. She threw herself at Ruin, forcing her power up against its power. There was friction between them, a clash of energy, and it tormented her divine body. Ruin cried out, and-mixing with Ruin-she knew its mind.\n\nRuin was surprised. It didn't expect Preservation to be able to attack. Vin's move smacked too much of destruction. Ruin didn't know how to respond, but it threw its power back against her in a protective reflex. Their selves crashed, threatening to dissolve. Finally, Vin pulled back, lacerated, rebuffed.\n\nTheir power was too well matched. Opposite, yet similar. Like Allomancy.\n\nOpposition, Ruin whispered. Balance. You'll learn to hate it, I suspect, though Preservation never could.\n\n\"So, this is the body of a god?\" Elend asked, rolling the bead of atium around in his palm. He held it up next to the one that Yomen had given him.\n\n\"Indeed, Your Majesty,\" Sazed said. The Terrisman looked eager. Didn't he understand how dangerous their situation was? Demoux's scouts-the ones that had returned-reported that the koloss were only minutes away. Elend had ordered his troops posted at the doorways to the Homeland, but his hope-that the koloss wouldn't know whereto find his people-was a slim one, considering what Sazed had told him about Ruin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Ruin can't help but come for it,\" Sazed explained." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They stood in the metal-lined cavern called the Trustwarren, the place where the kandra had spent the last thousand years gathering and guarding the atium. \"This atium is part of him. It's what he's been searching for all this time.\"\n\n\"Which means we'll have a couple hundred thousand koloss trying to climb down our throats, Sazed,\" Elend said, handing back the bead of atium. \"I say we give it to him.\"\n\nSazed paled. \"Give it to him? Your Majesty, my apologies, but that would mean the end of the world. Instantly. I am certain of it.\"\n\nGreat, Elend thought.\n\n\"It will be all right, Elend,\" Sazed said.\n\nElend frowned up at the Terrisman, who stood peacefully in his robes.\n\n\"Vin will come,\" Sazed explained. \"She is the Hero of Ages-she will arrive to save this people. Don't you see how perfect this all is? It's arranged, planned. That you would come here, find me, at this exact moment... That you'd be able to lead the people to safety in these caverns... Well, it all fits together. She'll come.\"\n\nInteresting time for him to get his faith back, Elend thought. He rolled Yomen's bead between his fingers, thinking. Outside the room, he could hear whispers. People-Terris stewards, skaa leaders, even a few soldiers-stood listening. Elend could hear the anxiety in their voices. They had heard of the approaching army. As Elend watched, Demoux carefully pushed his way through them and entered the room.\n\n\"Soldiers posted, my lord,\" the general said." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How many do we have?\" Elend asked.\n\nDemoux looked grim. \"The two hundred and eighty I brought with me,\" he said. \"Plus about five hundred from the city. Another hundred ordinary citizens that we armed with those kandra hammers, or spare weapons from our soldiers. And, we have four different entrances to this cavern complex we need to guard.\"\n\nElend closed his eyes.\n\n\"She'll come,\" Sazed said.\n\n\"My lord,\" Demoux said, pulling Elend aside. \"This is bad.\"\n\n\"I know,\" Elend said, exhaling softly. \"Did you give the men metals?\"\n\n\"What we could find,\" Demoux said quietly. \"The people didn't think to bring powdered metal with them when they fled Luthadel. We've found a couple of noblemen who were Allomancers, but they were only Copperclouds or Seekers.\"\n\nElend nodded. He'd bribed or pressed the useful nobleman Allomancers into his army already.\n\n\"We gave those metals to my soldiers,\" Demoux said. \"But none of them could burn them. Even if we had Allomancers, we cannot hold this location, my lord! Not with so few soldiers, not against that many koloss. We'll delay them at first, because of the narrow entrances. But... well...\"\n\n\"I realize that, Demoux,\" Elend said with frustration. \"But do you have any other options?\"\n\nDemoux was silent. \"I was hoping you'd have some, my lord.\"\n\n\"None here,\" Elend said.\n\nDemoux grew grim. \"Then we die.\"\n\n\"What about faith, Demoux?\" Elend asked.\n\n\"I believe in the Survivor, my lord. But... well, this looks pretty bad. I've felt like a man waiting his turn before the headsman ever since we spotted those koloss. Maybe the Survivor doesn't want us to succeed here. Sometimes, people just have to die.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Elend turned away, frustrated, clenching and unclenching his fist around the bead of atium. It was the same problem, the same trouble he always had. He'd failed back during the siege of Luthadel-it had taken Vin to protect the city. He'd failed in Fadrex City-only the koloss getting distracted had rescued him there.\n\nA ruler's most basic duty was to protect his people. In this one area, Elend continually felt impotent. Useless.\n\nWhy can't I do it? Elend thought with frustration. I spend a year searching out storage caverns to provide food, only to end up trapped with my people starving. I search all that time looking for the atium-hoping to use it to buy safety for my people-and then I find it too late to spend it on anything.\n\nToo late....\n\nHe paused, glancing back toward the metal plate in the floor.\n\nYears searching for... atium.\n\nNone of the metals Demoux had given his soldiers had worked. Elend had been working under the assumption that Demoux's group would be like the other mistfallen back in Urteau-that they'd be composed of all kinds of Mistings. Yet, there had been something different about Demoux's group. They had fallen sick for far longer than the others.\n\nElend pushed forward, rushing past Sazed, grabbing a handful of beads. Avast wealth, unlike anything any man had ever possessed. Valuable for its rarity. Valuable for its economic power. Valuable for its Allomancy.\n\n\"Demoux,\" he snapped, rising and tossing the bead to him. \"Eat this.\"\n\nDemoux frowned. \"My lord?\"\n\n\"Eat it,\" Elend said." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Demoux did as asked. He stood fora moment.\n\nTwo hundred and eighty men, Elend thought. Sent away from my army because of all the ones who fell sick, they were the most sick. Sixteen days.\n\nTwo hundred and eighty men. One-sixteenth of those who fell sick. One out of sixteen Allomantic metals.\n\nYomen had proven that there was such a thing as an atium Misting. If Elend hadn't been so distracted, he would have made the connection earlier. If one out of sixteen who fell sick remained that way the longest, would that not imply that they'd gained the most powerful of the sixteen abilities?\n\nDemoux looked up, eyes widening.\n\nAnd Elend smiled.\n\nVin hovered outside the cavern, watching with dread as the koloss approached. They were already in a blood frenzy-Ruin had that much control over them. There were thousands upon thousands of them. The slaughter was about to begin.\n\nVin cried out as they drew closer, throwing herself against Ruin again, trying to drive her power to destroy the thing. As before, she was rebuffed. She felt herself screaming, trembling as she thought about the impending deaths below. It would be like the tsunami deaths on the coast, only worse.\n\nFor these were people she knew. People she loved.\n\nShe turned back toward the entrance. She didn't want to watch, but she wouldn't be able to do anything else. Herself was everywhere. Even if she pulled her nexus away, she knew that she'd still feel the deaths-that they would make her tremble and weep.\n\nFrom within the cavern, echoing, she sensed a familiar voice. \"Today, men, I ask of you your lives.\" Vin hovered down, listening, though she couldn't see into the cavern because of the metals in the rock. She could hear, however. If she'd had eyes, she would have been crying, she knew." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I ask of you your lives,\" Elend said, voice echoing, \" and your courage. I ask of you your faith, and your honor-your strength, and your compassion. For today, I lead you to die. I will not ask you to welcome this event. I will not insult you by calling it well, or just, or even glorious. But I will say this.\n\n\"Each moment you fight is a gift to those in this cavern. Each second we fight is a second longer that thousands of people can draw breath. Each stroke of the sword, each koloss felled, each breath earned is a victory! It is a person protected fora moment longer, a life extended, an enemy frustrated!\"\n\nThere was a brief pause.\n\n\"In the end, they will kill us,\" Elend said, voice loud, ringing in the cavern. \"But first, they shall fear us!\"\n\nThe men yelled at this, and Vin's enhanced mind could pick out around two hundred and fifty distinct voices. She heard them split, rushing toward the different cavern entrances. A moment later, someone appeared from the front entrance near her.\n\nA figure in white slowly stepped out into the ash, brilliant white cape fluttering. He held a sword in one hand.\n\nElend! she tried to cry at him. No! Go back! Charging them is madness! You'll be killed!\n\nElend stood tall, watching the waves of koloss as they approached, trampling down the black ash, an endless sea of death with blue skin and red eyes. Many carried swords, the others just bore rocks and lengths of wood. Elend was a tiny white speck before them, a single dot on an endless canvas of blue.\n\nHe raised his sword high and charged.\n\nELEND!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Suddenly, Elend burst with a brilliant energy, so bright that Vin gasped. He met the first koloss head-on, ducking beneath the swinging sword and decapitating the creature in one stroke. Then, instead of jumping away, he spun to the side, swinging. Another koloss fell. Three swords flashed around him, but all missed by just a breath. Elend ducked to the side, taking a koloss in the stomach, then whipped his sword around-his head barely passing beneath another swing-and took off a koloss arm.\n\nHe still didn't Push himself away. Vin froze, watching as he took down one koloss, then beheaded another in a single, fluid stroke. Elend moved with a grace she had never seen from him-she had always been the better warrior, yet at this moment, he put her to shame. He wove between koloss blades as if he were taking part in a prerehearsed stage fight, body after body falling before his gliding blade.\n\nA group of soldiers in Elend's colors burst from the cavern entrance, charging. Like a wave of light, their forms exploded with power. They, too, moved into the koloss ranks, striking with incredible precision. Not a single one of them fellas Vin watched. They fought with miraculous skill and fortune, each koloss blade falling just a little too late. Blue corpses began to pileup around the glowing force of men.\n\nSomehow, Elend had found an entire army who could burn atium.\n\nElend was a god.\n\nHe'd never burned atium before, and his first experience with the metal filled him with wonder. The koloss around him all emitted atium shadows-images that moved before they did, showing Elend exactly what they would do. He could see into the future, if only a few seconds. Ina battle, that was just what one needed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He could feel the atium enhancing his mind, making him capable of reading and using all of the new information. He didn't even have to pause and think. His arms moved of their own volition, swinging his sword with awesome precision.\n\nHe spun amid a cloud of phantom images, striking at flesh, feeling almost as if he were in the mists again. No koloss could stand against him. He felt energized-he felt amazing. Fora time, he was invincible. He'd swallowed so many atium beads he felt as if he'd throw up. For its entire history, atium had been a thing that men had needed to save and hoard. Burning it had seemed such a shame that it had been used only sparingly, only in instances of great need.\n\nElend didn't need to worry about any of that. He just burned as much as he wanted. And it made him into a disaster for the koloss-a whirlwind of exact strikes and impossible dodges, always a few steps ahead of his opponents. Foe after foe fell before him. And, when he began to get low on atium, he Pushed himself off a fallen sword back to the entrance. There, with plenty of water to wash it down, Sazed waited with another bag of atium.\n\nElend downed the beads quickly, then returned to the battle.\n\nRuin raged and spun, trying to stop the slaughter. Yet, this time, Vin was the force of balance. She blocked Ruin's every attempt to destroy Elend and the others, keeping it contained.\n\nI can't decide if you're a fool, Vin thought toward it, or if you simply exist in away that makes you incapable of considering somethings.\n\nRuin screamed, buffeting against her, trying to destroy her as she had tried to destroy it. However, once again, their powers were too evenly matched. Ruin was forced to pullback." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Life, Vin said. You said that the only reason to create something was so that you could destroy it.\n\nShe hovered beside Elend, watching him fight. The deaths of the koloss should have pained her. Yet, she did not think of the death. Perhaps it was the influence of Preservation's power, but she saw only a man, struggling, fighting, even when hope seemed impossible. She didn't see death, she saw life. She saw faith.\n\nWe create things to watch them grow, Ruin, she said. To take pleasure in seeing that which we love become more than it was before. You said that you were invincible-that all things break apart. All things are Ruined. But there are things that fight against you-and the ironic part is, you can't even understand those things. Love. Life. Growth.\n\nThe life of a person is more than the chaos of its passing. Emotion, Ruin. This is your defeat.\n\nSazed watched anxiously from the mouth of the cavern. A small group of men huddled around him. Garv, leader of the Church of the Survivor in Luthadel. Harathdal, foremost of the Terris stewards. Lord Dedri Vasting, one of the surviving Assembly members from the city government. Aslydin, the young woman whom Demoux had apparently come to love during his few short weeks at the Pits of Hathsin. A smattering of others, important-or faithful-enough to get near the front of the crowd and watch.\n\n\"Where is she, Master Terrisman?\" Garv asked.\n\n\"She'll come,\" Sazed promised, hand resting on the rock wall. The men fell quiet. Soldiers-those without the blessing of atium-waited nervously with them, knowing they were next inline, should Elend's assault fail." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She has to come, Sazed thought. Everything points toward her arrival.\n\n\"The Hero will come,\" he repeated.\n\nElend sheared through two heads at once, dropping the koloss. He spun his blade, taking off an arm, then stabbed another koloss through the neck. He hadn't seen that one approaching, but his mind had seen and interpreted the atium shadow before the real attack came.\n\nAlready he stood atop of carpet of blue corpses. He did not stumble. With atium, his every step was exact, his blade guided, his mind crisp. He took down a particularly large koloss, then stepped back, pausing briefly.\n\nThe sun crested the horizon in the east. It started to grow hotter.\n\nThey had been fighting for hours, yet the army of koloss still seemed endless. Elend slew another koloss, but his motions were beginning to feel sluggish. Atium enhanced the mind, but it did not boost the body, and he'd started to rely on his pewter to keep him going. Who would have known that one could get tired-exhausted, even-while burning atium? Nobody had ever used as much of the metal as Elend had.\n\nBut he had to keep going. His atium was running low. He turned back toward the mouth of the cavern, just in time to see one of his atium soldiers go down in a spray of blood.\n\nElend cursed, spinning as an atium shadow passed through him. He ducked the swing that followed, then took off the creature's arm. He beheaded the one that followed, then cut another's legs out from beneath it. For most of the battle, he hadn't used fancy Allomantic jumps or attacks, just straightforward swordplay. His arms were growing tired, however, and he was forced to begin Pushing koloss away from him to manage the battlefield. The reserve of atium-of life-within him was dwindling. Atium burned so quickly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Another man screamed. Another soldier dead.\n\nElend began to back toward the cavern. There were just so many koloss. His band of two hundred and eighty had slain thousands, yet the koloss didn't care. They kept attacking, a brutal wave of endless determination, resisted only by the pockets of atium Mistings protecting each of the entrances to the Homeland.\n\nAnother man died. They were running out of atium.\n\nElend screamed, swinging his sword about him, taking down three koloss in a maneuver that never should have worked. He flared steel and Pushed the rest away from him.\n\nThe body of a god, burning within me, he thought. He gritted his teeth, attacking as more of his men fell. He scrambled up a pile of koloss, slicing off arms, legs, heads. Stabbing chests, necks, guts. He fought on, alone, his clothing long since stained from white to red.\n\nSomething moved behind him, and he spun, raising his blade, letting the atium lead him. Yet, he froze, uncertain. The creature behind him was no koloss. It stood in a black robe, one eye socket empty and bleeding, the other bearing a spike that had been crushed back into its skull. Elend could see straight into the empty eye socket, through the creature's head, and out the back.\n\nMarsh. He had a cloud of atium shadows around him-he was burning the metal too, and would be immune to Elend's own atium.\n\nHuman led his koloss soldiers through the tunnels. They killed any person in their path.\n\nSome had stood at the entrance. They had fought long. They had been strong. They were dead now.\n\nSomething drove Human on. Something stronger than anything that had controlled him before. Stronger than the little woman with the black hair, though she had been very strong. This thing was stronger. It was Ruin. Human knew this." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He could not resist. He could only kill. He cut down another human.\n\nHuman burst into a large open chamber filled with other little people. Controlling him, Ruin made him turn away and not kill them. Not that Ruin didn't want him to kill them. It just wanted something else more.\n\nHuman rushed forward. He crawled over tumbled rocks and stones. He shoved aside crying humans. Other koloss followed him. For the moment, all of his own desires were forgotten. There was only his overpowering desire to get to...\n\nA small room. There. In front of him. Human threw open the doors. Ruin yelled in pleasure as he entered this room. It contained the thing Ruin wanted.\n\n\"Guess what I found,\" Marsh growled, stepping up, Pushing against Elend's sword. The weapon was ripped from his fingers, flying away. \"Atium. A kandra was carrying it, looking to sell it. Foolish creature.\"\n\nElend cursed, ducking out of the way of a koloss swing, pulling his obsidian dagger from the sheath at his leg.\n\nMarsh stalked forward. Men screamed-cursing, falling-as their atium died out. Elend's soldiers were being overrun. The screams tapered off as the last of his men guarding this entrance died. He doubted the others would last much longer.\n\nElend's atium warned him of attacking koloss, letting him dodge-barely-but he couldn't kill them very effectively with the dagger. And, as the koloss took his attention, Marsh struck with an obsidian axe. The blade fell, and Elend leaped away, but the dodge left him off balance.\n\nElend tried to recover, but his metals were running low-not just his atium, but his basic metals. Iron, steel, pewter. He hadn't been paying much attention to them, since he had atium, but he'd been fighting for so long now. If Marsh had atium, then they were equal-and without basic metals, Elend would die." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "An attack from the Inquisitor forced Elend to flare pewter to getaway. He cut down three koloss with ease, his atium still helping him, but Marsh's immunity was a serious challenge. The Inquisitor crawled over the fallen bodies of koloss, scrambling toward Elend, his single spikehead reflecting the too-bright light of the sun overhead.\n\nElend's pewter ran out.\n\n\"You cannot beat me, Elend Venture,\" Marsh said in a voice like gravel. \"We've killed your wife. I will kill you.\"\n\nVin. Elend didn't believe it. Vin will come, he thought. She'll save us.\n\nFaith. It was a strange thing to feel at that moment. Marsh swung.\n\nPewter andiron suddenly flared to life within Elend. He didn't have time to think about the oddity; he simply reacted, Pulling on his sword, which lay stuck into the ground a distance away. It flipped through the air and he caught it, swinging with a too-quick motion, blocking Marsh's axe. Elend's body seemed to pulse, powerful and vast. He struck forward instinctively, forcing Marsh backward across the ashen field. Koloss backed away for the moment, shying from Elend, as if frightened. Or awed.\n\nMarsh raised a hand to Push on Elend's sword, but nothing happened. It was... as if something deflected the blow. Elend screamed, charging, beating back Marsh with the strikes of his silvery weapon. The Inquisitor looked shocked as it blocked with the obsidian axe, its motions too quick for even Allomancy to explain. Yet Elend still forced him to retreat, across fallen corpses of blue, ash stirring beneath a red sky." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A powerful peace swelled in Elend. His Allomancy flared bright, though he knew the metals inside of him should have burned away. Only atium remained, and its strange power did not-could not-give him the other metals. But it didn't matter. Fora moment, he was embraced by something greater. He looked up, toward the sun.\n\nAnd he saw-just briefly-an enormous figure in the air just above him. A shifting, brilliant personage of pure white. Her hands held to his shoulders with her head thrown back, white hair streaming, mist flaring behind her like wings that stretched across the sky.\n\nVin, he thought with a smile.\n\nElend looked back down as Marsh screamed and leaped forward, attacking with his axe in one hand, seeming to trail something vast and black like a cloak behind him. Marsh raised his other hand across his face, as if to shield his dead eyes from the image in the air above Elend.\n\nElend burned the last of his atium, flaring it to life in his stomach. He raised his sword in two hands and waited for Marsh to draw close. The Inquisitor was stronger and was a better warrior. Marsh had the powers of both Allomancy and Feruchemy, making him another Lord Ruler. This was not a battle Elend could win. Not with a sword.\n\nMarsh arrived, and Elend thought he understood what it had been like for Kelsier to face the Lord Ruler on that square in Luthadel, all those years ago. Marsh struck with his axe; Elend raised his sword in return and prepared to strike.\n\nThen, Elend burned duralumin with his atium.\n\nSight, Sound, Strength, Power, Glory, Speed!\n\nBlue lines sprayed from his chest like rays of light. But those were all overshadowed by one thing. Atium plus duralumin. Ina flash of knowledge, Elend felt a mind-numbing wealth of information. All became white around him as knowledge saturated his mind." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I see now,\" he whispered as the vision faded, and along with it his remaining metals. The battlefield returned. He stood upon it, his sword piercing Marsh's neck. It had gotten caught on the spikehead jutting out of Marsh's back, between the shoulder blades.\n\nMarsh's axe was buried in Elend's chest.\n\nThe phantom metals Vin had given him burned to life within Elend again. They took the pain away. However, there was only so much that pewter could do, no matter how high it was flared. Marsh ripped his axe free, and Elend stumbled backward, bleeding, letting goof his sword. Marsh pulled the blade free from his neck, and the wound vanished, healed by the powers of Feruchemy.\n\nElend fell, slumping into a pile of koloss bodies. He would have been dead already, save for the pewter. Marsh stepped up to him, smiling. His empty eye socket was wreathed in tattoos, the mark that Marsh had taken upon himself. The price he had paid to overthrow the Final Empire.\n\nMarsh grabbed Elend by the throat, pulling him backup. \"Your soldiers are dead, Elend Venture,\" the creature whispered. \"Our koloss rampage inside the kandra caverns. Your metals are gone. You have lost.\"\n\nElend felt his life dripping away, the last trickle from an empty glass. He'd been here before, back in the cavern at the Well of Ascension. He should have died then and he'd been terrified. This time, oddly, he was not. There was no regret. Just satisfaction.\n\nElend looked up at the Inquisitor. Vin, like a glowing phantom, still hovered above them both. \"Lost?\" Elend whispered. \"We've won, Marsh.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Oh, and how is that?\" Marsh asked, dismissive.\n\nHuman stood at the side of the pit in the center of the cavern room. The pit where Ruin's body had been. The place of victory.\n\nHuman stood, dumbfounded, a group of other koloss stepping up to him, looking equally confused.\n\nThe pit was empty.\n\n\"Atium,\" Elend whispered, tasting blood. \"Where is the atium, Marsh? Where do you think we got the power to fight? You came for that atium? Well it's gone. Tell your master that! You think my men and I expected to kill all of these koloss? There are tens of thousands of them! That wasn't the point at all.\"\n\nElend's smile widened. \"Ruin's body is gone, Marsh. We burned it all away, the others and I. You might be able to kill me, but you'll never get what you came for. And that is why we win.\"\n\nMarsh screamed in anger, demanding the truth, but Elend had spoken it. The deaths of the others meant that they had run out of atium. His men had fought until it was gone, as Elend had commanded, burning away every last bit.\n\nThe body of a god. The power of a god. Elend had held it fora moment. More important, he'd destroyed it. Hopefully, that would keep his people safe.\n\nIt's up to you now, Vin, he thought, still feeling the peace of her touch upon his soul. I've done what I can.\n\nHe smiled at Marsh again, defiantly, as the Inquisitor raised his axe.\n\nThe axe took off Elend's head.\n\nRuin raged and thrashed about, enraged and destructive. Vin only sat quietly, watching Elend's headless body slump back into the pile of blue corpses." }, { "from": "human", "value": "How do you like that!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ruin screamed. I killed him! I Ruined everything you love! I took it from you!\n\nVin floated above Elend's body, looking down. She reached outwith incorporeal fingers, touching his head, remembering how it had felt to use her power to fuel his Allomancy. She didn't know what she had done. Something akin to what Ruin did when it controlled the koloss, perhaps. Only opposite. Liberating. Serene.\n\nElend was dead. She knew that, and knew that there was nothing she could do. That brought pain, true, but not the pain she had expected. I let him go long ago, she thought, stroking his face. At the Well of Ascension. Allomancy brought him back tome fora time.\n\nShe didn't feel the pain or terror that she had known before, when she'd thought him dead. This time, she felt only peace. These last few years had been a blessing-an extension. She'd given Elend up to be his own man, to risk himself as he wished, and perhaps to die. She would always love him. But she would not cease to function because he was gone.\n\nThe opposite, perhaps. Ruin floated directly above her, throwing down insults, telling her how it would kill the others. Sazed. Breeze. Ham. Spook.\n\nSo few left of the original crew, she thought. Kelsier dead so long ago. Dockson and Clubs slaughtered at the Battle of Luthadel. Yeden dead with his soldiers. OreSeur taken at Zane's command. Marsh, fallen to become an Inquisitor. And the others who joined us, now gone as well. Tindwyl, TenSoon, Elend...\n\nDid Ruin think she would let their sacrifices be for nothing? She rose, gathering her power. She forced it against the power of Ruin, as she had the other times. Yet, this time was different. When Ruin pushed back, she didn't retreat. She didn't preserve herself. She drove onward." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The confrontation made her divine body tremble in pain. It was the pain of a cold and hot meeting, the pain of two rocks being smashed together and ground to dust. Their forms undulated and rippled in a tempest of power.\n\nAnd Vin drove on.\n\nPreservation could never destroy you! she thought, almost screaming it against the agony. He could only protect. That's why he needed to create humankind. All along, Ruin, this was part of his plan!\n\nHe didn't give up part of himself, making himself weaker, simply so that he could create intelligent life! He knew he needed something of both Preservation and of Ruin. Something that could both protect and destroy. Something that could destroy to protect.\n\nHe gave up his power at the Well, and into the mists, giving it to us so that we could take it. He always intended this to happen. You think this was your plan? It was his. His all along.\n\nRuin cried out. Still, she drove on.\n\nYou created the thing that can kill you, Ruin, Vin said. And you just made one huge final mistake. You shouldn't have killed Elend.\n\nYou see, he was the only reason I had left to live.\n\nShe didn't shy back, though the conflict of opposites ripped her apart. Ruin screamed in terror as the force of her power completely melded with Ruin's.\n\nHer consciousness-now formed and saturated with Preservation-moved to touch that of Ruin. Neither would yield. And, with a surge of power, Vin bid farewell to the world, then pulled Ruin into the abyss with her.\n\nTheir two minds puffed away, like mist under a hot sun." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Once Vin died, the end came quickly. We were not prepared for it-but even all of the Lord Ruler's planning could not have prepared us for this. How did one prepare for the end of the world itself?\n\nSAZED WATCHED QUIETLY from the mouth of the cavern. Outside, the koloss raged and stomped about, looking confused. Most of the men who had been watching with Sazed had fled. Even most of the soldiers had retreated into the caverns, calling him a fool for waiting. Only General Demoux, who had managed to crawl back to the cavern after his atium ran out, remained, just a few steps into the tunnel. The man was bloody, his arm ending in a tourniquet, his leg crushed. He coughed quietly, waiting for Aslydin to return with more bandages.\n\nOutside, the sun rose into the sky. The heat was incredible, like an oven. Cries of pain echoed from deep within the cavern behind Sazed. Koloss were inside.\n\n\"She'll come,\" Sazed whispered.\n\nHe could see Elend's body. It had fallen back down the pile of koloss corpses. It was stark, bright white and red against the black and blue of the koloss and ash.\n\n\"Vin will come,\" Sazed said insistently.\n\nDemoux looked dazed. Too much blood lost. He slumped back, closing his eyes. Koloss began to move toward the cavern mouth, though they didn't have the direction or frenzy they'd displayed before.\n\n\"The Hero will come!\" Sazed said.\n\nOutside, something appeared, as if from mists, then slumped down in the bodies beside Elend's corpse. It was followed immediately by something else, a second figure, which also fell motionless." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There! Sazed thought, scrambling out of the cavern. He dashed past several koloss. They tried to swing for him, but Sazed wore his metalminds. He felt he should have his copperminds to use in case he needed to record something important. He wore his ten rings, the ones he'd used to fight during the siege of Luthadel, for he knew that he might need them.\n\nHe tapped a bit of steel and dodged the koloss attacks. He moved quickly through the mass of confused-looking koloss, climbing over bodies, moving up to the scrap of white cloak that marked Elend's resting place. His corpse was there, headless.\n\nA small body lay beside his. Sazed fell to his knees, grabbing Vin by the shoulders. Beside her, atop the pile of dead koloss, lay another body. It was that of a man with red hair, one whom Sazed did not recognize, but he ignored it.\n\nFor Vin was not moving.\n\nNo! he thought, checking fora pulse. There was none. Her eyes were closed. She looked peaceful, but very, very dead.\n\n\"This cannot be!\" he yelled, shaking her body again. Several koloss lumbered toward him.\n\nHe glanced upward. The sun was rising. It was getting hard to breathe for the heat. He felt his skin burning. By the time the sun reached its zenith, it would likely be so hot the land would burn.\n\n\"Is this how it ends?\" he screamed toward the sky. \"Your Hero is dead! Ruin's power maybe broken, the koloss maybe lost to him as an army, but the world will still die!\"\n\nThe ash had killed the plants. The sun would burn away anything that remained. There was no food. Sazed blinked out tears, but they dried on his face." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"This is how you leave us?\" he whispered.\n\nAnd then, he felt something. He looked down. Vin's body was smoking slightly. Not from the heat. It seemed to be leaking something... or, no. It was connected to something. The twists of mist he saw, they led to avast white light. He could just barely see it.\n\nHe reached out and touched the mist, and felt an awesome power. A power of stability. To the side, the other corpse-the one he didn't recognize-was also leaking something. A deep black smoke. Sazed reached outwith his other hand, touching the smoke, and felt a different power-more violent. The power of change.\n\nHe knelt, stunned, between the bodies. And, only then, did it start to make sense.\n\nThe prophecies always used the gender-neutral, he thought. So that they could refer to either a manor a woman, we assumed. Or... perhaps because they referred to a Hero who wasn't really either one?\n\nHe stood up. The sun's power overhead felt insignificant compared to the twin-yet opposite-powers that surrounded him.\n\nThe Hero would be rejected of his people, Sazed thought. Yet, he would save them. Not a warrior, though he would fight. Not born a king, but would become one anyway.\n\nHe looked upward again.\n\nIs this what you planned all along?\n\nHe tasted of the power, but drew back, daunted. How could he use such a thing? He was just a man. In the brief glimpse of forces that he touched, he knew that he'd have no hope of using it. He didn't have the training.\n\n\"I can't do this,\" he said through cracked lips, reaching to the sky. \"I don't know how. I cannot make the world as it was-I never saw it. If I take this power, I will do as the Lord Ruler did, and will only make things worse for my trying. I am simply a man.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Koloss cried out in pain from the burning." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The heat was terrible, and around Sazed, trees began to pop and burst into flames. His touch on the twin powers kept him alive, he knew, but he did not embrace them.\n\n\"I am no Hero,\" he whispered, still reaching to the sky.\n\nHis arms twinkled, golden. His copperminds, worn on his forearms, reflected the light of the sun. They had been with him for so long, his companions. His knowledge.\n\nKnowledge....\n\nThe words of the prophecy were very precise, he thought suddenly. They say... they say that the Hero will bear the future of the world on his arms.\n\nNot on his shoulders. Not in his hands. On his arms.\n\nBy the Forgotten Gods!\n\nHe slammed his arms into the twin mists and seized the powers offered to him. He drew them in, feeling them infuse his body, making him burn. His flesh and bones evaporated, but as they did, he tapped his copperminds, dumping their entire contents into his expanding consciousness.\n\nThe copperminds, now empty, dropped with his rings to the pile of blue corpses beside the bodies of Vin, Elend, and Ruin's nameless body. Sazed opened eyes as large as the world itself, drawing in power that latticed all of creation.\n\nThe Hero will have the power to save the world. But he will also have the power to destroy it.\n\nWe never understood. He wouldn't simply bear the power of Preservation. He needed the power of Ruin as well.\n\nThe powers were opposites. Ashe drew them in, they threatened to annihilate each other. And yet, because he was of one mind on how to use them, he could keep them separate. They could touch without destroying each other, if he willed it. For these two powers had been used to create all things. If they fought, they destroyed. If they were used together, they created." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Understanding swelled within him. Over a thousand years, the Keepers had collected the knowledge of mankind and stored it in their copperminds. They had passed it down from Keeper to Keeper, each manor woman carrying the entire bulk of knowledge, so that he or she could pass it on when necessary. Sazed had it all.\n\nAnd, in a moment of transcendence, he understood it all. He saw the patterns, the clues, the secrets. Men had believed and worshipped for as long as they had existed, and within those beliefs, Sazed found the answers he needed. Gems, hidden from Ruin in all the religions of mankind.\n\nThere had been a people called the Bennett. They had considered mapmaking to be a solemn duty; Sazed had once preached their religion to Kelsier himself. From their detailed maps and charts, Sazed discovered how the world had once looked. He used his powers to restore the continents and oceans, the islands and coastlines, the mountains and rivers.\n\nThere had been a people known as the Nelazan. They had worshipped the stars, had called them the Thousand Eyes of their god, Trell, watching them. Sazed remembered well offering the religion to the young Vin while she had sat, captive, undergoing her first haircut with the crew. From the Nelazan, the Keepers had recovered star charts, and had dutifully recorded them-even though scholars had called them useless, since they hadn't been accurate since the days before the Ascension. Yet, from these star charts, and from the patterns and movements of the other planets in the solar system they outlined, Sazed could determine exactly where the world was supposed to sit in orbit. He put the planet back into its old place-not pushing too hard, as the Lord Ruler once had, for he had a frame of reference by which to measure." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There had been a people known as the Canzi who had worshipped death; they had provided detailed notes about the human body. Sazed had offered one of their prayers over the bodies they had found in Vin's old crew hideout, back when Kelsier had still lived. From the Canzi teachings about the body, Sazed determined that the physiology of mankind had changed-either by the Lord Ruler's intention or by simple evolution-to adapt to breathing ash and eating brown plants. Ina wave of power, Sazed restored the bodies of men to the way they had been before, leaving each person the same, yet fixing the problems that living fora thousand years on a dying world had caused. He didn't destroy men, warping and twisting them as the Lord Ruler had when he'd created the kandra, for Sazed had a guide by which to work.\n\nHe learned other things too. Dozens of secrets. One religion worshipped animals, and from it Sazed drew forth pictures, explanations, and references regarding the life that should have lived on the earth. He restored it. From another-Dadradah, the religion he had preached to Clubs before the man died-Sazed learned about colors and hues. It was the last religion Sazed had ever taught, and with its poems about color and nature, he could restore the plants, sky, and landscape to the way they had once been. Every religion had clues in it, for the faiths of men contained the hopes, loves, wishes, and lives of the people who had believed them.\n\nFinally, Sazed took the religion of the Larsta, the religion that Kelsier's wife-Mare-had believed in. Its priests had composed poetry during their times of meditation. From these poems-and from a scrap of paper that Mare had given to Kelsier, who had given it to Vin, who had given it to Sazed-he learned of the beautiful things that the world had once held." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And he restored flowers to the plants that had once borne them.\n\nThe religions in my portfolio weren't useless after all, he thought, the power flowing from him and remaking the world. None of them were. They weren't all true.\n\nBut they all had truth.\n\nSazed hovered over the world, changing things as he felt he must. He cradled the hiding places of mankind, keeping the caverns safe-even if he did move them about-as he reworked the world's tectonics. Finally, he exhaled softly, his work finished. And yet, the power did not evaporate from him, as he had expected it to.\n\nRashek and Vin only touched small pieces of it at the Well of Ascension, he realized. I have something more. Something endless.\n\nRuin and Preservation were dead, and their powers had been joined together. In fact, they belonged together. How had they been split? Someday, perhaps, he would discover the answer to that question.\n\nSomebody would need to watch over the world, care for it, now that its gods were gone. It wasn't until that moment that Sazed understood the term Hero of Ages. Not a Hero that came once in the ages.\n\nBut a Hero who would span the ages. A Hero who would preserve mankind throughout all its lives and times. Neither Preservation nor Ruin, but both.\n\nGod." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Vin was special.\n\nPreservation chose her from a very young age, as I have mentioned. I believe that he was grooming her to take his power. Yet, the mind of Preservation was very weak at that point, reduced only to the fragment that we knew as the mist spirit.\n\nWhat made him choose this girl? Was it because she was a Mistborn? Was it because she had Snapped so early in life, coming to her powers even as she went through the pains of the unusually difficult labor her mother went through to bear her?\n\nVin was unusually talented and strong with Allomancy, even from the beginning. I believe that she must have drawn some of the mist into her when she was still a child, in those brief times when she wasn't wearing the earring. Preservation had mostly gotten her to stop wearing it by the time Kelsier recruited her, though she put it back in fora moment before joining the crew. Then, she'd left it thereat his suggestion.\n\nNobody else could draw upon the mists. I have determined this. Why were they open to Vin and not others? I suspect that she couldn't have taken them all in until after she'd touched the power at the Well of Ascension. It was always meant, I believe, to be something of an attuning force. Something that, once touched, would adjust a person's body to be able to accept the mists.\n\nYet, she did make use of a small crumb of Preservation's power when she defeated the Lord Ruler, a year before she even began hearing the thumping of the power's return to the Well.\n\nThere is much more to this mystery. Perhaps I will tease it out eventually, as my mind grows more and more accustomed to its expanded nature. Perhaps I will determine why I was able to take the powers myself. For now, I only wish to make a simple acknowledgment of the woman who held the power just before me." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Of all of us who touched it, I feel she was the most worthy." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Helping the author, keep the tale going.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, quest\nAuthor: J.R.R. Tolkien\nTitle: The Hobbit\nChapter: 1" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The day grew lighter and warmer as they floated along. After awhile the river rounded a steep shoulder of land that came down upon their left. Under its rocky feet like an inland cliff the deepest stream had flowed lapping and bubbling. Suddenly the cliff fell away. The shores sank. The trees ended. Then Bilbo saw a sight:\n\nThe lands opened wide about him, filled with the waters of the river which broke up and wandered in a hundred winding courses, or halted in marshes and pools dotted with isles on every side; but still a strong water flowed on steadily through the midst. And faraway, its dark head in a torn cloud, there loomed the Mountain! Its nearest neighbours to the North-East and the tumbled land that joined it to them could not be seen. All alone it rose and looked across the marshes to the forest. The Lonely Mountain! Bilbo had come far and through many adventures to see it, and now he did not like the look of it in the least.\n\nAshe listened to the talk of the raftmen and pieced together the scraps of information they let fall, he soon realized that he was very fortunate ever to have seen it at all, even from this distance. Dreary as had been his imprisonment and unpleasant as was his position (to say nothing of the poor dwarves underneath him) still, he had been more lucky than he had guessed. The talk was all of the trade that came and went on the waterways and the growth of the traffic on the river, as the roads out of the East towards Mirkwood vanished or fell into disuse; and of the bickerings of the Lake-men and the Wood-elves about the upkeep of the Forest River and the care of the banks. Those lands had changed much since the days when dwarves dwelt in the Mountain, days which most people now remembered only as a very shadowy tradition. They had changed even in recent years, and since the last news that Gandalf had had of them. Great floods and rains had swollen the waters that flowed east; and there had been an earthquake or two (which some were inclined to attribute to the dragon-alluding to him chiefly with a curse and an ominous nod in the direction of the Mountain). The marshes and bogs had spread wider and wider on either side. Paths had vanished, and many a rider and wanderer too, if they had tried to find the lost ways across. The elf-road through the wood which the dwarves had followed on the advice of Beorn now came to a doubtful and little used end at the eastern edge of the forest; only the river offered any longer a safe way from the skirts of Mirkwood in the North to the mountain-shadowed plains beyond, and the river was guarded by the Wood-elves' king." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So you see Bilbo had come in the end by the only road that was any good. It might have been some comfort to Mr. Baggins shivering on the barrels, if he had known that news of this had reached Gandalf faraway and given him great anxiety, and that he was in fact finishing his other business (which does not come into this tale) and getting ready to come in search of Thorin's company. But Bilbo did not know it.\n\nAll he knew was that the river seemed to goon and on and on forever, and he was hungry, and had a nasty cold in the nose, and did not like the way the Mountain seemed to frown at him and threaten him as it drew ever nearer. After awhile, however, the river took a more southerly course and the Mountain receded again, and at last, late in the day the shores grew rocky, the river gathered all its wandering waters together into a deep and rapid flood, and they swept along at great speed.\n\nThe sun had set when turning with another sweep towards the East the forest-river rushed into the Long Lake. There it had a wide mouth with stony clifflike gates at either side whose feet were piled with shingles. The Long Lake! Bilbo had never imagined that any water that was not the sea could look so big. It was so wide that the opposite shores looked small and far, but it was so long that its northerly end, which pointed towards the Mountain, could not be seen at all. Only from the map did Bilbo know that away up there, where the stars of the Wain were already twinkling, the Running River came down into the lake from Dale and with the Forest River filled with deep waters what must once have been a great deep rocky valley. At the southern end the doubled waters poured out again over high waterfalls and ran away hurriedly to unknown lands. In the still evening air the noise of the falls could be heard like a distant roar." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Not far from the mouth of the Forest River was the strange town he heard the elves speak of in the king's cellars. It was not built on the shore, though there were a few huts and buildings there, but right out on the surface of the lake, protected from the swirl of the entering river by a promontory of rock which formed a calm bay. A great bridge made of wood ran out to whereon huge piles made of forest trees was built a busy wooden town, not a town of elves but of Men, who still dared to dwell hereunder the shadow of the distant dragon-mountain. They still throve on the trade that came up the great river from the South and was carted past the falls to their town; but in the great days of old, when Dale in the North was rich and prosperous, they had been wealthy and powerful, and there had been fleets of boats on the waters, and some were filled with gold and some with warriors in armour, and there had been wars and deeds which were now only a legend. The rotting piles of a greater town could still be seen along the shores when the waters sank in a drought.\n\nBut men remembered little of all that, though some still sang old songs of the dwarf-kings of the Mountain, Thror and Thrain of the race of Durin, and of the coming of the Dragon, and the fall of the lords of Dale. Some sang too that Thror and Thrain would comeback one day and gold would flow in rivers, through the mountain-gates, and all that land would be filled with new song and new laughter. But this pleasant legend did not much affect their daily business.\n\nAs soon as the raft of barrels came insight boats rowed out from the piles of the town, and voices hailed the raft-steerers. Then ropes were cast and oars were pulled, and soon the raft was drawn out of the current of the Forest River and towed away round the high shoulder of rock into the little bay of Lake-town. There it was moored not far from the shoreward head of the great bridge. Soon men would come up from the South and take some of the casks away, and others they would fill with goods they had brought to betaken backup the stream to the Wood-elves' home. In the meanwhile the barrels were left afloat while the elves of the raft and the boatmen went to feast in Lake-town." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They would have been surprised, if they could have seen what happened down by the shore, after they had gone and the shades of night had fallen. First of all a barrel was cut loose by Bilbo and pushed to the shore and opened. Groans came from inside, and out crept a most unhappy dwarf. Wet straw was in his draggled beard; he was so sore and stiff, so bruised and buffeted he could hardly stand or stumble through the shallow water to lie groaning on the shore. He had a famished and a savage look like a dog that has been chained and forgotten in a kennel fora week. It was Thorin, but you could only have told it by his golden chain, and by the colour of his now dirty and tattered sky-blue hood with its tarnished silver tassel. It was sometime before he would be even polite to the hobbit.\n\n\"Well, are you alive or are you dead?\" asked Bilbo quite crossly. Perhaps he had forgotten that he had had at least one good meal more than the dwarves, and also the use of his arms and legs, not to speak of a greater allowance of air. \"Are you still in prison, or are you free? If you want food, and if you want to goon with this silly adventure-it's yours after all and not mine-you had better slap your arms and rub your legs and try and help me get the others out while there is a chance!\"\n\nThorin of course saw the sense of this, so after a few more groans he got up and helped the hobbit as well as he could. In the darkness floundering in the cold water they had a difficult and very nasty job finding which were the right barrels. Knocking outside and calling only discovered about six dwarves that could answer. These were unpacked and helped ashore where they sat or lay muttering and moaning; they were so soaked and bruised and cramped that they could hardly yet realize their release or be properly thankful for it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dwalin and Balin were two of the most unhappy, and it was no good asking them to help. Bifur and Bofur were less knocked about and drier, but they lay down and would do nothing. Fili and Kili, however, who were young (for dwarves) and had also been packed more neatly with plenty of straw into smaller casks, came out more or less smiling, with only a bruise or two and a stiffness that soon wore off.\n\n\"I hope I never smell the smell of apples again!\" said Fili. \"My tub was full of it. To smell apples everlastingly when you can scarcely move and are cold and sick with hunger is maddening. I could eat anything in the wide world now, for hours on end-but not an apple!\"\n\nWith the willing help of Fili and Kili, Thorin and Bilbo at last discovered the remainder of the company and got them out. Poor fat Bombur was asleep or senseless; Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin and Gloin were waterlogged and seemed only half alive; they all had to be carried one by one and laid helpless on the shore.\n\n\"Well! Here we are!\" said Thorin. \"And I suppose we ought to thank our stars and Mr. Baggins. I am sure he has aright to expect it, though I wish he could have arranged a more comfortable journey. Still-all very much at your service once more, Mr. Baggins. No doubt we shall feel properly grateful, when we are fed and recovered. In the meanwhile what next?\"\n\n\"I suggest Lake-town,\" said Bilbo. \"What else is there?\"\n\nNothing else could, of course, be suggested; so leaving the others Thorin and Fili and Kili and the hobbit went along the shore to the great bridge. There were guards at the head of it, but they were not keeping very careful watch, for it was so long since there had been any real need. Except for occasional squabbles about river-tolls they were friends with the Wood-elves. Other folk were faraway; and some of the younger people in the town openly doubted the existence of any dragon in the mountain, and laughed at the greybeards and gammers who said that they had seen him flying in the sky in their young days. That being so it is not surprising that the guards were drinking and laughing by afire in their hut, and did not hear the noise of the unpacking of the dwarves or the footsteps of the four scouts. Their astonishment was enormous when Thorin Oakenshield stepped in through the door." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Who are you and what do you want?\" they shouted leaping to their feet and groping for weapons.\n\n\"Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror King under the Mountain!\" said the dwarf in aloud voice, and he looked it, in spite of his torn clothes and draggled hood. The gold gleamed on his neck and waist; his eyes were dark and deep. \"I have comeback. I wish to seethe Master of your town!\"\n\nThen there was tremendous excitement. Some of the more foolish ran out of the hut as if they expected the Mountain to go golden in the night and all the waters of the lake turn yellow right away. The captain of the guard came forward.\n\n\"And who are these?\" he asked, pointing to Fili and Kili and Bilbo.\n\n\"The sons of my father's daughter,\" answered Thorin, \"Fili and Kili of the race of Durin, and Mr. Baggins who has travelled with us out of the West.\"\n\n\"If you come in peace lay down your arms!\" said the captain.\n\n\"We have none,\" said Thorin, and it was true enough: their knives had been taken from them by the wood-elves, and the great sword Orcrist too. Bilbo had his short sword, hidden as usual, but he said nothing about that. \"We have no need of weapons, who return at last to our own as spoken of old. Nor could we fight against so many. Take us to your master!\"\n\n\"He is at feast,\" said the captain.\n\n\"Then all the more reason for taking us to him,\" burst in Fili, who was getting impatient at these solemnities. \"We are worn and famished after our long road and we have sick comrades. Now make haste and let us have no more words, or your master may have something to say to you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Follow me then,\" said the captain, and with six men about them he led them over the bridge through the gates and into the market-place of the town." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This was a wide circle of quiet water surrounded by the tall piles on which were built the greater houses, and by long wooden quays with many steps and ladders going down to the surface of the lake. From one great hall shone many lights and there came the sound of many voices. They passed its doors and stood blinking in the light looking at long tables filled with folk.\n\n\"I am Thorin son of Thrain son of Thror King under the Mountain! I return!\" cried Thorin in aloud voice from the door, before the captain could say anything.\n\nAll leaped to their feet. The Master of the town sprang from his great chair. But none rose in greater surprise than the raft-men of the elves who were sitting at the lower end of the hall. Pressing forward before the Master's table they cried:\n\n\"These are prisoners of our king that have escaped, wandering vagabond dwarves that could not give any good account of themselves, sneaking through the woods and molesting our people!\"\n\n\"Is this true?\" asked the Master. As a matter of fact he thought it far more likely than the return of the King under the Mountain, if any such person had ever existed.\n\n\"It is true that we were wrongfully waylaid by the Elvenking and imprisoned without cause as we journeyed back to our own land,\" answered Thorin. \"But lock nor bar may hinder the homecoming spoken of old. Nor is this town in the Wood-elves' realm. I speak to the Master of the town of the Men of the Lake, not to the raft-men of the king.\"\n\nThen the Master hesitated and looked from one to the other. The Elvenking was very powerful in those parts and the Master wished for no enmity with him, nor did he think much of old songs, giving his mind to trade and tolls, to cargoes and gold, to which habit he owed his position. Others were of different mind, however, and quickly the matter was settled without him. The news had spread from the doors of the hall like fire through all the town. People were shouting inside the hall and outside it. The quays were thronged with hurrying feet. Some began to sing snatches of old songs concerning the return of the King under the Mountain; that it was Thror's grandson not Thror himself that had comeback did not bother them at all. Others took up the song and it rolled loud and high over the lake." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The King beneath the mountains,\n\nThe King of carven stone,\n\nThe lord of silver fountains\n\nShall come into his own!\n\nHis crown shall be upholden,\n\nHis harp shall be restrung,\n\nHis halls shall echo golden\n\nTo songs of yore re-sung.\n\nThe woods shall wave on mountains\n\nAnd grass beneath the sun;\n\nHis wealth shall flow in fountains\n\nAnd the rivers golden run.\n\nThe streams shall run in gladness,\n\nThe lakes shall shine and burn,\n\nAll sorrow fail and sadness\n\nAt the Mountain-king's return!\n\nSo they sang, or very like that, only there was a great deal more of it, and there was much shouting as well as the music of harps and of fiddles mixed up with it. Indeed such excitement had not been known in the town in the memory of the oldest grandfather. The Wood-elves themselves began to wonder greatly and even to be afraid. They did not know of course how Thorin had escaped, and they began to think their king might have made a serious mistake. As for the Master he saw there was nothing else for it but to obey the general clamour, for the moment at any rate, and to pretend to believe that Thorin was what he said. So he gave up to him his own great chair and set Fili and Kili beside him in places of honour. Even Bilbo was given a seat at the high table, and no explanation of where he came in-no songs had alluded to him even in the obscurest way-was asked for in the general bustle.\n\nSoon afterwards the other dwarves were brought into the town amid scenes of astonishing enthusiasm. They were all doctored and fed and housed and pampered in the most delightful and satisfactory fashion. A large house was given up to Thorin and his company; boats and rowers were put at their service; and crowds sat outside and sang songs all day, or cheered if any dwarf showed so much as his nose." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Some of the songs were old ones; but some of them were quite new and spoke confidently of the sudden death of the dragon and of cargoes of rich presents coming down the river to Lake-town. These were inspired largely by the Master and they did not particularly please the dwarves, but in the meantime they were well contented and they quickly grew fat and strong again. Indeed within a week they were quite recovered, fitted out in fine cloth of their proper colours, with beards combed and trimmed, and proud steps. Thorin looked and walked as if his kingdom was already regained and Smaug chopped up into little pieces.\n\nThen, as he had said, the dwarves' good feeling towards the little hobbit grew stronger everyday. There were no more groans or grumbles. They drank his health, and they patted him on the back, and they made a great fuss of him; which was just as well, for he was not feeling particularly cheerful. He had not forgotten the look of the Mountain, nor the thought of the dragon, and he had besides a shocking cold. For three days he sneezed and coughed, and he could not go out, and even after that his speeches at banquets were limited to'Thag you very buch.\"\n\nIn the meanwhile the Wood-elves had gone backup the Forest River with their cargoes, and there was great excitement in the king's palace. I have never heard what happened to the chief of the guards and the butler. Nothing of course was ever said about keys or barrels while the dwarves stayed in Lake-town, and Bilbo was careful never to become invisible. Still, I daresay, more was guessed than was known, though doubtless Mr. Baggins remained a bit of a mystery. In any case the king knew now the dwarves\" errand, or thought he did, and he said to himself:" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Very well!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We'll see! No treasure will comeback through Mirkwood without my having something to say in the matter. But I expect they will all come to a bad end, and serve them right!\" Heat any rate did not believe in dwarves fighting and killing dragons like Smaug, and he strongly suspected attempted burglary or something like it-which shows he was a wise elf and wiser than the men of the town, though not quite right, as we shall see in the end. He sent out his spies about the shores of the lake and as far northward towards the Mountain as they would go, and waited.\n\nAt the end of a fortnight Thorin began to think of departure. While the enthusiasm still lasted in the town was the time to get help. It would not do to let everything cool down with delay. So he spoke to the Master and his councillors and said that soon he and his company must goon towards the Mountain.\n\nThen for the first time the Master was surprised and a little frightened; and he wondered if Thorin was after all really a descendant of the old kings. He had never thought that the dwarves would actually dare to approach Smaug, but believed they were frauds who would sooner or later be discovered and be turned out. He was wrong. Thorin, of course, was really the grandson of the King under the Mountain, and there is no knowing what a dwarf will not dare and do for revenge or the recovery of his own.\n\nBut the Master was not sorry at all to let them go. They were expensive to keep, and their arrival had turned things into along holiday in which business was at a standstill. \"Let them go and bother Smaug, and see how he welcomes them!\" he thought. \"Certainly, O Thorin Thrain's son Thror's son!\" was what he said. \"You must claim your own. The houris at hand, spoken of old. What help we can offer shall be yours, and we trust to your gratitude when your kingdom is regained.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So one day, although autumn was now getting far on, and winds were cold, and leaves were falling fast, three large boats left Lake-town, laden with rowers, dwarves, Mr. Baggins, and many provisions. Horses and ponies had been sent round by circuitous paths to meet them at their appointed landing-place. The Master and his councillors bade them farewell from the great steps of the town-hall that went down to the lake. People sang on the quays and out of windows. The white oars dipped and splashed, and off they went north up the lake on the last stage of their long journey. The only person thoroughly unhappy was Bilbo." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In two days going they rowed right up the Long Lake and passed out into the River Running, and now they could all seethe Lonely Mountain towering grim and tall before them. The stream was strong and their going slow. At the end of the third day, some miles up the river, they drew into the left or western bank and disembarked. Here they were joined by the horses with other provisions and necessaries and the ponies for their own use that had been sent to meet them. They packed what they could on the ponies and the rest was made into a store under a tent, but none of the men of the town would stay with them even for the night so near the shadow of the Mountain.\n\n\"Not at any rate until the songs have come true!\" said they. It was easier to believe in the Dragon and less easy to believe in Thorin in these wild parts. Indeed their stores had no need of any guard, for all the land was desolate and empty. So their escort left them, making off swiftly down the river and the shoreward paths, although the night was already drawing on.\n\nThey spent a cold and lonely night and their spirits fell. The next day they set out again. Balin and Bilbo rode behind, each leading another pony heavily laden beside him; the others were someway ahead picking out a slow road, for there were no paths. They made north-west, slanting away from the River Running, and drawing ever nearer and nearer to a great spur of the Mountain that was flung out southwards towards them.\n\nIt was a weary journey, and a quiet and stealthy one. There was no laughter or song or sound of harps, and the pride and hopes which had stirred in their hearts at the singing of old songs by the lake died away to a plodding gloom. They knew that they were drawing near to the end of their journey, and that it might be a very horrible end. The land about them grew bleak and barren, though once, as Thorin told them, it had been green and fair. There was little grass, and before long there was neither bush nor tree, and only broken and blackened stumps to speak of ones long vanished. They were come to the Desolation of the Dragon, and they were come at the waning of the year." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They reached the skirts of the Mountain all the same without meeting any danger or any sign of the Dragon other than the wilderness he had made about his lair. The Mountain lay dark and silent before them and ever higher above them. They made their first camp on the western side of the great southern spur, which ended in a height called Ravenhill. On this there had been an old watch-post; but they dared not climb it yet, it was too exposed.\n\nBefore setting out to search the western spurs of the Mountain for the hidden door, on which all their hopes rested, Thorin sent out a scouting expedition to spy out the land to the South where the Front\n\nGate stood. For this purpose he chose Balin and Fili and Kili, and with them went Bilbo. They marched under the grey and silent cliffs to the feet of Ravenhill. There the river, after winding a wide loop over the valley of Dale, turned from the Mountain on its road to the Lake, flowing swift and noisily. Its bank was bare and rocky, tall and steep above the stream; and gazing out from it over the narrow water, foaming and splashing among many boulders, they could see in the wide valley shadowed by the Mountain's arms the grey ruins of ancient houses, towers, and walls.\n\n\"There lies all that is left of Dale,\" said Balin. \"The mountain's sides were green with woods and all the sheltered valley rich and pleasant in the days when the bells rang in that town.\" He looked both sad and grim as he said this: he had been one of Thorin's companions on the day the Dragon came.\n\nThey did not dare to follow the river much further towards the Gate; but they went on beyond the end of the southern spur, until lying hidden behind a rock they could lookout and seethe dark cavernous opening in a great cliff-wall between the arms of the Mountain. Out of it the waters of the Running River sprang; and out of it too there came a steam and a dark smoke. Nothing moved in the waste, save the vapour and the water, and every now and again a black and ominous crow. The only sound was the sound of the stony water, and every now and again the harsh croak of a bird. Balin shuddered." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Let us return!\" he said. \"We can do no good here! And I don't like these dark birds, they look like spies of evil.\"\n\nThe Front Gate.\n\n\"The dragon is still alive and in the halls under the Mountain then-or I imagine so from the smoke,\" said the hobbit.\n\n\"That does not prove it,\" said Balin, \"though I don't doubt you are right. But he might begone away sometime, or he might belying out on the mountain-side keeping watch, and still I expect smokes and steams would come out of the gates: all the halls within must be filled with his foul reek.\"\n\nWith such gloomy thoughts, followed ever by croaking crows above them, they made their weary way back to the camp. Only in June they had been guests in the fair house of Elrond, and though autumn was now crawling towards winter that pleasant time now seemed years ago. They were alone in the perilous waste without hope of further help. They were at the end of their journey, but as far as ever, it seemed, from the end of their quest. None of them had much spirit left.\n\nNow strange to say Mr. Baggins had more than the others. He would often borrow Thorin's map and gaze at it, pondering over the runes and the message of the moon-letters Elrond had read. It was he that made the dwarves begin the dangerous search on the western slopes for the secret door. They moved their camp then to along valley, narrower than the great dale in the South where the Gates of the river stood, and walled with lower spurs of the Mountain. Two of these here thrust forward west from the main mass in long steep-sided ridges that fell ever downwards towards the plain. On this western side there were fewer signs of the dragon's marauding feet, and there was some grass for their ponies. From this western camp, shadowed all day by cliff and wall until the sun began to sink towards the forest, day by day they toiled in parties searching for paths up the mountain-side. If the map was true, somewhere high above the cliff at the valley's head must stand the secret door. Day by day they came back to their camp without success." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But at last unexpectedly they found what they were seeking. Fili and Kili and the hobbit went back one day down the valley and scrambled among the tumbled rocks at its southern corner. About midday, creeping behind a great stone that stood alone like a pillar, Bilbo came on what looked like rough steps going upwards. Following these excitedly he and the dwarves found traces of a narrow track, often lost, often rediscovered, that wandered onto the top of the southern ridge and brought them at last to a still narrower ledge, which turned north across the face of the Mountain. Looking down they saw that they were at the top of the cliff at the valley's head and were gazing down onto their own camp below. Silently, clinging to the rocky wall on their right, they went in single file along the ledge, till the wall opened and they turned into a little steep-walled bay, grassy-floored, still and quiet. Its entrance which they had found could not be seen from below because of the overhang of the cliff, nor from further off because it was so small that it looked like a dark crack and no more. It was not a cave and was open to the sky above; but at its inner end a flat wall rose up that in the lower part, close to the ground, was as smooth and upright as masons\" work, but without a joint or crevice to be seen. No sign was thereof post or lintel or threshold, nor any sign of bar or bolt or key-hole; yet they did not doubt that they had found the door at last.\n\nThey beat on it, they thrust and pushed at it, they implored it to move, they spoke fragments of broken spells of opening, and nothing stirred. At last tired out they rested on the grass at its feet, and then at evening began their long climb down." }, { "from": "human", "value": "There was excitement in the camp that night." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the morning they prepared to move once more. Only Bofur and Bombur were left behind to guard the ponies and such stores as they had brought with them from the river. The others went down the valley and up the newly found path, and so to the narrow ledge. Along this they could carry no bundles or packs, so narrow and breathless was it, with a fall of a hundred and fifty feet beside them onto sharp rocks below; but each of them took a good coil of rope wound tight about his waist, and so at last without mishap they reached the little grassy bay.\n\nThere they made their third camp, hauling up what they needed from below with their ropes. Down the same way they were able occasionally to lower one of the more active dwarves, such as Kili, to exchange such news as there was, or to take a share in the guard below, while Bofur was hauled up to the higher camp. Bombur would not come up either the rope or the path.\n\n\"I am too fat for such fly-walks,\" he said. \"I should turn dizzy and tread on my beard, and then you would be thirteen again. And the knotted ropes are too slender for my weight.\" Luckily for him that was not true, as you will see.\n\nIn the meanwhile some of them explored the ledge beyond the opening and found a path that led higher and higher onto the mountain; but they did not dare to venture very far that way, nor was there much use in it. Out up there a silence reigned, broken by no bird or sound except that of the wind in the crannies of stone. They spoke low and never called or sang, for danger brooded in every rock. The others who were busy with the secret of the door had no more success. They were too eager to trouble about the runes or the moon-letters, but tried without resting to discover where exactly in the smooth face of the rock the door was hidden. They had brought picks and tools of many sorts from Lake-town, and at first they tried to use these. But when they struck the stone the handles splintered and jarred their arms cruelly, and the steel heads broke or bent like lead. Mining work, they saw clearly, was no good against the magic that had shut this door; and they grew terrified, too, of the echoing noise." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bilbo found sitting on the doorstep lonesome and wearisome-there was not a doorstep, of course, really, but they used to call the little grassy space between the wall and the opening the'doorstep\" in fun, remembering Bilbo's words long ago at the unexpected party in his hobbit-hole, when he said they could sit on the doorstep till they thought of something. And sit and think they did, or wandered aimlessly about, and glummer and glummer they became.\n\nTheir spirits had risen a little at the discovery of the path, but now they sank into their boots; and yet they would not give it up and go away. The hobbit was no longer much brighter than the dwarves. He would do nothing but sit with his back to the rock-face and stare away west through the opening, over the cliff, over the wide lands to the black wall of Mirkwood, and to the distances beyond, in which he sometimes thought he could catch glimpses of the Misty Mountains small and far. If the dwarves asked him what he was doing he answered:\n\n\"You said sitting on the doorstep and thinking would be my job, not to mention getting inside, so I am sitting and thinking.\" But I am afraid he was not thinking much of the job, but of what lay beyond the blue distance, the quiet Western Land and the Hill and his hobbit-hole under it.\n\nA large grey stone lay in the centre of the grass and he stared moodily at it or watched the great snails. They seemed to love the little shut-in bay with its walls of cool rock, and there were many of them of huge size crawling slowly and stickily along its sides.\n\n\"Tomorrow begins the last week of autumn,\" said Thorin one day." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"And winter comes after autumn,\" said Bifur." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And next year after that,\" said Dwalin, \"and our beards will grow till they hang down the cliff to the valley before anything happens here. What is our burglar doing for us? Since he has got an invisible ring, and ought to be a specially excellent performer now, I am beginning to think he might go through the Front Gate and spy things out a bit!\"\n\nBilbo heard this-the dwarves were on the rocks just above the enclosure where he was sitting-and'Good Gracious!\" he thought, \"so that is what they are beginning to think, is it? It is always poor me that has to get them out of their difficulties, at least since the wizard left. Whatever am I going to do? I might have known that something dreadful would happen tome in the end. I don't think I could bear to seethe unhappy valley of Dale again, and as for that steaming gate! ! !\"\n\nThat night he was very miserable and hardly slept. Next day the dwarves all went wandering off in various directions; some were exercising the ponies down below, some were roving about the mountain-side. All day Bilbo sat gloomily in the grassy bay gazing at the stone, or out west through the narrow opening. He had a queer feeling that he was waiting for something. \"Perhaps the wizard will suddenly comeback today,\" he thought.\n\nIf he lifted his head he could see a glimpse of the distant forest. As the sun turned west there was agleam of yellow upon its far roof, as if the light caught the last pale leaves. Soon he saw the orange ball of the sun sinking towards the level of his eyes. He went to the opening and there pale and faint was a thin new moon above the rim of Earth.\n\nAt that very moment he heard a sharp crack behind him. Thereon the grey stone in the grass was an enormous thrush, nearly coal black, its pale yellow breast freckled with dark spots. Crack! It had caught a snail and was knocking it on the stone. Crack! Crack!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Suddenly Bilbo understood." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Forgetting all danger he stood on the ledge and hailed the dwarves, shouting and waving. Those that were nearest came tumbling over the rocks and as fast as they could along the ledge to him, wondering what on earth was the matter; the others shouted to be hauled up the ropes (except Bombur, of course: he was asleep).\n\nQuickly Bilbo explained. They all fell silent: the hobbit standing by the grey stone, and the dwarves with wagging beards watching impatiently. The sun sank lower and lower, and their hopes fell. It sank into a belt of reddened cloud and disappeared. The dwarves groaned, but still Bilbo stood almost without moving. The little moon was dipping to the horizon. Evening was coming on. Then suddenly when their hope was lowest a red ray of the sun escaped like a finger through a rent in the cloud. Agleam of light came straight through the opening into the bay and fell on the smooth rock-face. The old thrush, who had been watching from a high perch with beady eyes and head cocked on one side, gave a sudden trill. There was aloud crack. A flake of rock split from the wall and fell. A hole appeared suddenly about three feet from the ground.\n\nQuickly, trembling lest the chance should fade, the dwarves rushed to the rock and pushed-in vain.\n\n\"The key! The key!\" cried Bilbo. \"Where is Thorin?\"\n\nThorin hurried up.\n\n\"The key!\" shouted Bilbo. \"The key that went with the map! Try it now while there is still time!\"\n\nThen Thorin stepped up and drew the key on its chain from round his neck. He put it to the hole. It fitted and it turned! Snap! The gleam went out, the sun sank, the moon was gone, and evening sprang into the sky." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now they all pushed together, and slowly apart of the rock-wall gave way. Long straight cracks appeared and widened. A door five feet high and three broad was outlined, and slowly without a sound swung inwards. It seemed as if darkness flowed out like a vapour from the hole in the mountain-side, and deep darkness in which nothing could be seen lay before their eyes, a yawning mouth leading in and down." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fora longtime the dwarves stood in the dark before the door and debated, until at last Thorin spoke:\n\n\"Now is the time for our esteemed Mr. Baggins, who has proved himself a good companion on our long road, and a hobbit full of courage and resource far exceeding his size, and if I may say so possessed of good luck far exceeding the usual allowance-now is the time for him to perform the service for which he was included in our Company; now is the time for him to earn his Reward.\"\n\nYou are familiar with Thorin's style on important occasions, so I will not give you anymore of it, though he went on a good deal longer than this. It certainly was an important occasion, but Bilbo felt impatient. By now he was quite familiar with Thorin too, and he knew what he was driving at.\n\n\"If you mean you think it is my job to go into the secret passage first, O Thorin Thrain's son Oakenshield, may your beard grow ever longer,\" he said crossly, \"say so at once and have done! I might refuse. I have got you out of two messes already, which were hardly in the original bargain, so that I am, I think, already owed some reward. But'third time pays for all'as my father used to say, and somehow I don't think I shall refuse. Perhaps I have begun to trust my luck more than I used to in the old days\"-he meant last spring before he left his own house, but it seemed centuries ago-\"but anyway I think I will go and have a peep at once and get it over. Now who is coming with me?\"\n\nHe did not expect a chorus of volunteers, so he was not disappointed. Fili and Kili looked uncomfortable and stood on one leg, but the others made no pretence of offering-except old Balin, the lookout man, who was rather fond of the hobbit. He said he would come inside at least and perhaps a bit of the way too, ready to call for help if necessary." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The most that can be said for the dwarves is this: they intended to pay Bilbo really handsomely for his services; they had brought him to do a nasty job for them, and they did not mind the poor little fellow doing it if he would; but they would all have done their best to get him out of trouble, if he got into it, as they did in the case of the trolls at the beginning of their adventures before they had any particular reasons for being grateful to him. There it is: dwarves are not heroes, but calculating folk with a great idea of the value of money; some are tricky and treacherous and pretty bad lots; some are not, but are decent enough people like Thorin and Company, if you don't expect too much.\n\nThe stars were coming out behind him in a pale sky barred with black when the hobbit crept through the enchanted door and stole into the Mountain. It was far easier going than he expected. This was no goblin entrance, or rough wood-elves' cave. It was a passage made by dwarves, at the height of their wealth and skill: straight as a ruler, smooth-floored and smooth-sided, going with a gentle never-varying slope direct-to some distant end in the blackness below.\n\nAfter awhile Balin bade Bilbo'Good luck!\" and stopped where he could still seethe faint outline of the door, and by a trick of the echoes of the tunnel hear the rustle of the whispering voices of the others just outside. Then the hobbit slipped on his ring, and warned by the echoes to take more than hobbit's care to make no sound, he crept noiselessly down, down, down into the dark. He was trembling with fear, but his little face was set and grim. Already he was a very different hobbit from the one that had run out without a pocket-handkerchief from Bag-End long ago. He had not had a pocket-handkerchief forages. He loosened his dagger in its sheath, tightened his belt, and went on." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Now you are in for it at last, Bilbo Baggins,\" he said to himself. \"You went and put your foot right in it that night of the party, and now you have got to pull it out and pay for it! Dear me, what a fool I was and am!\" said the least Tookish part of him. \"I have absolutely no use for dragon-guarded treasures, and the whole lot could stay here forever, if only I could wake up and find this beastly tunnel was my own front-hall at home!\"\n\nHe did not wake up of course, but went still on and on, till all sign of the door behind had faded away. He was altogether alone. Soon he thought it was beginning to feel warm. \"Is that a kind of aglow I seem to see coming right ahead down there?\" he thought.\n\nIt was. Ashe went forward it grew and grew, till there was no doubt about it. It was a red light steadily getting redder and redder. Also it was now undoubtedly hot in the tunnel. Wisps of vapour floated up and past him and he began to sweat. A sound, too, began to throb in his ears, a sort of bubbling like the noise of a large pot galloping on the fire, mixed with a rumble as of a gigantic tom-cat purring. This grew to the unmistakable gurgling noise of some vast animal snoring in its sleep down therein the red glow in front of him.\n\nIt was at this point that Bilbo stopped. Going on from there was the bravest thing he ever did. The tremendous things that happened afterwards were as nothing compared to it. He fought the real battle in the tunnel alone, before he ever saw the vast danger that lay in wait. At any rate after a short halt goon he did; and you can picture him coming to the end of the tunnel, an opening of much the same size and shape as the door above. Through it peeps the hobbit's little head. Before him lies the great bottom-most cellar or dungeon-hall of the ancient dwarves right at the Mountain's root. It is almost dark so that its vastness can only be dimly guessed, but rising from the nearside of the rocky floor there is a great glow. The glow of Smaug!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There he lay, avast red-golden dragon, fast asleep; a thrumming came from his jaws and nostrils, and wisps of smoke, but his fires were low in slumber. Beneath him, under all his limbs and his huge coiled tail, and about him on all sides stretching away across the unseen floors, lay countless piles of precious things, gold wrought and unwrought, gems and jewels, and silver red-stained in the ruddy light.\n\nSmaug lay, with wings folded like an immeasurable bat, turned partly on one side, so that the hobbit could see his underparts and his long pale belly crusted with gems and fragments of gold from his long lying on his costly bed. Behind him where the walls were nearest could dimly be seen coats of mail, helms and axes, swords and spears hanging; and therein rows stood great jars and vessels filled with a wealth that could not be guessed.\n\nTo say that Bilbo's breath was taken away is no description at all. There are no words left to express his staggerment, since Men changed the language that they learned of elves in the days when all the world was wonderful. Bilbo had heard tell and sing of dragon-hoards before, but the splendour, the lust, the glory of such treasure had never yet come home to him. His heart was filled and pierced with enchantment and with the desire of dwarves; and he gazed motionless, almost forgetting the frightful guardian, at the gold beyond price and count.\n\nHe gazed for what seemed an age, before drawn almost against his will, he stole from the shadow of the doorway, across the floor to the nearest edge of the mounds of treasure. Above him the sleeping dragon lay, a dire menace even in his sleep. He grasped a great two-handled cup, as heavy as he could carry, and cast one fearful eye upwards. Smaug stirred awing, opened a claw, the rumble of his snoring changed its note." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Then Bilbo fled." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But the dragon did not wake-not yet-but shifted into other dreams of greed and violence, lying therein his stolen hall while the little hobbit toiled backup the long tunnel. His heart was beating and a more fevered shaking was in his legs than when he was going down, but still he clutched the cup, and his chief thought was: \"I've done it! This will show them.\"More like a grocer than a burglar'indeed! Well, we'll hear no more of that.\"\n\nNor did he. Balin was overjoyed to seethe hobbit again, and as delighted as he was surprised. He picked Bilbo up and carried him out into the open air. It was midnight and clouds had covered the stars, but Bilbo lay with his eyes shut, gasping and taking pleasure in the feel of the fresh air again, and hardly noticing the excitement of the dwarves, or how they praised him and patted him on the back and put themselves and all their families for generations to come at his service.\n\nThe dwarves were still passing the cup from hand to hand and talking delightedly of the recovery of their treasure, when suddenly avast rumbling woke in the mountain underneath as if it was an old volcano that had made up its mind to start eruptions once again. The door behind them was pulled nearly to, and blocked from closing with a stone, but up the long tunnel came the dreadful echoes, from far down in the depths, of a bellowing and a trampling that made the ground beneath them tremble.\n\nThen the dwarves forgot their joy and their confident boasts of a moment before and cowered down in fright. Smaug was still to be reckoned with. It does not do to leave alive dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him. Dragons may not have much real use for all their wealth, but they know it to an ounce as a rule, especially after long possession; and Smaug was no exception. He had passed from an uneasy dream (in which a warrior, altogether insignificant in size but provided with a bitter sword and great courage, figured most unpleasantly) to a doze, and from a doze to wide waking. There was a breath of strange air in his cave. Could there be a draught from that little hole? He had never felt quite happy about it, though it was so small, and now he glared at it in suspicion and wondered why he had never blocked it up. Of late he had half fancied he had caught the dim echoes of a knocking sound from far above that came down through it to his lair. He stirred and stretched forth his neck to sniff. Then he missed the cup!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Thieves! Fire! Murder! Such a thing had not happened since first he came to the Mountain! His rage passes description-the sort of rage that is only seen when rich folk that have more than they can enjoy suddenly lose something that they have long had but have never before used or wanted. His fire belched forth, the hall smoked, he shook the mountain-roots. He thrust his head in vain at the little hole, and then coiling his length together, roaring like thunder underground, he sped from his deep lair through its great door, out into the huge passages of the mountain-palace and up towards the Front Gate.\n\nTo hunt the whole mountain till he had caught the thief and had torn and trampled him was his one thought. He issued from the Gate, the waters rose in fierce whistling steam, and up he soared blazing into the air and settled on the mountain-top in a spout of green and scarlet flame. The dwarves heard the awful rumour of his flight, and they crouched against the walls of the grassy terrace cringing under boulders, hoping somehow to escape the frightful eyes of the hunting dragon.\n\nThere they would have all been killed, if it had not been for Bilbo once again. \"Quick! Quick!\" he gasped. \"The door! The tunnel! It's no good here.\"\n\nRoused by these words they were just about to creep inside the tunnel when Bifur gave a cry: \"My cousins! Bombur and Bofur-we have forgotten them, they are down in the valley!\"\n\n\"They will be slain, and all our ponies too, and all our stores lost,\" moaned the others. \"We can do nothing.\"\n\n\"Nonsense!\" said Thorin, recovering his dignity. \"We cannot leave them. Get inside Mr. Baggins and Balin, and you two Fili and Kili-the dragon shan't have all of us. Now you others, where are the ropes? Be quick!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Those were perhaps the worst moments they had been through yet. The horrible sounds of Smaug's anger were echoing in the stony hollows far above; at any moment he might come blazing down or fly whirling round and find them there, near the perilous cliff's edge hauling madly on the ropes. Up came Bofur, and still all was safe. Up came Bombur, puffing and blowing while the ropes creaked, and still all was safe. Up came some tools and bundles of stores, and then danger was upon them.\n\nA whirring noise was heard. A red light touched the points of standing rocks. The dragon came.\n\nThey had barely time to fly back to the tunnel, pulling and dragging in their bundles, when Smaug came hurtling from the North, licking the mountain-sides with flame, beating his great wings with a noise like a roaring wind. His hot breath shrivelled the grass before the door, and drove in through the crack they had left and scorched them as they lay hid. Flickering fires leaped up and black rock-shadows danced. Then darkness fellas he passed again. The ponies screamed with terror, burst their ropes and galloped wildly off. The dragon swooped and turned to pursue them, and was gone.\n\n\"That'll be the end of our poor beasts!\" said Thorin. \"Nothing can escape Smaug once he sees it. Here we are and here we shall have to stay, unless anyone fancies tramping the long open miles back to the river with Smaug on the watch!\"\n\nIt was not a pleasant thought! They crept further down the tunnel, and there they lay and shivered though it was warm and stuffy, until dawn came pale through the crack of the door. Every now and again through the night they could hear the roar of the flying dragon grow and then pass and fade, as he hunted round and round the mountain-sides." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He guessed from the ponies, and from the traces of the camps he had discovered, that men had come up from the river and the lake and had scaled the mountain-side from the valley where the ponies had been standing; but the door withstood his searching eye, and the little high-walled bay had kept out his fiercest flames." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Long he had hunted in vain till the dawn chilled his wrath and he went back to his golden couch to sleep-and to gather new strength. He would not forget or forgive the theft, not if a thousand years turned him to smouldering stone, but he could afford to wait. Slow and silent he crept back to his lair and half closed his eyes.\n\nWhen morning came the terror of the dwarves grew less. They realized that dangers of this kind were inevitable in dealing with such a guardian, and that it was no good giving up their quest yet. Nor could they getaway just now, as Thorin had pointed out. Their ponies were lost or killed, and they would have to wait sometime before Smaug relaxed his watch sufficiently for them to dare the long way on foot. Luckily they had saved enough of their stores to last them still for sometime.\n\nThey debated long on what was to be done, but they could think of noway of getting rid of Smaug-which had always been a weak point in their plans, as Bilbo felt inclined to point out. Then as is the nature of folk that are thoroughly perplexed, they began to grumble at the hobbit, blaming him for what had at first so pleased them: for bringing away a cup and stirring up Smaug's wrath so soon.\n\n\"What else do you suppose a burglar is to do?\" asked Bilbo angrily. \"I was not engaged to kill dragons, that is warrior's work, but to steal treasure. I made the best beginning I could. Did you expect me to trot back with the whole hoard of Thror on my back? If there is any grumbling to be done, I think I might have a say. You ought to have brought five hundred burglars not one. I am sure it reflects great credit on your grandfather, but you cannot pretend that you ever made the vast extent of his wealth clear tome. I should want hundreds of years to bring it all up, if I was fifty times as big, and Smaug as tame as a rabbit.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "After that of course the dwarves begged his pardon." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What then do you propose we should do, Mr. Baggins?\" asked Thorin politely.\n\n\"I have no idea at the moment-if you mean about removing the treasure. That obviously depends entirely on some new turn of luck and the getting rid of Smaug. Getting rid of dragons is not at all in my line, but I will do my best to think about it. Personally I have no hopes at all, and wish I was safe back at home.\"\n\n\"Never mind that for the moment! What are we to do now, to-day?\"\n\n\"Well, if you really want my advice, I should say we can do nothing but stay where we are. By day we can no doubt creep out safely enough to take the air. Perhaps before long one or two could be chosen to go back to the store by the river and replenish our supplies. But in the meanwhile everyone ought to be well inside the tunnel by night.\n\n\"Now I will make you an offer. I have got my ring and will creep down this very noon-then if ever Smaug ought to be napping-and see what he is up to. Perhaps something will turn up. \"Every worm has his weak spot,\" as my father used to say, though I am sure it was not from personal experience.\"\n\nNaturally the dwarves accepted the offer eagerly. Already they had come to respect little Bilbo. Now he had become the real leader in their adventure. He had begun to have ideas and plans of his own. When midday came he got ready for another journey down into the Mountain. He did not like it of course, but it was not so bad now he knew, more or less, what was in front of him. Had he known more about dragons and their wily ways, he might have been more frightened and less hopeful of catching this one napping." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The sun was shining when he started, but it was as dark as night in the tunnel. The light from the door, almost closed, soon faded as he went down. So silent was his going that smoke on a gentle wind could hardly have surpassed it, and he was inclined to feel a bit proud of himself as he drew near the lower door. There was only the very faintest glow to be seen.\n\n\"Old Smaug is weary and asleep,\" he thought. \"He can't see me and he won't hear me. Cheer up Bilbo!\" He had forgotten or had never heard about dragons' sense of smell. It is also an awkward fact that they can keep half an eye open watching while they sleep, if they are suspicious.\n\nSmaug certainly looked fast asleep, almost dead and dark, with scarcely a snore more than a whiff of unseen steam, when Bilbo peeped once more from the entrance. He was just about to step out onto the floor when he caught a sudden thin and piercing ray of red from under the drooping lid of Smaug's left eye. He was only pretending to sleep! He was watching the tunnel entrance! Hurriedly Bilbo stepped back and blessed the luck of his ring. Then Smaug spoke.\n\n\"Well, thief! I smell you and I feel your air. I hear your breath. Come along! Help yourself again, there is plenty and to spare!\"\n\nBut Bilbo was not quite so unlearned in dragon-lore as all that, and if Smaug hoped to get him to come nearer so easily he was disappointed. \"No thank you, O Smaug the Tremendous!\" he replied.\n\n\"I did not come for presents. I only wished to have a look at you and see if you were truly as great as tales say. I did not believe them.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Do you now?\" said the dragon somewhat flattered, even though he did not believe a word of it.\n\n\"Truly songs and tales fall utterly short of the reality, O Smaug the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities,\" replied Bilbo.\n\n\"You have nice manners fora thief and a liar,\" said the dragon. \"You seem familiar with my name, but I don't seem to remember smelling you before. Who are you and where do you come from, may I ask?\"\n\n\"You may indeed! I come from under the hill, and under the hills and over the hills my paths led. And through the air. I am he that walks unseen.\"\n\n\"So I can well believe,\" said Smaug, \"but that is hardly your usual name.\"\n\n\"I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly. I was chosen for the lucky number.\"\n\n\"Lovely titles!\" sneered the dragon. \"But lucky numbers don't always come off.\"\n\n\"I am he that buries his friends alive and drowns them and draws them alive again from the water. I came from the end of a bag, but no bag went over me.\"\n\n\"These don't sound so creditable,\" scoffed Smaug. \"I am the friend of bears and the guest of eagles. I am Ringwinner and Luckwearer; and I am Barrel-rider,\" went on Bilbo beginning to be pleased with his riddling.\n\n\"That's better!\" said Smaug. \"But don't let your imagination runaway with you!\"\n\nThis of course is the way to talk to dragons, if you don't want to reveal your proper name (which is wise), and don't want to infuriate them by a flat refusal (which is also very wise). No dragon can resist the fascination of riddling talk and of wasting time trying to understand it. There was a lot here which Smaug did not understand at all (though I expect you do, since you know all about Bilbo's adventures to which he was referring), but he thought he understood enough, and he chuckled in his wicked inside." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I thought so last night,\" he smiled to himself. \"Lake-men, some nasty scheme of those miserable tub-trading Lake-men, or I'm a lizard. I haven't been down that way for an age and an age; but I will soon alter that!\"\n\n\"Very well, O Barrel-rider!\" he said aloud. \"Maybe Barrel was your pony's name; and maybe not, though it was fat enough. You may walk unseen, but you did not walk all the way. Let me tell you I ate six ponies last night and I shall catch and eat all the others before long. In return for the excellent meal I will give you one piece of advice for your good: don't have more to do with dwarves than you can help!\"\n\n\"Dwarves!\" said Bilbo in pretended surprise. \"Don't talk tome!\" said Smaug. \"I know the smell (and taste) of dwarf-no one better. Don't tell me that I can eat a dwarf-ridden pony and not know it! You'll come to a bad end, if you go with such friends, Thief Barrel-rider. I don't mind if you go back and tell them so from me.\" But he did not tell Bilbo that there was one smell he could not make out at all, hobbit-smell; it was quite outside his experience and puzzled him mightily.\n\n\"I suppose you got a fair price for that cup last night?\" he went on. \"Come now, did you? Nothing at all! Well, that's just like them. And I suppose they are skulking outside, and your job is to do all the dangerous work and get what you can when I'm not looking-for them? And you will get a fair share? Don't you believe it! If you get off alive, you will be lucky.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bilbo was now beginning to feel really uncomfortable. Whenever Smaug's roving eye, seeking for him in the shadows, flashed across him, he trembled, and an unaccountable desire seized hold of him to rush out and reveal himself and tell all the truth to Smaug. In fact he was in grievous danger of coming under the dragon-spell. But plucking up courage he spoke again.\n\n\"You don't know everything, O Smaug the Mighty,\" said he. \"Not gold alone brought us hither.\"\n\n\"Ha! Ha! You admit the \"us\"\" laughed Smaug. \" Why not say \"us fourteen\" and be done with it, Mr. Lucky Number? I am pleased to hear that you had other business in these parts besides my gold. In that case you may, perhaps, not altogether waste your time.\n\n\"I don't know if it has occurred to you that, even if you could steal the gold bit by bit-a matter of a hundred years or so-you could not get it very far? Not much use on the mountain-side? Not much use in the forest? Bless me! Had you never thought of the catch? A fourteenth share, I suppose, or something like it, those were the terms, eh? But what about delivery? What about cartage? What about armed guards and tolls?\" And Smaug laughed aloud. He had a wicked and a wily heart, and he knew his guesses were not far out, though he suspected that the Lake-men were at the back of the plans, and that most of the plunder was meant to stop therein the town by the shore that in his young days had been called Esgaroth.\n\nYou will hardly believe it, but poor Bilbo was really very taken aback. So far all his thoughts and energies had been concentrated on getting to the Mountain and finding the entrance. He had never bothered to wonder how the treasure was to be removed, certainly never how any part of it that might fall to his share was to be brought back all the way to Bag-End Under-Hill." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Now a nasty suspicion began to grow in his mind-had the dwarves forgotten this important point too, or were they laughing in their sleeves at him all the time?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That is the effect that dragon-talk has on the inexperienced. Bilbo of course ought to have been on his guard; but Smaug had rather an overwhelming personality.\n\n\"I tell you,\" he said, in an effort to remain loyal to his friends and to keep his end up, \"that gold was only an afterthought with us. We came over hill and under hill, by wave and wind, for Revenge. Surely, O Smaug the unassessably wealthy, you must realize that your success has made you some bitter enemies?\"\n\nThen Smaug really did laugh-a devastating sound which shook Bilbo to the floor, while far up in the tunnel the dwarves huddled together and imagined that the hobbit had come to a sudden and a nasty end.\n\n\"Revenge!\" he snorted, and the light of his eyes lit the hall from floor to ceiling like scarlet lightning. \"Revenge! The King under the Mountain is dead and where are his kin that dare seek revenge? Girion Lord of Dale is dead, and I have eaten his people like a wolf among sheep, and where are his sons' sons that dare approach me? I kill where I wish and none dare resist. I laid low the warriors of old and their like is not in the world today. Then I was but young and tender. Now I am old and strong, strong, strong, Thief in the Shadows!\" he gloated. \"My armour is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death!\"\n\n\"I have always understood,\" said Bilbo in a frightened squeak, \"that dragons were softer underneath, especially in the region of the-er-chest; but doubtless one so fortified has thought of that.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The dragon stopped short in his boasting." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Your information is antiquated,\" he snapped. \"I am armoured above and below with iron scales and hard gems. No blade can pierce me.\"\n\n\"I might have guessed it,\" said Bilbo. \"Truly there can nowhere be found the equal of Lord Smaug the Impenetrable. What magnificence to possess a waistcoat of fine diamonds!\"\n\n\"Yes, it is rare and wonderful, indeed,\" said Smaug absurdly pleased. He did not know that the hobbit had already caught a glimpse of his peculiar under-covering on his previous visit, and was itching fora closer view for reasons of his own. The dragon rolled over. \"Look!\" he said. \"What do you say to that?\"\n\n\"Dazzlingly marvellous! Perfect! Flawless! Staggering!\" exclaimed Bilbo aloud, but what he thought inside was: \"Old fool! Why, there is a large patch in the hollow of his left breast as bare as a snail out of its shell!\"\n\nAfter he had seen that Mr. Baggins' one idea was to getaway. \"Well, I really must not detain Your Magnificence any longer,\" he said, \"or keep you from much needed rest. Ponies take some catching, I believe, after along start. And so do burglars,\" he added as a parting shot, as he darted back and fled up the tunnel.\n\nIt was an unfortunate remark, for the dragon spouted terrific flames after him, and fast though he sped up the slope, he had not gone nearly far enough to be comfortable before the ghastly head of Smaug was thrust against the opening behind. Luckily the whole head and jaws could not squeeze in, but the nostrils sent forth fire and vapour to pursue him, and he was nearly overcome, and stumbled blindly on in great pain and fear. He had been feeling rather pleased with the cleverness of his conversation with Smaug, but his mistake at the end shook him into better sense." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Never laugh at live dragons, Bilbo you fool!\" he said to himself, and it became a favourite saying of his later, and passed into a proverb. \"You aren't nearly through this adventure yet,\" he added, and that was pretty true as well.\n\nThe afternoon was turning into evening when he came out again and stumbled and fell in a faint on the \"doorstep\". The dwarves revived him, and doctored his scorches as well as they could; but it was along time before the hair on the back of his head and his heels grew properly again: it had all been singed and frizzled right down to the skin. In the meanwhile his friends did their best to cheer him up; and they were eager for his story, especially wanting to know why the dragon had made such an awful noise, and how Bilbo had escaped.\n\nBut the hobbit was worried and uncomfortable, and they had difficulty in getting anything out of him. On thinking things over he was now regretting some of the things he had said to the dragon, and was not eager to repeat them. The old thrush was sitting on a rock nearby with his head cocked on one side, listening to all that was said. It shows what an ill temper Bilbo was in: he picked up a stone and threw it at the thrush, which merely fluttered aside and came back.\n\n\"Drat the bird!\" said Bilbo crossly. \"I believe he is listening, and I don't like the look of him.\"\n\n\"Leave him alone!\" said Thorin. \"The thrushes are good and friendly-this is a very old bird indeed, and is maybe the last left of the ancient breed that used to live about here, tame to the hands of my father and grandfather. They were along-lived and magical race, and this might even be one of those that were alive then, a couple of hundreds of years or more ago. The Men of Dale used to have the trick of understanding their language, and used them for messengers to fly to the Men of the Lake and elsewhere.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Partnering with the author, carry on with the tale.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, quest\nAuthor: J.R.R. Tolkien\nTitle: The Hobbit\nChapter: 3" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Never laugh at live dragons, Bilbo you fool!\" he said to himself, and it became a favourite saying of his later, and passed into a proverb. \"You aren't nearly through this adventure yet,\" he added, and that was pretty true as well.\n\nThe afternoon was turning into evening when he came out again and stumbled and fell in a faint on the \"doorstep\". The dwarves revived him, and doctored his scorches as well as they could; but it was along time before the hair on the back of his head and his heels grew properly again: it had all been singed and frizzled right down to the skin. In the meanwhile his friends did their best to cheer him up; and they were eager for his story, especially wanting to know why the dragon had made such an awful noise, and how Bilbo had escaped.\n\nBut the hobbit was worried and uncomfortable, and they had difficulty in getting anything out of him. On thinking things over he was now regretting some of the things he had said to the dragon, and was not eager to repeat them. The old thrush was sitting on a rock nearby with his head cocked on one side, listening to all that was said. It shows what an ill temper Bilbo was in: he picked up a stone and threw it at the thrush, which merely fluttered aside and came back.\n\n\"Drat the bird!\" said Bilbo crossly. \"I believe he is listening, and I don't like the look of him.\"\n\n\"Leave him alone!\" said Thorin. \"The thrushes are good and friendly-this is a very old bird indeed, and is maybe the last left of the ancient breed that used to live about here, tame to the hands of my father and grandfather. They were along-lived and magical race, and this might even be one of those that were alive then, a couple of hundreds of years or more ago. The Men of Dale used to have the trick of understanding their language, and used them for messengers to fly to the Men of the Lake and elsewhere.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well, he'll have news to take to Lake-town all right, if that is what he is after,\" said Bilbo; \"though I don't suppose there are any people left there that trouble with thrush-language.\"\n\n\"Why what has happened?\" cried the dwarves. \"Do get on with your tale!\"\n\nSo Bilbo told them all he could remember, and he confessed that he had a nasty feeling that the dragon guessed too much from his riddles added to the camps and the ponies. \"I am sure he knows we came from Lake-town and had help from there; and I have a horrible feeling that his next move maybe in that direction. I wish to goodness I had never said that about Barrel-rider; it would make even a blind rabbit in these parts think of the Lake-men.\"\n\n\"Well, well! It cannot be helped, and it is difficult not to slip in talking to a dragon, or so I have always heard,\" said Balin anxious to comfort him. \"I think you did very well, if you ask me-you found out one very useful thing at any rate, and got home alive, and that is more than most can say who have had words with the likes of Smaug. It maybe a mercy and a blessing yet to know of the bare patch in the old Worm's diamond waistcoat.\"\n\nThat turned the conversation, and they all began discussing dragon-slayings historical, dubious, and mythical, and the various sorts of stabs and jabs and undercuts, and the different arts devices and stratagems by which they had been accomplished. The general opinion was that catching a dragon napping was not as easy as it sounded, and the attempt to stick one or prod one asleep was more likely to end in disaster than a bold frontal attack. All the while they talked the thrush listened, till at last when the stars began to peep forth, it silently spread its wings and flew away. And all the while they talked and the shadows lengthened Bilbo became more and more unhappy and his foreboding grew." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At last he interrupted them. \"I am sure we are very unsafe here,\" he said, \"and I don't seethe point of sitting here. The dragon has withered all the pleasant green, and anyway the night has come and it is cold. But I feel it in my bones that this place will be attacked again. Smaug knows now how I came down to his hall, and you can trust him to guess where the other end of the tunnel is. He will break all this side of the Mountain to bits, if necessary, to stop up our entrance, and if we are smashed with it the better he will like it.\"\n\n\"You are very gloomy, Mr. Baggins!\" said Thorin. \"Why has not Smaug blocked the lower end, then, if he is so eager to keep us out? He has not, or we should have heard him.\"\n\n\"I don't know, I don't know-because at first he wanted to try and lure me in again, I suppose, and now perhaps because he is waiting till after tonight's hunt, or because he does not want to damage his bedroom if he can help it-but I wish you would not argue. Smaug will becoming out at any minute now, and our only hope is to get well in the tunnel and shut the door.\"\n\nHe seemed so much in earnest that the dwarves at last did as he said, though they delayed shutting the door-it seemed a desperate plan, for no one knew whether or how they could get it open again from the inside, and the thought of being shut in a place from which the only way out led through the dragon's lair was not one they liked. Also everything seemed quite quiet, both outside and down the tunnel. So fora longish while they sat inside not far down from the half-open door and went on talking." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The talk turned to the dragon's wicked words about the dwarves." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bilbo wished he had never heard them, or at least that he could feel quite certain that the dwarves now were absolutely honest when they declared that they had never thought at all about what would happen after the treasure had been won. \"We knew it would be a desperate venture,\" said Thorin, \"and we know that still; and I still think that when we have won it will be time enough to think what to do about it. As for your share, Mr. Baggins, I assure you we are more than grateful and you shall choose your own fourteenth, as soon as we have anything to divide. I am sorry if you are worried about transport, and I admit the difficulties are great-the lands have not become less wild with the passing of time, rather the reverse-but we will do whatever we can for you, and take our share of the cost when the time comes. Believe me or not as you like!\"\n\nFrom that the talk turned to the great hoard itself and to the things that Thorin and Balin remembered. They wondered if they were still lying there unharmed in the hall below: the spears that were made for the armies of the great King Bladorthin (long since dead), each had a thrice-forged head and their shafts were inlaid with cunning gold, but they were never delivered or paid for; shields made for warriors long dead; the great golden cup of Thror, two-handed, hammered and carven with birds and flowers whose eyes and petals were of jewels; coats of mail gilded and silvered and impenetrable; the necklace of Girion, Lord of Dale, made of five hundred emeralds green as grass, which he gave for the arming of his eldest son in a coat of dwarf-linked rings the like of which had never been made before, for it was wrought of pure silver to the power and strength of triple steel. But fairest of all was the great white gem, which the dwarves had found beneath the roots of the Mountain, the Heart of the Mountain, the Arkenstone of Thrain." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Arkenstone! The Arkenstone!\" murmured Thorin in the dark, half dreaming with his chin upon his knees. \"It was like a globe with a thousand facets; it shone like silver in the firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stars, like rain upon the Moon!\"\n\nBut the enchanted desire of the hoard had fallen from Bilbo. All through their talk he was only half listening to them. He sat nearest to the door with one ear cocked for any beginnings of a sound without, his other was alert for echoes beyond the murmurs of the dwarves, for any whisper of a movement from far below.\n\nDarkness grew deeper and he grew evermore uneasy. \"Shut the door!\" he begged them, \"I fear that dragon in my marrow. I like this silence far less than the uproar of last night. Shut the door before it is too late!\"\n\nSomething in his voice gave the dwarves an uncomfortable feeling. Slowly Thorin shook off his dreams and getting up he kicked away the stone that wedged the door. Then they thrust upon it, and it closed with a snap and a clang. No trace of a keyhole was there left on the inside. They were shut in the Mountain!\n\nAnd not a moment too soon. They had hardly gone any distance down the tunnel when a blow smote the side of the Mountain like the crash of battering-rams made of forest oaks and swung by giants. The rock boomed, the walls cracked and stones fell from the roof on their heads. What would have happened if the door had still been open I don't like to think. They fled further down the tunnel glad to be still alive, while behind them outside they heard the roar and rumble of Smaug's fury. He was breaking rocks to pieces, smashing wall and cliff with the lashings of his huge tail, till their little lofty camping ground, the scorched grass, the thrush's stone, the snail-covered walls, the narrow ledge, and all disappeared in a jumble of smithereens, and an avalanche of splintered stones fell over the cliff into the valley below." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Smaug had left his lair in silent stealth, quietly soared into the air, and then floated heavy and slow in the dark like a monstrous crow, down the wind towards the west of the Mountain, in the hopes of catching unawares something or somebody there, and of spying the outlet to the passage which the thief had used. This was the outburst of his wrath when he could find nobody and see nothing, even where he guessed the outlet must actually be.\n\nAfter he had let off his rage in this way he felt better and he thought in his heart that he would not be troubled again from that direction. In the meanwhile he had further vengeance to take. \"Barrel-rider!\" he snorted. \"Your feet came from the waterside and up the water you came without a doubt. I don't know your smell, but if you are not one of those men of the Lake, you had their help. They shall see me and remember who is the real King under the Mountain!\"\n\nHe rose in fire and went away south towards the Running River." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the meanwhile, the dwarves satin darkness, and utter silence fell about them. Little they ate and little they spoke. They could not count the passing of time; and they scarcely dared to move, for the whisper of their voices echoed and rustled in the tunnel. If they dozed, they woke still to darkness and to silence going on unbroken. At last after days and days of waiting, as it seemed, when they were becoming choked and dazed for want of air, they could bear it no longer. They would almost have welcomed sounds from below of the dragon's return. In the silence they feared some cunning devilry of his, but they could not sit therefor ever.\n\nThorin spoke: \"Let us try the door!\" he said. \"I must feel the wind on my face soon or die. I think I would rather be smashed by Smaug in the open than suffocate inhere!\" So several of the dwarves got up and groped back to where the door had been. But they found that the upper end of the tunnel had been shattered and blocked with broken rock. Neither key nor the magic it had once obeyed would ever open that door again.\n\n\"We are trapped!\" they groaned. \"This is the end. We shall die here.\"\n\nBut somehow, just when the dwarves were most despairing, Bilbo felt a strange lightening of the heart, as if a heavyweight had gone from under his waistcoat.\n\n\"Come, come!\" he said. \"\"While there's life there's hope!\" as my father used to say, and \"Third time pays for all.\" I am going down the tunnel once again. I have been that way twice, when I knew there was a dragon at the other end, so I will risk a third visit when I am no longer sure. Anyway the only way out is down. And I think this time you had better all come with me.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In desperation they agreed, and Thorin was the first to go forward by Bilbo's side.\n\n\"Now do be careful!\" whispered the hobbit, \"and as quiet as you can be! There maybe no Smaug at the bottom, but then again there maybe. Don't let us take any unnecessary risks!\"\n\nDown, down they went. The dwarves could not, of course, compare with the hobbit in real stealth, and they made a deal of puffing and shuffling which echoes magnified alarmingly; but though every now and again Bilbo in fear stopped and listened, not a sound stirred below. Near the bottom, as well as he could judge, Bilbo slipped on his ring and went ahead. But he did not need it: the darkness was complete, and they were all invisible, ring or no ring. In fact so black was it that the hobbit came to the opening unexpectedly, put his hand on air, stumbled forward, and rolled headlong into the hall!\n\nThere he lay face downwards on the floor and did not dare to getup, or hardly even to breathe. But nothing moved. There was not agleam of light-unless, as it seemed to him, when at last he slowly raised his head, there was a pale white glint, above him and far off in the gloom. But certainly it was not a spark of dragon-fire, though the worm-stench was heavy in the place, and the taste of vapour was on his tongue.\n\nAt length Mr. Baggins could bear it no longer. \"Confound you, Smaug, you worm!\" he squeaked aloud. \"Stop playing hide-and-seek! Give me alight, and then eat me, if you can catch me!\"\n\nFaint echoes ran round the unseen hall, but there was no answer." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bilbo got up, and found that he did not know in what direction to turn.\n\n\"Now I wonder what on earth Smaug is playing at,\" he said. \"He is not at home today (or tonight, or whatever it is), I do believe. If Oin and Gloin have not lost their tinder-boxes, perhaps we can make a little light, and have a look round before the luck turns.\"\n\n\"Light!\" he cried. \"Can anybody make alight?\"\n\nThe dwarves, of course, were very alarmed when Bilbo fell forward down the step with a bump into the hall, and they sat huddled just where he had left them at the end of the tunnel.\n\n\"Sh! sh!\" they hissed, when they heard his voice; and though that helped the hobbit to find out where they were, it was sometime before he could get anything else out of them. But in the end, when Bilbo actually began to stamp on the floor, and screamed out'light!\" at the top of his shrill voice, Thorin gave way, and Oin and Gloin were sent back to their bundles at the top of the tunnel.\n\nAfter awhile a twinkling gleam showed them returning, Oin with a small pine-torch alight in his hand, and Gloin with a bundle of others under his arm. Quickly Bilbo trotted to the door and took the torch; but he could not persuade the dwarves to light the others or to come and join him yet. As Thorin carefully explained, Mr. Baggins was still officially their expert burglar and investigator. If he liked to risk alight, that was his affair. They would wait in the tunnel for his report. So they sat near the door and watched." }, { "from": "human", "value": "They saw the little dark shape of the hobbit start across the floor holding his tiny light aloft." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Every now and again, while he was still near enough, they caught a glint and a tinkle as he stumbled on some golden thing. The light grew smaller as he wandered away into the vast hall; then it began to rise dancing into the air. Bilbo was climbing the great mound of treasure. Soon he stood upon the top, and still went on. Then they saw him halt and stoop fora moment; but they did not know the reason.\n\nIt was the Arkenstone, the Heart of the Mountain. So Bilbo guessed from Thorin's description; but indeed there could not be two such gems, even in so marvellous a hoard, even in all the world. Ever as he climbed, the same white gleam had shone before him and drawn his feet towards it. Slowly it grew to a little globe of pallid light. Now as he came near, it was tinged with a flickering sparkle of many colours at the surface, reflected and splintered from the wavering light of his torch. At last he looked down upon it, and he caught his breath. The great jewel shone before his feet of its own inner light, and yet, cut and fashioned by the dwarves, who had dug it from the heart of the mountain long ago, it took all light that fell upon it and changed it into ten thousand sparks of white radiance shot with glints of the rainbow.\n\nSuddenly Bilbo's arm went towards it drawn by its enchantment. His small hand would not close about it, for it was a large and heavy gem; but he lifted it, shut his eyes, and put it in his deepest pocket.\n\n\"Now I am a burglar indeed!\" thought he. \"But I suppose I must tell the dwarves about it-sometime. They did say I could pick and choose my own share; and I think I would choose this, if they took all the rest!\" All the same he had an uncomfortable feeling that the picking and choosing had not really been meant to include this marvellous gem, and that trouble would yet come of it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Now he went on again." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Down the other side of the great mound he climbed, and the spark of his torch vanished from the sight of the watching dwarves. But soon they saw it faraway in the distance again. Bilbo was crossing the floor of the hall.\n\nHe went on, until he came to the great doors at the further side, and there a draught of air refreshed him, but it almost puffed out his light. He peeped timidly through, and caught a glimpse of great passages and of the dim beginnings of wide stairs going up into the gloom. And still there was no sight nor sound of Smaug. He was just going to turn and go back, when a black shape swooped at him, and brushed his face. He squeaked and started, stumbled backwards and fell. His torch dropped head downwards and went out!\n\n\"Only a bat, I suppose and hope!\" he said miserably. \"But now what am Ito do? Which is East, South, North, or West?\"\n\n\"Thorin! Balin! Oin! Gloin! Fili! Kili!\" he cried as loud as he could-it seemed a thin little noise in the wide blackness. \"The light's gone out! Someone come and find me and help me!\" For the moment his courage had failed altogether.\n\nFaintly the dwarves heard his small cries, though the only word they could catch was'help!\"\n\n\"Now what on earth or under it has happened?\" said Thorin. \"Certainly not the dragon, or he would not goon squeaking.\"\n\nThey waited a moment or two, and still there were no dragon-noises, no sound at all in fact but Bilbo's distant voice. \"Come, one of you, get another light or two!\" Thorin ordered. \"It seems we have got to go and help our burglar.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"It is about our turn to help,\" said Balin, \"and I am quite willing to go." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Anyway I expect it is safe for the moment.\"\n\nGloin lit several more torches, and then they all crept out, one by one, and went along the wall as hurriedly as they could. It was not long before they met Bilbo himself coming back towards them. His wits had quickly returned as soon as he saw the twinkle of their lights.\n\n\"Only a bat and a dropped torch, nothing worse!\" he said in answer to their questions. Though they were much relieved, they were inclined to be grumpy at being frightened for nothing; but what they would have said, if he had told them at that moment about the Arkenstone, I don't know. The mere fleeting glimpses of treasure which they had caught as they went along had rekindled all the fire of their dwarvish hearts; and when the heart of a dwarf, even the most respectable, is wakened by gold and by jewels, he grows suddenly bold, and he may become fierce.\n\nThe dwarves indeed no longer needed any urging. All were now eager to explore the hall while they had the chance, and willing to believe that, for the present, Smaug was away from home. Each now gripped alighted torch; and as they gazed, first on one side and then on another, they forgot fear and even caution. They spoke aloud, and cried out to one another, as they lifted old treasures from the mound or from the wall and held them in the light, caressing and fingering them.\n\nFili and Kili were almost in merry mood, and finding still hanging there many golden harps strung with silver they took them and struck them; and being magical (and also untouched by the dragon, who had small interest in music) they were still in tune. The dark hall was filled with a melody that had long been silent. But most of the dwarves were more practical: they gathered gems and stuffed their pockets, and let what they could not carry fallback through their fingers with a sigh. Thorin was not least among these; but always he searched from side to side for something which he could not find. It was the Arkenstone; but he spoke of it yet to no one." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now the dwarves took down mail and weapons from the walls, and armed themselves. Royal indeed did Thorin look, clad in a coat of gold-plated rings, with a silver-hafted axe in a belt crusted with scarlet stones.\n\n\"Mr. Baggins!\" he cried. \"Here is the first payment of your reward! Castoff your old coat and put on this!\"\n\nWith that he put on Bilbo a small coat of mail, wrought for some young elf-prince long ago. It was of silver-steel, which the elves call mithril, and with it went a belt of pearls and crystals. Alight helm of figured leather, strengthened beneath with hoops of steel, and studded about the brim with white gems, was set upon the hobbit's head.\n\n\"I feel magnificent,\" he thought; \"but I expect I look rather absurd. How they would laugh on the Hill at home! Still I wish there was a looking-glass handy!\"\n\nAll the same Mr. Baggins kept his head more clear of the bewitchment of the hoard than the dwarves did. Long before the dwarves were tired of examining the treasures, he became weary of it and sat down on the floor; and he began to wonder nervously what the end of it all would be. \"I would give a good many of these precious goblets,\" he thought, \"fora drink of something cheering out of one of Beorn's wooden bowls!\"\n\n\"Thorin!\" he cried aloud. \"What next? We are armed, but what good has any armour ever been before against Smaug the Dreadful? This treasure is not yet won back. We are not looking for gold yet, but fora way of escape; and we have tempted luck too long!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You speak the truth!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "answered Thorin, recovering his wits. \"Let us go! I will guide you. Not in a thousand years should I forget the ways of this palace.\" Then he hailed the others, and they gathered together, and holding their torches above their heads they passed through the gaping doors, not without many a backward glance of longing.\n\nTheir glittering mail they had covered again with their old cloaks and their bright helms with their tattered hoods, and one by one they walked behind Thorin, a line of little lights in the darkness that halted often, listening in fear once more for any rumour of the dragon's coming.\n\nThough all the old adornments were long mouldered or destroyed, and though all was befouled and blasted with the comings and goings of the monster, Thorin knew every passage and every turn. They climbed long stairs, and turned and went down wide echoing ways, and turned again and climbed yet more stairs, and yet more stairs again. These were smooth, cutout of the living rock broad and fair; and up, up, the dwarves went, and they met no sign of any living thing, only furtive shadows that fled from the approach of their torches fluttering in the draughts.\n\nThe steps were not made, all the same, for hobbit-legs, and Bilbo was just feeling that he could goon no longer, when suddenly the roof sprang high and far beyond the reach of their torch-light. A white glimmer could be seen coming through some opening far above, and the air smelt sweeter. Before them light came dimly through great doors, that hung twisted on their hinges and half burnt.\n\n\"This is the great chamber of Thror,\" said Thorin; \"the hall of feasting and of council. Not far off now is the Front Gate.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "They passed through the ruined chamber." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Tables were rotting there; chairs and benches were lying there overturned, charred and decaying. Skulls and bones were upon the floor among flagons and bowls and broken drinking-horns and dust. As they came through yet more doors at the further end, a sound of water fell upon their ears, and the grey light grew suddenly more full.\n\n\"There is the birth of the Running River,\" said Thorin. \"From here it hastens to the Gate. Let us follow it!\"\n\nOut of a dark opening in a wall of rock there issued a boiling water, and it flowed swirling in a narrow channel, carved and made straight and deep by the cunning of ancient hands. Beside it ran a stone-paved road, wide enough for many men abreast. Swiftly along this they ran, and round a wide-sweeping turn-and behold! before them stood the broad light of day. In front there rose a tall arch, still showing the fragments of old carven work within, worn and splintered and blackened though it was. A misty sun sent its pale light between the arms of the Mountain, and beams of gold fell on the pavement at the threshold.\n\nA whirl of bats frightened from slumber by their smoking torches flurried over them; as they sprang forward their feet slithered on stones rubbed smooth and slimed by the passing of the dragon. Now before them the water fell noisily outward and foamed down towards the valley. They flung their pale torches to the ground, and stood gazing outwith dazzled eyes. They were come to the Front Gate, and were looking out upon Dale.\n\n\"Well!\" said Bilbo, \"I never expected to be looking out of this door. And I never expected to be so pleased to seethe sun again, and to feel the wind on my face. But, ow! this wind is cold!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "It was." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A bitter easterly breeze blew with a threat of oncoming winter. It swirled over and round the arms of the Mountain into the valley, and sighed among the rocks. After their longtime in the stewing depths of the dragon-haunted caverns, they shivered in the sun.\n\nSuddenly Bilbo realized that he was not only tired but also very hungry indeed. \"It seems to be late morning,\" he said, \"and so I suppose it is more or less breakfast-time-if there is any breakfast to have. But I don't feel that Smaug's front doorstep is the safest place fora meal. Do let's go somewhere where we can sit quiet fora bit!\"\n\n\"Quite right!\" said Balin. \"And I think I know which way we should go: we ought to make for the old look-outpost at the South-West corner of the Mountain.\"\n\n\"How far is that?\" asked the hobbit.\n\n\"Five hours march, I should think. It will be rough going. The road from the Gate along the left edge of the stream seems all broken up. But look down there! The river loops suddenly east across Dale in front of the ruined town. At that point there was once abridge, leading to steep stairs that climbed up the right bank, and so to a road running towards Ravenhill. There is (or was) a path that left the road and climbed up to the post. A hard climb, too, even if the old steps are still there.\"\n\n\"Dear me!\" grumbled the hobbit. \"More walking and more climbing without breakfast! I wonder how many breakfasts, and other meals, we have missed inside that nasty clockless, timeless hole?\"\n\nAs a matter of fact two nights and the day between had gone by (and not altogether without food) since the dragon smashed the magic door, but Bilbo had quite lost count, and it might have been one night or a week of nights for all he could tell." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Come, come!\" said Thorin laughing-his spirits had begun to rise again, and he rattled the precious stones in his pockets. \"Don't call my palace a nasty hole! You wait till it has been cleaned and redecorated!\"\n\n\"That won't be till Smaug's dead,\" said Bilbo glumly. \"In the meanwhile where is he? I would give a good breakfast to know. I hope he is not upon the Mountain looking down at us!\"\n\nThat idea disturbed the dwarves mightily, and they quickly decided that Bilbo and Balin were right.\n\n\"We must move away from here,\" said Dori. \"I feel as if his eyes were on the back of my head.\"\n\n\"It's a cold lonesome place,\" said Bombur. \"There maybe drink, but I see no sign of food. A dragon would always be hungry in such parts.\"\n\n\"Come on! Come on!\" cried the others. \"Let us follow Balin's path!\"\n\nUnder the rocky wall to the right there was no path, soon they trudged among the stones on the left side of the river, and the emptiness and desolation soon sobered even Thorin again. The bridge that Balin had spoken of they found long fallen, and most of its stones were now only boulders in the shallow noisy stream; but they forded the water without much difficulty, and found the ancient steps, and climbed the high bank. After going a short way they struck the old road, and before long came to a deep dell sheltered among the rocks; there they rested fora while and had such a breakfast as they could, chiefly cram and water. (If you want to know what cram is, I can only say that I don't know the recipe; but it is biscuitish, keeps good indefinitely, is supposed to be sustaining, and is certainly not entertaining, being in fact very uninteresting except as a chewing exercise. It was made by the Lake-men for long journeys.)" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After that they went on again; and now the road struck westwards and left the river, and the great shoulder of the south-pointing mountain-spur drew ever nearer. At length they reached the hill path. It scrambled steeply up, and they plodded slowly one behind the other, till at last in the late afternoon they came to the top of the ridge and saw the wintry sun going downwards to the West.\n\nHere they found a flat place without a wall on three sides, but backed to the North by a rocky face in which there was an opening like a door. From that door there was a wide view East and South and West.\n\n\"Here,\" said Balin, \"in the old days we used always to keep watchmen, and that door behind leads into a rockhewn chamber that was made here as a guardroom. There were several places like it round the Mountain. But there seemed small need for watching in the days of our prosperity, and the guards were made over comfortable, perhaps-otherwise we might have had longer warning of the coming of the dragon, and things might have been different. Still, here we can now lie hid and sheltered fora while, and can see much without being seen.\"\n\n\"Not much use, if we have been seen coming here,\" said Dori, who was always looking up towards the Mountain's peak, as if he expected to see Smaug perched there like a bird on a steeple.\n\n\"We must take our chance of that,\" said Thorin. \"We can go no further to-day.\"\n\n\"Hear, hear!\" cried Bilbo, and flung himself on the ground.\n\nIn the rock-chamber there would have been room fora hundred, and there was a small chamber further in, more removed from the cold outside. It was quite deserted; not even wild animals seemed to have used it in all the days of Smaug's dominion. There they laid their burdens; and some threw themselves down at once and slept, but the others sat near the outer door and discussed their plans. In all their talk they came perpetually back to one thing: where was Smaug? They looked West and there was nothing, and East there was nothing, and in the South there was no sign of the dragon, but there was a gathering of very many birds. At that they gazed and wondered; but they were no nearer understanding it, when the first cold stars came out." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now if you wish, like the dwarves, to hear news of Smaug, you must go back again to the evening when he smashed the door and flew off in rage, two days before.\n\nThe men of the lake-town Esgaroth were mostly indoors, for the breeze was from the black East and chill, but a few were walking on the quays, and watching, as they were fond of doing, the stars shine out from the smooth patches of the lake as they opened in the sky. From their town the Lonely Mountain was mostly screened by the low hills at the far end of the lake, through a gap in which the Running River came down from the North. Only its high peak could they see in clear weather, and they looked seldom at it, for it was ominous and drear even in the light of morning. Now it was lost and gone, blotted in the dark.\n\nSuddenly it flickered back to view; a brief glow touched it and faded.\n\n\"Look!\" said one. \"The lights again! Last night the watchmen saw them start and fade from midnight until dawn. Something is happening up there.\"\n\n\"Perhaps the King under the Mountain is forging gold,\" said another. \"It is long since he went North. It is time the songs began to prove themselves again.\"\n\n\"Which king?\" said another with a grim voice. \"As like as not it is the marauding fire of the Dragon, the only king under the Mountain we have ever known.\"\n\n\"You are always foreboding gloomy things!\" said the others. \"Anything from floods to poisoned fish. Think of something cheerful!\"\n\nThen suddenly a great light appeared in the low place in the hills and the northern end of the lake turned golden. \"The King beneath the Mountain!\" they shouted. \"His wealth is like the Sun, his silver like a fountain, his rivers golden run! The river is running gold from the Mountain!\" they cried, and everywhere windows were opening and feet were hurrying." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was once more a tremendous excitement and enthusiasm. But the grim-voiced fellow ran hotfoot to the Master. \"The dragon is coming or I am a fool!\" he cried. \"Cut the bridges! To arms! To arms!\"\n\nThen warning trumpets were suddenly sounded, and echoed along the rocky shores. The cheering stopped and the joy was turned to dread. So it was that the dragon did not find them quite unprepared.\n\nBefore long, so great was his speed, they could see him as a spark of fire rushing towards them and growing ever huger and more bright, and not the most foolish doubted that the prophecies had gone rather wrong. Still they had a little time. Every vessel in the town was filled with water, every warrior was armed, every arrow and dart was ready, and the bridge to the land was thrown down and destroyed, before the roar of Smaug's terrible approach grew loud, and the lake rippled red as fire beneath the awful beating of his wings. Amid shrieks and wailing and the shouts of men he came over them, swept towards the bridges and was foiled! The bridge was gone, and his enemies were on an island in deep water-too deep and dark and cool for his liking. If he plunged into it, a vapour and a steam would arise enough to coverall the land with a mist for days; but the lake was mightier than he, it would quench him before he could pass through.\n\nRoaring he sweptback over the town. A hail of dark arrows leaped up and snapped and rattled on his scales and jewels, and their shafts fell back kindled by his breath burning and hissing into the lake. No fireworks you ever imagined equalled the sights that night. At the twanging of the bows and the shrilling of the trumpets the dragon's wrath blazed to its height, till he was blind and mad with it. No one had dared to give battle to him for many an age; nor would they have dared now, if it had not been for the grim-voiced man (Bard was his name), who ran to and fro cheering on the archers and urging the Master to order them to fight to the last arrow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fire leaped from the dragon's jaws. He circled fora while high in the air above them lighting all the lake; the trees by the shores shone like copper and like blood with leaping shadows of dense black at their feet. Then down he swooped straight through the arrow-storm, reckless in his rage, taking no heed to turn his scaly sides towards his foes, seeking only to set their town ablaze.\n\nFire leaped from thatched roofs and wooden beam-ends as he hurtled down and past and round again, though all had been drenched with water before he came. Once more water was flung by a hundred hands wherever a spark appeared. Back swirled the dragon. A sweep of his tail and the roof of the Great House crumbled and smashed down. Flames unquenchable sprang high into the night. Another swoop and another, and another house and then another sprang afire and fell; and still no arrow hindered Smaug or hurt him more than a fly from the marshes.\n\nAlready men were jumping into the water on every side. Women and children were being huddled into laden boats in the market-pool. Weapons were flung down. There was mourning and weeping, where but a little time ago the old songs of mirth to come had been sung about the dwarves. Now men cursed their names. The Master himself was turning to his great gilded boat, hoping to row away in the confusion and save himself. Soon all the town would be deserted and burned down to the surface of the lake.\n\nThat was the dragon's hope. They could all get into boats for all he cared. There he could have fine sport hunting them, or they could stop till they starved. Let them try to get to land and he would be ready. Soon he would set all the shoreland woods ablaze and wither every field and pasture. Just now he was enjoying the sport of town-baiting more than he had enjoyed anything for years." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But there was still a company of archers that held their ground among the burning houses. Their captain was Bard, grim-voiced and grim-faced, whose friends had accused him of prophesying floods and poisoned fish, though they knew his worth and courage. He was a descendant in long line of Girion, Lord of Dale, whose wife and child had escaped down the Running River from the ruin long ago. Now he shot with a great yew bow, till all his arrows but one were spent. The flames were near him. His companions were leaving him. He bent his bow for the last time.\n\nSuddenly out of the dark something fluttered to his shoulder. He started-but it was only an old thrush. Unafraid it perched by his ear and it brought him news. Marvelling he found he could understand its tongue, for he was of the race of Dale.\n\n\"Wait! Wait!\" it said to him. \"The moon is rising. Look for the hollow of the left breast as he flies and turns above you!\" And while Bard paused in wonder it told him of tidings up in the Mountain and of all that it had heard.\n\nThen Bard drew his bow-string to his ear. The dragon was circling back, flying low, and as he came the moon rose above the eastern shore and silvered his great wings.\n\n\"Arrow!\" said the bowman. \"Black arrow! I have saved you to the last. You have never failed me and always I have recovered you. I had you from my father and he from of old. If ever you came from the forges of the true king under the Mountain, go now and speedwell!\"\n\nThe dragon swooped once more lower than ever, and as he turned and dived down his belly glittered white with sparkling fires of gems in the moon-but not in one place. The great bow twanged. The black arrow sped straight from the string, straight for the hollow by the left breast where the foreleg was flung wide. In it smote and vanished, barb, shaft and feather, so fierce was its flight. With a shriek that deafened men, felled trees and split stone, Smaug shot spouting into the air, turned over and crashed down from on high in ruin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Full on the town he fell. His last throes splintered it to sparks and gledes. The lake roared in. Avast steam leaped up, white in the sudden dark under the moon. There was a hiss, a gushing whirl, and then silence. And that was the end of Smaug and Esgaroth, but not of Bard.\n\nThe waxing moon rose higher and higher and the wind grew loud and cold. It twisted the white fog into bending pillars and hurrying clouds and drove it off to the West to scatter in tattered shreds over the marshes before Mirkwood. Then the many boats could be seen dotted dark on the surface of the lake, and down the wind came the voices of the people of Esgaroth lamenting their lost town and goods and ruined houses. But they had really much to be thankful for, had they thought of it, though it could hardly be expected that they should just then: three quarters of the people of the town had at least escaped alive; their woods and fields and pastures and cattle and most of their boats remained undamaged; and the dragon was dead. What that meant they had not yet realized.\n\nThey gathered in mournful crowds upon the western shores, shivering in the cold wind, and their first complaints and anger were against the Master, who had left the town so soon, while some were still willing to defend it.\n\n\"He may have a good head for business-especially his own business,\" some murmured, \"but he is no good when anything serious happens!\" And they praised the courage of Bard and his last mighty shot. \"If only he had not been killed,\" they all said, \"we would make him a king. Bard the Dragon-shooter of the line of Girion! Alas that he is lost!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And in the very midst of their talk a tall figure stepped from the shadows. He was drenched with water, his black hair hung wet over his face and shoulders, and a fierce light was in his eyes.\n\n\"Bard is not lost!\" he cried. \"He dived from Esgaroth, when the enemy was slain. I am Bard, of the line of Girion; I am the slayer of the dragon!\"\n\n\"King Bard! King Bard!\" they shouted; but the Master ground his chattering teeth.\n\n\"Girion was lord of Dale, not king of Esgaroth,\" he said. \"In the Lake-town we have always elected masters from among the old and wise, and have not endured the rule of mere fighting men. Let \"King Bard\" go back to his own kingdom-Dale is now freed by his valour, and nothing hinders his return. And any that wish can go with him, if they prefer the cold stones under the shadow of the Mountain to the green shores of the lake. The wise will stay here and hope to rebuild our town, and enjoy again in time its peace and riches.\"\n\n\"We will have King Bard!\" the people near at hand shouted in reply. \"We have had enough of the old men and the money-counters!\" And people further off took up the cry: \"Up the Bowman, and down with Moneybags,\" till the clamour echoed along the shore.\n\n\"I am the last man to undervalue Bard the Bowman,\" said the Master warily (for Bard now stood close beside him). \"He has tonight earned an eminent place in the roll of the benefactors of our town; and he is worthy of many imperishable songs. But, why O People?\"-and here the Master rose to his feet and spoke very loud and clear-\"Why do I get all your blame? For what fault am Ito be deposed? Who aroused the dragon from his slumber, I might ask? Who obtained of us rich gifts and ample help, and led us to believe that old songs could come true? Who played on our soft hearts and our pleasant fancies? What sort of gold have they sent down the river to reward us? Dragon-fire and ruin! From whom should we claim the recompense of our damage, and aid for our widows and orphans?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "As you see, the Master had not got his position for nothing." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The result of his words was that for the moment the people quite forgot their idea of anew king, and turned their angry thoughts towards Thorin and his company. Wild and bitter words were shouted from many sides; and some of those who had before sung the old songs loudest, were now heard as loudly crying that the dwarves had stirred the dragon up against them deliberately!\n\n\"Fools!\" said Bard. \"Why waste words and wrath on those unhappy creatures? Doubtless they perished first in fire, before Smaug came to us.\" Then even as he was speaking, the thought came into his heart of the fabled treasure of the Mountain lying without guard or owner, and he fell suddenly silent. He thought of the Master's words, and of Dale rebuilt, and filled with golden bells, if he could but find the men.\n\nAt length he spoke again: \"This is no time for angry words, Master, or for considering weighty plans of change. There is work to do. I serve you still-though after awhile I may think again of your words and go North with any that will follow me.\"\n\nThen he strode off to help in the ordering of the camps and in the care of the sick and the wounded. But the Master scowled at his back as he went, and remained sitting on the ground. He thought much but said little, unless it was to call loudly for men to bring him fire and food.\n\nNow everywhere Bard went he found talk running like fire among the people concerning the vast treasure that was now unguarded. Men spoke of the recompense for all their harm that they would soon get from it, and wealth over and to spare with which to buy rich things from the South; and it cheered them greatly in their plight. That was as well, for the night was bitter and miserable. Shelters could be contrived for few (the Master had one) and there was little food (even the Master went short). Many took ill of wet and cold and sorrow that night, and afterwards died, who had escaped uninjured from the ruin of the town; and in the days that followed there was much sickness and great hunger." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Meanwhile Bard took the lead, and ordered things as he wished, though always in the Master's name, and he had a hard task to govern the people and direct the preparations for their protection and housing. Probably most of them would have perished in the winter that now hurried after autumn, if help had not been to hand. But help came swiftly; for Bard at once had speedy messengers sent up the river to the Forest to ask the aid of the King of the Elves of the Wood, and these messengers had found a host already on the move, although it was then only the third day after the fall of Smaug.\n\nThe Elvenking had received news from his own messengers and from the birds that loved his folk, and already knew much of what had happened. Very great indeed was the commotion among all things with wings that dwelt on the borders of the Desolation of the Dragon. The air was filled with circling flocks, and their swift-flying messengers flew here and there across the sky. Above the borders of the Forest there was whistling, crying and piping. Far over Mirkwood tidings spread: \"Smaug is dead!\" Leaves rustled and startled ears were lifted. Even before the Elvenking rode forth the news had passed west right to the pinewoods of the Misty Mountains; Beorn had heard it in his wooden house, and the goblins were at council in their caves.\n\n\"That will be the last we shall hear of Thorin Oakenshield, I fear,\" said the king. \"He would have done better to have remained my guest. It is an ill wind, all the same,\" he added, \"that blows no one any good.\" For he too had not forgotten the legend of the wealth of Thror. So it was that Bard's messengers found him now marching with many spearmen and bowmen; and crows were gathered thick above him, for they thought that war was awakening again, such as had not been in those parts fora long age." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But the king, when he received the prayers of Bard, had pity, for he was the lord of a good and kindly people; so turning his march, which had at first been direct towards the Mountain, he hastened now down the river to the Long Lake. He had not boats or rafts enough for his host, and they were forced to go the slower way by foot; but great store of goods he sent ahead by water. Still elves are light-footed, and though they were not in these days much used to the marches and the treacherous lands between the Forest and the Lake, their going was swift. Only five days after the death of the dragon they came upon the shores and looked on the ruins of the town. Their welcome was good, as maybe expected, and the men and their Master were ready to make any bargain for the future in return for the Elvenking's aid.\n\nTheir plans were soon made. With the women and the children, the old and the unfit, the Master remained behind; and with him were some men of crafts and many skilled elves; and they busied themselves felling trees, and collecting the timber sent down from the Forest. Then they set about raising many huts by the shore against the oncoming winter; and also under the Master's direction they began the planning of anew town, designed more fair and large even than before, but not in the same place. They removed northward higher up the shore; forever after they had a dread of the water where the dragon lay. He would never again return to his golden bed, but was stretched cold as stone, twisted upon the floor of the shallows. Therefor ages his huge bones could be seen in calm weather amid the ruined piles of the old town. But few dared to cross the cursed spot, and none dared to dive into the shivering water or recover the precious stones that fell from his rotting carcase." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But all the men of arms who were still able, and the most of the Elvenking's array, got ready to march north to the Mountain. It was thus that in eleven days from the ruin of the town the head of their host passed the rock-gates at the end of the lake and came into the desolate lands." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now we will return to Bilbo and the dwarves. All night one of them had watched, but when morning came they had not heard or seen any sign of danger. But evermore thickly the birds were gathering. Their companies came flying from the South; and the crows that still lived about the Mountain were wheeling and crying unceasingly above.\n\n\"Something strange is happening,\" said Thorin. \"The time has gone for the autumn wanderings; and these are birds that dwell always in the land; there are starlings and flocks of finches; and far off there are many carrion birds as if a battle were afoot!\"\n\nSuddenly Bilbo pointed: \"There is that old thrush again!\" he cried. \"He seems to have escaped, when Smaug smashed the mountain-side, but I don't suppose the snails have!\"\n\nSure enough the old thrush was there, and as Bilbo pointed, he flew towards them and perched on a stone nearby. Then he fluttered his wings and sang; then he cocked his head on one side, as if to listen; and again he sang, and again he listened.\n\n\"I believe he is trying to tell us something,\" said Balin; \"but I cannot follow the speech of such birds, it is very quick and difficult. Can you make it out Baggins?\"\n\n\"Not very well,\" said Bilbo (as a matter of fact, he could make nothing of it at all); \"but the old fellow seems very excited.\"\n\n\"I only wish he was a raven!\" said Balin.\n\n\"I thought you did not like them! You seemed very shy of them, when we came this way before.\"\n\n\"Those were crows! And nasty suspicious-looking creatures at that, and rude as well. You must have heard the ugly names they were calling after us. But the ravens are different. There used to be great friendship between them and the people of Thror; and they often brought us secret news, and were rewarded with such bright things as they coveted to hide in their dwellings." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"They live many a year, and their memories are long, and they hand on their wisdom to their children." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I knew many among the ravens of the rocks when I was a dwarf-lad. This very height was once named Ravenhill, because there was a wise and famous pair, old Carc and his wife, that lived here above the guard-chamber. But I don't suppose that any of that ancient breed linger here now.\"\n\nNo sooner had he finished speaking than the old thrush gave aloud call, and immediately flew away.\n\n\"We may not understand him, but that old bird understands us, I am sure,\" said Balin. \"Keep watch now, and see what happens!\"\n\nBefore long there was a fluttering of wings, and back came the thrush; and with him came a most decrepit old bird. He was getting blind, he could hardly fly, and the top of his head was bald. He was an aged raven of great size. He alighted stiffly on the ground before them, slowly flapped his wings, and bobbed towards Thorin.\n\n\"O Thorin son of Thrain, and Balin son of Fundin,\" he croaked (and Bilbo could understand what he said, for he used ordinary language and not bird-speech). \" I am Roäc son of Carc. Carc is dead, but he was well known to you once. It is a hundred years and three and fifty since I came out of the egg, but I do not forget what my father told me. Now I am the chief of the great ravens of the Mountain. We are few, but we remember still the king that was of old. Most of my people are abroad, for there are great tidings in the South-some are tidings of joy to you, and some you will not think so good.\n\n\"Behold! the birds are gathering back again to the Mountain and to Dale from South and East and West, for word has gone out that Smaug is dead!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Dead! Dead?\" shouted the dwarves. \"Dead! Then we have been in needless fear-and the treasure is ours!\" They all sprang up and began to caper about for joy.\n\n\"Yes, dead,\" said Roäc. \"The thrush, may his feathers never fall, saw him die, and we may trust his words. He saw him fall in battle with the men of Esgaroth the third night back from now at the rising of the moon.\"\n\nIt was sometime before Thorin could bring the dwarves to be silent and listen to the raven's news. At length when he had told all the tale of the battle he went on:\n\n\"So much for joy, Thorin Oakenshield. You may go back to your halls in safety; all the treasure is yours-for the moment. But many are gathering hither beside the birds. The news of the death of the guardian has already gone far and wide, and the legend of the wealth of Thror has not lost in the telling during many years; many are eager fora share of the spoil. Already a host of the elves is on the way, and carrion birds are with them hoping for battle and slaughter. By the lake men murmur that their sorrows are due to the dwarves; for they are homeless and many have died, and Smaug has destroyed their town. They too think to find amends from your treasure, whether you are alive or dead.\n\n\"Your own wisdom must decide your course; but thirteen is small remnant of the great folk of Durin that once dwelt here, and now are scattered far. If you will listen to my counsel, you will not trust the Master of the Lake-men, but rather him that shot the dragon with his bow. Bard is he, of the race of Dale, of the line of Girion; he is a grim man but true. We would see peace once more among dwarves and men and elves after the long desolation; but it may cost you dear in gold. I have spoken.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then Thorin burst forth in anger: \"Our thanks, Roäc Carc's son. You and your people shall not be forgotten. But none of our gold shall thieves take or the violent carry off while we are alive. If you would earn our thanks still more, bring us news of any that draw near. Also I would beg of you, if any of you are still young and strong of wing, that you would send messengers to our kin in the mountains of the North, both west from here and east, and tell them of our plight. But go specially to my cousin Dain in the Iron Hills, for he has many people well-armed, and dwells nearest to this place. Bid him hasten!\"\n\n\"I will not say if this counsel be good or bad,\" croaked Roäc, \"but I will do what can be done.\" Then off he slowly flew.\n\n\"Back now to the Mountain!\" cried Thorin. \"We have little time to lose.\"\n\n\"And little food to use!\" cried Bilbo, always practical on such points. In any case he felt that the adventure was, properly speaking, over with the death of the dragon-in which he was much mistaken-and he would have given most of his share of the profits for the peaceful winding up of these affairs.\n\n\"Back to the Mountain!\" cried the dwarves as if they had not heard him; so back he had to go with them.\n\nAs you have heard some of the events already, you will see that the dwarves still had some days before them. They explored the caverns once more, and found, as they expected, that only the Front Gate remained open; all the other gates (except, of course, the small secret door) had long ago been broken and blocked by Smaug, and no sign of them remained. So now they began to labour hard in fortifying the main entrance, and in making anew path that led from it. Tools were to be found in plenty that the miners and quarriers and builders of old had used; and at such work the dwarves were still very skilled." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As they worked the ravens brought them constant tidings. In this way they learned that the Elvenking had turned aside to the Lake, and they still had a breathing space. Better still, they heard that three of their ponies had escaped and were wandering wild far down the banks of the Running River, not far from where the rest of their stores had been left. So while the others went on with their work, Fili and Kili were sent, guided by a raven, to find the ponies and bring back all they could.\n\nThey were four days gone, and by that time they knew that the joined armies of the Lake-men and the Elves were hurrying toward the Mountain. But now their hopes were higher; for they had food for some weeks with care-chiefly cram, of course, and they were very tired of it; but cram is much better than nothing-and already the gate was blocked with a wall of squared stones laid dry, but very thick and high, across the opening. There were holes in the wall through which they could see (or shoot), but no entrance. They climbed in or outwith ladders, and hauled stuff up with ropes. For the issuing of the stream they had contrived a small low arch under the new wall; but near the entrance they had so altered the narrow bed that a wide pool stretched from the mountain-wall to the head of the fall over which the stream went towards Dale. Approach to the Gate was now only possible, without swimming, along a narrow ledge of the cliff, to the right as one looked outwards from the wall. The ponies they had brought only to the head of the steps above the old bridge, and unloading them there had bidden them return to their masters and sent them back riderless to the South.\n\nThere came a night when suddenly there were many lights as of fires and torches away south in Dale before them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"They have come!\" called Balin. \"And their camp is very great. They must have come into the valley under the cover of dusk along both banks of the river.\"\n\nThat night the dwarves slept little. The morning was still pale when they saw a company approaching. From behind their wall they watched them come up to the valley's head and climb slowly up. Before long they could see that both men of the lake armed as if for war and elvish bowmen were among them. At length the foremost of these climbed the tumbled rocks and appeared at the top of the falls; and very great was their surprise to seethe pool before them and the Gate blocked with a wall of new-hewn stone.\n\nAs they stood pointing and speaking to one another Thorin hailed them: \"Who are you,\" he called in a very loud voice, \"that come as if in war to the gates of Thorin son of Thrain, King under the Mountain, and what do you desire?\"\n\nBut they answered nothing. Some turned swiftly back, and the others after gazing fora while at the Gate and its defences soon followed them. That day the camp was moved to the east of the river, right between the arms of the Mountain. The rocks echoed then with voices and with song, as they had not done for many a day. There was the sound, too, of elven-harps and of sweet music; and as it echoed up towards them it seemed that the chill of the air was warmed, and they caught faintly the fragrance of woodland flowers blossoming in spring.\n\nThen Bilbo longed to escape from the dark fortress and to go down and join in the mirth and feasting by the fires. Some of the younger dwarves were moved in their hearts, too, and they muttered that they wished things had fallen out otherwise and that they might welcome such folk as friends; but Thorin scowled." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then the dwarves themselves brought forth harps and instruments regained from the hoard, and made music to soften his mood; but their song was not as elvish song, and was much like the song they had sung long before in Bilbo's little hobbit-hole.\n\nUnder the Mountain dark and tall\n\nThe King has come unto his hall!\n\nHis foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,\n\nAnd ever so his foes shall fall.\n\nThe sword is sharp, the spear is long,\n\nThe arrow swift, the Gate is strong;\n\nThe heart is bold that looks on gold;\n\nThe dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.\n\nThe dwarves of yore made mighty spells,\n\nWhile hammers fell like ringing bells\n\nIn places deep, where dark things sleep,\n\nIn hollow halls beneath the fells.\n\nOn silver necklaces they strung\n\nThe light of stars, on crowns they hung\n\nThe dragon-fire, from twisted wire\n\nThe melody of harps they wrung.\n\nThe mountain throne once more is freed!\n\nO! wandering folk, the summons heed! Come haste!\n\nCome haste! across the waste!\n\nThe king of friend and kin has need.\n\nNow call we over mountains cold,\n\n\"Come back unto the caverns old\"!\n\nHere at the Gates the king awaits,\n\nHis hands are rich with gems and gold.\n\nThe king is come unto his hall\n\nUnder the Mountain dark and tall.\n\nThe Worm of Dread is slain and dead," }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And ever so our foes shall fall!\n\nThis song appeared to please Thorin, and he smiled again and grew merry; and he began reckoning the distance to the Iron Hills and how long it would be before Dain could reach the Lonely Mountain, if he had set out as soon as the message reached him. But Bilbo's heart fell, both at the song and the talk: they sounded much too warlike.\n\nThe next morning early a company of spearmen was seen crossing the river, and marching up the valley. They bore with them the green banner of the Elvenking and the blue banner of the Lake, and they advanced until they stood right before the wall at the Gate.\n\nAgain Thorin hailed them in aloud voice: \"Who are you that come armed for war to the gates of Thorin son of Thrain, King under the Mountain?\" This time he was answered.\n\nA tall man stood forward, dark of hair and grim of face, and he cried: \"Hail Thorin! Why do you fence yourself like a robber in his hold? We are not yet foes, and we rejoice that you are alive beyond our hope. We came expecting to find none living here; yet now that we are met there is matter fora parley and a council.\"\n\n\"Who are you, and of what would you parley?\"\n\n\"I am Bard, and by my hand was the dragon slain and your treasure delivered. Is that not a matter that concerns you? Moreover I am by right descent the heir of Girion of Dale, and in your hoard is mingled much of the wealth of his halls and towns, which of old Smaug stole. Is not that a matter of which we may speak? Further in his last battle Smaug destroyed the dwellings of the men of Esgaroth, and I am yet the servant of their Master. I would speak for him and ask whether you have no thought for the sorrow and misery of his people. They aided you in your distress, and in recompense you have thus far brought ruin only, though doubtless undesigned.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Now these were fair words and true, if proudly and grimly spoken; and Bilbo thought that Thorin would at once admit what justice was in them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He did not, of course, expect that anyone would remember that it was he who discovered all by himself the dragon's weak spot; and that was just as well, for no one ever did. But also he did not reckon with the power that gold has upon which a dragon has long brooded, nor with dwarvish hearts. Long hours in the past days Thorin had spent in the treasury, and the lust of it was heavy on him. Though he had hunted chiefly for the Arkenstone, yet he had an eye for many another wonderful thing that was lying there, about which were wound old memories of the labours and the sorrows of his race.\n\n\"You put your worst cause last and in the chief place,\" Thorin answered. \" To the treasure of my people no man has a claim, because Smaug who stole it from us also robbed him of life or home. The treasure was not his that his evil deeds should be amended with a share of it. The price of the goods and the assistance that we received of the Lake-men we will fairly pay-in due time. But nothing will we give, not even a loaf's worth, under threat of force. While an armed host lies before our doors, we look on you as foes and thieves.\n\n\"It is in my mind to ask what share of their inheritance you would have paid to our kindred, had you found the hoard unguarded and us slain.\"\n\n\"A just question,\" replied Bard. \"But you are not dead, and we are not robbers. Moreover the wealthy may have pity beyond right on the needy that befriended them when they were in want. And still my other claims remain unanswered.\"\n\n\"I will not parley, as I have said, with armed men at my gate. Nor at all with the people of the Elvenking, whom I remember with small kindness. In this debate they have no place. Begone now ere our arrows fly! And if you would speak with me again, first dismiss the elvish host to the woods where it belongs, and then return, laying down your arms before you approach the threshold.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Partner with the author and carry on with the tale.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, quest\nAuthor: J.R.R. Tolkien\nTitle: The Hobbit\nChapter: 6" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Now these were fair words and true, if proudly and grimly spoken; and Bilbo thought that Thorin would at once admit what justice was in them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He did not, of course, expect that anyone would remember that it was he who discovered all by himself the dragon's weak spot; and that was just as well, for no one ever did. But also he did not reckon with the power that gold has upon which a dragon has long brooded, nor with dwarvish hearts. Long hours in the past days Thorin had spent in the treasury, and the lust of it was heavy on him. Though he had hunted chiefly for the Arkenstone, yet he had an eye for many another wonderful thing that was lying there, about which were wound old memories of the labours and the sorrows of his race.\n\n\"You put your worst cause last and in the chief place,\" Thorin answered. \" To the treasure of my people no man has a claim, because Smaug who stole it from us also robbed him of life or home. The treasure was not his that his evil deeds should be amended with a share of it. The price of the goods and the assistance that we received of the Lake-men we will fairly pay-in due time. But nothing will we give, not even a loaf's worth, under threat of force. While an armed host lies before our doors, we look on you as foes and thieves.\n\n\"It is in my mind to ask what share of their inheritance you would have paid to our kindred, had you found the hoard unguarded and us slain.\"\n\n\"A just question,\" replied Bard. \"But you are not dead, and we are not robbers. Moreover the wealthy may have pity beyond right on the needy that befriended them when they were in want. And still my other claims remain unanswered.\"\n\n\"I will not parley, as I have said, with armed men at my gate. Nor at all with the people of the Elvenking, whom I remember with small kindness. In this debate they have no place. Begone now ere our arrows fly! And if you would speak with me again, first dismiss the elvish host to the woods where it belongs, and then return, laying down your arms before you approach the threshold.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Elvenking is my friend, and he has succoured the people of the Lake in their need, though they had no claim but friendship on him,\" answered Bard. \"We will give you time to repent your words. Gather your wisdom ere we return!\" Then he departed and went back to the camp.\n\nEre many hours were past, the banner-bearers returned, and trumpeters stood forth and blew a blast:\n\n\"In the name of Esgaroth and the Forest,\" one cried, \"we speak unto Thorin Thrain's son Oakenshield, calling himself the King under the Mountain, and we bid him consider well the claims that have been urged, or be declared our foe. At the least he shall deliver one twelfth portion of the treasure unto Bard, as the dragon-slayer, and as the heir of Girion. From that portion Bard will himself contribute to the aid of Esgaroth; but if Thorin would have the friendship and honour of the lands about, as his sires had of old, then he will give also somewhat of his own for the comfort of the men of the Lake.\"\n\nThen Thorin seized a bow of horn and shot an arrow at the speaker. It smote into his shield and stuck there quivering.\n\n\"Since such is your answer,\" he called in return, \"I declare the Mountain besieged. You shall not depart from it, until you call on your side fora truce and a parley. We will bear no weapons against you, but we leave you to your gold. You may eat that, if you will!\"\n\nWith that the messengers departed swiftly, and the dwarves were left to consider their case. So grim had Thorin become, that even if they had wished, the others would not have dared to find fault with him; but indeed most of them seemed to share his mind-except perhaps old fat Bombur and Fili and Kili. Bilbo, of course, disapproved of the whole turn of affairs. He had by now had more than enough of the Mountain, and being besieged inside it was not at all to his taste." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The whole place still stinks of dragon,\" he grumbled to himself, \"and it makes me sick. And cram is beginning simply to stick in my throat.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now the days passed slowly and wearily. Many of the dwarves spent their time piling and ordering the treasure; and now Thorin spoke of the Arkenstone of Thrain, and bade them eagerly to look for it in every corner.\n\n\"For the Arkenstone of my father,\" he said, \"is worth more than a river of gold in itself, and tome it is beyond price. That stone of all the treasure I name unto myself, and I will be avenged on anyone who finds it and withholds it.\"\n\nBilbo heard these words and he grew afraid, wondering what would happen, if the stone was found-wrapped in an old bundle of tattered oddments that he used as a pillow. All the same he did not speak of it, for as the weariness of the days grew heavier, the beginnings of a plan had come into his little head.\n\nThings had gone on like this for sometime, when the ravens brought news that Dain and more than five hundred dwarves, hurrying from the Iron Hills, were now within about two days' march of Dale, coming from the North-East.\n\n\"But they cannot reach the Mountain unmarked,\" said Roäc, \"and I fear lest there be battle in the valley. I do not call this counsel good. Though they area grim folk, they are not likely to overcome the host that besets you; and even if they did so, what will you gain? Winter and snow is hastening behind them. How shall you be fed without the friendship and goodwill of the lands about you? The treasure is likely to be your death, though the dragon is no more!\"\n\nBut Thorin was not moved. \"Winter and snow will bite both men and elves,\" he said, \"and they may find their dwelling in the waste grievous to bear. With my friends behind them and winter upon them, they will perhaps be in softer mood to parley with.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That night Bilbo made up his mind. The sky was black and moonless. As soon as it was full dark, he went to a corner of an inner chamber just within the gate and drew from his bundle a rope, and also the Arkenstone wrapped in a rag. Then he climbed to the top of the wall. Only Bombur was there, for it was his turn to watch, and the dwarves kept only one watchman at a time.\n\n\"It is mighty cold!\" said Bombur. \"I wish we could have afire up here as they have in the camp!\"\n\n\"It is warm enough inside,\" said Bilbo.\n\n\"I daresay; but I am bound here till midnight,\" grumbled the fat dwarf. \"A sorry business altogether. Not that I venture to disagree with Thorin, may his beard grow ever longer; yet he was ever a dwarf with a stiff neck.\"\n\n\"Not as stiff as my legs,\" said Bilbo. \"I am tired of stairs and stone passages. I would give a good deal for the feel of grass at my toes.\"\n\n\"I would give a good deal for the feel of a strong drink in my throat, and fora soft bed after a good supper!\"\n\n\"I can't give you those, while the siege is going on.\n\nBut it is long since I watched, and I will take your turn for you, if you like. There is no sleep in me tonight.\"\n\n\"You area good fellow, Mr. Baggins, and I will take your offer kindly. If there should be anything to note, rouse me first, mind you! I will lie in the inner chamber to the left, not faraway.\"\n\n\"Off you go!\" said Bilbo. \"I will wake you at midnight, and you can wake the next watchman.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "As soon as Bombur had gone, Bilbo put on his ring, fastened his rope, slipped down over the wall, and was gone." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He had about five hours before him. Bombur would sleep (he could sleep at anytime, and ever since the adventure in the forest he was always trying to recapture the beautiful dreams he had then); and all the others were busy with Thorin. It was unlikely that any, even Fili or Kili, would come out on the wall until it was their turn.\n\nIt was very dark, and the road after awhile, when he left the newly made path and climbed down towards the lower course of the stream, was strange to him. At last he came to the bend where he had to cross the water, if he was to make for the camp, as he wished. The bed of the stream was there shallow but already broad, and fording it in the dark was not easy for the little hobbit. He was nearly across when he missed his footing on around stone and fell into the cold water with a splash. He had barely scrambled out on the far bank, shivering and spluttering, when up came elves in the gloom with bright lanterns and searched for the cause of the noise.\n\n\"That was no fish!\" one said. \"There is a spy about. Hide your lights! They will help him more than us, if it is that queer little creature that is said to be their servant.\"\n\n\"Servant, indeed!\" snorted Bilbo; and in the middle of his snort he sneezed loudly, and the elves immediately gathered towards the sound.\n\n\"Let's have alight!\" he said. \"I am here, if you want me!\" and he slipped off his ring, and popped from behind a rock.\n\nThey seized him quickly, in spite of their surprise. \"Who are you? Are you the dwarves' hobbit? What are you doing? How did you get so far past our sentinels?\" they asked one after another." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am Mr. Bilbo Baggins,\" he answered, \"companion of Thorin, if you want to know. I know your king well by sight, though perhaps he doesn't know me to look at. But Bard will remember me, and it is Bard I particularly want to see.\"\n\n\"Indeed!\" said they, \"and what maybe your business?\"\n\n\"Whatever it is, it's my own, my good elves. But if you wish ever to get back to your own woods from this cold cheerless place,\" he answered shivering, \"you will take me along quick to afire, where I can dry-and then you will let me speak to your chiefs as quick as maybe. I have only an hour or two to spare.\"\n\nThat is how it came about that some two hours after his escape from the Gate, Bilbo was sitting beside a warm fire in front of a large tent, and there sat too, gazing curiously at him, both the Elvenking and Bard. A hobbit in elvish armour, partly wrapped in an old blanket, was something new to them.\n\n\"Really you know,\" Bilbo was saying in his best business manner, \"things are impossible. Personally I am tired of the whole affair. I wish I was back in the West in my own home, where folk are more reasonable. But I have an interest in this matter-one fourteenth share, to be precise, according to a letter, which fortunately I believe I have kept.\" He drew from a pocket in his old jacket (which he still wore over his mail), crumpled and much folded, Thorin's letter that had been put under the clock on his mantelpiece in May!\n\n\"A share in the profits, mind you,\" he went on. \"I am aware of that. Personally I am only too ready to consider all your claims carefully, and deduct what is right from the total before putting in my own claim. However you don't know Thorin Oakenshield as well as I do now. I assure you, he is quite ready to sit on a heap of gold and starve, as long as you sit here.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well, let him!\" said Bard. \"Such a fool deserves to starve.\"\n\n\"Quite so,\" said Bilbo. \"I see your point of view. At the same time winter is coming on fast. Before long you will behaving snow and whatnot, and supplies will be difficult-even for elves I imagine. Also there will be other difficulties. You have not heard of Dain and the dwarves of the Iron Hills?\"\n\n\"We have, along time ago; but what has he got to do with us?\" asked the king.\n\n\"I thought as much. I see I have some information you have not got. Dain, I may tell you, is now less than two days' march off, and has at least five hundred grim dwarves with him-a good many of them have had experience in the dreadful dwarf and goblin wars, of which you have no doubt heard. When they arrive there maybe serious trouble.\"\n\n\"Why do you tell us this? Are you betraying your friends, or are you threatening us?\" asked Bard grimly.\n\n\"My dear Bard!\" squeaked Bilbo. \"Don't be so hasty! I never met such suspicious folk! I am merely trying to avoid trouble for all concerned. Now I will make you an offer! !\"\n\n\"Let us hear it!\" they said.\n\n\"You may see it!\" said he. \"It is this!\" and he drew forth the Arkenstone, and threw away the wrapping.\n\nThe Elvenking himself, whose eyes were used to things of wonder and beauty, stood up in amazement. Even Bard gazed marvelling at it in silence. It was as if a globe had been filled with moonlight and hung before them in a net woven of the glint of frosty stars." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"This is the Arkenstone of Thrain,\" said Bilbo, \"the Heart of the Mountain; and it is also the heart of Thorin. He values it above a river of gold. I give it to you. It will aid you in your bargaining.\" Then Bilbo, not without a shudder, not without a glance of longing, handed the marvellous stone to Bard, and he held it in his hand, as though dazed.\n\n\"But how is it yours to give?\" he asked at last with an effort.\n\n\"O well!\" said the hobbit uncomfortably. \"It isn't exactly; but, well, I am willing to let it stand against all my claim, don't you know. I maybe a burglar-or so they say: personally I never really felt like one-but I am an honest one, I hope, more or less. Anyway I am going back now, and the dwarves can do what they like tome. I hope you will find it useful.\"\n\nThe Elvenking looked at Bilbo with anew wonder. \"Bilbo Baggins!\" he said. \"You are more worthy to wear the armour of elf-princes than many that have looked more comely in it. But I wonder if Thorin Oakenshield will see it so. I have more knowledge of dwarves in general than you have perhaps. I advise you to remain with us, and here you shall be honoured and thrice welcome.\"\n\n\"Thank you very much I am sure,\" said Bilbo with a bow. \"But I don't think I ought to leave my friends like this, after all we have gone through together. And I promised to wake old Bombur at midnight, too! Really I must be going, and quickly.\"\n\nNothing they could say would stop him; so an escort was provided for him, and as he went both the king and Bard saluted him with honour. As they passed through the camp an old man, wrapped in a dark cloak, rose from a tent door where he was sitting and came towards them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well done! Mr. Baggins!\" he said, clapping Bilbo on the back. \"There is always more about you than anyone expects!\" It was Gandalf.\n\nFor the first time for many a day Bilbo was really delighted. But there was no time for all the questions that he immediately wished to ask.\n\n\"All in good time!\" said Gandalf. \"Things are drawing towards the end now, unless I am mistaken. There is an unpleasant time just in front of you; but keep your heart up! You may come through all right. There is news brewing that even the ravens have not heard. Goodnight!\"\n\nPuzzled but cheered, Bilbo hurried on. He was guided to a safe ford and set across dry, and then he said farewell to the elves and climbed carefully back towards the Gate. Great weariness began to come over him; but it was well before midnight when he clambered up the rope again-it was still where he had left it. He untied it and hid it, and then he sat down on the wall and wondered anxiously what would happen next.\n\nAt midnight he woke up Bombur; and then in turn rolled himself up in his corner, without listening to the old dwarf's thanks (which he felt he had hardly earned). He was soon fast asleep forgetting all his worries till the morning. As a matter of fact he was dreaming of eggs and bacon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Next day the trumpets rang early in the camp. Soon a single runner was seen hurrying along the narrow path. At a distance he stood and hailed them, asking whether Thorin would now listen to another embassy, since new tidings had come to hand, and matters were changed.\n\n\"That will be Dain!\" said Thorin when he heard. \"They will have got wind of his coming. I thought that would alter their mood! Bid them come few in number and weaponless, and I will hear,\" he called to the messenger.\n\nAbout midday the banners of the Forest and the Lake were seen to be borne forth again. A company of twenty was approaching. At the beginning of the narrow way they laid aside sword and spear, and came on towards the Gate. Wondering, the dwarves saw that among them were both Bard and the Elvenking, before whom an old man wrapped in cloak and hood bore a strong casket of iron-bound wood.\n\n\"Hail Thorin!\" said Bard. \"Are you still of the same mind?\"\n\n\"My mind does not change with the rising and setting of a few suns,\" answered Thorin. \"Did you come to ask me idle questions? Still the elf-host has not departed as I bade! Till then you come in vain to bargain with me.\"\n\n\"Is there then nothing for which you would yield any of your gold?\"\n\n\"Nothing that you or your friends have to offer.\"\n\n\"What of the Arkenstone of Thrain?\" said he, and at the same moment the old man opened the casket and held aloft the jewel. The light leapt from his hand, bright and white in the morning.\n\nThen Thorin was stricken dumb with amazement and confusion. No one spoke fora long while." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Thorin at length broke the silence, and his voice was thick with wrath. \"That stone was my father's, and is mine,\" he said. \"Why should I purchase my own?\" But wonder overcame him and he added: \"But how came you by the heirloom of my house-if there is need to ask such a question of thieves?\"\n\n\"We are not thieves,\" Bard answered. \"Your own we will giveback in return for our own.\"\n\n\"How came you by it?\" shouted Thorin in gathering rage.\n\n\"I gave it to them!\" squeaked Bilbo, who was peering over the wall, by now in a dreadful fright.\n\n\"You! You!\" cried Thorin, turning upon him and grasping him with both hands. \"You miserable hobbit! You undersized-burglar!\" he shouted at a loss for words, and he shook poor Bilbo like a rabbit.\n\n\"By the beard of Durin! I wish I had Gandalf here! Curse him for his choice of you! May his beard wither! As for you I will throw you to the rocks!\" he cried and lifted Bilbo in his arms.\n\n\"Stay! Your wish is granted!\" said a voice. The old man with the casket threw aside his hood and cloak. \" Here is Gandalf! And none too soon it seems. If you don't like my Burglar, please don't damage him.\n\nPut him down, and listen first to what he has to say!\"\n\n\"You all seem in league!\" said Thorin dropping Bilbo on the top of the wall. \"Never again will I have dealings with any wizard or his friends. What have you to say, you descendant of rats?\"\n\n\"Dear me! Dear me!\" said Bilbo. \"I am sure this is all very uncomfortable. You may remember saying that I might choose my own fourteenth share? Perhaps I took it too literally-I have been told that dwarves are sometimes politer in word than indeed. The time was, all the same, when you seemed to think that I had been of some service. Descendant of rats, indeed! Is this all the service of you and your family that I was promised, Thorin? Take it that I have disposed of my share as I wished, and let it goat that!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I will,\" said Thorin grimly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And I will let you goat that-and may we never meet again!\" Then he turned and spoke over the wall. \"I am betrayed,\" he said. \" It was rightly guessed that I could not forbear to redeem the Arkenstone, the treasure of my house. For it I will give one fourteenth share of the hoard in silver and gold, setting aside the gems; but that shall be accounted the promised share of this traitor, and with that reward he shall depart, and you can divide it as you will. He will get little enough, I doubt not. Take him, if you wish him to live; and no friendship of mine goes with him.\n\n\"Get down now to your friends!\" he said to Bilbo, \"or I will throw you down.\"\n\n\"What about the gold and silver?\" asked Bilbo. \"That shall follow after, as can be arranged,\" said he. \"Get down!\"\n\n\"Until then we keep the stone,\" cried Bard.\n\n\"You are not making a very splendid figure as King under the Mountain,\" said Gandalf. \"But things may change yet.\"\n\n\"They may indeed,\" said Thorin. And already, so strong was the bewilderment of the treasure upon him, he was pondering whether by the help of Dain he might not recapture the Arkenstone and withhold the share of the reward.\n\nAnd so Bilbo was swung down from the wall, and departed with nothing for all his trouble, except the armour which Thorin had given him already. More than one of the dwarves in their hearts felt shame and pity at his going.\n\n\"Farewell!\" he cried to them. \"We may meet again as friends.\"\n\n\"Be off!\" called Thorin. \"You have mail upon you, which was made by my folk, and is too good for you. It cannot be pierced by arrows; but if you do not hasten, I will sting your miserable feet. So be swift!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Not so hasty!\" said Bard. \"We will give you until tomorrow. At noon we will return, and see if you have brought from the hoard the portion that is to beset against the stone. If that is done without deceit, then we will depart, and the elf-host will go back to the Forest. In the meanwhile farewell!\"\n\nWith that they went back to the camp; but Thorin sent messengers by Roäc telling Dain of what had passed, and bidding him come with wary speed.\n\nThat day passed and the night. The next day the wind shifted west, and the air was dark and gloomy. The morning was still early when a cry was heard in the camp. Runners came into report that a host of dwarves had appeared round the eastern spur of the Mountain and was now hastening to Dale. Dain had come. He had hurried on through the night, and so had come upon them sooner than they had expected. Each one of his folk was clad in a hauberk of steel mail that hung to his knees, and his legs were covered with hose of a fine and flexible metal mesh, the secret of whose making was possessed by Dain's people. The dwarves are exceedingly strong for their height, but most of these were strong even for dwarves. In battle they wielded heavy two-handed mattocks; but each of them had also a short broadsword at his side and a roundshield slung at his back. Their beards were forked and plaited and thrust into their belts. Their caps were of iron and they were shod with iron, and their faces were grim.\n\nTrumpets called men and elves to arms. Before long the dwarves could be seen coming up the valley at a great pace. They halted between the river and the eastern spur; but a few held on their way, and crossing the river drew near the camp; and there they laid down their weapons and held up their hands in sign of peace. Bard went out to meet them, and with him went Bilbo." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We are sent from Dain son of Nain,\" they said when questioned. \"We are hastening to our kinsmen in the Mountain, since we learn that the kingdom of old is renewed. But who are you that sit in the plain as foes before defended walls?\" This, of course, in the polite and rather old-fashioned language of such occasions, meant simply: \"You have no business here. We are going on, so make way or we shall fight you!\" They meant to push on between the Mountain and the loop of the river; for the narrow land there did not seem to be strongly guarded.\n\nBard, of course, refused to allow the dwarves to go straight onto the Mountain. He was determined to wait until the gold and silver had been brought out in exchange for the Arkenstone; for he did not believe that this would be done, if once the fortress was manned with so large and warlike a company. They had brought with them a great store of supplies; for the dwarves can carry very heavy burdens, and nearly all of Dain's folk, in spite of their rapid march, bore huge packs on their backs in addition to their weapons. They would stand a siege for weeks, and by that time yet more dwarves might come, and yet more, for Thorin had many relatives. Also they would be able to reopen and guard some other gate, so that the besiegers would have to encircle the whole mountain; and for that they had not sufficient numbers.\n\nThese were, in fact, precisely their plans (for the raven-messengers had been busy between Thorin and Dain); but for the moment the way was barred, so after angry words the dwarf-messengers retired muttering in their beards. Bard then sent messengers at once to the Gate; but they found no gold or payment. Arrows came forth as soon as they were within shot, and they hastened back in dismay. In the camp all was now astir, as if for battle; for the dwarves of Dain were advancing along the eastern bank." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Fools!\" laughed Bard, \"to come thus beneath the Mountain's arm! They do not understand war above ground, whatever they may know of battle in the mines. There are many of our archers and spearmen now hidden in the rocks upon their right flank. Dwarf-mail maybe good, but they will soon be hard put to it. Let us set on them now from both sides, before they are fully rested!\"\n\nBut the Elvenking said: \"Long will I tarry, ere I begin this war for gold. The dwarves cannot pass us, unless we will, or do anything that we cannot mark. Let us hope still for something that will bring reconciliation. Our advantage in numbers will be enough, if in the end it must come to unhappy blows.\"\n\nBut he reckoned without the dwarves. The knowledge that the Arkenstone was in the hands of the besiegers burned in their thoughts; also they guessed the hesitation of Bard and his friends, and resolved to strike while they debated.\n\nSuddenly without a signal they sprang silently forward to attack. Bows twanged and arrows whistled; battle was about to be joined.\n\nStill more suddenly a darkness came on with dreadful swiftness! A black cloud hurried over the sky. Winter thunder on a wild wind rolled roaring up and rumbled in the Mountain, and lightning lit its peak. And beneath the thunder another blackness could be seen whirling forward; but it did not come with the wind, it came from the North, like avast cloud of birds, so dense that no light could be seen between their wings.\n\n\"Halt!\" cried Gandalf, who appeared suddenly, and stood alone, with arms uplifted, between the advancing dwarves and the ranks awaiting them. \"Halt!\" he called in a voice like thunder, and his staff blazed forthwith a flash like the lightning. \"Dread has come upon you all! Alas! it has come more swiftly than I guessed. The Goblins are upon you! Bolg* of the North is coming, O Dain! whose father you slew in Moria. Behold! the bats are above his army like a sea of locusts. They ride upon wolves and Wargs are in their train!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Amazement and confusion fell upon them all. Even as Gandalf had been speaking the darkness grew. The dwarves halted and gazed at the sky. The elves cried outwith many voices.\n\n\"Come!\" called Gandalf. \"There is yet time for council. Let Dain son of Nain come swiftly to us!\"\n\nSo began a battle that none had expected; and it was called the Battle of Five Armies, and it was very terrible. Upon one side were the Goblins and the Wild Wolves, and upon the other were Elves and Men and Dwarves. This is how it fell out. Ever since the fall of the Great Goblin of the Misty Mountains the hatred of their race for the dwarves had been rekindled to fury. Messengers had passed to and fro between all their cities, colonies and strongholds; for they resolved now to win the dominion of the North. Tidings they had gathered in secret ways; and in all the mountains there was a forging and an arming. Then they marched and gathered by hill and valley, going ever by tunnel or under dark, until around and beneath the great mountain Gundabad of the North, where was their capital, avast host was assembled ready to sweep down in time of storm unawares\n\nupon the South. Then they learned of the death of Smaug, and joy was in their hearts; and they hastened night after night through the mountains, and came thus at last on a sudden from the North hard on the heels of Dain. Not even the ravens knew of their coming until they came out in the broken lands which divided the Lonely Mountain from the hills behind. How much Gandalf knew cannot be said, but it is plain that he had not expected this sudden assault.\n\nThis is the plan that he made in council with the Elven-king and with Bard; and with Dain, for the dwarf-lord now joined them: the Goblins were the foes of all, and at their coming all other quarrels were forgotten. Their only hope was to lure the goblins into the valley between the arms of the Mountain; and themselves to man the great spurs that struck south and east. Yet this would be perilous, if the goblins were insufficient numbers to overrun the Mountain itself, and so attack them also from behind and above; but there was no time to make any other plan, or to summon any help." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Soon the thunder passed, rolling away to the South-East; but the bat-cloud came, flying lower, over the shoulder of the Mountain, and whirled above them shutting out the light and filling them with dread.\n\n\"To the Mountain!\" called Bard. \"To the Mountain! Let us take our places while there is yet time!\"\n\nOn the Southern spur, in its lower slopes and in the rocks at its feet, the Elves were set; on the Eastern spur were men and dwarves. But Bard and some of the nimblest of men and elves climbed to the height of the Eastern shoulder to gain a view to the North. Soon they could seethe lands before the Mountain's feet black with a hurrying multitude. Erelong the vanguard swirled round the spur's end and came rushing into Dale. These were the swiftest wolf-riders, and already their cries and howls rent the air afar. A few brave men were strung before them to make a feint of resistance, and many there fell before the rest drew back and fled to either side. As Gandalf had hoped, the goblin army had gathered behind the resisted vanguard, and poured now in rage into the valley, driving wildly up between the arms of the Mountain, seeking for the foe. Their banners were countless, black and red, and they came on like a tide in fury and disorder.\n\nIt was a terrible battle. The most dreadful of all Bilbo's experiences, and the one which at the time he hated most-which is to say it was the one he was most proud of, and most fond of recalling long afterwards, although he was quite unimportant in it. Actually I may say he put on his ring early in the business, and vanished from sight, if not from all danger. A magic ring of that sort is not a complete protection in a goblin charge, nor does it stop flying arrows and wild spears; but it does help in getting out of the way, and it prevents your head from being specially chosen fora sweeping stroke by a goblin swordsman." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The elves were the first to charge. Their hatred for the goblins is cold and bitter. Their spears and swords shone in the gloom with agleam of chill flame, so deadly was the wrath of the hands that held them. As soon as the host of their enemies was dense in the valley, they sent against it a shower of arrows, and each flickered as it fled as if with stinging fire. Behind the arrows a thousand of their spearmen leapt down and charged. The yells were deafening. The rocks were stained black with goblin blood.\n\nJust as the goblins were recovering from the onslaught and the elf-charge was halted, there rose from across the valley a deep-throated roar. With cries of'Moria!\" and'Dain, Dain!\" the dwarves of the Iron Hills plunged in, wielding their mattocks, upon the other side; and beside them came the men of the Lake with long swords.\n\nPanic came upon the Goblins; and even as they turned to meet this new attack, the elves charged again with renewed numbers. Already many of the goblins were flying back down the river to escape from the trap; and many of their own wolves were turning upon them and rending the dead and the wounded. Victory seemed at hand, when a cry rang out on the heights above.\n\nGoblins had scaled the Mountain from the other side and already many were on the slopes above the Gate, and others were streaming down recklessly, heedless of those that fell screaming from cliff and precipice, to attack the spurs from above. Each of these could be reached bypaths that ran down from the main mass of the Mountain in the centre; and the defenders had too few to bar the way for long. Victory now vanished from hope. They had only stemmed the first onslaught of the black tide." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Day drew on. The goblins gathered again in the valley. There a host of Wargs came ravening and with them came the bodyguard of Bolg, goblins of huge size with scimitars of steel. Soon actual darkness was coming into a stormy sky; while still the great bats swirled about the heads and ears of elves and men, or fastened vampire-like on the stricken. Now Bard was fighting to defend the Eastern spur, and yet giving slowly back; and the elf-lords were at bay about their king upon the southern arm, near to the watch-post on Ravenhill.\n\nSuddenly there was a great shout, and from the Gate came a trumpet call. They had forgotten Thorin! Part of the wall, moved by levers, fell outward with a crash into the pool. Out leapt the King under the Mountain, and his companions followed him. Hood and cloak were gone; they were in shining armour, and red light leapt from their eyes. In the gloom the great dwarf gleamed like gold in a dying fire.\n\nRocks were hurled down from on high by the goblins above; but they held on, leapt down to the falls' foot, and rushed forward to battle. Wolf and rider fell or fled before them. Thorin wielded his axe with mighty strokes, and nothing seemed to harm him.\n\n\"Tome! Tome! Elves and Men! Tome! O my kinsfolk!\" he cried, and his voice shook like a horn in the valley.\n\nDown, heedless of order, rushed all the dwarves of Dain to his help. Down too came many of the Lake-men, for Bard could not restrain them; and out upon the other side came many of the spearmen of the elves. Once again the goblins were stricken in the valley; and they were piled in heaps till Dale was dark and hideous with their corpses. The Wargs were scattered and Thorin drove right against the bodyguard of Bolg. But he could not pierce their ranks." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Already behind him among the goblin dead lay many men and many dwarves, and many a fair elf that should have lived yet long ages merrily in the wood." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And as the valley widened his onset grew ever slower. His numbers were too few. His flanks were unguarded. Soon the attackers were attacked, and they were forced into a great ring, facing every way, hemmed all about with goblins and wolves returning to the assault. The bodyguard of Bolg came howling against them, and drove in upon their ranks like waves upon cliffs of sand. Their friends could not help them, for the assault from the Mountain was renewed with redoubled force, and upon either sidemen and elves were being slowly beaten down.\n\nOn all this Bilbo looked with misery. He had taken his stand on Ravenhill among the Elves-partly because there was more chance of escape from that point, and partly (with the more Tookish part of his mind) because if he was going to be in a last desperate stand, he preferred on the whole to defend the Elvenking. Gandalf, too, I may say, was there, sitting on the ground as if in deep thought, preparing, I suppose, some last blast of magic before the end.\n\nThat did not seem far off. \"It will not belong now,\" thought Bilbo, \"before the goblins win the Gate, and we are all slaughtered or driven down and captured. Really it is enough to make one weep, after all one has gone through. I would rather old Smaug had been left with all the wretched treasure, than that these vile creatures should get it, and poor old Bombur, and Balin and Fili and Kili and all the rest come to a bad end; and Bard too, and the Lake-men and the merry elves. Misery me! I have heard songs of many battles, and I have always understood that defeat maybe glorious. It seems very uncomfortable, not to say distressing. I wish I was well out of it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The clouds were torn by the wind, and a red sunset slashed the West. Seeing the sudden gleam in the gloom Bilbo looked round. He gave a great cry: he had seen a sight that made his heart leap, dark shapes small yet majestic against the distant glow.\n\n\"The Eagles! The Eagles!\" he shouted. \"The Eagles are coming!\"\n\nBilbo's eyes were seldom wrong. The eagles were coming down the wind, line after line, in such a host as must have gathered from all the eyries of the North.\n\n\"The Eagles! the Eagles!\" Bilbo cried, dancing and waving his arms. If the elves could not see him they could hear him. Soon they too took up the cry, and it echoed across the valley. Many wondering eyes looked up, though as yet nothing could be seen except from the southern shoulders of the Mountain.\n\n\"The Eagles!\" cried Bilbo once more, but at that momenta stone hurtling from above smote heavily on his helm, and he fell with a crash and knew no more." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When Bilbo came to himself, he was literally by himself. He was lying on the flat stones of Ravenhill, and no one was near. A cloudless day, but cold, was broad above him. He was shaking, and as chilled as stone, but his head burned with fire.\n\n\"Now I wonder what has happened?\" he said to himself. \"At any rate I am not yet one of the fallen heroes; but I suppose there is still time enough for that!\"\n\nHe sat up painfully. Looking into the valley he could see no living goblins. After awhile as his head cleared a little, he thought he could see elves moving in the rocks below. He rubbed his eyes. Surely there was a camp still in the plain some distance off; and there was a coming and going about the Gate? Dwarves seemed to be busy removing the wall. But all was deadly still. There was no call and no echo of a song. Sorrow seemed to be in the air.\n\n\"Victory after all, I suppose!\" he said, feeling his aching head. \"Well, it seems a very gloomy business.\"\n\nSuddenly he was aware of a man climbing up and coming towards him.\n\n\"Hullo there!\" he called with a shaky voice. \"Hullo there! What news?\"\n\n\"What voice is it that speaks among the stones?\" said the man halting and peering about him not far from where Bilbo sat.\n\nThen Bilbo remembered his ring! \"Well I'm blessed!\" said he. \"This invisibility has its drawbacks after all. Otherwise I suppose I might have spent a warm and comfortable night in bed!\"\n\n\"It's me, Bilbo Baggins, companion of Thorin!\" he cried, hurriedly taking off the ring." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"It is well that I have found you!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said the man striding forward. \"You are needed and we have looked for you long. You would have been numbered among the dead, who are many, if Gandalf the wizard had not said that your voice was last heard in this place. I have been sent to look here for the last time. Are you much hurt?\"\n\n\"A nasty knock on the head, I think,\" said Bilbo. \"But I have a helm and a hard skull. All the same I feel sick and my legs are like straws.\"\n\n\"I will carry you down to the camp in the valley,\" said the man, and picked him lightly up.\n\nThe man was swift and sure-footed. It was not long before Bilbo was set down before a tent in Dale; and there stood Gandalf, with his arm in a sling. Even the wizard had not escaped without a wound; and there were few unharmed in all the host.\n\nWhen Gandalf saw Bilbo, he was delighted. \"Baggins!\" he exclaimed. \"Well I never! Alive after all-I am glad! I began to wonder if even your luck would see you through! A terrible business, and it nearly was disastrous. But other news can wait. Come!\" he said more gravely. \"You are called for;\" and leading the hobbit he took him within the tent.\n\n\"Hail! Thorin,\" he said as he entered. \"I have brought him.\"\n\nThere indeed lay Thorin Oakenshield, wounded with many wounds, and his rent armour and notched axe were cast upon the floor. He looked up as Bilbo came beside him.\n\n\"Farewell, good thief,\" he said. \"I go now to the halls of waiting to sit beside my fathers, until the world is renewed. Since I leave now all gold and silver, and go where it is of little worth, I wish to part in friendship from you, and I would take back my words and deeds at the Gate.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bilbo knelt on one knee filled with sorrow. \"Farewell, King under the Mountain!\" he said. \"This is a bitter adventure, if it must end so; and not a mountain of gold can amend it. Yet I am glad that I have shared in your perils-that has been more than any Baggins deserves.\"\n\n\"No!\" said Thorin. \"There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world. But sad or merry, I must leave it now. Farewell!\"\n\nThen Bilbo turned away, and he went by himself, and sat alone wrapped in a blanket, and, whether you believe it or not, he wept until his eyes were red and his voice was hoarse. He was a kindly little soul. Indeed it was long before he had the heart to make a joke again. \"A mercy it is,\" he said at last to himself, \"that I woke up when I did. I wish Thorin were living, but I am glad that we parted in kindness. You area fool, Bilbo Baggins, and you made a great mess of that business with the stone; and there was a battle, in spite of all your efforts to buy peace and quiet, but I suppose you can hardly be blamed for that.\"\n\nAll that had happened after he was stunned, Bilbo learned later; but it gave him more sorrow than joy, and he was now weary of his adventure. He was aching in his bones for the homeward journey. That, however, was a little delayed, so in the meantime I will tell something of events. The Eagles had long had suspicion of the goblins' mustering; from their watchfulness the movements in the mountains could not be altogether hid. So they too had gathered in great numbers, under the great Eagle of the Misty Mountains; and at length smelling battle from afar they had come speeding down the gale in the nick of time. They it was who dislodged the goblins from the mountain-slopes, casting them over precipices, or driving them down shrieking and bewildered among their foes. It was not long before they had freed the Lonely Mountain, and elves and men on either side of the valley could come at last to the help of the battle below." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But even with the Eagles they were still outnumbered. In that last hour Beorn himself had appeared-no one knew how or from where. He came alone, and in bear's shape; and he seemed to have grown almost to giant-size in his wrath.\n\nThe roar of his voice was like drums and guns; and he tossed wolves and goblins from his path like straws and feathers. He fell upon their rear, and broke like a clap of thunder through the ring. The dwarves were making a standstill about their lords upon a low rounded hill. Then Beorn stooped and lifted Thorin, who had fallen pierced with spears, and bore him out of the fray.\n\nSwiftly he returned and his wrath was redoubled, so that nothing could withstand him, and no weapon seemed to bite upon him. He scattered the bodyguard, and pulled down Bolg himself and crushed him. Then dismay fell on the Goblins and they fled in all directions. But weariness left their enemies with the coming of new hope, and they pursued them closely, and prevented most of them from escaping where they could. They drove many of them into the Running River, and such as fled south or west they hunted into the marshes about the Forest River; and there the greater part of the last fugitives perished, while those that came hardly to the Wood-elves' realm were there slain, or drawn into die deep in the trackless dark of Mirkwood. Songs have said that three parts of the goblin warriors of the North perished on that day, and the mountains had peace for many a year.\n\nVictory had been assured before the fall of night; but the pursuit was still on foot, when Bilbo returned to the camp; and not many were in the valley save the more grievously wounded." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Where are the Eagles?\" he asked Gandalf that evening, as he lay wrapped in many warm blankets.\n\n\"Some are in the hunt,\" said the wizard, \"but most have gone back to their eyries. They would not stay here, and departed with the first light of morning. Dain has crowned their chief with gold, and sworn friendship with them forever.\"\n\n\"I am sorry. I mean, I should have liked to see them again,\" said Bilbo sleepily; \"perhaps I shall see them on the way home. I suppose I shall be going home soon?\"\n\n\"As soon as you like,\" said the wizard.\n\nActually it was some days before Bilbo really set out. They buried Thorin deep beneath the Mountain, and Bard laid the Arkenstone upon his breast.\n\n\"There let it lie till the Mountain falls!\" he said. \"May it bring good fortune to all his folk that dwell hereafter!\"\n\nUpon his tomb the Elvenking then laid Orcrist, the elvish sword that had been taken from Thorin in captivity. It is said in songs that it gleamed ever in the dark if foes approached, and the fortress of the dwarves could not betaken by surprise. There now Dain son of Nain took up his abode, and he became King under the Mountain, and in time many other dwarves gathered to his throne in the ancient halls. Of the twelve companions of Thorin, ten remained. Fili and Kili had fallen defending him with shield and body, for he was their mother's elder brother. The others remained with Dain; for Dain dealt his treasure well.\n\nThere was, of course, no longer any question of dividing the hoard in such shares as had been planned, to Balin and Dwalin, and Dori and Nori and Ori, and Oin and Gloin, and Bifur and Bofur and Bombur-or to Bilbo. Yet a fourteenth share of all the silver and gold, wrought and unwrought, was given up to Bard; for Dain said: \"We will honour the agreement of the dead, and he has now the Arkenstone in his keeping.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Even a fourteenth share was wealth exceedingly great, greater than that of many mortal kings. From that treasure Bard sent much gold to the Master of Lake-town; and he rewarded his followers and friends freely. To the Elvenking he gave the emeralds of Girion, such jewels as he most loved, which Dain had restored to him.\n\nTo Bilbo he said: \"This treasure is as much yours as it is mine; though old agreements cannot stand, since so many have a claim in its winning and defence. Yet even though you were willing to lay aside all your claim, I should wish that the words of Thorin, of which he repented, should not prove true: that we should give you little. I would reward you most richly of all.\"\n\n\"Very kind of you,\" said Bilbo. \"But really it is a relief tome. How on earth should I have got all that treasure home without war and murder all along the way, I don't know. And I don't know what I should have done with it when I got home. I am sure it is better in your hands.\"\n\nIn the end he would only take two small chests, one filled with silver, and the other with gold, such as one strong pony could carry. \"That will be quite as much as I can manage,\" said he.\n\nAt last the time came for him to say good-bye to his friends. \"Farewell, Balin!\" he said; \"and farewell, Dwalin; and farewell Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur! May your beards never grow thin!\" And turning towards the Mountain he added: \"Farewell Thorin Oakenshield! And Fili and Kili! May your memory never fade!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then the dwarves bowed low before their Gate, but words stuck in their throats. \"Good-bye and good luck, wherever you fare!\" said Balin at last. \"If ever you visit us again, when our halls are made fair once more, then the feast shall indeed be splendid!\"\n\n\"If ever you are passing my way,\" said Bilbo, \"don't wait to knock! Tea is at four; but any of you are welcome at anytime!\"\n\nThen he turned away.\n\nThe elf-host was on the march; and if it was sadly lessened, yet many were glad, for now the northern world would be merrier for many along day. The dragon was dead, and the goblins overthrown, and their hearts looked forward after winter to a spring of joy.\n\nGandalf and Bilbo rode behind the Elvenking, and beside them strode Beorn, once again in man's shape, and he laughed and sang in aloud voice upon the road. So they went on until they drew near to the borders of Mirkwood, to the north of the place where the Forest River ran out. Then they halted, for the wizard and Bilbo would not enter the wood, even though the king bade them stay awhile in his halls. They intended to go along the edge of the forest, and round its northern end in the waste that lay between it and the beginning of the Grey Mountains. It was along and cheerless road, but now that the goblins were crushed, it seemed safer to them than the dreadful pathways under the trees. Moreover Beorn was going that way too.\n\n\"Farewell! O Elvenking!\" said Gandalf. \"Merry be the greenwood, while the world is yet young! And merry be all your folk!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Farewell! O Gandalf!\" said the king. \"May you ever appear where you are most needed and least expected! The oftener you appear in my halls the better shall I be pleased!\"\n\n\"I beg of you,\" said Bilbo stammering and standing on one foot, \"to accept this gift!\" and he brought out a necklace of silver and pearls that Dain had given him at their parting.\n\n\"In what way have I earned such a gift, O hobbit?\" said the king.\n\n\"Well, er, I thought, don't you know,\" said Bilbo rather confused, \"that, er, some little return should be made for your, er, hospitality. I mean even a burglar has his feelings. I have drunk much of your wine and eaten much of your bread.\"\n\n\"I will take your gift, O Bilbo the Magnificent!\" said the king gravely. \"And I name you elf-friend and blessed. May your shadow never grow less (or stealing would be too easy)! Farewell!\"\n\nThen the elves turned towards the Forest, and Bilbo started on his long road home.\n\nHe had many hardships and adventures before he got back. The Wild was still the Wild, and there were many other things in it in those days beside goblins; but he was well guided and well guarded-the wizard was with him, and Beorn for much of the way-and he was never in great danger again. Anyway by midwinter Gandalf and Bilbo had come all the way back, along both edges of the Forest, to the doors of Beorn's house; and therefor awhile they both stayed. Yule-tide was warm and merry there; and men came from far and wide to feast at Beorn's bidding. The goblins of the Misty Mountains were now few and terrified, and hidden in the deepest holes they could find; and the Wargs had vanished from the woods, so that men went abroad without fear. Beorn indeed became a great chief afterwards in those regions and ruled a wide land between the mountains and the wood; and it is said that for many generations the men of his line had the power of taking bear's shape, and some were grim men and bad, but most were in heart like Beorn, if less in size and strength. In their day the last goblins were hunted from the Misty Mountains and anew peace came over the edge of the Wild." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was spring, and a fair one with mild weathers and a bright sun, before Bilbo and Gandalf took their leave at last of Beorn, and though he longed for home, Bilbo left with regret, for the flowers of the gardens of Beorn were in springtime no less marvellous than in high summer.\n\nAt last they came up the long road, and reached the very pass where the goblins had captured them before. But they came to that high point at morning, and looking backward they saw a white sun shining over the outstretched lands. There behind lay Mirkwood, blue in the distance, and darkly green at the nearer edge even in the spring. There faraway was the Lonely Mountain on the edge of eyesight. On its highest peak snow yet unmelted was gleaming pale.\n\n\"So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending!\" said Bilbo, and he turned his back on his adventure. The Tookish part was getting very tired, and the Baggins was daily getting stronger. \"I wish now only to be in my own armchair!\" he said." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was on May the First that the two came back at last to the brink of the valley of Rivendell, where stood the Last (or the First) Homely House. Again it was evening, their ponies were tired, especially the one that carried the baggage; and they all felt in need of rest. As they rode down the steep path, Bilbo heard the elves still singing in the trees, as if they had not stopped since he left; and as soon as the riders came down into the lower glades of the wood they burst into a song of much the same kind as before. This is something like it:\n\nThe dragon is withered,\n\nHis bones are now crumbled;\n\nHis armour is shivered,\n\nHis splendour is humbled!\n\nThough sword shall be rusted,\n\nAnd throne and crown perish\n\nWith strength that men trusted\n\nAnd wealth that they cherish,\n\nHere grass is still growing,\n\nAnd leaves are yet swinging,\n\nThe whitewater flowing,\n\nAnd elves are yet singing\n\nCome! Tra-la-la-lally!\n\nComeback to the valley!\n\nThe stars are far brighter\n\nThan gems without measure,\n\nThe moon is far whiter\n\nThan silver in treasure;\n\nThe fire is more shining\n\nOn hearth in the gloaming\n\nThan gold won by mining,\n\nSo why go a-roaming?\n\nO! Tra-la-la-lally\n\nComeback to the Valley.\n\nO! Where are you going,\n\nSo late in returning?\n\nThe river is flowing,\n\nThe stars are all burning!\n\nO! Whither so laden," }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So sad and so dreary?\n\nHere elf and elf-maiden\n\nNow welcome the weary\n\nWith Tra-la-la-lally\n\nComeback to the Valley,\n\nTra-la-la-lally\n\nFa-la-la-lally\n\nFa-la!\n\nThen the elves of the valley came out and greeted them and led them across the water to the house of Elrond. There a warm welcome was made them, and there were many eager ears that evening to hear the tale of their adventures. Gandalf it was who spoke, for Bilbo was fallen quiet and drowsy. Most of the tale he knew, for he had been in it, and had himself told much of it to the wizard on their homeward way or in the house of Beorn; but every now and again he would open one eye, and listen, when apart of the story which he did not yet know came in.\n\nIt was in this way that he learned where Gandalf had been to; for he overheard the words of the wizard to Elrond. It appeared that Gandalf had been to a great council of the white wizards, masters of lore and good magic; and that they had at last driven the Necromancer from his dark hold in the south of Mirkwood.\n\n\"Erelong now,\" Gandalf was saying, \"the Forest will grow somewhat more wholesome. The North will be freed from that horror for many long years, I hope. Yet I wish he were banished from the world!\"\n\n\"It would be well indeed,\" said Elrond; \"but I fear that will not come about in this age of the world, or for many after.\"\n\nWhen the tale of their journeyings was told, there were other tales, and yet more tales, tales of long ago, and tales of new things, and tales of no time at all, till Bilbo's head fell forward on his chest, and he snored comfortably in a corner." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He woke to find himself in a white bed, and the moon shining through an open window." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Below it many elves were singing loud and clear on the banks of the stream.\n\nSing all ye joyful, now sing all together!\n\nThe wind's in the tree-top, the wind's in the heather;\n\nThe stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower,\n\nAnd bright are the windows of Night in her tower.\n\nDance all ye joyful, now dance all together!\n\nSoft is the grass, and let foot be like feather!\n\nThe river is silver, the shadows are fleeting;\n\nMerry is May-time, and merry our meeting.\n\nSing we now softly, and dreams let us weave him!\n\nWind him in slumber and there let us leave him!\n\nThe wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be his pillow! Lullaby!\n\nLullaby! Alder and Willow!\n\nSigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn!\n\nFall Moon! Dark be the land!\n\nHush! Hush! Oak, Ash, and Thorn!\n\nHushed be all water, till dawn is at hand!\n\n\"Well, Merry People!\" said Bilbo looking out. \"What time by the moon is this? Your lullaby would waken a drunken goblin! Yet I thank you.\"\n\n\"And your snores would waken a stone dragon-yet we thank you,\" they answered with laughter. \"It is drawing towards dawn, and you have slept now since the night's beginning. Tomorrow, perhaps, you will be cured of weariness.\"\n\n\"A little sleep does a great cure in the house of Elrond,\" said he; \"but I will take all the cure I can get. A second goodnight, fair friends!\" And with that he went back to bed and slept till late morning." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Weariness fell from him soon in that house, and he had many a merry jest and dance, early and late, with the elves of the valley. Yet even that place could not long delay him now, and he thought always of his own home. After a week, therefore, he said farewell to Elrond, and giving him such small gifts as he would accept, he rode away with Gandalf.\n\nEven as they left the valley the sky darkened in the West before them, and wind and rain came up to meet them.\n\n\"Merry is May-time!\" said Bilbo, as the rain beat into his face. \"But our back is to legends and we are coming home. I suppose this is the first taste of it.\"\n\n\"There is along road yet,\" said Gandalf.\n\n\"But it is the last road,\" said Bilbo.\n\nThey came to the river that marked the very edge of the borderland of the Wild, and to the ford beneath the steep bank, which you may remember. The water was swollen both with the melting of the snows at the approach of summer, and with the daylong rain; but they crossed with some difficulty, and pressed forward, as evening fell, on the last stage of their journey.\n\nThis was much as it had been before, except that the company was smaller, and more silent; also this time there were no trolls. At each point on the road Bilbo recalled the happenings and the words of a year ago-it seemed to him more like ten-so that, of course, he quickly noted the place where the pony had fallen in the river, and they had turned aside for their nasty adventure with Tom and Bert and Bill.\n\nNot far from the road they found the gold of the trolls, which they had buried, still hidden and untouched. \"I have enough to last me my time,\" said Bilbo, when they had dug it up. \"You had better take this, Gandalf. I daresay you can find a use for it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Indeed I can!\" said the wizard. \"But share and share alike! You may find you have more needs than you expect.\"\n\nSo they put the gold in bags and slung them on the ponies, who were not at all pleased about it. After that their going was slower, for most of the time they walked. But the land was green and there was much grass through which the hobbit strolled along contentedly. He mopped his face with a red silk handkerchief-no! not a single one of his own had survived, he had borrowed this one from Elrond-for now June had brought summer, and the weather was bright and hot again.\n\nAs all things come to an end, even this story, a day came at last when they were insight of the country where Bilbo had been born and bred, where the shapes of the land and of the trees were as well known to him as his hands and toes. Coming to arise he could see his own Hill in the distance, and he stopped suddenly and said:\n\nRoads go ever ever on,\n\nOver rock and under tree,\n\nBy caves where never sun has shone,\n\nBy streams that never find the sea;\n\nOver snow by winter sown,\n\nAnd through the merry flowers of June,\n\nOver grass and over stone,\n\nAnd under mountains in the moon.\n\nRoads go ever ever on\n\nUnder cloud and under star,\n\nYet feet that wandering have gone\n\nTurn at last to home afar.\n\nEyes that fire and sword have seen\n\nAnd horror in the halls of stone\n\nLook at last on meadows green\n\nAnd trees and hills they long have known.\n\nGandalf looked at him. \"My dear Bilbo!\" he said. \"Something is the matter with you! You are not the hobbit that you were.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And so they crossed the bridge and passed the mill by the river and came right back to Bilbo's own door.\n\n\"Bless me! What's going on?\" he cried. There was a great commotion, and people of all sorts, respectable and unrespectable, were thick round the door, and many were going in and out-not even wiping their feet on the mat, as Bilbo noticed with annoyance.\n\nIf he was surprised, they were more surprised still. He had arrived back in the middle of an auction! There was a large notice in black and red hung on the gate, stating that on June the Twenty-second Messrs Grubb, Grubb, and Burrowes would sell by auction the effects of the late Bilbo Baggins Esquire, of Bag-End, Underhill, Hobbiton. Sale to commence at ten o'clock sharp. It was now nearly lunchtime, and most of the things had already been sold, for various prices from next to nothing to old songs (as is not unusual at auctions). Bilbo's cousins the Sackville-Bagginses were, in fact, busy measuring his rooms to see if their own furniture would fit. In short Bilbo was'Presumed Dead\", and not everybody that said so was sorry to find the presumption wrong.\n\nThe return of Mr. Bilbo Baggins created quite a disturbance, both under the Hill and over the Hill, and across the Water; it was a great deal more than a nine days' wonder. The legal bother, indeed, lasted for years. It was quite along time before Mr. Baggins was in fact admitted to be alive again. The people who had got specially good bargains at the Sale took a deal of convincing; and in the end to save time Bilbo had to buyback quite a lot of his own furniture. Many of his silver spoons mysteriously disappeared and were never accounted for. Personally he suspected the Sackville-Bagginses. On their side they never admitted that the returned Baggins was genuine, and they were not on friendly terms with Bilbo ever after. They really had wanted to live in his nice hobbit-hole so very much." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Indeed Bilbo found he had lost more than spoons-he had lost his reputation." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It is true that forever after he remained an elf-friend, and had the honour of dwarves, wizards, and all such folk as ever passed that way; but he was no longer quite respectable. He was in fact held by all the hobbits of the neighbourhood to be \"queer\"-except by his nephews and nieces on the Took side, but even they were not encouraged in their friendship by their elders.\n\nI am sorry to say he did not mind. He was quite content; and the sound of the kettle on his hearth was ever after more musical than it had been even in the quiet days before the Unexpected Party. His sword he hungover the mantelpiece. His coat of mail was arranged on a stand in the hall (until he lent it to a Museum). His gold and silver was largely spent in presents, both useful and extravagant-which to a certain extent accounts for the affection of his nephews and his nieces. His magic ring he kept a great secret, for he chiefly used it when unpleasant callers came.\n\nHe took to writing poetry and visiting the elves; and though many shook their heads and touched their foreheads and said'Poor old Baggins!\" and though few believed any of his tales, he remained very happy to the end of his days, and those were extraordinarily long.\n\nOne autumn evening some years afterwards Bilbo was sitting in his study writing his memoirs-he thought of calling them'There and Back Again, a Hobbit's Holiday\"-when there was a ring at the door. It was Gandalf and a dwarf; and the dwarf was actually Balin.\n\n\"Come in! Come in!\" said Bilbo, and soon they were settled in chairs by the fire. If Balin noticed that Mr. Baggins'waistcoat was more extensive (and had real gold buttons), Bilbo also noticed that Balin's beard was several inches longer, and his jewelled belt was of great magnificence." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Keep the narrative going for the author.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, quest\nAuthor: J.R.R. Tolkien\nTitle: The Hobbit\nChapter: 10" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Indeed Bilbo found he had lost more than spoons-he had lost his reputation." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It is true that forever after he remained an elf-friend, and had the honour of dwarves, wizards, and all such folk as ever passed that way; but he was no longer quite respectable. He was in fact held by all the hobbits of the neighbourhood to be \"queer\"-except by his nephews and nieces on the Took side, but even they were not encouraged in their friendship by their elders.\n\nI am sorry to say he did not mind. He was quite content; and the sound of the kettle on his hearth was ever after more musical than it had been even in the quiet days before the Unexpected Party. His sword he hungover the mantelpiece. His coat of mail was arranged on a stand in the hall (until he lent it to a Museum). His gold and silver was largely spent in presents, both useful and extravagant-which to a certain extent accounts for the affection of his nephews and his nieces. His magic ring he kept a great secret, for he chiefly used it when unpleasant callers came.\n\nHe took to writing poetry and visiting the elves; and though many shook their heads and touched their foreheads and said'Poor old Baggins!\" and though few believed any of his tales, he remained very happy to the end of his days, and those were extraordinarily long.\n\nOne autumn evening some years afterwards Bilbo was sitting in his study writing his memoirs-he thought of calling them'There and Back Again, a Hobbit's Holiday\"-when there was a ring at the door. It was Gandalf and a dwarf; and the dwarf was actually Balin.\n\n\"Come in! Come in!\" said Bilbo, and soon they were settled in chairs by the fire. If Balin noticed that Mr. Baggins'waistcoat was more extensive (and had real gold buttons), Bilbo also noticed that Balin's beard was several inches longer, and his jewelled belt was of great magnificence." }, { "from": "human", "value": "They fell to talking of their times together, of course, and Bilbo asked how things were going in the lands of the Mountain." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It seemed they were going very well. Bard had rebuilt the town in Dale and men had gathered to him from the Lake and from South and West, and all the valley had become tilled again and rich, and the desolation was now filled with birds and blossoms in spring and fruit and feasting in autumn. And Lake-town was refounded and was more prosperous than ever, and much wealth went up and down the Running River; and there was friendship in those parts between elves and dwarves and men.\n\nThe Hall at Bag-End Residence of B. Baggins Esquire\n\nThe old Master had come to a bad end. Bard had given him much gold for the help of the Lake-people, but being of the kind that easily catches such disease he fell under the dragon-sickness, and took most of the gold and fled with it, and died of starvation in the Waste, deserted by his companions.\n\n\"The new Master is of wiser kind,\" said Balin, \"and very popular, for, of course, he gets most of the credit for the present prosperity. They are making songs which say that in his day the rivers run with gold.\"\n\n\"Then the prophecies of the old songs have turned out to be true, after a fashion!\" said Bilbo.\n\n\"Of course!\" said Gandalf. \"And why should not they prove true? Surely you don't disbelieve the prophecies, because you had a hand in bringing them about yourself? You don't really suppose, do you, that all your adventures and escapes were managed by mere luck, just for your sole bene-fit? You area very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!\"\n\n\"Thank goodness!\" said Bilbo laughing, and handed him the tobacco-jar." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ina hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.\n\nIt had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened onto a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats-the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill-The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it-and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another. No going upstairs for the hobbit: bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (he had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over his garden, and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.\n\nThis hobbit was a very well-to-do hobbit, and his name was Baggins. The Bagginses had lived in the neighbourhood of The Hill for timeout of mind, and people considered them very respectable, not only because most of them were rich, but also because they never had any adventures or did anything unexpected: you could tell what a Baggins would say on any question without the bother of asking him. This is a story of how a Baggins had an adventure, and found himself doing and saying things altogether unexpected. He may have lost the neighbours' respect, but he gained-well, you will see whether he gained anything in the end." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The mother of our particular hobbit-what is a hobbit? I suppose hobbits need some description nowadays, since they have become rare and shy of the Big People, as they callus. They are (or were) a little people, about half our height, and smaller than the bearded Dwarves. Hobbits have no beards. There is little or no magic about them, except the ordinary everyday sort which helps them to disappear quietly and quickly when large stupid folk like you and me come blundering along, making a noise like elephants which they can hear a mile off. They are inclined to be fat in the stomach; they dress in bright colours (chiefly green and yellow); wear no shoes, because their feet grow natural leathery soles and thick warm brown hairlike the stuff on their heads (which is curly); have long clever brown fingers, good-natured faces, and laugh deep fruity laughs (especially after dinner, which they have twice a day when they can get it). Now you know enough to goon with. As I was saying, the mother of this hobbit-of Bilbo Baggins, that is-was the famous Belladonna Took, one of the three remarkable daughters of the Old Took, head of the hobbits who lived across The Water, the small river that ran at the foot of The Hill. It was often said (in other families) that long ago one of the Took ancestors must have taken a fairy wife. That was, of course, absurd, but certainly there was still something not entirely hobbitlike about them, and once in awhile members of the Took-clan would go and have adventures. They discreetly disappeared, and the family hushed it up; but the fact remained that the Tooks were not as respectable as the Bagginses, though they were undoubtedly richer.\n\nNot that Belladonna Took ever had any adventures after she became Mrs. Bungo Baggins. Bungo, that was Bilbo's father, built the most luxurious hobbit-hole for her (and partly with her money) that was to be found either under The Hill or over The Hill or across The Water, and there they remained to the end of their days. Still it is probable that Bilbo, her only son, although he looked and behaved exactly like a second edition of his solid and comfortable father, got something a bit queer in his make-up from the Took side, something that only waited fora chance to come out. The chance never arrived, until Bilbo Baggins was grownup, being about fifty years old or so, and living in the beautiful hobbit-hole built by his father, which I have just described for you, until he had in fact apparently settled down immovably." }, { "from": "human", "value": "By some curious chance one morning long ago in the quiet of the world, when there was less noise and more green, and the hobbits were still numerous and prosperous, and Bilbo Baggins was standing at his door after breakfast smoking an enormous long wooden pipe that reached nearly down to his woolly toes (neatly brushed)-Gandalf came by." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gandalf! If you had heard only a quarter of what I have heard about him, and I have only heard very little of all there is to hear, you would be prepared for any sort of remarkable tale. Tales and adventures sprouted up allover the place wherever he went, in the most extraordinary fashion. He had not been down that way under The Hill forages and ages, not since his friend the Old Took died, in fact, and the hobbits had almost forgotten what he looked like. He had been away over The Hill and across The Water on businesses of his own since they were all small hobbit-boys and hobbit-girls.\n\nAll that the unsuspecting Bilbo saw that morning was an old man with a staff. He had a tall pointed blue hat, along grey cloak, a silver scarf over which his long white beard hung down below his waist, and immense black boots.\n\n\"Good Morning!\" said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat.\n\n\"What do you mean?\" he said. \"Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feelgood this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?\"\n\n\"All of them at once,\" said Bilbo. \"And a very fine morning fora pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There's no hurry, we have all the day before us!\" Then Bilbo sat down on a seat by his door, crossed his legs, and blew out a beautiful grey ring of smoke that sailed up into the air without breaking and floated away over The Hill." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Very pretty!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said Gandalf. \"But I have no time to blow smoke-rings this morning. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone.\"\n\n\"I should think so-in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can't think what anybody sees in them,\" said our Mr. Baggins, and stuck one thumb behind his braces, and blew out another even bigger smokering. Then he took out his morning letters, and began to read, pretending to take no more notice of the old man. He had decided that he was not quite his sort, and wanted him to go away. But the old man did not move. He stood leaning on his stick and gazing at the hobbit without saying anything, till Bilbo got quite uncomfortable and even a little cross.\n\n\"Good morning!\" he said at last. \"We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water.\" By this he meant that the conversation was at an end.\n\n\"What a lot of things you douse Good morning for!\" said Gandalf. \"Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off.\"\n\n\"Not at all, not at all, my dear sir! Let me see, I don't think I know your name?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, my dear sir-and I do know your name, Mr. Bilbo Baggins. And you do know my name, though you don't remember that I belong to it. I am Gandalf, and Gandalf means me! To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Gandalf, Gandalf! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Took a pair of magic diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered? Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and the unexpected luck of widows'sons? Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve. Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!\" You will notice already that Mr. Baggins was not quite so prosy as he liked to believe, also that he was very fond of flowers. \"Dear me!\" he went on. \"Not the Gandalf who was responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures? Anything from climbing trees to visiting elves-or sailing in ships, sailing to other shores! Bless me, life used to be quite inter-I mean, you used to upset things badly in these parts once upon a time. I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business.\"\n\n\"Where else should I be?\" said the wizard. \"All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me. You seem to remember my fireworks kindly, at any rate, and that is not without hope. Indeed for your old grandfather Took's sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna, I will give you what you asked for.\"\n\n\"I beg your pardon, I haven't asked for anything!\"\n\n\"Yes, you have! Twice now. My pardon. I give it you. In fact I will go so far as to send you on this adventure. Very amusing for me, very good for you-and profitable too, very likely, if you ever get over it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sorry! I don't want any adventures, thank you. Not today. Good morning! But please come to tea-anytime you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Goodbye!\" With that the hobbit turned and scuttled inside his round green door, and shut it as quickly as he dared, not to seem rude. Wizards after all are wizards.\n\n\"What on earth did I ask him to tea for!\" he said to himself, as he went to the pantry. He had only just had breakfast, but he thought a cake or two and a drink of something would do him good after his fright.\n\nGandalf in the meantime was still standing outside the door, and laughing long but quietly. After awhile he stepped up, and with the spike on his staff scratched a queer sign on the hobbit's beautiful green front-door. Then he strode away, just about the time when Bilbo was finishing his second cake and beginning to think that he had escaped adventures very well.\n\nThe next day he had almost forgotten about Gandalf. He did not remember things very well, unless he put them down on his Engagement Tablet: like this: Gandalf Tea Wednesday. Yesterday he had been too flustered to do anything of the kind.\n\nJust before tea-time there came a tremendous ring on the front-doorbell, and then he remembered! He rushed and put on the kettle, and putout another cup and saucer, and an extra cake or two, and ran to the door.\n\n\"I am so sorry to keep you waiting!\" he was going to say, when he saw that it was not Gandalf at all. It was a dwarf with a blue beard tucked into a golden belt, and very bright eyes under his dark-green hood. As soon as the door was opened, he pushed inside, just as if he had been expected." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He hung his hooded cloak on the nearest peg, and'Dwalin at your service!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "he said with a low bow.\n\n\"Bilbo Baggins at yours!\" said the hobbit, too surprised to ask any questions for the moment. When the silence that followed had become uncomfortable, he added: \"I am just about to take tea; pray come and have some with me.\" A little stiff perhaps, but he meant it kindly. And what would you do, if an uninvited dwarf came and hung his things up in your hall without a word of explanation?\n\nThey had not been at table long, in fact they had hardly reached the third cake, when there came another even louder ring at the bell.\n\n\"Excuse me!\" said the hobbit, and off he went to the door.\n\n\"So you have got here at last!\" That was what he was going to say to Gandalf this time. But it was not Gandalf. Instead there was a very old-looking dwarf on the step with a white beard and a scarlet hood; and he too hopped inside as soon as the door was open, just as if he had been invited.\n\n\"I see they have begun to arrive already,\" he said when he caught sight of Dwalin's green hood hanging up. He hung his redone next to it, and'Balin at your service!\" he said with his hand on his breast.\n\n\"Thank you!\" said Bilbo with a gasp. It was not the correct thing to say, but they have begun to arrive had flustered him badly. He liked visitors, but he liked to know them before they arrived, and he preferred to ask them himself. He had a horrible thought that the cakes might run short, and then he-as the host: he knew his duty and stuck to it however painful-he might have to go without.\n\n\"Come along in, and have some tea!\" he managed to say after taking a deep breath." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"A little beer would suit me better, if it is all the same to you, my good sir,\" said Balin with the white beard." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But I don't mind some cake-seed-cake, if you have any.\"\n\n\"Lots!\" Bilbo found himself answering, to his own surprise; and he found himself scuttling off, too, to the cellar to fill a pint beer-mug, and then to a pantry to fetch two beautiful round seed-cakes which he had baked that afternoon for his after-supper morsel.\n\nWhen he got back Balin and Dwalin were talking at the table like old friends (as a matter of fact they were brothers). Bilbo plumped down the beer and the cake in front of them, when loud came a ring at the bell again, and then another ring.\n\n\"Gandalf for certain this time,\" he thought as he puffed along the passage. But it was not. It was two more dwarves, both with blue hoods, silver belts, and yellow beards; and each of them carried a bag of tools and a spade. In they hopped, as soon as the door began to open-Bilbo was hardly surprised at all.\n\n\"What can I do for you, my dwarves?\" he said.\n\n\"Kili at your service!\" said the one. \"And Fili!\" added the other; and they both swept off their blue hoods and bowed.\n\n\"At yours and your family's!\" replied Bilbo, remembering his manners this time.\n\n\"Dwalin and Balin here already, I see,\" said Kili. \"Let us join the throng!\"\n\n\"Throng!\" thought Mr. Baggins. \"I don't like the sound of that. I really must sit down fora minute and collect my wits, and have a drink.\" He had only just had a sip-in the corner, while the four dwarves sat round the table, and talked about mines and gold and troubles with the goblins, and the depredations of dragons, and lots of other things which he did not understand, and did not want to, for they sounded much too adventurous-when, ding-dong-a-ling-dang, his bell rang again, as if some naughty little hobbit-boy was trying to pull the handle off." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Someone at the door!\" he said, blinking.\n\n\"Some four, I should say by the sound,\" said Fili. \"Besides, we saw them coming along behind us in the distance.\"\n\nThe poor little hobbit sat down in the hall and put his head in his hands, and wondered what had happened, and what was going to happen, and whether they would all stay to supper. Then the bell rang again louder than ever, and he had to run to the door. It was not four after all, it was five. Another dwarf had come along while he was wondering in the hall. He had hardly turned the knob, before they were all inside, bowing and saying'at your service\" one after another. Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, and Gloin were their names; and very soon two purple hoods, a grey hood, a brown hood, and a white hood were hanging on the pegs, and off they marched with their broad hands stuck in their gold and silver belts to join the others. Already it had almost become a throng. Some called for ale, and some for porter, and one for coffee, and all of them for cakes; so the hobbit was kept very busy fora while.\n\nA big jug of coffee had just been set in the hearth, the seed-cakes were gone, and the dwarves were starting on around of buttered scones, when there came-aloud knock. Not a ring, but a hard rat-tat on the hobbit's beautiful green door. Somebody was banging with a stick!\n\nBilbo rushed along the passage, very angry, and altogether bewildered and bewuthered-this was the most awkward Wednesday he ever remembered. He pulled open the door with a jerk, and they all fell in, one on top of the other. More dwarves, four more! And there was Gandalf behind, leaning on his staff and laughing. He had made quite a dent on the beautiful door; he had also, by the way, knocked out the secret mark that he had put there the morning before." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Carefully! Carefully!\" he said. \"It is not like you, Bilbo, to keep friends waiting on the mat, and then open the door like a pop-gun! Let me introduce Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and especially Thorin!\"\n\n\"At your service!\" said Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur standing in a row. Then they hung up two yellow hoods and a pale green one; and also a sky-blue one with along silver tassel. This last belonged to Thorin, an enormously important dwarf, in fact no other than the great Thorin Oakenshield himself, who was not at all pleased at falling flat on Bilbo's mat with Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur on top of him. For one thing Bombur was immensely fat and heavy. Thorin indeed was very haughty, and said nothing about service; but poor Mr. Baggins said he was sorry so many times, that at last he grunted'pray don't mention it,\" and stopped frowning.\n\n\"Now we are all here!\" said Gandalf, looking at the row of thirteen hoods-the best detachable party hoods-and his own hat hanging on the pegs. \"Quite a merry gathering! I hope there is something left for the late-comers to eat and drink! What's that? Tea! No thank you! A little red wine, I think for me.\"\n\n\"And for me,\" said Thorin.\n\n\"And raspberry jam and apple-tart,\" said Bifur.\n\n\"And mince-pies and cheese,\" said Bofur.\n\n\"And pork-pie and salad,\" said Bombur.\n\n\"And more cakes-and ale-and coffee, if you don't mind,\" called the other dwarves through the door." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Put on a few eggs, there's a good fellow!\" Gandalf called after him, as the hobbit stumped off to the pantries. \"And just bring out the cold chicken and pickles!\"\n\n\"Seems to know as much about the inside of my larders as I do myself!\" thought Mr. Baggins, who was feeling positively flummoxed, and was beginning to wonder whether a most wretched adventure had not come right into his house. By the time he had got all the bottles and dishes and knives and forks and glasses and plates and spoons and things piled upon big trays, he was getting very hot, and red in the face, and annoyed.\n\n\"Confusticate and bebother these dwarves!\" he said aloud. \"Why don't they come and lend a hand?\" Lo and behold! there stood Balin and Dwalin at the door of the kitchen, and Fili and Kili behind them, and before he could say knife they had whisked the trays and a couple of small tables into the parlour and set out everything afresh.\n\nGandalf sat at the head of the party with the thirteen dwarves all round: and Bilbo sat on a stool at the fireside, nibbling at a biscuit (his appetite was quite taken away), and trying to look as if this was all perfectly ordinary and not in the least an adventure. The dwarves ate and ate, and talked and talked, and time got on. At last they pushed their chairs back, and Bilbo made a move to collect the plates and glasses.\n\n\"I suppose you will all stay to supper?\" he said in his politest unpressing tones.\n\n\"Of course!\" said Thorin. \"And after. We shan't get through the business till late, and we must have some music first. Now to clear up!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Thereupon the twelve dwarves-not Thorin, he was too important, and stayed talking to Gandalf-jumped to their feet, and made tall piles of all the things. Off they went, not waiting for trays, balancing columns of plates, each with a bottle on the top, with one hand, while the hobbit ran after them almost squeaking with fright: \"please be careful!\" and'please, don't trouble! I can manage.\" But the dwarves only started to sing:\n\nChip the glasses and crack the plates!\n\nBlunt the knives and bend the forks!\n\nThat's what Bilbo Baggins hates–\n\nSmash the bottles and burn the corks!\n\nCut the cloth and tread on the fat!\n\nPour the milk on the pantry floor!\n\nLeave the bones on the bedroom mat!\n\nSplash the wine on every door!\n\nDump the crocks in a boiling bowl;\n\nPound them up with a thumping pole;\n\nAnd when you've finished, if any are whole,\n\nSend them down the hall to roll!\n\nThat's what Bilbo Baggins hates!\n\nSo, carefully! carefully with the plates!\n\nAnd of course they did none of these dreadful things, and everything was cleaned and put away safe as quick as lightning, while the hobbit was turning round and round in the middle of the kitchen trying to see what they were doing. Then they went back, and found Thorin with his feet on the fender smoking a pipe. He was blowing the most enormous smoke-rings, and wherever he told one to go, it went-up the chimney, or behind the clock on the mantelpiece, or under the table, or round and round the ceiling; but wherever it went it was not quick enough to escape Gandalf. Pop! he sent a smaller smoke-ring from his short clay-pipe straight through each one of Thorin's. Then Gandalf's smoke-ring would go green and comeback to hover over the wizard's head. He had a cloud of them about him already, and in the dim light it made him look strange and sorcerous. Bilbo stood still and watched-he loved smoke-rings-and then he blushed to think how proud he had been yesterday morning of the smoke-rings he had sent up the wind over The Hill." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Now for some music!\" said Thorin. \"Bring out the instruments!\"\n\nKili and Fili rushed for their bags and brought back little fiddles; Dori, Nori, and Ori brought out flutes from somewhere inside their coats; Bombur produced a drum from the hall; Bifur and Bofur went out too, and came back with clarinets that they had left among the walking-sticks. Dwalin and Balin said: \"Excuse me, I left mine in the porch!\" \"Just bring mine in with you!\" said Thorin. They came back with viols as big as themselves, and with Thorin's harp wrapped in a green cloth. It was a beautiful golden harp, and when Thorin struck it the music began all at once, so sudden and sweet that Bilbo forgot everything else, and was swept away into dark lands under strange moons, far over The Water and very far from his hobbit-hole under The Hill.\n\nThe dark came into the room from the little window that opened in the side of The Hill; the firelight flickered-it was April-and still they played on, while the shadow of Gandalf's beard wagged against the wall.\n\nThe dark filled all the room, and the fire died down, and the shadows were lost, and still they played on. And suddenly first one and then another began to sing as they played, deep-throated singing of the dwarves in the deep places of their ancient homes; and this is like a fragment of their song, if it can be like their song without their music.\n\nFar over the misty mountains cold\n\nTo dungeons deep and caverns old\n\nWe must away ere break of day\n\nTo seek the pale enchanted gold.\n\nThe dwarves of yore made mighty spells," }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "While hammers fell like ringing bells\n\nIn places deep, where dark things sleep,\n\nIn hollow halls beneath the fells.\n\nFor ancient king and elvish lord\n\nThere many a gleaming golden hoard\n\nThey shaped and wrought, and light they caught\n\nTo hide in gems on hilt of sword.\n\nOn silver necklaces they strung\n\nThe flowering stars, on crowns they hung\n\nThe dragon-fire, in twisted wire\n\nThey meshed the light of moon and sun.\n\nFar over the misty mountains cold\n\nTo dungeons deep and caverns old\n\nWe must away, ere break of day,\n\nTo claim our long-forgotten gold.\n\nGoblets they carved therefor themselves\n\nAnd harps of gold; where no man delves\n\nThere lay they long, and many a song\n\nWas sung unheard by men or elves.\n\nThe pines were roaring on the height,\n\nThe winds were moaning in the night.\n\nThe fire was red, it flaming spread;\n\nThe trees like torches blazed with light.\n\nThe bells were ringing in the dale\n\nAnd men looked up with faces pale;\n\nThe dragon's ire more fierce than fire\n\nLaid low their towers and houses frail.\n\nThe mountain smoked beneath the moon;\n\nThe dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.\n\nThey fled their hall to dying fall\n\nBeneath his feet, beneath the moon.\n\nFar over the misty mountains grim\n\nTo dungeons deep and caverns dim" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We must away, ere break of day,\n\nTo win our harps and gold from him!\n\nAs they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and a jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves. Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and seethe great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick. He looked out of the window. The stars were out in a dark sky above the trees. He thought of the jewels of the dwarves shining in dark caverns. Suddenly in the wood beyond The Water aflame leapt up-probably somebody lighting a wood-fire-and he thought of plundering dragons settling on his quiet Hill and kindling it all to flames. He shuddered; and very quickly he was plain Mr. Baggins of Bag-End, Under-Hill, again.\n\nHe got up trembling. He had less than half a mind to fetch the lamp, and more than half a mind to pretend to, and go and hide behind the beer-barrels in the cellar, and not come out again until all the dwarves had gone away. Suddenly he found that the music and the singing had stopped, and they were all looking at him with eyes shining in the dark.\n\n\"Where are you going?\" said Thorin, in atone that seemed to show that he guessed both halves of the hobbit's mind.\n\n\"What about a little light?\" said Bilbo apologetically.\n\n\"We like the dark,\" said all the dwarves. \"Dark for dark business! There are many hours before dawn.\"\n\n\"Of course!\" said Bilbo, and sat down in a hurry. He missed the stool and satin the fender, knocking over the poker and shovel with a crash." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hush!\" said Gandalf. \"Let Thorin speak!\" And this is how Thorin began.\n\n\"Gandalf, dwarves and Mr. Baggins! We are met together in the house of our friend and fellow conspirator, this most excellent and audacious hobbit-may the hair on his toes never fallout! all praise to his wine and ale!-\" He paused for breath and fora polite remark from the hobbit, but the compliments were quite lost on poor Bilbo Baggins, who was wagging his mouth in protest at being called audacious and worst of all fellow conspirator, though no noise came out, he was so flummoxed. So Thorin went on:\n\n\"We are met to discuss our plans, our ways, means, policy and devices. We shall soon before the break of day start on our long journey, a journey from which some of us, or perhaps all of us (except our friend and counsellor, the ingenious wizard Gandalf) may never return. It is a solemn moment. Our object is, I take it, well known to us all. To the estimable Mr. Baggins, and perhaps to one or two of the younger dwarves (I think I should be right in naming Kili and Fili, for instance), the exact situation at the moment may require a little brief explanation-\"\n\nThis was Thorin's style. He was an important dwarf. If he had been allowed, he would probably have gone on like this until he was out of breath, without telling anyone there anything that was not known already. But he was rudely interrupted. Poor Bilbo couldn't bear it any longer. At may never return he began to feel a shriek coming up inside, and very soon it burst out like the whistle of an engine coming out of a tunnel. All the dwarves sprang up, knocking over the table. Gandalf struck a blue light on the end of his magic staff, and in its firework glare the poor little hobbit could be seen kneeling on the hearth-rug, shaking like a jelly that was melting. Then he fell flat on the floor, and kept on calling out'struck by lightning, struck by lightning!\" over and over again; and that was all they could get out of him fora longtime. So they took him and laid him out of the way on the drawing-room sofa with a drink at his elbow, and they went back to their dark business." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Excitable little fellow,\" said Gandalf, as they sat down again. \"Gets funny queer fits, but he is one of the best, one of the best-as fierce as a dragon in a pinch.\"\n\nIf you have ever seen a dragon in a pinch, you will realize that this was only poetical exaggeration applied to any hobbit, even to Old Took's great-grand-uncle Bullroarer, who was so huge (fora hobbit) that he could ride a horse. He charged the ranks of the goblins of Mount Gram in the Battle of the Green Fields, and knocked their king Golfimbul's head clean off with a wooden club. It sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit-hole, and in this way the battle was won and the game of Golf invented at the same moment.\n\nIn the meanwhile, however, Bullroarer's gentler descendant was reviving in the drawing-room. After awhile and a drink he crept nervously to the door of the parlour. This is what he heard, Gloin speaking: \"Humph!\" (or some snort more or less like that). \"Will he do, do you think? It is all very well for Gandalf to talk about this hobbit being fierce, but one shriek like that in a moment of excitement would be enough to wake the dragon and all his relatives, and kill the lot of us. I think it sounded more like fright than excitement! In fact, if it had not been for the sign on the door, I should have been sure we had come to the wrong house. As soon as I clapped eyes on the little fellow bobbing and puffing on the mat, I had my doubts. He looks more like a grocer than a burglar!\"\n\nThen Mr. Baggins turned the handle and went in. The Took side had won. He suddenly felt he would go without bed and breakfast to bethought fierce. As for little fellow bobbing on the mat it almost made him really fierce. Many a time afterwards the Baggins part regretted what he did now, and he said to himself: \"Bilbo, you were a fool; you walked right in and put your foot in it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Pardon me,\" he said, \"if I have overheard words that you were saying." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I don't pretend to understand what you are talking about, or your reference to burglars, but I think I am right in believing\" (this is what he called being on his dignity) \"that you think I am no good. I will show you. I have no signs on my door-it was painted a week ago-, and I am quite sure you have come to the wrong house. As soon as I saw your funny faces on the door-step, I had my doubts. But treat it as the right one. Tell me what you want done, and I will try it, if I have to walk from hereto the East of East and fight the wild Were-worms in the Last Desert. I had a great-great-great-grand-uncle once, Bullroarer Took, and-\"\n\n\"Yes, yes, but that was long ago,\" said Gloin. \"I was talking about you. And I assure you there is a mark on this door-the usual one in the trade, or used to be. Burglar wants a good job, plenty of Excitement and reasonable Reward, that's how it is usually read. You can say Expert Treasure-hunter instead of Burglar if you like. Some of them do. It's all the same to us. Gandalf told us that there was a man of the sort in these parts looking fora Job at once, and that he had arranged fora meeting here this Wednesday tea-time.\"\n\n\"Of course there is a mark,\" said Gandalf. \"I put it there myself. For very good reasons. You asked me to find the fourteenth man for your expedition, and I chose Mr. Baggins. Just let anyone say I chose the wrong manor the wrong house, and you can stop at thirteen and have all the bad luck you like, or go back to digging coal.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He scowled so angrily at Gloin that the dwarf huddled back in his chair; and when Bilbo tried to open his mouth to ask a question, he turned and frowned at him and stuck out his bushy eyebrows, till Bilbo shut his mouth tight with a snap. \"That's right,\" said Gandalf. \"Let's have no more argument. I have chosen Mr. Baggins and that ought to be enough for all of you. If I say he is a Burglar, a Burglar he is, or will be when the time comes. There is a lot more in him than you guess, and a deal more than he has any idea of himself. You may (possibly) all live to thank me yet. Now Bilbo, my boy, fetch the lamp, and let's have a little light on this!\"\n\nOn the table in the light of a big lamp with a red shade he spread apiece of parchment rather like a map.\n\n\"This was made by Thror, your grandfather, Thorin,\" he said in answer to the dwarves' excited questions. \"It is a plan of the Mountain.\"\n\n\"I don't see that this will help us much,\" said Thorin disappointedly after a glance. \"I remember the Mountain well enough and the lands about it. And I know where Mirkwood is, and the Withered Heath where the great dragons bred.\"\n\n\"There is a dragon marked in red on the Mountain,\" said Balin, \"but it will be easy enough to find him without that, if ever we arrive there.\"\n\n\"There is one point that you haven't noticed,\" said the wizard, \"and that is the secret entrance. You see that rune on the West side, and the hand pointing to it from the other runes? That marks a hidden passage to the Lower Halls.\" (Look at the map at the beginning of this book, and you will see there the runes.)" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It may have been secret once,\" said Thorin, \"but how do we know that it is secret any longer? Old Smaug has lived there long enough now to find out anything there is to know about those caves.\"\n\n\"He may-but he can't have used it for years and years.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because it is too small. \"Five feet high the door and three may walk abreast\" say the runes, but Smaug could not creep into a hole that size, not even when he was a young dragon, certainly not after devouring so many of the dwarves and men of Dale.\"\n\n\"It seems a great big hole tome,\" squeaked Bilbo (who had no experience of dragons and only of hobbit-holes). He was getting excited and interested again, so that he forgot to keep his mouth shut. He loved maps, and in his hall there hung a large one of the Country Round with all his favourite walks marked on it in red ink. \"How could such a large door be kept secret from everybody outside, apart from the dragon?\" he asked. He was only a little hobbit you must remember.\n\n\"In lots of ways,\" said Gandalf. \"But in what way this one has been hidden we don't know without going to see. From what it says on the map I should guess there is a closed door which has been made to look exactly like the side of the Mountain. That is the usual dwarves\" method-I think that is right, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Quite right,\" said Thorin.\n\n\"Also,\" went on Gandalf, \"I forgot to mention that with the map went a key, a small and curious key. Here it is!\" he said, and handed to Thorin a key with along barrel and intricate wards, made of silver. \"Keep it safe!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Indeed I will,\" said Thorin, and he fastened it upon a fine chain that hung about his neck and under his jacket. \"Now things begin to look more hopeful. This news alters them much for the better. So far we have had no clear idea what to do. We thought of going East, as quiet and careful as we could, as far as the Long Lake. After that the trouble would begin-.\"\n\n\"Along time before that, if I know anything about the roads East,\" interrupted Gandalf.\n\n\"We might go from there up along the River Running,\" went on Thorin taking no notice, \"and so to the ruins of Dale-the old town in the valley there, under the shadow of the Mountain. But we none of us liked the idea of the Front Gate. The river runs right out of it through the great cliff at the South of the Mountain, and out of it comes the dragon too-far too often, unless he has changed his habits.\"\n\n\"That would be no good,\" said the wizard, \"not without a mighty Warrior, even a Hero. I tried to find one; but warriors are busy fighting one another in distant lands, and in this neighbourhood heroes are scarce, or simply not to be found. Swords in these parts are mostly blunt, and axes are used for trees, and shields as cradles or dish-covers; and dragons are comfortably far-off (and therefore legendary). That is why I settled on burglary-especially when I remembered the existence of a Side-door. And here is our little Bilbo Baggins, the burglar, the chosen and selected burglar. So now let's get on and make some plans.\"\n\n\"Very well then,\" said Thorin, \"supposing the burglar-expert gives us some ideas or suggestions.\" He turned with mock-politeness to Bilbo." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"First I should like to know a bit more about things,\" said he, feeling all confused and a bit shaky inside, but so far still Tookishly determined to goon with things. \"I mean about the gold and the dragon, and all that, and how it got there, and who it belongs to, and soon and further.\"\n\n\"Bless me!\" said Thorin, \"haven't you got a map? and didn't you hear our song? and haven't we been talking about all this for hours?\"\n\n\"All the same, I should like it all plain and clear,\" said he obstinately, putting on his business manner (usually reserved for people who tried to borrow money off him), and doing his best to appear wise and prudent and professional and live up to Gandalf's recommendation. \"Also I should like to know about risks, out-of-pocket expenses, time required and remuneration, and so forth\"-by which he meant: \"What am I going to get out of it? and am I going to comeback alive?\"\n\n\"O very well,\" said Thorin. \" Long ago in my grandfather Thror's time our family was driven out of the far North, and came back with all their wealth and their tools to this Mountain on the map. It had been discovered by my far ancestor, Thrain the Old, but now they mined and they tunnelled and they made huger halls and greater workshops-and in addition I believe they found a good deal of gold and a great many jewels too. Anyway they grew immensely rich and famous, and my grandfather was King under the Mountain again, and treated with great reverence by the mortal men, who lived to the South, and were gradually spreading up the Running River as far as the valley overshadowed by the Mountain. They built the merry town of Dale therein those days. Kings used to send for our smiths, and reward even the least skillful most richly. Fathers would beg us to take their sons as apprentices, and pay us handsomely, especially in food-supplies, which we never bothered to grow or find for ourselves. Altogether those were good days for us, and the poorest of us had money to spend and to lend, and leisure to make beautiful things just for the fun of it, not to speak of the most marvellous and magical toys, the like of which is not to be found in the world now-a-days. So my grandfather's halls became full of armour and jewels and carvings and cups, and the toy market of Dale was the wonder of the North." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Undoubtedly that was what brought the dragon. Dragons steal gold and jewels, you know, from men and elves and dwarves, wherever they can find them; and they guard their plunder as long as they live (which is practically forever, unless they are killed), and never enjoy a brass ring of it. Indeed they hardly know a good bit of work from a bad, though they usually have a good notion of the current market value; and they can't make a thing for themselves, not even mend a little loose scale of their armour. There were lots of dragons in the North in those days, and gold was probably getting scarce up there, with the dwarves flying south or getting killed, and all the general waste and destruction that dragons make going from bad to worse. There was a most specially greedy, strong and wicked worm called Smaug. One day he flew up into the air and came south. The first we heard of it was a noise like a hurricane coming from the North, and the pine-trees on the Mountain creaking and cracking in the wind. Some of the dwarves who happened to be outside (I was one luckily-a fine adventurous lad in those days, always wandering about, and it saved my life that day)-well, from a good way off we saw the dragon settle on our mountain in a spout of flame. Then he came down the slopes and when he reached the woods they all went up in fire. By that time all the bells were ringing in Dale and the warriors were arming. The dwarves rushed out of their great gate; but there was the dragon waiting for them. None escaped that way. The river rushed up in steam and a fog fell on Dale, and in the fog the dragon came on them and destroyed most of the warriors-the usual unhappy story, it was only too common in those days. Then he went back and crept in through the Front Gate and routed out all the halls, and lanes, and tunnels, alleys, cellars, mansions and passages. After that there were no dwarves left alive inside, and he took all their wealth for himself. Probably, for that is the dragons\" way, he has piled it all up in a great heap far inside, and sleeps on it fora bed. Later he used to crawl out of the great gate and come by night to Dale, and carry away people, especially maidens, to eat, until Dale was ruined, and all the people dead or gone. What goes on there now I don't know for certain, but I don't suppose anyone lives nearer to the Mountain than the far edge of the Long Lake now-a-days.\n\n\"The few of us that were well outside sat and wept in hiding, and cursed Smaug; and there we were unexpectedly joined by my father and my grandfather with singed beards. They looked very grim but they said very little. When I asked how they had got away, they told me to hold my tongue, and said that one day in the proper time I should know. After that we went away, and we have had to earn our livings as best we could up and down the lands, often enough sinking as low as blacksmith-work or even coalmining. But we have never forgotten our stolen treasure. And even now, when I will allow we have a good bit laid by and are not so badly off\"-here Thorin stroked the gold chain round his neck-\" we still mean to get it back, and to bring our curses home to Smaug-if we can." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have often wondered about my father's and my grandfather's escape. I see now they must have had a private Side-door which only they knew about. But apparently they made a map, and I should like to know how Gandalf got hold of it, and why it did not comedown tome, the rightful heir.\"\n\n\"I did not \"get hold of it,\" I was given it,\" said the wizard. \"Your grandfather Thror was killed, you remember, in the mines of Moria by Azog the Goblin.\"\n\n\"Curse his name, yes,\" said Thorin.\n\n\"And Thrain your father went away on the twenty-first of April, a hundred years ago last Thursday, and has never been seen by you since–\"\n\n\"True, true,\" said Thorin.\n\n\"Well, your father gave me this to give to you; and if I have chosen my own time and way for handing it over, you can hardly blame me, considering the trouble I had to find you. Your father could not remember his own name when he gave me the paper, and he never told me yours; soon the whole I think I ought to be praised and thanked! Here it is,\" said he handing the map to Thorin.\n\n\"I don't understand,\" said Thorin, and Bilbo felt he would have liked to say the same. The explanation did not seem to explain.\n\n\"Your grandfather,\" said the wizard slowly and grimly, \"gave the map to his son for safety before he went to the mines of Moria. Your father went away to try his luck with the map after your grandfather was killed; and lots of adventures of a most unpleasant sort he had, but he never got near the Mountain. How he got there I don't know, but I found him a prisoner in the dungeons of the Necromancer.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Whatever were you doing there?\" asked Thorin with a shudder, and all the dwarves shivered.\n\n\"Never you mind. I was finding things out, as usual; and a nasty dangerous business it was. Even I, Gandalf, only just escaped. I tried to save your father, but it was too late. He was witless and wandering, and had forgotten almost everything except the map and the key.\"\n\n\"We have long ago paid the goblins of Moria,\" said Thorin; \"we must give a thought to the Necromancer.\"\n\n\"Don't be absurd! He is an enemy far beyond the powers of all the dwarves put together, if they could all be collected again from the four corners of the world. The one thing your father wished was for his son to read the map and use the key. The dragon and the Mountain are more than big enough tasks for you!\"\n\n\"Hear, hear!\" said Bilbo, and accidentally said it aloud.\n\n\"Hear what?\" they all said turning suddenly towards him, and he was so flustered that he answered'Hear what I have got to say!\"\n\n\"What's that?\" they asked.\n\n\"Well, I should say that you ought to go East and have a look round. After all there is the Side-door, and dragons must sleep sometimes, I suppose. If you sit on the door-step long enough, I daresay you will think of something. And well, don't you know, I think we have talked long enough for one night, if you see what I mean. What about bed, and an early start, and all that? I will give you a good breakfast before you go.\"\n\n\"Before we go, I suppose you mean,\" said Thorin. \"Aren't you the burglar? And isn't sitting on the door-step your job, not to speak of getting inside the door? But I agree about bed and breakfast. I like six eggs with my ham, when starting on a journey: fried not poached, and mind you don't break'em.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "After all the others had ordered their breakfasts without so much as a please (which annoyed Bilbo very much), they all got up." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The hobbit had to find room for them all, and filled all his spare-rooms and made beds on chairs and sofas, before he got them all stowed and went to his own little bed very tired and not altogether happy. One thing he did make his mind up about was not to bother to getup very early and cook everybody else's wretched breakfast. The Tookishness was wearing off, and he was not now quite so sure that he was going on any journey in the morning.\n\nAshe lay in bed he could hear Thorin still humming to himself in the best bedroom next to him:\n\nFar over the misty mountains cold\n\nTo dungeons deep and caverns old\n\nWe must away, ere break of day,\n\nTo find our long-forgotten gold.\n\nBilbo went to sleep with that in his ears, and it gave him very uncomfortable dreams. It was long after the break of day, when he woke up." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Up jumped Bilbo, and putting on his dressing-gown went into the dining-room. There he saw nobody, but all the signs of a large and hurried breakfast. There was a fearful mess in the room, and piles of unwashed crocks in the kitchen. Nearly every pot and pan he possessed seemed to have been used. The washing-up was so dismally real that Bilbo was forced to believe the party of the night before had not been part of his bad dreams, as he had rather hoped. Indeed he was really relieved after all to think that they had all gone without him, and without bothering to wake him up (\"but with never a thank-you\" he thought); and yet in away he could not help feeling just a trifle disappointed. The feeling surprised him.\n\n\"Don't be a fool, Bilbo Baggins!\" he said to himself, \"thinking of dragons and all that outlandish nonsense at your age!\" So he put on an apron, lit fires, boiled water, and washed up. Then he had a nice little breakfast in the kitchen before turning out the dining-room. By that time the sun was shining; and the front door was open, letting in a warm spring breeze. Bilbo began to whistle loudly and to forget about the night before. In fact he was just sitting down to a nice little second breakfast in the dining-room by the open window, when in walked Gandalf.\n\n\"My dear fellow,\" said he, \"whenever are you going to come? What about an early start?-and here you are having breakfast, or whatever you call it, at half past ten! They left you the message, because they could not wait.\"\n\n\"What message?\" said poor Mr. Baggins all in a fluster.\n\n\"Great Elephants!\" said Gandalf, \"you are not at all yourself this morning-you have never dusted the mantelpiece!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What's that got to do with it? I have had enough to do with washing up for fourteen!\"\n\n\"If you had dusted the mantelpiece, you would have found this just under the clock,\" said Gandalf, handing Bilbo a note (written, of course, on his own note-paper).\n\nThis is what he read:\n\n\"Thorin and Company to Burglar Bilbo greeting! For your hospitality our sincerest thanks, and for your offer of professional assistance our grateful acceptance. Terms: cash on delivery, up to and not exceeding one fourteenth of total profits (if any); all travelling expenses guaranteed in any event; funeral expenses to be defrayed by us or our representatives, if occasion arises and the matter is not otherwise arranged for.\n\n\"Thinking it unnecessary to disturb your esteemed repose, we have proceeded in advance to make requisite preparations, and shall await your respected person at the Green Dragon Inn, Bywater, at 11 a. m. sharp. Trusting that you will be punctual,\n\n\"We have the honour to remain\n\n\"Yours deeply\n\n\"Thorin& Co.\"\n\n\"That leaves you just ten minutes. You will have to run,\" said Gandalf.\n\n\"But-,\" said Bilbo.\n\n\"No time for it,\" said the wizard.\n\n\"But-,\" said Bilbo again.\n\n\"No time for that either! Off you go!\"\n\nTo the end of his days Bilbo could never remember how he found himself outside, without a hat, a walking-stick or any money, or anything that he usually took when he went out; leaving his second breakfast half-finished and quite unwashed-up, pushing his keys into Gandalf's hands, and running as fast as his furry feet could carry him down the lane, past the great Mill, across The Water, and then on fora mile or more." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Very puffed he was, when he got to Bywater just on the stroke of eleven, and found he had come without a pocket-handkerchief!\n\n\"Bravo!\" said Balin who was standing at the inn door looking out for him.\n\nJust then all the others came round the corner of the road from the village. They were on ponies, and each pony was slung about with all kinds of baggages, packages, parcels, and paraphernalia. There was a very small pony, apparently for Bilbo.\n\n\"Up you two get, and off we go!\" said Thorin.\n\n\"I'm awfully sorry,\" said Bilbo, \"but I have come without my hat, and I have left my pocket-handkerchief behind, and I haven't got any money. I didn't get your note until after 10.45 to be precise.\"\n\n\"Don't be precise,\" said Dwalin, \"and don't worry! You will have to manage without pocket-handkerchiefs, and a good many other things, before you get to the journey's end. As fora hat, I have got a spare hood and cloak in my luggage.\"\n\nThat's how they all came to start, jogging off from the inn one fine morning just before May, on laden ponies; and Bilbo was wearing a dark-green hood (a little weather-stained) and a dark-green cloak borrowed from Dwalin. They were too large for him, and he looked rather comic. What his father Bungo would have thought of him, I daren't think. His only comfort was he couldn't be mistaken fora dwarf, as he had no beard.\n\nThey had not been riding very long, when up came Gandalf very splendid on a white horse. He had brought a lot of pocket-handkerchiefs, and Bilbo's pipe and tobacco. So after that the party went along very merrily, and they told stories or sang songs as they rode forward all day, except of course when they stopped for meals. These didn't come quite as often as Bilbo would have liked them, but still he began to feel that adventures were not so bad after all." }, { "from": "human", "value": "At first they had passed through hobbit-lands, a wide respectable country inhabited by decent folk, with good roads, an inn or two, and now and then a dwarf or a farmer ambling by on business." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then they came to lands where people spoke strangely, and sang songs Bilbo had never heard before. Now they had gone on far into the Lone-lands, where there were no people left, no inns, and the roads grew steadily worse. Not far ahead were dreary hills, rising higher and higher, dark with trees. On some of them were old castles with an evil look, as if they had been built by wicked people. Everything seemed gloomy, for the weather that day had taken a nasty turn. Mostly it had been as good as May can be, can be, even in merry tales, but now it was cold and wet. In the Lone-lands they had been obliged to camp when they could, but at least it had been dry.\n\n\"To think it will soon be June!\" grumbled Bilbo, as he splashed along behind the others in a very muddy track. It was after tea-time; it was pouring with rain, and had been all day; his hood was dripping into his eyes, his cloak was full of water; the pony was tired and stumbled on stones; the others were too grumpy to talk. \"And I'm sure the rain has got into the dry clothes and into the food-bags,\" thought Bilbo. \"Bother burgling and everything to do with it! I wish I was at home in my nice hole by the fire, with the kettle just beginning to sing!\" It was not the last time that he wished that!\n\nStill the dwarves jogged on, never turning round or taking any notice of the hobbit. Somewhere behind the grey clouds the sun must have gone down, for it began to get dark as they went down into a deep valley with a river at the bottom. Wind got up, and willows along its banks bent and sighed. Fortunately the road went over an ancient stone bridge, for the river, swollen with the rains, came rushing down from the hills and mountains in the north." }, { "from": "human", "value": "It was nearly night when they had crossed over." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The wind broke up the grey clouds, and a wandering moon appeared above the hills between the flying rags. Then they stopped, and Thorin muttered something about supper, \"and where shall we get a dry patch to sleep on?\" Not until then did they notice that Gandalf was missing. So far he had come all the way with them, never saying if he was in the adventure or merely keeping them company fora while. He had eaten most, talked most, and laughed most. But now he simply was not thereat all!\n\n\"Just when a wizard would have been most useful, too,\" groaned Dori and Nori (who shared the hobbit's views about regular meals, plenty and often).\n\nThey decided in the end that they would have to camp where they were. They moved to a clump of trees, and though it was drier under them, the wind shook the rain off the leaves, and the drip, drip, was most annoying. Also the mischief seemed to have got into the fire. Dwarves can make afire almost anywhere out of almost anything, wind or no wind; but they could not do it that night, not even Oin and Gloin, who were specially good at it.\n\nThen one of the ponies took fright at nothing and bolted. He got into the river before they could catch him; and before they could get him out again, Fili and Kili were nearly drowned, and all the baggage that he carried was washed away off him. Of course it was mostly food, and there was mighty little left for supper, and less for breakfast.\n\nThere they all sat glum and wet and muttering, while Oin and Gloin went on trying to light the fire, and quarrelling about it. Bilbo was sadly reflecting that adventures are not all pony-rides in May-sunshine, when Balin, who was always their look-out man, said: \"There's alight over there!\" There was a hill someway off with trees on it, pretty thick in parts. Out of the dark mass of the trees they could now see alight shining, a reddish comfortable-looking light, as it might be afire or torches twinkling." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When they had looked at it for some while, they fell to arguing. Some said'no\" and some said'yes\". Some said they could but go and see, and anything was better than little supper, less breakfast, and wet clothes all the night.\n\nOthers said: \"These parts are none too well known, and are too near the mountains. Travellers seldom come this way now. The old maps are no use: things have changed for the worse and the road is unguarded. They have seldom even heard of the king round here, and the less inquisitive you areas you go along, the less trouble you are likely to find.\" Some said: \"After all there are fourteen of us.\" Others said: \"Where has Gandalf got to?\" This remark was repeated by everybody. Then the rain began to pour down worse than ever, and Oin and Gloin began to fight.\n\nThat settled it. \"After all we have got a burglar with us,\" they said; and so they made off, leading their ponies (with all due and proper caution) in the direction of the light. They came to the hill and were soon in the wood. Up the hill they went; but there was no proper path to be seen, such as might lead to a house or a farm; and do what they could they made a deal of rustling and crackling and creaking (and a good deal of grumbling and dratting), as they went through the trees in the pitch dark.\n\nSuddenly the red light shone out very bright through the tree-trunks not far ahead.\n\n\"Now it is the burglar's turn,\" they said, meaning Bilbo. \"You must goon and find out all about that light, and what it is for, and if all is perfectly safe and canny,\" said Thorin to the hobbit. \"Now scuttle off, and comeback quick, if all is well. If not, comeback if you can! If you can't, hoot twice like a barn-owl and once like a screech-owl, and we will do what we can.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Off Bilbo had to go, before he could explain that he could not hoot even once like any kind of owl anymore than fly like a bat." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But at any rate hobbits can move quietly in woods, absolutely quietly. They take a pride in it, and Bilbo had sniffed more than once at what he called'all this dwarvish racket,\" as they went along, though I don't suppose you or I would have noticed anything at all on a windy night, not if the whole cavalcade had passed two feet off. As for Bilbo walking primly towards the red light, I don't suppose even a weasel would have stirred a whisker at it. So, naturally, he got right up to the fire-for fire it was-without disturbing anyone. And this is what he saw.\n\nThree very large persons sitting round a very large fire of beech-logs. They were toasting mutton on long spits of wood, and licking the gravy off their fingers. There was a fine toothsome smell. Also there was a barrel of good drink at hand, and they were drinking out of jugs. But they were trolls. Obviously trolls. Even Bilbo, in spite of his sheltered life, could see that: from the great heavy faces of them, and their size, and the shape of their legs, not to mention their language, which was not drawing-room fashion at all, at all.\n\n\"Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrer,\" said one of the trolls.\n\n\"Never a blinking bit of manflesh have we had for long enough,\" said a second. \"What the \"ell William was a-thinkin\" of to bring us into these parts at all, beats me-and the drink runnin'short, what's more,\" he said jogging the elbow of William, who was taking a pull at his jug." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Aid the author by keeping the plot going.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, quest\nAuthor: J.R.R. Tolkien\nTitle: The Hobbit\nChapter: 12" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Off Bilbo had to go, before he could explain that he could not hoot even once like any kind of owl anymore than fly like a bat." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But at any rate hobbits can move quietly in woods, absolutely quietly. They take a pride in it, and Bilbo had sniffed more than once at what he called'all this dwarvish racket,\" as they went along, though I don't suppose you or I would have noticed anything at all on a windy night, not if the whole cavalcade had passed two feet off. As for Bilbo walking primly towards the red light, I don't suppose even a weasel would have stirred a whisker at it. So, naturally, he got right up to the fire-for fire it was-without disturbing anyone. And this is what he saw.\n\nThree very large persons sitting round a very large fire of beech-logs. They were toasting mutton on long spits of wood, and licking the gravy off their fingers. There was a fine toothsome smell. Also there was a barrel of good drink at hand, and they were drinking out of jugs. But they were trolls. Obviously trolls. Even Bilbo, in spite of his sheltered life, could see that: from the great heavy faces of them, and their size, and the shape of their legs, not to mention their language, which was not drawing-room fashion at all, at all.\n\n\"Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey, if it don't look like mutton again tomorrer,\" said one of the trolls.\n\n\"Never a blinking bit of manflesh have we had for long enough,\" said a second. \"What the \"ell William was a-thinkin\" of to bring us into these parts at all, beats me-and the drink runnin'short, what's more,\" he said jogging the elbow of William, who was taking a pull at his jug." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "William choked. \"Shut yer mouth!\" he said as soon as he could. \"Yer can't expect folk to stop here forever just to beet by you and Bert. You've eta village and a half between yer, since we comedown from the mountains. How much more d'yer want? And time's been up our way, when yer'd have said'thank yer Bill'fora nice bit o\" fat valley mutton like what this is.\" He took a big bite off a sheep's leg he was roasting, and wiped his lips on his sleeve.\n\nYes, I am afraid trolls do behave like that, even those with only one head each. After hearing all this Bilbo ought to have done something at once. Either he should have gone back quietly and warned his friends that there were three fair-sized trolls at hand in a nasty mood, quite likely to try roasted dwarf, or even pony, fora change; or else he should have done a bit of good quick burgling. A really first-class and legendary burglar would at this point have picked the trolls' pockets-it is nearly always worthwhile, if you can manage it-, pinched the very mutton off the spits, purloined the beer, and walked off without their noticing him. Others more practical but with less professional pride would perhaps have stuck a dagger into each of them before they observed it. Then the night could have been spent cheerily.\n\nBilbo knew it. He had read of a good many things he had never seen or done. He was very much alarmed, as well as disgusted; he wished himself a hundred miles away, and yet-and yet somehow he could not go straight back to Thorin and Company emptyhanded. So he stood and hesitated in the shadows. Of the various burglarious proceedings he had heard of picking the trolls' pockets seemed the least difficult, so at last he crept behind a tree just behind William." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bert and Tom went off to the barrel. William was having another drink. Then Bilbo plucked up courage and put his little hand in William's enormous pocket. There was a purse in it, as big as a bag to Bilbo. \"Ha!\" thought he, warming to his new work as he lifted it carefully out, \"this is a beginning!\"\n\nIt was! Trolls'purses are the mischief, and this was no exception. \"\"Ere, 'oo are you?\" it squeaked, as it left the pocket; and William turned round at once and grabbed Bilbo by the neck, before he could duck behind the tree.\n\n\"Blimey, Bert, look what I've copped!\" said William.\n\n\"What is it?\" said the others coming up. \"Lumme, if I knows! What are yer?\"\n\n\"Bilbo Baggins, a bur-a hobbit,\" said poor Bilbo, shaking allover, and wondering how to make owl-noises before they throttled him.\n\n\"A burrahobbit?\" said they a bit startled. Trolls are slow in the uptake, and mighty suspicious about anything new to them.\n\n\"What's a burrahobbit got to do with my pocket, anyways?\" said William.\n\n\"And can yer cook 'em?\" said Tom.\n\n\"Yer can try,\" said Bert, picking up a skewer.\n\n\"He wouldn't make above a mouthful,\" said William, who had already had a fine supper, \"not when he was skinned and boned.\"\n\n\"P'raps there are more like him roundabout, and we might make a pie,\" said Bert. \"Here you, are there anymore of your sorta-sneakin\" in these here woods, yer nassty little rabbit,\" said he looking at the hobbit's furry feet; and he picked him up by the toes and shook him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes, lots,\" said Bilbo, before he remembered not to give his friends away. \"No none at all, not one,\" he said immediately afterwards.\n\n\"What d'yer mean?\" said Bert, holding him right way up, by the hair this time.\n\n\"What I say,\" said Bilbo gasping. \"And please don't cook me, kind sirs! I am a good cook myself, and cook better than I cook, if you see what I mean. I'll cook beautifully for you, a perfectly beautiful breakfast for you, if only you won't have me for supper.\"\n\n\"Poor little blighter,\" said William. He had already had as much supper as he could hold; also he had had lots of beer. \"Poor little blighter! Let him go!\"\n\n\"Not till he says what he means by lots and none at all,\" said Bert. \"I don't want to have me throat cut in me sleep! Hold his toes in the fire, till he talks!\"\n\n\"I won't have it,\" said William. \"I caught him anyway.\"\n\n\"You're a fat fool, William,\" said Bert, \"as I've said afore this evening.\"\n\n\"And you're a lout!\"\n\n\"And I won't take that from you, Bill Huggins,\" says Bert, and puts his fist in William's eye.\n\nThen there was a gorgeous row. Bilbo had just enough wits left, when Bert dropped him on the ground, to scramble out of the way of their feet, before they were fighting like dogs, and calling one another all sorts of perfectly true and applicable names in very loud voices. Soon they were locked in one another's arms, and rolling nearly into the fire kicking and thumping, while Tom whacked at them both with a branch to bring them to their senses-and that of course only made them madder than ever." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That would have been the time for Bilbo to have left. But his poor little feet had been very squashed in Bert's big paw, and he had no breath in his body, and his head was going round; so there he lay fora while panting, just outside the circle of firelight.\n\nRight in the middle of the fight up came Balin. The dwarves had heard noises from a distance, and after waiting for sometime for Bilbo to comeback, or to hoot like an owl, they started off one by one to creep towards the light as quietly as they could. No sooner did Tom see Balin come into the light than he gave an awful howl. Trolls simply detest the very sight of dwarves (uncooked). Bert and Bill stopped fighting immediately, and'a sack, Tom, quick!\" they said. Before Balin, who was wondering wherein all this commotion Bilbo was, knew what was happening, a sack was over his head, and he was down.\n\n\"There's more to come yet,\" said Tom, \"or I'm mighty mistook. Lots and none at all, it is,\" said he. \"No burrahobbits, but lots of these here dwarves. That's about the shape of it!\"\n\n\"I reckon you're right,\" said Bert, \"and we'd best get out of the light.\"\n\nAnd so they did. With sacks in their hands, that they used for carrying off mutton and other plunder, they waited in the shadows. As each dwarf came up and looked at the fire, and the spilled jugs, and the gnawed mutton, in surprise, pop! went a nasty smelly sack over his head, and he was down. Soon Dwalin lay by Balin, and Fili and Kili together, and Dori and Nori and Ori all in a heap, and Oin and Gloin and Bifur and Bofur and Bombur piled uncomfortably near the fire." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That'll teach'em,\" said Tom; for Bifur and Bombur had given a lot of trouble, and fought like mad, as dwarves will when cornered.\n\nThorin came last-and he was not caught unawares. He came expecting mischief, and didn't need to see his friends\" legs sticking out of sacks to tell him that things were not all well. He stood outside in the shadows someway off, and said: \"What's all this trouble? Who has been knocking my people about?\"\n\n\"It's trolls!\" said Bilbo from behind a tree. They had forgotten all about him. \"They're hiding in the bushes with sacks,\" said he.\n\n\"O! are they?\" said Thorin, and he jumped forward to the fire, before they could leap on him. He caught up a big branch all on fire atone end; and Bert got that end in his eye before he could step aside. That put him out of the battle fora bit. Bilbo did his best. He caught hold of Tom's leg-as well as he could, it was thick as a young tree-trunk-but he was sent spinning up into the top of some bushes, when Tom kicked the sparks up in Thorin's face.\n\nThe Trolls\n\nTom got the branch in his teeth for that, and lost one of the front ones. It made him howl, I can tell you. But just at that moment William came up behind and popped a sack right over Thorin's head and down to his toes. And so the fight ended. A nice pickle they were all in now: all neatly tied up in sacks, with three angry trolls (and two with burns and bashes to remember) sitting by them, arguing whether they should roast them slowly, or mince them fine and boil them, or just sit on them one by one and squash them into jelly; and Bilbo up in a bush, with his clothes and his skin torn, not daring to move for fear they should hear him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was just then that Gandalf came back. But no one saw him. The trolls had just decided to roast the dwarves now and eat them later-that was Bert's idea, and after a lot of argument they had all agreed to it.\n\n\"No good roasting \"em now, it'd take all night,\" said a voice. Bert thought it was William's.\n\n\"Don't start the argument allover again, Bill,\" he said, \"or it will take all night.\"\n\n\"Who's a-arguing?\" said William, who thought it was Bert that had spoken.\n\n\"You are,\" said Bert.\n\n\"You're a liar,\" said William; and so the argument began allover again. In the end they decided to mince them fine and boil them. So they got a great black pot, and they took out their knives.\n\n\"No good boiling \"em! We ain't got no water, and it's along way to the well and all,\" said a voice. Bert and William thought it was Tom's.\n\n\"Shut up!\" said they, \"or we'll never have done. And yer can fetch the water yerself, if yer say anymore.\"\n\n\"Shut up yerself!\" said Tom, who thought it was William's voice. \"Who's arguing but you, I'd like to know.\"\n\n\"You're a booby,\" said William.\n\n\"Booby yerself!\" said Tom.\n\nAnd so the argument began allover again, and went on hotter than ever, until at last they decided to sit on the sacks one by one and squash them, and boil them next time.\n\n\"Who shall we sit on first?\" said the voice.\n\n\"Better sit on the last fellow first,\" said Bert, whose eye had been damaged by Thorin. He thought Tom was talking." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Don't talk to yerself!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said Tom. \"But if you wants to sit on the last one, sit on him. Which is he?\"\n\n\"The one with the yellow stockings,\" said Bert.\n\n\"Nonsense, the one with the grey stockings,\" said a voice like William's.\n\n\"I made sure it was yellow,\" said Bert.\n\n\"Yellow it was,\" said William.\n\n\"Then what did yer say it was grey for?\" said Bert.\n\n\"I never did. Tom said it.\"\n\n\"That I never did!\" said Tom. \"It was you.\"\n\n\"Two to one, so shut yer mouth!\" said Bert.\n\n\"Who are you a-talkin' to?\" said William.\n\n\"Now stop it!\" said Tom and Bert together. \"The night's gettin\" on, and dawn comes early. Let's get on with it!\"\n\n\"Dawn take you all, and be stone to you!\" said a voice that sounded like William's. But it wasn't. For just at that moment the light came over the hill, and there was a mighty twitter in the branches. William never spoke for he stood turned to stone as he stooped; and Bert and Tom were stuck like rocks as they looked at him. And there they stand to this day, all alone, unless the birds perch on them; for trolls, as you probably know, must be underground before dawn, or they go back to the stuff of the mountains they are made of, and never move again. That is what had happened to Bert and Tom and William.\n\n\"Excellent!\" said Gandalf, as he stepped from behind a tree, and helped Bilbo to climb down out of a thorn-bush. Then Bilbo understood. It was the wizard's voice that had kept the trolls bickering and quarrelling, until the light came and made an end of them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The next thing was to untie the sacks and let out the dwarves. They were nearly suffocated, and very annoyed: they had not at all enjoyed lying there listening to the trolls making plans for roasting them and squashing them and mincing them. They had to hear Bilbo's account of what had happened to him twice over, before they were satisfied.\n\n\"Silly time to go practising pinching and pocket-picking,\" said Bombur, \"when what we wanted was fire and food!\"\n\n\"And that's just what you wouldn't have got of those fellows without a struggle, in any case,\" said Gandalf. \"Anyhow you are wasting time now. Don't you realize that the trolls must have a cave or a hole dug somewhere near to hide from the sun in? We must look into it!\"\n\nThey searched about, and soon found the marks of trolls' stony boots going away through the trees. They followed the tracks up the hill, until hidden by bushes they came on a big door of stone leading to a cave. But they could not open it, not though they all pushed while Gandalf tried various incantations.\n\n\"Would this be any good?\" asked Bilbo, when they were getting tired and angry. \"I found it on the ground where the trolls had their fight.\" He held out a largish key, though no doubt William had thought it very small and secret. It must have fallen out of his pocket, very luckily, before he was turned to stone.\n\n\"Why on earth didn't you mention it before?\" they cried. Gandalf grabbed it and fitted it into the keyhole. Then the stone door swung back with one big push, and they all went inside. There were bones on the floor and a nasty smell was in the air; but there was a good deal of food jumbled carelessly on shelves and on the ground, among an untidy litter of plunder, of all sorts from brass buttons to pots full of gold coins standing in a corner. There were lots of clothes, too, hanging on the walls-too small for trolls, I am afraid they belonged to victims-and among them were several swords of various makes, shapes, and sizes. Two caught their eyes particularly, because of their beautiful scabbards and jewelled hilts." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Gandalf and Thorin each took one of these; and Bilbo took a knife in a leather sheath." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It would have made only a tiny pocket-knife fora troll, but it was as good as a short sword for the hobbit.\n\n\"These look like good blades,\" said the wizard, half drawing them and looking at them curiously. \"They were not made by any troll, nor by any smith among men in these parts and days; but when we can read the runes on them, we shall know more about them.\"\n\n\"Let's get out of this horrible smell!\" said Fili. So they carried out the pots of coins, and such food as was untouched and looked fit to eat, also one barrel of ale which was still full. By that time they felt like breakfast, and being very hungry they did not turn their noses up at what they had got from the trolls\" larder. Their own provisions were very scanty. Now they had bread and cheese, and plenty of ale, and bacon to toast in the embers of the fire.\n\nAfter that they slept, for their night had been disturbed; and they did nothing more till the afternoon. Then they brought up their ponies, and carried away the pots of gold, and buried them very secretly not far from the track by the river, putting a great many spells over them, just in case they ever had the chance to comeback and recover them. When that was done, they all mounted once more, and jogged along again on the path towards the East.\n\n\"Where did you go to, if I may ask?\" said Thorin to Gandalf as they rode along.\n\n\"To look ahead,\" said he.\n\n\"And what brought you back in the nick of time?\" \"Looking behind,\" said he.\n\n\"Exactly!\" said Thorin; \"but could you be more plain?\"\n\n\"I went onto spy out our road. It will soon become dangerous and difficult. Also I was anxious about replenishing our small stock of provisions. I had not gone very far, however, when I meta couple of friends of mine from Rivendell.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Where's that?\" asked Bilbo.\n\n\"Don't interrupt!\" said Gandalf. \" You will get therein a few days now, if we're lucky, and find out all about it. As I was saying I met two of Elrond's people. They were hurrying along for fear of the trolls. It was they who told me that three of them had comedown from the mountains and settled in the woods not far from the road: they had frightened everyone away from the district, and they waylaid strangers.\n\n\"I immediately had a feeling that I was wanted back. Looking behind I saw afire in the distance and made for it. So now you know. Please be more careful, next time, or we shall never get anywhere!\"\n\n\"Thank you!\" said Thorin." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They did not sing or tell stories that day, even though the weather improved; nor the next day, nor the day after. They had begun to feel that danger was not faraway on either side. They camped under the stars, and their horses had more to eat than they had; for there was plenty of grass, but there was not much in their bags, even with what they had got from the trolls. One morning they forded a river at a wide shallow place full of the noise of stones and foam. The far bank was steep and slippery. When they got to the top of it, leading their ponies, they saw that the great mountains had marched down very near to them. Already they seemed only a day's easy journey from the feet of the nearest. Dark and drear it looked, though there were patches of sunlight on its brown sides, and behind its shoulders the tips of snow-peaks gleamed.\n\n\"Is that The Mountain?\" asked Bilbo in a solemn voice, looking at it with round eyes. He had never seen a thing that looked so big before.\n\n\"Of course not!\" said Balin. \"That is only the beginning of the Misty Mountains, and we have got to get through, or over, or under those somehow, before we can come into Wilderland beyond. And it is a deal of away even from the other side of them to the Lonely Mountain in the East where Smaug lies on our treasure.\"\n\n\"O!\" said Bilbo, and just at that moment he felt more tired than he ever remembered feeling before. He was thinking once again of his comfortable chair before the fire in his favourite sitting-room in his hobbit-hole, and of the kettle singing. Not for the last time!\n\nNow Gandalf led the way. \"We must not miss the road, or we shall be done for,\" he said. \"We need food, for one thing, and rest in reasonable safety-also it is very necessary to tackle the Misty Mountains by the proper path, or else you will get lost in them, and have to comeback and start at the beginning again (if you ever get back at all).\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They asked him where he was making for, and he answered: \"You are come to the very edge of the Wild, as some of you may know. Hidden somewhere ahead of us is the fair valley of Rivendell where Elrond lives in the Last Homely House. I sent a message by my friends, and we are expected.\"\n\nThat sounded nice and comforting, but they had not got there yet, and it was not so easy as it sounds to find the Last Homely House west of the Mountains. There seemed to be no trees and no valleys and no hills to break the ground in front of them, only one vast slope going slowly up and up to meet the feet of the nearest mountain, a wide land the colour of heather and crumbling rock, with patches and slashes of grass-green and moss-green showing where water might be.\n\nMorning passed, afternoon came; but in all the silent waste there was no sign of any dwelling. They were growing anxious, for they saw now that the house might be hidden almost anywhere between them and the mountains. They came on unexpected valleys, narrow with steep sides, that opened suddenly at their feet, and they looked down surprised to see trees below them and running water at the bottom. There were gullies that they could almost leap over, but very deep with waterfalls in them. There were dark ravines that one could neither jump over nor climb into. There were bogs, some of them green pleasant places to look at, with flowers growing bright and tall; but a pony that walked therewith a pack on its back would never have come out again.\n\nIt was indeed a much wider land from the ford to the mountains than ever you would have guessed. Bilbo was astonished. The only path was marked with white stones, some of which were small, and others were half covered with moss or heather. Altogether it was a very slow business following the track, even guided by Gandalf, who seemed to know his way about pretty well." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His head and beard wagged this way and that as he looked for the stones, and they followed his lead, but they seemed no nearer to the end of the search when the day began to fail. Tea-time had long gone by, and it seemed supper-time would soon do the same. There were moths fluttering about, and the light became very dim, for the moon had not risen. Bilbo's pony began to stumble over roots and stones. They came to the edge of a steep fall in the ground so suddenly that Gandalf's horse nearly slipped down the slope.\n\n\"Here it is at last!\" he called, and the others gathered round him and looked over the edge. They saw a valley far below. They could hear the voice of hurrying water in a rocky bed at the bottom; the scent of trees was in the air; and there was alight on the valley-side across the water.\n\nBilbo never forgot the way they slithered and slipped in the dusk down the steep zig-zag path into the secret valley of Rivendell. The air grew warmer as they got lower, and the smell of the pine-trees made him drowsy, so that every now and again he nodded and nearly fell off, or bumped his nose on the pony's neck. Their spirits rose as they went down and down. The trees changed to beech and oak, and there was a comfortable feeling in the twilight. The last green had almost faded out of the grass, when they came at length to an open glade not far above the banks of the stream.\n\n\"Hmmm! it smells like elves!\" thought Bilbo, and he looked up at the stars. They were burning bright and blue. Just then there came a burst of song like laughter in the trees:\n\nO! What are you doing," }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And where are you going?\n\nYour ponies need shoeing!\n\nThe river is flowing!\n\nO! tra-la-la-lally\n\nhere down in the valley!\n\nO! What are you seeking,\n\nAnd where are you making?\n\nThe faggots are reeking,\n\nThe bannocks are baking!\n\nO! tril-lil-lil-lolly\n\nthe valley is jolly,\n\nha! ha!\n\nO! Where are you going\n\nWith beards all a-wagging?\n\nNo knowing, no knowing\n\nWhat brings Mister Baggins\n\nAnd Balin and Dwalin\n\ndown into the valley\n\nin June\n\nha! ha!\n\nO! Will you be staying,\n\nOr will you be flying?\n\nYour ponies are straying!\n\nThe daylight is dying!\n\nTo fly would be folly,\n\nTo stay would be jolly\n\nAnd listen and hark\n\nTill the end of the dark\n\nto our tune\n\nha! ha!\n\nSo they laughed and sang in the trees; and pretty fair nonsense I daresay you think it. Not that they would care; they would only laugh all the more if you told them so. They were elves of course. Soon Bilbo caught glimpses of them as the darkness deepened. He loved elves, though he seldom met them; but he was a little frightened of them too. Dwarves don't get on well with them. Even decent enough dwarves like Thorin and his friends think them foolish (which is a very foolish thing to think), or get annoyed with them. For some elves tease them and laugh at them, and most of all at their beards." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well, well!\" said a voice. \"Just look! Bilbo the hobbit on a pony, my dear! Isn't it delicious!\"\n\n\"Most astonishing wonderful!\"\n\nThen off they went into another song as ridiculous as the one I have written down in full. At last one, a tall young fellow, came out from the trees and bowed to Gandalf and to Thorin.\n\n\"Welcome to the valley!\" he said.\n\n\"Thank you!\" said Thorin a bit gruffly; but Gandalf was already off his horse and among the elves, talking merrily with them.\n\n\"You area little out of your way,\" said the elf: \"that is, if you are making for the only path across the water and to the house beyond. We will set you right, but you had best get on foot, until you are over the bridge. Are you going to stay a bit and sing with us, or will you go straight on? Supper is preparing over there,\" he said. \"I can smell the wood-fires for the cooking.\"\n\nTired as he was, Bilbo would have liked to stay awhile. Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars, not if you care for such things. Also he would have liked to have a few private words with these people that seemed to know his names and all about him, although he had never seen them before. He thought their opinion of his adventure might be interesting. Elves know a lot and are wondrous folk for news, and know what is going on among the peoples of the land, as quick as water flows, or quicker.\n\nBut the dwarves were all for supper as soon as possible just then, and would not stay. On they all went, leading their ponies, till they were brought to a good path and so at last to the very brink of the river. It was flowing fast and noisily, as mountain-streams do of a summer evening, when sun has been all day on the snow far up above. There was only a narrow bridge of stone without a parapet, as narrow as a pony could well walk on; and over that they had to go, slow and careful, one by one, each leading his pony by the bridle. The elves had brought bright lanterns to the shore, and they sang a merry song as the party went across." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Don't dip your beard in the foam, father!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "they cried to Thorin, who was bent almost onto his hands and knees. \"It is long enough without watering it.\"\n\n\"Mind Bilbo doesn't eat all the cakes!\" they called. \"He is too fat to get through key-holes yet!\"\n\n\"Hush, hush! Good People! and goodnight!\" said Gandalf, who came last. \"Valleys have ears, and some elves have over merry tongues. Goodnight!\"\n\nAnd so at last they all came to the Last Homely House, and found its doors flung wide.\n\nNow it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway. They stayed long in that good house, fourteen days at least, and they found it hard to leave. Bilbo would gladly have stopped therefor ever and ever-even supposing a wish would have taken him right back to his hobbit-hole without trouble. Yet there is little to tell about their stay.\n\nThe master of the house was an elf-friend-one of those people whose fathers came into the strange stories before the beginning of History, the wars of the evil goblins and the elves and the first men in the North. In those days of our tale there were still some people who had both elves and heroes of the North for ancestors, and Elrond the master of the house was their chief.\n\nHe was as noble and as fair in face as an elf-lord, as strong as a warrior, as wise as a wizard, as venerable as a king of dwarves, and as kind as summer. He comes into many tales, but his part in the story of Bilbo's great adventure is only a small one, though important, as you will see, if we ever get to the end of it. His house was perfect, whether you liked food, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Evil things did not come into that valley." }, { "from": "human", "value": "I wish I had time to tell you even a few of the tales or one or two of the songs that they heard in that house." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All of them, the ponies as well, grew refreshed and strong in a few days there. Their clothes were mended as well as their bruises, their tempers and their hopes. Their bags were filled with food and provisions light to carry but strong to bring them over the mountain passes. Their plans were improved with the best advice. So the time came to midsummer eve, and they were to goon again with the early sun on midsummer morning.\n\nElrond knew all about runes of every kind. That day he looked at the swords they had brought from the trolls'lair, and he said: \"These are not troll-make. They are old swords, very old swords of the High Elves of the West, my kin. They were made in Gondolin for the Goblin-wars. They must have come from a dragon's hoard or goblin plunder, for dragons and goblins destroyed that city many ages ago. This, Thorin, the runes name Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver in the ancient tongue of Gondolin; it was a famous blade. This, Gandalf, was Glamdring, Foe-hammer that the king of Gondolin once wore. Keep them well!\"\n\n\"Whence did the trolls get them, I wonder?\" said Thorin looking at his sword with new interest.\n\n\"I could not say,\" said Elrond, \"but one may guess that your trolls had plundered other plunderers, or come on the remnants of old robberies in some hold in the mountains. I have heard that there are still forgotten treasures of old to be found in the deserted caverns of the mines of Moria, since the dwarf and goblin war.\"\n\nThorin pondered these words. \"I will keep this sword in honour,\" he said. \"May it soon cleave goblins once again!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A wish that is likely to be granted soon enough in the mountains!\" said Elrond. \"But show me now your map!\"\n\nHe took it and gazed long at it, and he shook his head; for if he did not altogether approve of dwarves and their love of gold, he hated dragons and their cruel wickedness, and he grieved to remember the ruin of the town of Dale and its merry bells, and the burned banks of the bright River Running. The moon was shining in abroad silver crescent. He held up the map and the white light shone through it. \"What is this?\" he said. \"There are moon-letters here, beside the plain runes which say \"five feet high the door and three may walk abreast.\"\"\n\n\"What are moon-letters?\" asked the hobbit full of excitement. He loved maps, as I have told you before; and he also liked runes and letters and cunning handwriting, though when he wrote himself it was a bit thin and spidery.\n\n\"Moon-letters are rune-letters, but you cannot see them,\" said Elrond, \"not when you look straight at them. They can only be seen when the moonshines behind them, and what is more, with the more cunning sort it must be a moon of the same shape and season as the day when they were written. The dwarves invented them and wrote them with silver pens, as your friends could tell you. These must have been written on a midsummer's eve in a crescent moon, along while ago.\"\n\n\"What do they say?\" asked Gandalf and Thorin together, a bit vexed perhaps that even Elrond should have found this out first, though really there had not been a chance before, and there would not have been another until goodness knows when." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Standby the grey stone when the thrush knocks,\" read Elrond, \"and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the key-hole.\"\n\n\"Durin, Durin!\" said Thorin. \"He was the father of the fathers of the eldest race of Dwarves, the Longbeards, and my first ancestor: I am his heir.\"\n\n\"Then what is Durin's Day?\" asked Elrond.\n\n\"The first day of the dwarves'New Year,\" said Thorin, \"is as all should know the first day of the last moon of Autumn on the threshold of Winter. We still call it Durin's Day when the last moon of Autumn and the sun are in the sky together. But this will not help us much, I fear, for it passes our skill in these days to guess when such a time will come again.\"\n\n\"That remains to be seen,\" said Gandalf. \"Is there anymore writing?\"\n\n\"None to be seen by this moon,\" said Elrond, and he gave the map back to Thorin; and then they went down to the water to seethe elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.\n\nThe next morning was a midsummer's morning as fair and fresh as could be dreamed: blue sky and never a cloud, and the sun dancing on the water. Now they rode away amid songs of farewell and good speed, with their hearts ready for more adventure, and with a knowledge of the road they must follow over the Misty Mountains to the land beyond." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There were many paths that led up into those mountains, and many passes over them. But most of the paths were cheats and deceptions and led nowhere or to bad ends; and most of the passes were infested by evil things and dreadful dangers. The dwarves and the hobbit, helped by the wise advice of Elrond and the knowledge and memory of Gandalf, took the right road to the right pass.\n\nLong days after they had climbed out of the valley and left the Last Homely House miles behind, they were still going up and up and up. It was a hard path and a dangerous path, a crooked way and a lonely and along. Now they could look back over the lands they had left, laid out behind them far below. Far, faraway in the West, where things were blue and faint, Bilbo knew there lay his own country of safe and comfortable things, and his little hobbit-hole. He shivered. It was getting bitter cold up here, and the wind came shrill among the rocks. Boulders, too, at times came galloping down the mountain-sides, let loose by mid-day sun upon the snow, and passed among them (which was lucky), or over their heads (which was alarming). The nights were comfortless and chill, and they did not dare to sing or talk too loud, for the echoes were uncanny, and the silence seemed to dislike being broken-except by the noise of water and the wail of wind and the crack of stone.\n\n\"The summer is getting on down below,\" thought Bilbo, \"and haymaking is going on and picnics. They will be harvesting and blackberrying, before we even begin to go down the other side at this rate.\" And the others were thinking equally gloomy thoughts, although when they had said good-bye to Elrond in the high hope of a midsummer morning, they had spoken gaily of the passage of the mountains, and of riding swift across the lands beyond. They had thought of coming to the secret door in the Lonely Mountain, perhaps that very next last moon of Autumn-\"and perhaps it will be Durin's Day\" they had said. Only Gandalf had shaken his head and said nothing. Dwarves had not passed that way for many years, but Gandalf had, and he knew how evil and danger had grown and thriven in the Wild, since the dragons had driven men from the lands, and the goblins had spread in secret after the battle of the Mines of Moria. Even the good plans of wise wizards like Gandalf and of good friends like Elrond go astray sometimes when you are off on dangerous adventures over the Edge of the Wild; and Gandalf was a wise enough wizard to know it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He knew that something unexpected might happen, and he hardly dared to hope that they would pass without fearful adventure over those great tall mountains with lonely peaks and valleys where no king ruled." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They did not. All was well, until one day they meta thunderstorm-more than a thunderstorm, a thunder-battle. You know how terrific a really big thunderstorm can be down in the land and in a river-valley; especially at times when two great thunderstorms meet and clash. More terrible still are thunder and lightning in the mountains at night, when storms come up from East and West and make war. The lightning splinters on the peaks, and rocks shiver, and great crashes split the air and go rolling and tumbling into every cave and hollow; and the darkness is filled with overwhelming noise and sudden light.\n\nBilbo had never seen or imagined anything of the kind. They were high up in a narrow place, with a dreadful fall into a dim valley atone side of them. There they were sheltering under a hanging rock for the night, and he lay beneath a blanket and shook from head to toe. When he peeped out in the lightning-flashes, he saw that across the valley the stone-giants were out, and were hurling rocks atone another fora game, and catching them, and tossing them down into the darkness where they smashed among the trees far below, or splintered into little bits with a bang. Then came a wind and a rain, and the wind whipped the rain and the hail about in every direction, so that an overhanging rock was no protection at all. Soon they were getting drenched and their ponies were standing with their heads down and their tails between their legs, and some of them were whinnying with fright. They could hear the giants guffawing and shouting allover the mountainsides.\n\n\"This won't do at all!\" said Thorin. \"If we don't get blown off, or drowned, or struck by lightning, we shall be picked up by some giant and kicked sky-high fora football.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Mountain-path\n\n\"Well, if you know of anywhere better, take us there!\" said Gandalf, who was feeling very grumpy, and was far from happy about the giants himself.\n\nThe end of their argument was that they sent Fili and Kili to look fora better shelter. They had very sharp eyes, and being the youngest of the dwarves by some fifty years they usually got these sort of jobs (when everybody could see that it was absolutely no use sending Bilbo). There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something (or so Thorin said to the young dwarves). You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after. So it proved on this occasion.\n\nSoon Fili and Kili came crawling back, holding onto the rocks in the wind. \"We have found a dry cave,\" they said, \"not far round the next corner; and ponies and all could get inside.\"\n\n\"Have you thoroughly explored it?\" said the wizard, who knew that caves up in the mountains were seldom unoccupied.\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" they said, though everybody knew they could not have been long about it; they had comeback too quick. \"It isn't all that big, and it does not go far back.\"\n\nThat, of course, is the dangerous part about caves: you don't know how far they go back, sometimes, or where a passage behind may lead to, or what is waiting for you inside. But now Fili and Kili's news seemed good enough. So they all got up and prepared to move. The wind was howling and the thunder still growling, and they had a business getting themselves and their ponies along. Still it was not very far to go, and before long they came to a big rock standing out into the path. If you stepped behind, you found a low arch in the side of the mountain. There was just room to get the ponies through with a squeeze, when they had been unpacked and unsaddled. As they passed under the arch, it was good to hear the wind and the rain outside instead of all about them, and to feel safe from the giants and their rocks. But the wizard was taking no risks. He lit up his wand-as he did that day in Bilbo's dining-room that seemed so long ago, if you remember-, and by its light they explored the cave from end to end." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It seemed quite a fair size, but not too large and mysterious. It had a dry floor and some comfortable nooks. Atone end there was room for the ponies; and there they stood (mighty glad of the change) steaming, and champing in their nosebags. Oin and Gloin wanted to light afire at the door to dry their clothes, but Gandalf would not hear of it. So they spread out their wet things on the floor, and got dry ones out of their bundles; then they made their blankets comfortable, got out their pipes and blew smoke rings, which Gandalf turned into different colours and set dancing up by the roof to amuse them. They talked and talked, and forgot about the storm, and discussed what each would do with his share of the treasure (when they got it, which at the moment did not seem so impossible); and so they dropped off to sleep one by one. And that was the last time that they used the ponies, packages, baggages, tools and paraphernalia that they had brought with them.\n\nIt turned out a good thing that night that they had brought little Bilbo with them, after all. For, somehow, he could not go to sleep fora long while; and when he did sleep, he had very nasty dreams. He dreamed that a crack in the wall at the back of the cave got bigger and bigger, and opened wider and wider, and he was very afraid but could not call out or do anything but lie and look. Then he dreamed that the floor of the cave was giving way, and he was slipping-beginning to fall down, down, goodness knows whereto.\n\nAt that he woke up with a horrible start, and found that part of his dream was true. A crack had opened at the back of the cave, and was already a wide passage. He was just in time to seethe last of the ponies' tails disappearing into it. Of course he gave a very loud yell, as loud a yell as a hobbit can give, which is surprising for their size." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Out jumped the goblins, big goblins, great ugly-looking goblins, lots of goblins, before you could say rocks and blocks. There were six to each dwarf, at least, and two even for Bilbo; and they were all grabbed and carried through the crack, before you could say tinder and flint. But not Gandalf. Bilbo's yell had done that much good. It had wakened him up wide in a splintered second, and when goblins came to grab him, there was a terrific flash like lightning in the cave, a smell like gunpowder, and several of them fell dead.\n\nThe crack closed with a snap, and Bilbo and the dwarves were on the wrong side of it! Where was Gandalf? Of that neither they nor the goblins had any idea, and the goblins did not wait to find out. They seized Bilbo and the dwarves and hurried them along. It was deep, deep, dark, such as only goblins that have taken to living in the heart of the mountains can see through. The passages there were crossed and tangled in all directions, but the goblins knew their way, as well as you do to the nearest post-office; and the way went down and down, and it was most horribly stuffy. The goblins were very rough, and pinched unmercifully, and chuckled and laughed in their horrible stony voices; and Bilbo was more unhappy even than when the troll had picked him up by his toes. He wished again and again for his nice bright hobbit-hole. Not for the last time.\n\nNow there came a glimmer of a red light before them. The goblins began to sing, or croak, keeping time with the flap of their flatfeet on the stone, and shaking their prisoners as well." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Clap! Snap! the black crack!\n\nGrip, grab! Pinch, nab!\n\nAnd down down to Goblin-town\n\nYou go, my lad!\n\nClash, crash! Crush, smash!\n\nHammer and tongs! Knocker and gongs! Pound, pound, far underground!\n\nHo, ho! my lad!\n\nSwish, smack! Whip crack!\n\nBatter and beat! Yammer and bleat! Work, work! Nor dare to shirk,\n\nWhile Goblins quaff, and Goblins laugh, Round and round far underground\n\nBelow, my lad!\n\nIt sounded truly terrifying. The walls echoed to the clap, snap! and the crush, smash! and to the ugly laughter of their ho, ho! my lad! The general meaning of the song was only too plain; for now the goblins took out whips and whipped them with a swish, smack! , and set them running as fast as they could in front of them; and more than one of the dwarves were already yammering and bleating like anything, when they stumbled into a big cavern.\n\nIt was lit by a great red fire in the middle, and by torches along the walls, and it was full of goblins. They all laughed and stamped and clapped their hands, when the dwarves (with poor little Bilbo at the back and nearest to the whips) came running in, while the goblin-drivers whooped and cracked their whips behind. The ponies were already there huddled in a corner; and there were all the baggages and packages lying broken open, and being rummaged by goblins, and smelt by goblins, and fingered by goblins, and quarrelled over by goblins." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I am afraid that was the last they ever saw of those excellent little ponies, including a jolly sturdy little white fellow that Elrond had lent to Gandalf, since his horse was not suitable for the mountain-paths. For goblins eat horses and ponies and donkeys (and other much more dreadful things), and they are always hungry. Just now however the prisoners were thinking only of themselves. The goblins chained their hands behind their backs and linked them all together in a line, and dragged them to the far end of the cavern with little Bilbo tugging at the end of the row.\n\nTherein the shadows on a large flat stone sat a tremendous goblin with a huge head, and armed goblins were standing round him carrying the axes and the bent swords that they use. Now goblins are cruel, wicked, and bad-hearted. They make no beautiful things, but they make many clever ones. They can tunnel and mine as well as any but the most skilled dwarves, when they take the trouble, though they are usually untidy and dirty. Hammers, axes, swords, daggers, pickaxes, tongs, and also instruments of torture, they make very well, or get other people to make to their design, prisoners and slaves that have to work till they die for want of air and light. It is not unlikely that they invented some of the machines that have since troubled the world, especially the ingenious devices for killing large numbers of people at once, for wheels and engines and explosions always delighted them, and also not working with their own hands more than they could help; but in those days and those wild parts they had not advanced (as it is called) so far. They did not hate dwarves especially, no more than they hated everybody and everything, and particularly the orderly and prosperous; in some parts wicked dwarves had even made alliances with them. But they had a special grudge against Thorin's people, because of the war which you have heard mentioned, but which does not come into this tale; and anyway goblins don't care who they catch, as long as it is done smart and secret, and the prisoners are notable to defend themselves." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Who are these miserable persons?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said the Great Goblin.\n\n\"Dwarves, and this!\" said one of the drivers, pulling at Bilbo's chain so that he fell forward onto his knees. \"We found them sheltering in our Front Porch.\"\n\n\"What do you mean by it?\" said the Great Goblin turning to Thorin. \"Up to no good, I'll warrant! Spying on the private business of my people, I guess! Thieves, I shouldn't be surprised to learn! Murderers and friends of Elves, not unlikely! Come! What have you got to say?\"\n\n\"Thorin the dwarf at your service!\" he replied-it was merely a polite nothing. \"Of the things which you suspect and imagine we had no idea at all. We sheltered from a storm in what seemed a convenient cave and unused; nothing was further from our thoughts than inconveniencing goblins in anyway whatever.\" That was true enough!\n\n\"Um!\" said the Great Goblin. \"So you say! Might I ask what you were doing up in the mountains at all, and where you were coming from, and where you were going to? In fact I should like to know all about you. Not that it will do you much good, Thorin Oakenshield, I know too much about your folk already; but let's have the truth, or I will prepare something particularly uncomfortable for you!\"\n\n\"We were on a journey to visit our relatives, our nephews and nieces, and first, second, and third cousins, and the other descendants of our grandfathers, who live on the East side of these truly hospitable mountains,\" said Thorin, not quite knowing what to say all at once in a moment, when obviously the exact truth would not do at all.\n\n\"He is a liar, O truly tremendous one!\" said one of the drivers. \"Several of our people were struck by lightning in the cave, when we invited these creatures to come below; and they areas dead as stones. Also he has not explained this!\" He held out the sword which Thorin had worn, the sword which came from the Trolls' lair." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Great Goblin gave a truly awful howl of rage when he looked at it, and all his soldiers gnashed their teeth, clashed their shields, and stamped. They knew the sword at once. It had killed hundreds of goblins in its time, when the fair elves of Gondolin hunted them in the hills or did battle before their walls. They had called it Orcrist, Goblin-cleaver, but the goblins called it simply Biter. They hated it and hated worse anyone that carried it.\n\n\"Murderers and elf-friends!\" the Great Goblin shouted. \"Slash them! Beat them! Bite them! Gnash them! Take them away to dark holes full of snakes, and never let them seethe light again!\" He was in such a rage that he jumped off his seat and himself rushed at Thorin with his mouth open.\n\nJust at that moment all the lights in the cavern went out, and the great fire went off poof! into a tower of blue glowing smoke, right up to the roof, that scattered piercing white sparks all among the goblins.\n\nThe yells and yammering, croaking, jibbering and jabbering; howls, growls and curses; shrieking and skriking, that followed were beyond description. Several hundred wildcats and wolves being roasted slowly alive together would not have compared with it. The sparks were burning holes in the goblins, and the smoke that now fell from the roof made the air too thick for even their eyes to see through. Soon they were falling over one another and rolling in heaps on the floor, biting and kicking and fighting as if they had all gone mad.\n\nSuddenly a sword flashed in its own light. Bilbo saw it go right through the Great Goblin as he stood dumbfounded in the middle of his rage. He fell dead, and the goblin soldiers fled before the sword shrieking into the darkness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The sword went back into its sheath." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Follow me quick!\" said a voice fierce and quiet; and before Bilbo understood what had happened he was trotting along again, as fast as he could trot, at the end of the line, down more dark passages with the yells of the goblin-hall growing fainter behind him. A pale light was leading them on.\n\n\"Quicker, quicker!\" said the voice. \"The torches will soon be relit.\"\n\n\"Half a minute!\" said Dori, who was at the back next to Bilbo, and a decent fellow. He made the hobbit scramble on his shoulders as best he could with his tied hands, and then off they all went at a run, with a clink-clink of chains, and many a stumble, since they had no hands to steady themselves with. Not fora long while did they stop, and by that time they must have been right down in the very mountain's heart.\n\nThen Gandalf lit up his wand. Of course it was Gandalf; but just then they were too busy to ask how he got there. He took out his sword again, and again it flashed in the dark by itself. It burned with a rage that made it gleam if goblins were about; now it was bright as blue flame for delight in the killing of the great lord of the cave. It made no trouble whatever of cutting through the goblin-chains and setting all the prisoners free as quickly as possible. This sword's name was Glamdring the Foe-hammer, if you remember. The goblins just called it Beater, and hated it worse than Biter if possible. Orcrist, too, had been saved; for\n\nGandalf had brought it along as well, snatching it from one of the terrified guards. Gandalf thought of most things; and though he could not do everything, he could do a great deal for friends in a tight corner." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Are we all here?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said he, handing his sword back to Thorin with a bow. \"Let me see: one-that's Thorin; two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven; where are Fili and Kili? Here they are! twelve, thirteen-and here's Mr. Baggins: fourteen! Well, well! it might be worse, and then again it might be a good deal better. No ponies, and no food, and no knowing quite where we are, and hordes of angry goblins just behind! On we go!\"\n\nOn they went. Gandalf was quite right: they began to hear goblin noises and horrible cries far behind in the passages they had come through. That sent them on faster than ever, and as poor Bilbo could not possibly go half as fast-for dwarves can roll along at a tremendous pace, I can tell you, when they have to-they took it in turn to carry him on their backs.\n\nStill goblins go faster than dwarves, and these goblins knew the way better (they had made the paths themselves), and were madly angry; so that do what they could the dwarves heard the cries and howls getting closer and closer. Soon they could hear even the flap of the goblin feet, many many feet which seemed only just round the last corner. The blink of red torches could be seen behind them in the tunnel they were following; and they were getting deadly tired.\n\n\"Why, O why did I ever leave my hobbit-hole!\" said poor Mr. Baggins bumping up and down on Bombur's back.\n\n\"Why, O why did I ever bring a wretched little hobbit on a treasure hunt!\" said poor Bombur, who was fat, and staggered along with the sweat dripping down his nose in his heat and terror." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At this point Gandalf fell behind, and Thorin with him. They turned a sharp corner. \"About turn!\" he shouted. \"Draw your sword Thorin!\"\n\nThere was nothing else to be done; and the goblins did not like it. They came scurrying round the corner in full cry, and found Goblin-cleaver, and Foe-hammer shining cold and bright right in their astonished eyes. The ones in front dropped their torches and gave one yell before they were killed. The ones behind yelled still more, and leaped back knocking over those that were running after them. \"Biter and Beater!\" they shrieked; and soon they were all in confusion, and most of them were hustling back the way they had come.\n\nIt was quite along while before any of them dared to turn that corner. By that time the dwarves had gone on again, along, long, way on into the dark tunnels of the goblins' realm. When the goblins discovered that, they putout their torches and they slipped on soft shoes, and they chose out their very quickest runners with the sharpest ears and eyes. These ran forward, as swift as weasels in the dark, and with hardly anymore noise than bats.\n\nThat is why neither Bilbo, nor the dwarves, nor even Gandalf heard them coming. Nor did they see them. But they were seen by the goblins that ran silently up behind, for Gandalf was letting his wand give out a faint light to help the dwarves as they went along.\n\nQuite suddenly Dori, now at the back again carrying Bilbo, was grabbed from behind in the dark. He shouted and fell; and the hobbit rolled off his shoulders into the blackness, bumped his head on hard rock, and remembered nothing more." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When Bilbo opened his eyes, he wondered if he had; for it was just as dark as with them shut. No one was anywhere near him. Just imagine his fright! He could hear nothing, see nothing, and he could feel nothing except the stone of the floor.\n\nVery slowly he got up and groped about on all fours, till he touched the wall of the tunnel; but neither up nor down it could he find anything: nothing at all, no sign of goblins, no sign of dwarves. His head was swimming, and he was far from certain even of the direction they had been going in when he had his fall. He guessed as well as he could, and crawled along fora good way, till suddenly his hand met what felt like a tiny ring of cold metal lying on the floor of the tunnel. It was a turning point in his career, but he did not know it. He put the ring in his pocket almost without thinking; certainly it did not seem of any particular use at the moment. He did not go much further, but sat down on the cold floor and gave himself up to complete miserableness, fora long while. He thought of himself frying bacon and eggs in his own kitchen at home-for he could feel inside that it was high time for some meal or other; but that only made him miserabler.\n\nHe could not think what to do; nor could he think what had happened; or why he had been left behind; or why, if he had been left behind, the goblins had not caught him; or even why his head was so sore. The truth was he had been lying quiet, out of sight and out of mind, in a very dark corner fora long while.\n\nAfter sometime he felt for his pipe. It was not broken, and that was something. Then he felt for his pouch, and there was some tobacco in it, and that was something more. Then he felt for matches and he could not find any at all, and that shattered his hopes completely. Just as well for him, as he agreed when he came to his senses. Goodness knows what the striking of matches and the smell of tobacco would have brought on him out of dark holes in that horrible place. Still at the moment he felt very crushed. But in slapping all his pockets and feeling all round himself for matches his hand came on the hilt of his little sword-the little dagger that he got from the trolls, and that he had quite forgotten; nor fortunately had the goblins noticed it, as he wore it inside his breeches." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now he drew it out. It shone pale and dim before his eyes. \"So it is an elvish blade, too,\" he thought; \"and goblins are not very near, and yet not far enough.\"\n\nBut somehow he was comforted. It was rather splendid to be wearing a blade made in Gondolin for the goblin-wars of which so many songs had sung; and also he had noticed that such weapons made a great impression on goblins that came upon them suddenly.\n\n\"Go back?\" he thought. \"No good at all! Go sideways? Impossible! Go forward? Only thing to do! On we go!\" Soup he got, and trotted along with his little sword held in front of him and one hand feeling the wall, and his heart all of a patter and a pitter.\n\nNow certainly Bilbo was in what is called a tight place. But you must remember it was not quite so tight for him as it would have been for me or for you. Hobbits are not quite like ordinary people; and after all if their holes are nice cheery places and properly aired, quite different from the tunnels of the goblins, still they are more used to tunnelling than we are, and they do not easily lose their sense of direction underground-not when their heads have recovered from being bumped. Also they can move very quietly, and hide easily, and recover wonderfully from falls and bruises, and they have a fund of wisdom and wise sayings that men have mostly never heard or have forgotten long ago.\n\nI should not have liked to have been in Mr. Baggins' place, all the same. The tunnel seemed to have no end. All he knew was that it was still going down pretty steadily and keeping in the same direction in spite of a twist and a turn or two. There were passages leading off to the side every now and then, as he knew by the glimmer of his sword, or could feel with his hand on the wall. Of these he took no notice, except to hurry past for fear of goblins or half-imagined dark things coming out of them. On and on he went, and down and down; and still he heard no sound of anything except the occasional whirr of a bat by his ears, which startled him at first, till it became too frequent to bother about. I do not know how long he kept on like this, hating to goon, not daring to stop, on, on, until he was tireder than tired. It seemed like all the way to tomorrow and over it to the days beyond." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Suddenly without any warning he trotted splash into water! Ugh! it was icy cold. That pulled him up sharp and short. He did not know whether it was just a pool in the path, or the edge of an underground stream that crossed the passage, or the brink of a deep dark subterranean lake. The sword was hardly shining at all. He stopped, and he could hear, when he listened hard, drops drip-drip-dripping from an unseen roof into the water below; but there seemed no other sort of sound.\n\n\"So it is a pool or a lake, and not an underground river,\" he thought. Still he did not dare to wade out into the darkness. He could not swim; and he thought, too, of nasty slimy things, with big bulging blind eyes, wriggling in the water. There are strange things living in the pools and lakes in the hearts of mountains: fish whose fathers swam in, goodness only knows how many years ago, and never swam out again, while their eyes grew bigger and bigger and bigger from trying to see in the blackness; also there are other things more slimy than fish. Even in the tunnels and caves the goblins have made for themselves there are other things living unbeknown to them that have sneaked in from outside to lie up in the dark. Some of these caves, too, go back in their beginnings to ages before the goblins, who only widened them and joined them up with passages, and the original owners are still therein odd corners, slinking and nosing about.\n\nDeep down hereby the dark water lived old Gollum, a small slimy creature. I don't know where he came from, nor who or what he was. He was Gollum-as dark as darkness, except for two big round pale eyes in his thin face. He had a little boat, and he rowed about quite quietly on the lake; for lake it was, wide and deep and deadly cold. He paddled it with large feet dangling over the side, but never a ripple did he make. Not he. He was looking out of his pale lamp-like eyes for blind fish, which he grabbed with his long fingers as quick as thinking. He liked meat too. Goblin he thought good, when he could get it; but he took care they never found him out. He just throttled them from behind, if they ever came down alone anywhere near the edge of the water, while he was prowling about. They very seldom did, for they had a feeling that something unpleasant was lurking down there, down at the very roots of the mountain. They had come on the lake, when they were tunnelling down long ago, and they found they could go no further; so there their road ended in that direction, and there was no reason to go that way-unless the Great Goblin sent them. Sometimes he took a fancy for fish from the lake, and sometimes neither goblin nor fish came back." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Assist in storytelling, proceed with the tale.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, quest\nAuthor: J.R.R. Tolkien\nTitle: The Hobbit\nChapter: 16" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Burn, burn tree and fern!\n\nShrivel and scorch! A fizzling torch\n\nTo light the night for our delight,\n\nYa hey!\n\nBake and toast \"em, fry and roast'em!\n\ntill beards blaze, and eyes glaze;\n\ntill hair smells and skins crack,\n\nfat melts, and bones black\n\nin cinders lie\n\nbeneath the sky!\n\nSo dwarves shall die,\n\nand light the night for our delight,\n\nYa hey!\n\nYa-harri-hey!\n\nYa hoy!\n\nAnd with that Ya hoy! the flames were under Gandalf's tree. Ina moment it spread to the others. The bark caught fire, the lower branches cracked.\n\nThen Gandalf climbed to the top of his tree. The sudden splendour flashed from his wand like lightning, as he got ready to spring down from on high right among the spears of the goblins. That would have been the end of him, though he would probably have killed many of them as he came hurtling down like a thunderbolt. But he never leaped.\n\nJust at that moment the Lord of the Eagles swept down from above, seized him in his talons, and was gone.\n\nThere was a howl of anger and surprise from the goblins. Loud cried the Lord of the Eagles, to whom Gandalf had now spoken. Back swept the great birds that were with him, and down they came like huge black shadows. The wolves yammered and gnashed their teeth; the goblins yelled and stamped with rage, and flung their heavy spears in the air in vain. Over them swooped the eagles; the dark rush of their beating wings smote them to the floor or drove them faraway; their talons tore at goblin faces. Other birds flew to the tree-tops and seized the dwarves, who were scrambling up now as far as they ever dared to go." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Poor little Bilbo was very nearly left behind again! He just managed to catch hold of Dori's legs, as Dori was borne off last of all; and up they went together above the tumult and the burning, Bilbo swinging in the air with his arms nearly breaking.\n\nNow far below the goblins and the wolves were scattering far and wide in the woods. A few eagles were still circling and sweeping above the battleground. The flames about the trees sprang suddenly up above the highest branches. They went up in crackling fire. There was a sudden flurry of sparks and smoke. Bilbo had escaped only just in time!\n\nSoon the light of the burning was faint below, a red twinkle on the black floor; and they were high up in the sky, rising all the time in strong sweeping circles. Bilbo never forgot that flight, clinging onto Dori's ankles. He moaned'my arms, my arms!\"; but Dori groaned'my poor legs, my poor legs!\"\n\nAt the best of times heights made Bilbo giddy. He used to turn queer if he looked over the edge of quite a little cliff; and he had never liked ladders, let alone trees (never having had to escape from wolves before). So you can imagine how his head swam now, when he looked down between his dangling toes and saw the dark lands opening wide underneath him, touched here and therewith the light of the moon on a hill-side rock or a stream in the plains.\n\nThe pale peaks of the mountains were coming nearer, moonlit spikes of rock sticking out of black shadows. Summer or not, it seemed very cold. He shut his eyes and wondered if he could hold on any longer. Then he imagined what would happen if he did not. He felt sick." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The flight ended only just in time for him, just before his arms gave way. He loosed Dori's ankles with a gasp and fell onto the rough platform of an eagle's eyrie. There he lay without speaking, and his thoughts were a mixture of surprise at being saved from the fire, and fear lest he falloff that narrow place into the deep shadows on either side. He was feeling very queer indeed in his head by this time after the dreadful adventures of the last three days with next to nothing to eat, and he found himself saying aloud: \"Now I know what apiece of bacon feels like when it is suddenly picked out of the pan on a fork and put back on the shelf!\"\n\n\"No you don't!\" he heard Dori answering, \"because the bacon knows that it will get back in the pan sooner or later; and it is to be hoped we shan't. Also eagles aren't forks!\"\n\n\"Ono! Not a bit like storks-forks, I mean,\" said Bilbo sitting up and looking anxiously at the eagle who was perched close by. He wondered what other nonsense he had been saying, and if the eagle would think it rude. You ought not to be rude to an eagle, when you are only the size of a hobbit, and are up in his eyrie at night!\n\nThe eagle only sharpened his beak on a stone and trimmed his feathers and took no notice.\n\nSoon another eagle flew up. \"The Lord of the Eagles bids you to bring your prisoners to the Great Shelf,\" he cried and was off again. The other seized Dori in his claws and flew away with him into the night leaving Bilbo all alone. He had just strength to wonder what the messenger had meant by \"prisoners,\" and to begin to think of being torn up for supper like a rabbit, when his own turn came." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The eagle came back, seized him in his talons by the back of his coat, and swooped off. This time he flew only a short way. Very soon Bilbo was laid down, trembling with fear, on a wide shelf of rock on the mountain-side. There was no path down onto it save by flying; and no path down off it except by jumping over a precipice. There he found all the others sitting with their backs to the mountain wall. The Lord of the Eagles also was there and was speaking to Gandalf.\n\nIt seemed that Bilbo was not going to be eaten after all. The wizard and the eagle-lord appeared to know one another slightly, and even to be on friendly terms. As a matter of fact Gandalf, who had often been in the mountains, had once rendered a service to the eagles and healed their lord from an arrow-wound. So you see \"prisoners\" had meant \"prisoners rescued from the goblins\" only, and not captives of the eagles. As Bilbo listened to the talk of Gandalf he realized that at last they were going to escape really and truly from the dreadful mountains. He was discussing plans with the Great Eagle for carrying the dwarves and himself and Bilbo faraway and setting them down well on their journey across the plains below.\n\nThe Misty Mountains Looking West from the Eyrie towards Goblin Gate\n\nThe Lord of the Eagles would not take them anywhere near where men lived. \"They would shoot at us with their great bows of yew,\" he said, \"for they would think we were after their sheep. And at other times they would be right. No! we are glad to cheat the goblins of their sport, and glad to repay our thanks to you, but we will not risk ourselves for dwarves in the southward plains.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Very well,\" said Gandalf. \"Take us where and as far as you will! We are already deeply obliged to you. But in the meantime we are famished with hunger.\"\n\n\"I am nearly dead of it,\" said Bilbo in a weak little voice that nobody heard.\n\n\"That can perhaps be mended,\" said the Lord of the Eagles.\n\nLater on you might have seen a bright fire on the shelf of rock and the figures of the dwarves round it cooking and making a fine roasting smell. The eagles had brought up dry boughs for fuel, and they had brought rabbits, hares, and a small sheep. The dwarves managed all the preparations. Bilbo was too weak to help, and anyway he was not much good at skinning rabbits or cutting up meat, being used to having it delivered by the butcher all ready to cook. Gandalf, too, was lying down after doing his part insetting the fire going, since Oin and Gloin had lost their tinder-boxes. (Dwarves have never taken to matches even yet.)\n\nSo ended the adventures of the Misty Mountains. Soon Bilbo's stomach was feeling full and comfortable again, and he felt he could sleep contentedly, though really he would have liked a loaf and butter better than bits of meat toasted on sticks. He slept curled upon the hard rock more soundly than ever he had done on his feather-bed in his own little hole at home. But all night he dreamed of his own house and wandered in his sleep into all his different rooms looking for something that he could not find nor remember what it looked like." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The next morning Bilbo woke up with the early sun in his eyes. He jumped up to look at the time and to go and put his kettle on-and found he was not home at all. So he sat down and wished in vain fora wash and a brush. He did not get either, nor tea nor toast nor bacon for his breakfast, only cold mutton and rabbit. And after that he had to get ready fora fresh start.\n\nThis time he was allowed to climb onto an eagle's back and cling between his wings. The air rushed over him and he shut his eyes. The dwarves were crying farewells and promising to repay the Lord of the Eagles if ever they could, as off rose fifteen great birds from the mountain's side. The sun was still close to the eastern edge of things. The morning was cool, and mists were in the valleys and hollows and twined here and thereabout the peaks and pinnacles of the hills. Bilbo opened an eye to peep and saw that the birds were already high up and the world was faraway, and the mountains were falling back behind them into the distance. He shut his eyes again and held on tighter.\n\n\"Don't pinch!\" said his eagle. \"You need not be frightened like a rabbit, even if you look rather like one. It is a fair morning with little wind. What is finer than flying?\"\n\nBilbo would have liked to say: \"A warm bath and late breakfast on the lawn afterwards;\" but he thought it better to say nothing at all, and to let go his clutch just a tiny bit.\n\nAfter a good while the eagles must have seen the point they were making for, even from their great height, for they began to go down circling round in great spirals. They did this fora long while, and at last the hobbit opened his eyes again. The earth was much nearer, and below them were trees that looked like oaks and elms, and wide grasslands, and a river running through it all. But cropping out of the ground, right in the path of the stream which looped itself about it, was a great rock, almost a hill of stone, like a last outpost of the distant mountains, or a huge piece cast miles into the plain by some giant among giants." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Quickly now to the top of this rock the eagles swooped one by one and set down their passengers.\n\n\"Farewell!\" they cried, \"wherever you fare, till your eyries receive you at the journey's end!\" That is the polite thing to say among eagles.\n\n\"May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moonwalks,\" answered Gandalf, who knew the correct reply.\n\nAnd so they parted. And though the Lord of the Eagles became in after days the King of All Birds and wore a golden crown, and his fifteen chieftains golden collars (made of the gold that the dwarves gave them), Bilbo never saw them again-except high and far off in the battle of Five Armies. But as that comes in at the end of this tale we will say no more about it just now.\n\nThere was a flat space on the top of the hill of stone and a well worn path with many steps leading down it to the river, across which a ford of huge flat stones led to the grass-land beyond the stream. There was a little cave (a wholesome one with a pebbly floor) at the foot of the steps and near the end of the stony ford. Here the party gathered and discussed what was to be done.\n\n\"I always meant to see you all safe (if possible) over the mountains,\" said the wizard, \"and now by good management and good luck I have done it. Indeed we are now a good deal further east than I ever meant to come with you, for after all this is not my adventure. I may look in on it again before it is allover, but in the meanwhile I have some other pressing business to attend to.\"\n\nThe dwarves groaned and looked most distressed, and Bilbo wept. They had begun to think Gandalf was going to come all the way and would always be thereto help them out of difficulties. \"I am not going to disappear this very instant,\" said he. \"I can give you a day or two more. Probably I can help you out of your present plight, and I need a little help myself. We have no food, and no baggage, and no ponies to ride; and you don't know where you are. Now I can tell you that. You are still some miles north of the path which we should have been following, if we had not left the mountain pass in a hurry. Very few people live in these parts, unless they have come here since I was last down this way, which is some years ago. But there is somebody that I know of, who lives not faraway. That Somebody made the stepson the great rock-the Carrock I believe he calls it. He does not come here often, certainly not in the daytime, and it is no good waiting for him. In fact it would be very dangerous. We must go and find him; and if all goes well at our meeting, I think I shall be off and wish you like the eagles'farewell wherever you fare! '\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They begged him not to leave them. They offered him dragon-gold and silver and jewels, but he would not change his mind. \"We shall see, we shall see!\" he said, \"and I think I have earned already some of your dragon-gold-when you have got it.\"\n\nAfter that they stopped pleading. Then they took off their clothes and bathed in the river, which was shallow and clear and stony at the ford. When they had dried in the sun, which was now strong and warm, they were refreshed, if still sore and a little hungry. Soon they crossed the ford (carrying the hobbit), and then began to march through the long green grass and down the lines of the wide-armed oaks and the tall elms.\n\n\"And why is it called the Carrock?\" asked Bilbo as he went along at the wizard's side.\n\n\"He called it the Carrock, because carrock is his word for it. He calls things like that carrocks, and this one is the Carrock because it is the only one near his home and he knows it well.\"\n\n\"Who calls it? Who knows it?\"\n\n\"The Somebody I spoke of-a very great person. You must all be very polite when I introduce you. I shall introduce you slowly, two by two, I think; and you must be careful not to annoy him, or heaven knows what will happen. He can be appalling when he is angry, though he is kind enough if humoured. Still I warn you he gets angry easily.\"\n\nThe dwarves all gathered round when they heard the wizard talking like this to Bilbo. \"Is that the person you are taking us to now?\" they asked. \"Couldn't you find someone more easy-tempered? Hadn't you better explain it all a bit clearer?\"-and soon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes it certainly is! No I could not! And I was explaining very carefully,\" answered the wizard crossly. \"If you must know more, his name is Beorn. He is very strong, and he is a skin-changer.\"\n\n\"What! a furrier, a man that calls rabbits conies, when he doesn't turn their skins into squirrels?\" asked Bilbo.\n\n\"Good gracious heavens, no, no, NO, NO!\" said Gandalf. \" Don't be a fool Mr. Baggins if you can help it; and in the name of all wonder don't mention the word furrier again as long as you are within a hundred miles of his house, nor rug, cape, tippet, muff, nor any other such unfortunate word! He is a skin-changer. He changes his skin: sometimes he is a huge black bear, sometimes he is a great strong black-haired man with huge arms and a great beard. I cannot tell you much more, though that ought to be enough. Some say that he is a bear descended from the great and ancient bears of the mountains that lived there before the giants came. Others say that he is a man descended from the first men who lived before Smaug or the other dragons came into this part of the world, and before the goblins came into the hills out of the North. I cannot say, though I fancy the last is the true tale. He is not the sort of person to ask questions of.\n\n\"At any rate he is under no enchantment but his own. He lives in an oak-wood and has a great wooden house; and as a man he keeps cattle and horses which are nearly as marvellous as himself. They work for him and talk to him. He does not eat them; neither does he hunt or eat wild animals. He keeps hives and hives of great fierce bees, and lives most on cream and honey. As a bear he ranges far and wide. I once saw him sitting all alone on the top of the Carrock at night watching the moon sinking towards the Misty Mountains, and I heard him growl in the tongue of bears: \"The day will come when they will perish and I shall go back!\" That is why I believe he once came from the mountains himself.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Bilbo and the dwarves had now plenty to think about, and they asked no more questions." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They still had along way to walk before them. Up slope and down dale they plodded. It grew very hot. Sometimes they rested under the trees, and then Bilbo felt so hungry that he would have eaten acorns, if any had been ripe enough yet to have fallen to the ground.\n\nIt was the middle of the afternoon before they noticed that great patches of flowers had begun to spring up, all the same kinds growing together as if they had been planted. Especially there was clover, waving patches of cockscomb clover, and purple clover, and wide stretches of short white sweet honey-smelling clover. There was a buzzing and a whirring and a droning in the air. Bees were busy everywhere. And such bees! Bilbo had never seen anything like them.\n\n\"If one was to sting me,\" he thought, \"I should swell up as big again as I am!\"\n\nThey were bigger than hornets. The drones were bigger than your thumb, a good deal, and the bands of yellow on their deep black bodies shone like fiery gold.\n\n\"We are getting near,\" said Gandalf. \"We are on the edge of his bee-pastures.\"\n\nAfter awhile they came to a belt of tall and very ancient oaks, and beyond these to a high thorn-hedge through which you could neither see nor scramble.\n\n\"You had better wait here,\" said the wizard to the dwarves; \"and when I call or whistle begin to come after me-you will seethe way I go-but only in pairs, mind, about five minutes between each pair of you. Bombur is fattest and will do for two, he had better come alone and last. Come on Mr. Baggins! There is agate somewhere round this way.\" And with that he went off along the hedge taking the frightened hobbit with him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They soon came to a wooden gate, high and broad, beyond which they could see gardens and a cluster of low wooden buildings, some thatched and made of unshaped logs: barns, stables, sheds, and along low wooden house. Inside on the southward side of the great hedge were rows and rows of hives with bell-shaped tops made of straw. The noise of the giant bees flying to and fro and crawling in and out filled all the air.\n\nThe wizard and the hobbit pushed open the heavy creaking gate and went down a wide track towards the house. Some horses, very sleek and well-groomed, trotted up across the grass and looked at them intently with very intelligent faces; then off they galloped to the buildings.\n\n\"They have gone to tell him of the arrival of strangers,\" said Gandalf.\n\nSoon they reached a courtyard, three walls of which were formed by the wooden house and its two long wings. In the middle there was lying a great oak-trunk with many lopped branches beside it. Standing near was a huge man with a thick black beard and hair, and great bare arms and legs with knotted muscles. He was clothed in a tunic of wool down to his knees, and was leaning on a large axe. The horses were standing by him with their noses at his shoulder.\n\n\"Ugh! here they are!\" he said to the horses. \"They don't look dangerous. You can be off!\" He laughed a great rolling laugh, put down his axe and came forward.\n\n\"Who are you and what do you want?\" he asked gruffly, standing in front of them and towering tall above Gandalf. As for Bilbo he could easily have trotted through his legs without ducking his head to miss the fringe of the man's brown tunic." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am Gandalf,\" said the wizard.\n\n\"Never heard of him,\" growled the man. \"And what's this little fellow?\" he said, stooping down to frown at the hobbit with his bushy black eyebrows.\n\n\"That is Mr. Baggins, a hobbit of good family and unimpeachable reputation,\" said Gandalf. Bilbo bowed. He had no hat to takeoff, and was painfully conscious of his many missing buttons. \"I am a wizard,\" continued Gandalf. \"I have heard of you, if you have not heard of me; but perhaps you have heard of my good cousin Radagast who lives near the Southern borders of Mirkwood?\"\n\n\"Yes; not a bad fellow as wizards go, I believe. I used to see him now and again,\" said Beorn. \"Well, now I know who you are, or who you say you are. What do you want?\"\n\n\"To tell you the truth, we have lost our luggage and nearly lost our way, and are rather in need of help, or at least of advice. I may say we have had rather a bad time with goblins in the mountains.\"\n\n\"Goblins?\" said the big man less gruffly. \"Oho, so you've been having trouble with them have you? What did you go near them for?\"\n\n\"We did not mean to. They surprised us at night in a pass which we had to cross; we were coming out of the Lands over West into these countries-it is along tale.\"\n\n\"Then you had better come inside and tell me some of it, if it won't take all day,\" said the man leading the way through a dark door that opened out of the courtyard into the house.\n\nFollowing him they found themselves in a wide hall with afire-place in the middle. Though it was summer there was a wood-fire burning and the smoke was rising to the blackened rafters in search of the way out through an opening in the roof. They passed through this dim hall, lit only by the fire and the hole above it, and came through another smaller door into a sort of veranda propped on wooden posts made of singletree-trunks. It faced south and was still warm and filled with the light of the westering sun which slanted into it, and fell golden on the garden full of flowers that came right up to the steps." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Here they sat on wooden benches while Gandalf began his tale, and Bilbo swung his dangling legs and looked at the flowers in the garden, wondering what their names could be, as he had never seen half of them before.\n\n\"I was coming over the mountains with a friend or two...\" said the wizard.\n\n\"Or two? I can only see one, and a little one at that,\" said Beorn.\n\n\"Well to tell you the truth, I did not like to bother you with a lot of us, until I found out if you were busy. I will give a call, if I may.\"\n\n\"Goon, call away!\"\n\nSo Gandalf gave along shrill whistle, and presently Thorin and Dori came round the house by the garden path and stood bowing low before them.\n\n\"One or three you meant, I see!\" said Beorn. \"But these aren't hobbits, they are dwarves!\"\n\n\"Thorin Oakenshield, at your service! Dori at your service!\" said the two dwarves bowing again.\n\n\"I don't need your service, thank you,\" said Beorn, \"but I expect you need mine. I am not overfond of dwarves; but if it is true you are Thorin (son of Thrain, son of Thror, I believe), and that your companion is respectable, and that you are enemies of goblins and are not up to any mischief in my lands-what are you up to, by the way?\"\n\n\"They are on their way to visit the land of their fathers, away east beyond Mirkwood,\" put in Gandalf, \"and it is entirely an accident that we are in your lands at all. We were crossing by the High Pass that should have brought us to the road that lies to the south of your country, when we were attacked by the evil goblins-as I was about to tell you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Goon telling, then!\" said Beorn, who was never very polite.\n\n\"There was a terrible storm; the stone-giants were out hurling rocks, and at the head of the pass we took refuge in a cave, the hobbit and I and several of our companions...\"\n\n\"Do you call two several?\"\n\n\"Well, no. As a matter of fact there were more than two.\"\n\n\"Where are they? Killed, eaten, gone home?\" \"Well, no. They don't seem all to have come when I whistled. Shy, I expect. You see, we are very much afraid that we are rather a lot for you to entertain.\"\n\n\"Goon, whistle again! I am in fora party, it seems, and one or two more won't make much difference,\" growled Beorn.\n\nGandalf whistled again; but Nori and Ori were there almost before he had stopped, for, if you remember, Gandalf had told them to come in pairs every five minutes.\n\n\"Hullo!\" said Beorn. \"You came pretty quick-where were you hiding? Come on my jack-in-the-boxes!\"\n\n\"Nori at your service, Ori at...\" they began; but Beorn interrupted them.\n\n\"Thank you! When I want your help I will ask for it. Sit down, and let's get on with this tale, or it will be supper-time before it is ended.\"\n\n\"As soon as we were asleep,\" went on Gandalf, \"a crack at the back of the cave opened; goblins came out and grabbed the hobbit and the dwarves and our troop of ponies-\"\n\n\"Troop of ponies? What were you-a travelling circus? Or were you carrying lots of goods? Or do you always call six a troop?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ono! As a matter of fact there were more than six ponies, for there were more than six of us-and well, here are two more!\" Just at that moment Balin and Dwalin appeared and bowed so low that their beards swept the stone floor. The big man was frowning at first, but they did their best to be frightfully polite, and kept on nodding and bending and bowing and waving their hoods before their knees (in proper dwarf-fashion), till he stopped frowning and burst into a chuckling laugh: they looked so comical.\n\n\"Troop, was right,\" he said. \"A fine comic one. Come in my merry men, and what are your names? I don't want your service just now, only your names; and then sit down and stop wagging!\"\n\n\"Balin and Dwalin,\" they said not daring to be offended, and sat flop on the floor looking rather surprised.\n\n\"Now goon again!\" said Beorn to the wizard. \"Where was I? O yes-I was not grabbed. I killed a goblin or two with a flash-\"\n\n\"Good!\" growled Beorn. \"It is some good being a wizard, then.\"\n\n\"-and slipped inside the crack before it closed. I followed down into the main hall, which was crowded with goblins. The Great Goblin was therewith thirty or forty armed guards. I thought to myself \"even if they were not all chained together, what can a dozen do against so many?\"\"\n\n\"A dozen! That's the first time I've heard eight called a dozen. Or have you still got some more jacks that haven't yet come out of their boxes?\"\n\n\"Well, yes, there seem to be a couple more here now-Fili and Kili, I believe,\" said Gandalf, as these two now appeared and stood smiling and bowing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That's enough!\" said Beorn. \"Sit down and be quiet! Now goon, Gandalf!\"\n\nSo Gandalf went on with the tale, until he came to the fight in the dark, the discovery of the lower gate, and their horror when they found that Mr. Baggins had been mislaid. \"We counted ourselves and found that there was no hobbit. There were only fourteen of us left!\"\n\n\"Fourteen! That's the first time I've heard one from ten leave fourteen. You mean nine, or else you haven't told me yet all the names of your party.\"\n\n\"Well, of course you haven't seen Oin and Gloin yet. And, bless me! here they are. I hope you will forgive them for bothering you.\"\n\n\"O let \"em all come! Hurry up! Come along, you two, and sit down! But look here, Gandalf, even now we have only got yourself and ten dwarves and the hobbit that was lost. That only makes eleven (plus one mislaid) and not fourteen, unless wizards count differently to other people. But now please get on with the tale.\" Beorn did not show it more than he could help, but really he had begun to get very interested. You see, in the old days he had known the very part of the mountains that Gandalf was describing. He nodded and he growled, when he heard of the hobbit's reappearance and of their scramble down the stone-slide and of the wolf-ring in the woods.\n\nWhen Gandalf came to their climbing into trees with the wolves all underneath, he got up and strode about and muttered: \"I wish I had been there! I would have given them more than fireworks!\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Gandalf very glad to see that his tale was making a good impression, \"I did the best I could. There we were with the wolves going mad underneath us and the forest beginning to blaze in places, when the goblins came down from the hills and discovered us. They yelled with delight and sang songs making fun of us. Fifteen birds in five fir-trees...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Good heavens!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "growled Beorn. \"Don't pretend that goblins can't count. They can. Twelve isn't fifteen and they know it.\"\n\n\"And so do I. There were Bifur and Bofur as well. I haven't ventured to introduce them before, but here they are.\"\n\nIn came Bifur and Bofur. \"And me!\" gasped Bombur puffing up behind. He was fat, and also angry at being left till last. He refused to wait five minutes, and followed immediately after the other two.\n\n\"Well, now there are fifteen of you; and since goblins can count, I suppose that is all that there were up the trees. Now perhaps we can finish this story without anymore interruptions.\" Mr. Baggins saw then how clever Gandalf had been. The interruptions had really made Beorn more interested in the story, and the story had kept him from sending the dwarves off at once like suspicious beggars. He never invited people into his house, if he could help it. He had very few friends and they lived a good way away; and he never invited more than a couple of these to his house at a time. Now he had got fifteen strangers sitting in his porch!\n\nBy the time the wizard had finished his tale and had told of the eagles'rescue and of how they had all been brought to the Carrock, the sun had fallen behind the peaks of the Misty Mountains and the shadows were long in Beorn's garden.\n\n\"Avery good tale!\" said he. \"The best I have heard fora long while. If all beggars could tell such a good one, they might find me kinder. You maybe making it all up, of course, but you deserve a supper for the story all the same. Let's have something to eat!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes please!\" they all said together. \"Thank you very much!\"\n\nInside the hall it was now quite dark. Beorn clapped his hands, and in trotted four beautiful white ponies and several large long-bodied grey dogs. Beorn said something to them in a queer language like animal noises turned into talk. They went out again and soon came back carrying torches in their mouths, which they lit at the fire and stuck in low brackets on the pillars of the hall about the central hearth. The dogs could stand on their hind-legs when they wished, and carry things with their fore-feet. Quickly they got outboards and trestles from the sidewalls and set them up near the fire.\n\nThen baa-baa-baa! was heard, and in came some snow-white sheep led by a large coal-black ram. One bore a white cloth embroidered at the edges with figures of animals; others bore on their broad backs trays with bowls and platters and knives and wooden spoons, which the dogs took and quickly laid on the trestle-tables. These were very low, low enough even for Bilbo to sit at comfortably. Beside them a pony pushed two low-seated benches with wide rush-bottoms and little short thick legs for Gandalf and Thorin, while at the far end he put Beorn's big black chair of the same sort (in which he sat with his great legs stuck far out under the table). These were all the chairs he had in his hall, and he probably had them low like the tables for the convenience of the wonderful animals that waited on him. What did the rest sit on? They were not forgotten. The other ponies came in rolling round drum-shaped sections of logs, smoothed and polished, and low enough even for Bilbo; so soon they were all seated at Beorn's table, and the hall had not seen such a gathering for many a year." }, { "from": "human", "value": "There they had a supper, or a dinner, such as they had not had since they left the Last Homely House in the West and said good-bye to Elrond." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The light of the torches and the fire flickered about them, and on the table were two tall red beeswax candles. All the time they ate, Beorn in his deep rolling voice told tales of the wild lands on this side of the mountains, and especially of the dark and dangerous wood, that lay outstretched far to North and South a day's ride before them, barring their way to the East, the terrible forest of Mirkwood.\n\nThe dwarves listened and shook their beards, for they knew that they must soon venture into that forest and that after the mountains it was the worst of the perils they had to pass before they came to the dragon's stronghold. When dinner was over they began to telltales of their own, but Beorn seemed to be growing drowsy and paid little heed to them. They spoke most of gold and silver and jewels and the making of things by smith-craft, and Beorn did not appear to care for such things: there were nothings of gold or silver in his hall, and few save the knives were made of metal at all.\n\nThey sat long at the table with their wooden drinking-bowls filled with mead. The dark night came on outside. The fires in the middle of the hall were built with fresh logs and the torches were putout, and still they satin the light of the dancing flames with the pillars of the house standing tall behind them, and dark at the top like trees of the forest. Whether it was magic or not, it seemed to Bilbo that he heard a sound like wind in the branches stirring in the rafters, and the hoot of owls. Soon he began to nod with sleep and the voices seemed to grow faraway, until he woke with a start.\n\nThe great door had creaked and slammed. Beorn was gone. The dwarves were sitting cross-legged on the floor round the fire, and presently they began to sing. Some of the verses were like this, but there were many more, and their singing went on fora long while:" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The wind was on the withered heath,\n\nbut in the forest stirred no leaf:\n\nthere shadows lay by night and day,\n\nand dark things silent crept beneath.\n\nThe wind came down from mountains cold,\n\nand like a tide it roared and rolled;\n\nthe branches groaned, the forest moaned,\n\nand leaves were laid upon the mould.\n\nThe wind went on from West to East;\n\nall movement in the forest ceased,\n\nbut shrill and harsh across the marsh\n\nits whistling voices were released.\n\nThe grasses hissed, their tassels bent,\n\nthe reeds were rattling-on it went\n\no'er shaken pool under heavens cool\n\nwhere racing clouds were torn and rent.\n\nIt passed the lonely Mountain bare\n\nand swept above the dragon's lair:\n\nthere black and dark lay boulders stark\n\nand flying smoke was in the air.\n\nIt left the world and took its flight\n\nover the wide seas of the night.\n\nThe moon set sail upon the gale,\n\nand stars were fanned to leaping light.\n\nBilbo began to nod again. Suddenly up stood Gandalf.\n\n\"It is time for us to sleep,\" he said, \"-for us, but not I think for Beorn. In this hall we can rest sound and safe, but I warn you all not to forget what Beorn said before he left us: you must not stray outside until the sun is up, on your peril.\"\n\nBilbo found that beds had already been laid at the side of the hall, on a sort of raised platform between the pillars and the outer wall. For him there was a little mattress of straw and woollen blankets. He snuggled into them very gladly, summertime though it was. The fire burned low and he fell asleep. Yet in the night he woke: the fire had now sunk to a few embers; the dwarves and Gandalf were all asleep, to judge by their breathing; a splash of white on the floor came from the high moon, which was peering down through the smoke-hole in the roof." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was a growling sound outside, and a noise as of some great animal scuffling at the door. Bilbo wondered what it was, and whether it could be Beorn in enchanted shape, and if he would come in as a bear and kill them. He dived under the blankets and hid his head, and fell asleep again at last in spite of his fears.\n\nIt was full morning when he awoke. One of the dwarves had fallen over him in the shadows where he lay, and had rolled down with a bump from the platform onto the floor. It was Bofur, and he was grumbling about it, when Bilbo opened his eyes.\n\n\"Getup lazybones,\" he said, \"or there will be no breakfast left for you.\"\n\nUp jumped Bilbo. \"Breakfast!\" he cried. \"Where is breakfast?\"\n\n\"Mostly inside us,\" answered the other dwarves who were moving about the hall; \"but what is left is out on the veranda. We have been about looking for Beorn ever since the sun got up; but there is no sign of him anywhere, though we found breakfast laid as soon as we went out.\"\n\n\"Where is Gandalf?\" asked Bilbo, moving off to find something to eat as quick as he could.\n\n\"O! out and about somewhere,\" they told him. But he saw no sign of the wizard all that day until the evening. Just before sunset he walked into the hall, where the hobbit and the dwarves were having supper, waited on by Beorn's wonderful animals, as they had been all day. Of Beorn they had seen and heard nothing since the night before, and they were getting puzzled.\n\n\"Where is our host, and where have you been all day yourself?\" they all cried." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"One question at a time-and none till after supper! I haven't had a bite since breakfast.\"\n\nAt last Gandalf pushed away his plate and jug-he had eaten two whole loaves (with masses of butter and honey and clotted cream) and drunk at least a quart of mead-and he took out his pipe. \"I will answer the second question first,\" he said, \"-but bless me! this is a splendid place for smoke rings!\" Indeed fora longtime they could get nothing more out of him, he was so busy sending smoke rings dodging round the pillars of the hall, changing them into all sorts of different shapes and colours, and setting them at last chasing one another out of the hole in the roof. They must have looked very queer from outside, popping out into the air one after another, green, blue, red, silver-grey, yellow, white; big ones, little ones; little ones dodging through big ones and joining into figure-eights, and going off like a flock of birds into the distance.\n\n\"I have been picking out bear-tracks,\" he said at last. \"There must have been a regular bears' meeting outside here last night. I soon saw that Beorn could not have made them all: there were far too many of them, and they were of various sizes too. I should say there were little bears, large bears, ordinary bears, and gigantic big bears, all dancing outside from dark to nearly dawn. They came from almost every direction, except from the west over the river, from the Mountains. In that direction only one set of footprints led-none coming, only ones going away from here. I followed these as far as the Carrock. There they disappeared into the river, but the water was too deep and strong beyond the rock for me to cross. It is easy enough, as you remember, to get from this bank to the Carrock by the ford, but on the other side is a cliff standing up from a swirling channel. I had to walk miles before I found a place where the river was wide and shallow enough for me to wade and swim, and then miles back again to pickup the tracks again. By that time it was too late for me to follow them far. They went straight off in the direction of the pine-woods on the east side of the Misty Mountains, where we had our pleasant little party with the Wargs the night before last. And now I think I have answered your first question, too,\" ended Gandalf, and he sat along while silent." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bilbo thought he knew what the wizard meant. \"What shall we do,\" he cried, \"if he leads all the Wargs and the goblins down here? We shall all be caught and killed! I thought you said he was not a friend of theirs.\"\n\n\"So I did. And don't be silly! You had better go to bed, your wits are sleepy.\"\n\nThe hobbit felt quite crushed, and as there seemed nothing else to do he did go to bed; and while the dwarves were still singing songs he dropped asleep, still puzzling his little head about Beorn, till he dreamed a dream of hundreds of black bears dancing slow heavy dances round and round in the moonlight in the courtyard. Then he woke up when everyone else was asleep, and he heard the same scraping, scuffling, snuffling, and growling as before.\n\nNext morning they were all wakened by Beorn himself. \"So here you all are still!\" he said. He picked up the hobbit and laughed: \"Not eaten up by Wargs or goblins or wicked bears yet I see\"; and he poked Mr. Baggins' waistcoat most disrespectfully. \"Little bunny is getting nice and fat again on bread and honey,\" he chuckled. \"Come and have some more!\"\n\nSo they all went to breakfast with him. Beorn was most jolly fora change; indeed he seemed to be in a splendidly good humour and set them all laughing with his funny stories; nor did they have to wonder long where he had been or why he was so nice to them, for he told them himself. He had been over the river and right backup into the mountains-from which you can guess that he could travel quickly, in bear's shape at any rate. From the burnt wolf-glade he had soon found out that part of their story was true; but he had found more than that: he had caught a Warg and a goblin wandering in the woods. From these he had got news: the goblin patrols were still hunting with Wargs for the dwarves, and they were fiercely angry because of the death of the Great Goblin, and also because of the burning of the chief wolf's nose and the death from the wizard's fire of many of his chief servants. So much they told him when he forced them, but he guessed there was more wickedness than this afoot, and that a great raid of the whole goblin army with their wolf-allies into the lands shadowed by the mountains might soon be made to find the dwarves, or to take vengeance on the men and creatures that lived there, and who they thought must be sheltering them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It was a good story, that of yours,\" said Beorn, \"but I like it still better now I am sure it is true. You must forgive my not taking your word. If you lived near the edge of Mirkwood, you would take the word of no one that you did not know as well as your brother or better. As it is, I can only say that I have hurried home as fast as I could to see that you were safe, and to offer you any help that I can. I shall think more kindly of dwarves after this. Killed the Great Goblin, killed the Great Goblin!\" he chuckled fiercely to himself.\n\n\"What did you do with the goblin and the Warg?\" asked Bilbo suddenly.\n\n\"Come and see!\" said Beorn, and they followed round the house. A goblin's head was stuck outside the gate and a warg-skin was nailed to a tree just beyond. Beorn was a fierce enemy. But now he was their friend, and Gandalf thought it wise to tell him their whole story and the reason of their journey, so that they could get the most help he could offer.\n\nThis is what he promised to do for them. He would provide ponies for each of them, and a horse for Gandalf, for their journey to the forest, and he would lade them with food to last them for weeks with care, and packed so as to be as easy as possible to carry-nuts, flour, sealed jars of dried fruits, and red earthenware pots of honey, and twice-baked cakes that would keep good along time, and on a little of which they could march far. The making of these was one of his secrets; but honey was in them, as inmost of his foods, and they were good to eat, though they made one thirsty. Water, he said, they would not need to carry this side of the forest, for there were streams and springs along the road. \"But your way through Mirkwood is dark, dangerous and difficult,\" he said. \" Water is not easy to find there, nor food. The time is not yet come for nuts (though it maybe past and gone indeed before you get to the other side), and nuts are about all that grows there fit for food; in there the wild things are dark, queer, and savage. I will provide you with skins for carrying water, and I will give you some bows and arrows. But I doubt very much whether anything you find in Mirkwood will be wholesome to eat or to drink. There is one stream there, I know, black and strong which crosses the path. That you should neither drink of, nor bathe in; for I have heard that it carries enchantment and a great drowsiness and forgetfulness. And in the dim shadows of that place I don't think you will shoot anything, wholesome or unwholesome, without straying from the path. That you MUST NOT do, for any reason." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That is all the advice I can give you. Beyond the edge of the forest I cannot help you much; you must depend on your luck and your courage and the food I send with you. At the gate of the forest I must ask you to send back my horse and my ponies. But I wish you all speed, and my house is open to you, if ever you comeback this way again.\"\n\nThey thanked him, of course, with many bows and sweepings of their hoods and with many an'at your service, O master of the wide wooden halls!\" But their spirits sank at his grave words, and they all felt that the adventure was far more dangerous than they had thought, while all the time, even if they passed all the perils of the road, the dragon was waiting at the end.\n\nAll that morning they were busy with preparations. Soon after midday they ate with Beorn for the last time, and after the meal they mounted the steeds he was lending them, and bidding him many farewells they rode off through his gate at a good pace.\n\nAs soon as they left his high hedges at the east of his fenced lands they turned north and then bore to the north-west. By his advice they were no longer making for the main forest-road to the south of his land. Had they followed the pass, their path would have led them down a stream from the mountains that joined the great river miles south of the Carrock. At that point there was a deep ford which they might have passed, if they had still had their ponies, and beyond that a track led to the skirts of the wood and to the entrance of the old forest road. But Beorn had warned them that that way was now often used by the goblins, while the forest-road itself, he had heard, was overgrown and disused at the eastern end and led to impassable marshes where the paths had long been lost. Its eastern opening had also always been far to the south of the Lonely Mountain, and would have left them still with along and difficult northward march when they got to the other side. North of the Carrock the edge of Mirkwood drew closer to the borders of the Great River, and though here the Mountains too drew down nearer, Beorn advised them to take this way; for at a place a few days' ride due north of the Carrock was the gate of a little-known pathway through Mirkwood that led almost straight towards the Lonely Mountain." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The goblins,\" Beorn had said, \"will not dare to cross the Great River fora hundred miles north of the Carrock nor to come near my house-it is well protected at night!-but I should ride fast; for if they make their raid soon they will cross the river to the south and scour all the edge of the forest so as to cut you off, and Wargs run swifter than ponies. Still you are safer going north, even though you seem to be going back nearer to their strongholds; for that is what they will least expect, and they will have the longer ride to catch you. Be off now as quick as you may!\"\n\nThat is why they were now riding in silence, galloping wherever the ground was grassy and smooth, with the mountains dark on their left, and in the distance the line of the river with its trees drawing ever closer. The sun had only just turned west when they started, and till evening it lay golden on the land about them. It was difficult to think of pursuing goblins behind, and when they had put many miles between them and Beorn's house they began to talk and to sing again and to forget the dark forest-path that lay in front. But in the evening when the dusk came on and the peaks of the mountains glowered against the sunset they made a camp and set a guard, and most of them slept uneasily with dreams in which there came the howl of hunting wolves and the cries of goblins.\n\nStill the next morning dawned bright and fair again. There was an autumn-like mist white upon the ground and the air was chill, but soon the sun rose red in the East and the mists vanished, and while the shadows were still long they were off again. So they rode now for two more days, and all the while they saw nothing save grass and flowers and birds and scattered trees, and occasionally small herds of red deer browsing or sitting at noon in the shade. Sometimes Bilbo saw the horns of the harts sticking up out of the long grass, and at first he thought they were the dead branches of trees. That third evening they were so eager to press on, for Beorn had said that they should reach the forest-gate early on the fourth-day, that they rode still forward after dusk and into the night beneath the moon. As the light faded Bilbo thought he saw away to the right, or to the left, the shadowy form of a great bear prowling along in the same direction. But if he dared to mention it to Gandalf, the wizard only said: \"Hush! Take no notice!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Next day they started before dawn, though their night had been short. As soon as it was light they could seethe forest coming as it were to meet them, or waiting for them like a black and frowning wall before them. The land began to slope up and up, and it seemed to the hobbit that a silence began to draw in upon them. Birds began to sing less. There were no more deer; not even rabbits were to be seen. By the afternoon they had reached the eaves of Mirkwood, and were resting almost beneath the great overhanging boughs of its outer trees. Their trunks were huge and gnarled, their branches twisted, their leaves were dark and long. Ivy grew on them and trailed along the ground.\n\n\"Well, here is Mirkwood!\" said Gandalf. \"The greatest of the forests of the Northern world. I hope you like the look of it. Now you must send back these excellent ponies you have borrowed.\"\n\nThe dwarves were inclined to grumble at this, but the wizard told them they were fools. \"Beorn is not as far off as you seem to think, and you had better keep your promises anyway, for he is a bad enemy. Mr. Baggins' eyes are sharper than yours, if you have not seen each night after dark a great bear going along with us or sitting far off in the moon watching our camps. Not only to guard you and guide you, but to keep an eye on the ponies too. Beorn maybe your friend, but he loves his animals as his children. You do not guess what kindness he has shown you in letting dwarves ride them so far and so fast, nor what would happen to you, if you tried to take them into the forest.\"\n\n\"What about the horse, then?\" said Thorin. \"You don't mention sending that back.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I don't, because I am not sending it.\"\n\n\"What about your promise then?\"\n\n\"I will look after that. I am not sending the horseback, I am riding it!\"\n\nThen they knew that Gandalf was going to leave them at the very edge of Mirkwood, and they were in despair. But nothing they could say would change his mind.\n\n\"Now we had this all out before, when we landed on the Carrock,\" he said. \"It is no use arguing. I have, as I told you, some pressing business away south; and I am already late through bothering with you people. We may meet again before all is over, and then again of course we may not. That depends on your luck and on your courage and sense; and I am sending Mr. Baggins with you. I have told you before that he has more about him than you guess, and you will find that out before long. So cheer up Bilbo and don't look so glum. Cheer up Thorin and Company! This is your expedition after all. Think of the treasure at the end, and forget the forest and the dragon, at any rate until tomorrow morning!\"\n\nWhen tomorrow morning came he still said the same. So now there was nothing left to do but to fill their water-skins at a clear spring they found close to the forest-gate, and unpack the ponies. They distributed the packages as fairly as they could, though Bilbo thought his lot was wearisomely heavy, and did not at all like the idea of trudging for miles and miles with all that on his back.\n\n\"Don't you worry!\" said Thorin. \"It will get lighter all too soon. Before long I expect we shall all wish our packs heavier, when the food begins to run short.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then at last they said good-bye to their ponies and turned their heads for home. Off they trotted gaily, seeming very glad to put their tails towards the shadow of Mirkwood. As they went away Bilbo could have sworn that a thing like a bear left the shadow of the trees and shambled off quickly after them.\n\nNow Gandalf too said farewell. Bilbo sat on the ground feeling very unhappy and wishing he was beside the wizard on his tall horse. He had gone just inside the forest after breakfast (a very poor one), and it had seemed as dark in therein the morning as at night, and very secret: \"a sort of watching and waiting feeling,\" he said to himself.\n\n\"Good-bye!\" said Gandalf to Thorin. \"And goodbye to you all, good-bye! Straight through the forest is your way now. Don't stray off the track!-if you do, it is a thousand to one you will never find it again and never get out of Mirkwood; and then I don't suppose I, or anyone else, will ever see you again.\"\n\n\"Do we really have to go through?\" groaned the hobbit.\n\n\"Yes, you do!\" said the wizard, \"if you want to get to the other side. You must either go through or give up your quest. And I am not going to allow you to back out now, Mr. Baggins. I am ashamed of you for thinking of it. You have got to look after all these dwarves for me,\" he laughed.\n\n\"No! no!\" said Bilbo. \"I didn't mean that. I meant, is there noway round?\"\n\n\"There is, if you care to go two hundred miles or so out of your way north, and twice that south. But you wouldn't get a safe path even then. There are no safe paths in this part of the world. Remember you are over the Edge of the Wild now, and in for all sorts of fun wherever you go. Before you could get round Mirkwood in the North you would be right among the slopes of the Grey Mountains, and they are simply stiff with goblins, hobgoblins, and orcs of the worst description. Before you could get round it in the South, you would get into the land of the Necromancer; and even you, Bilbo, won't need me to tell you tales of that black sorcerer. I don't advise you to go anywhere near the places overlooked by his dark tower! Stick to the forest-track, keep your spirits up, hope for the best, and with a tremendous slice of luck you may come out one day and seethe Long" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Marshes lying below you, and beyond them, high in the East, the Lonely Mountain where dear old Smaug lives, though I hope he is not expecting you.\"\n\n\"Very comforting you are to be sure,\" growled Thorin. \"Good-bye! If you won't come with us, you had better get off without anymore talk!\"\n\n\"Good-bye then, and really good-bye!\" said Gandalf, and he turned his horse and rode down into the West. But he could not resist the temptation to have the last word. Before he had passed quite out of hearing he turned and put his hands to his mouth and called to them. They heard his voice come faintly: \"Good-bye! Be good, take care of yourselves-and DON'T LEAVE THE PATH!\"\n\nThen he galloped away and was soon lost to sight. \"O good-bye and go away!\" grunted the dwarves, all the more angry because they were really filled with dismay at losing him. Now began the most dangerous part of all the journey. They each shouldered the heavy pack and the water-skin which was their share, and turned from the light that lay on the lands outside and plunged into the forest." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They walked in single file. The entrance to the path was like a sort of arch leading into a gloomy tunnel made by two great trees that leant together, too old and strangled with ivy and hung with lichen to bear more than a few blackened leaves. The path itself was narrow and wound in and out among the trunks. Soon the light at the gate was like a little bright hole far behind, and the quiet was so deep that their feet seemed to thump along while all the trees leaned over them and listened.\n\nAs their eyes became used to the dimness they could see a little way to either side in a sort of darkened green glimmer. Occasionally a slender beam of sun that had the luck to slip in through some opening in the leaves far above, and still more luck in not being caught in the tangled boughs and matted twigs beneath, stabbed down thin and bright before them. But this was seldom, and it soon ceased altogether.\n\nThere were black squirrels in the wood. As Bilbo's sharp inquisitive eyes got used to seeing things he could catch glimpses of them whisking off the path and scuttling behind tree-trunks. There were queer noises too, grunts, scufflings, and hurryings in the undergrowth, and among the leaves that lay piled endlessly thick in places on the forest-floor; but what made the noises he could not see. The nastiest things they saw were the cobwebs: dark dense cobwebs with threads extraordinarily thick, often stretched from tree to tree, or tangled in the lower branches on either side of them. There were none stretched across the path, but whether because some magic kept it clear, or for what other reason they could not guess.\n\nIt was not long before they grew to hate the forest as heartily as they had hated the tunnels of the goblins, and it seemed to offer even less hope of any ending. But they had to goon and on, long after they were sick fora sight of the sun and of the sky, and longed for the feel of wind on their faces. There was no movement of air down under the forest-roof, and it was everlastingly still and dark and stuffy. Even the dwarves felt it, who were used to tunnelling, and lived at times for long whiles without the light of the sun; but the hobbit, who liked holes to make a house in but not to spend summer days in, felt that he was being slowly suffocated." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The nights were the worst." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It then became pitch-dark-not what you call pitch-dark, but really pitch: so black that you really could see nothing. Bilbo tried flapping his hand in front of his nose, but he could not see it at all. Well, perhaps it is not true to say that they could see nothing: they could see eyes. They slept all closely huddled together, and took it in turns to watch; and when it was Bilbo's turn he would see gleams in the darkness round them, and sometimes pairs of yellow or red or green eyes would stare at him from a little distance, and then slowly fade and disappear and slowly shine out again in another place. And sometimes they would gleam down from the branches just above him; and that was most terrifying. But the eyes that he liked the least were horrible pale bulbous sort of eyes. \"Insect eyes,\" he thought, \"not animal eyes, only they are much too big.\"\n\nAlthough it was not yet very cold, they tried lighting watch-fires at night, but they soon gave that up. It seemed to bring hundreds and hundreds of eyes all round them, though the creatures, whatever they were, were careful never to let their bodies show in the little flicker of the flames. Worse still it brought thousands of dark-grey and black moths, some nearly as big as your hand, flapping and whirring round their ears. They could not stand that, nor the huge bats, black as atop-hat, either; so they gave up fires and sat at night and dozed in the enormous uncanny darkness.\n\nAll this went on for what seemed to the hobbit ages upon ages; and he was always hungry, for they were extremely careful with their provisions. Even so, as days followed days, and still the forest seemed just the same, they began to get anxious. The food would not last forever: it was in fact already beginning to get low. They tried shooting at the squirrels, and they wasted many arrows before they managed to bring one down on the path. But when they roasted it, it proved horrible to taste, and they shot no more squirrels." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They were thirsty too, for they had none too much water, and in all the time they had seen neither spring nor stream. This was their state when one day they found their path blocked by a running water. It flowed fast and strong but not very wide right across the way, and it was black, or looked it in the gloom. It was well that Beorn had warned them against it, or they would have drunk from it, whatever its colour, and filled some of their emptied skins at its bank. As it was they only thought of how to cross it without wetting themselves in its water. There had been abridge of wood across, but it had rotted and fallen leaving only the broken posts near the bank.\n\nBilbo kneeling on the brink and peering forward cried: \"There is a boat against the far bank! Now why couldn't it have been this side!\"\n\n\"How faraway do you think it is?\" asked Thorin, for by now they knew Bilbo had the sharpest eyes among them.\n\n\"Not at all far. I shouldn't think above twelve yards.\"\n\n\"Twelve yards! I should have thought it was thirty at least, but my eyes don't see as well as they used a hundred years ago. Still twelve yards is as good as a mile. We can't jump it, and we daren't try to wade or swim.\"\n\n\"Can any of you throw a rope?\"\n\n\"What's the good of that? The boat is sure to be tied up, even if we could hook it, which I doubt.\"\n\n\"I don't believe it is tied,\" said Bilbo, \"though of course I can't be sure in this light; but it looks tome as if it was just drawn upon the bank, which is low just there where the path goes down into the water.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Dori is the strongest, but Fili is the youngest and still has the best sight,\" said Thorin. \"Come here Fili, and see if you can seethe boat Mr. Baggins is talking about.\"\n\nFili thought he could; so when he had stared along while to get an idea of the direction, the others brought him a rope. They had several with them, and on the end of the longest they fastened one of the large iron hooks they had used for catching their packs to the straps about their shoulders. Fili took this in his hand, balanced it fora moment, and then flung it across the stream.\n\nSplash it fell in the water! \"Not far enough!\" said Bilbo who was peering forward. \"A couple of feet and you would have dropped it onto the boat. Try again. I don't suppose the magic is strong enough to hurt you, if you just touch a bit of wet rope.\"\n\nFili picked up the hook when he had drawn it back, rather doubtfully all the same. This time he threw it with great strength.\n\n\"Steady!\" said Bilbo, \"you have thrown it right into the wood on the other side now. Draw it back gently.\" Fili hauled the rope back slowly, and after awhile Bilbo said: \"Carefully! It is lying on the boat; let's hope the hook will catch.\"\n\nIt did. The rope went taut, and Fili pulled in vain. Kili came to his help, and then Oin and Gloin. They tugged and tugged, and suddenly they all fell over on their backs. Bilbo was on the lookout, however, caught the rope, and with apiece of stick fended off the little black boat as it came rushing across the stream. \"Help!\" he shouted, and Balin was just in time to seize the boat before it floated off down the current." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Advance the storyline as the writer's tale partner.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, quest\nAuthor: J.R.R. Tolkien\nTitle: The Hobbit\nChapter: 18" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Dori is the strongest, but Fili is the youngest and still has the best sight,\" said Thorin. \"Come here Fili, and see if you can seethe boat Mr. Baggins is talking about.\"\n\nFili thought he could; so when he had stared along while to get an idea of the direction, the others brought him a rope. They had several with them, and on the end of the longest they fastened one of the large iron hooks they had used for catching their packs to the straps about their shoulders. Fili took this in his hand, balanced it fora moment, and then flung it across the stream.\n\nSplash it fell in the water! \"Not far enough!\" said Bilbo who was peering forward. \"A couple of feet and you would have dropped it onto the boat. Try again. I don't suppose the magic is strong enough to hurt you, if you just touch a bit of wet rope.\"\n\nFili picked up the hook when he had drawn it back, rather doubtfully all the same. This time he threw it with great strength.\n\n\"Steady!\" said Bilbo, \"you have thrown it right into the wood on the other side now. Draw it back gently.\" Fili hauled the rope back slowly, and after awhile Bilbo said: \"Carefully! It is lying on the boat; let's hope the hook will catch.\"\n\nIt did. The rope went taut, and Fili pulled in vain. Kili came to his help, and then Oin and Gloin. They tugged and tugged, and suddenly they all fell over on their backs. Bilbo was on the lookout, however, caught the rope, and with apiece of stick fended off the little black boat as it came rushing across the stream. \"Help!\" he shouted, and Balin was just in time to seize the boat before it floated off down the current." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It was tied after all,\" said he, looking at the snapped painter that was still dangling from it. \"That was a good pull, my lads; and a good job that our rope was the stronger.\"\n\n\"Who'll cross first?\" asked Bilbo.\n\n\"I shall,\" said Thorin, \"and you will come with me, and Fili and Balin. That's as many as the boat will hold at a time. After that Kili and Oin and Gloin and Dori; next Ori and Nori, Bifur and Bofur; and last Dwalin and Bombur.\"\n\n\"I'm always last and I don't like it,\" said Bombur. \"It's somebody else's turn today.\"\n\n\"You should not be so fat. As you are, you must be with the last and lightest boatload. Don't start grumbling against orders, or something bad will happen to you.\"\n\n\"There aren't any oars. How are you going to push the boat back to the far bank?\" asked the hobbit.\n\n\"Give me another length of rope and another hook,\" said Fili, and when they had got it ready, he cast it into the darkness ahead and as high as he could throw it. Since it did not fall down again, they saw that it must have stuck in the branches. \"Get in now,\" said Fili, \"and one of you haul on the rope that is stuck in a tree on the other side. One of the others must keep hold of the hook we used at first, and when we are safe on the other side he can hook it on, and you can draw the boat back.\"\n\nIn this way they were all soon on the far bank safe across the enchanted stream. Dwalin had just scrambled outwith the coiled rope on his arm, and Bombur (still grumbling) was getting ready to follow, when something bad did happen. There was a flying sound of hooves on the path ahead. Out of the gloom came suddenly the shape of a flying deer. It charged into the dwarves and bowled them over, then gathered itself fora leap. High it sprang and cleared the water with a mighty jump. But it did not reach the other side in safety. Thorin was the only one who had kept his feet and his wits. As soon as they had landed he had bent his bow and fitted an arrow in case any hidden guardian of the boat appeared. Now he sent a swift and sure shot into the leaping beast. As it reached the further bank it stumbled. The shadows swallowed it up, but they heard the sound of hooves quickly falter and then go still." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Before they could shout in praise of the shot, however, a dreadful wail from Bilbo put all thoughts of venison out of their minds. \"Bombur has fallen in! Bombur is drowning!\" he cried. It was only too true. Bombur had only one foot on the land when the hart bore down on him, and sprang over him. He had stumbled, thrusting the boat away from the bank, and then toppled back into the dark water, his hands slipping off the slimy roots at the edge, while the boat span slowly off and disappeared.\n\nThey could still see his hood above the water when they ran to the bank. Quickly, they flung a rope with a hook towards him. His hand caught it, and they pulled him to the shore. He was drenched from hair to boots, of course, but that was not the worst. When they laid him on the bank he was already fast asleep, with one hand clutching the rope so tight that they could not get it from his grasp; and fast asleep he remained in spite of all they could do.\n\nThey were still standing over him, cursing their ill luck, and Bombur's clumsiness, and lamenting the loss of the boat which made it impossible for them to go back and look for the hart, when they became aware of the dim blowing of horns in the wood and the sound as of dogs baying far off. Then they all fell silent; and as they sat it seemed they could hear the noise of a great hunt going by to the north of the path, though they saw no sign of it.\n\nThere they sat fora long while and did not dare to make a move. Bombur slept on with a smile on his fat face, as if he no longer cared for all the troubles that vexed them. Suddenly on the path ahead appeared some white deer, a hind and fawns as snowy white as the hart had been dark. They glimmered in the shadows. Before Thorin could cry out three of the dwarves had leaped to their feet and loosed off arrows from their bows. None seemed to find their mark. The deer turned and vanished in the trees as silently as they had come, and in vain the dwarves shot their arrows after them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Stop! stop!\" shouted Thorin; but it was too late, the excited dwarves had wasted their last arrows, and now the bows that Beorn had given them were useless.\n\nThey were a gloomy party that night, and the gloom gathered still deeper on them in the following days. They had crossed the enchanted stream; but beyond it the path seemed to straggle on just as before, and in the forest they could see no change. Yet if they had known more about it and considered the meaning of the hunt and the white deer that had appeared upon their path, they would have known that they were at last drawing towards the eastern edge, and would soon have come, if they could have kept up their courage and their hope, to thinner trees and places where the sunlight came again.\n\nBut they did not know this, and they were burdened with the heavy body of Bombur, which they had to carry along with them as best they could, taking the wearisome task in turns of four each while the others shared their packs. If these had not become all too light in the last few days, they would never have managed it; but a slumbering and smiling Bombur was a poor exchange for packs filled with food however heavy. Ina few days a time came when there was practically nothing left to eat or to drink. Nothing wholesome could they see growing in the wood, only funguses and herbs with pale leaves and unpleasant smell.\n\nAbout four days from the enchanted stream they came to apart where most of the trees were beeches. They were at first inclined to be cheered by the change, for here there was no undergrowth and the shadow was not so deep. There was a greenish light about them, and in places they could see some distance to either side of the path. Yet the light only showed them endless lines of straight grey trunks like the pillars of some huge twilight hall. There was a breath of air and a noise of wind, but it had a sad sound. A few leaves came rustling down to remind them that outside autumn was coming on. Their feet ruffled among the dead leaves of countless other autumns that drifted over the banks of the path from the deep red carpets of the forest." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Still Bombur slept and they grew very weary. At times they heard disquieting laughter. Sometimes there was singing in the distance too. The laughter was the laughter of fair voices not of goblins, and the singing was beautiful, but it sounded eerie and strange, and they were not comforted, rather they hurried on from those parts with what strength they had left.\n\nTwo days later they found their path going downwards, and before long they were in a valley filled almost entirely with a mighty growth of oaks.\n\n\"Is there no end to this accursed forest?\" said Thorin. \"Somebody must climb a tree and see if he can get his head above the roof and have a look round. The only way is to choose the tallest tree that overhangs the path.\"\n\nOf course'somebody\" meant Bilbo. They chose him, because to be of any use the climber must get his head above the topmost leaves, and so he must be light enough for the highest and slenderest branches to bear him. Poor Mr. Baggins had never had much practice in climbing trees, but they hoisted him up into the lowest branches of an enormous oak that grew right out into the path, and up he had to go as best he could. He pushed his way through the tangled twigs with many a slap in the eye; he was greened and grimed from the old bark of the greater boughs; more than once he slipped and caught himself just in time; and at last, after a dreadful struggle in a difficult place where there seemed to be no convenient branches at all, he got near the top. All the time he was wondering whether there were spiders in the tree, and how he was going to get down again (except by falling).\n\nIn the end he poked his head above the roof of leaves, and then he found spiders all right. But they were only small ones of ordinary size, and they were after the butterflies. Bilbo's eyes were nearly blinded by the light. He could hear the dwarves shouting up at him from far below, but he could not answer, only hold on and blink. The sun was shining brilliantly, and it was along while before he could bear it. When he could, he saw all round him a sea of dark green, ruffled here and thereby the breeze; and there were everywhere hundreds of butterflies. I expect they were a kind of'purple emperor\", a butterfly that loves the tops of oak-woods, but these were not purple at all, they were a dark dark velvety black without any markings to be seen." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He looked at the'black emperors\" fora longtime, and enjoyed the feel of the breeze in his hair and on his face; but at length the cries of the dwarves, who were now simply stamping with impatience down below, reminded him of his real business. It was no good. Gaze as much as he might, he could see no end to the trees and the leaves in any direction. His heart, that had been lightened by the sight of the sun and the feel of the wind, sank back into his toes: there was no food to go back to down below.\n\nActually, as I have told you, they were not far off the edge of the forest; and if Bilbo had had the sense to see it, the tree that he had climbed, though it was tall in itself, was standing near the bottom of a wide valley, so that from its top the trees seemed to swell up all round like the edges of a great bowl, and he could not expect to see how far the forest lasted. Still he did not see this, and he climbed down full of despair. He got to the bottom again at last, scratched, hot, and miserable, and he could not see anything in the gloom below when he got there. His report soon made the others as miserable as he was.\n\n\"The forest goes on forever and ever and ever in all directions! Whatever shall we do? And what is the use of sending a hobbit!\" they cried, as if it was his fault. They did not care tuppence about the butterflies, and were only made more angry when he told them of the beautiful breeze, which they were too heavy to climb up and feel.\n\nThat night they ate their very last scraps and crumbs of food; and next morning when they woke the first thing they noticed was that they were still gnawingly hungry, and the next thing was that it was raining and that here and there the drip of it was dropping heavily on the forest floor. That only reminded them that they were also parchingly thirsty, without doing anything to relieve them: you cannot quench a terrible thirst by standing under giant oaks and waiting fora chance drip to fall on your tongue. The only scrap of comfort there was came unexpectedly from Bombur." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He woke up suddenly and sat up scratching his head. He could not make out where he was at all, nor why he felt so hungry; for he had forgotten everything that had happened since they started their journey that May morning long ago. The last thing that he remembered was the party at the hobbit's house, and they had great difficulty in making him believe their tale of all the many adventures they had had since.\n\nWhen he heard that there was nothing to eat, he sat down and wept, for he felt very weak and wobbly in the legs. \"Why ever did I wake up!\" he cried. \"I was having such beautiful dreams. I dreamed I was walking in a forest rather like this one, only lit with torches on the trees and lamps swinging from the branches and fires burning on the ground; and there was a great feast going on, going on forever. A woodland king was therewith a crown of leaves, and there was a merry singing, and I could not count or describe the things there were to eat and drink.\"\n\n\"You need not try,\" said Thorin. \"In fact if you can't talk about something else, you had better be silent. We are quite annoyed enough with you as it is. If you hadn't waked up, we should have left you to your idiotic dreams in the forest; you are no joke to carry even after weeks of short commons.\"\n\nThere was nothing now to be done but to tighten the belts round their empty stomachs, and hoist their empty sacks and packs, and trudge along the track without any great hope of ever getting to the end before they lay down and died of starvation. This they did all that day, going very slowly and wearily; while Bombur kept on wailing that his legs would not carry him and that he wanted to lie down and sleep." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"No you don't!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "they said. \"Let your legs take their share, we have carried you far enough.\"\n\nAll the same he suddenly refused to go a step further and flung himself on the ground. \"Goon, if you must,\" he said. \"I'm just going to lie here and sleep and dream of food, if I can't get it any other way. I hope I never wake up again.\"\n\nAt that very moment Balin, who was a little way ahead, called out: \"What was that? I thought I saw a twinkle of light in the forest.\"\n\nThey all looked, and a longish way off, it seemed, they saw a red twinkle in the dark; then another and another sprang out beside it. Even Bombur got up, and they hurried along then, not caring if it was trolls or goblins. The light was in front of them and to the left of the path, and when at last they had drawn level with it, it seemed plain that torches and fires were burning under the trees, but a good way off their track.\n\n\"It looks as if my dreams were coming true,\" gasped Bombur puffing up behind. He wanted to rush straight off into the wood after the lights. But the others remembered only too well the warnings of the wizard and of Beorn.\n\n\"A feast would be no good, if we never got back alive from it,\" said Thorin.\n\n\"But without a feast we shan't remain alive much longer anyway,\" said Bombur, and Bilbo heartily agreed with him. They argued about it backwards and forwards fora long while, until they agreed at length to send out a couple of spies, to creep near the lights and find out more about them. But then they could not agree on who was to be sent: no one seemed anxious to run the chance of being lost and never finding his friends again. In the end, in spite of warnings, hunger decided them, because Bombur kept on describing all the good things that were being eaten, according to his dream, in the woodland feast; so they all left the path and plunged into the forest together." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After a good deal of creeping and crawling they peered round the trunks and looked into a clearing where some trees had been felled and the ground levelled. There were many people there, elvish-looking folk, all dressed in green and brown and sitting on sawn rings of the felled trees in a great circle. There was afire in their midst and there were torches fastened to some of the trees roundabout; but most splendid sight of all: they were eating and drinking and laughing merrily.\n\nThe smell of the roast meats was so enchanting that, without waiting to consult one another, everyone of them got up and scrambled forwards into the ring with the one idea of begging for some food. No sooner had the first stepped into the clearing than all the lights went out as if by magic. Somebody kicked the fire and it went up in rockets of glittering sparks and vanished. They were lost in a completely lightless dark and they could not even find one another, not fora longtime at any rate. After blundering frantically in the gloom, falling over logs, bumping crash into trees, and shouting and calling till they must have waked everything in the forest for miles, at last they managed to gather themselves in a bundle and count themselves by touch. By that time they had, of course, quite forgotten in what direction the path lay, and they were all hopelessly lost, at least till morning.\n\nThere was nothing for it but to settle down for the night where they were; they did not even dare to search on the ground for scraps of food for fear of becoming separated again. But they had not been lying long, and Bilbo was only just getting drowsy, when Dori, whose turn it was to watch first, said in aloud whisper:\n\n\"The lights are coming out again over there, and there are more than ever of them.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Up they all jumped. There, sure enough, not faraway were scores of twinkling lights, and they heard the voices and the laughter quite plainly. They crept slowly towards them, in a single line, each touching the back of the one in front. When they got near Thorin said: \"No rushing forward this time! No one is to stir from hiding till I say. I shall send Mr. Baggins alone first to talk to them. They won't be frightened of him-(\"What about me of them? \"thought Bilbo)-and anyway I hope they won't do anything nasty to him.\"\n\nWhen they got to the edge of the circle of lights they pushed Bilbo suddenly from behind. Before he had time to slip on his ring, he stumbled forward into the full blaze of the fire and torches. It was no good. Out went all the lights again and complete darkness fell.\n\nIf it had been difficult collecting themselves before, it was far worse this time. And they simply could not find the hobbit. Every time they counted themselves it only made thirteen. They shouted and called: \"Bilbo Baggins! Hobbit! You dratted hobbit! Hi! hobbit, confusticate you, where are you?\" and other things of that sort, but there was no answer.\n\nThey were just giving up hope, when Dori stumbled across him by sheer luck. In the dark he fell over what he thought was a log, and he found it was the hobbit curled up fast asleep. It took a deal of shaking to wake him, and when he was awake he was not pleased at all.\n\n\"I was having such a lovely dream,\" he grumbled, \"all about having a most gorgeous dinner.\"\n\n\"Good heavens! he has gone like Bombur,\" they said. \"Don't tell us about dreams. Dream-dinners aren't any good, and we can't share them.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"They are the best I am likely to get in this beastly place,\" he muttered, as he lay down beside the dwarves and tried to go back to sleep and find his dream again. But that was not the last of the lights in the forest. Later when the night must have been getting old, Kili who was watching then, came and roused them all again, saying:\n\n\"There's a regular blaze of light begun not faraway-hundreds of torches and many fires must have been lit suddenly and by magic. And hark to the singing and the harps!\"\n\nAfter lying and listening fora while, they found they could not resist the desire to go nearer and try once more to get help. Up they got again; and this time the result was disastrous. The feast that they now saw was greater and more magnificent than before; and at the head of along line of feasters sat a woodland king with a crown of leaves upon his golden hair, very much as Bombur had described the figure in his dream. The elvish folk were passing bowls from hand to hand and across the fires, and some were harping and many were singing. Their gleaming hair was twined with flowers; green and white gems glinted on their collars and their belts; and their faces and their songs were filled with mirth. Loud and clear and fair were those songs, and out stepped Thorin into their midst.\n\nDead silence fell in the middle of a word. Out went all light. The fires leaped up in black smokes. Ashes and cinders were in the eyes of the dwarves, and the wood was filled again with their clamour and their cries.\n\nBilbo found himself running round and round (as he thought) and calling and calling: \"Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Gloin, Fili, Kili, Bombur, Bifur, Bofur, Dwalin, Balin, Thorin Oakenshield,\" while people he could not see or feel were doing the same all round him (with an occasional'Bilbo!\" thrown in). But the cries of the others got steadily further and fainter, and though after awhile it seemed to him they changed to yells and cries for help in the far distance, all noise at last died right away, and he was left alone incomplete silence and darkness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was one of his most miserable moments. But he soon made up his mind that it was no good trying to do anything till day came with some little light, and quite useless to go blundering about tiring himself outwith no hope of any breakfast to revive him. So he sat himself down with his back to a tree, and not for the last time fell to thinking of his far-distant hobbit-hole with its beautiful pantries. He was deep in thoughts of bacon and eggs and toast and butter when he felt something touch him. Something like a strong sticky string was against his left hand, and when he tried to move he found that his legs were already wrapped in the same stuff, so that when he got up he fell over.\n\nThen the great spider, who had been busy tying him up while he dozed, came from behind him and came at him. He could only seethe thing's eyes, but he could feel its hairy legs as it struggled to wind its abominable threads round and round him. It was lucky that he had come to his senses in time. Soon he would not have been able to move at all. As it was, he had a desperate fight before he got free. He beat the creature off with his hands-it was trying to poison him to keep him quiet, as small spiders do to flies-until he remembered his sword and drew it out. Then the spider jumped back, and he had time to cut his legs loose. After that it was his turn to attack. The spider evidently was not used to things that carried such stings at their sides, or it would have hurried away quicker. Bilbo came at it before it could disappear and stuck it with his sword right in the eyes. Then it went mad and leaped and danced and flung out its legs in horrible jerks, until he killed it with another stroke; and then he fell down and remembered nothing more fora long while." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was the usual dim grey light of the forest-day about him when he came to his senses. The spider lay dead beside him, and his sword-blade was stained black. Somehow the killing of the giant spider, all alone by himself in the dark without the help of the wizard or the dwarves or of anyone else, made a great difference to Mr. Baggins. He felt a different person, and much fiercer and bolder in spite of an empty stomach, as he wiped his sword on the grass and put it back into its sheath.\n\n\"I will give you a name,\" he said to it, \"and I shall call you Sting.\"\n\nAfter that he set out to explore. The forest was grim and silent, but obviously he had first of all to look for his friends, who were not likely to be very far off, unless they had been made prisoners by the elves (or worse things). Bilbo felt that it was unsafe to shout, and he stood along while wondering in what direction the path lay, and in what direction he should go first to look for the dwarves.\n\n\"O! why did we not remember Beorn's advice, and Gandalf's!\" he lamented. \"What a mess we are in now! We! I only wish it was we: it is horrible being all alone.\"\n\nIn the end he made as good a guess as he could at the direction from which the cries for help had come in the night-and by luck (he was born with a good share of it) he guessed more or less right, as you will see. Having made up his mind he crept along as cleverly as he could. Hobbits are clever at quietness, especially in woods, as I have already told you; also Bilbo had slipped on his ring before he started. That is why the spiders neither saw nor heard him coming." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He had picked his way stealthily for some distance, when he noticed a place of dense black shadow ahead of him, black even for that forest, like a patch of midnight that had never been cleared away." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ashe drew nearer, he saw that it was made by spider-webs one behind and over and tangled with another. Suddenly he saw, too, that there were spiders huge and horrible sitting in the branches above him, and ring or no ring he trembled with fear lest they should discover him. Standing behind a tree he watched a group of them for sometime, and then in the silence and stillness of the wood he realised that these loathsome creatures were speaking one to another. Their voices were a sort of thin creaking and hissing, but he could make out many of the words that they said. They were talking about the dwarves!\n\n\"It was a sharp struggle, but worth it,\" said one. \"What nasty thick skins they have to be sure, but I'll wager there is good juice inside.\"\n\n\"Aye, they'll make fine eating, when they've hung a bit,\" said another.\n\n\"Don't hang'em too long,\" said a third. \"They're not as fat as they might be. Been feeding none too well of late, I should guess.\"\n\n\"Kill \"em, I say,\" hissed a fourth; \"kill'em now and hang 'em dead fora while.\"\n\n\"They're dead now, I'll warrant,\" said the first. \"That they are not. I saw one a-struggling just now. Just coming round again, I should say, after a bee-autiful sleep. I'll show you.\"\n\nWith that one of the fat spiders ran along a rope till it came to a dozen bundles hanging in a row from a high branch. Bilbo was horrified, now that he noticed them for the first time dangling in the shadows, to see a dwarvish foot sticking out of the bottoms of some of the bundles, or here and there the tip of a nose, or a bit of beard or of a hood." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "To the fattest of these bundles the spider went-\"It is poor old Bombur, I'll bet,\" thought Bilbo-and nipped hard at the nose that stuck out. There was a muffled yelp inside, and a toe shot up and kicked the spider straight and hard. There was life in Bombur still. There was a noise like the kicking of a flabby football, and the enraged spider fell off the branch, only catching itself with its own thread just in time.\n\nThe others laughed. \"You were quite right,\" they said, \"the meat's alive and kicking!\"\n\n\"I'll soon put an end to that,\" hissed the angry spider climbing back onto the branch.\n\nBilbo saw that the moment had come when he must do something. He could not getup at the brutes and he had nothing to shoot with; but looking about he saw that in this place there were many stones lying in what appeared to be a now dry little watercourse. Bilbo was a pretty fair shot with a stone, and it did not take him long to find a nice smooth egg-shaped one that fitted his hand cosily. As a boy he used to practise throwing stones at things, until rabbits and squirrels, and even birds, got out of his way as quick as lightning if they saw him stoop; and even grownup he had still spent a deal of his time at quoits, dart-throwing, shooting at the wand, bowls, ninepins and other quiet games of the aiming and throwing sort-indeed he could do lots of things, besides blowing smoke-rings, asking riddles and cooking, that I haven't had time to tell you about. There is no time now. While he was picking up stones, the spider had reached Bombur, and soon he would have been dead. At that moment Bilbo threw. The stone struck the spider plunk on the head, and it dropped senseless off the tree, flop to the ground, with all its legs curled up." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The next stone went whizzing through a big web, snapping its cords, and taking off the spider sitting in the middle of it, whack, dead. After that there was a deal of commotion in the spider-colony, and they forgot the dwarves fora bit, I can tell you. They could not see Bilbo, but they could make a good guess at the direction from which the stones were coming. As quick as lightning they came running and swinging towards the hobbit, flinging out their long threads in all directions, till the air seemed full of waving snares.\n\nBilbo, however, soon slipped away to a different place. The idea came to him to lead the furious spiders further and further away from the dwarves, if he could; to make them curious, excited and angry all at once. When about fifty had gone off to the place where he had stood before, he threw some more stones at these, and at others that had stopped behind; then dancing among the trees he began to sing a song to infuriate them and bring them all after him, and also to let the dwarves hear his voice.\n\nThis is what he sang:\n\nOld fat spider spinning in a tree!\n\nOld fat spider can't see me!\n\nAttercop! Attercop!\n\nWon't you stop,\n\nStop your spinning and look for me?\n\nOld Tomnoddy, all big body,\n\nOld Tomnoddy can't spy me!\n\nAttercop! Attercop!\n\nDown you drop!\n\nYou'll never catch me up your tree!\n\nNot very good perhaps, but then you must remember that he had to make it up himself, on the spur of a very awkward moment. It did what he wanted anyway. Ashe sang he threw some more stones and stamped. Practically all the spiders in the place came after him: some dropped to the ground, others raced along the branches, swung from tree to tree, or cast new ropes across the dark spaces. They made for his noise far quicker than he had expected. They were frightfully angry. Quite apart from the stones no spider has ever liked being called Attercop, and Tomnoddy of course is insulting to anybody." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Off Bilbo scuttled to afresh place, but several of the spiders had run now to different points in the glade where they lived, and were busy spinning webs across all the spaces between the tree-stems. Very soon the hobbit would be caught in a thick fence of them all round him-that at least was the spiders' idea. Standing now in the middle of the hunting and spinning insects Bilbo plucked up his courage and began anew song:\n\nLazy Lob and crazy Cob\n\nare weaving webs to wind me.\n\nI am far more sweet than other meat,\n\nbut still they cannot find me!\n\nHere am I, naughty little fly;\n\nyou are fat and lazy.\n\nYou cannot trap me, though you try,\n\nin your cobwebs crazy.\n\nWith that he turned and found that the last space between two tall trees had been closed with a web-but luckily not a proper web, only great strands of double-thick spider-rope run hastily backwards and forwards from trunk to trunk. Out came his little sword. He slashed the threads to pieces and went off singing.\n\nThe spiders saw the sword, though I don't suppose they knew what it was, and at once the whole lot of them came hurrying after the hobbit along the ground and the branches, hairy legs waving, nippers and spinners snapping, eyes popping, full of froth and rage. They followed him into the forest until Bilbo had gone as far as he dared. Then quieter than a mouse he stole back.\n\nHe had precious little time, he knew, before the spiders were disgusted and came back to their trees where the dwarves were hung. In the meanwhile he had to rescue them. The worst part of the job was getting upon to the long branch where the bundles were dangling. I don't suppose he would have managed it, if a spider had not luckily left a rope hanging down; with its help, though it stuck to his hand and hurt him, he scrambled up-only to meet an old slow wicked fat-bodied spider who had remained behind to guard the prisoners, and had been busy pinching them to see which was the juiciest to eat. It had thought of starting the feast while the others were away, but Mr. Baggins was in a hurry, and before the spider knew what was happening it felt his sting and rolled off the branch dead." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Bilbo's next job was to loose a dwarf." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What was he to do? If he cut the string which hung him up, the wretched dwarf would tumble thump to the ground a good way below. Wriggling along the branch (which made all the poor dwarves dance and dangle like ripe fruit) he reached the first bundle.\n\n\"Fili or Kili,\" he thought by the tip of a blue hood sticking out at the top. \"Most likely Fili,\" he thought by the tip of along nose poking out of the winding threads. He managed by leaning over to cut most of the strong sticky threads that bound him round, and then, sure enough, with a kick and a struggle most of Fili emerged. I am afraid Bilbo actually laughed at the sight of him jerking his stiff arms and legs as he danced on the spider-string under his armpits, just like one of those funny toys bobbing on a wire.\n\nSomehow or other Fili was got onto the branch, and then he did his best to help the hobbit, although he was feeling very sick and ill from spider-poison, and from hanging most of the night and the next day wound round and round with only his nose to breathe through. It took him ages to get the beastly stuff out of his eyes and eyebrows, and as for his beard, he had to cut most of it off. Well, between them they started to haul up first one dwarf and then another and slash them free. None of them were better off than Fili, and some of them were worse. Some had hardly been able to breathe at all (long noses are sometimes useful you see) and some had been more poisoned.\n\nIn this way they rescued Kili, Bifur, Bofur, Dori and Nori. Poor old Bombur was so exhausted-he was the fattest and had been constantly pinched and poked-that he just rolled off the branch and fell plop onto the ground, fortunately onto leaves, and lay there. But there were still five dwarves hanging at the end of the branch when the spiders began to comeback, more full of rage than ever." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bilbo immediately went to the end of the branch nearest the tree-trunk and kept back those that crawled up. He had taken off his ring when he rescued Fili and forgotten to put it on again, so now they all began to splutter and hiss:\n\n\"Now we see you, you nasty little creature! We will eat you and leave your bones and skin hanging on a tree. Ugh! he's got a sting has he? Well, we'll get him all the same, and then we'll hang him head downwards fora day or two.\"\n\nWhile this was going on, the other dwarves were working at the rest of the captives, and cutting at the threads with their knives. Soon all would be free, though it was not clear what would happen after that. The spiders had caught them pretty easily the night before, but that had been unawares and in the dark. This time there looked like being a horrible battle.\n\nSuddenly Bilbo noticed that some of the spiders had gathered round old Bombur on the floor, and had tied him up again and were dragging him away. He gave a shout and slashed at the spiders in front of him. They quickly gave way, and he scrambled and fell down the tree right into the middle of those on the ground. His little sword was something new in the way of stings for them. How it darted to and fro! It shone with delight as he stabbed at them. Half a dozen were killed before the rest drew off and left Bombur to Bilbo.\n\n\"Comedown! Comedown!\" he shouted to the dwarves on the branch. \"Don't stay up there and be netted!\" For he saw spiders swarming up all the neighbouring trees, and crawling along the boughs above the heads of the dwarves." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Down the dwarves scrambled or jumped or dropped, eleven all in a heap, most of them very shaky and little use on their legs. There they were at last, twelve of them counting poor old Bombur, who was being propped upon either side by his cousin Bifur, and his brother Bofur; and Bilbo was dancing about and waving his Sting; and hundreds of angry spiders were goggling at them all round and about and above. It looked pretty hopeless.\n\nThen the battle began. Some of the dwarves had knives, and some had sticks, and all of them could get at stones; and Bilbo had his elvish dagger. Again and again the spiders were beaten off, and many of them were killed. But it could not goon for long. Bilbo was nearly tired out; only four of the dwarves were able to stand firmly, and soon they would all be overpowered like weary flies. Already the spiders were beginning to weave their webs all round them again from tree to tree.\n\nIn the end Bilbo could think of no plan except to let the dwarves into the secret of his ring. He was rather sorry about it, but it could not be helped.\n\n\"I am going to disappear,\" he said. \"I shall draw the spiders off, if I can; and you must keep together and make in the opposite direction. To the left there, that is more or less the way towards the place where we last saw the elf-fires.\"\n\nIt was difficult to get them to understand, what with their dizzy heads, and the shouts, and the whacking of sticks and the throwing of stones; but at last Bilbo felt he could delay no longer-the spiders were drawing their circle ever closer. He suddenly slipped on his ring, and to the great astonishment of the dwarves he vanished." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Soon there came the sound of'Lazy Lob\" and'Attercop\" from among the trees away on the right. That upset the spiders greatly. They stopped advancing, and some went off in the direction of the voice. \"Attercop\" made them so angry that they lost their wits. Then Balin, who had grasped Bilbo's plan better than the rest, led an attack. The dwarves huddled together in a knot, and sending a shower of stones they drove at the spiders on the left, and burst through the ring. Away behind them now the shouting and singing suddenly stopped.\n\nHoping desperately that Bilbo had not been caught the dwarves went on. Not fast enough, though. They were sick and weary, and they could not go much better than a hobble and a wobble, though many of the spiders were close behind. Every now and then they had to turn and fight the creatures that were overtaking them; and already some spiders were in the trees above them and throwing down their long clinging threads.\n\nThings were looking pretty bad again, when suddenly Bilbo reappeared, and charged into the astonished spiders unexpectedly from the side.\n\n\"Goon! Goon!\" he shouted. \"I will do the stinging!\"\n\nAnd he did. He darted backwards and forwards, slashing at spider-threads, hacking at their legs, and stabbing at their fat bodies if they came too near. The spiders swelled with rage, and spluttered and frothed, and hissed out horrible curses; but they had become mortally afraid of Sting, and dared not come very near, now that it had comeback. So curse as they would, their prey moved slowly but steadily away. It was a most terrible business, and seemed to take hours. But at last, just when Bilbo felt that he could not lift his hand fora single stroke more, the spiders suddenly gave it up, and followed them no more, but went back disappointed to their dark colony." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The dwarves then noticed that they had come to the edge of a ring where elf-fires had been. Whether it was one of those they had seen the night before, they could not tell. But it seemed that some good magic lingered in such spots, which the spiders did not like. At any rate here the light was greener, and the boughs less thick and threatening, and they had a chance to rest and draw breath.\n\nThere they lay for sometime, puffing and panting. But very soon they began to ask questions. They had to have the whole vanishing business carefully explained, and the finding of the ring interested them so much that fora while they forgot their own troubles. Balin in particular insisted on having the Gollum story, riddles and all, told allover again, with the ring in its proper place. But after a time the light began to fail, and then other questions were asked. Where were they, and where was their path, and where was there any food, and what were they going to do next? These questions they asked over and over again, and it was from little Bilbo that they seemed to expect to get the answers. From which you can see that they had changed their opinion of Mr. Baggins very much, and had begun to have a great respect for him (as Gandalf had said they would). Indeed they really expected him to think of some wonderful plan for helping them, and were not merely grumbling. They knew only too well that they would soon all have been dead, if it had not been for the hobbit; and they thanked him many times. Some of them even got up and bowed right to the ground before him, though they fell over with the effort, and could not get on their legs again for sometime. Knowing the truth about the vanishing did not lessen their opinion of Bilbo at all; for they saw that he had some wits, as well as luck and a magic ring-and all three are very useful possessions. In fact they praised him so much that Bilbo began to feel there really was something of a bold adventurer about himself after all, though he would have felt a lot bolder still, if there had been anything to eat." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But there was nothing, nothing at all; and none of them were fit to go and look for anything, or to search for the lost path. The lost path! No other idea would come into Bilbo's tired head. He just sat staring in front of him at the endless trees; and after awhile they all fell silent again. All except Balin. Long after the others had stopped talking and shut their eyes, he kept on muttering and chuckling to himself.\n\n\"Gollum! Well I'm blest! So that's how he sneaked past me, is it? Now I know! Just crept quietly along did you, Mr. Baggins? Buttons allover the doorstep! Good old Bilbo-Bilbo-Bilbo-bo-bo-bo-\" And then he fell asleep, and there was complete silence fora long while.\n\nAll of a sudden Dwalin opened an eye, and looked round at them. \"Where is Thorin?\" he asked.\n\nIt was a terrible shock. Of course there were only thirteen of them, twelve dwarves and the hobbit. Where indeed was Thorin? They wondered what evil fate had befallen him, magic or dark monsters; and shuddered as they lay lost in the forest. There they dropped off one by one into uncomfortable sleep full of horrible dreams, as evening wore to black night; and there we must leave them for the present, too sick and weary to set guards or to take turns at watching.\n\nThorin had been caught much faster than they had. You remember Bilbo falling like a log into sleep, as he stepped into a circle of light? The next time it had been Thorin who stepped forward, and as the lights went out he fell like a stone enchanted. All the noise of the dwarves lost in the night, their cries as the spiders caught them and bound them, and all the sounds of the battle next day, had passed over him unheard. Then the Wood-elves had come to him, and bound him, and carried him away." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The feasting people were Wood-elves, of course. These are not wicked folk. If they have a fault it is distrust of strangers. Though their magic was strong, even in those days they were wary. They differed from the High Elves of the West, and were more dangerous and less wise. For most of them (together with their scattered relations in the hills and mountains) were descended from the ancient tribes that never went to Faerie in the West. There the Light-elves and the Deep-elves and the Sea-elves went and lived forages, and grew fairer and wiser and more learned, and invented their magic and their cunning craft in the making of beautiful and marvellous things, before some came back into the Wide World. In the Wide World the Wood-elves lingered in the twilight of our Sun and Moon, but loved best the stars; and they wandered in the great forests that grew tall in lands that are now lost. They dwelt most often by the edges of the woods, from which they could escape at times to hunt, or to ride and run over the open lands by moonlight or starlight; and after the coming of Men they took evermore and more to the gloaming and the dusk. Still elves they were and remain, and that is Good People.\n\nIna great cave some miles within the edge of Mirkwood on its eastern side there lived at this time their greatest king. Before his huge doors of stone a river ran out of the heights of the forest and flowed on and out into the marshes at the feet of the high wooded lands. This great cave, from which countless smaller ones opened out on every side, wound far underground and had many passages and wide halls; but it was lighter and more wholesome than any goblin-dwelling, and neither so deep nor so dangerous. In fact the subjects of the king mostly lived and hunted in the open woods, and had houses or huts on the ground and in the branches. The beeches were their favourite trees. The king's cave was his palace, and the strong place of his treasure, and the fortress of his people against their enemies." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was also the dungeon of his prisoners. Soto the cave they dragged Thorin-not too gently, for they did not love dwarves, and thought he was an enemy. In ancient days they had had wars with some of the dwarves, whom they accused of stealing their treasure. It is only fair to say that the dwarves gave a different account, and said that they only took what was their due, for the elf-king had bargained with them to shape his raw gold and silver, and had afterwards refused to give them their pay. If the elf-king had a weakness it was for treasure, especially for silver and white gems; and though his hoard was rich, he was ever eager for more, since he had not yet as great a treasure as other elf-lords of old. His people neither mined nor worked metals or jewels, nor did they bother much with trade or with tilling the earth. All this was well known to every dwarf, though Thorin's family had had nothing to do with the old quarrel I have spoken of. Consequently Thorin was angry at their treatment of him, when they took their spell off him and he came to his senses; and also he was determined that no word of gold or jewels should be dragged out of him.\n\nThe king looked sternly on Thorin, when he was brought before him, and asked him many questions. But Thorin would only say that he was starving.\n\n\"Why did you and your folk three times try to attack my people at their merrymaking?\" asked the king.\n\n\"We did not attack them,\" answered Thorin; \"we came to beg, because we were starving.\"\n\n\"Where are your friends now, and what are they doing?\"\n\n\"I don't know, but I expect starving in the forest.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What were you doing in the forest?\"\n\n\"Looking for food and drink, because we were starving.\"\n\n\"But what brought you into the forest at all?\" asked the king angrily.\n\nAt that Thorin shut his mouth and would not say another word.\n\n\"Very well!\" said the king. \"Take him away and keep him safe, until he feels inclined to tell the truth, even if he waits a hundred years.\"\n\nThen the elves put thongs on him, and shut him in one of the inmost caves with strong wooden doors, and left him. They gave him food and drink, plenty of both, if not very fine; for Wood-elves were not goblins, and were reasonably well-behaved even to their worst enemies, when they captured them. The giant spiders were the only living things that they had no mercy upon.\n\nTherein the king's dungeon poor Thorin lay; and after he had got over his thankfulness for bread and meat and water, he began to wonder what had become of his unfortunate friends. It was not very long before he discovered; but that belongs to the next chapter and the beginning of another adventure in which the hobbit again showed his usefulness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The day after the battle with the spiders Bilbo and the dwarves made one last despairing effort to find away out before they died of hunger and thirst. They got up and staggered on in the direction which eight out of the thirteen of them guessed to be the one in which the path lay; but they never found out if they were right. Such day as there ever was in the forest was fading once more into the blackness of night, when suddenly out sprang the light of many torches all round them, like hundreds of red stars. Out leaped Wood-elves with their bows and spears and called the dwarves to halt.\n\nThere was no thought of a fight. Even if the dwarves had not been in such a state that they were actually glad to be captured, their small knives, the only weapons they had, would have been of no use against the arrows of the elves that could hit a bird's eye in the dark. So they simply stopped dead and sat down and waited-all except Bilbo, who popped on his ring and slipped quickly to one side. That is why, when the elves bound the dwarves in along line, one behind the other, and counted them, they never found or counted the hobbit.\n\nNor did they hear or feel him trotting along well behind their torch-light as they led off their prisoners into the forest. Each dwarf was blindfold, but that did not make much difference, for even Bilbo with the use of his eyes could not see where they were going, and neither he nor the others knew where they had started from anyway. Bilbo had all he could do to keep up with the torches, for the elves were making the dwarves go as fast as ever they could, sick and weary as they were. The king had ordered them to make haste. Suddenly the torches stopped, and the hobbit had just time to catch them up before they began to cross the bridge. This was the bridge that led across the river to the king's doors. The water flowed dark and swift and strong beneath; and at the far end were gates before the mouth of a huge cave that ran into the side of a steep slope covered with trees. There the great beeches came right down to the bank, till their feet were in the stream." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Across the bridge the elves thrust their prisoners, but Bilbo hesitated in the rear." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He did not at all like the look of the cavern-mouth, and he only made up his mind not to desert his friends just in time to scuttle over at the heels of the last elves, before the great gates of the king closed behind them with a clang.\n\nInside the passages were lit with red torch-light, and the elf-guards sang as they marched along the twisting, crossing, and echoing paths. These were not like those of the goblin-cities; they were smaller, less deep underground, and filled with a cleaner air. Ina great hall with pillars hewn out of the living stone sat the Elvenking on a chair of carven wood. On his head was a crown of berries and red leaves, for the autumn was come again. In the spring he wore a crown of woodland flowers. In his hand he held a carven staff of oak.\n\nThe Elvenking's Gate.\n\nThe prisoners were brought before him; and though he looked grimly at them, he told his men to unbind them, for they were ragged and weary. \"Besides they need no ropes inhere,\" said he. \"There is no escape from my magic doors for those who are once brought inside.\"\n\nLong and searchingly he questioned the dwarves about their doings, and where they were going to, and where they were coming from; but he got little more news out of them than out of Thorin. They were surly and angry and did not even pretend to be polite.\n\n\"What have we done, O king?\" said Balin, who was the eldest left. \"Is it a crime to be lost in the forest, to be hungry and thirsty, to be trapped by spiders? Are the spiders your tame beasts or your pets, if killing them makes you angry?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Such a question of course made the king angrier than ever, and he answered: \"It is a crime to wander in my realm without leave." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Do you forget that you were in my kingdom, using the road that my people made? Did you not three times pursue and trouble my people in the forest and rouse the spiders with your riot and clamour? After all the disturbance you have made I have aright to know what brings you here, and if you will not tell me now, I will keep you all in prison until you have learned sense and manners!\"\n\nThen he ordered the dwarves each to be put in a separate cell and to be given food and drink, but not to be allowed to pass the doors of their little prisons, until one at least of them was willing to tell him all he wanted to know. But he did not tell them that Thorin was also a prisoner with him. It was Bilbo who found that out.\n\nPoor Mr. Baggins-it was a weary longtime that he lived in that place all alone, and always in hiding, never daring to takeoff his ring, hardly daring to sleep, even tucked away in the darkest and remotest corners he could find. For something to do he took to wandering about the Elvenking's palace. Magic shut the gates, but he could sometimes get out, if he was quick. Companies of the Wood-elves, sometimes with the king at their head, would from time to time ride out to hunt, or to other business in the woods and in the lands to the East. Then if Bilbo was very nimble, he could slip out just behind them; though it was a dangerous thing to do. More than once he was nearly caught in the doors, as they clashed together when the last elf passed; yet he did not dare to march among them because of his shadow (altogether thin and wobbly as it was in torchlight), or for fear of being bumped into and discovered. And when he did go out, which was not very often, he did no good. He did not wish to desert the dwarves, and indeed he did not know wherein the world to go without them. He could not keep up with the hunting elves all the time they were out, so he never discovered the ways out of the wood, and was left to wander miserably in the forest, terrified of losing himself, until a chance came of returning. He was hungry too outside, for he was no hunter; but inside the caves he could pickup a living of some sort by stealing food from store or table when no one was at hand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am like a burglar that can't getaway, but must goon miserably burgling the same house day after day,\" he thought. \"This is the dreariest and dullest part of all this wretched, tiresome, uncomfortable adventure! I wish I was back in my hobbit-hole by my own warm fireside with the lamp shining!\" He often wished, too, that he could get a message for help sent to the wizard, but that of course was quite impossible; and he soon realized that if anything was to be done, it would have to be done by Mr. Baggins, alone and unaided.\n\nEventually, after a week or two of this sneaking sort of life, by watching and following the guards and taking what chances he could, he managed to find out where each dwarf was kept. He found all their twelve cells indifferent parts of the palace, and after a time he got to know his way about very well. What was his surprise one day to overhear some of the guards talking and to learn that there was another dwarf in prison too, in a specially deep dark place. He guessed at once, of course, that that was Thorin; and after awhile he found that his guess was right. At last after many difficulties he managed to find the place when no one was about, and to have a word with the chief of the dwarves.\n\nThorin was too wretched to be angry any longer at his misfortunes, and was even beginning to think of telling the king all about his treasure and his quest (which shows how low-spirited he had become), when he heard Bilbo's little voice at his keyhole. He could hardly believe his ears. Soon however he made up his mind that he could not be mistaken, and he came to the door and had along whispered talk with the hobbit on the other side." }, { "from": "human", "value": "So it was that Bilbo was able to take secretly Thorin's message to each of the other imprisoned dwarves, telling them that Thorin their chief was also in prison close at hand, and that no one was to reveal their errand to the king, not yet, nor before Thorin gave the word." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For Thorin had taken heart again hearing how the hobbit had rescued his companions from the spiders, and was determined once more not to ransom himself with promises to the king of a share in the treasure, until all hope of escaping in any other way had disappeared; until in fact the remarkable Mr. Invisible Baggins (of whom he began to have a very high opinion indeed) had altogether failed to think of something clever.\n\nThe other dwarves quite agreed when they got the message. They all thought their own shares in the treasure (which they quite regarded as theirs, in spite of their plight and the still unconquered dragon) would suffer seriously if the Wood-elves claimed part of it, and they all trusted Bilbo. Just what Gandalf had said would happen, you see. Perhaps that was part of his reason forgoing off and leaving them.\n\nBilbo, however, did not feel nearly so hopeful as they did. He did not like being depended on by everyone, and he wished he had the wizard at hand. But that was no use: probably all the dark distance of Mirkwood lay between them. He sat and thought and thought, until his head nearly burst, but no bright idea would come. One invisible ring was a very fine thing, but it was not much good among fourteen. But of course, as you have guessed, he did rescue his friends in the end, and this is how it happened.\n\nOne day, nosing and wandering about, Bilbo discovered a very interesting thing: the great gates were not the only entrance to the caves. A stream flowed underpart of the lowest regions of the palace, and joined the Forest River someway further to the east, beyond the steep slope out of which the main mouth opened. Where this underground watercourse came forth from the hillside there was a water-gate. There the rocky roof came down close to the surface of the stream, and from it a portcullis could be dropped right to the bed of the river to prevent anyone coming in or out that way. But the portcullis was often open, fora good deal of traffic went out and in by the water-gate. If anyone had come in that way, he would have found himself in a dark rough tunnel leading deep into the heart of the hill; but atone point where it passed under the caves the roof had been cutaway and covered with great oaken trapdoors. These opened upwards into the king's cellars. There stood barrels, and barrels, and barrels; for the Wood-elves, and especially their king, were very fond of wine, though no vines grew in those parts. The wine, and other goods, were brought from faraway, from their kinsfolk in the South, or from the vineyards of Men in distant lands." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Hiding behind one of the largest barrels Bilbo discovered the trapdoors and their use, and lurking there, listening to the talk of the king's servants, he learned how the wine and other goods came up the rivers, or overland, to the Long Lake." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It seemed a town of Men still throve there, built out on bridges far into the water as a protection against enemies of all sorts, and especially against the dragon of the Mountain. From Lake-town the barrels were brought up the Forest River. Often they were just tied together like big rafts and poled or rowed up the stream; sometimes they were loaded onto flatboats.\n\nWhen the barrels were empty the elves cast them through the trapdoors, opened the water-gate, and out the barrels floated on the stream, bobbing along, until they were carried by the current to a place far down the river where the bank jutted out, near to the very eastern edge of Mirkwood. There they were collected and tied together and floated back to Lake-town, which stood close to the point where the Forest River flowed into the Long Lake.\n\nFor sometime Bilbo sat and thought about this water-gate, and wondered if it could be used for the escape of his friends, and at last he had the desperate beginnings of a plan.\n\nThe evening meal had been taken to the prisoners. The guards were tramping away down the passages taking the torchlight with them and leaving everything in darkness. Then Bilbo heard the king's butler bidding the chief of the guards good-night.\n\n\"Now come with me,\" he said, \"and taste the new wine that has just come in. I shall be hard at work tonight clearing the cellars of the empty wood, so let us have a drink first to help the labour.\"\n\n\"Very good,\" laughed the chief of the guards. \"I'll taste with you, and see if it is fit for the king's table. There is a feast tonight and it would not do to send up poor stuff!\"\n\nWhen he heard this Bilbo was all in aflutter, for he saw that luck was with him and he had a chance at once to try his desperate plan. He followed the two elves, until they entered a small cellar and sat down at a table on which two large flagons were set. Soon they began to drink and laugh merrily. Luck of an unusual kind was with Bilbo then. It must be potent wine to make a wood-elf drowsy; but this wine, it would seem, was the heady vintage of the great gardens of Dorwinion, not meant for his soldiers or his servants, but for the king's feasts only, and for smaller bowls not for the butler's great flagons." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Very soon the chief guard nodded his head, then he laid it on the table and fell fast asleep. The butler went on talking and laughing to himself fora while without seeming to notice, but soon his head too nodded to the table, and he fell asleep and snored beside his friend. Then in crept the hobbit. Very soon the chief guard had no keys, but Bilbo was trotting as fast as he could along the passages towards the cells. The great bunch seemed very heavy to his arms, and his heart was often in his mouth, in spite of his ring, for he could not prevent the keys from making every now and then aloud clink and clank, which put him all in a tremble.\n\nFirst he unlocked Balin's door, and locked it again carefully as soon as the dwarf was outside. Balin was most surprised, as you can imagine; but glad as he was to get out of his wearisome little stone room, he wanted to stop and ask questions, and know what Bilbo was going to do, and all about it.\n\n\"No time now!\" said the hobbit. \"You just follow me! We must all keep together and not risk getting separated. All of us must escape or none, and this is our last chance. If this is found out, goodness knows where the king will put you next, with chains on your hands and feet too, I expect. Don't argue, there's a good fellow!\"\n\nThen off he went from door to door, until his following had grown to twelve-none of them any too nimble, what with the dark, and what with their long imprisonment. Bilbo's heart thumped every time one of them bumped into another, or grunted or whispered in the dark. \"Drat this dwarvish racket!\" he said to himself. But all went well, and they met no guards. As a matter of fact there was a great autumn feast in the woods that night, and in the halls above. Nearly all the king's folk were merrymaking." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At last after much blundering they came to Thorin's dungeon, far down in a deep place and fortunately not far from the cellars.\n\n\"Upon my word!\" said Thorin, when Bilbo whispered to him to come out and join his friends, \"Gandalf spoke true, as usual! A pretty fine burglar you make, it seems, when the time comes. I am sure we are all forever at your service, whatever happens after this. But what comes next?\"\n\nBilbo saw that the time had come to explain his idea, as far as he could; but he did not feel at all sure how the dwarves would take it. His fears were quite justified, for they did not like it a bit, and started grumbling loudly in spite of their danger.\n\n\"We shall be bruised and battered to pieces, and drowned too, for certain!\" they muttered. \"We thought you had got some sensible notion, when you managed to get hold of the keys. This is a mad idea!\"\n\n\"Very well!\" said Bilbo very downcast, and also rather annoyed. \"Come along back to your nice cells, and I will lock you all in again, and you can sit there comfortably and think of a better plan-but I don't suppose I shall ever get hold of the keys again, even if I feel inclined to try.\"\n\nThat was too much for them, and they calmed down. In the end, of course, they had to do just what Bilbo suggested, because it was obviously impossible for them to try and find their way into the upper halls, or to fight their way out of gates that closed by magic; and it was no good grumbling in the passages until they were caught again. So following the hobbit, down into the lowest cellars they crept. They passed a door through which the chief guard and the butler could be seen still happily snoring with smiles upon their faces. The wine of Dorwinion brings deep and pleasant dreams. There would be a different expression on the face of the chief guard next day, even though Bilbo, before they went on, stole in and kind-heartedly put the keys back on his belt." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Help the author by continuing the tale.\nTags: fantasy, epic fantasy, quest\nAuthor: J.R.R. Tolkien\nTitle: The Hobbit\nChapter: 19" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At last after much blundering they came to Thorin's dungeon, far down in a deep place and fortunately not far from the cellars.\n\n\"Upon my word!\" said Thorin, when Bilbo whispered to him to come out and join his friends, \"Gandalf spoke true, as usual! A pretty fine burglar you make, it seems, when the time comes. I am sure we are all forever at your service, whatever happens after this. But what comes next?\"\n\nBilbo saw that the time had come to explain his idea, as far as he could; but he did not feel at all sure how the dwarves would take it. His fears were quite justified, for they did not like it a bit, and started grumbling loudly in spite of their danger.\n\n\"We shall be bruised and battered to pieces, and drowned too, for certain!\" they muttered. \"We thought you had got some sensible notion, when you managed to get hold of the keys. This is a mad idea!\"\n\n\"Very well!\" said Bilbo very downcast, and also rather annoyed. \"Come along back to your nice cells, and I will lock you all in again, and you can sit there comfortably and think of a better plan-but I don't suppose I shall ever get hold of the keys again, even if I feel inclined to try.\"\n\nThat was too much for them, and they calmed down. In the end, of course, they had to do just what Bilbo suggested, because it was obviously impossible for them to try and find their way into the upper halls, or to fight their way out of gates that closed by magic; and it was no good grumbling in the passages until they were caught again. So following the hobbit, down into the lowest cellars they crept. They passed a door through which the chief guard and the butler could be seen still happily snoring with smiles upon their faces. The wine of Dorwinion brings deep and pleasant dreams. There would be a different expression on the face of the chief guard next day, even though Bilbo, before they went on, stole in and kind-heartedly put the keys back on his belt." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That will save him some of the trouble he is in for,\" said Mr. Baggins to himself. \"He wasn't a bad fellow, and quite decent to the prisoners. It will puzzle them all too. They will think we had a very strong magic to pass through all those locked doors and disappear. Disappear! We have got to get busy very quick, if that is to happen!\"\n\nBalin was told off to watch the guard and the butler and give warning if they stirred. The rest went into the adjoining cellar with the trapdoors. There was little time to lose. Before long, as Bilbo knew, some elves were under orders to comedown and help the butler get the empty barrels through the doors into the stream. These were in fact already standing in rows in the middle of the floor waiting to be pushed off. Some of them were wine-barrels, and these were not much use, as they could not easily be opened at the end without a deal of noise, nor could they easily be secured again. But among them were several others, which had been used for bringing other stuffs, butter, apples, and all sorts of things, to the king's palace.\n\nThey soon found thirteen with room enough fora dwarf in each. In fact some were too roomy, and as they climbed in the dwarves thought anxiously of the shaking and the bumping they would get inside, though Bilbo did his best to find straw and other stuff to pack them in as cosily as could be managed in a short time. At last twelve dwarves were stowed. Thorin had given a lot of trouble, and turned and twisted in his tub and grumbled like a large dog in a small kennel; while Balin, who came last, made a great fuss about his air-holes and said he was stifling, even before his lid was on. Bilbo had done what he could to close holes in the sides of the barrels, and to fix on all the lids as safely as could be managed, and now he was left alone again, running round putting the finishing touches to the packing, and hoping against hope that his plan would come off." }, { "from": "human", "value": "It had not been done a bit too soon." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Only a minute or two after Balin's lid had been fitted on there came the sound of voices and the flicker of lights. A number of elves came laughing and talking into the cellars and singing snatches of song. They had left a merry feast in one of the halls and were bent on returning as soon as they could.\n\n\"Where's old Galion, the butler?\" said one. \"I haven't seen him at the tables tonight. He ought to be here now to show us what is to be done.\"\n\n\"I shall be angry if the old slowcoach is late,\" said another. \"I have no wish to waste time down here while the song is up!\"\n\n\"Ha, ha!\" came a cry. \"Here's the old villain with his head on a jug! He's been having a little feast all to himself and his friend the captain.\"\n\n\"Shake him! Wake him!\" shouted the others impatiently.\n\nGalion was not at all pleased at being shaken or wakened, and still less at being laughed at. \"You're all late,\" he grumbled. \"Here am I waiting and waiting down here, while you fellows drink and make merry and forget your tasks. Small wonder if I fall asleep from weariness!\"\n\n\"Small wonder,\" said they, \"when the explanation stands close at hand in a jug! Come give us a taste of your sleeping-draught before we fall to! No need to wake the turnkey yonder. He has had his share by the looks of it.\"\n\nThen they drank once round and became mighty merry all of a sudden. But they did not quite lose their wits. \"Save us, Galion!\" cried some, \"you began your feasting early and muddled your wits! You have stacked some full casks here instead of the empty ones, if there is anything in weight.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Get on with the work!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "growled the butler. \"There is nothing in the feeling of weight in an idle toss-pot's arms. These are the ones to go and no others. Do as I say!\"\n\n\"Very well, very well,\" they answered rolling the barrels to the opening. \"On your head be it, if the king's full buttertubs and his best wine is pushed into the river for the Lake-men to feast on for nothing!\"\n\nRoll-roll-roll-roll,\n\nroll-roll-rolling down the hole!\n\nHeave ho! Splash plump!\n\nDown they go, down they bump!\n\nSo they sang as first one barrel and then another rumbled to the dark opening and was pushed over into the cold water some feet below. Some were barrels really empty, some were tubs neatly packed with a dwarf each; but down they all went, one after another, with many a clash and a bump, thudding on top of ones below, smacking into the water, jostling against the walls of the tunnel, knocking into one another, and bobbing away down the current.\n\nIt was just at this moment that Bilbo suddenly discovered the weak point in his plan. Most likely you saw it sometime ago and have been laughing at him; but I don't suppose you would have done half as well yourselves in his place. Of course he was not in a barrel himself, nor was there anyone to pack him in, even if there had been a chance! It looked as if he would certainly lose his friends this time (nearly all of them had already disappeared through the dark trap-door), and get utterly left behind and have to stay lurking as a permanent burglar in the elf-caves forever. For even if he could have escaped through the upper gates at once, he had precious small chance of ever finding the dwarves again. He did not know the way by land to the place where the barrels were collected. He wondered what on earth would happen to them without him; for he had not had time to tell the dwarves all that he had learned, or what he had meant to do, once they were out of the wood." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "While all these thoughts were passing through his mind, the elves being very merry began to sing a song round the river-door. Some had already gone to haul on the ropes which pulled up the portcullis at the water-gate so as to let out the barrels as soon as they were all afloat below.\n\nDown the swift dark stream you go\n\nBack to lands you once did know!\n\nLeave the halls and caverns deep,\n\nLeave the northern mountains steep,\n\nWhere the forest wide and dim\n\nStoops in shadow grey and grim!\n\nFloat beyond the world of trees\n\nOut into the whispering breeze,\n\nPast the rushes, past the reeds,\n\nPast the marsh's waving weeds,\n\nThrough the mist that riseth white\n\nUp from mere and pool at night!\n\nFollow, follow stars that leap\n\nUp the heavens cold and steep;\n\nTurn when dawn comes overland,\n\nOver rapid, over sand,\n\nSouth away! and South away!\n\nSeek the sunlight and the day,\n\nBack to pasture, back to mead,\n\nWhere the kine and oxen feed!\n\nBack to gardens on the hills\n\nWhere the berry swells and fills\n\nUnder sunlight, under day!\n\nSouth away! and South away!\n\nDown the swift dark stream you go\n\nBack to lands you once did know!\n\nNow the very last barrel was being rolled to the doors! In despair and not knowing what else to do, poor little Bilbo caught hold of it and was pushed over the edge with it. Down into the water he fell, splash! into the cold dark water with the barrel on top of him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He came up again spluttering and clinging to the wood like a rat, but for all his efforts he could not scramble on top. Every time he tried, the barrel rolled round and ducked him under again. It was really empty, and floated light as a cork. Though his ears were full of water, he could hear the elves still singing in the cellar above. Then suddenly the trap-doors fell to with a boom and their voices faded away. He was in the dark tunnel floating in icy water, all alone-for you cannot count friends that are all packed up in barrels.\n\nVery soon a grey patch came in the darkness ahead. He heard the creak of the water-gate being hauled up, and he found that he was in the midst of a bobbing and bumping mass of casks and tubs all pressing together to pass under the arch and get out into the open stream. He had as much as he could do to prevent himself from being hustled and battered to bits; but at last the jostling crowd began to breakup and swing off, one by one, under the stony arch and away. Then he saw that it would have been no good even if he had managed to get astride his barrel, for there was no room to spare, not even fora hobbit, between its top and the suddenly stooping roof where the gate was.\n\nOut they went under the overhanging branches of the trees on either bank. Bilbo wondered what the dwarves were feeling and whether a lot of water was getting into their tubs. Some of those that bobbed along by him in the gloom seemed pretty low in the water, and he guessed that these had dwarves inside.\n\n\"I do hope I put the lids on tight enough!\" he thought, but before long he was worrying too much about himself to remember the dwarves. He managed to keep his head above the water, but he was shivering with the cold, and he wondered if he would die of it before the luck turned, and how much longer he would be able to hang on, and whether he should risk the chance of letting go and trying to swim to the bank." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The luck turned all right before long: the eddying current carried several barrels close ashore atone point and therefor awhile they stuck against some hidden root. Then Bilbo took the opportunity of scrambling up the side of his barrel while it was held steady against another. Up he crawled like a drowned rat, and lay on the top spread out to keep the balance as best he could. The breeze was cold but better than the water, and he hoped he would not suddenly roll off again when they started off once more.\n\nBefore long the barrels broke free again and turned and twisted off down the stream, and out into the main current. Then he found it quite as difficult to stick on as he had feared; but he managed it somehow, though it was miserably uncomfortable. Luckily he was very light, and the barrel was a good big one and being rather leaky had now shipped a small amount of water. All the same it was like trying to ride, without bridle or stirrups, around-bellied pony that was always thinking of rolling on the grass.\n\nIn this way at last Mr. Baggins came to a place where the trees on either hand grew thinner. He could seethe paler sky between them. The dark river opened suddenly wide, and there it was joined to the main water of the Forest River flowing down in haste from the king's great doors. There was a dim sheet of water no longer overshadowed, and on its sliding surface there were dancing and broken reflections of clouds and of stars. Then the hurrying water of the Forest River swept all the company of casks and tubs away to the north bank, in which it had eaten out a wide bay. This had a shingly shore under hanging banks and was walled at the eastern end by a little jutting cape of hard rock. On the shallow shore most of the barrels ran aground, though a few went onto bump against the stony pier." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There were people on the look-out on the banks. They quickly poled and pushed all the barrels together into the shallows, and when they had counted them they roped them together and left them till the morning. Poor dwarves! Bilbo was not badly off now. He slipped from his barrel and waded ashore, and then sneaked along to some huts that he could see near the water's edge. He no longer thought twice about picking up a supper uninvited if he got the chance, he had been obliged to do it for so long, and he knew now only too well what it was to be really hungry, not merely politely interested in the dainties of a well-filled larder. Also he had caught a glimpse of afire through the trees, and that appealed to him with his dripping and ragged clothes clinging to him cold and clammy.\n\nThere is no need to tell you much of his adventures that night, for now we are drawing near the end of the eastward journey and coming to the last and greatest adventure, so we must hurry on. Of course helped by his magic ring he got on very well at first, but he was given away in the end by his wet footsteps and the trail of drippings that he left wherever he went or sat; and also he began to snivel, and wherever he tried to hide he was found out by the terrific explosions of his suppressed sneezes. Very soon there was a fine commotion in the village by the riverside; but Bilbo escaped into the woods carrying a loaf and a leather bottle of wine and a pie that did not belong to him. The rest of the night he had to pass wet as he was and far from afire, but the bottle helped him to do that, and he actually dozed a little on some dry leaves, even though the year was getting late and the air was chilly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He woke again with a specially loud sneeze. It was already grey morning, and there was a merry racket down by the river. They were making up a raft of barrels, and the raft-elves would soon be steering it off down the stream to Lake-town. Bilbo sneezed again. He was no longer dripping but he felt cold allover. He scrambled down as fast as his stiff legs would take him and managed just in time to get onto the mass of casks without being noticed in the general bustle. Luckily there was no sun at the time to cast an awkward shadow, and fora mercy he did not sneeze again fora good while.\n\nThere was a mighty pushing of poles. The elves that were standing in the shallow water heaved and shoved. The barrels now all lashed together creaked and fretted.\n\n\"This is a heavy load!\" some grumbled. \"They float too deep-some of these are never empty. If they had come ashore in the daylight, we might have had a look inside,\" they said.\n\n\"No time now!\" cried the raftman. \"Shove off!\" And off they went at last, slowly at first, until they had passed the point of rock where other elves stood to fend them off with poles, and then quicker and quicker as they caught the mainstream and went sailing away down, down towards the Lake.\n\nThey had escaped the dungeons of the king and were through the wood, but whether alive or dead still remains to be seen." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "As the writer's helper, keep the story going.\nTags: fantasy, chronicle of narnia, talking animals\nAuthor: C.S. Lewis\nTitle: The Horse and His Boy\nChapter: 17" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sorry, Bree,\" he gasped. \"I can't walk. It burns my feet.\" \"Of course!\" panted Bree. \"Should have thought of that myself. Stay on. Can't be helped.\"\n\n\"It's all right for you,\" said Shasta to Aravis who was walking beside Hwin. \"You've got shoes on.\"\n\nAravis said nothing and looked prim. Let's hope she didn't mean to, but she did.\n\nOn again, trot and walk and trot, jingle-jingle-jingle, squeak-squeak-squeak, smell of hot horse, smell of hot self, blinding glare, headache. And nothing at all different for mile after mile. Tashbaan would never look any further away. The mountains would never look any nearer. You felt this had been going on for always-jingle-jingle-jingle, squeak-squeak-squeak, smell of hot horse, smell of hot self.\n\nOf course one tried all sorts of games with oneself to try to make the time pass: and of course they were all no good. And one tried very hard not to think of drinks-iced sherbet in a palace at Tashbaan, clear spring water tinkling with a dark earthy sound, cold, smooth milk just creamy enough and not too creamy-and the harder you tried not to think, the more you thought.\n\nAt last there was something different-amass of rock sticking up out of the sand about fifty yards long and thirty feet high. It did not cast much shadow, for the sun was now very high, but it cast a little. Into that shade they crowded. There they ate some food and drank a little water. It is not easy giving a horse a drink out of a skin bottle, but Bree and Hwin were clever with their lips. No one had anything like enough. No one spoke. The Horses were flecked with foam and their breathing was noisy. The children were pale." }, { "from": "human", "value": "After a very short rest they went on again." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Same noises, same smells, same glare, till at last their shadows began to fall on their right, and then got longer and longer till they seemed to stretch out to the Eastern end of the world. Very slowly the sun drew nearer to the Western horizon. And now at last he was down and, thank goodness, the merciless glare was gone, though the heat coming up from the sand was still as bad as ever. Four pairs of eyes were looking out eagerly for any sign of the valley that Sallowpad the Raven had spoken about. But, mile after mile, there was nothing but level sand. And now the day was quite definitely done, and most of the stars were out, and still the Horses thundered on and the children rose and sank in their saddles, miserable with thirst and weariness. Not till the moon had risen did Shasta-in the strange, barking voice of someone whose mouth is perfectly dry-shout out:\n\n\"There it is!\"\n\nThere was no mistaking it now. Ahead, and a little to their right, there was at last a slope: a slope downward and hummocks of rock on each side. The Horses were far too tired to speak but they swung round toward it and in a minute or two they were entering the gully. At first it was worse in there than it had been out in the open desert, for there was a breathless stuffiness between the rocky walls and less moonlight. The slope continued steeply downward and the rocks on either hand rose to the height of cliffs. Then they began to meet vegetation-prickly cactus-like plants and coarse grass of the kind that would prick your fingers. Soon the horse-hoofs were falling on pebbles and stones instead of sand. Round every bend of the valley-and it had many bends-they looked eagerly for water. The Horses were nearly at the end of their strength now, and Hwin, stumbling and panting, was lagging behind Bree. They were almost in despair before at last they came to a little muddiness and a tiny trickle of water through softer and better grass. And the trickle became a brook, and the brook became a stream with bushes on each side, and the stream became a river and there came (after more disappointments than I could possibly describe) a moment when Shasta, who had been in a kind of doze, suddenly realized that Bree had stopped and found himself slipping off. Before them a little cataract of water poured into abroad pool: and both the Horses were already in the pool with their heads down, drinking, drinking, drinking. \"O-o-oh,\" said Shasta and plunged in-it was about up to his knees-and stooped his head right into the cataract. It was perhaps the loveliest moment in his life." }, { "from": "human", "value": "It was about ten minutes later when all four of them (the two children wet nearly allover) came out and began to notice their surroundings." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The moon was now high enough to peep down into the valley. There was soft grass on both sides of the river, and beyond the grass, trees and bushes sloped up to the bases of the cliffs. There must have been some wonderful flowering shrubs hidden in that shadowy undergrowth for the whole glade was full of the coolest and most delicious smells. And out of the darkest recess among the trees there came a sound Shasta had never heard before-a nightingale:\n\nEveryone was much too tired to speak or eat. The Horses, without waiting to be unsaddled, lay down at once. So did Aravis and Shasta.\n\nAbout ten minutes later the careful Hwin said, \"But we mustn't go to sleep. We've got to keep ahead of that Rabadash.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Bree very slowly. \"Mustn't go sleep. Just a little rest.\"\n\nShasta knew (fora moment) that they would all go to sleep if he didn't getup and do something about it, and felt that he ought to. In fact he decided that he would getup and persuade them to goon. But presently; not yet: not just yet...\n\nVery soon the moon shone and the nightingale sang over two horses and two human children, all fast asleep.\n\nIt was Aravis who awoke first. The sun was already high in the heavens and the cool morning hours were already wasted. \"It's my fault,\" she said to herself furiously as she jumped up and began rousing the others. \"One wouldn't expect Horses to keep awake after a day's work like that, even if they can talk. And of course that Boy wouldn't; he's had no decent training. But I ought to have known better.\"\n\nThe others were dazed and stupid with the heaviness of their sleep." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Heigh-ho-broo-hoo,\" said Bree. \"Been sleeping in my saddle, eh? I'll never do that again. Most uncomfortable-\"\n\n\"Oh come on, come on,\" said Aravis. \"We've lost half the morning already. There isn't a moment to spare.\"\n\n\"A fellow's got to have a mouthful of grass,\" said Bree.\n\n\"I'm afraid we can't wait,\" said Aravis.\n\n\"What's the terrible hurry?\" said Bree. \"We've crossed the desert, haven't we?\"\n\n\"But we're not in Archenland yet,\" said Aravis. \"And we've got to get there before Rabadash.\"\n\n\"Oh, we must be miles ahead of him,\" said Bree. \"Haven't we been coming a shorter way? Didn't that Raven friend of yours say this was a shortcut, Shasta?\"\n\n\"He didn't say anything about shorter,\" answered Shasta. \"He only said better, because you got to a river this way. If the oasis is due North of Tashbaan, then I'm afraid this maybe longer.\"\n\n\"Well I can't goon without a snack,\" said Bree. \"Take my bridle off, Shasta.\"\n\n\"P-please,\" said Hwin, very shyly, \"I feel just like Bree that I can't goon. But when Horses have humans (with spurs and things) on their backs, aren't they often made to goon when they're feeling like this? and then they find they can. I m-mean-oughtn't we to be able to do more even, now that we're free. It's all for Narnia.\"\n\n\"I think, Ma'am,\" said Bree very crushingly, \"that I know a little more about campaigns and forced marches and what a horse can stand than you do.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "To this Hwin made no answer, being, like most highly bred mares, a very nervous and gentle person who was easily put down. In reality she was quite right, and if Bree had had a Tarkaan on his back at that moment to make him goon, he would have found that he was good for several hours' hard going. But one of the worst results of being a slave and being forced to do things is that when there is no one to force you anymore you find you have almost lost the power of forcing yourself.\n\nSo they had to wait while Bree had a snack and a drink, and of course Hwin and the children had a snack and a drink too. It must have been nearly eleven o'clock in the morning before they finally got going again. And even then Bree took things much more gently than yesterday. It was really Hwin, though she was the weaker and more tired of the two, who set the pace.\n\nThe valley itself, with its brown, cool river, and grass and moss and wildflowers and rhododendrons, was such a pleasant place that it made you want to ride slowly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Book One\n\nTHE MAGICIAN'S NEPHEW\n\nBook Two\n\nTHE LION, THE WITCH AND THE WARDROBE\n\nBook Three\n\nTHE HORSE AND HIS BOY\n\nBook Four\n\nPRINCE CASPIAN\n\nBook Five\n\nTHE VOYAGE OF THE DAWN TREADER\n\nBook Six\n\nTHE SILVER CHAIR\n\nBook Seven\n\nTHE LAST BATTLE" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"WAS IT ALL A DREAM?\" WONDERED Shasta. But it couldn't have been a dream for therein the grass before him he saw the deep, large print of the Lion's front right paw. It took one's breath away to think of the weight that could make a footprint like that. But there was something more remarkable than the size about it. Ashe looked at it, water had already filled the bottom of it. Soon it was full to the brim, and then overflowing, and a little stream was running downhill, past him, over the grass.\n\nShasta stooped and drank-a very long drink-and then dipped his face in and splashed his head. It was extremely cold, and clear as glass, and refreshed him very much. After that he stood up, shaking the water out of his ears and flinging the wet hair back from his forehead, and began to take stock of his surroundings.\n\nApparently it was still very early morning. The sun had only just risen, and it had risen out of the forests which he saw lowdown and faraway on his right. The country which he was looking at was absolutely new to him. It was a green valleyland dotted with trees through which he caught the gleam of a river that wound away roughly to the Northwest. On the far side of the valley there were high and even rocky hills, but they were lower than the mountains he had seen yesterday. Then he began to guess where he was. He turned and looked behind him and saw that the slope on which he was standing belonged to a range of far higher mountains.\n\n\"I see,\" said Shasta to himself. \"Those are the big mountains between Archenland and Narnia. I was on the other side of them yesterday. I must have come through the pass in the night. What luck that I hit it!-at least it wasn't luck at all really, it was Him. And now I'm in Narnia.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He turned and unsaddled his horse and took off its bridle-\"Though you area perfectly horrid horse,\" he said. It took no notice of this remark and immediately began eating grass. That horse had a very low opinion of Shasta.\n\n\"I wish I could eat grass!\" thought Shasta. \"It's no good going back to Anvard, it'll all be besieged. I'd better get lower down into the valley and see if I can get anything to eat.\"\n\nSo he went on downhill (the thick dew was cruelly cold to his bare feet) till he came into a wood. There was a kind of track running through it and he had not followed this for many minutes when he heard a thick and rather wheezy voice saying to him:\n\n\"Good morning, neighbor.\"\n\nShasta looked round eagerly to find the speaker and presently saw a small, prickly person with a dark face who had just come out from among the trees. At least, it was small fora person but very big indeed fora hedgehog, which was what it was.\n\n\"Good morning,\" said Shasta. \"But I'm not a neighbor. In fact I'm a stranger in these parts.\"\n\n\"Ah?\" said the Hedgehog inquiringly.\n\n\"I've come over the mountains-from Archenland, you know.\"\n\n\"Ah, Archenland,\" said the Hedgehog. \"That's a terrible long way. Never been there myself.\"\n\n\"And I think, perhaps,\" said Shasta, \"someone ought to be told that there's an army of savage Calormenes attacking Anvard at this very moment.\"\n\n\"You don't say so!\" answered the Hedgehog. \"Well, think of that. And they do say that Calormen is hundreds and thousands of miles away, right at the world's end, across a great sea of sand.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It's not nearly as far as you think,\" said Shasta. \"And oughtn't something to be done about this attack on Anvard? Oughtn't your High King to be told?\"\n\n\"Certain sure, something ought to be done about it,\" said the Hedgehog. \"But you see I'm just on my way to bed fora good day's sleep. Hullo, neighbor!\"\n\nThe last words were addressed to an immense biscuit-colored rabbit whose head had just popped up from somewhere beside the path. The Hedgehog immediately told the Rabbit what it had just learned from Shasta. The Rabbit agreed that this was very remarkable news and that somebody ought to tell someone about it with a view to doing something.\n\nAnd so it went on. Every few minutes they were joined by other creatures, some from the branches overhead and some from little underground houses at their feet, till the party consisted of five rabbits, a squirrel, two magpies, a goat-foot faun, and a mouse, who all talked at the same time and all agreed with the Hedgehog. For the truth was that in that golden age when the Witch and the Winter had gone and Peter the High King ruled at Cair Paravel, the smaller woodland people of Narnia were so safe and happy that they were getting a little careless.\n\nPresently, however, two more practical people arrived in the little wood. One was a Red Dwarf whose name appeared to be Duffle. The other was a stag, a beautiful lordly creature with wide liquid eyes, dappled flanks and legs so thin and graceful that they looked as if you could break them with two fingers.\n\n\"Lion alive!\" roared the Dwarf as soon as he had heard the news. \"And if that's so, why are we all standing still, chattering? Enemies at Anvard! News must be sent to Cair Paravel at once. The army must be called out. Narnia must go to the aid of King Lune.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Ah!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said the Hedgehog. \"But you won't find the High King at the Cair. He's away to the North trouncing those giants. And talking of giants, neighbors, that puts me in mind-\"\n\n\"Who'll take our message?\" interrupted the Dwarf. \"Anyone here got more speed than me?\"\n\n\"I've got speed,\" said the Stag. \"What's my message? How many Calormenes?\"\n\n\"Two hundred: under Prince Rabadash. And-\" But the Stag was already away-all four legs off the ground at once, and in a moment its white stern had disappeared among the remoter trees.\n\n\"Wonder where he's going,\" said a Rabbit. \"He won't find the High King at Cair Paravel, you know.\"\n\n\"He'll find Queen Lucy,\" said Duffle. \"And then-hullo! What's wrong with the Human? It looks pretty green. Why, I do believe it's quite faint. Perhaps it's mortal hungry. When did you last have a meal, youngster?\"\n\n\"Yesterday morning,\" said Shasta weakly.\n\n\"Come on, then, come on,\" said the Dwarf, at once throwing his thick little arms round Shasta's waist to support him. \"Why, neighbors, we ought all to be ashamed of ourselves! You come with me, lad. Breakfast! Better than talking.\"\n\nWith a great deal of bustle, muttering reproaches to itself, the Dwarf half led and half supported Shasta at a great speed further into the wood and a little downhill. It was a longer walk than Shasta wanted at that moment and his legs had begun to feel very shaky before they came out from the trees onto bare hillside. There they found a little house with a smoking chimney and an open door, and as they came to the doorway Duffle called out:" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Hey, brothers!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A visitor for breakfast.\"\n\nAnd immediately, mixed with a sizzling sound, there came to Shasta a simply delightful smell. It was one he had never smelled in his life before, but I hope you have. It was, in fact, the smell of bacon and eggs and mushrooms all frying in a pan.\n\n\"Mind your head, lad,\" said Duffle a moment too late, for Shasta had already bashed his forehead against the low lintel of the door. \"Now,\" continued the Dwarf, \"sit you down. The table's a bit low for you, but then the stool's low too. That's right. And here's porridge-and here's a jug of cream-and here's a spoon.\"\n\nBy the time Shasta had finished his porridge, the Dwarf's two brothers (whose names were Rogin and Bricklethumb) were putting the dish of bacon and eggs and mushrooms, and the coffeepot and the hot milk, and the toast, on the table.\n\nIt was all new and wonderful to Shasta for Calormene food is quite different. He didn't even know what the slices of brown stuff were, for he had never seen toast before. He didn't know what the yellow soft thing they smeared on the toast was, because in Calormen you nearly always get oil instead of butter. And the house itself was quite different from the dark, frowsty, fish-smelling hut of Arsheesh and from the pillared and carpeted halls in the palaces of Tashbaan. The roof was very low, and everything was made of wood, and there was a cuckoo-clock and a red-and-white checked tablecloth and a bowl of wildflowers and little curtains on the thick-paned windows. It was also rather troublesome having to use dwarf cups and plates and knives and forks. This meant that helpings were very small, but then there were a great many helpings, so that Shasta's plate or cup was being filled every moment, and every moment the Dwarfs themselves were saying, \"Butter, please,\" or'Another cup of coffee,\" or'I\"d like a few more mushrooms,\" or'What about frying another egg or so?\" And when at last they had all eaten as much as they possibly could the three Dwarfs drew lots for who would do the washing-up, and Rogin was the unlucky one. Then Duffle and Bricklethumb took Shasta outside to a bench which ran against the cottage wall, and they all stretched out their legs and gave a great sigh of contentment and the two Dwarfs lit their pipes. The dew was off the grass now and the sun was warm; indeed, if there hadn't been alight breeze, it would have been too hot." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Now, Stranger,\" said Duffle, \"I'll show you the lie of the land. You can see nearly all South Narnia from here, and we're rather proud of the view. Right away on your left, beyond those near hills, you can just seethe Western Mountains. And that round hill away on your right is called the Hill of the Stone Table. Just beyond-\"\n\nBut at that moment he was interrupted by a snore from Shasta who, what with his night's journey and his excellent breakfast, had gone fast asleep. The kindly Dwarfs, as soon as they noticed this, began making signs to each other not to wake him, and indeed did so much whispering and nodding and getting up and tiptoeing away that they certainly would have waked him if he had been less tired.\n\nHe slept pretty well nearly all day but woke up in time for supper. The beds in that house were all too small for him but they made him a fine bed of heather on the floor, and he never stirred or dreamed all night. Next morning they had just finished breakfast when they heard a shrill, exciting sound from outside.\n\n\"Trumpets!\" said all the Dwarfs, as they and Shasta all came running out.\n\nThe trumpets sounded again: anew noise to Shasta, not huge and solemn like the horns of Tashbaan nor gay and merry like King Lune's hunting horn, but clear and sharp and valiant. The noise was coming from the woods to the East, and soon there was a noise of horse-hoofs mixed with it. A moment later the head of the column came into sight.\n\nFirst came the Lord Peridan on a bay horse carrying the great banner of Narnia-a red lion on a green ground. Shasta knew him at once. Then came three people riding abreast, two on great chargers and one on a pony. The two on the chargers were King Edmund and a fair-haired lady with a very merry face who wore a helmet and a mail shirt and carried a bow across her shoulder and a quiver full of arrows at her side. (\"The Queen Lucy,\" whispered Duffle.) But the one on the pony was Corin. After that came the main body of the army: men on ordinary horses, men on Talking Horses (who didn't mind being ridden on proper occasions, as when Narnia went to war), centaurs, stern, hard-bitten bears, great Talking Dogs, and last of all six giants. For there are good giants in Narnia. But though he knew they were on the right side Shasta at first could hardly bear to look at them; there are somethings that take a lot of getting used to." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Just as the King and Queen reached the cottage and the Dwarfs began making low bows to them, King Edmund called out:\n\n\"Now, friends! Time fora halt and a morsel!\" and at once there was a great bustle of people dismounting and haversacks being opened and conversation beginning when Corin came running up to Shasta and seized both his hands and cried:\n\n\"What! You here! So you got through all right? I am glad. Now we shall have some sport. And isn't it luck! We only got into the harbor at Cair Paravel yesterday morning and the very first person who met us was Chervy the Stag with this news of an attack on Anvard. Don't you think-\"\n\n\"Who is your Highness's friend?\" said King Edmund who had just got off his horse.\n\n\"Don't you see, Sire?\" said Corin. \"It's my double: the boy you mistook me for at Tashbaan.\"\n\n\"Why, so he is your double,\" exclaimed Queen Lucy. \"As like as two twins. This is a marvelous thing.\"\n\n\"Please, your Majesty,\" said Shasta to King Edmund, \"I was no traitor, really I wasn't. And I couldn't help hearing your plans. But I'd never have dreamed of telling them to your enemies.\"\n\n\"I know now that you were no traitor, boy,\" said King Edmund, laying his hand on Shasta's head. \"But if you would not betaken for one, another time try not to hear what's meant for other ears. But all's well.\"\n\nAfter that there was so much bustle and talk and coming and going that Shasta fora few minutes lost sight of Corin and Edmund and Lucy. But Corin was the sort of boy whom one is sure to hear of pretty soon and it wasn't very long before Shasta heard King Edmund saying in aloud voice:" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"By the Lion's Mane, prince, this is too much!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Will your Highness never be better? You are more of a heart's-scald than our whole army together! I'd as lief have a regiment of hornets in my command as you.\"\n\nShasta wormed his way through the crowd and there saw Edmund, looking very angry indeed, Corin looking a little ashamed of himself, and a strange Dwarf sitting on the ground making faces. A couple of fauns had apparently just been helping it out of its armor.\n\n\"If I had but my cordial with me,\" Queen Lucy was saying, \"I could soon mend this. But the High King has so strictly charged me not to carry it commonly to the wars and to keep it only for great extremities!\"\n\nWhat had happened was this. As soon as Corin had spoken to Shasta, Corin's elbow had been plucked by a Dwarf in the army called Thornbut.\n\n\"What is it, Thornbut?\" Corin had said.\n\n\"Your Royal Highness,\" said Thornbut, drawing him aside, \"our march today will bring us through the pass and right to your royal father's castle. We maybe in battle before night.\"\n\n\"I know,\" said Corin. \"Isn't it splendid!\"\n\n\"Splendid or not,\" said Thornbut, \"I have the strictest orders from King Edmund to see to it that your Highness is not in the fight. You will be allowed to see it, and that's treat enough for your Highness's little years.\"\n\n\"Oh what nonsense!\" Corin burst out. \"Of course I'm going to fight. Why, the Queen Lucy's going to be with the archers.\"\n\n\"The Queen's grace will do as she pleases,\" said Thornbut. \"But you are in my charge. Either I must have your solemn and princely word that you'll keep your pony beside mine-not half a neck ahead-till I give your Highness leave to depart: or else-it is his Majesty's word-we must go with our wrists tied together like two prisoners.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'll knock you down if you try to bind me,\" said Corin.\n\n\"I'd like to see your Highness do it,\" said the Dwarf.\n\nThat was quite enough fora boy like Corin and in a second he and the Dwarf were at it hammer and tongs. It would have been an even match for, though Corin had longer arms and more height, the Dwarf was older and tougher. But it was never fought out (that's the worst of fights on a rough hillside) for by very bad luck Thornbut trod on a loose stone, came flat down on his nose, and found when he tried to getup that he had sprained his ankle: areal excruciating sprain which would keep him from walking or riding for at least a fortnight.\n\n\"See what your Highness has done,\" said King Edmund. \"Deprived us of a proved warrior on the very edge of battle.\"\n\n\"I'll take his place, Sire,\" said Corin.\n\n\"Pshaw,\" said Edmund. \"No one doubts your courage. But a boy in battle is a danger only to his own side.\"\n\nAt that moment the King was called away to attend to something else, and Corin, after apologizing handsomely to the Dwarf, rushed up to Shasta and whispered:\n\n\"Quick. There's a spare pony now, and the Dwarf's armor. Put it on before anyone notices.\"\n\n\"What for?\" said Shasta.\n\n\"Why, so that you and I can fight in the battle of course! Don't you want to?\"\n\n\"Oh-ah, yes, of course,\" said Shasta. But he hadn't been thinking of doing so at all, and began to get a most uncomfortable prickly feeling in his spine." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That's right,\" said Corin. \"Over your head. Now the sword-belt. But we must ride near the tail of the column and keep as quiet as mice. Once the battle begins everyone will be far too busy to notice us.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "THE HORSE AND HIS BOY. Copyright© 1954 by C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. Copyright renewed 1982 by C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. Interior art by Pauline Baynes; copyright© 1954 by C. S. Lewis Pte. Ltd. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text maybe reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.\n\nMobipocket Reader October 2008 ISBN 978-0-06-176534-6\n\n10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"OH-MY-FATHER-AND-OH-THE-DELIGHT-of-my-eyes,\" began the young man, muttering the words very quickly and sulkily and not at all as if the Tisroc were the delight of his eyes. \"May you live forever, but you have utterly destroyed me. If you had given me the swiftest of the galleys at sunrise when I first saw that the ship of the accursed barbarians was gone from her place I would perhaps have overtaken them. But you persuaded me to send first and see if they had not merely moved round the point into better anchorage. And now the whole day has been wasted. And they are gone-gone-out of my reach! The false jade, the-\" and here he added a great many descriptions of Queen Susan which would not look at all nice in print. For of course this young man was Prince Rabadash and of course the false jade was Susan of Narnia.\n\n\"Compose yourself, O my son,\" said the Tisroc. \"For the departure of guests makes a wound that is easily healed in the heart of a judicious host.\"\n\n\"But I want her,\" cried the Prince. \"I must have her. I shall die if I do not get her-false, proud, black-hearted daughter of a dog that she is! I cannot sleep and my food has no savor and my eyes are darkened because of her beauty. I must have the barbarian queen.\"\n\n\"How well it was said by a gifted poet,\" observed the Vizier, raising his face (in a somewhat dusty condition) from the carpet, \"that deep drafts from the fountain of reason are desirable in order to extinguish the fire of youthful love.\"\n\nThis seemed to exasperate the Prince. \"Dog,\" he shouted, directing a series of well-aimed kicks at the hindquarters of the Vizier, \"do not dare to quote the poets tome. I have had maxims and verses flung at me all day and I can endure them no more.\" I am afraid Aravis did not feel at all sorry for the Vizier." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Tisroc was apparently sunk in thought, but when, after along pause, he noticed what was happening, he said tranquilly:\n\n\"My son, by all means desist from kicking the venerable and enlightened Vizier: for as a costly jewel retains its value even if hidden in a dung-hill, so old age and discretion are to be respected even in the vile persons of our subjects. Desist therefore, and tell us what you desire and propose.\"\n\n\"I desire and propose, O my father,\" said Rabadash, \"that you immediately call out your invincible armies and invade the thrice-accursed land of Narnia and waste it with fire and sword and add it to your illimitable empire, killing their High King and all of his blood except the queen Susan. For I must have her as my wife, though she shall learn a sharp lesson first.\"\n\n\"Understand, O my son,\" said the Tisroc, \"that no words you can speak will move me to open war against Narnia.\"\n\n\"If you were not my father, O ever-living Tisroc,\" said the Prince, grinding his teeth, \"I should say that was the word of a coward.\"\n\n\"And if you were not my son, O most inflammable Rabadash,\" replied his father, \"your life would be short and your death slow when you had said it.\" (The cool, placid voice in which he spoke these words made Aravis's blood run cold.)\n\n\"But why, O my father,\" said the Prince-this time in a much more respectful voice, \"why should we think twice about punishing Narnia anymore than about hanging an idle slave or sending a worn-out horse to be made into dog's-meat? It is not the fourth size of one of your least provinces. A thousand spears could conquer it in five weeks. It is an unseemly blot on the skirts of your empire.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Most undoubtedly,\" said the Tisroc. \"These little barbarian countries that call themselves free (which is as much as to say, idle, disordered, and unprofitable) are hateful to the gods and to all persons of discernment.\"\n\n\"Then why have we suffered such a land as Narnia to remain thus long unsubdued?\"\n\n\"Know, O enlightened Prince,\" said the Grand Vizier, \"that until the year in which your exalted father began his salutary and unending reign, the land of Narnia was covered with ice and snow and was moreover ruled by a most powerful enchantress.\"\n\n\"This I know very well, O loquacious Vizier,\" answered the Prince. \"But I know also that the enchantress is dead. And the ice and snow have vanished, so that Narnia is now wholesome, fruitful, and delicious.\"\n\n\"And this change, O most learned Prince, has doubtless been brought to pass by the powerful incantations of those wicked persons who now call themselves kings and queens of Narnia.\"\n\n\"I am rather of the opinion,\" said Rabadash, \"that it has come about by the alteration of the stars and the operation of natural causes.\"\n\n\"All this,\" said the Tisroc, \"is a question for the disputations of learned men. I will never believe that so great an alteration, and the killing of the old enchantress, were effected without the aid of strong magic. And such things are to be expected in that land, which is chiefly inhabited by demons in the shape of beasts that talk like men, and monsters that are half man and half beast. It is commonly reported that the High King of Narnia (whom may the gods utterly reject) is supported by a demon of hideous aspect and irresistible maleficence who appears in the shape of a Lion. Therefore the attacking of Narnia is a dark and doubtful enterprise, and I am determined not to put my handout farther than I can draw it back.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How blessed is Calormen,\" said the Vizier, popping up his face again, \"on whose ruler the gods have been pleased to bestow prudence and circumspection! Yet as the irrefutable and sapient Tisroc has said it is very grievous to be constrained to keep our hands off such a dainty dish as Narnia. Gifted was that poet who said-\" but at this point Ahoshta noticed an impatient movement of the Prince's toe and became suddenly silent.\n\n\"It is very grievous,\" said the Tisroc in his deep, quiet voice. \"Every morning the sun is darkened in my eyes, and every night my sleep is the less refreshing, because I remember that Narnia is still free.\"\n\n\"O my father,\" said Rabadash. \"How if I show you away by which you can stretch out your arm to take Narnia and yet draw it back unharmed if the attempt prove unfortunate?\"\n\n\"If you can show me that, O Rabadash,\" said the Tisroc, \"you will be the best of sons.\"\n\n\"Hear then, O father. This very night and in this hour I will take but two hundred horse and ride across the desert. And it shall seem to all men that you know nothing of my going. On the second morning I shall beat the gates of King Lune's castle of Anvard in Archenland. They are at peace with us and unprepared and I shall take Anvard before they have bestirred themselves. Then I will ride through the pass above Anvard and down through Narnia to Cair Paravel. The High King will not be there; when I left them he was already preparing a raid against the giants on his northern border. I shall find Cair Paravel, most likely with open gates, and ride in. I shall exercise prudence and courtesy and spill as little Narnian blood as I can. And what then remains but to sit there till the Splendor Hyaline puts in, with Queen Susan onboard, catch my strayed bird as she sets foot ashore, swing her into the saddle, and then ride, ride, ride back to Anvard?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But is it not probable, O my son,\" said the Tisroc, \"that at the taking of the woman either King Edmund or you will lose his life?\"\n\n\"They will be a small company,\" said Rabadash, \"and I will order ten of my men to disarm and bind him: restraining my vehement desire for his blood so that there shall be no deadly cause of war between you and the High King.\"\n\n\"And how if the Splendor Hyaline is at Cair Paravel before you?\"\n\n\"I do not look for that with these winds, O my father.\"\n\n\"And lastly, O my resourceful son,\" said the Tisroc, \"you have made clear how all this might give you the barbarian woman, but not how it helps me to the overthrowing of Narnia.\"\n\n\"O my father, can it have escaped you that though I and my horsemen will come and go through Narnia like an arrow from a bow, yet we shall have Anvard forever? And when you hold Anvard you sit in the very gate of Narnia, and your garrison in Anvard can be increased by little and little till it is a great host.\"\n\n\"It is spoken with understanding and foresight. But how do I drawback my arm if all this miscarries?\"\n\n\"You shall say that I did it without your knowledge and against your will, and without your blessing, being constrained by the violence of my love and the impetuosity of youth.\"\n\n\"And how if the High King then demands that we send back the barbarian woman, his sister?\"\n\n\"O my father, be assured that he will not. For though the fancy of a woman has rejected this marriage, the High King Peter is a man of prudence and understanding who will in noway wish to lose the high honor and advantage of being allied to our House and seeing his nephew and grandnephew on the throne of Calormen.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"He will not see that if I live forever as is no doubt your wish,\" said the Tisroc in an even drier voice than usual.\n\n\"And also, O my father and O the delight of my eyes,\" said the Prince, after a moment of awkward silence, \"we shall write letters as if from the Queen to say that she loves me and has no desire to return to Narnia. For it is well known that women areas changeable as weathercocks. And even if they do not wholly believe the letters, they will not dare to come to Tashbaan in arms to fetch her.\"\n\n\"O enlightened Vizier,\" said the Tisroc, \"bestow your wisdom upon us concerning this strange proposal.\"\n\n\"O eternal Tisroc,\" answered Ahoshta, \"the strength of paternal affection is not unknown tome and I have often heard that sons are in the eyes of their fathers more precious than carbuncles. How then shall I dare freely to unfold to you my mind in a matter which may imperil the life of this exalted Prince?\"\n\n\"Undoubtedly you will dare,\" replied the Tisroc. \"Because you will find that the dangers of not doing so are at least equally great.\"\n\n\"To hear is to obey,\" moaned the wretched man. \"Know then, O most reasonable Tisroc, in the first place, that the danger of the Prince is not altogether so great as might appear. For the gods have withheld from the barbarians the light of discretion, as that their poetry is not, like ours, full of choice apophthegms and useful maxims, but is all of love and war. Therefore nothing will appear to them more noble and admirable than such a mad enterprise as this of-ow!\" For the Prince, at the word'mad,\" had kicked him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Desist, O my son,\" said the Tisroc." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And you, estimable Vizier, whether he desists or not, by no means allow the flow of your eloquence to be interrupted. For nothing is more suitable to persons of gravity and decorum than to endure minor inconveniences with constancy.\"\n\n\"To hear is to obey,\" said the Vizier, wriggling himself round a little so as to get his hinder parts further away from Rabadash's toe. \"Nothing, I say, will seem as pardonable, if not estimable, in their eyes as this-er-hazardous attempt, especially because it is undertaken for the love of a woman. Therefore, if the Prince by misfortune fell into their hands, they would assuredly not kill him. Nay, it may even be, that though he failed to carry off the queen, yet the sight of his great valor and of the extremity of his passion might incline her heart to him.\"\n\n\"This is a good point, old babbler,\" said Rabadash. \"Very good, however it came into your ugly head.\"\n\n\"The praise of my masters is the light of my eyes,\" said Ahoshta. \"And secondly, O Tisroc, whose reign must and shall be interminable, I think that with the aid of the gods it is very likely that Anvard will fall into the Prince's hands. And if so, we have Narnia by the throat.\"\n\nThere was along pause and the room became so silent that the two girls hardly dared to breathe. At last the Tisroc spoke.\n\n\"Go, my son,\" he said. \"And do as you have said. But expect no help nor countenance from me. I will not avenge you if you are killed and I will not deliver you if the barbarians cast you into prison. And if, either in successor failure, you shed a drop more than you need of Narnian noble blood and open war arises from it, my favor shall never fall upon you again and your next brother shall have your place in Calormen. Now go. Be swift, secret, and fortunate. May the strength of Tash the inexorable, the irresistible be in your sword and lance.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"To hear is to obey,\" cried Rabadash, and after kneeling fora moment to kiss his father's hands he rushed from the room. Greatly to the disappointment of Aravis, who was now horribly cramped, the Tisroc and the Vizier remained.\n\n\"O Vizier,\" said the Tisroc, \"is it certain that no living soul knows of this council we three have held here tonight?\"\n\n\"O my master,\" said Ahoshta, \"it is not possible that any should know. For that very reason I proposed, and you in your infallible wisdom agreed, that we should meet herein the Old Palace where no council is ever held and none of the household has any occasion to come.\"\n\n\"It is well,\" said the Tisroc. \"If any man knew, I would see to it that he died before an hour had passed. And do you also, O prudent Vizier, forget it. I sponge away from my own heart and from yours all knowledge of the Prince's plans. He is gone without my knowledge or my consent, I know not whither, because of his violence and the rash and disobedient disposition of youth. No man will be more astonished than you and Ito hear that Anvard is in his hands.\"\n\n\"To hear is to obey,\" said Ahoshta.\n\n\"That is why you will never think even in your secret heart that I am the hardest hearted of fathers who thus send my first-born son on an errand so likely to be his death; pleasing as it must be to you who do not love the Prince. For I see into the bottom of your mind.\"\n\n\"O impeccable Tisroc,\" said the Vizier. \"In comparison with you I love neither the Prince nor my own life nor bread nor water nor the light of the sun.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Your sentiments,\" said the Tisroc, \"are elevated and correct. I also love none of these things in comparison with the glory and strength of my throne. If the Prince succeeds, we have Archenland, and perhaps hereafter Narnia. If he fails-I have eighteen other sons and Rabadash, after the manner of the eldest sons of kings, was beginning to be dangerous. More than five Tisrocs in Tashbaan have died before their time because their eldest sons, enlightened princes, grew tired of waiting for their throne. He had better cool his blood abroad than boil it in inaction here. And now, O excellent Vizier, the excess of my paternal anxiety inclines me to sleep. Command the musicians to my chamber. But before you lie down, callback the pardon we wrote for the third cook. I feel within me the manifest prognostics of indigestion.\"\n\n\"To hear is to obey,\" said the Grand Vizier. He crawled backward on all fours to the door, rose, bowed, and went out. Even then the Tisroc remained seated in silence on the divan till Aravis almost began to be afraid that he had dropped asleep. But at last with a great creaking and sighing he heaved up his enormous body, signed to the slaves to precede him with the lights, and went out. The door closed behind him, the room was once more totally dark, and the two girls could breathe freely again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "WHEN SHASTA WENT THROUGH THE gate he found a slope of grass and a little heather running up before him to some trees. He had nothing to think about now and no plans to make: he had only to run, and that was quite enough. His limbs were shaking, a terrible stitch was beginning in his side, and the sweat that kept dropping into his eyes blinded them and made them smart. He was unsteady on his feet too, and more than once he nearly turned his ankle on a loose stone.\n\nThe trees were thicker now than they had yet been and in the more open spaces there was bracken. The sun had gone in without making it any cooler. It had become one of those hot, gray days when there seem to be twice as many flies as usual. Shasta's face was covered with them; he didn't even try to shake them off-he had too much else to do.\n\nSuddenly he heard a horn-not a great throbbing hornlike the horns of Tashbaan but a merry call, Ti-ro-to-to-ho! Next moment he came out into a wide glade and found himself in a crowd of people.\n\nAt least, it looked a crowd to him. In reality there were about fifteen or twenty of them, all gentlemen in green hunting-dress, with their horses; some in the saddle and some standing by their horses' heads. In the center someone was holding the stirrup fora man to mount. And the man he was holding it for was the jolliest, fat, apple-cheeked, twinkling-eyed King you could imagine.\n\nAs soon as Shasta came insight this King forgot all about mounting his horse. He spread out his arms to Shasta, his face lit up, and he cried out in a great, deep voice that seemed to come from the bottom of his chest:" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Corin! My son! And on foot, and in rags! What-\"\n\n\"No,\" panted Shasta, shaking his head. \"Not Prince Corin. I-I-know I'm like him... saw his Highness in Tashbaan... sent his greetings.\"\n\nThe King was staring at Shasta with an extraordinary expression on his face.\n\n\"Are you K-King Lune?\" gasped Shasta. And then, without waiting for an answer, \"Lord King-fly-Anvard-shut the gates-enemies upon you-Rabadash and two hundred horse.\"\n\n\"Have you assurance of this, boy?\" asked one of the other gentlemen.\n\n\"My own eyes,\" said Shasta. \"I've seen them. Raced them all the way from Tashbaan.\"\n\n\"On foot?\" said the gentleman, raising his eyebrows a little.\n\n\"Horses-with the Hermit,\" said Shasta.\n\n\"Question him no more, Darrin,\" said King Lune. \"I see truth in his face. We must ride for it, gentlemen. A spare horse there, for the boy. You can ride fast, friend?\"\n\nFor answer Shasta put his foot in the stirrup of the horse which had been led toward him and a moment later he was in the saddle. He had done it a hundred times with Bree in the last few weeks, and his mounting was very different now from what it had been on that first night when Bree had said that he climbed up a horse as if he were climbing a haystack.\n\nHe was pleased to hear the Lord Darrin say to the King, \"The boy has a true horseman's seat, Sire. I'll warrant there's noble blood in him.\"\n\n\"His blood, aye, there's the point,\" said the King. And he stared hard at Shasta again with that curious expression, almost a hungry expression, in his steady gray eyes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But by now the whole party was moving off at a brisk canter. Shasta's seat was excellent but he was sadly puzzled what to do with his reins, for he had never touched the reins while he was on Bree's back. But he looked very carefully out of the corners of his eyes to see what the others were doing (as some of us have done at parties when we weren't quite sure which knife or fork we were meant to use) and tried to get his fingers right. But he didn't dare to try really directing the horse; he trusted it would follow the rest. The horse was of course an ordinary horse, not a Talking Horse; but it had quite wits enough to realize that the strange boy on its back had no whip and no spurs and was not really master of the situation. That was why Shasta soon found himself at the tail end of the procession.\n\nEven so, he was going pretty fast. There were no flies now and the air in his face was delicious. He had got his breath back too. And his errand had succeeded. For the first time since the arrival at Tashbaan (how long ago it seemed!) he was beginning to enjoy himself.\n\nHe looked up to see how much nearer the mountaintops had come. To his disappointment he could not see them at all: only a vague grayness, rolling down toward them. He had never been in mountain country before and was surprised. \"It's a cloud,\" he said to himself, \"a cloud coming down. I see. Up herein the hills one is really in the sky. I shall see what the inside of a cloud is like. What fun! I've often wondered.\" Faraway on his left and a little behind him, the sun was getting ready to set.\n\nThey had come to a rough kind of road by now and were making very good speed. But Shasta's horse was still the last of the lot. Once or twice when the road made a bend (there was now continuous forest on each side of it) he lost sight of the others fora second or two." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Then they plunged into the fog, or else the fog rolled over them." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The world became gray. Shasta had not realized how cold and wet the inside of a cloud would be; nor how dark. The gray turned to black with alarming speed.\n\nSomeone at the head of the column winded the horn every now and then, and each time the sound came from a little farther off. He couldn't see any of the others now, but of course he'd be able to as soon as he got round the next bend. But when he rounded it he still couldn't see them. In fact he could see nothing at all. His horse was walking now. \"Get on, Horse, get on,\" said Shasta. Then came the horn, very faint. Bree had always told him that he must keep his heels well turned out, and Shasta had got the idea that something very terrible would happen if he dug his heels into a horse's sides. This seemed to him an occasion for trying it. \"Look here, Horse,\" he said, \"if you don't buck up, do you know what I'll do? I'll dig my heels into you. I really will.\" The horse, however, took no notice of this threat. So Shasta settled himself firmly in the saddle, gripped with his knees, clenched his teeth, and punched both the horse's sides with his heels as hard as he could.\n\nThe only result was that the horse broke into a kind of pretense of a trot for five or six paces and then subsided into a walk again. And now it was quite dark and they seemed to have given up blowing that horn. The only sound was a steady drip-drip from the branches of the trees.\n\n\"Well, I suppose even a walk will get us somewhere sometime,\" said Shasta to himself. \"I only hope I shan't run into Rabadash and his people.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "He went on for what seemed like along time, always at a walking pace." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He began to hate that horse, and he was also beginning to feel very hungry.\n\nPresently he came to a place where the road divided into two. He was just wondering which led to Anvard when he was startled by a noise from behind him. It was the noise of trotting horses. \"Rabadash!\" thought Shasta. He had noway of guessing which road Rabadash would take. \"But if I take one,\" said Shasta to himself, \"he may take the other: and if I stay at the crossroads I'm sure to be caught.\" He dismounted and led his horse as quickly as he could along the right-hand road.\n\nThe sound of the cavalry grew rapidly nearer and in a minute or two Shasta realized that they were at the crossroads. He held his breath, waiting to see which way they would take.\n\nThere came a low word of command'Halt!\" then a moment of horsey noises-nostrils blowing, hoofs pawing, bits being champed, necks being patted. Then a voice spoke.\n\n\"Attend, all of you,\" it said. \"We are now within a furlong of the castle. Remember your orders. Once we are in Narnia, as we should be by sunrise, you are to kill as little as possible. On this venture you are to regard every drop of Narnian blood as more precious than a gallon of your own. On this venture, I say. The gods will send us a happier hour and then you must leave nothing alive between Cair Paravel and the Western Waste. But we are not yet in Narnia. Herein Archenland it is another thing. In the assault on this castle of King Lune's, nothing matters but speed. Show your mettle. It must be mine within an hour. And if it is, I give it all to you. I reserve no booty for myself. Kill me every barbarian male within its walls, down to the child that was born yesterday, and everything else is yours to divide as you please-the women, the gold, the jewels, the weapons, and the wine. The man that I see hanging back when we come to the gates shall be burned alive. In the name of Tash the irresistible, the inexorable-forward!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With a great cloppitty-clop the column began to move, and Shasta breathed again. They had taken the other road.\n\nShasta thought they took along time going past, for though he had been talking and thinking about'two hundred horse\" all day, he had not realized how many they really were. But at last the sound died away and once more he was alone amid the drip-drip from the trees.\n\nHe now knew the way to Anvard but of course he could not now go there: that would only mean running into the arms of Rabadash's troopers. \"What on earth am Ito do?\" said Shasta to himself. But he remounted his horse and continued along the road he had chosen, in the faint hope of finding some cottage where he might ask for shelter and a meal. He had thought, of course, of going back to Aravis and Bree and Hwin at the hermitage, but he couldn't because by now he had not the least idea of the direction.\n\n\"After all,\" said Shasta, \"this road is bound to get somewhere.\"\n\nBut that all depends on what you mean by somewhere. The road kept on getting to somewhere in the sense that it got to more and more trees, all dark and dripping, and to colder and colder air. And strange, icy winds kept blowing the mist past him though they never blew it away. If he had been used to mountain country he would have realized that this meant he was now very high up-perhaps right at the top of the pass. But Shasta knew nothing about mountains.\n\n\"I do think,\" said Shasta, \"that I must be the most unfortunate boy that ever lived in the whole world. Everything goes right for everyone except me. Those Narnian lords and ladies got safe away from Tashbaan; I was left behind. Aravis and Bree and Hwin are all as snug as anything with that old Hermit: of course I was the one who was sent on. King Lune and his people must have got safely into the castle and shut the gates long before Rabadash arrived, but I get left out.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And being very tired and having nothing inside him, he felt so sorry for himself that the tears rolled down his cheeks.\n\nWhat put a stop to all this was a sudden fright. Shasta discovered that someone or somebody was walking beside him. It was pitch dark and he could see nothing. And the Thing (or Person) was going so quietly that he could hardly hear any footfalls. What he could hear was breathing. His invisible companion seemed to breathe on a very large scale, and Shasta got the impression that it was a very large creature. And he had come to notice this breathing so gradually that he had really no idea how long it had been there. It was a horrible shock.\n\nIt darted into his mind that he had heard long ago that there were giants in these Northern countries. He bit his lip in terror. But now that he really had something to cry about, he stopped crying.\n\nThe Thing (unless it was a Person) went on beside him so very quietly that Shasta began to hope he had only imagined it. But just as he was becoming quite sure of it, there suddenly came a deep, rich sigh out of the darkness beside him. That couldn't be imagination! Anyway, he had felt the hot breath of that sigh on his chilly left hand.\n\nIf the horse had been any good-or if he had known how to get any good out of the horse-he would have risked everything on a breakaway and a wild gallop. But he knew he couldn't make that horse gallop. So he went on at a walking pace and the unseen companion walked and breathed beside him. At last he could bear it no longer.\n\n\"Who are you?\" he said, scarcely above a whisper.\n\n\"One who has waited long for you to speak,\" said the Thing. Its voice was not loud, but very large and deep." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Are you-are you a giant?\" asked Shasta.\n\n\"You might call me a giant,\" said the Large Voice. \"But I am not like the creatures you call giants.\"\n\n\"I can't see you at all,\" said Shasta, after staring very hard. Then (for an even more terrible idea had come into his head) he said, almost in a scream, \"You're not-not something dead, are you? Oh please-please do go away. What harm have I ever done you? Oh, I am the unluckiest person in the whole world!\"\n\nOnce more he felt the warm breath of the Thing on his hand and face. \"There,\" it said, \"that is not the breath of a ghost. Tell me your sorrows.\"\n\nShasta was a little reassured by the breath: so he told how he had never known his real father or mother and had been brought up sternly by the fisherman. And then he told the story of his escape and how they were chased by lions and forced to swim for their lives; and of all their dangers in Tashbaan and about his night among the tombs and how the beasts howled at him out of the desert. And he told about the heat and thirst of their desert journey and how they were almost at their goal when another lion chased them and wounded Aravis. And also, how very long it was since he had had anything to eat.\n\n\"I do not call you unfortunate,\" said the Large Voice.\n\n\"Don't you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?\" said Shasta.\n\n\"There was only one lion,\" said the Voice.\n\n\"What on earth do you mean? I've just told you there were at least two the first night, and-\"\n\n\"There was only one: but he was swift of foot.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How do you know?\"\n\n\"I was the lion.\" And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. \"I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.\"\n\n\"Then it was you who wounded Aravis?\"\n\n\"It was I.\"\n\n\"But what for?\"\n\n\"Child,\" said the Voice, \"I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.\"\n\n\"Who are you?\" asked Shasta.\n\n\"Myself,\" said the Voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook: and again'Myself,\" loud and clear and gay: and then the third time'Myself,\" whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet it seemed to come from all round you as if the leaves rustled with it.\n\nShasta was no longer afraid that the Voice belonged to something that would eat him, nor that it was the voice of a ghost. But anew and different sort of trembling came over him. Yet he felt glad too.\n\nThe mist was turning from black to gray and from gray to white. This must have begun to happen sometime ago, but while he had been talking to the Thing he had not been noticing anything else. Now, the whiteness around him became a shining whiteness; his eyes began to blink. Somewhere ahead he could hear birds singing. He knew the night was over at last. He could seethe mane and ears and head of his horse quite easily now. A golden light fell on them from the left. He thought it was the sun." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He turned and saw, pacing beside him, taller than the horse, a Lion. The horse did not seem to be afraid of it or else could not see it. It was from the Lion that the light came. No one ever saw anything more terrible or beautiful.\n\nLuckily Shasta had lived all his life too far south in Calormen to have heard the tales that were whispered in Tashbaan about a dreadful Narnian demon that appeared in the form of a lion. And of course he knew none of the true stories about Aslan, the great Lion, the son of the Emperor-over-the-sea, the King above all High Kings in Narnia. But after one glance at the Lion's face he slipped out of the saddle and fell at its feet. He couldn't say anything but then he didn't want to say anything, and he knew he needn't say anything.\n\nThe High King above all kings stooped toward him. Its mane, and some strange and solemn perfume that hung about the mane, was all round him. It touched his forehead with its tongue. He lifted his face and their eyes met. Then instantly the pale brightness of the mist and the fiery brightness of the Lion rolled themselves together into a swirling glory and gathered themselves up and disappeared. He was alone with the horse on a grassy hillside under a blue sky. And there were birds singing." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Partnering with the author, carry on with the tale.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 2" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They kept riding until they came to a large, beautiful lake full of crystal clear water, and in the middle of the lake, Arthur saw an arm clothed in white cloth holding a beautiful sword.\n\n\"Behold, there is the sword of which I spoke,\" pointed Merlin.\n\nSuddenly they saw a girl walking on the surface of the lake.\n\n\"Who is that girl?\" asked Arthur.\n\n\"That is the Lady of the Lake,\" said Merlin.\n\nSir Thomas Malory\n\nLe Morte D'arthur\n\nThe lake was enchanted. About that there could be no doubt.\n\nFirstly: it lay beside the mouth of the enchanted valley Cwm Pwcca, the mysterious valley perpetually shrouded by fog and famed for its magical properties and phenomena.\n\nSecondly: one look was enough.\n\nThe surface of the water was a deep blue like a polished sapphire and smooth as a mirror. So much so that the peaks of the mountain Y Wyddfa that were reflected in it were more beautiful than those that loomed over the lake. From the water blew a refreshing coolness and the dignified silence was disturbed by nothing, not even the splashing offish or the cries of a bird.\n\nThe knight shook off the impression. But rather than continue riding along the crest of the hill, he led his horse down to the lake. As if drawn by the magnetic force of a spell that slumbered there, deep down in the dark waters. The horse stepped timidly among the broken rocks, giving a snort indicating that he sensed the magical aura of the place.\n\nUpon reaching the bank the knight dismounted. He took the stallion's bridle and led him to where small waves disappeared among the colored pebbles." }, { "from": "human", "value": "His armor rattled when he knelt." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Startling fry and fish as vivid as tiny needles, he scooped water into his hands. He drank slowly and cautiously, the ice cold water numbed his tongue and lips and hurt his teeth.\n\nWhen he bent down to collect water a second time a sound travelled over the surface of the lake. He raised his head. The horse whinnied, confirming that he also heard it.\n\nHe listened. No, it was not an illusion. What he heard was singing. A woman singing. Or rather a girl.\n\nLike all knights he had been raised with bard tales of chivalry. In these tales a girl singing or calling was in nine cases out often, a lure. The knight who followed inevitably fell into an ambush. Often fatal.\n\nBut curiosity won out. The knight was only nineteen years old. He was very courageous and very foolish. He was famous for one and known for the other.\n\nHe checked that his sword was in its sheath, then led his horse and set off up the beach in the direction of the singing. He did not have to go far.\n\nThe shore was strewn with huge boulders, dark and polished to a bright shine, giant toys carelessly tossed here and forgotten about after completing the game. Some of the boulders were lying in the water of the lake, under the dark surface. Some rose above the surface and were licked by small waves, giving the impression of being ridges of a sleeping Leviathan. But most of them were lying on the shore, from the beach to the forest. Some were buried in the sand and were only partially sticking out, leaving the imagination to guess how big they really were.\n\nThe singing which the knight heard came from just behind those boulders. The singing girl remained invisible. He pulled his horse, holding him buy the muzzle and nostrils so as to stop him from neighing or snorting." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The girl's clothes lay on one of the boulders lying in the shallows, flat like a table." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The girl herself stood naked, waist-deep in the water and was washing, singing and splashing in the process. The knight listened to her singing but did not understand the words.\n\nAnd no wonder.\n\nThe girl, he would be his head, was not human. This was demonstrated by the slender body, the strange hair color and the voice. He was sure that if she turned around he would see big almond shaped eyes. And if she swept her ashen hair back he would see ears ending in points.\n\nThis was a resident of Faerie. A fairy. One of the Tylwyth Teg. One of those, which the Picts and the Irish called Sidhe Daoine, the People of the Hills. One of those that the Saxons called elves.\n\nShe stopped singing fora moment and immersed herself up to her neck, she panted and snarled and cursed. The knight, however was not fooled. Fairies, as everyone knew, knew how to swear like a human being. Some said as obscenely as a stable boy. And the curse was often a prelude to some malicious trick, which fairies were famous for– for example, increasing the size of someone's nose to the size of a cucumber or reducing the size of someone masculinity to the size of a bean.\n\nThe knight had no interest in neither the first or the second option, so he tried to slip away quietly. He was betrayed by a horse. Not his own mount who he still held it's nostrils so he was quiet and calm, but the horse belonging to the fairy, which the knight did not initially noticed between the boulders. Now the pitch-black mare stamped at the gravel and neighed in greeting. The knight's stallion shook his head and replied politely. The echo reaching across the water." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The fairy came splashing out of the water, presenting the knight fora moment all her glory pleasant to the eye. She threw herself toward the rock on which lay her clothes. But instead of grasping clothes to decently cover herself with, the fairy grabbed a sword and pulled it from its scabbard with a hiss, clutching the steel with amazing skill. It lasted a brief moment, after which the fairy quickly knelt down, hiding in the water up to her nose and holding her arm with the sword in it above the surface of the water.\n\nThe knight blinked in amazement, dropped the reins and bent his knee, kneeling in the wet sand. He understood immediately who it was before him.\n\n\"Hail, O Lady of the Lake,\" he breathed while stretching out his hands, \"it is an honor, a tremendous honor... I accept your sword.\"\n\n\"I'd prefer if you rose and turned around, \"the Fairy poked her mouth above the water.\" Maybe stop staring? And let me get dressed? '\n\nHe obeyed.\n\nHe heard her leaving the water and the rustling of clothes and the sound of her swearing softly as she pulled them onto her wet body. He busied himself staring at the black mare, its coat soft and shiny like the skin of a mole. It was definitely of noble blood and fast like the wind. It was undoubtedly a magic horse, and also an inhabitant of Faerie, as well as its owner.\n\n\"You can turnaround.\"\n\n\"Lady of the Lake...\"\n\n\"And introduce yourself.\"\n\n\"I am Galahad, of Caer Benice. A knight of King Arthur, Lord of Camelot, ruler of the Kingdom of Summer, as well as Dumnonia, Dyfnaint, Powys, Dyfed...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And Temeria?\" she interrupted. \"Redania. Rivia, Aedirn? Nilfgaard? Would you say any of these names?\"\n\n\"No. I have never heard of them.\"\n\nShe shrugged her shoulders. In her hand, besides the sword she was holding boots and a shirt, washed and wrung out.\n\n\"I thought so. What day is it?\"\n\n\"It is,\" he replied with surprise, \"the second full moon after Beltane... Lady...\"\n\n\"Ciri,\" she said unthinkingly, twisting her shoulders to better position the clothes drying on her skin. She spoke with a strange accent. Her eyes were green and huge...\n\nShe instinctively brushed back her wet hair and the knight sighed involuntary. Not only because her ear was normal, human and in noway elven. Her cheek was marred by a huge, ugly scar. She had been injured. But how can you injure a fairy?\n\nShe noticed his astonished gaze, she narrowed her eyes and wrinkled her nose.\n\n\"A scar, yes!\" she said with her striking accent. \"Why do you look so frightened? Is it such an uncommon thing fora knight, a scar? Or is it so ugly?\"\n\nHe slowly, with both hands pulled down the hood of his chain mail and passed his hands through his hair.\n\n\"Certainly not an uncommon thing fora knight,\" he said with youthful pride, demonstrating a barely healed scar running from his temple to his jaw. \"And nasty are the scars of honor. I am Galahad, son of Lancelot du Lac and Elaine, daughter of King Pelles, Lord of Caer Benic. This wound was caused tome by Breunis the Cruel, an undignified oppressor of women, even though I beat him in a fair duel. Truly, I am honored to take this sword from your hand, Lady of the Lake...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What?\"\n\n\"The sword. I am willing to accept it.\"\n\n\"This is my sword. I don't let anyone touch it. '\n\n\"But...\"\n\n\"But what?\"\n\n\"The Lady of the Lake has always... Always emerges from the water and gives her sword.\"\n\nShe was silent for sometime.\n\n\"I understand,\" she said finally. \"Well, another country, another custom. I'm sorry, Galahad or whatever your name is, but apparently you have not found the lady of which you have heard. I am not giving away anything. Or letting anything betaken. Let's be clear.\"\n\n\"But yet,\" he dared to say, \"you've come from the Faerie, Lady, is it so? '\n\n\"I come,\" she said after a moment, her green eyes seemed to stare into the abyss of space and time. \"I come from Rivia, and from the city of the same name. Next to the lake Loc Eskalott. I came hereon a boat. It was foggy. I could not seethe edges. I heard neighing. Kelpie... My mare had followed me.\"\n\nShe spread her wet shirt out on a stone. The knight gave a start again. The shirt was washed, but not very thoroughly. He could still see traces of blood.\n\n\"The river current brought me here,\" continued the girl, without seeing that he had noticed or pretending not to see. \"The river current and the magic of the unicorn... What do you call this lake?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" he admitted. \"In Gwynedd there are many lakes...\"\n\n\"In Gwynedd?\"\n\n\"Of course. Those are the mountains, Y Wyddfa. If you keep them to your left and if you go through the forest for two days you'll arrive at Dinas Dinlleu and beyond that Caer Dathal. And the river... The nearest river... '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It's not important what the nearest river is. Do you have anything to eat, Galahad? I'm starving. Why are you looking at me like that? Are you afraid that I'll disappear? That I'll fly off with your sausage and biscuits? Don't be afraid. In my world I have created enough mess and I won't be going back for sometime. So I will stay in yours fora time. Ina world in which I search in vain for the Dragon or the Seven Goats in the night sky. Where we are now in the second full moon after Belleteyn and Belleteyn is pronounced Beltane. Why do you stare at me, I ask you?\"\n\n\"I did not know that fairies eat.\"\n\n\"Fairies, sorceresses and elves. They all eat. They drink. And soon.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"It does not matter.\"\n\nThe longer he studied her, the more she lost her magical aura and became more humane and ordinary– almost mundane. He knew, however, that such was not the case, it could not\n\nbe. A plain, ordinary girl would never have been met alone at the foot of Y Wyddfa, on the edge of Cwm Pwcca, bathing naked in a mountain lake and washing a blood-stained shirt. No matter how the girl looked, in no case could she bean earthly creature. Despite knowing this, Galahad could look calmly and without superstitious fear at her mouse colored hair, which to his amazement now that it was dry, was traversed by shiny streaks of grey. He could now look at her slender hands, her little nose, her pale lips her male clothing with a strange cut, made with an extremely delicate fabric. And her sword, with its strange design and ornaments, but did not seem like an ornament for parades. And her bare feet, covered with the dry sand of the beach." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"To be clear,\" she spoke, wiping one foot with the other, \"I'm not a fairy or an elf. A sorceress, that is, a fairy, I'm... a little unusual. Ehh, I'm not. '\n\n\"I'm sorry, really. '\n\n\"Why are you sorry?\"\n\n\"They say...\" he blushed and stammered. \"They say that fairies, if they happen to encounter a young man, they lead them to Elfland and there... Under the bushes in a forest, on abed of moss, show them...\"\n\n\"I understand,\" she looked at him quickly and firmly bit the sausage. \"In regards to the Land of the Elves,\" she said swallowing, \"I fled there sometime ago and I'm in no hurry to return. With regards to the bed of moss... Indeed, Galahad, you have not found the lady that was needed. Nevertheless, thank you for your interest. '\n\n\"Lady! I did not mean to offend you...\"\n\n\"Do not apologize.\"\n\n\"It's because you are so beautiful. '\n\n\"I thank you again. But this changes nothing.\"\n\nThey were silent fora while. It was hot. The sun at it zenith warmed the stones nicely. A slight breeze wrinkled the surface of the lake.\n\n\"What does it mean..\" Galahad suddenly said in a strangely exalted voice. \"What does it mean, a spear with bloody tip? What does it mean and why does the King suffer so, from a pierced thigh? What does a lady in white carrying a grail a silver cup...\"\n\n\"Are you feeling alright?\" she interrupted.\n\n\"I'm just asking. '\n\n\"I do not understand your question. Is it a password? A signal with which to recognize initiates? Explain it tome.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I cannot explain better.\"\n\n\"Then why do you ask?\"\n\n\"Because...\" he said, fidgeting. \"Just... One of us did not ask we he had the opportunity. Either he could not find the words or her was ashamed... He did not ask and that is why many misfortunes have occurred. So now I always ask. Justin case.\"\n\n\"Are there any wizards in this world? You know, those dealing in magic. Mages. Seers.\"\n\n\"There is Merlin. Or Morgana. But Morgana is evil.\"\n\n\"And Merlin?\"\n\n\"About half.\"\n\n\"Do you know whereto find him?\"\n\n\"Of course. In Camelot. In the court of King Arthur. I'm headed there. '\n\n\"Is it far?\"\n\n\"From hereto Powys, to the river Hafen, then up the Hafen to Glevum. From there it is near to the plains near the Kingdom of Summer. All in all about ten days riding.\"\n\n\"Too far.\"\n\n\"You can,\" he stammered, \"shorten the journey by going through Cwm Pwcca. But it is an enchanted valley. It is horrible. There live the Y Dynan Bach Teg, evil dwarves...\"\n\n\"Do you only wear your sword for show?\"\n\n\"And can a sword do anything against magic?\"\n\n\"Can do, can do, do not doubt. I'm a witcher. Have you heard of them? Eh, of course you haven't heard. And I'm not afraid of dwarves. I have many friends among the dwarves. '\n\nSure, he thought.\n\n\"Lady of the Lake?\"\n\n\"My name is Ciri. Do not call me Lady of the Lake. It brings back unpleasant memories, painful, harmful. So they called me in the Land of... What did you call this land?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Faerie. Or as the Druids say: Annwn. Or Elfland by the Saxons.\"\n\n\"Elfland...\" she covered her shoulders with a checkered blanket. \"I was there, you know? I entered the Tower of the Swallow and bam, I was among the elves. And that's what they called me. Lady of the Lake. I even liked it at first. It flattered me. Until I realize that in that land, in that tower over the lake, I was no lady, but a prisoner. '\n\n\"Is that,\" he could not hide his curiosity, \"where you stained your shirt with blood?\"\n\nShe paused fora longtime.\n\n\"No,\" she said at last, and her voice it seemed was trembling slightly. \"Not there. You have keen eyes. In short, you cannot escape the truth by hiding your head in the sand... Yes, Galahad. I'm often covering in blood in recent times. With the blood of the enemies I've killed. And with the blood of friends who I tried to save... and who died in my arms... Why do you look at me like that?\"\n\n\"I do not know if you area goddess or a mortal woman. Ora supernatural being born on earth...\"\n\n\"Get to the point if you please.\"\n\n\"I wish,\" Galahad's eyes flared,\"to hear thy story. Would you tell me, O Lady? '\n\n\"It is long.\"\n\n\"We have time.\"\n\n\"And it does not end happily.\"\n\n\"I do not believe that.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"You were singing as you bathed in the lake.\"\n\n\"You are observant,\" she turned her head, pursed her lips and a wrinkled marred her face suddenly. \"Yes, observant, But very innocent.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Tell me thy story. Please.\"\n\n\"Well, if you want,\" she sighed. \"I will tell.\"\n\nShe sat down comfortably. The horses walked along the edge of the forest, grazing on grasses and herbs.\n\n\"From the beginning,\" Galahad prompted. \"From the very beginning...\"\n\n\"More and more, it seems to me\" she said after a moment, tightly wrapping the plaid blanket around her, \"my story actually has no beginning. I'm not even sure whether it has actually ended. Know that the past and the present intermingle terribly. There was an elf who told me that it is like a snake that bites it own tail. This snake, so you know, is called Uroboros. And if he bites his own tail it means the circle is closed. In any moment of time is hidden the past, present and future. In any moment of time lies eternity. Do you understand? '\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"It doesn't matter. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Truly, I say, who believes in dreams is like one who wants to catch the wind or is grasping at shadows. Fooled by deceptive images in a curved mirror that lies or twists the truth like a false woman. It is a fool indeed who gives faith to the dream and walks the path of deception.\n\nBut even he who has few dreams should not put faith in them and wisely does not. Why, if dreams would not have any meaning, would the gods gift us the ability to dream?\n\nThe wisdom of the prophet Lebioda, 34; 1\n\nIs all that we see or seem\n\nBut a dream within a dream?\n\nEdgar Allan Poe\n\nA breeze wrinkled the steaming cauldron that was the surface of the lake, scattering thin ribbons of morning mist. The oarlocks squeaked and rumbled rhythmically, a bright spray of droplets showered from the oars.\n\nCondwiramurs put her hand on the railing. The boat wassailing at a slow speed and the water rose and fell just over her fingers.\n\n\"Ah ah,\" she said, putting as much sarcasm in her voice as she could. \"What a speed! We seem to be flying over the waves. My head is spinning!\"\n\nThe rower, a short, stocky, thickset man, growled something angry and indistinct, not even raising his head of overgrown curly hair, worthy of a sheep. The adept was already fed up of the muttering, grunting and growling, with which the man used to answer her questions.\n\n\"Careful,\" she said with difficulty, maintaining the peace. \"From rowing so rapidly you could overturn the boat.\"\n\nThis time the man lifted his face, with skin that was as dark as if it had been tanned. He muttered, coughed and pointed with his gray stubble chin to a line mounted on the rail on a wooden reel that disappeared into the water, straining with the motion of the boat. Apparently convinced that the explanation was enough, he continued rowing. With the same pace as before. Oars up. Pause. Lower the oars half into the water. Long pause. Pull. An even longer pause." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ah,\" Condwiramurs said looking at the sky. \"I understand. It is important that the lure that you drag behind the boat must move at the proper speed and the proper depth. Fishing is important. Nothing else matters.\"\n\nIt was so obvious that the man did not even both to grunt.\n\n\"Well, who cares,\" Condwiramurs continued her monologue, \"that I have been travelling through the night? That I'm hungry? That my ass hurts and itches from the hard, wet bench? That I have topee? No, it is only important to catch fish. And it is pointless anyway. The lure that we are dragging behind us in the middle of the stream is not going to catch anything. '\n\nThe man raised his head and gave her an ugly look. Condwiramurs flashed her teeth in a sly smile. The man continued to row slowly. He was angry.\n\nShe collapsed on the bench at the stern and crossed her legs. So that the slits in her shirts were as visible as possible.\n\nThe man grunted and pulled on the oars with his calloused hands, pretending not to watched anything but the towrope. Of course, the speed of the rowing did not accelerate. The adept sighed in resignation and turned to watch the sky.\n\nThe oarlocks creaked, shiny droplets splashed from the paddles.\n\nFrom out of the quickly lifting fog appeared the outline of an island. And rising above it the dark obelisk of a domed tower. The man, sitting with his back to it was aware that they had almost arrived. Taking his time, he placed the oars inside the boat, stood up and began to slowly wind the rope on the reel. Condwiramurs still with her legs crossed, whistled and watched the sky." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The man slowly rolled up the end of the fishing line and began to view the lure– a shiny brass spoon equipped with a triple hook tail of dyed wool.\n\n\"Oh, nothing caught,\" Condwiramurs said sweetly, \"What a shame. I wonder why you were so unlucky? Maybe the boat was moving too fast?\"\n\nThe man gave her a look that said a lot of ugly things. He sat down, coughed, spat overboard grabbed the oars in his gnarled hands and bent his strong back. The oars splashed, stirring in the oarlocks and the boat was launched across the lake like an arrow, the water roared and foamed at the bow and circled in whirls at the stern. The distance separating them\n\nfrom the shore was about the quarter of the length of a crossbow shot and they covered the distance in two grunts. The boat slammed into the sand with such force that Condwiramurs fell off the bench.\n\nThe man muttered, coughed and spat. The adept knew that translated into the language of civilized people as'Get out of my boat, annoying witch!\" She also knew that she couldn't count on his arms to get her out. She took off her shoes, lifted her skirt of a provocative height and lowered herself from the ship. She swallowed a curse as the shells on the shore dug painfully into her feet.\n\n\"Thank you,\" she said through clenched teeth, \"for the ride.\"\n\nWithout waiting for the next grunt and not looking back, she walked barefoot towards the stone stairs. All the hardships and pains had fled without a trace, erased by her growing excitement. She was hereon the island of Inis Vitre, on the lake Loc Blest. It was an almost legendary place where only a chosen few visited." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The morning fog had lifted almost entirely, the red ball of the sun began to shine strongly in the heavens. Above the water, crying seagulls circled and flew around the battlements of the tower.\n\nAt the top of the staircase leading from the shore to a terrace, leaning against a statue of crouching, grinning chimera, was Nimue.\n\nThe Lady of the Lake.\n\nShe was delicate and small, she was no larger than five feet. Condwiramurs heard mention that as a young girl they called her'Thumbelina,\" now she saw the nickname was appropriate. But she was sure that fora least half a century no one had daresay that to the little sorceress.\n\n\"I'm Condwiramurs Tilly, \"she introduced herself with a nod, a little embarrassed, still with her shoes in her hand.\"I am happy that you have invited me to your island, Lady of the Lake. '\n\n\"Nimue,\" the little sorceress corrected. \"Nimue and nothing else. We can forgo the titles and epithets, Lady Tilly.\"\n\n\"In that case, I'm Condwiramurs. Condwiramurs and nothing else. '\n\n\"Then, with your permission, Condwiramurs. We'll talk over breakfast. I guess you are hungry. '\n\n\"I will not deny it.\"\n\nThe breakfast was rye bread, cottage cheese with chive butter, eggs and milk. Serving it was two very young, quiet and maid who smelled of starch. While dinning Condwiramurs felt the stare of the small sorceress.\n\n\"This tower,\" Nimue said, watching ever movement of her visitor, her every bite, \"has six floors, including one underground. Your room is on the second floor, you'll find all the necessary comforts. On the ground floor, you see, is for the management of the house, here is where then rooms for the servants are. In the basement is the laboratory and in the first and third floors are the library and the gallery. To all these floors you have free access and use to all the equipment that is in them, whenever you want. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I understand. Thank you.\"\n\n\"In the upper two floors are my private rooms and office. In those rooms I was absolute privacy. For the future to avoid misunderstandings, note that in this respect I am very sensitive.\"\n\n\"I respect that.\"\n\nNimue turned her head towards the window, through which one could seethe gruff fisherman who had managed to unload all of Condwiramurs luggage and now carried in his boat a reel, nets and other paraphernalia of the art of fishing.\n\n\"I'm a little old fashioned, \"she continued.\"But somethings I'm used to using somethings with exclusive rights. Toothbrushes, for example. My private rooms, my library, my bathroom. And the Fisher King. Please do not try and use the Fisher King.\"\n\nCondwiramurs nearly choked on her milk. Nimue's face expressed nothing whatsoever.\n\n\"And if...\" She continued before the woman regained speech. \"And if he was interested to use you, reject him.\"\n\nCondwiramurs, swallowed and finally nodded her head, refraining from make any comments. Although she was about to say a stinging rejoined, that rural fisherman were not her type. Especially when they have a gray head and manifest themselves as morose louts.\n\n\"So,\" Nimue said emphatically. \"We have made our introductions. It is time to move onto more specific things. Do you want to know why out of so many candidates I choose precisely you?\"\n\nCondwiramurs, if she thought a bit before answering, would only show that she was pretending not to show too much pride. She however, concluded that to show Nimue false modesty, even if it was only a very small degree, would sound too fake." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I'm the best at the academy, \"she replied coolly, objectively and without boasting.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In my third year I had the second best rating in oneiromancy. '\n\n\"I could have brought tome the first.\" Nimue said, painfully sincere. \"Incidentally, you were proposed tome with honors. Even quit strongly, because apparently you are the daughter of someone important. As for dreaming, dear Condwiramurs, you know, that oneiromancy it is a somewhat fickle gift. Failure can happen to even the best dreamer.\"\n\nCondwiramurs again refrained from a brisk replay that its failures can be counted on the fingers of one hand. After all, she was speaking with a master. It is necessary to know peace in matters large and small, as one of her professors are the academy was fond of saying.\n\nNimue's reward for her silence was a nod of approval.\n\n\"I have detailed reports on you,\" she said. \"I know that you do not need the help of dreaming dugs. I am glad, because I do not tolerate drugs.\"\n\n\"I dream without drugs,\" Condwiramurs confirmed with pride. \"With oneiromancy it is enough for me if I have an anchor.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Well, an anchor,\" the adept cleared her throat. \"Something that the subject who I'm dreaming about is somehow associated with. Any personal belongings. Ora picture... '\n\n\"A picture?\"\n\n\"Yes. I'm never wrong with a picture. '\n\n\"Oh.\" Nimue smiled. \"Oh if a picture helps, then we will not have a problem. If you have finished breakfast, let's go, the best and second best among the oneiromancers. It would be good for me to explain the other reasons why it is I chose you as an assistant. '\n\nThe stonewalls emitted cold, which even the dark wood paneling and carpeting wasn't able to stop. She felt cold even through the soles of her shoes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Beyond these doors,\" Nimue pointed out, \"is the laboratory. As I mentioned, you can use it as you wish. Of course, I recommend caution. Moderation is advised, especially if you try and force a broom to carry water.\"\n\nCondwiramurs laughed out of politeness, even though it was an old joke. All the professors in her lectures entertained jokes that related to the mythical trouble of the legendary magician's apprentice.\n\nThe staircase wound up like a sea serpent, and it seemed to have no end. It's stages were high and steep. Before they arrived, the young adept was panting and sweating, but Nimue seemed to appear not affected in anyway by the effort.\n\n\"This way please,\" she opened a oak door. \"Beware the threshold.\"\n\nCondwiramurs entered and sighed.\n\nThe room was a gallery. Its walls were covered with paintings from floor to ceiling. There hung huge oil paintings, old chipped and cracked miniatures, engravings, and yellowed woodcuts, faded watercolors and sepia. There also hung here recent works– vivid colors, modernist tempera and gouache, aquatints and etchings of clean strokes, contrasting prints and mezzotints, which attracted the eye with its sharp black spots.\n\nNimue stopped before a picture that was hanging closer to the door, depicting a group of people gathered under a huge tree. She looked at the canvas, then Condwiramurs and her silent gaze was extraordinary eloquent.\n\n\"Dandelion,\" the adept said, realizing the point was not to wait, \"singing ballads at the foot of the oak Bleobheris.\"\n\nNimue smiled and nodded. She took a step and stood before another picture. Watercolor. Symbolism. Two female figures on a hill. Gulls circling above them, beneath them, on the slopes of the hill, a procession of shadows." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ciri and Triss Merigold. The prophetic vision at Kaer Morhen.\"\n\nSmile, nod, step, another picture. A rider on a galloping horse, a misshapen double row of alders, stretching out their arms their branches towards him. Condwiramurs felt a chill go through her.\n\n\"Ciri... Hmmm... Apparently her night ride to her meeting with Geralt at the Halfling Hofmeier's farm. '\n\nThe next picture, a dark oil painting. A battle scene.\n\n\"Geralt and Cahir defending the bridge on the Yaruga.\"\n\nThen faster and faster.\n\n\"Yennefer and Ciri, their first meeting in the temple of Melitele. Dandelion and the dryad Eithné, in the woods of Brokilon. The company of Geralt during a blizzard on the mountain pass of Malheur...\"\n\n\"Well done,\" Nimue praised. \"A excellent knowledge of legend. Now you know the second reason why you are hear and not someone else.\"\n\nAbove the ebony table at which they sat, was dominated by a large canvas depicting a battle scene, it seemed to be the Battle of Brenna, a key moment in the battle or a tacky scene of a death of a hero. The canvas was beyond a doubt the work of Nicholas Certosy, you could tell by the expression, the perfect attention to details and the artist's lighting effects.\n\n\"Yes, I know the legend of the Sorceress and the Witcher,\" said Condwiramurs. \"I daresay, down to the smallest detail. As a child I loved this story, I literally listened to the story and read it many times. I dreamed to be Yennefer. But I'll be honest– even if it was love at first sight, even if they were explosively passionate... It was not eternal. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nimue raised her eyebrows.\n\n\"I learned that the history,\" said Condwiramurs, 'was a popular abbreviation for young people, Later I naturally read a few of the so-call full and serious versions. Dilated to the border of redundancy and sometimes beyond. Then my passion was replaced by cool\n\nreflection and the passionate flare turned into something like a marriage of convenience. You know what I mean? '\n\nNimue's nod was barely perceptible confirming that she knew.\n\n\"In short, I prefer those legends that cling more to the legendary conventions, and do not mix fiction with reality and do not try and combine the simple and straightforward moral of a fairy tale with amoral historical truth. I prefer the legends without the prefaces of the encyclopedists, archaeologists and historians. Those whose conventionalism are free of experiments. I prefer that if the prince comes to the top of Crystal Mountain and kisses Sleeping Beauty, she wakes up and the two live happily ever after. Yes, no other, should end a legend... Who painted this portrait of Ciri? The one on the stand?\"\n\n\"There is not one portrait of Ciri,\" the voice of the little sorceress was dry. \"Neither here nor anywhere in the world. There remains not a single portrait or miniature painted by someone who has seen Ciri or even remembers her. The portrait on the stand shows Pavetta, Ciri's mother. It was painted by the dwarf, Ruiz Dorrit, the court painter for the rulers of Cintra. It was documented that Dorrit portrayed Ciri when she as ten years old, but the picture had not been preserved. Let us go back to the legend and your relationship with it. In your opinion how should legends end? '\n\n\"They should have a good ending,\" she insisted. 'Good must prevail. Evil must be punished byway of example; the lovers are joined together until the end of life. And none of the good heroes may due, dammit! And the legend of Ciri? How does it end?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Exactly. How?\"\n\nCondwiramurs was speechless fora moment. She had not expected such a question; she smelled a test, an exam, a trap. She stopped to avoid being caught.\n\nHow ends the legend of Ciri and Geralt? After all, everyone knows that.\n\nShe stared into the dark tones of the watercolor depicting the clumsy barge moving along the surface over a misty lake, a figure standing on the barge was only visible as a black silhouette.\n\nThis is how the legend ends. That's right.\n\nNimue read her mind.\n\n\"It is not that certain, Condwiramurs. It is not that certain.\"\n\n\"The legend,\" said Nimue, \" I first heard from the lips of a wandering storyteller. I was village child, the fourth daughter of a poor cottager. The most beautiful memories from my childhood are days when the wandering storyteller Pogwizd came to our village. I could forget fora few moments my work and in my mind's eye I could see these fabulous wonders, see this wide open world... A beautiful and miraculous world... Further and more wondrous than the town nine miles away... I was about six or seven years old. My sister was fourteen and she was beginning to slouch from the eternal toil. A woman's destiny. We were preparing for it since childhood. Slouching! We were constantly stooped, bending our backs to work, to care for the child because the weight of your gut has yet to recover from childbirth... It was these stories of the old man that made me begin to desire more than just toil and bending, dream more of giving birth, a husband and children. The first book I bought with the money I got for the sale of blueberries I picked in the forest was the legend of Ciri. This version as you aptly put it was softened and modified for young people. This was the version for me. I read poorly. But even then I knew what I wanted. I wanted to be like Philippa Eilhart or Síle de Tansarville, and Assire var Anahid... '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Both looked at the gouache, representing a table in the hall of a castle with women sitting around it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Legendary women.\n\n\"At the Academy,\" continued Nimue, \"in which I entered on the second attempt, I was concerned with only the legend of the Grand Lodge and its aspect in the history of magic lectures. I had no time for reading for pleasure at first; I had to occupy my time... to keep pace with the daughters of earls and bankers for which everything was easy, they laughed at a village girl...\"\n\nShe paused, then snapped her fingers.\n\n\"Finally,\" she went on. \"I found time for reading, but then I realized that the adventures of Geralt and Ciri held far less interest tome that they did in my childhood. It appears to be a similar syndrome with meas with you. What did you call it? A marriage of convenience? That was until...\"\n\nShe paused and wiped her hands over her face. Condwiramurs noticed with astonishment that the little sorceress's hand trembled.\n\n\"I was about eighteen when... when it happened. Something that revived the legend of Ciri in me. I started to deal with it seriously and scientifically. I devoted my life to it.\"\n\nThe adept was silent and listened intently.\n\n\"Do not pretend like you did not know,\" Nimue said sharply. \"Everyone knows that the Lady of the Lake is possessed by an almost unhealthy obsession with the legend of Ciri. Everyone gossips about how it started out as a harmless hobby that gradually turned into something like a drug addiction, or even mania. There area lot of truth in these rumors, my dear Condwiramurs, a lot of truth! And you, if you chose to assist will also falling to mania and addiction. Because I demand it. At least for the duration of your practice. Do you understand?\"\n\nThe adept nodded." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You seem to understand,\" Nimue controlled her emotions. \"But I'll explain. Gradually. And when the time comes, you'll know everything. But for now...\"\n\nShe paused and looked out the window at the lake, at the black silhouette of the boat of the Fisher King, a contrast to the shimmering, golden surface of the lake.\n\n\"For now, rest. Look around the gallery. Look in cabinets and shelves and you'll find albums and cardboard prints, all related to the legend. In the library are all versions and transformations of the legend and almost all the scientific literature. Give them sometime. Look, read, concentrate. I want you to get inspiration to dream. An anchor, as you say. '\n\n\"I'll do it. Lady Nimue? '\n\n\"I'm listening. '\n\n\"The two portraits. These hanging side by side... Are these not Ciri?\"\n\n\"There are no portraits of Ciri,\" Nimue patiently repeated. \"Later artists portrayed her only in scenes, each according to his own imagination. As for the portraits, the one on the left is a variation on the chosen topic, it is the elf Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal, a person who the painter could not have known. The painters name is Lydia van Bredevoort. One of her surviving oils still hangs in the academy.\"\n\n\"I know. And the other portrait?\"\n\nNimue looked fora longtime at the portrait of a young girl with blond hair and sad eyes. She was dressed in a white dress with green sleeves.\n\n\"Robin Anderida painted it,\" she said, she turned to look Condwiramurs straight in the eye. \"And whom it portrays... That is for you the dreamer and oneiromacy to find out. Dream this. And tell me your dream.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Master Robin Anderida saw the Emperor approaching first and bent low in a bow. Stella Congreve, Countess of Liddertal, stood up, curtsied and with a quick gesture motioned for the girl sitting in the carved chair to do the same.\n\n\"My greeting, ladies,\" Emhyr var Emreis nodded his head. \"And my greetings to you, Master Robin. How is your work?\"\n\nMaster Robin grunted embarrassed and bowed again, nervously wiping his fingers on his apron. Emhyr knew that the artist suffered from severe agoraphobia and was pathologically shy. But who cared about that. What mattered was how he painted.\n\nAs usual, when he was travelling on the road, the emperor was wearing an officer's uniform of the'Impera\" Guard Brigade– black armor and cloak embroidered with a silver salamander. He stepped closer and examined the portrait. First the portrait, then the model, a slender girl with blond hair and sad eyes. Ina white dress with green sleeves and wearing a necklace with a single jewel.\n\n\"Excellent,\" he said deliberately into space and in such away that it was not possible to estimate what was praised. \"Excellent, Master. Please continue, do not pay any attention tome. If you will allow me a moment, Countess.\"\n\nHe walked a few steps towards the window forcing her to follow him.\n\n\"I'm leaving, \"he said quietly.\"Affairs of state. Thank you for your hospitality. And the princess. Well done, Stella. You really should be commended. Her too. '\n\nStella Congreve curtsied deeply and with grace.\n\n\"The Imperial Majesty is exceedingly kind to us.\"\n\n\"Do not praise the day before sunset.\"\n\n\"Oh...\" she pursed her lips slightly. \"Is that so?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is.\"\n\n\"What is it, Emhyr?\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" he said. \"In ten days we resume the offensive in the North. It promises to be a difficult, very difficult war. Vattier de Rideaux reveals new conspiracies and plots directed against me. The reasons of state my force many different things.\"\n\n\"This girl is not guilty of anything.\"\n\n\"I said: reasons of state. Reasons of state have nothing to do with justice. At the end of the day...\"\n\nHe waved a hand.\n\n\"I want to talk to her. Alone. Come on, Princess. Faster. Closer. The Emperor commands.\"\n\nThe girl curtsied deeply. Emhyr measured her with his eyes, looking back to that fateful audience in Loc Grim. He was full of praise, nay, even admiration for Stella Congreve, who, within the six months that had elapsed since then, had managed to transform a clumsy ugly duckling into a young aristocrat.\n\n\"Leave us,\" he said. \"Take a break, Master Robin, say, to clean your brushes. You, Countess, please wait in the anteroom. And you, Princess, follow me to the terrace.\"\n\nThe wet snow that had fallen during the night had melted in the early morning sun, but the rooftops and towers of the caste Darn Rowan were still wet and blazing in the sun like fire.\n\nEmhyr approached the balustrade. The girl, according to court etiquette kept one step behind him. With an impatient gesture, he beckoned her to come closer.\n\nThe Emperor was silent fora longtime, he leaned with both hands on the railing, staring out at the hills and the evergreen yews that grew on them. Clearly distinguishable from the white rocky limestone recesses. Below them the river gleamed lick a silver river winding through the gorge." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The wind brought the scent of spring.\n\n\"I seldom come here,\" Emhyr said. The girl remained silent.\n\n\"I seldom come here,\" he repeated, turning away. \"It is a beautiful and peaceful place. Beautiful surroundings... Do you agree?\"\n\n\"Yes... Imperial Majesty.\"\n\n\"You can smell spring in the air. Have you noticed?\"\n\n\"Yes, Imperial Majesty.\"\n\nFrom the lower courtyard they heard a noisy clatter disturbed by singing and the ringing of horseshoes. The escort, which had already received the order to depart, were in a hurry to get ready to leave. Emhyr remembered that among the guards was one who sang. Often regardless of the circumstances.\n\nLook down on me regretfully\n\nEyes of azure\n\nAnd give me graciously\n\nYour charms\n\nRemember me regretfully\n\nIn the dark night-time\n\nDo not deny me graciously\n\nThe desire that dwells within you\n\n\"A beautiful ballad,\" he said thoughtfully, passing his fingers over his heavy gold, imperial chain.\n\n\"Beautiful. Imperial Majesty.\"\n\nVattier assures me that he is already on Vilgefortz's trail. That locating him will be a matter of days, weeks at most. The heads of traitors will fall and the true Ciri, Princess of Cintra will be delivered to Nilfgaard.\n\nAnd before the genuine Cirilla, Princess of Cintra comes to Nilfgaard, I will have to do something with the double.\n\n\"Lift up your head.\"\n\nShe obeyed.\n\n\"Do you have any wishes?\" he asked sternly. \"Requests? Complaints?\"\n\n\"No, Imperial Majesty, I do not.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Really?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That's interesting. No, but then I cannot command that you had. Raise your head, as befits a princess. Stella taught you courtly manners? '\n\n\"Yes, Imperial Majesty.\"\n\nIn fact, he thought, they trained her really well. Rience first and then Stella. They taught her the role– certainly under threat of torture and death. They warned her that the part that she would have to play before a ruthless and unforgiving audience. Before the terrible Emhyr var Emreis, Emperor of Nilfgaard.\n\n\"What is your name?\" he asked sharply.\n\n\"Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon.\"\n\n\"Your real name.\"\n\n\"Cirilla Fiona...\"\n\n\"Do not try my patience. Name!\"\n\n\"Cirilla...\" the girl's voice broke like a reed stalk.\"Fiona... '\n\n\"Enough, by the Great Sun,\" he said through clenched teeth, \"Enough!\"\n\nIna breach of etiquette, she sniffed loudly. Her lips trembled but etiquette did not forbid it.\n\n\"Calm down,\" he ordered, albeit in a low voice, almost soft. \"What do you fear? Are you ashamed of your own name? Are you afraid to tell me? Does it raise unpleasant memories? I only ask because I would like to address you by your real name. But I must know what it is.\"\n\n\"It's nothing, \"she said, her big eyes suddenly sparkled like emerald in the glow of candles.\"Because it is a bland name, Imperial Majesty. A person who wears it is a nobody. As long as I'm Cirilla Fiona, I mean something... As long as...\"\n\nHer voice stuck in her throat so rapidly that she instinctively raised her hands to her neck, as if what she had on was not a necklace, but a choking garrotte. Emhyr continued to measure her with his eyes, still full of praise for Stella Congreve. At the same time he also felt anger. Unfounded anger and therefore even more terrible." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What I do want from this child, he thought, feeling the anger rising in him, as it boiled and seethed like soup in a cauldron. What I do want with this child whose...\n\n\"Know that I had nothing to do with your kidnapping girl,\" he said sharply. \"I had nothing to do with your kidnapping. I gave no such orders. I was fooled...\"\n\nHe was angry with himself, aware that he was making a mistake. He should have ended this conversation long ago, ended it with grace, with power, menacing, like an emperor. It was necessary to forget about this girl with the green eyes. The girl did not exist. She was a double. An imitation. She did not even have a name. She was nobody. The emperor does not ask for forgiveness, does not apologize to someone who...\n\n\"Forgive me,\" he said, the words sounded strange, unpleasantly sticking to his lips. \"I made a mistake. Yes, it's true, I am guilty of what happened to you. Guilty. But I give you my word that you will come to no danger, no injustice, no harm, no threat. Do not be afraid. '\n\n\"I'm not afraid, ' she lifted her head and etiquette notwithstanding meet his gaze. Emhyr flinched, struck by the honesty and trust in her eyes. He immediately straightened, the proud and noble emperor once more.\n\n\"Ask of me what you want.\"\n\nShe looked at him again, and he involuntarily recalled countless time when he had bought in this way the peace of mind for the damage of his meanness. He secretly enjoyed selfishly paying the off so cheaply.\n\n\"Ask of me what you want,\" he repeated and by the fact that he was tired, his voice became a little more human. \"I will fulfill your every wish.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Do not look at me, he thought. I cannot bear that look. People are apparently afraid to look at me. What do I have to fear?\n\nFuck Vattier and his reasons of state. If she asks for it, I'll take her home to where she was abducted. Perhaps in a golden coach with six horses. She simply has to ask.\n\n\"Ask of me what you want,\" he repeated.\n\n\"I thank you, Imperial Majesty,\" said the girl, lowering her eyes. \"His Imperial Majesty is very noble and generous. If I could ask for anything...\"\n\n\"Speak.\"\n\n\"I want to stay here. Here at Darn Rowan. At the home of Lady Stella.\"\n\nHe was not surprised. He sensed something.\n\nTact prevented him from asking the questions that would be humiliating to them both.\n\n\"I gave my word,\" he said coldly. \"My will be done.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Your Majesty.\"\n\n\"I gave my word,\" he repeated, \"and I will honor it. However, I think you chose wrong. You did not choose that which you desire. If you change your mind...\"\n\n\"I will not change,\" she said when it was clear that the emperor was not going to finish. \"Why would I change my mind? I have chosen Lady Stella, I have chosen things that I have experienced in my life so little... A house, warmth, kindness... Love. You cannot make a mistake when choosing something like that.\"\n\nPoor, naive, little thing, thought Emhyr var Emreis, Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd– The White Flame Dancing on the Barrows of his Enemies. It is such desires that are filled with the most terrible mistakes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But something– perhaps long-forgotten memories, prevent the Emperor from saying it out loud.\n\n\"Interesting,\" Nimue said, when she heard the story. Avery interesting dream. Were there any others? '\n\n\"Bah!\" Condwiramurs cut the top off of the boiled egg with a knife. \"My head is still spinning after that parade! But this is normal. The first night in anew place always produces chaotic dreams. Do you know, Nimue for us, it is claimed that our talent lies in the fact that we have dreamlike visions. We do not use hypnosis or a trance; our visions are no different from other people's dreams, in intensity, or abundance or content. Unlike us, and this is what our talent determines. We remember our dreams. Rarely do we forget what we dream of. '\n\n\"Because you have atypical and typical activities in your endocrine glands,\" said the Lade of the Lake. \"Your dreams are, and I'm trivializing a bit, nothing more than a body dedicated to endorphins. Like most innate magical talents, yours is also prosaically organic in origin. But why am I explaining something that you yourself already know. Do you remember anymore dreams? '\n\n\"A young boy,\" Condwiramurs frowned, \"travelling with a pouch over his shoulder through fields. It is early spring, the fields are empty. Willows... along the edges of the road. Willows bent, hollow and deformed... and bare, yet still with leaves. The boy walks and looks around. It is dark. In the sky there are stars. One of them is moving. It is a comet. A reddish, flickering spark, diagonally crossing the sky...\"\n\n\"Good,\" Nimue rejoiced. \"While I have no idea about who you were dreaming of, I can pinpoint the date. The Red Comet was visible for only six days in the spring of the year of the Peace of Cintra. More specifically, in the first days of March. In other dreams do you experience timestamps?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My dreams,\" Condwiramurs snorted, taking solace in her egg, \"are not an agricultural calendar. They do not have dated subtitles. But for the record, I also dreamed of the Battle of Brenna, probably because I looked fora time at the canvas by Nicholas Certosy in your gallery. And the date for the Battle of Brenna is also known. It was also in the same year as the comet, unless I am mistaken.\"\n\n\"No, you are not wrong. Was there something special about the dream of the battle?\"\n\n\"No. A chaos of horses, people and weapons. People screamed and killed. Someone, surely a madman, shrieked– \"The Eagles! The Eagles!\"\"\n\n\"What else? You said that there was a whole parade of dreams.\"\n\n\"I do not remember...\" Condwiramurs paused.\n\nNimue smiled.\n\n\"Well,\" the adept said, wincing hard, preventing the Lady of the Lake from delivering any mocking comments. \"Yes, sometimes I forget. Nobody is perfect. I repeat, My dreams are visions, not some organized shelves in a library...\"\n\n\"I know,\" Nimue said. \"We are not doing this to test your abilities as a dreamer, we are analyzing the legend. The riddles and blank spaces. It goes pretty well for us, as in the first dream you've discovered who was the girl in the portrait, The double of Ciri who Vilgefortz attempted to deceive Emperor Emhyr... '\n\nShe stopped because into the kitchen came the Fisher King. He bowed, muttered and pulled out a loaf of bread, a bottle and a package wrapped in cloth from the cupboard. Then he turned to leave, not forgetting to bow and grunt.\n\n\"He is lame,\" Nimue said with ill-concealed sympathy. \"He was seriously wounded in a hunt with a wild boar which gored his leg. That's why he spends so much time on the boat. With the oars and fishing he forgets about his injures. He is a very decent and good man. And I... '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Condwiramurs remained politely silent.\n\n\"I need a man,\" said the little sorceress impartially.\n\nI also, thought the adept. The devil, as soon as I return to the Academy, I'll let someone seduce me. Celibacy is food, but not for longer than one semester.\n\nNimue snorted.\n\n\"If you've finished eating and dreaming, let's go to the library.\"\n\n\"Let's get back to your dream. '\n\nNimue opened a folder, she turned and took out several sheets of sepia wash drawings. Condwiramurs immediately recognized the captured scene.\n\n\"The audience at Loc Grim?\"\n\n\"Of course. The double is present in the imperial palace. Emhyr pretending that he has been deceived and putting a good face on things. Here, look, the ambassadors of the Northern Kingdoms, for who his performance is played. And here we seethe Nilfgaardian dukes. They feel humiliated, the emperor has rejected their noble daughters and so despised their offers of alliances. They stand aside, whispering, planning revenge, conspiracy, murder. The double stands before the throne with her head bowed. The artist has done this to emphasize her mystique, even her features are hidden under the veil on her face. This is basically everything we know about the false Ciri. No version of the legend mentions what happened to her later.\"\n\n\"It's not hard to imagine, \"Condwiramurs said sadly,\"that fate was not kind to the girl. When Emhyr got the original, and we all know that he acquired her, he got rid of the forgery. In the dream I sensed no tragedy, and in principle I should have felt something if... On the other hand, what I see in dreams is not necessarily the real truth. As with any person, my dreams reflect my desire, longing... And fears. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I know.\"\n\nThe discussed until lunchtime, looking through folders and bundles of prints. The fishing must have been good to the Fisher King because the lunch was grilled salmon. For dinner, too.\n\nThat night, Condwiramurs slept poorly. She had eaten too much.\n\nShe did not dream of anything. She was a little angry and embarrassed by it, but Nimue showed no concern.\n\n\"We have time,\" she said. \"Before us are many more nights.\"\n\n---\n\nThe tower of Inis Vitre had several bathrooms, truly luxurious, plush, lined with marble and gleaming with brass, it was heated by pipes whose furnace was located somewhere in the basement. Condwiramurs could laze in the bath for hours, but today she met Nimue in the\n\nsauna, a small log cabin with a landing that went out into the lake. They sat together on a bench in the steam rising from red-hot stones washed down with water, flicking themselves with birch brushes. Salty sweat ran down into their eyes.\n\n\"If I understand correctly,\" Condwiramurs wiped her face, \"the end result of my experience on Inis Vitre should be to answer all the riddles and blank spaces in the legend of the Sorceress and the Witcher?\"\n\n\"You are correct.\"\n\n\"By day, by examining images and discussions, it should prepare me for the night, when I have the power to dream, about that event that is now completely forgotten and what really happened?\"\n\nThis time Nimue did not consider it necessary to confirm this. She got up and poured water from a bucket onto the stones. The hot steam took their breath away fora moment. The rest of the bucket of water, Nimue poured on herself. Condwiramurs admired her figure. Thought tiny, the sorceress was built extraordinarily proportionately. The body and supple skin of the sorceress could envy many a young girl. Condwiramurs was only twenty-four and she envied her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"But even if I dream of something,\" she continued, wiping her sweaty face again, \"how can I be sure that what I dreamed was the true version?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I certainly do not know...\"\n\n\"Let's halt this discussion fora while, \"cutoff Nimue.\"We go out. I'm already tired of sitting in this slow cooker. Let's refresh. And then we'll talk.\"\n\nAs it was part of the ritual. They ran out of the sauna, their bare feet pattering on the boards of the landing and with aloud cry jumped into the cold water. Once they had dipped, they swam to the landing and wrung out their hair.\n\nThe Fisher King, alarmed by the splashing and yelling, looked back from his boat, he shaded his eyes with his hand, then immediately turned around and devoted himself to his fishing tackle. Condwiramurs considered this behavior offensive and reprehensible. Her opinion of the Fisher King had greatly increased when she noticed the time that he did not spend fishing he spent reading. He walked with a book, even to the bathroom, and it was nothing less than Speculum Aureum, a work both profound and intellectually challenging. So if it was true that in her early days on Inis Vitre, Condwiramurs was somewhat astonished by the inclinations of Nimue, they had now stopped. It was clear that the Fisher King was an uncouth lout only in appearance. Apparently, such behavior was considered a secure mask.\n\nNevertheless, thought Condwiramurs, it is an unforgivable insult and an affront turning towards this rods and bait when there were two women parading naked, with bodies worthy of nymphs, from which the eyes should not be able to breakaway.\n\n\"If I dream something,\" she returned to the subject at hand as she wiped her breasts with a towel, \"what guarantee do we have that it is the true version? I know all the literary versions of the legend, from Dandelion's Half a Century of Poetry, to Andre Ravix's Lady of the Lake. I know all of Reverend Jarre's, various scientific treatises on the popular editions that I will not even mention. All of these readings have left a trace, had an effect, I am notable to eliminate this from my dreams. Is there a chance to breakthrough the fiction to dream the truth? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There is.\"\n\n\"How high?\"\n\n\"The same as,\" Nimue nodded towards the boat on the lake, \"which the Fisher King has. You see how he tirelessly checks his hooks. They anchor weeds, roots, submerged stumps, trunks, old shoes and the drowned devil knows what else. But from time to time he catches something.\"\n\n\"So happy fishing then,\" Condwiramurs sighed and began to dress. 'Let us set the bait and start fishing. Look for the real version of the legend inside the upholstery and lining of an old\n\ntrunk and hope to find a false bottom. And what if there is no false bottom? With all due respect, Nimue, but we are not the first in this fishery. What are the chances that some details escaped the attention of historians and the researchers who fished in front of us? Do we even have a minnow left? '\n\n\"They left,\" Nimue said with conviction, combing her hair, \"Blank spaces filled with rhetoric and fabrications. Or wrapped in silence.\"\n\n\"Like what?\"\n\n\"For example, the witcher's winter stay in Toussaint. All version of the legend dispose of this episode with a short sentence: \"The heroes spent the winter in Toussaint.\" Even Dandelion, who devoted two chapters to his adventures in the Duchy, is surprising enigmatic in terms of the witcher. Is it not worth it to find out what happened this winter? After escaping from Belhaven, and meeting with the elf Avallac'h in the underground complex of Tir ná Bea Arainne? After the skirmish in Caed Myrkvid and the adventure of the Druids? What did the witcher do in Toussaint from October through to January?\"\n\n\"What did he do? Hibernated!\" snorted the adept. \"Before the spring thaw, he would not be able to cross the mountain passes, and so he spent the winter bored. It is not surprising that later writers relieved piece of boredom with a terse: \"Winter passed by.\" But if you need, I'll try to dream something. Do we have a picture or a drawing? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nimue smiled.\n\n\"We have lots of pictures.\"\n\nThe rock painting represented a hunting scene. Lean casual strokes depicted little men carrying bows and spears hunting a large buffalo. The buffalo was purple, striped like a tiger and above its curved horns hung something that resembled a dragonfly.\n\n\"This,\" Regis said nodding his head, \"is the work of the elf Avallac'h. The elf that knew much. '\n\n\"Yes,\" Geralt confirmed dryly. \"This is his painting.\"\n\n\"The problem is that we have thoroughly explored the caves and there is no trace of either elves or any other creatures you mentioned.\"\n\n\"They were here. Now they are hiding. Or gone.\"\n\n\"This is an indisputable fact. Do not forget, you were only awarded the audience through the intercession of the flaminica. Apparently it was concluded that one hearing was enough. After the flaminica categorically refused to cooperate, I really do not know what else you can do. We have been wandering around these caves all day. I'm afraid there is no point'\n\n\"Me, too,\" said the witcher bitterly. \"I cannot resist such an impression. I've never understood the elves. But at least now I know why most human have no sympathy for elves. Because it is hard to shake the feeling that they are mocking us. In everything that they do, what they say, what they think, elves make a mockery of us and scoff. '\n\n\"The anthropomorphism is speaking through you.\"\n\n\"Maybe a little. But the impression remains.\"\n\n\"What do we do?\"\n\n\"Return to Caed Myrkvid, to see Cahir, who no doubt has had his scalp wound healed by the Druids. Then we get on the horses and take full advantage of the invitation of Countess Anna Henrietta. Do not look at me like that vampire, Milva has broken ribs, Cahir a broken head, and rest in Toussaint will benefit both of them. And we will also have to remove Dandelion from the mess he has gotten into, because I fear he has gotten into a good one.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well,\" sighed Regis. \"Have it your way. I'll have to avoid mirrors and dogs and will have to beware of sorcerers and telepaths... And if I'm still exposed, I'm counting on you. '\n\n\"You can count on me,\" Geralt said seriously. \"I'm not in the habit of leaving a friend in need. '\n\nThe vampire smile and because they were alone, he did not hid his fangs.\n\n\"Friend?\"\n\n\"The anthropomorphism speaks through my mouth. Come on, let's get out of this cave, my friend. Because here we will find only rheumatism. '\n\n\"Probably. Unless... Geralt? From what you saw, the Elven necropolis of Tir ná Bea Arainne is behind this wall. We could get there if... you know. If we broke through. Have you thought about this?\"\n\n\"No. I had not thought of it.\"\n\nThe Fisher King had again prospered because there was lake trout for dinner again. The fish was so delicious that the lesson went out the window. Again Condwiramurs ate too much.\n\nCondwiramurs belched. It is time to sleep, she though, when she caught herself for the second time mechanically turning the pages of a book without perceiving the content. It is time to dream.\n\nShe yawned and put down her book. She rearranged the pillows from a reading position to resting. With a spell she putout the lamp. The chamber was immediately plunged into darkness as thick as molasses. The heavy velour curtains were fully drawn, as the adept discovered, it is best to dream in total darkness. What to choose? She thought, stretching between the sheets. Go with the current and dream or try and anchor?" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Support the writer, proceed with the storyline.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 3" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well,\" sighed Regis. \"Have it your way. I'll have to avoid mirrors and dogs and will have to beware of sorcerers and telepaths... And if I'm still exposed, I'm counting on you. '\n\n\"You can count on me,\" Geralt said seriously. \"I'm not in the habit of leaving a friend in need. '\n\nThe vampire smile and because they were alone, he did not hid his fangs.\n\n\"Friend?\"\n\n\"The anthropomorphism speaks through my mouth. Come on, let's get out of this cave, my friend. Because here we will find only rheumatism. '\n\n\"Probably. Unless... Geralt? From what you saw, the Elven necropolis of Tir ná Bea Arainne is behind this wall. We could get there if... you know. If we broke through. Have you thought about this?\"\n\n\"No. I had not thought of it.\"\n\nThe Fisher King had again prospered because there was lake trout for dinner again. The fish was so delicious that the lesson went out the window. Again Condwiramurs ate too much.\n\nCondwiramurs belched. It is time to sleep, she though, when she caught herself for the second time mechanically turning the pages of a book without perceiving the content. It is time to dream.\n\nShe yawned and put down her book. She rearranged the pillows from a reading position to resting. With a spell she putout the lamp. The chamber was immediately plunged into darkness as thick as molasses. The heavy velour curtains were fully drawn, as the adept discovered, it is best to dream in total darkness. What to choose? She thought, stretching between the sheets. Go with the current and dream or try and anchor?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Despite their proud statements, Dreamers did not remember half of their prophetic dreams, a significant portion of them remained in the minds of the oneiromancers as gibberish images, changing colors and shapes like a kaleidoscope-a child's toy with mirrors and glass. If the dreamlike visions were stripped of all pretence of order and meaning, then they could safely ignore them. According to the rules: \"If I do not remember it, it means, it was not worth remembering\". In the jargon of the dreamers these dreams are called'lemons\".\n\nWorse and a somewhat embarrassing affair are'ghost\" dreams, from which the dreamer only remembers fragments, and very short snippets of events, after which the next morning is left only a vague feeling of a messaged received. If the'ghost\" is repeated several times, it is certain that it is a dream which is important for some reason. Then the dreamer, through concentration and autosuggestion tries to force the dream again, this time a more specific'ghost\". The best result are to force oneself to dream again immediately after waking up– called'hooking\". If the dream does not produce a'hook\" they try and produce a vision during one of the following session by concentration and meditation prior to going to sleep. Such pressure programming is called'anchoring\".\n\nAfter twelve nights on the island, Condwiramurs already had three lists of dreams. There was a list worthy of pride, a list of'ghosts\" that she had'hooked\" or'anchored\" successfully. Among them there was the dream of the rebellion on the Island of Thanedd and the journey of the witcher and his companions in a blizzard in the pass of Malheur, and the spring downpours softening the roads in the Sudoth valley. There was also a list that Nimue had recognized as a list of failures, dreams that despite all their efforts remained an enigma. And there was also a working list, a list of dreams waiting their turn." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And there was a dream, strange but very nice that was coming back in bits and pieces in elusive sounds and silky touches.\n\nA nice, pleasant dream.\n\nWell, thought Condwiramurs, closing her eyes. Let it be.\n\n\"I think I know what the witcher did during the winter in Toussaint.\"\n\n\"Well, well,\" Nimue looked over the edge of the leather-bound grimoire that she was reading. \"So you finally dreamed something?\"\n\n\"Of course\" Condwiramurs said boastfully, \"I dreamed! Of the Witcher Geralt and a woman with short, black hair and green eyes. I do not know who it could be. Maybe this Countess, Dandelion writes about in his memoirs?\"\n\n\"You must not have read carefully,\" the sorceress said somewhat coolly. \"Dandelion described Countess Anarietta in detail and all sources confirm that her hair was, quote'Chestnut colored and truly shining like a halo of gold.\"\"\n\n\"So it was not her,\" admitted the adept. \"My woman had black hair. Like coal. And the dream was... hummm... interesting.\"\n\n\"I'm eagerly listening. '\n\n\"They were talking together. But it was not an ordinary conversation.\"\n\n\"What was so strange?\"\n\n\"Most of the time her legs whereon his shoulders.\"\n\n\"Tell me, Geralt, do you believe in love at first sight?\"\n\n\"Do you?\"\n\n\"I believe.\"\n\n\"Now I know why we are together. Opposites attract.\"\n\n\"Do not be cynical.\"\n\n\"Why? Cynicism reportedly shows intelligence.\"\n\n\"That's not true. Cynicism, for all its aura of pseudo intelligence is disgustingly hypocritical and insincere. While we're at it... Tell me, witcher, what do you most love about me?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"This.\"\n\n\"You go from cynicism to triviality and banality. Try again.\"\n\n\"What I most love about you is your reason, your intelligence and inner depth, your independence and freedom, your...\"\n\n\"I do not understand where you get so much sarcasm.\"\n\n\"It was not sarcasm, it was a joke.\"\n\n\"I cannot stand such jokes. Especially at the wrong time. Everything, my dear, has its time, and under the sky all are assigned their time. There is a time to be silent and a time to talk, a time to weep and a time to laugh, time to sow and a time to pick, sorry, collect, a time for jokes and a time for seriousness...\"\n\n\"A time to touch and a time to refrain?\"\n\n\"Oh, do not take it so seriously! Assume instead that it is a time for compliments. Loving without the compliments becomes just mindless activities to satisfy physical needs. Tell me, compliments!\"\n\n\"From the Buina to the Yaruga, there is no one with such a beautiful ass as yours.\"\n\n\"Now you go and compare me to barbaric rivers from the north that I do not know. Leaving aside the quality of your metaphor, could you have not said from the Velda to the Alba? Or from the Alba to Sansretour?\"\n\n\"I've never been to the Alba. I try to avoid forms of flirting that I cannot backup with factual experience. '\n\n\"Oh, really? So I guess that you have seen and experienced so many asses, that you are able to judge? What, white-haired one? How many women have you had before me? Well? I asked you a question, witcher! Put away those hand, you will not escape having to answer. How many women did you have before me?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"None. You're the first. '\n\n\"Finally!\"\n\nNimue had already spent along time contemplating a picture that appeared in a subtle chiaroscuro often women sitting around a table.\n\n\"Too bad we do not know that they really looked like.\" She said at last.\n\n\"The great teachers?\" Condwiramurs snorted. \"there are dozens of portraits! Only in Aretuza itself...\"\n\n\"I said: really.\" Interrupted Nimue. \"I did not mean embellished imaginations based on other embellished imaginations. Do not forget, there was a time of destruction of the images of sorceresses. And the same of sorceresses. Then came the era of propaganda, the teachers had to buildup the appearance of respect, admiration and reverent fear. Then from the reunion of the Lodge came oaths and convents, pictures and paintings recording those present at the table were often wonderful and alluring women. But there are no authentic portraits. Except for two. The portrait of Margarita Laux-Antille which hangs in Aretuza, on the island of Thanedd and was by a miracle saved from fire. And a picture of Síle de Tansarville in Ensenada in the palace of Lan Exeter.\"\n\n\"And what of Francesca Findabair's image by an unknown elvish painter, hanging in the gallery in Vengerberg? '\n\n\"A fake. When the Gate opened and the elves left, they took with them or destroyed all their works of art and left not a single image. We do not know if the Daisy of the Valley was really as beautiful as they say. We do not know the appearance of Ida Emean. And the images of the Sorceress of Nilfgaard were destroyed thoroughly and systematically, we have no idea of the true appearance of Assire car Anahid or Fringilla Vigo.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Let us assume,\" sighed Condwiramurs, \"that they looked as they were later portrayed. Dignified, noble, good, wise, honest and generous. And beautiful, dazzlingly beautiful... Let us assume that. Then it is somehow easier to live.\"\n\nThe daily tasks on Inis Vitre gradually fell into a dull routine. The analyst of dreams started after breakfast and usually lasted until noon. Before lunch, Condwiramurs went fora walk, but walks soon became boring. No wonder, in an hour it was possible to circle the island twice and look at things as interesting as rocks, dwarf pines, sand, clams and seagulls.\n\nAfter lunch and along nap, they began discussions, reviewing books, scrolls and manuscripts, viewing pictures, images and maps. And long, protracted disputes in the night on the relationship between legend and truth.\n\nAnd then at night came the dreams. Different dreams. Celibacy began to be noticed. Instead of dreams of the enigma of the legend of the witcher, Condwiramurs dreamed of the\n\nFisher King in a variety of situations from the non-erotic to the extremely erotic. In the extremely non-erotic dreams the Fisher King dragged her behind the boat tied to a rope. He rowed slowly and lazily, so she sank into the lake, swallowing water and she felt a terrible fear, because she felt something rising from the bottom, something huge and hungry, something that wanted to swallow the bait, which she was. When it seemed the something was about to catch her, the Fisher King pulled powerfully on the oars, the rope tighten and she was pulled away from the jaws of the unseen predator. She felt like she couldn't breathe, then she awoke.\n\nIn her undoubtedly erotic dreams she was kneeling on the rickety boat, clinging to the rail and the Fisher King held her around the neck from behind as he fucked her enthusiastically, grunting, spitting and growling the whole time. Apart from the physical pleasure, Condwiramurs felt an apprehension that chilled her bowels: what if Nimue caught them? Suddenly in the water of the lake she saw the wobbling, threatening face of the little sorceress... she woke up, drenched in sweat." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She got up, opened the window and felt the cool night air, and saw the moonlight falling on the mist from the lake.\n\nAnd then she dreamed on.\n\nThe tower of Inis Vitre had a balcony that overlooked the lake. At first Condwiramurs paid it no attention, but overtime she had reason to ponder. The balcony was special because it was inaccessible. It was impossible to get to it from any room she knew.\n\nAware that the home of the sorceress cannot go with such a secret anomaly, Condwiramurs did not ask questions. Even when taking a stroll around the lake she saw Nimue watching. Apparently in was only inaccessible to those unauthorized and uninvited. She was a little angry because it was considered rude but pretended that she did not see anything.\n\nBut it did not take long to before the mystery was solved.\n\nIt was after a series of dreams, caused by Wilma Wessely's watercolors. The author was apparently fascinated by the adventures of Ciri and the Tower of the Swallow, because all of her works had been devoted to them.\n\n\"I've had weird dreams, \"she complained one morning.\" ... I dream images. Not scenes, no scenes, but pictures. Ciri and a tower... A still picture. '\n\n\"And nothing more? Nothing except the visual experience?\"\n\nNimue, of course, knew that as a capable dreamer, like Condwiramurs used all her senses, she doesn't just receive the dream through her eyes like most people, but also through hearing, touch, smell– and even taste.\n\n\"Nothing,\" said the adept. \"Just...\"\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"A thought. A stubborn thought. In this tower, I'm not a lady, but a prisoner. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Come with me.\"\n\nAs Condwiramurs had guessed, access to the balcony was only possible going through the private chambers of the sorceress. Clean rooms that were meticulously neat and fragrant smelling of sandalwood, myrrh, lavender and mothballs. It was necessary to use a small secret door and a spiral staircase leading down.\n\nThen they came to where they had to go.\n\nThe chamber, in contrast to the other rooms, did not have wood paneling on the walls, or tapestries, it was only whitewashed so it was very light. Even more clear light, because there\n\nwas a huge triple window, or rather a glass door, which led directly to the balcony overhanging the lake.\n\nThe only furniture in the room were two chairs, a huge oval framed mirror and a sort of mahogany stand with a horizontal framework where a tapestry had been hung. The tapestry measured about five feet seven and reached its fringes to the floor.\n\nThe tapestry showed a rocky bluff overlooking a mountain lake. A castle was embedded in the cliff that seemed to be part of the stonewall. Condwiramurs knew the castle well, she had seen it in many illustrations.\n\n\"Vilgefortz's citadel, where he imprisoned Yennefer. Where the legend ended. '\n\n\"Yes,\" Nimue said, apparently indifferent. \"That is where the legend ended, at least in the traditional versions. We know these versions, so it seems to up that this is the ending. Ciri escaped from the Tower of the Swallow, were, as you dreamed, she was being held as a prisoner. When she realized what they wanted to do, she ran away. The legend give many versions of this escape...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I,\" interrupted the adept, \"liked the best version, we the objects are thrown behind her. A comb, and apple and a handkerchief. But...\"\n\n\"Condwiramurs.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry. '\n\n\"As I said, there are many versions of the flight. But it still remains unclear how Ciri went directly from the Tower to the Swallow to Vilgefortz's castle. If you cannot dream of the Tower of the Swallow, then try and dream of the castle. Look carefully at the tapestry... Are you listening? '\n\n\"This mirror... It's magic, right? '\n\n\"No. I squeeze pimples in front of it.\"\n\n\"Sorry.\"\n\n\"It is a mirror of Hartmann,\" Nimue said, seeing the adept's wrinkled nose and angry gesture.\"You may want to look. But be careful, please. '\n\n\"Is it true,\" Condwiramurs asked, her voice trembling with excitement, \"that with a mirror of Hartmann you can move to others...\"\n\n\"Worlds?\" It is. But not immediately, not without long preparation, exercise, mediation and many other things. When I urged caution, I was thinking of something else. '\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"The mirror of Hartmann works in both directions. It is always possible someone or something may come out.\"\n\n\"Do you know, Nimue... When I look at the tapestry...\"\n\n\"Did you dream last night?\"\n\n\"I dreamed. But strangely. A bird's eye view. I was a bird... I saw the castle from outside. I could not get inside, something was guarding the entrance. '\n\n\"Look at the tapestry,\" Nimue ordered. \"Look at the citadel. Look carefully, focus your attention to every detail. Concentrate hard, record this image in your memory. I want you, if you can get therein the dream, to go inside. It is important that you enter.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Outside, beyond the castle walls, raged a blizzard but inside, fuelled by thick logs afire blazed. Yennefer reveled in the warmth. Her current cell was indeed better than the wet cell, in which she had spent the last two months, but even so, her teeth chattered with the cold.\n\nWhile imprisoned she had lost track of time, they were in no hurry to inform her of the date, but she was certain it was winter, in December, maybe January.\n\n\"Eat, Yennefer,\" Vilgefortz said. \"Do not hesitate.\"\n\nThe sorceress did not allow for embarrassment or accident. She ate slowly only because her barely healed fingers were stiff and awkward and it was difficult to hold the cutlery. And she would not eat with her hands, she was eager to show her superiority to Vilgefortz and the rest of the guests of the sorcerer. She knew none of them.\n\n\"It is with great regret I must inform you,\" said Vilgefortz, his fingers caressing the stem of his cup, \"that Ciri, your ward, has departed from this world. You can only blame yourself, Yennefer. And your foolish stubbornness.\"\n\nOne of the guests, a short man with dark hair, sneezed loudly, wiping snot on a cambric handkerchief. His nose was red, swollen and undeniably congested.\n\n\"To your health,\" Yennefer said, not upset at all by Vilgefortz angry words. \"How did you come by such a terrible cold, noble sir? Did you stand in a draft after a bath?\"\n\nAnother guest, an older, taller, thin man, with unnaturally pale eyes, laughed. The man with the cold, though his face flushed with anger, thanked the sorceress with a short bow and a short, nasal response. It was not short enough to hide the Nilfgaardian accent." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Vilgefortz turned to face her. He no longer wore on his head the golden structure or the glass lens over his eye socket, but it looked even worse than in the summer, when she saw him maimed for the first time. The left eyeball had regenerated sufficiently, but was much smaller than the right. The appearance was breath-taking.\n\n\"You, Yennefer,\" he drawled, \"probably think I'm lying to deceive you. Why would I? The report of the girl's death has crushed me like you, if not more. After all I had far-reaching plans for her, which would decide about my future. Ciri is dead and now my plans have collapsed.\"\n\n\"Good,\" Yennefer, barely keeping the knife in your fingers, clumsily cut into her second course of stuffed pork chop.\n\n\"On the contrary,\" continued the sorcerer, \"to you Ciri was only a silly sentiment, consisting of equal parts of the penalty of your infertility and your guilt. Yes, yes, Yennefer, a sentiment of guilt! After you had actively participated in genetic experiments, by which Ciri came into the world. Incidentally the experiment failed because the experimenters lacked knowledge.\"\n\nYennefer saluted him in silence, praying that the cup would not slip from her fingers. She slowly came to the conclusion that at least two of them would be stiff fora longtime. Maybe permanently.\n\nVilgefortz snorted at her gesture.\n\n\"It's too late, \"he said through gritted teeth,\"you have to know, Yennefer, I have enough knowledge. And if I had this girl, I would use this knowledge. In fact, you have nothing to regret, even though you are dry and barren as a desert, I wanted to strengthen the weak maternal instinct and give you not only a daughter, but even a grandchild. Or at least an ersatz grandchild." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yennefer snorted dismissively, although inside she was boiling with rage.\n\n\"I'm sorry to spoil your good humor, my dear, \"said the wizard coldly.\"Because I have the sad news that the witcher, Geralt of Rivia is also dead. Yes, Yes, the same witcher Geralt, with whom, as with Ciri, you associated your surrogate feelings, foolish, embarrassing and nauseating to the stomach. Know Yennefer that our dear friend, the witcher, said goodbye to the world in a truly fiery spectacular. On this occasion, you should not have any remorse. For the witcher's death, you are not guilty to even the smallest degree. All the credit belongs tome. Taste the candied pears, they are really delicious.\"\n\nYennefer's violet eyes blazed with hatred.\n\nVilgefortz laughed.\n\n\"Such is your will,\" he said, \"Indeed, if not for your dimeritium bracelets, your eyes would have burned me to ashes. But since the dimeritium is working, you cannot burn me, only look.\"\n\nThe man with the cold, sneezed, blew his nose and coughed until there were tears in his eyes. The tall man looked at her with his unpleasant fish eyes.\n\n\"And where is Mister Rience?\" Yennefer asked, emphasizing the words. \"Mister Rience, who has promised to do so much tome. And where is Mister Schirrú, who never failed to hit or kick me? And why does my guard, who until recently, were violent and vulgar brutes, started to behave in timid reverence? No, do not answer, Vilgefortz. I think I know. What you told me is a lie. You have lost Ciri and Geralt escaped, while organizing a bloodbath for your minions. Now what? Your plans have collapsed, turned to dust and you yourself have recognized that your dreams of power have faded like smoke. And the sorceresses and Dijkstra draw closer and closer. It is not without reason and not out of pity that you have stopped torturing me. And Emperor Emhyr tightens his network, and this is turning out to be very, very bad. Ess a tearth, me tiarn? A'pleine a cales, ellea? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I understand elder speech,\" said the Nilfgaardian with the cold." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And my name is Stefan Skellen. And I do not have full pants. Rather, I believe I am in a considerably better situation that you, Lady Yennefer.\"\n\nAfter the speech he took a breath, coughed again and blew his nose into his soaked handkerchief. Vilgefortz slapped the table with his opened hand.\n\n\"No more games,\" Vilgefortz said, rolling his miniature macabre eye. \"Know Yennefer that you are no longer needed by me. In fact, I should put you in a sack and drown you in the lake, but I tend to draw on such methods with the greatest distaste. Until such a time circumstances permit me or force me to another decision, you will remain isolated. But I warn you– don't cause meany problems. If you try to goon a hunger strike again, I will no longer waste time trying to feed you through a tube. I will simply let you starve. And if you try and escape, the guard's orders are clear. And now, farewell. Unless you haven't satisfied yourself... '\n\n\"No,\" Yennefer stood up and crumpled her napkin on the table. \"Maybe it was something I ate, but the company has taken away my appetite. Goodbye, gentlemen.\"\n\nStefan Skellen sneezed and coughed. The tall man with the pale eyes measured her with anger and a sinister smile. Vilgefortz looked away.\n\nAs usual, when being led from cell to cell, Yennefer tried to figure out when she was, to get some scrap of information that could help her plan her escape. And as usual, she was disappointed, the corridors down which she was led, had no windows, so there was no chance to seethe surrounding countryside, or at least the sin in order to determine the cardinal points. Telepathy was prevented by the two heavy bracelets and a hoop around her neck, all of dimeritium, which effectively blocked any attempt to use magic." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The chamber in which she was imprisoned, was as cold and bleak as a hermit's hut. Yennefer remembered, however, how happy she was when they had moved her here from the dungeon. From the basement, in whose bottom there was always a stinking pool of water, and the walls dripped with nitrate and salt. The basement where they fed her leftovers in which the rats tore the bits from her mangled fingers effortlessly.\n\nWhen, after about two months he removed the chain, took her from there and allowed her to change clothes and bathe, Yennefer was beside herself with joy. He took her to a small room where she it seemed to be the bedroom of a king and the slurry that was served, bird's nest soup, worth of an emperor's table. Then things cleared. After awhile the soup became a nasty slop, the bed a hard cot and the room a prison. A narrow cold prison, in which in just four steps you would come to the other wall.\n\nYennefer cursed, sighed and sat on the stool that was, apart from the cot, the only piece of furniture she had.\n\nHe came in so quiet that she almost didn't hear him.\n\n\"My name is Bonhart,\" he said. \"I would be nice that you remember this name, witch. That you engrave it in your memory.\"\n\n\"Go fuck yourself, pig.\"\n\n\"I am a bounty hunter,\" he growled. \"Three months ago, in September, I caught your little bastard in Ebbing– the famous Ciri, which you were talking about.\"\n\nYennefer listen carefully. September. Ebbing. Caught her. But she isn't here. Maybe he is lying?\n\n\"The grey-haired witcher was trained at Kaer Morhen. I told her to fight in an arena, to kill people while people in the audience screamed. Slowly, slowly I turned her more into a beast. I taught her this role with whip, fist and boot. She learned fora longtime. But then she escaped me, the green-eyed snake.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yennefer imperceptibly sighed with relief\n\n\"She escaped into another world. But we will meet again, I'm sure of it. You know, witch, the only thing I regret is that your lover, the witcher Geralt was burned at the stake. I wanted to give him a taste of my blade, damn mutant. '\n\nYennefer snorted.\n\n\"Listen, Bonhart, or whatever your name is. Do not make me laugh. The witcher was not brought up to heel. You cannot compare with him. You can only hunt puppies. Only small dogs.\"\n\n\"Look here, witch.\"\n\nWith a sharp movement he parted his shirt and pulled out a chain with three silver medallions hanging from it. One had the shape of a cat's head, the other an eagle or a griffin. The third she did not see exactly, but she thought it was a wolf.\n\n\"Such trinkets,\" she said, feigning indifference, \"you can buy at any fair.\"\n\n\"These are not from a fair.\"\n\n\"Whatever you say.\"\n\n\"It was once so,\" hissed Bonhart, \"that good people were afraid of the witchers more than the monsters. Monsters, after all, satin the woods and caves, however, witchers had the nerve to walk the streets, enter taverns, and hover near shrines, temples, schools and playgrounds. Decent people were offended, so they started looking for someone who could bring the insolent witchers to order. They found someone. Not easily or soon, not even close. But they found someone. You see, I have killed three. Not another mutant appeared in the area to upset the honest citizens. And if he appeared, I do to him what I did to the previous ones.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Really,\" Yennefer said, \"with a crossbow from around a corner? Or by poisoning?\"\n\nBonhart put the medallions back under his shirt and took a step towards her.\n\n\"You insult me, witch.\"\n\n\"That's what I wanted. '\n\n\"Oh, really? Now I will show you, witch, that I can compete with your Witcher lover in any field and even be better than him.\"\n\nThe guards standing at the door jumped upon hearing the crash, bang, howling and whimpering from the cell. And if the guards had ever happened in their life to hear a panther caught in trap, they would have sworn that the cell held a panther.\n\nThen the guards heard from the cell a terrible roar, like a wounded lion, which they had also never heard on watch and only ever seen on their coat of arms. They looked at each other. Shook their heads and entered.\n\nYennefer satin the corner of the room, among the remains of the stool.\n\nHer hair was disheveled, her dress and shirt torn from top to bottom, her breasts rose sharply with her heavy breathing. Blood flowed from her nose, a bruise was quickly growing on her face, and there were scratches on her right arm.\n\nBonhart was sitting in the other corner of the room, among bits of stool, holding his head in both hands. He too was bleeding from his nose, the blood coloring his moustaches a deep crimson. His face was marked by bloody grooves. Yennefer's barely healed fingers were a terrible weapon, but the dimeritium bracelets had some wonderfully sharp edges.\n\nIn Bonhart's cheek, neatly along the cheekbone, embedded deeply was a fork, which Yennefer had silently stolen at dinner." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Only small dogs,\" the sorceress gasped, trying to cover her breast with the remains of her dress, \"And stay away from the dogs, you are too weak for them, bastard.\"\n\nShe could not forgive herself for not getting him where she was aiming– his eye. But the target was moving, and besides, no one is perfect.\n\nBonhart grunted, stood up, grabbed the fork and roared and reeled with pain. He swore horribly.\n\nMeanwhile, two more guards had entered the room.\n\n\"Hey, you!\" Bonhart roared, wiping blood from his face. \"Come here! Hold this whore on the floor, stretch open her legs and hold her!\"\n\nThe guards looked at each other, then at the ceiling.\n\n\"You'd better leave, sir, \"said one.\"There will be no hold or stretching here. It is not our job. '\n\n\"Besides,\" added the second in a whisper, \"we do not want to end up like Rience and Schirrú.\"\n\nCondwiramurs put down the paper which had an image of a prison cell. In the cell was a woman, sitting with her head down, shackled and chained to a stonewall.\n\n\"They imprisoned her,\" she muttered. \"while the witcher was in Toussaint with some dark haired lady.\"\n\n\"Are you condemning him?\" Nimue asked sharply. \"Without knowing practically anything?\"\n\n\"No. I'm not condemning him, but... '\n\n\"No buts about it. Be quiet, please.\"\n\nFor sometime they sat there silently and flipped through prints in a folder.\n\n\"All the versions of the legend,\" Condwiramurs identified one of the images, \"give this place as the end, the decisive clash between Good and Evil, the castle of Rhys-Rhun. All versions. Except for one.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Except for one,\" Nimue nodded. \"Apart from the little known anonymously version called The Black Book of Ellander.\"\n\n\"The Black Book states that the end of the legend took in Stygga castle.\"\n\n\"Correct. Some of the events presented in the book differ considerably from the canon.\"\n\n\"I wonder,\" the adept raised her head, \"which of the two castles is in the picture? Which castle is on your tapestry? Which image is real?\"\n\n\"We will probably never know. The castle, where the legend ends, was destroyed and there remains no trace of it, which is confirmed by all versions of the legend, including the Book of Ellander. None of the proposed locations are convincing. We do not know and will probably never learn what the castle looked like and where it stood.\"\n\n\"But the truth...\"\n\n\"The historical truth is of no importance,\" Nimue sharply interrupted. \"Remember that we do not know what Ciri really looked like. But here, in this picture drawn by Wilma Wessely, in a violent conversation with Avallac'h set against the background of macabre statues of children, is Ciri. There is no doubt. '\n\n\"But,\" Condwiramurs did not give up, \"your tapestry...\"\n\n\"Shows the castle where the legend ended.\"\n\nThere was along silence. The rustling of pictures being turned.\n\n\"I do not like,\" Condwiramurs spoke, \"the version of the legend in the Black Book. It is so... so...\"\n\n\"Frighteningly realistic,\" Nimue finished, shaking her head.\n\nCondwiramurs yawned and put down the book Half a Century of Poetry, the supplemented edition with the afterword by Professor Everett Denhoff Junior. She changed the position of the scattered cushions in the configuration for sleeping. She yawned, stretched and turned off the lamp. The chamber was drowned in darkness, brightened only by slivers of moonlight coming through the gap in the curtains. What to chose for this night, she thought, squirming between the sheets. Leave it to chance? Or try and anchor?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After a moment she decided on the latter.\n\nThere was a vague, recurring dream that she could not remember the end of, it got lost and disappeared among other dreams, like a thread that gets those among the colorful patterns in a fabric. A dream that escaped her memory, although it was stubbornly there.\n\nShe fell asleep instantly. As soon as she closed her eyes, the dream came.\n\nThere was a cloudless night sky, with a moon and stars. On the slopes of a snow-dusted hill she saw vineyards. The black angular outline of buildings with jagged walls and corner towers. There were two riders. Both entered the empty courtyard, both dismounted, both headed for the portal. However, into the dark hole, only one entered.\n\nThe one with white hair.\n\nCondwiramurs moaned in her sleep, she thrashed on the bed.\n\nThe white haired one followed stairs that went deep, deep underground. Walking down dark corridors, he pauses at regular intervals, lighting torches in their iron brackets. Shadows dance on the walls and ceiling.\n\nMore halls, stairs, another corridor. A room, a domed cellar had barrels along the walls. Rubble, a heap of bricks. Then the corridor forks. In both forks there is darkness. The white-haired one lights another torch. He pulls a sword from the sheath on his back. He hesitates, he doesn't know which for to follow. Finally he decides on the right. It is very dark and twisted, full of debris.\n\nCondwiramurs moaned in her sleep, a mortal fear seizes her. She knows that the path that the white-haired one has chosen, leads into danger. But at the same time she knows that the white-haired one is looking for danger." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Because it is his profession.\n\nThe adept stirs between the sheets, moaning. She is a dreamer, the dreamer is in a oneiromanic trance, suddenly she is able to predict what will happen in a moment.\n\nWatch out, she wants to scream but she knows that she will not be able to shout. Watch out, watch out!\n\nBe careful, witcher!\n\nThe monster attacked in the dark, from behind, silently, with malignancy. It materialized suddenly from the darkness like afire that explodes. Like a tongue of flame." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At dawn of day, when falcon shakes his wing,\n\nMainly from pleasure, and from noble usage,\n\nBlackbirds too shake theirs then as they sing,\n\nReceiving their mates, mingling their plumage,\n\nO, as the desires it lights in me now rage,\n\nI'd offer you joyously, what befits a lover.\n\nSee how Love had written this very page:\n\nEven for this end are we come together.\n\nFrancois Villon\n\nAlthough he was in a hurry and pushed himself hard and did not rest, the witcher stayed in Toussaint almost the entire winter. What were his reasons? I will not write about it. It happened and that is enough, there is no reason to go breaking my head. To those who would condemn the witcher, remember that love has many names, judge not, lest ye be judged.\n\nDandelion\n\nHalf a Century of Poetry\n\nThose were the days of good hunting and good sleeping.\n\nRudyard Kipling\n\nThe monster attacked from the darkness, from its hiding place, quietly and with premeditation. It materialized suddenly from the darkness like a fiery explosion. Like a tongue of flame.\n\nGeralt, though surprised, reacted instinctively. He dodged to the side, brushing up against the wall of the dungeon. The beast flew by and bounced from the stonewall like a ball, waved it wings and jumped again, hissing and opening its horrible beak.\n\nBut this time the witcher was prepared.\n\nHe struck with a short attack from the elbow, aiming at the throat, the red flap of the gizzards. He succeeded. He felt the blade penetrate the body. The momentum of the blow knocked the monster onto the floor near the wall. The skoffin howled with a cry that almost sounded human. It threw itself among the broken bricks, flapping its wings, spewing blood and thrashing its tail around like a whip. The witcher was sure the fight was over, but the nasty monster gave him an unpleasant surprise. It unexpectedly launched at his throat, screeching, showing its claws and snapping it beak. Geralt jumped, bouncing his shoulder against the wall and launched a blow from below, using the momentum of the bounce. He was successful. The skoffin fell once more between the bricks, its fetid blood spilled down the dungeon wall forming a fanciful pattern. The monster shook, screeched and stretched its long neck, its throat swell and shook. The blood flowed rapidly from it and disappeared among the bricks where it lay." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt could easily finish it off, but he did not want to destroy the skin. He waited calmly until the skoffin bleed to death. He moved a few steps away, undid his pants and took a piss while whistling a nostalgic tune.\n\nThe skoffin was silent and still. The witcher moved closer to it and nudged it carefully and gently with the tip of his sword. Seeing that it was over, he grabbed the monster by the tail and held it up. He held the base of the tail at the height of a human's waist; the skoffin's sharp beak reached the ground. Its wingspan was just over four feet.\n\n\"You're not particularly heavy, \"Geralt shook the monster that weighed no more than a fattened turkey.\"Fortunately for me I get paid per piece not by weight. '\n\n---\n\n\"Wow,\" Reynart Bois-de Fresnes whistled through his teeth, which for him, Geralt knew, meant the highest expression of astonishment and admiration. \"This is the first time I have seen something like this with my own eyes. A true monster, on my honor. So this is the dreaded basilisk?\"\n\n\"No,\" Geralt lifted the monster a little higher so the knight would see better. \"It is not a basilisk. It is a cockatrice.\"\n\n\"So what is the difference?\"\n\n\"The essentials. The basilisk is also known as the regulus, is a reptile. The cockatrice, also called a skoffin, is an ornithosaur– that is, half reptile, half bird. It is the only representative of the subclass, which scientist call Ornithoreptilia and after long disputes they came to the conclusion that...\"\n\n\"And which of the two,\" Reynart Bois-de Fresnes interrupted, apparently without interest of the discussions of scientists, \"can kill or turn a man to stone with a glance?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"None." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Those are stories.\"\n\n\"Then why are people so afraid? This thing here isn't so large. Can it be so dangerous? '\n\n\"This thing here,\" Geralt shook the dead monster, \"usually attacks from behind and without error goes perfectly between the vertebrae or the aorta or under the left kidney. Usually all it takes is a single thrust of its beak. With regards to the basilisk, it will kill you no matter where it bites; it has the strongest know poison which is a neurotoxin that kills within a few moments.\"\n\n\"Brrr... Tell me, which one can you kill with a mirror?\"\n\n\"All of them. If you slam it hard enough in the head with the mirror.\"\n\nReynard Bois-de Fresnes burst out laughing. Geralt did not laugh, the joke about the basilisk and the mirror was one the teachers in Kaer Morhen repeated often. Equally funny were the jokes about virgins and unicorns. There was also a story of foolishness about a young witcher from Kaer Morhen who made abet to shake hands with a dragon.\n\nHe smiled. Memories.\n\n\"I prefer it when you smile,\" Reynart said, watching him carefully. \"Like you are at this moment. Not like back in October when we first met in the Druidic woods. Back then you were gloomy, bitter and resentful at the world like a moneylender who had been cheated, and on top of that, like a man who throughout the night has come to nothing. Even in the morning.\"\n\n\"Really, I was like that?\"\n\n\"Really. So do not be surprised that I prefer you such as you are now. Changed.\"\n\n\"Therapy through work,\" Geralt again shook the cockatrice he held by the tail. \"The beneficial effects of exercise on mental health. And to continue the therapy, I'll get straight to business. The skoffin can earn more than the agreed upon price for capture. There is little damage to it, so you could take it to a taxidermist for stuffing, but do not take less than two hundred for it. If you have to sell it in pieces, remember that the most valuable feathers are those above the tail, especially these, the central rudders. They are far softer than those of a goose and write very nicely and cleanly with little wear. An experienced scribe will not hesitate to give you five per pen. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have clients to collect the body,\" the knight smiled. \"The Guild of Coopers. They saw in Castel Ravello that stuffed ugly thing, that monster, or whatever you call it... Then you, the day after Saovine, went into the basement and killed it.\"\n\n\"I remember.\"\n\n\"Now the Coopers had seen that stuffed ugly bitch and asked me about obtaining a similar rarity to decorate their guildhall. In Toussaint, the Coopers cannot complain about alack of work, and as a result they are prosperous so they will not think much if we charge two hundred and twenty for the cockatrice. Maybe even a bit more if we try to haggle. In regards to the feathers... They are not going to know if we took some feathers from the things ass to sell to the county chancery. The chancery does not payout of pocket, but the county will pay cash, without haggling, not five but ten per pen.\"\n\n\"I bow to your cunning.\"\n\n\"Nomen omen,\" Reynard Boris-de Fresnes'smile broadened.\"My mum must have known something, baptizing me after the sly fox from the nursery rhyme. '\n\n\"You should be a businessman, not a knight.\"\n\n\"I should,\" agreed the knight. \"But if you are born the son of a knight, you will die the son of a knight and will sire another knight. And it does not change, even if you are broke. You know how to count, Geralt, and the culture of the market.\"\n\n\"No, not culture. For similar reasons as yours. With the sole difference that I won't be siring anything. Let's get out of these dungeons.\"\n\nOutside, beneath the walls of the castle, the frost stung and the wind blew from the mountains. The night was a clear and cloudless sky full of stars and the moonlight sparkled on the fresh snow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The waiting horses snorted in welcome.\n\n\"We could go directly to my customer and make a deal,\" said the knight. \"But you probably need to get to Beauclair, huh? To a certain bedroom?\"\n\nGeralt did not answer, because he did not respond to such questions on principle. He tied the cockatrice onto the back his horse then mounted, Roach.\n\n\"We will visit the customer,\" he said. \"The night is still young and I'm hungry. I would also like to drink something. Let's go to town. To Pheasantry.\"\n\nThe knight laughed and adjusted the red and gold checkered shield hanging on the high saddle so he could scramble up.\n\n\"As you wish, my friend. We go to, Pheasantry. Forward mount.\"\n\nThey went down the slope to the road lined by a row of poplars.\n\n\"You know what, Reynart,\" Geralt suddenly said. \"I like you as you are now. Speaking normally. Back when we first met, you used annoying, moronic mannerisms.\"\n\n\"Upon my honor, witcher, I am a knight-errant,\" chortled the Reynart Boris-de Fresnes. \"Have you forgotten? Knights always talk like morons. It is as much apart of their character as this shield here. Thanks to the speech and the coat of arms we know who belongs to the brotherhood.\"\n\n\"On my honor,\" said the Checkerboard Knight, \"you are unnecessarily troubled, Sir Geralt. Your companions have certainly returned to health and their injuries forgotten. The Duchess has palace doctors in profusion, able to cure every disease. On my honor, there is more to discuss.\"\n\n\"I am of the same opinion.\" said Regis. \"Lighten up, Geralt. After all the Druidess healed Milva...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And the Druidess is familiar with treatments,\" Cahir interjected. \"The best example is my own head. Look, it is as good as new. Milva is certainly healthy already; there is no reason for concern.\"\n\n\"I hope so.\"\n\n\"Healthy already,\" repeated the Knight, \"I bet that when we return we will find her dancing at all the balls! Feasting! In Beauclair, at the court of the Duchess Anarietta there is always continuous dancing and feasting. Ha, ha, on my honor, now that I have fulfilled my knightly vow, I am...\"\n\n\"You have completed your vow?\"\n\n\"I was in the favor of Fortune! I would like to explain that I made an oath. And not just any oath, but on the heron. In Spring. I vowed to apprehend five hundred malefactors before Yule. I have completed this, so I am relieved. I can once again drink and eat beef. And I do not have to hid my name. Let me introduce myself. I am Reynart Boris-de Fresnes.\"\n\n\"A pleasure to meet you.\"\n\n\"You were talking of balls?\" Angouleme said, urging her horse up next to them. \"I hope that there will be enough food and drink for us. And I would gladly dance!\"\n\n\"On my honor, at the court of Duchess Anna Henrietta, there will be plenty of both,\" said Reynart Boris-de Fresnes. \"Singing and feasting and performances by jugglers, theatre, music, dancing and poetry in the evenings. You're friends of Dandelion... I man, the Viscount Julian. And he is very dear to Her Belovedness Our Lady Duchess. '\n\n\"And how long he boasted!\" Angouleme said. \"Was there truly an affair with them both? Do you know the story, Sir Knight? Tell us!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Angouleme,\" said the witcher. \"Do you need to know?\"\n\n\"I do not need to. But I want to! Leave off the protesting, Geralt. And stop looking so annoyed, otherwise the mushroom pickers will have nothing to do because the sight of your mouth will spoil the mushrooms on the roadside. And you, Sir Knight, tell me.\"\n\nThe other errant knights who rode at the head of the procession sang a song with a repeated refrain. The words of the song were almost unbelievably stupid.\n\n\"It happened,\" began the knight, \"six years ago. The poet was a guest at the court during the winter and spring, playing his lute, singing romances and declaiming poems. Prince Rajmund was at the time in Cintra for the congress. He was in no hurry to get back home; there was no secret that he kept a courtesan in Cintra. The Duchess Anarietta and Mister Dandelion... Well, Beauclair is a special, magical place where love works like a powerful spell on people... I'm sure you'll notice this. The Duchess got to know the troubadour. Maybe they did not even know it was happening– the poems, compliments, flowers, words, glances and sighs... To cut a story short, they both became too close.\"\n\n\"How close?\" laughed Angouleme.\n\n\"I was not an eyewitness,\" the knight said stiffly. \"And it is not suitable to pass on gossip. Moreover, you should know at your age, my dear, that love has many names, ultimately men can be attracted to women, body to body.\"\n\nCahir snorted softly. Angouleme has nothing to add.\n\n\"They met in secret for about two months,\" continues Reynart Boris-de Fresnes. \"From Belleteyn in midsummer. Overtime, however, they forgot prudence. Rumors spread and vicious talk of them did not leave them alone. Mister Dandelion did not stay and hurriedly left the principality. It soon became clear how wise that was. For barely had he left before Prince Rajmund returned from Cintra, and a servant told him everything. The Prince, when he had heard of the insult that had been made against him, as you can imagine, fell into a severe rage. He threw his bowl of soup on the table, slit the informers throat with a knife and roared words of little decency. Then he hit the Marshal in the face and broke his teeth and then in front of witnesses broke a wonderful mirror from Kovir into pieces. The Duchess was sent under arrest to her quarters and was threatened with torture to extract what had happened. After that he commanded that his soldiers pursue Mister Dandelion, and to kill him without mercy and cut his heart out of his chest. Inspired by some old ballads, he had thoughts to fry the heart and force Duchess Anarietta to eat the heart in front of the whole court. Ugh, disgusting! Thankfully, Mister Dandelion managed to disappear over the border in time.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Thankfully." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then the prince died?\"\n\n\"He died. The incident, as I was told, brought his blood to the boil, it is said that he had apoplexy and became paralyzed. He lay for nearly half a year like a log. But then he was fine. He stood on his feet again and walked. But with squinty eyes, like...\"\n\nThe Knight turned in his saddle, screwed up his eyes and grimaced like a monkey.\n\n\"While Prince Rajmund,\" he continued, \"had always been renowned as a womanizer, with the squint, he became even greater at fornicating, because every woman was thinking that he was winking in a sign of love for her. And quite a few females enjoyed the prince's attention. I am not saying that all the weaker sex in Toussaint are greedy with loose morals, but as the prince winked almost eternally, the majority of those women came out on top. But in the end trying to keep up with all this mischief, one night the apoplexy stuck him again. He breathed his last. In the bedroom. '\n\n\"On top of a girl?\" laughed Angouleme.\n\n\"Indeed,\" the normal serious Knight, smiled behind his moustache. \"In truth he was beneath her. But there is no need to go into details.\"\n\n\"It stands to reason that you do not,\" Cahir said seriously. \"Though I think there wasn't a lot of mourning for Prince Rajmund? During your story I got the impression... '\n\n\"That the unfaithful wife will be more loved that the cheating husband,\" interrupted the vampire in his usual way. \"Which is perhaps why she rules now?\"\n\n\"That is one reason why,\" Reynart Boris-de Fresnes answered with a disarming sincerity. \"But not only that. Prince Rajmund, to put it mildly, was dishonest, a villain, and forgive me, a motherfucker, that would cause the devil himself an ulcer in six months. And Toussaint suffered under his rule for seven years. But Duchess Anarietta is adored by the people.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So we do not have to worry,\" Geralt asked sourly, \"that the deceased Prince Rajmund left anyone who would honor him by putting a dagger into our friend, Dandelion?\"\n\n\"You do not have to worry,\" the Knight looked at him understandingly. \"On my honor, nothing will happen to him. As I told you, Our Lady is devoted to the poet and Anarietta would make mincemeat out of anyone who tried to harm him.\"\n\nThe good knight returns,\n\nWhen the war is over,\n\nNot expecting his beloved,\n\nHas now been married,\n\nHey, ho, ho,\n\nThat's the knight's fate.\n\nAlarmed by the knights singing, a flock of screaming crows took flight from the trees lining the roadside.\n\nSoon they left the forest into a wide valley between the hills, on which the towers of a palace shone white against the blue sky. As far as the eye could see, the gentle hills were covered in neatly trimmed hedges and bushes. The ground beneath the bushes was lined with red and yellow leaves.\n\n\"What is that?\" Angouleme asked. \"Grapevines?\"\n\n\"Grapevines,\" confirmed Reynart Boris-de Fresnes. \"The famous valley of Sansretour. The world's most excellent wine is made from the grapes that grow here. '\n\n\"True,\" said Regis, who as usual, knew everything. \"Due to the volcanic soil here and the local microclimate that provides the ideal amount of sunny days with annual precipitation. If we add to this tradition the knowledge and care from the workers of the vineyard, the resulting product is a superior quality brand.\"\n\n\"Well put,\" the Knight smiled. \"Quality and brand. Oh, look, for example, on the slopes below the palace, in this region we give names to the wines and vineyards. This is called the Castel Ravello and its wines come from vineyards such as Erveluce, the Fiorano, the famous Pomino and Est Est. Surely you have heard of it. A barrel of Est Est wine is tenfold as much as you would pay fora barrel from the Cidaris vineyard of Alba. And there, oh, look, you can see other castles and vineyards, but the names will probably be too foreign to you– Vermentino, Toricella, Casteldaccia, Tufo, Sancerre, Nuragus, Coronata and finally Corvo Bianco, which the elves call, Gwyn Cerbin. I take it these names are foreign to you?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Foreign, ha!\" said Angouleme. \"You especially need the knowledge so that a rogue innkeeper does not pour one of these wines and not ordinary plonk, otherwise more than once I would have had to leave my horse as a pledge, of what Est Est wine would cost. This stuff might be great for lords, but we the ordinary people, the cheaper the better. And I can tell you this for I've experienced both– puking is the same whether you've had Est Est wine or cheap wine.\"\n\n\"Don't judge us on our cheap wines, Angouleme, \"Reynart said, sitting at a bench behind a table.\"We'll bring you a quality brand and a good year. We can afford to, we've earned it. We can treat ourselves to our heart's content.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Geralt said, waving to the innkeeper. \"Dandelion sometimes says that there are other motivations for making money, but can never recall what. I want to taste what is making those tempting smells from the kitchen. Anyway, I did not expect at this late hour, Pheasantry would have this many guests.\"\n\n\"But today is the feast of Yule,\" said the innkeeper, who had heard his words. \"People are celebrating. Having fun. Having fortunes read. According to tradition...\"\n\n\"I know,\" the witcher interrupted. \"And in the kitchen, what tradition are you preparing today?\"\n\n\"Smoked tongue and horseradish. Capon broth with meatballs. Roast meat, dumplings and sauerkraut...\"\n\n\"Bring it quickly, my good man. And for... What do we ask for, Reynart?\"\n\n\"With meat,\" thought the Knight, \"We'll have a red Cote de Blessure. The year that the old Countess Karoberta kicked the bucket. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A wonderful choice,\" the innkeeper nodded. \"At your service, gentlemen.\"\n\nA spring of mistletoe thrown over the shoulder of one of the girl at a neighboring table fell into Geralt's lap. The celebrating company laughed and the girl blushed prettily.\n\n\"None of that,\" the Knight threw the spring back. \"This is not your chosen one. He is already busy, gracious lady. He is already captivated by certain green eyes...\"\n\n\"Shut up, Reynart!\"\n\nThe innkeeper brought the ordered food and drink, and then they ate and drank in silence, watching the surrounding festivities.\n\n\"Yule,\" Geralt said thoughtfully, placing his cup on the table. \"Midinvaerne. The winter solstice. I'm stuck here for two months. Two months lost. '\n\n\"One month,\" Reynart corrected him soberly. \"If you lose anything, then it is only one month. The snow will cover the mountain passes and you will not be able to leave Toussaint. You will have to stay here during Yule and probably until spring, because it will be in vain to waste tears on force majeure. In any case, do not go overboard with the sadness and grief. I do not believe that they are sorry for you.\"\n\n\"What do you know, Reynart? What do you know?\"\n\n\"Not much,\" replied the Knight, pouring. \"Not much more than what I see. And I saw your first meeting, you and her. In Beauclair. Remember the festival of the vat? The white underwear?\"\n\nGeralt did not answer. Remembering.\n\n\"Our castle in Beauclair is magical, its charms act powerfully on people,\" muttered Reynart, sipping wine and rolling it over his tongue. \"The view alone is able to charm. I remember how you gasped when you saw it, in October. Cahir show us what expression he used then.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A spectacular castle,\" Cahir said with admiration. \"On my soul, it is admirable and pleasing to the eye.\"\n\n\"A pretty place your Duchess lives,\" said Regis. \"This has to be our stop.\"\n\n\"A fucking nice place,\" Angouleme added.\n\n\"Palace Beauclair,\" Reynart Bois-de Fresnes said proudly. \"An Elvish building only slightly modified and redesigned. Apparently by Faramond himself.\"\n\n\"No doubt,\" said the vampire. \"There is no doubt the Faramond style is evident at first glance. Just look at those towers.\"\n\nThe towers, slender, white obelisks, that Regis pointed to, rose high above the red roofs to the sky. At first sight they resembled candles, with wax cascading down to the masterfully decorated base.\n\n\"At the foot of Beauclair,\" the Knight Reynart explained, \"lies the city. The wall, of course, was added later, after all, elves do not build walls around a city. Spur your horses, gentlemen, we still have along way to go. Beauclair looks close, but the mountains throw off perspective.\"\n\n\"Let's go. '\n\nOn the way to the city they overtook carts and wagons, lots of carts and wagons– all full of grapes. They entered the noisy and grape scented streets of a city park after dark, full of poplar, yew and barberry. They passed roses, mostly multiflora varieties and centifolia. Finally they stood before the carved columns and portals of the palace, were stood soldiers and footmen in livery.\n\nAmong those that greeted them was Dandelion, combed and dress like a prince.\n\n\"Where is Milva?\"\n\n\"It's okay, don't worry. She is sitting in the chambers, which were prepared for you, and does not want to move from there.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Why?\"\n\n\"We'll talk about that later. Now come, the Duchess is waiting. '\n\n\"Right now?\"\n\n\"That washer wish.\"\n\nThe hall into which they entered was full of people as colorful as birds of paradise. Geralt did not have time to look around, because Dandelion pushed him towards a marble dais on which stood two women, significantly differing from the surrounding society.\n\nIt was quiet, but it grew quieter.\n\nThe first of the women had a sharp, slightly raised nose and penetrating blue eyes that seemed feverish. Her auburn hair was adjusted in a perfect and truly artistic style, tied with silk ribbons and submitted to the last detail– including flawless crescent curls on her forehead. The bodice of her dress was cut deep and interwoven with pale blue and iridescent purple stripes on a black background, with a dense and regular design of small embroidered gold chrysanthemums. Her neck was adorned with a mesh of extremely complex goldsmith's work– a necklace of emeralds, onyx and lapis lazuli, the lowermost edge was completed with a jade cross, located between her breasts, bound by the tight bodice. It seemed that the fragile shoulders of the woman would not generate sufficient support for her broad and deep cleavage, and that at any moment her breast might slip out. However, they remained in place, kept in position by the secret mysteries of dressmaking and the buffers of puffy sleeves.\n\nHer companion was more or less the same height and had lipstick on her lips the same color. But that's where the similarity of the two women ended. The other wore her hair cropped short in a lace cap trimmed with a muslin veil reaching to the tip of her nose. The flower motif of the veil could not conceal her large lustrous eyes, highlighted with green shadow. The same floral veil covered a very modest neckline of a black dress with long sleeves. The dress was seemingly randomly decorated with gold stars embroidered with tiny cut aquamarines and mountain crystals." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Her ladyship, the Duchess Anna Henrietta." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kneel, Sir,\" said someone, whispering behind Geralt.\n\nI wonder which one, thought Geralt, who with effort bent his sore knee in a ceremonial bow. I'll be damned if they both don't look royal.\n\n\"Arise, Sir Geralt,\" the lady with the auburn hair and slightly raised nose, dispelled his doubts. \"I welcome you to Castle Beauclair in the Principality of Toussaint. I am delighted to be able to host those who are carrying out such a noble mission. Moreover, you've also been a friend to our dear Viscount Julian. '\n\nAt these words Dandelion bowed deeply.\n\n\"The Viscount,\" continued the Duchess, \"has revealed tome your names and the reason and purpose of your mission, and told me what brings you to Toussaint. His story touched my heart. I am going to give you a private audience, Sir Geralt. It will have to be delayed a small while, as I am saddled with state requirements. The harvest is complete and tradition requires our participation in the feast of the vat.\"\n\nThe woman in the veil at the Duchess's side leaned forward and whispered something quickly. Anna Henrietta looked at the witcher, smiled and licked her lips.\n\n\"It is my desire,\" she raised her voice, \"that during the festival alongside Viscount Julian, Geralt of Rivia will serve us.\"\n\nA murmur swept through the group of courtiers and knights, like the rustling of wind through the pines. The Duchess Anarietta gave the witcher one last glance and left the room with her companion and retinue of pages.\n\n\"Damn,\" said the Chessboard Knight. \"That is a surprise. You have received a great honor, Sir Geralt.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I'm not too clear what it was, \"said Geralt.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "How should I serve Her Grace? '\n\n\"Her Belovedness,\" corrected a nobleman with the appearance of a confectioner. \"I'm sorry, sir, to correct you, but I have to meet obligations. We, in Toussaint, adhere to tradition and protocol. I am Sebastian Le Goff, chamberlain and marshal of the palace. '\n\n\"Pleased to meet you.\"\n\n\"The official title of Lady Anna Henrietta,\" said the chamberlain, who not only looked like a confectioner, but even smelled like icing, 'is'Your Enlightenedness\" and unofficially'Lady Duchess\" for outside of court. But you should always address her as'Your Belovedness\".\n\n\"Thank you, I'll remember that. And the other lady? How do I title her? '\n\n\"Her official title is'venerable\"\" the chamberlain instructed him seriously. \"But it is possible to address her as'ma'am\". She is a relative of the Duchess, called Fringilla Vigo. According to the will of Her Belovedness, it is Lady Fringilla that you will serve at the festival. '\n\n\"And what is involved with this service?\"\n\n\"Nothing complicated. Let me tell you, long ago we used mechanical presses for grapes, but the tradition...\"\n\nThe courtyard resounded with the hum and trills of pipes, flutes and the fierce clatter of drums and tambourines. Onstage, in the middle of the courtyard stood a huge vat, in which jugglers and acrobats jumped around doing flips and somersaults. The courtyard and the galleries were crowded with spectators– ladies, nobles, knights, burgesses, merchants and common people.\n\nSebastian Le Goff lifted a staff entwined with vies and tapped it three times on the pavement." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Ho, ho!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "he called. \"Noble ladies and gentlemen, knights, people!\"\n\n\"Ho, ho!\" replied the crowd.\n\n\"Ho, ho! This is an ancient custom! Let the vines thrive! Ho, ho! Let the sun ripen them!\"\n\n\"Ho, ho! Let them ripen!\"\n\n\"Ho, ho! Let them ferment! Let them take strength and flavor from the barrels! Let it change into wine! Let it flow into our cups and raise them to the honor of our majesty, the beautiful ladies, brave knights and industrious winemakers!\"\n\n\"Ho, ho! Cheers!\"\n\n\"Let them Beauties come forward!\"\n\nFrom a damask tent on the opposite side of the courtyard stood two women– Duchess Anna Henrietta and her dark-haired companion. Both were shrouded in long scarlet cloaks.\n\n\"Let the young come forward!\"\n\nThe'young\" were instructed in advance what to do. Dandelion went to the Duchess and Geralt stepped out to meet the dark-haired companion, which he knew as Fringilla Vigo.\n\nBoth women dropped their cloaks and the crowd rose in a thunderous ovation. Geralt swallowed.\n\nThe women were wearing sleeveless white shirts made of thin spiderweb like fabric, which did not even reach to their thighs. And lacy panties. And nothing more. Not even jewellery. And they walked barefoot.\n\nGeralt offered Fringilla his arm, she willingly embraced him around the neck. She smelled of roses and amber. Her body was warm and soft.\n\nThe women were brought to the vat, Geralt with Fringilla and the Duchess with Dandelion and helped to stand up in the grape juice. The crowd roared." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Continue the tale as the writer's plot helper.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 4" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Ho, ho!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "he called. \"Noble ladies and gentlemen, knights, people!\"\n\n\"Ho, ho!\" replied the crowd.\n\n\"Ho, ho! This is an ancient custom! Let the vines thrive! Ho, ho! Let the sun ripen them!\"\n\n\"Ho, ho! Let them ripen!\"\n\n\"Ho, ho! Let them ferment! Let them take strength and flavor from the barrels! Let it change into wine! Let it flow into our cups and raise them to the honor of our majesty, the beautiful ladies, brave knights and industrious winemakers!\"\n\n\"Ho, ho! Cheers!\"\n\n\"Let them Beauties come forward!\"\n\nFrom a damask tent on the opposite side of the courtyard stood two women– Duchess Anna Henrietta and her dark-haired companion. Both were shrouded in long scarlet cloaks.\n\n\"Let the young come forward!\"\n\nThe'young\" were instructed in advance what to do. Dandelion went to the Duchess and Geralt stepped out to meet the dark-haired companion, which he knew as Fringilla Vigo.\n\nBoth women dropped their cloaks and the crowd rose in a thunderous ovation. Geralt swallowed.\n\nThe women were wearing sleeveless white shirts made of thin spiderweb like fabric, which did not even reach to their thighs. And lacy panties. And nothing more. Not even jewellery. And they walked barefoot.\n\nGeralt offered Fringilla his arm, she willingly embraced him around the neck. She smelled of roses and amber. Her body was warm and soft.\n\nThe women were brought to the vat, Geralt with Fringilla and the Duchess with Dandelion and helped to stand up in the grape juice. The crowd roared." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ho, ho!\"\n\nAnarietta and Fringilla stood facing each other and laid their hands on each other's shoulders to more easily maintain balance among the grapes, which rose to above their knees. Juice spat and sprayed. The women spun around inside the vat and laughed like kids. Fringilla shot the witcher a playful wink.\n\n\"Ho, ho!\" shouted the audience. \"Let then ferment!\"\n\nJuice flowed and bubbled about the calves of the females.\n\nThe chamberlain struck his staff on the pavement. Geralt and Dandelion approached and help the women get out of the vat. Geralt saw Anarietta nibble on the troubadour's ear when he lifted her in his arms. Her eyes glittered dangerously. He himself felt Fringilla's lips brush his cheek, but could not swear whether by accident or intentionally. The strong smell of wine, hit him in the head. Fringilla stood on the stage and wrapped herself in a scarlet cloak. The brunette squeezed his hand strongly.\n\n\"These old traditions,\" she said, \"can be exciting, right?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Thank you, witcher.\"\n\n\"The pleasure is all mine.\"\n\n\"Not all of it, I assure you.\"\n\n\"Pour, Reynart,\"\n\nThe company at the next table performed a more festive divination– throwing a chain of peeled apple skins and guessing their future partners from the letter it resembled. Even though practically every throw produced the letter'S\", they continued to throw.\n\nThe knight poured.\n\n\"Milva, it turns out,\" said the witcher, lost in thought, 'is healthy, though she still wears a bandage around her ribs. But she is sitting in her room refusing to exit because she does not want to wear a bloody dress. It seemed that the conflict was going to break protocol, but the" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "situation was calmed by the omniscient, Regis. Citing a hundred precedents forced the Chamberlain to bring her some male clothes. Angouleme was happy fora change to get rid of her pants and riding boots. After some soap, a comb and a dress she resembles a pretty girl. All of us seem to be in a better mood after a bath and clean clothes. Even me. I was in a fairly good mood when we went to the audience... '\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" interrupted Reynart and with a movement of his head indicated the across the taproom. \"We have some interest heading towards us. Ha, not one but two vineyards. Our Customer Malatesta is bringing his neighbor... and competitor. Wonder of wonders!\"\n\n\"Who is the second?\"\n\nPomerol vineyards. From there comes the Cote de Blessure, the wine that we just drank. '\n\nMalatesta, Vermentino's vineyard administrator, waved his arms and rushed over to them. The man he was leading had lush black hair and a black moustache, like an outlaw rather than an honorable citizen.\n\n\"Allow me, gentlemen,\" Malatesta said. \"Mister Alcides Fierabras, Pomerol vineyard administrator.\"\n\n\"Sit down, please.\"\n\n\"Just a minute. Mister Witcher about the monster from our cellars. By the fact that you are here, I assume the beast is slain. Am I correct?\"\n\n\"Quite dead.\"\n\n\"The agreed upon sum,\" Malatesta assured him, \"will be paid to your account with G later today. Thank you very much, Mister Witcher. Very few large wineries can boast such a large cellar, deep and spacious, bearing to the north, neither too dry nor too wet– just perfect for wine. It was a shame that it could not be used. Did you see for yourself the part of the cellar when the monster managed to crawl through? The devil knows from where... Probably straight out of hell...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The caves in volcanic tuffs often serve as havens for various monsters.\" Reynart instructed importantly. He had accompanied the witcher for more than a month and was a good listener and learned things. \"Sure enough, where there is a tuff, you'll find a monster. '\n\n\"Maybe the tuff,\" Malatesta squinted at him. \"But people say it's because our basement connects with deep caverns that lead into the heart of the country. Such caves are numerous in this country... '\n\n\"You don't have to look far, \"said the bearded Pomerol.\"Also under our cellars are corridors that stretch for miles and nobody knows where they end. Those who went to explore never returned. And there have been seen terrible monsters. So I would ask... '\n\n\"I can guess,\" said the witcher, \"what you would ask. I accept. I will examine your cellars. My fee is determined in accordance with this and what I come across.\"\n\n\"You will not regret it,\" said the bearded man. \"Uh, uh, uh... One more thing...\"\n\n\"Speak. I'm listening. '\n\n\"The succubus that haunts the nights and torments men... The one that the enlightened Duchess has ordered you to kill... I think there is no requirement to kill her. She bothers no one, to tell the truth... Oh, sometimes we will visit when drunk... to sometimes just try a little...\"\n\n\"But only the adults,\" Malatesta added quickly.\n\n\"I had it on the tip of my tongue, neighbor. As I said, the succubus harms no one. And lately even appears to be frightened of you Mister Witcher. So why pursue her? After all, you do not need the cash. But if you are offended...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You could help my account with Cianfanelli,\" Geralt said with a straight face. \"A witcher pension fund.\"\n\n\"So be it.\"\n\n\"The succubus's blond head will not fall. '\n\n\"And farewell,\" both of the vineyard administrators stood up. \"We will leave you in peace and not disturb you. This is a day of festival. A tradition. And herein Toussaint a tradition is...\"\n\n\"I know,\" said Geralt. 'Holy.\"\n\nThe company at the next table should loudly with joy at anew divination, which was made by using a ball of pie dough and the bones of a fish. Drinking at the same time, the innkeeper and the wenches bustled about running with jugs.\n\n\"The famous succubus,\" Reynart said scoping more cabbage into his dish, \"was one of the first of the witcher contracts you accepted when you came to Toussaint. After that everything move so fast and you couldn't get rid of customers. The funny thing is I do not remember which of the wineries gave you your first assignment... '\n\n\"You were not there. I happened the second day after the audience with the Duchess. The audience where you were not needed.\"\n\n\"It's no wonder. It was a private audience. '\n\n\"Private,\" spluttered Geralt. \"It was attended by about twenty people. And that is not counting the footmen who were motionless as statues, pages, young children and a boring clown. Among those that I counted, were Le Goff, the chamberlain who would rather be a confectioner. There were several nobles bending under the weight of gold chains. There were a few cronies in black, councilors, maybe judges. There was baron with a bull's head coat of arms from Caed Myrkvid. And Fringilla, of course, who is obviously close to your duchess. And there was our bunch, including Milva in male attire. Oh, we were poorly expressed. It was not our whole group, we were missing Dandelion. Dandelion or rather Viscount Julian was lounging in a chair beside Duchess Anarietta and strutted like a peacock. A royal favorite. Only Anarietta, Fringilla and Dandelion sat. No one else was allowed to sit. Even so, I was glad we did not have to kneel. The Duchess listened tome very intently, but fortunately she jumped only a few times during my talk. When I finally briefly recounted my conversation with the flaminica, she anxiously wrung her hands. The gesture was as sincere as it was exaggerated. It probably sounds like an absurd contradiction in terms, but trust me, Reynart, it was precisely so. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Oh, oh, oh,\" sighed the Duchess Anna Henrietta, wringing her hands. \"Your story distresses me, Mister Geralt. It seizes my heart with sadness.\"\n\nShe sniffled her nose and reached out her hand, Dandelion at once placed a cambric handkerchief embroidered with a monogram into it. The Duchess touched the handkerchief lightly to her cheeks, so as not to remove her makeup.\n\n\"Oh, oh,\" she repeated. \"So the druids know nothing of Ciri? Were they notable to offer help? Were all your efforts in vain as the outcome of your journey?\"\n\n\"Surely not in vain,\" he answered. \"I recognize that I did not get any concrete information from the druids or any clues, albeit only the most vague, to explain why Ciri had become the object of such fierce persecution. The druids, however, could not or would not help. In that case, I really did not learn anything new, but...\"\n\nHe paused fora moment. Not to be dramatic, but just to wonder if he could speak frankly in from of the whole gathering.\n\n\"I know Ciri lives,\" he said dryly. \"Probably was injured. And is still in danger. But she lives.\"\n\nAnna Henrietta sighed again and took the handkerchief from Dandelion again.\n\n\"I promise you our help and support,\" she said. \"Stay in Toussaint as long as you wish. You should know that I used to visit Cintra, I knew and cultivated a friendship with Pavetta and knew and loved little Ciri. I am with you wholeheartedly, Mister Geralt. If necessary, you will have the assistance of our scholars and sorcerers. The doors of our library and bookstores are open to you. I believe that we can find some clue, some signor indication to point you on the right track. Do not act hastily. You need not hasten. You can stay here as a welcome guest as long as necessary.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I thank you for your kindness and grace,\" Geralt bowed. \"However, we must continue on the road. Ciri is still in danger. And we are also in danger. When we stop for too long in one place, the danger not only grows, but begins to threaten the people around us. I will not allow this.\"\n\nThe Duchess was silent fora while, stroking Dandelion's forearm with a rhythmic movement, like a cat.\n\n\"Your words are noble and honest. But you do not have to worry here. The villains that stalked you were crushed by my knighthood, so that none escape, so I have been briefed by Viscount Julian. And one who dares cross your path better be careful. You are under my protection.\"\n\n\"I appreciate that,\" Geralt swept another bow, and cursed his sore knee inspirit, and not just his knee. \"However, I must not conceal what Viscount Dandelion has forgotten to tell you. The rogues who chased me to Belhaven and the one that the brave knights beat in Caed Myrkvid, were indeed rogues from the guild of illustrious rogues, but also wore the color of Nilfgaard.\"\n\n\"And what of it?\"\n\n\"Well, this was the tip of the force of Nilfgaardians that conquered Aedirn in twenty days, and they could do the same to you Duchy in twenty minutes.\"\n\n\"It is a war,\" he insisted. \"What happened in the woods of Caed Myrkvid and Belhaven maybe regarded as rebellion and disruption to the rear of the imperial troops. Something like that usually causes repression. Ina state of war...\"\n\n\"The war,\" interrupted the Duchess, lifting her nose in the air, \"has undoubtedly been revoked. I wrote of this matter to my cousin Emhyr var Emreis. In my letter, I asked him firmly to stop the senseless bloodshed. The war has ended and there has definitely been a peace agreement.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Not so,\" Geralt said calmly. \"Across the Yaruga roam sword and fire, blood is being spilled. There is no indication that the war was to end. Rather the opposite.\"\n\nHe immediately regretted what he said.\n\n\"How is this possible?\" the Duchess's nose lifted even higher, her voice became harsh.\"Did I hear right? The war continues? Why were we not told about this? Minister Tremblay? '\n\n\"Excellency, I...\" one if the nobles in gold chains fell to his knees. \"I did not want to worry... Upset... Highness...\"\n\n\"Guards,\" she screamed. \"To the tower with him! You're fallen out of favor Mister Tremblay! In disgrace! Lord Chamberlain! Mister Secretary! '\n\n\"At your orders, Your grace...\"\n\n\"Have our foreign minister immediately send a note to our cousin, the Emperor of Nilfgaard. We demand that he immediately, immediately cease fighting and sign for peace. For war and discord are bad things! Discord ruins strength and harmony!\"\n\n\"Your truth has clarity\" said the Chamberlain. So far he smelled like powdered sugar, now his face took on its color.\n\n\"What are you still doing here, gentlemen? I have issued an order. No go, act!\"\n\nGeralt looked around discreetly. The noble and officials maintained their stone faces, similar incidents like this were nothing new at court. He decided from now on he was just going to agree with the Duchess.\n\nAnarietta took the handkerchief and touch the tip of her nose with it and smiled at Geralt.\n\n\"As you can see,\" she said. \"Your fears were in vain. You have nothing to fear and can stay here as long as you want.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes, Your Excellency.\"\n\nIn the silence you could clearly hear the worms chewing wood in the antique furniture. And the curse of one of the groom in the far courtyard dealing with a horse.\n\n\"We would also like to ask you something, Mister Geralt,\" Anarietta interrupted the silence. \"Since you area witcher.\"\n\n\"At your service, Your Excellency.\"\n\n\"It is a plea from the many of the virtuous ladies of Toussaint. A nightmare is troubling their homes. A spirit, a demon in female form, a succubus, so shameless that we dare not describe her, tortures faithful and virtuous spouses. She enters the bedrooms at night and makes all kinds of knavery and abominable perversion that our modesty forbids us to speak of. You as an expert, certainly know what it is.\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Excellency.\"\n\n\"The women on Toussaint ask that you put an end to this indecency. And I assure you our infinite gratitude.\"\n\n\"Thank you for your confidence, Your Excellency.\"\n\nAngouleme found the witcher and the vampire in the castle park; both were enjoying a walk and a quiet conversation.\n\n\"You will not believe,\" she said. \"You will not believe what I have to tell you. But it is the pure truth...\"\n\n\"Speak.\"\n\n\"Reynart de Boris-Fresnes, the Checkerboard knight, in addition to other knights, are inline at the county treasurer's chamber. And you know what for? To collect his pay for this month! The line, is at least half an archery field long and there are so many tabards, the eyes get tired. When I asked Reynart about it he said that a knight-errant shouldn't starve.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is so strange in all this?\"\n\n\"Are you kidding! A man becomes a knight fora noble calling! Not fora monthly salary!\"\n\n\"One does not exclude the other,\" Regis said seriously. \"Trust me, Angouleme.\"\n\n\"Trust him, Angouleme,\" Geralt said drily. \"Stop running around the castle in search of sensation, go keep Milva company. She is in a terrible mood and should not be left alone.\"\n\n\"Right. Auntie has her period and because of it is more angry than a wasp. I think...\"\n\n\"Angouleme!\"\n\n\"I'm going, I'm going.\"\n\nRegis and Geralt stopped before abed of slightly wilted Centifolias. Yet they were unable to continue their conversation. From behind a greenhouse emerged a man dressed in an elegant coat of sienna.\n\n\"Good morning,\" he bowed and wiped his knee with his biretta. \"Can I ask which of you gentlemen, praise be, is the witcher named Geralt, famous in his trade?\"\n\n\"I am\"\n\n\"My name is Jean Catillon, I am the steward of the Castel Toricella vineyards. The thing is that we could use a witcher in the cellars. I wanted to inquire if you were willing to...\"\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\n\"Well,\" began Catillon, \"because of this damn war, merchants rarely come, so inventories increase, and there are no new places in the cellars for the new barrels. We thought that the various caves and tunnels below the castle which are said to stretch across our country could be expanded. We found a suitable cave– large, vaulted, neither too wet or dry, it would have been good for the wine...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So what?\" the witcher could not stand it.\n\n\"It appears that there is a monster prowling in the cave. It burned two people, reducing one to bones and the other one was left blind, sir, the monster spits or vomits some kind of caustic lye or something...\"\n\n\"A solpuga,\" said Geralt. \"Also called a venenosera.\"\n\n\"Here,\" smiled Regis. \"You can see for yourself, Sir Catillon that you are dealing with a professional. A professional, it seems who has fallen from heaven. And have you asked for help from the famous local knights? The Duchess has a whole regiment of them and this is precisely their kind of mission, their reason for being.\"\n\n\"That is not their reason,\" Steward Catillon shook his head. \"Their reason is to protect the highways, routes and passes, because if the merchants don't reach here, we would soon be broke. In addition, our knights are brave and warlike– but only on horseback. They wouldn't go underground for anything. And plus they are expensive...\"\n\nHe stopped and was silent. He had the look of a man who wanted to spit but couldn't. And a look of regret.\n\n\"They are expensive,\" Geralt finished for him, but not particularly scathing. \"Take note, my good man that I am even more expensive. It's a competitive market. But if we have a contract, I'll dismount from my horse and go underground. Think about it, but do not think about it too long, because I will not be in Toussaint long.\"\n\n\"You surprise me,\" Regis said, as soon as the steward had walked away. \"Has the witcher in you suddenly been revived? Do you accept the contract? Are you going to hunt the monster?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I too am surprised,\" Geralt admitted frankly. \"I reacted unconsciously, impulsively. Somehow I felt pulled to it. But a bid can be rejected as too low. Let's get back to our conversation. '\n\n\"Wait a minute,\" Regis said looking over his shoulder. \"Something tells me that you're about to have more business. '\n\nGeralt cursed under his breath. On a path lined with cypress, two knights were walking towards them. He instantly recognized the first one; the enormous bull's head on afield of white snow could not be confused with any other shield. The second knight, tall, grey, with nobly angular features, like they were carved from granite, had across with golden lilies on a blue background. Stopping at the prescribed distance of two steps, the knights bowed. Geralt and Regis bowed back; the four of them remained in orderly silence by the tradition of chivalry for the count often heartbeats.\n\n\"Allow me, gentlemen,\" said the man with the bull's head shield,\"to introduce, Baron Palmerin de Launfal. And I, as you can remember am called... '\n\n\"Baron de Peyrac-Peyran. As if it was possible to forget.\"\n\n\"We have a case for the witcher,\" said Baron de Peyrac-Peyran. \"Relative, so to speak, to his professional work.\"\n\n\"Speak.\"\n\n\"In private.\"\n\n\"I have no secrets from Mister Regis.\"\n\n\"But the noble lords have them,\" the vampire smiled. \"Therefore, if I may, I will take a look at that beautiful pavilion, which is probably a secluded toilet. Lord de Peyrac-Peyran... Lord de Launfal...\"\n\nBows were exchanged." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm listening, ' Geralt broke the silence without thinking fora moment about waiting ten heartbeats.\n\n\"It's, \"Peyrac-Peyran lowered his voice and looked around fearfully,\"the succubus... The spirit that haunts the night. The Duchess and ladies have asked you to destroy. May I ask how much you have been promised to kill the monster? '\n\n\"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but it is a professional secret. '\n\n\"We understand, we understand,\" said the knight with the cross of lilies. \"It is clear that we are dealing with an honorable man. Verily, I fear that such a man will find insult with our proposal, but I must give it. Renounce this contract, Sir Witcher. Please leave the succubus alone. We will not say anything to the Duchess and the ladies. And on my honor, we men of Toussaint, will exceed the amount of the ladies. You would be amazed by our generosity.\"\n\n\"Your proposal,\" said the witcher in a cold voice, \"is in fact not too far from an insult.\"\n\n\"Mister Geralt,\" Palmerin de Launfal's face was hard and serious.\"I'll tell you what we dare to propose. Ergo, there is a rumor about you. Saying that you only kill those monsters that area threat. Areal threat. Not from imagination, or from ignorance or prejudice. Let me tell you that the succubus does not threaten or harm anyone. Oh, she visits sleeping men... from time to time... And mortifies a little...\"\n\n\"But only to adults,\" Peyrac-Peyran quickly added.\n\n\"The ladies of Toussaint,\" Geralt said looking around, \"would not be very happy if they knew of this conversation. Nor would the Duchess.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"We fully agree with you,\" murmured Palmerin de Launfal." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We recommend the utmost discretion. There is no need to irritate the bigoted guardian of decency.\"\n\n\"Open an account for me with one of the local dwarven banks,\" Geralt said slowly and quietly. \"And amaze me with your generosity. But be advised that it is not easy to amaze me.\"\n\n\"We are still going to try,\" Peyrac-Peyran said confidently.\n\nThey exchanged farewells.\n\nHe returned to Regis, who of course had heard everything with his vampire hearing.\n\n\"Now,\" he said without smiling, \"you can argue that it was an involuntary reflex and inexplicable impulse. But how do you explain that to an open bank account?\"\n\nGeralt looked somewhere high above the tops of the cypress trees.\n\n\"Who knows,\" he said. \"Maybe we'll spend a few days here. Given Milva's broken ribs, it may even be more than a few days. Maybe a couple of weeks? It would not hurt if during this time we gained some financial independence.\"\n\n\"So that's were there bank account with Cianfanelli came from, \"Reynart de Bois-Fresnes shook his head.\"Well, if the Duchess finds out, it will mean new changes in rank, there would be anew distribution of patents. Ha, maybe I'd even get promoted? On my honor, it's a shame you do not have the qualities of a snitch. Tell me now of the famous banquet that caused you so much joy. I longed to take part in it, to eat and drink! But they sent me to the border, to a watchtower, in the cold and grey mountains. What despair, the fate of a knight..! '\n\n\"The large and highly anticipated banquet,\" Geralt said, 'was prepared with great care and diligence. We mainly had to find Milva, who had holed up in the stables and convince her that her attendance at the banquet was essential and depended upon the fate of Ciri and nearly" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "the whole world. We almost forcibly compelled her to wear women's clothes. Then we had to get Angouleme to promise to behave as a well-behaved young lady, and to especially avoid words like'fuck\" and'ass\". And when we finally got everything ready and to ensure our success we downed a cup of wine, your confectioner Le Goff appeared. Smelling like frosting and puffing like a pig's bladder. '\n\n\"By virtue of my office,\" Le Goff said through his nose. \"I want to assure you that at the festive board, Her Highness has few places of honor and importance, therefore no one can feel prejudice to the place allocated to him. But because here, in Toussaint, we pay special attention to traditions and customs...\"\n\n\"Get to the point, sir.\"\n\n\"The banquet is tomorrow. I organize all guests according to their origin and status.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" the Witcher said seriously. \"The most important of us is Dandelion. Both in origin and status.\"\n\n\"Viscount Julian,\" the Chamberlain said, wrinkling his nose, \"is an extraordinary guest of honor. As such, he will sit at the right hand of Her Serene Highness.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" repeated the Witcher, with all seriousness. \"And he has failed to clarify what our ranks, titles and honors are?\"\n\n\"He revealed,\" the Chamberlain coughed, \"but only that the noble gentlemen and maidens are travelling incognito, and therefore cannot reveal their names, ranks and titles.\"\n\n\"That is correct. What is the problem?\"\n\n\"I have to know! You are guest and companions of the Viscount, so you will be sitting near the head of the table... Among the Barons. But it is still possible that you gentlemen and ladies maybe of a higher rank, which would entitle you to sit closer to the Duchess...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"He,\" said the witcher, pointing to the vampire without hesitation, who was not faraway admiring a tapestry which took upmost of the wall, \"is an Earl. But not a word about it. It is a secret.\"\n\n\"I understand,\" gasped the fat man with excitement. \"In those circumstances... I will seat him next to Countess Notturna, the noble and gracious aunt of the Duchess.\"\n\n\"You will not regret it, neither you nor the aunt,\" Geralt assured him with a straight face. \"The earl has no equal in the ways of art and conversation.\"\n\n\"I am pleased to hear it. For your part, Lord of Rivia, I will sit you next to the venerable Lady Fringilla. As is the tradition. You carried her to the vat, you are her... hmmm... knight, as it...\"\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\n\"Excellent. Ah, Earl...\"\n\n\"What?\" the vampire said surprised who had just moved away from the tapestry, representing the battle with a Cyclops.\n\n\"Nothing, nothing,\" Geralt smiled. \"We were just talking.\"\n\n\"Aha,\" Regis nodded. \"I do not know if you gentlemen have noticed... But the Cyclops in the tapestry, the one with the club... Look at the toes on his feet. I'm afraid to say that he has two left feet. '\n\n\"Indeed,\" Chamberlain Le Goff confirmed without a trace of amazement. \"There are more of these tapestries in Beauclair. The weaver who wove it was a true master. But he drank a lot. But he was an artist.\"\n\n\"It's time, \"said the witcher, avoiding the eyes of the wine tipsy girls peering at him from the other table, who were amusing themselves with divination.\"Let's go, Reynart. Pay up, get the horses and lets go to Beauclair.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I know why you are in such a hurry,\" the knight showed his teeth." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Don't worry, green eyes will be waiting. It is hardly midnight. Tell me about the banquet. '\n\n\"I'll tell you and we'll go.\"\n\n\"Let's go. '\n\nThe sight of the huge horseshoe shaped banquet table clearly reminded them that autumn was finished and winter was approaching. Among the food bowls and trays, were platters of venison and all possible types of game. There were whole quarters of wild boar, deer, hams and pink slices of smoked meat and pies. All decorated with seasoned mushrooms, cranberries and rowanberries. There were autumn birds– grouse, pheasant, quail, served with decorative wings and tails, roasted in hazel and mistle. They also served fish– trout and pike, fished from the mountain streams.\n\nEven in autumn they did not lack the festive greens. It included a salad of lettuce, which must have been harvested while still under the snow. Flowers had been substituted with mistletoe.\n\nIn the middle of the horseshoe table at the place of honor, where the Duchess Anarietta and her guest would sit, was a large silver tray filled with decorations. Among the flowers, lemon slices, artichoke hearts and truffles, stood an enormous sturgeon on whose back stood a heron. In its raised beak it held a golden ring.\n\n\"I swear by the heron!\" Peyrac-Peyran the well-known Baron with the bull's head coat of arms cried, standing up and raising his cup.\"By the heron I swear to defend the honor of knighthood, and to never leave the field to anyone! '\n\nThe vow was rewarded with tumultuous applause. They began to eat.\n\n\"I swear by the heron,\" shouted another knight with a twisted aggressive moustache like a broom. \"I swear to defend to the last drop of my blood the borders of Her Excellency Anna Henrietta! To prove my loyalty, I swear to paint on my shield a heron and fora year to fight incognito and shall be called the Knight of the White Heron! Health to Our Lady the Duchess!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Health! Happiness! Cheers! Long live the Duchess!\"\n\nAnarietta thanked them with a slight nod of her diamond tiara decorated head. She was wearing so many diamonds, that if she was to walk pasta window she would scratch the glass. Dandelion sat beside her and smiled stupidly. A little further on, between to matrons, sat Emiel Regis. He was dressed in a black velvet jacket which made him look like a vampire. He served the matrons with conversation and they listened fascinated.\n\nGeralt took a platter covered in a perch and parsley and offered it to Fringilla Vigo who was sitting to his left. She wore a gown of blue satin and a gorgeous amethyst necklace. She looked at him from under her long eyelashes, lifted her cup and smiled mysteriously.\n\n\"Your health, Geralt. I'm glad that we sat next to each other. '\n\n\"Do not praise the day before sunset,\" he said returning her smile, because he was in a good mood. \"The banquet has barely begun.\"\n\n\"On the contrary. It has lasted long enough, you haven't given me a compliment. How long must I wait? '\n\n\"Your beauty so dazzles me that I lack the words.\"\n\n\"Slow down, slowdown,\" she laughed, and he swore that it was honest. \"I fear to think how far we would goat this rate before the end of the banquet. Start from... Well, say I have an elegant dress and blue suits me.\"\n\n\"The color blue suits you. But I have to admit that I liked you more in white.\"\n\nHe recognized a challenge in her emerald eyes. He feared to accept it. His good humor did not reach that far.\n\nCahir and Milva sat on the opposite side of the table. The young man was sitting between two noble young ladies, probably baronesses that kept talking to him. Meanwhile, the archer kept company with an older gentleman, dark and silent, his stone face was scarred from smallpox." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A little further on sat Angouleme, leading yarns and the uproar of young knights.\n\n\"What is this?\" she squeaked, waving around a silver knife. \"A blunt knife? Are they afraid that we will start a fight at the banquet?\"\n\n\"These knives,\" explained Fringilla, \"have been used in Beauclair since the days of Princess Caroline Roberta, Anna Henrietta's grandmother. Karoberta hated when the guests at the table picked their teeth with knives and blades with rounded tips were introduce so there was noway of picking. '\n\n\"No way,\" agreed Angouleme, smiling impishly. \"Fortunately, they gave me a fork!\"\n\nShe pretended to put the fork in her mouth, but a menacing glare from Geralt stopped her. The knight who sat to his right laughed with a vibrant falsetto.\n\nGeralt took a pot of duck in aspic and served it to Fringilla. He saw two young Baronesses religiously looking at Cahir, and how he honestly tried to divide among them equally his attention. He saw the young knights bustle around Angouleme, getting her food and laughing at her silly jokes.\n\nHe saw Milva crumbling bread and staring at the tablecloth.\n\nFringilla seemed to read his thoughts.\n\n\"It's too bad, \"she whispered, leaning towards him,\"about your tight-lipped friend. Well, such things happen when laying out the table. Chivalry is not Baron de Trastamara strong point. '\n\n\"Maybe it's better, \"Geralt said quietly,\"a slobbery and willing courtier would have been worse. I know Milva. '\n\n\"Are you sure?\" she looked at him quickly. \"Could it be you measure her with your own staff? Which, frankly. Is pretty grim.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He did not answer, instead he poured wine. And he recognized it was time to clarify a certain issue. '\n\n\"You're a sorceress, right? '\n\n\"I am,\" she said, deftly hiding her total surprise. \"How did you know?\"\n\n\"I can feel an aura,\" he did not enter into details. \"I have had experience.\"\n\n\"To be clear,\" she said. \"I did not intend to deceive anyone. On the other hand, I am under no obligation to showoff my profession or to impose a pointy hat and black cloak. Why should they have to scare children with me? I have the right to be incognito.\"\n\n\"I do not deny it.\"\n\n\"I am in Beauclair because here is the largest and richest library in the known world. Besides the university, that is. But universities guard access to their shelves and here I am a relative and friend to Anarietta and can do anything I want.\"\n\n\"An enviable position.\"\n\n\"During the audience the duchess suggested that in the library or archive you may find some useful information. Do not be fooled by her exaltation, she's like that. But you may find something in the local books. You just have to know whereto look. '\n\n\"As simple as that.\"\n\n\"Your enthusiasm is really contagious and encourages me to continue the conversation,\" her green eyes flashed. \"I guess the reason is because you do not trust me, correct?\"\n\n\"Would you like more hazel grouse?\"\n\n\"I swear by the heron!\" A young knight from the end of the horseshoe got up and tied a sash around one eye that was held out by a neighbor at the table. \"I vow to not takeoff this sash until all the bandits in the passage of Cervantes are killed!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Duchess nodded at him with her sparkling tiara.\n\nGeralt hoped Fringilla would not pursue the subject. He was wrong.\n\n\"You do not believe or trust me,\" she said. \"You have caused me a painful double blow. Not only do you doubt the sincerity that I want to help, but you do not believe that I can. Oh, Geralt! You have hurt my pride and lofty ambition.\"\n\n\"Listen...\"\n\n\"No!\" She raised her knife and fork as if threatened them. \"Do not explain yourself. I cannot stand men who are justified.\"\n\n\"What kind of man can you stand?\"\n\nHer eyes narrowed, but she still held the cutlery like knives ready to strike.\n\n\"The list is long,\" she said slowly, \"and I do not want to bore you with the details. I will mention only those men occupied by distinguished positions who are willing to follow a loved one to the end of the world and do not succumb to fear and despise danger. And do not give up even when it seems there is no chance.\"\n\n\"What about other positions on the list?\" he could not contain himself. \"Are their men who you do like? Are they also crazy?\"\n\n\"What is real masculinity,\" she mockingly shook her head, \"but the right mixture of crazy and style?\"\n\n\"Ladies and gentlemen, barons and knights!\" Cried the Chamberlain Le Goff as he rose and stood with both hands on a gigantic glass. \"Under these circumstances I would make a toast to the health of our most serene ladyship, the Duchess Anna Henrietta!\"\n\n\"Health and happiness!\"\n\n\"Hurray!\"\n\n\"Long live the Duchess!\"\n\n\"And now ladies and gentlemen,\" the Chamberlain set down the glass and gestured towards the servants, \"Now... Magna beast!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On a tray resting on the shoulders of four strapping servants was a gargantuan roast being brought into the hall.\n\n\"Magna beast!\" The rest of the guest cried in chorus. \"Hurray! Magna beast!\"\n\n\"And what fucking beast is that?\" Angouleme expressed her concern aloud. \"I won't eat it until I find out what it is. '\n\n\"It's a deer, \"Geralt said.\"A roast deer. '\n\n\"And not just any deer,\" Milva spoke, clearing her throat. \"The deer weighs about seven hundredweight.\"\n\n\"Close. It is seven hundredweight and forty pounds,\" said the baron sitting next to her hoarsely. They were the first words that he had spoken since the beginning of the banquet.\n\nMaybe it would have been the beginning of a conversation, but the archer blushed, fixed her eyes on the tablecloth and resumed crushing her bread.\n\nBut Geralt took to heart, Fringilla's words.\n\n\"Were you perhaps, Lord Baron,\" he asked, \"the happy hunter, who took down this beast?\"\n\n\"No,\" he replied. \"My nephew, an excellent marksman. But these are men's interests, so to speak... I'm sorry, I did not mean to bore the ladies present...\"\n\n\"From what bow?\" Milva asked, still staring at the tablecloth. \"I'm sure from at least a seventy? '\n\n\"The double bent Zefhar,\" the Baron said slowly, visibly surprised. \"Laminate, Layers of yew, acacia, ash and bonded tendons. Seventy-five pounds of force.\"\n\n\"And tension?\"\n\n\"Twenty-nice inches,\" the Baron spoke more slowly, he seemed to almost spit out the words." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"A nice piece,\" Milva said happily." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It can shot a deer from perhaps a hundred paces. If the shooter is really good.\"\n\n\"I,\" growled the Baron somewhat indignantly, \"at a quarter of a hundred paces, hit a pheasant.\"\n\n\"At a quarter of a hundred paces,\" Milva lifted her head, \"I hit a squirrel.\"\n\nThe Baron, clearly flustered, quickly started on his food and drink.\n\n\"A good bow is half the success,\" he stammered. \"But equally important, so to speak, are quality arrows. Tome the best...\"\n\n\"To the health of Her Excellency Anna Henrietta! To the health of Viscount Julian de Lettenhove!\"\n\n\"Cheers!\"\n\n\"... And she kicked him in the ass,\" Angouleme finished another silly joke. The young knights rolled with laughter.\n\nThe Baronesses whose names were Queline and Nique, listened to Cahir with open mouths, wide eyes and burning cheeks. At the head of the banquet table could be hear Regis and the higher aristocracy. For Geralt– even with his witcher hearing– could only make out a few buzzwords here and there, but they seemed to be talking about ghosts, strigas, succubi and vampires. Regis gesticulated with a silver fork and argued the best remedy for vampires are silver, whose lightest touch is absolutely deadly to a vampire. What about garlic? Asked one of the ladies. Garlic is also effective; Regis went on, but socially awkward, because of the awful smell.\n\nIn the gallery and orchestra played softly, fiddles and flutes and jugglers and fire-eaters boasted their arts. Jesters tried to entertain the company, but Angouleme raked over the top of them. Then came a bear– which to everyone's amusement did a pile of the floor. Angouleme became sad– she could not compete with something like that." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Duchess suddenly fell into a rage, with some reckless word one of the barons fell out of favor and went under escort to the tower." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "No one but the victim showed any sorrow.\n\n\"Don't leave here so quickly, \"Fringilla Vigo said suddenly, sipping from a cup.\"Even if you prefer to runaway, none of this will. '\n\n\"Please, do not read my thoughts.\"\n\n\"Sorry. They were so strong that I read them involuntarily.\"\n\n\"I don't know how many times I have heard that. '\n\n\"I myself don't know how many times I know. Please, eat the artichokes, they are health and are good for the heart. The heart is an important organ in the male, the second when it comes to validity. '\n\n\"I thought the most important were rank and madness.\"\n\n\"Qualities of the mind should go hand in hand with qualities of the body. This gives perfection.\"\n\n\"Nobody is perfect.\"\n\n\"This is not an argument. You have to try them. You know what. I will have that hazel grouse.\"\n\nHe cut the bird on her plate so fast and suddenly that the witch trembled.\n\n\"Do not leave here so fast,\" she said again. \"First, because you do not have too. And you are not in danger...\"\n\n\"Of course not,\" he burst out. \"Nilfgaard will be frightened of a protest note from the Duchess. And if they did risk coming here, they'd be expelled by knights with sashes binding their eyes and vows made to herons. '\n\n\"Nothing threatens you here,\" she said, ignoring his sarcasm. \"Toussaint is considered the land of fairy tales, silly, clueless and thanks to it sustained economic focus in a state of constant drinking and recklessness. As such, it is not taken seriously by anyone, but is permitted to enjoy certain privileges. In the end we are the most prominent producer of wine and as we know, life without wine would be very unstable. In Toussaint there are no spies, agents or secret service. Toussaint doesn't need an army, just wandering knights wearing blindfolds because Toussaint is never attacked. By the look of you, I guess I have not convinced you. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Not at all.\"\n\n\"A pity,\" Fringilla squinted. \"I hate half-measures or half-promises. Neither of these things should be done by half. So I'll tell you– Fulko Artevelde, the prefect of Riedbrune, thinks you are dead, some fugitives told him that the druids burned you alive. Fulko is doing his best to cover up the matter. If the case came to light, it could trigger an investigation that could cost Fulko his career at best. And when he sees you alive it will be too late– what he said in the reports will be binding. '\n\n\"You know a lot.\"\n\n\"I do not deny it. So the argument about the persecution from the Nilfgaardians disappears. And now nothing forces your rapid departure.\"\n\n\"Interesting.\"\n\n\"But true. From Toussaint you can leave by four passes that lead to four different parts of the world. The Druids did not tell you anything and refused to cooperate. The mountain elf has disappeared...\"\n\n\"You really do know a lot.\"\n\n\"You already said that.\"\n\n\"And you want to help.\"\n\n\"And you refuse my help. You do not believe in the sincerity of my intentions. You don't trust me. '\n\n\"Listen, I...\"\n\n\"Do not explain yourself. Eat some more artichokes.\"\n\nAgain someone made avow to the heron. Cahir spoke to the baronesses giving them compliments. Angouleme, tipsy, could be heard throughout the whole room. The pockmarked and flushed baron, mesmerized by discussions about archery and hunting, even started flirting with Milva.\n\n\"Please, my lady, try the wild boar ham. Soto speak... They are from my manor forest, where a whole herd of them reside.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Oh.\"\n\n\"There are among them some outstanding boars to hunt... Maybe sometime... you could come and we can, so to speak, go hunting together...\"\n\n\"But we will not be staying here long,\" Milva looked pleadingly at Geralt. \"More important tasks than hunting lie ahead.\"\n\nBut when she saw how disappointed the Baron looked, she hastily added, \"Under other circumstances, I would be happy to go hunting boars.\"\n\nThe Baron immediately cheered up.\n\n\"If not for hunting,\" he said elated, \"at least fora visit. I would honestly like to invite you all to my manor. I can show you, so to speak, my collection of hunting trophies, bows and sword...\"\n\nMilva looked down at the tablecloth. The Baron grabbed a tray of fowl and served her then filled her cup.\n\n\"Excuse me, graceful maiden,\" he said. \" I'm not, so to speak, an entertaining companion. I do not control courtly manners and smooth words are foreign tome...\"\n\n\"I,\" Milva shyly confessed, \"I was raised in the woods. I can appreciate peace and silence.\"\n\nFringilla found Geralt's hand under the table and held it tightly. Geralt looked into her eyes. He could not guess what was hidden in them.\n\n\"I trust you,\" he said. \"I believe in the sincerity of your purpose.\"\n\n\"You do not lie?\"\n\n\"I vow by the heron.\"\n\nThe City guard must have had the chance to celebrate Yule because he walked unsteadily, banging his halberd into signs and through a slurred proclamation announced that it was the tenth of the clock, when in fact it was well after midnight." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You'll have to go to Beauclair alone, \"Reynart de Bois-Fresnes said soon after they left the tavern.\"I shall stay in the city. Goodnight, Geralt. '\n\nThe Witcher knew that his friend had a love affair with a certain lady. Whose husband is often on the road for business. He never talked about it because men do not talk of such things.\n\n\"Good night, Reynart. Take care of the skoffin. Don't let it spoil. '\n\n\"It's freezing. '\n\nIt was freezing. The streets were empty and dark. The moon shone on the roofs, shining like diamonds on the ice that hung from the eaves. Roach's horseshoes rang against the pavement.\n\nRoach, thought the witcher as he headed towards the palace of Beauclair, a graceful grey mare, a gift from Anna Henrietta. And Dandelion.\n\nHe urged his horse forwards. Hurrying up.\n\nThe next day after the banquet they all met for breakfast, they became accustomed to going straight to the castle kitchen. For some reason, they were always welcome and always found something for them in the pots, pans or grills, usually bread, bacon, cheese or maybe pickled mushrooms. They never missed ajar or two of red or white from the famous local vineyards.\n\nThey went there every morning for the two weeks they spent in Beauclair– Geralt, Regis, Cahir, Milva and Angouleme. Only Dandelion had breakfast elsewhere.\n\n\"He,\" Angouleme slathered some bread with butter, \"has his bacon brought to him in bed! With everyone bowing to him!\"\n\nGeralt was willing to believe that the girl was right. And this morning decided to check it out." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He found Dandelion in the Knights Hall. The poet wore a crimson beret as big as a loaf of bread and was wearing a doublet of the same color richly embroidered with gold thread. He\n\nwas sitting on a stool with his lute on his knees and his head was nodding carelessly in answer to the flattery of the courtiers and ladies who circled around him.\n\nAnna Henrietta was thankfully not insight, so Geralt unhesitatingly violated etiquette and headed straight for him friend. Dandelion saw him coming, swelled and with an imperious gesture said, \"Ladies and gentlemen, please leave us in private. Also the servants are allow to leave.\"\n\nHe clapped his hands and before the echo of his clap returned from the vaulted ceiling of the hall, only the two of them stood there– and the smell of perfume, which hovered in the air after the ladies left.\n\n\"Pretty fun.\" Geralt said without exaggeration, \"this is the chase, huh? It must be a nice feeling to give orders or clap or a monarchical frown. See how they retreat, like crabs, bending before you in reverence. Pretty fun, right? Sir Favorite?\"\n\nDandelion scowled.\n\n\"Are you here for something specific,\" he said gruffly, \"or just this crap?\"\n\n\"About something very specific.\"\n\n\"Speak, I'm listening. '\n\n\"I need three riding horses. For me, Cahir and Angouleme. And two wagons, loaded with rations and feed. Can you ask for them from your Duchess? You have served long enough, I hope?\"\n\n\"No problem,\" Dandelion tuned his lute not looking at the witcher. \"But I'm surprised by your haste. I would say it surprises meas much as your silly sarcasm. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My urgency surprises you?\"\n\n\"Just so you know. October is over and the weather deteriorates noticeably. Snow will befalling in the passes any day now.\"\n\n\"And you wonder at my hurry,\" the witcher nodded. \"But that reminds me, get more warm clothing. Fur.\"\n\n\"I thought,\" Dandelion said slowly, \"that we would wait out the winter here. That we would be here...\"\n\n\"I you like,\" Geralt said without thinking, \"you can stay.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Dandelion put his lute aside and stood up. \"I think I will stay.\"\n\nThe witcher gasped audibly. He was silent. He looked at the tapestry, which depicted an imaginary fight between a titan and a dragon. The titan was standing on two left feet, trying to break the dragon's jaw, and the dragon did not look too thrilled.\n\n\"I'm staying, \"Dandelion repeated.\"I love Anarietta. And she loves me. '\n\nGeralt remained silent.\n\n\"I will arrange the horses,\" Dandelion promised. \"For you, I'll prepare a thoroughbred mare named Roach, of course. For the journey you will also get food, equipment and warm clothing. But honestly, I advise you to wait until spring. Anarietta... '\n\n\"Do I hear you correctly?\" the Witcher finally regained his voice. \"Are my ears deceiving me?\"\n\n\"Your reason has certainly failed,\" snapped the troubadour, \"How are you other senses, I don't know. But to be safe I will repeat– Anarietta and I love you. Abide in Toussaint. With her. '\n\n\"Like what? A lover? A favorite? Or maybe the Prince Consort?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Formal and legal status doesn't mean anything tome, \"Dandelion admitted frankly.\"But you can't rule out anything. Marriage or not.\"\n\nGeralt was silent again, contemplating the titan's battle against the dragon.\n\n\"Dandelion,\" he said finally. \"If you've been drinking, sober up quickly. If you haven't been drinking, then let's have a drink. Then we'll talk.\"\n\n\"I don't quite understand, \"Dandelion said frowning.\"What are you saying? '\n\n\"Think a minute.\"\n\n\"Are you embarrassed about my relationship with Anarietta? Are you asking me to reconsider it? Don't worry, I've thought about it. Anarietta loves me...\"\n\n\"Have you ever heard a saying,\" said Geralt, \"that princesses leap after love like hares? Even if Anarietta is not so frivolous, forgive my candor, it seems tome, that...\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"That it is only in fairy tales that Duchesses marry musicians.\"\n\n\"First of all,\" snapped Dandelion, \"Even such an ignoramus like you should have heard of morganatic marriages. Do I have to get out some examples from ancient and recent history? Secondly, it may surprise you, but I am not of an insignificances. My family, de Lettenhove, are derived from...\"\n\n\"I'm listening to you, \"Geralt cut him off again,\"and I don't believe my own ears. Is this really my friend Dandelion, who is speaking such crap? If it is indeed my friend, Dandelion, has he lost all shred of reason? Is it really Dandelion, whom I had known to be a realist, who is now living in a sphere of illusion? Open your eyes, you idiot!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Oh,\" the troubadour said slowly, clenching his lips." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The roles are reversed. I am blind, but you have become a sober and factual observer. It used to be the opposite. And what is this curious thing that I cannot see? Huh? What have I, according to you, closed my eyes too?\"\n\n\"Most of all,\" said the witcher, \"that your chosen duchess is arrogant and ridiculous and spoiled. She is a big child for whom you are nothing but a toy, which she will discard without reproach as soon as anew musician appears with a fascinating new repertoire.\"\n\n\"What you say is low and vulgar. I hope you realize?\"\n\n\"I realize that you have gone completely mad, Dandelion.\"\n\nThe poet was silent, stroking the neck of his lute. It took sometime before he spoke again.\n\n\"We came out of Brokilon on a joy expedition. Without the slightest chance of success, we followed a mirage, a dream, a desire, an unattainable ideal. We set off in pursuit like crazy fools. But I, Geralt, I did not say a word of complaint. I did not call you crazy or ridicule you. Because you were filled with hope and love. They guided you on this insane mission. And me too. But I have caught up with a mirage, and I was lucky enough that the dream came true. My mission has ended. I have found what is hard to find. And I cannot give it up. Is that supposed to be madness? I'd be a fool if I left. '\n\nGeralt was silent as long as Dandelion had been before.\n\n\"Poetry,\" he said. \"In that you have no equal. I do not have anything to say, you have convinced me with your arguments. Farewell, Dandelion.\"\n\n\"Farewell, Geralt.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The library of the palace was indeed huge. The room which housed it was at least twice the size of the Knights Hall, where he had left Dandelion. The library had a glass ceiling, through which sunlight poured. Geralt imagined, however, that in summer it would heat up like hell.\n\nThe passages between the shelves were so narrow that they had to walk very carefully to avoid knocking over stacks of books.\n\n\"Here I am,\" he heard a call.\n\nThe center of the library disappeared among piles of books. Many lay completely disordered, one by one or in clusters.\n\n\"Here, Geralt.\"\n\nHe found here between the bookish canyons and gorges. She was kneeling among scattered books, fanning them and sorting. She wore a modest grey dress pulled up slightly for comfort. Geralt saw that the view was very attractive.\n\n\"Do not be scared of this mess,\" she said wiping her forehead with her forearm, because her hands were covered in thin silk gloves, dirty from dust. \"They are performing inventory and cataloguing. But they have stopped at my request. I wanted to be alone in the library. I cannot work when a stranger is gazing at the back of my neck.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry. Do you want me to leave? '\n\n\"You're not a stranger, \"she narrowed her green eyes.\"Your gaze does not bother me... On the contrary, it makes me happy. Don't just stand there. Sit down heron the books.\"\n\nHe sat down on a hardcover encyclopedia.\n\n\"This is a mess,\" Fringilla made a sweeping gesture around her, \"is going to make my job easier. I can get to the volumes that would normally lie at the bottom of a pile and would be impossible to move. The court librarians moved mountains of papers and parchments, so some of the real jewels of literature can seethe light of day, some true rarities. Look. Have you ever see this?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Speculum Aureum? I've seen it. '\n\n\"I forgot, sorry. You've seen a lot. That was a compliment, not sarcasm. But look at this one, Gesta Regum. From this we begin to understand who your Ciri really is and what blood flows in her veins... You know, you look even more sour than usual. What is the reason? '\n\n\"Dandelion.\"\n\n\"Will you tell me about it?\"\n\nHe spoke. Fringilla listened, sitting with her legs crossed on the pile of books.\n\n\"Hmmm,\" she said when he had finished. \"I admit that I expected something similar. I have noticed Anarietta showing unmistakable signs of falling in love.\"\n\n\"Falling in love?\" he raised his eyebrows. \"Or a noble whim?\"\n\n\"Do you not believe,\" she looked at him sharply, \"of a pure and sincere love?\"\n\n\"My belief or disbelief,\" he said, \"has nothing to do with it. It is Dandelion and his obsessive...\"\n\nHe suddenly lost confidence and did not finish.\n\n\"With love,\" Fringilla said, \"it is like nervous cramps. You cannot even be effect until they attack, and you cannot even imagine something like that. And when you describe it, nobody would believe it.\"\n\n\"Some part does,\" agreed the witcher. \"But there are also differences. Against nervous cramps commonsense won't protect you. And there is no cure. '\n\n\"Love mocks sense. That is part of its charm and beauty.\"\n\n\"Stupidity rather.\"\n\nShe got up and approached him while taking off her gloves. Her eyes gave the feeling of being deep and dark behind the curtain of her lashes. She smelled of amber, roses, the dust from the library, aging paper and printing ink. Those smells had nothing to do with aphrodisiacs– and yet for him they worked." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You do not believe,\" her voice changed, \"in love at first sight? Fatal attraction? The collision of celestial bodies?\"\n\nShe reached out and put her hands on his shoulders. He grabbed her around the waist. Her face approached reluctantly, wary, as if afraid to frighten some very timid creature.\n\nAnd then the celestial bodies collided and the earth moved.\n\nThey fell in a pile of parchment that scattered everywhere under their weight. Geralt stuck his nose into Fringilla's neckline. He hugged her and grabbed her knee. He rolled up her skirt to her waist knocking over several books, including Lives of the Prophets, full of mysterious illustrations, as well as De Haemorrhoidibus, an interesting, though controversial medical\n\ntreatise. The witcher pushed aside volumes and pulled at the dress impatiently. Fringilla eagerly raised her hips.\n\nSomething pushed against her shoulder. She turned her head. Learning the Art of Midwifery. Quickly, so as not to tempt the devil, she looked in the other direction. The Sulfurous Hot Springs. In fact it was getting warmer. From the corner of her eye she saw an open book which rested by her head. Reflections on Inevitable Death. Even better, she thought.\n\nThe witcher struggled with her panties. She raised her hips, but this time only slightly, so that it look like a random movement and not defiant help. She did not know him and did not know to respond. Whether he prefers that a woman knows what she wants, or does he like a woman who pretends she doesn't know. And if he would be discouraged by panties that offered resistance.\n\nThe witcher, however, seemed to show no signs of discouragement. You could say the contrary. Seeing that it was time, Fringilla eagerly spread her legs, bringing down books and pamphlets stacked in piles, which poured over them like an avalanche. A heavy, leather bound copy of Mortgage Law painfully struck her in the ribs and the Codex Diphmaticus, adorned with brass fittings, fell on Geralt's wrist. Geralt assessed and took advantage of the situation– placing the large tome where it was necessary. Fringilla squeaked because the fittings were cold. But only fora moment." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She gasped loudly, letting goof the witcher's hair and throwing her hands out, grasping both hands into the surrounding books, he left handhold a book on geometry and her right hold a book about reptiles and amphibians." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt, who held her by the hips, unwittingly knocked over another pile of books, he was too preoccupied to worry about the pages that rained down on them.\n\nFringilla moaned uncontrollably, her head buried into the book Reflections on Inevitable Death.\n\nFringilla moaned again. The witcher did not hear it because her thighs were tightly squeezing his ears. He knocked over The History of Wars and Sciences Needed fora Happy Life. He fought with the buttons and hooks of her dress, inadvertently reading the inscriptions on covers and spines of books. At the level of Fringilla's waist lay Breeding Animals, in close proximity to her lovely breasts was a hard critical publication about useless and corrupt civil servants, and below that an economic study called Economics and Science– How to create, distribute and consume wealth.\n\nShelves swayed and columns of books collapsed like rocks in a strong earthquake. With a thud, from the shelf fella first edition copy of De Larvis Scenicis et figuris comicis, followed by a conventional and well-known book about inventory release and commands of training troops and a book on the Heraldry of Jan de Attire adorned with the beautiful engravings.\n\nThe witcher moaned, dropping more volumes to the floor with a kick from his leg. Fringilla leaned back and cried out, hitting with her heel a pile of books. A copy of Reflections and Meditations for Every Day of the Year, an anonymous and interesting work, somehow appeared on Geralt's back.\n\nGeralt read over her shoulder, finding out whether he wanted to or not, notes that had been written by a doctor named Albertus Rivus, in a book called Academia Cintensis, printed by the master typographer Johann Froben Junior in the second year of the reign of His Majesty King Corbett." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Suddenly there was a silence in which only the faint sound of rustling pages could be heard.\n\nWhat should I do, Fringilla wondered, lightly touching the hard edges of Geralt's side and a copy of the Reflections on the Nature of Things. Make a suggestion? Or wait for him to make a suggestion? What would he think of me? But what if he doesn't make a suggestion?\n\n\"Let's find abed, \"the witcher solved her dilemma.\"It's not right to treat books this way.\"\n\nWe found abed, Geralt remembered, he rode straight into an alley and with a kick spurred into a gallop. We found the bed in her chambers in the alcove. We made love to each other as if obsessed, eagerly, greedily, as if after years of celibacy and as if celibacy was threatening again.\n\nWe talked of many things. We told about ourselves very trivial truths. We told ourselves very beautiful lies. But those lies, even though they were lies, were not meant to be calculate or to deceive.\n\nWith a strong kick, he forced Roach into a gallop directly towards a clump of roses covered by snow and forced her to jump.\n\nWe made love. And we talked. And our lies were becoming more beautiful and increasingly false.\n\nTwo months. From October to Yule.\n\nTwo months of furious, greedy, violent love.\n\nRoach's horseshoes clattered on the palace courtyard of Beauclair.\n\nQuickly and quietly he walked through the corridors. No one saw him or heard him. Neither the Guardsmen quenching their boredom with chatter or the tired butlers. He did not even make the candle flames waver as he passed by them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He walked around the castle kitchens. But he did not stop or go into join his companions, who at this late hour, had developed a taste fora jug of wine and something to eat. He stood in the darkness and listened.\n\nAngouleme was speaking.\n\n\"This city is under a spell, all of Toussaint. A charm that hangs over the whole valley. And now on this particular palace. I wondered about Dandelion, I wondered about Geralt, but now it makes me kind of dizzy to be here and I feel a strange tingling... I've even found myself... Fuck, what did I tell you! We have to get out of here as quickly as possible! '\n\n\"We must talk to Geralt,\" muttered Milva. \"We must talk to him.\"\n\n\"Yes, talk to him,\" Cahir said sarcastically, \"in one of those rare moments, where he is available. Hunting witches and monsters are the only activities that he has performed in the last two months.\"\n\n\"And you,\" Angouleme snorted, \"can only be caught while walking in the park playing with the baronesses. This is what happens in spellbound, Toussaint. Regis vanishes at night; my aunty had her Baron...\"\n\n\"Shut up, brat! And don't call me your aunty! '\n\n\"Come, come!\" Regis stepped between the two ladies. \"Girls, beat peace. Milva, Angouleme, don't argue. Hostility ruins, friendship builds. It is said that Her Ladyship the Duchess and likes Dandelion, her country, the palace, bread, and pickles. Would you like some wine? '\n\nMilva released a heavy sigh.\n\n\"We have been here too long! Too long, I tell you, sitting herein idleness. Fooling around.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "As the writer's helper, keep the story going.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 4" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He walked around the castle kitchens. But he did not stop or go into join his companions, who at this late hour, had developed a taste fora jug of wine and something to eat. He stood in the darkness and listened.\n\nAngouleme was speaking.\n\n\"This city is under a spell, all of Toussaint. A charm that hangs over the whole valley. And now on this particular palace. I wondered about Dandelion, I wondered about Geralt, but now it makes me kind of dizzy to be here and I feel a strange tingling... I've even found myself... Fuck, what did I tell you! We have to get out of here as quickly as possible! '\n\n\"We must talk to Geralt,\" muttered Milva. \"We must talk to him.\"\n\n\"Yes, talk to him,\" Cahir said sarcastically, \"in one of those rare moments, where he is available. Hunting witches and monsters are the only activities that he has performed in the last two months.\"\n\n\"And you,\" Angouleme snorted, \"can only be caught while walking in the park playing with the baronesses. This is what happens in spellbound, Toussaint. Regis vanishes at night; my aunty had her Baron...\"\n\n\"Shut up, brat! And don't call me your aunty! '\n\n\"Come, come!\" Regis stepped between the two ladies. \"Girls, beat peace. Milva, Angouleme, don't argue. Hostility ruins, friendship builds. It is said that Her Ladyship the Duchess and likes Dandelion, her country, the palace, bread, and pickles. Would you like some wine? '\n\nMilva released a heavy sigh.\n\n\"We have been here too long! Too long, I tell you, sitting herein idleness. Fooling around.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Nicely put,\" said Cahir. \"Very nice.\"\n\nGeralt carefully moved away. As noiselessly as a bat.\n\nQuickly and silently he walked down the corridors. No one saw or heard him. Neither the guards nor the valets. Not even the candle flames flickered as he passes the chandeliers. A rat heard him and poked out its bearded nose. But it was not scared. He was known here.\n\nHe went this way often.\n\nThe bedroom smelled of spells, amber, rose and a woman sleeping. But Fringilla was not asleep. She sat on the bed and tossed back the covers; the sight charmed him and made him lose control.\n\n\"You've finally arrived, \"she said, stretching.\"Undress and come here quickly. Very, very quickly. '\n\nShe went through the halls quickly and quietly. No one saw or heard her. Neither the soldiers who gossiped lazily with the guards or the footmen or the pages. Not even the candle flames flickered as she passed the chandeliers. A rat heard her and lifted up its hairy nose and followed her with its beady eyes. But it was not frightened. She was known here.\n\nShe passed this way often.\n\nIn the castle of Beauclair was a secret passage behind a door at the end of a chamber, which nobody knew about. Neither the current lady of the castle, the Duchess Anarietta, nor her ancestor, Ademarta, First Lady of the Castle. Neither the famous architect, Pierre Faramond who renovated the building from top to bottom, nor the master masons who worked on Faramond's project. The existence of the passage was not even known by the Chamberlain Le Goff, who was thought to know everything about Beauclair." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The passage and the room, masked by a powerful illusion, were only known by the castles builders– Elves. Later, when the elves left the castle and were replaced by people, only a handful knew about the secret which was guarded closely by a small group of wizards from the princely family. Most knowledgeable of them all was Master of the Arcane, Artorius Vigo, a respected specialist in all kinds of illusion, whose young niece, Fringilla inherited her uncle's talent and also became a witch.\n\nFringilla stopped in front of a bare wall between two columns decorated with a floral motif. With a whisper and a quick gesture, a false wall disappeared. Beyond was revealed a corridor which seemingly led to a dead end. At the end of the corridor, however, was another door masked by illusion. And behind this door was a darkroom.\n\nFringilla entered and without wasting time, started the tele-communicator. Oval mirrors which had stood dark started to brighten up the darkroom. Through the mirror was revealed a hall, in which sat around table surrounded by women. Nine women.\n\n\"We are listening, Fringilla,\" said Philippa Eilhart. \"Do you have any news?\"\n\n\"Unfortunately not,\" replied Fringilla. \"Nothing since the last report. Nothing from any attempt at scanning.\"\n\n\"This is bad,\" said Philippa. \"We expected you to find something. Tell us, has the witcher calmed down, at least? Can you keep him in Toussaint until May?\"\n\nFringilla was silent fora moment. She had not the slightest intention of telling the lodge that during the last two weeks the witcher had called her Yennefer twice– and at times, when she had every right to be called by her own name. However the lodge had aright to expect from her the truth. Sincerity. And some useful findings." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No,\" she said at last. \"Probably not until May. But I will do everything in my power to keep him as long as possible.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Korr, a monster from the species-rich family of Strigiformes (qv), depending on the area, also called Kourican, Korreds, Rutterkin, Rumpelstiltskin, Whirlers, or Mesmers. You can say one thing about it-that it is a fiend beyond compare. Such devilishly filthy and abhorrent carrion is it that we will neither remember nor write of its customs or even its appearance, for verily we say unto you: Any word is too good for this son of a bitch.\n\nPhysiologus\n\nThe smell in the great pillared hall of Castle Montecalvo was a mix of old tapestries, smoky candles, and ten different kinds of perfume-ten specially compiled types of perfume that were used by the ten women around the oak table, seated in chairs with arms carved in the shape of sphinxes.\n\nOpposite Fringilla Vigo sat Triss Merigold in a bright blue, high-necked dress. Next to Triss sat Keira Metz, who remained in the shadows. Her large earrings held faceted citrines that flashed again and again with a thousand twinkles, attracting the eye.\n\n\"Please continue, Miss Vigo,\" urged Philippa Eilhart. \"We are in a hurry to hear the end of your story. And to take urgent steps.\"\n\nPhilippa was-for once-not wearing any jewelry except a large cameo made of sardonyx that was fastened to her vermilion dress. Fringilla had heard the rumors already, she knew who had given her the cameo and whose profile it represented.\n\nSeated next to Philippa was Síle de Tansarville, in a dress of all black that sparkled with little diamonds. Margarita Laux-Antille wore burgundy colored satin and thick gold, without stones. Sabrina Glevissig, on the other hand, displayed a necklace, earrings, and her beloved finger rings-the onyx color matched her eyes and clothing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Closest to Fringilla were the two elves-Francesca Findabair and Ida Emean aep Sivney." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Daisy of the Valley usually looked regal, but today exceptionally so. Though neither her hair nor crimson gown displayed excessive pomp and her little tiara and necklace were made not of rubies, but modest, yet tasteful shells. Ida Emean, however, wore a dress of muslin and chiffon, which was decorated in autumnal shades and so fine and light that it waved around in the hardly noticeable breath of air the central heating produced like an anemone.\n\nAssire var Anahid aroused admiration, as usual in recent times, with her modest but distinguished elegance. Over the small, narrow neckline of her dark-green dress, the Nilfgaardian sorceress wore a gold chain and a single, gold framed emerald cabochon. Her manicured nails, which were painted a very dark green, gave the composition a truly magical touch of extravagance.\n\n\"We are waiting, Miss Vigo,\" Síle de Tansarville said. \"Time is short.\"\n\nFringilla cleared her throat. \"December came,\" she continued. \"Then Yule, then the New Year. The witcher calmed down to the point where Ciri's name no longer showed up in every conversation. The monster hunting expeditions, which he regularly undertook, seemed to completely avail him. Well, maybe not completely...\"\n\nShe trailed off. She thought she had seen Triss Merigold's blue eyes flash with hatred. But perhaps it had just been a reflection of the flickering candle flames. Philippa snorted and played with her cameo.\n\n\"Please, there is no need for so much modesty, Miss Vigo. Here, you are among us. Among women who know that sex acts have purposes other than pleasure. We all use these means, when necessary. Please continue.\"\n\n\"Even though he maintained the appearance of reticence, patience, and pride during the daytime,\" continued Fringilla, \"at night he was completely under my power. He told me everything. He paid homage to my femininity, and extremely vigorously for his age, I must confess. And then he fell asleep. In my arms, with his lips on my breast. Looking fora replacement for the mother's love that he had never experienced.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This time, she was sure it was not a reflection of the candle flame. Very well. Envy me if you please, she thought. Envy me. You have every reason to do so.\n\n\"He was,\" she repeated, \"completely under my power.\"\n\n\"Comeback to bed, Geralt. It is not even properly bright, damn it!\"\n\n\"I have an appointment. I have to ride to Pomerol.\"\n\n\"I do not want you to ride to Pomerol.\"\n\n\"I have an appointment. I've given my word. The steward of the estate will be waiting for meat the gate.\"\n\n\"Your monster hunts are foolish and pointless. What do you want to prove by killing another monster from some cave? Your manhood? I know a better way. Come on back to bed. Do not you ride to Pomerol. At least not so soon. The steward can wait, is that not what stewards do? I want to make love to you.\"\n\n\"Forgive me. I do not have time. I have given my word.\"\n\n\"I want to make love to you!\"\n\n\"If you want to keep me company at breakfast, put something on.\"\n\n\"You probably don't love me anymore, Geralt. Do you love me? Answer me!\"\n\n\"Wear that pearl-gray dress with the mink trim. It suits you very well.\"\n\n\"He was completely under my spell, fulfilled my every wish,\" repeated Fringilla. \"He did everything I asked of him. It was so.\"\n\n\"We believe it was so,\" said Síle de Tansarville extremely dryly. \"Please continue.\"\n\nFringilla coughed into her fist. \"The problem,\" she continued, \"was his companions. The strange band that he named his company. Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, who had seen me before and tormented himself to remember where. But he could not remember, because when I was last in Darn Dyffra, the ancestral home of his family, he was six or seven years old. Milva, who seemed to be a daredevil and proud girl, but who I twice caught hiding in a corner of the stables and crying. Angoulême, a moody child. And Regis Terzieff-Godefroy. One type that I could not see through. The whole company had an influence on the witcher, one which I could not stop.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Well, well, she thought, Look at them draw up their eyebrows." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Look at them twist their mouths. Just wait. This is not the end of my story. You will hear of my triumph.\n\n\"Every morning,\" she continued, \"this whole company met in the kitchen, which was located in the basement of the palace of Beauclair. The chef liked them-who knows why. He always had something in store for them, so plentiful and so tasty that breakfast was usually two, sometimes even three hours long. I ate with them many times, alongside Geralt. So I know what kind of absurd conversations they used to hold.\"\n\nTwo chickens walked around the kitchen, one black and the other colorful, gently scratching the floor with their clawed feet. They blinked at the breakfast company and picked up crumbs from the floor.\n\nLike every other morning, the company had gathered in the palace kitchen. The chef liked them, who knows why, and he always had something tasty for them. Today there were scrambled eggs, flour soup, stewed eggplant, rabbit pate, and veal sausages with red beets and goat cheese to top it all off. All of it was excellent and they ate quickly and quietly. Apart from Angoulême, who only whetted her tongue.\n\n\"I'm telling you, we should open a brothel here. After we've done what we need to do, we should comeback here and setup a House of Pleasure. I've had a look around the city. They have everything. I counted nine barbers alone, and eight pharmacies. But they only have one whorehouse, and it's so small and shitty that I wouldn't even call it a whorehouse. No competition. We'll make it a luxurious brothel. Buy a multi-storey house with garden...\"\n\n\"Angouleme, have mercy.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "exclusively for wealthy customers. I will be the Madame. I'm telling you, we will make the big money and live like the great masters. In the end, I will eventually be elected to the council, and then I will certainly not forget about you, because if they elect me, they elect you, and before you can provide yourselves...\"\n\n\"Angouleme, please. Here, eat some bread with pate.\"\n\nFora moment there was silence.\n\n\"What are you hunting today, Geralt? Hard work?\"\n\n\"Eyewitnesses\"-the witcher looked at his plate-\"give conflicting descriptions. So it depends on whether it is a Molding, which is pretty hard work, or a Delichon, which is moderate, or Dudel, which is easy. Perhaps the work will even be too easy, because the last time the monster was seen was last year's Lammas. It may have absconded from Pomerol over the mountains.\"\n\n\"If so, I wish him all the best,\" said Fringilla while gnawing on a goose bone.\n\n\"What is up with Dandelion?\" the witcher said suddenly, \"I haven't seen him for so long that I draw all my knowledge of his activities from the satirical songs they sing in the city.\"\n\n\"We know no more than you.\" Regis smiled with his mouth closed. \"All we know is that our poet is on such familiar terms with the Princess Anarietta that he grants her, even in the presence of witnesses, a fairly familiar cognomen. He calls her his Little Weasel.\"\n\n\"And he's right!\" Angoulême said with her mouth full. \"That princess woman actually does kind of have a weasel nose. Not to mention all those teeth.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Fringilla narrowed her eyes. \"No one is perfect.\"\n\n\"Forsooth.\"\n\nThe chickens, one black and the other colorful, had become so bold that they began to peck at Milva's boots. The Archer swore and knocked them away with a powerful kick.\n\nGeralt watched her fora longtime. Then he decided. \"Maria,\" he said gravely, almost sternly. \"I know that our conversations are not particularly serious and that jokes are not ordained. But you do not need to show us such a sour face. What is wrong?\"\n\n\"It's clear what's wrong,\" said Angoulême. Geralt silenced her with a sharp look. Too late.\n\n\"What the hell do you know then, eh?\" Milva stood up abruptly, almost overturning her chair. \"Damn you! You can kiss my ass, all of you, you understand me?\"\n\nShe grabbed her cup from the table, drank it, and then threw it to the floor without hesitation. Then she ran out of the room and slammed the door.\n\n\"This is serious...\" Angouleme began after a moment, but this time the vampire silenced her.\n\n\"The matter is very serious\", he confirmed. \"I would not, however, have expected such an extreme reaction from our archer. Such as one typically reacts when they get split up with, not when they do the splitting.\"\n\n\"What are you talking about, damn it?\" asked Geralt, unnerved. \"Hey? Would someone mind telling me what this is about?\"\n\n\"The Baron Amadis de Trastamara.\"\n\n\"The pockmarked hunter?\"\n\n\"The very same. He made a request of Milva. To join him on a three day hunt. He has invited her again and again for months...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The hunt\"-Angoulême brazenly flashed her teeth-\"lasted two days. With overnight accommodations in a little hunting lodge, you know what I mean? I put my hand...\"\n\n\"Be quiet, girl. Tell me, Regis.\"\n\n\"He has formally and solemnly asked for her hand. Milva has rejected, apparently in fairly strong terms. The Baron, with the reason of youth, took her rejection to heart, was offended, and left Beauclair immediately. Milva has been running around ever since like she was poisoned.\"\n\n\"We've been sitting here too long,\" muttered the witcher. \"Too long.\"\n\n\"And who says this?\" The previously silent Cahir spoke up. \"Who says this?\"\n\n\"Excuse me.\" The witcher stood up. \"Let's talk about it when I get back. The steward of the Pomerol estate is expecting me. And punctuality is the courtesy of the witcher.\"\n\nAfter Milva's stormy departure, and after the witcher had also left, the rest of the company ate breakfast in silence. The two chickens ran around in the kitchen, one black and the other colorful, gently scratching the floor with their clawed feet.\n\n\"I\", Angoulême finally broke the silence, as she lifted and passed a plate of toast to Fringilla, \"I have got a problem.\"\n\nThe sorceress nodded. \"I understand. It will be okay. How long ago did you have your last menstrual period?\"\n\n\"What makes you say that?\" Angouleme stiffened with a jerk that startled the chickens. \"Nothing like that! It's about something completely different!\"\n\n\"So, goon.\"\n\n\"Geralt wants to leave me here when he sets off again.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Whoa.\"\n\n\"He says\", snorted Angoulême, \"that he cannot bring me into danger, or some such nonsense. But I want to go with him...\"\n\n\"Whoa.\"\n\n\"Don't interrupt me, okay? I want to go with him, with Geralt, because with him I'm not afraid of being caught by the One-Eyed Fulko again, and herein Toussaint...\"\n\n\"Angouleme,\" Regis interrupted her. \"You are speaking in vain. Miss Vigo will listen to you, but she will do nothing about it. Only one thing you've said upsets her: the departure of the witcher.\"\n\n\"Whoa\" repeated Fringilla, turning to face him and narrowing her eyes. \"Is that your favorite subject to allude to, Mr. Terzieff-Godefroy? The departure of the witcher? And when is he departing? May I ask that?\"\n\n\"Maybe not today or tomorrow,\" the vampire replied in a soft voice. \"But certainly one day. Without hurting anyone.\"\n\n\"I am not hurt,\" Fringilla parried coldly. \"Assuming, of course, that you had me in mind. But what concerns you, Angoulême, also concerns me. So I assure you that I will discuss the issue of leaving Toussaint with Geralt. I guarantee that the witcher will know my opinion on this matter.\"\n\n\"Yes, of course you will,\" snorted Cahir. \"How did I know that you would say just that, Miss Fringilla.\"\n\nThe sorceress looked at him fora longtime.\n\n\"The witcher,\" she finally said, \" Should not leave Toussaint. And no one who is well disposed towards him should persuade him to leave. Where could he go that is better than here? He swims in luxury. He has his monsters, which he hunts, earning quite a bit of money. His friend and companion is the favorite of the ruling Princess here, and the Princess herself also values him. Mainly because of the succubus that had plagued the alcoves. Yes, yes, gentlemen. Anarietta and all the well-born ladies of Toussaint are extremely pleased with the" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "witcher. Because the succubus has indeed stopped its visits, as if cutoff. The ladies of Toussaint have also put together a special bonus that will be deposited into the witcher's account with the Cianfanelli Bank in the near future. And multiply the small fortune that he already has there.\"\n\n\"Avery nice gesture on the part of the ladies.\" Regis did not lower his eyes. \"And the reward is well deserved. It is not easy to cause a succubus to stop its visits. Trust me, Miss Fringilla.\"\n\n\"Oh, I believe you. Speaking of which, are you aware that one of the palace guards claims he saw the succubus. At night, on the battlements of the Karoberta Tower. In the company of another ghost. Probably a vampire. Both demons were walking there, swears the guard, and they seemed friendly. Perhaps you know something of it, Mr. Regis? Can you explain it?\"\n\n\"No.\" Regis did not flinch. \"I cannot. There are things between the heavens and earth that even philosophers cannot dream of.\"\n\n\"Undoubtedly, there are such things,\" Fringilla confirmed with a nod of her black-haired head. \"But with regards to the fact that the witcher is supposedly ready to leave-you must know more than me? Because, you see, he has not mentioned any such thing tome, and he usually tells me everything.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" muttered Cahir.\n\nFringilla ignored him. \"Mr. Regis?\"\n\n\"No,\" the vampire said after a short silence. \"No, Miss Fringilla, please rest assured. The witcher by no means gives us more affection and confidence than you. He does not whisper any secrets into our ears that he would hide from you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How then\"-Fringilla was quiet as granite-\"can you make these declarations about his departure?\"\n\nOnce again, the vampire did not flinch. \"Because it is like the youthful, charm filled expression of our lovely Angoulême says: \"Eventually, there comes a time when you either have to shit or get off the toilet.\" In other words...\"\n\n\"Don't bother with the other words,\" Fringilla interrupted him sharply, \"It was charming enough already.\"\n\nFora while there was silence. Both chickens, the black and colorful, walked around and pecked at what was left. Angoulême wiped a smudge of red beet from her nose with her sleeve. The vampire played thoughtfully with a sausage link.\n\n\"Thanks tome,\" Fringilla finally broke the silence, \"Geralt has learned what few people know-Ciri's family tree and the secrets of its origin. Thanks tome, he knows these things that he had no idea about a year ago. Thanks tome he has information, and information is a weapon. Thanks tome and my protection from magical detection, he is protected from the enemy, including assassins. Thanks tome his knee no longer hurts and can bend again. Around his neck, he wears a medallion of my craftsmanship, which might not be as good as his original witcher's medallion, but nevertheless. Thanks tome and only me, he is ready for the spring and summer-he is informed, fed, healthy, and prepared to fight the enemy. If anyone of you here has done more for Geralt, given more to him, then he should say so. I'll willingly pay him tribute.\"\n\nNo one spoke up. The chickens pecked at Cahir's boots, but the young Nilfgaardian ignored them.\n\n\"Indeed,\" he said pointedly, \"none of us has given more to Geralt than you, my lady.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How did I know that you would say just that?\"\n\n\"It's not about that, Miss Fringilla\", the vampire began. The sorceress did not let him.\n\n\"What's it about then?\" She asked aggressively. \"About the fact that he and I are together? About the fact that we have an emotional connection? About the fact that I do not want him to leave now? That I do not want him to decide based on guilt? The same feelings of guilt and atonement that drive you to depart?\"\n\nRegis was silent. Cahir also said nothing. Angouleme looked around; she had obviously not understood much.\n\n\"If it is written in the books of providence\", the sorceress said after awhile, \"that Geralt will find Ciri, then it will happen. Regardless of whether the witcher sets off into the mountains or sits in Toussaint. Predestination overtakes humans. Not vice versa. Do you understand that? Do you understand, Mr. Regis Terzieff-Godefroy?\"\n\n\"Better than you think, Miss Vigo.\" The vampire turned the sausage link in his fingers. \"However, you must excuse me, I do not accept that predestination is in some book, written by the hand of a great Demiurge, or the will of heaven, or the unalterable judgment of any providence. Rather, it is the result of many seemingly unconnected facts, events, and actions. I tend to agree with you that the predestination overtakes humans... and not only humans. However, I accept much less the view that it could not also be reversed. Because this view is a convenient fatalism. It is a paean to apathy and baseness on a feather bed and the charming warmth of a woman's womb. In short, to live in a dream. Life, Miss Vigo maybe a dream, may end in a dream... But it's a dream that you must actively dream. Therefore, Miss Vigo, the road awaits us.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Go ahead.\" Fringilla stood up, almost as violent as Milva had recently. \"As you wish! Snow, cold, and predetermination await you on the passes. And the atonement that you so urgently seem to need. Go ahead! But the witcher is staying here. In Toussaint! With me!\"\n\n\"I believe,\" the vampire replied calmly, \"You are mistaken, Miss Vigo. The dream you dream with the witcher is, I confess with a bow, magical and beautiful. However, any dream that we dream for too long becomes a nightmare. And from it we awake with a scream.\"\n\nThe nine women who were seated at the large table in Castle Montecalvo stared fixedly at Fringilla Vigo. At Fringilla, who had suddenly begun to stutter.\n\n\"Geralt rode on the morning of January eighth to the Pomerol estate. And he came back... well... on the eighth night, or on the ninth morning... I do not know... I'm not sure...\"\n\n\"Keep it together\" Síle de Tansarville gently requested. \"Please, keep it together, Miss Vigo. And if any detail of the story is too embarrassing, then just move on.\"\n\nThe colorful chicken ran around the kitchen, gently scratching the floor with its clawed feet. It smelled broth.\n\nThe door opened with a bang. Geralt stormed into the kitchen. His windswept face displayed a blue bruise and purplish-black stripes of dried blood.\n\n\"Come on, people, pack up,\" he announced without any unnecessary preliminaries. \"We're leaving! In one hour, and not a moment later, I will see you all on the hill outside the city, where the column stands. With bags and baggage, in the saddle, ready fora long and difficult path.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That was enough. It was as if they had been waiting for this message and had been ready fora longtime.\n\n\"Immediately,\" Milva cried, jumping up. \"I'll be done in half an hour!\"\n\n\"Me too.\" Cahir let his spoon fall, stood up, and looked at the witcher carefully. \"But I'd like to know what this is. A whim? A lover's quarrel? Or are we truly leaving?\"\n\n\"Really. Angoulême, why are you making that face?\"\n\n\"Geralt, I...\"\n\n\"Don't worry. I'm not leaving you behind. I've changed my mind. But you must be careful, brat; you must not leave my sight. Goon, I said, grab your saddlebags and pack. And individually, in order not to attract attention from the city to the column on the hill. We meet therein one hour.\"\n\n\"Absolutely, Geralt,\" exclaimed Angoulême. \"Damn, finally!\"\n\nIn no time Geralt and the colorful chicken were all that remained in the kitchen. And the vampire, who was quietly stirring his broth with noodles.\n\n\"Are you waiting fora special invitation?\" Asked the witcher coldly. \"Why are you still sitting here? Instead of packing the mule Draakul? And saying goodbye to the succubus?\"\n\n\"Geralt,\" Regis said calmly, taking a spoonful of soup from the tureen. \"It will take me just as long to part with the succubus as it will for you to part with your black-haired girl. Assuming that you intend to say goodbye to her. But just between you and me: you can send the young people out to pack up their things with shouting and noise, but I deserve something more, for reasons of age. Please, grant me a few words of explanation.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Regis...\"\n\n\"A statement Geralt. The sooner you start, the better. I'll help you. Yesterday morning, you met the steward of the Pomerol Winery at the city gate as agreed...\"\n\nAlcides Fierabras, the black-bearded steward of the Pomerol Winery, who the witcher had met in the'Pheasantry\" on the night before Yule, was waiting at the city gate with a mule; He, however, was dressed and equipped as they were travelling far, faraway to the end the world, beyond the Solveiga Gate and the Elskerdeg Pass.\n\n\"It really is not close,\" he replied to a snappy remark Geralt had made. \"You, sir, come from the big wide world and think of our small Toussaint as a little hamlet; you think you could throw a hat from one boundary to the other. But you are wrong. The Pomerol Vineyard, where we indeed want to go, is a good ways away and we can be happy if we are thereby lunch.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" the witcher said dryly, \"we shouldn't have arranged to leave so late.\"\n\n\"Yeah, maybe.\" Alcides Fierabras stared at him and blew into his mustache. \"But I didn't know you were one of the early birds. Because that is rare in nobles.\"\n\n\"I'm not a noble. Let's be on our way, sir, we needn't lose anytime in idle talk.\"\n\n\"You took the words right out of my mouth.\"\n\nThey rode through the city to shorten the path. Geralt initially wanted to protest-he was afraid of getting stuck in the crowded streets known to him. However, the steward Fierabras, as it turned out, knew both the city better and the days when there was no crowding on the streets. They rode easily and quickly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They rode into the market and passed the scaffold. And the gallows, decorated by a hanging body.\n\n\"It's a dangerous thing\"-the steward pointed outwith a nod– \"to forge rhymes and sing ditties. Especially in public.\"\n\n\"Severe.\" Geralt instantly recognized what he meant. \"In other places, the maximum penalty for libel is the pillory.\"\n\n\"It depends on whom the libel is about, and if it is true\", said Alcides Fierabras soberly. \"And how it was rhymed. Our princess is kind woman and is loved by the people, but if someone provokes her...\"\n\n\"Songs, as one of my friends likes to say, you cannot suffocate.\"\n\n\"Songs, you cannot suffocate. But the singer, you can suffocate perfectly well.\"\n\nThey crossed the city and rode out the Cooper's Gate, straight into the valley of the Blessure River, which cheerfully splashed and foamed in rapids. On the fields, snow lay only in gullies and depressions, but it was quite cold.\n\nA troop of knights passed them, certainly on their way to Cervantes Pass, to the border fortress of Vedette. The front of their shields and coats were very colorfully painted and embroidered with griffins, lions, hearts, lilies, stars, crosses, and other heraldic nonsense. Their hooves thundered, their banners fluttered, and their powerful voices sung an idiotic song about a thing or two that happens to a knight when he is awarded a bride.\n\nGeralt followed the party with his eyes. The sight of the knight-errants left him thinking of Reynart de Bois-Fresnes, who had just returned home from the service and was restoring his strength in the arms of his middle-class woman. Her husband, a merchant, hadn't returned home for days, probably held back by foaming rivers, forests full of wildlife, and other natural forces. The witcher could by no means imagine tearing Reynart from the arms of his mistress, but he honestly regretted that the contract with the Pomerol Winery wasn't set on a later date. He liked the knight and missed his company." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Let's ride, Mr. Witcher.\"\n\n\"Let's ride, Mr. Fierabras.\"\n\nThey followed the road up the river. The Blessure River twisted and meandered, but there were plenty of bridges, so they didn't need to make any detours.\n\nSteam rose from the nostrils of the horses and the mule.\n\n\"Do you think the winter will last long, Mr. Fierabras?\"\n\n\"There was frost on Saovine. And the saying goes:\" Frost on Saovine– better put your warm pants on. ' \"\n\n\"I see. And your vines? Doesn't the cold harm them?\"\n\n\"It's been colder.\"\n\nThey rode on in silence.\n\n\"Look there,\" Fierabras pointed. \"Therein the valley lies the village of Fox Hollow. It's hard to believe, but their fields grow pots and pans.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Pots and pans. They arise from the bosom of the earth, of course, entirely naturally, with no human intervention. Pots and pans grow in Fox Hollow, as potatoes or beets grow elsewhere. All kinds and shapes.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"May I drop dead if it's not true. That's why Fox Hollow established a partnership with the village of Dudno in Maecht. For there, the earth blossoms with lids.\"\n\n\"All kinds and shapes?\"\n\n\"You, Mr. Witcher, hit the mark.\"\n\nThey rode on. Silently. The Blessure River roared and foamed over the stones.\n\n\"And look there, Mr. Witcher. Those are the ruins of the ancient fortress of Dun Tynne. That castle has witnessed terrible things, if you believe the legend. Waltharius, called the Heavy Handed, tortured and viciously murdered his unfaithful wife, her lover, her mother, her sister, and her brother. And then he sat down and cried, no one knows why...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I've heard of it.\"\n\n\"Have you been there then?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Ha. The legend has traveled far and wide.\"\n\n\"You, Mr. Steward, hit the mark.\"\n\n\"And there\"-the witcher pointed-\"the pretty little tower behind the terrible castle? What is that?\"\n\n\"That? That is a temple.\"\n\n\"For what god?\"\n\n\"Who remembers a thing like that.\"\n\n\"Indeed. Who does nowadays.\"\n\nAround noon, they saw the winery. It was situated on the slopes of the valley of the Blessure River and covered by evenly cropped vines, now wizened and bald. On the summit of the highest hill, windswept towers rose towards the sky, belonging to the thick and round Castle Pomerol.\n\nGeralt noted with interest that the path leading to the castle was churned up by hooves and carriage wheels just as much as the highway. It was clear someone had been heavily using the road to the castle. He bit back his curiosity up to the moment that he saw a dozen huge, robust, canvas-covered wagons, like those used for long distance transport.\n\n\"Merchants,\" said the steward in reply to his question. \"Wine merchants.\"\n\n\"Merchants?\" Geralt was surprised. \"How so? I thought the mountain passes are blocked by snow and Toussaint is cutoff from the outside world. So how have the merchants reached here?\"\n\n\"For merchants\", the steward Fierabras said profoundly, \"there are no blocked passes or bad roads-at least not for those who take their job seriously. They, Mr. Witcher, have such a principle: When a goal beckons, away must be found.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Indeed,\" Geralt said slowly, \"an admirable principle, one which we should emulate." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In all situations.\"\n\n\"Without a doubt. But in truth, the fact of the matter is that some of the merchants have been stuck here since fall and cannot get out. But they don't hang their heads; they say'Pah, now we will be the first ones herein the spring, before the competition shows up\". They call this principle:\"positive thinking. '\"\n\nGeralt nodded. \"One can hardly object to this principle. Though one thing still amazes me, Mr. Steward. Why are these merchants sitting out here and not in Beauclair? Is the princess not willing to grant them the right to hospitality? Does she perhaps have something against these merchants?\"\n\n\"Not at all\", replied Fierabras. \"The princess increasingly extends invitations to them, and they increasingly and politely reject them. And stay at the winery.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"They say that Beauclair is home to perpetual banquets, balls, feasts, revelry, and flirtation. They say those activities are just lazy, stupid, and a waste of time that could be spent thinking about business. They say you have to focus on what is really important. On the goal that beckons you, constantly. Incessantly. Without wasting any thoughts on frippery. Then and only then can you reach your goal.\"\n\n\"Truly, Mr. Fierabras,\" the witcher said slowly. \"I'm thankful for our common journey. Our conversations were very beneficial tome. Really.\"\n\nContrary to the expectations of the witcher, they rode not to Castle Pomerol, but a little further onto the ridge behind the valley, where the next castle stood, a little smaller and much more neglected. This was Castle Zurbarran. Geralt was looking forward to the prospect of getting to do something soon, because the dark, serrated battlements of ruined Zurbarran looked like a textbook example of a haunted ruin, which was no doubt swarming with magic, marvels, and monsters." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When they reached the courtyard however, instead of marvels and monsters he saw a dozen people at such magical pursuits as rolling barrels, planing boards, and nailing these boards together. It smelled of fresh wood, fresh mortar, a few less fresh cats, sour wine, and pea soup. The pea soup was served immediately.\n\nThe wind and cold during their journey had made them hungry, and they ate quickly and silently. One of Steward Fierabras' subordinates in the company made it for them. It was served by two light-haired girls with braids a good three feet long. Both stared at the witcher so provocatively that he decided to eat as quickly as possible and get to work.\n\nSimon Gilka had not seen the monster. He knew its appearance exclusively from secondhand stories.\n\n\"It was black, ha, pitch black, and when it crawled across the wall, you could seethe bricks through it. It was like a jelly, you know what I mean, Mr. Witcher, or maybe something like a glob of snot. But it had long legs, and a lot of them, eight or even more. And Yontek stood there, stood there and watched, until he finally wised up and screamed, \"Get away, Get yourself away!\" and an exorcism too: \"Thee shalt croak, you son of a bitch!\" And then the monster went darting! Whoosh, whoosh, up and away. Into the depths of the abyss and was gone. And the boys says: If there's a monster here, we want hazard pay, and if we don't get it, we'll complain to our union. Your union, I tell them, can go and...\"\n\n\"When\", interrupted Geralt, \"was the monster was last seen?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Three weeks ago. So just before Yule.\"\n\nThe witcher looked at the steward. \"You told me it hasn't been seen since Lammas.\"\n\nAlcides Fierabras blushed at the points that weren't covered by his beard.\n\nGilka snorted. \"Well, well, Mr. Steward, if you want to manage, you have to be around more often, you can't just sit at the office in Beauclair, polishing the chairs with your butt. I think...\"\n\n\"I'm not interested,\" Fierabras cut him off fiercely, \"in what you think. Tell the story of the monster.\"\n\n\"I've already told it. That's all there was.\"\n\n\"There have been no victims? No one has been attacked?\"\n\n\"No. But last year a servant disappeared without a trace. Some said the monster dragged him to the depths and killed him. Others said that it certainly wasn't any monster, but that the servant had killed himself, because of debts and payments. The fact is that he played dice like the devil, and then he had a child with the miller's daughter, and she has since gone to court and the court ordered the servant to make support payments...\"\n\n\"So,\" Geralt interrupted, \"the monster hasn't attacked anyone? And no one has seen it since?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nOne of the local girls pouring wine brushed Geralt's ear with her breast and winked encouragingly.\n\n\"Let's go,\" Geralt said quickly. \"There's no reason to dawdle and talk. Lead me to the cellar.\"\n\nUnfortunately, it turned out that Fringilla's amulet could not fulfill the hopes he had placed in it. Geralt had not believed fora moment that the polished chrysoprase could replace his" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "silver, witcher's wolf medallion. Fringilla had not promised anything like that at all. However, she had assured him-with great conviction-that the amulet, once attuned to the mind of the wearer, could do different things, including warning the wearer of danger.\n\nBut either Fringilla's magic had failed, or Geralt and the amulet had different views of what was dangerous and what was not. On his way to the cellar, the chrysoprase shrugged almost imperceptibly when a large orange cat ran in front of him, lifted its tail rebelliously, and defiled the yard. The cat must have received some signal from the amulet, because it jumped away and gave a penetrating meow.\n\nBut when the witcher entered the cellar, the medallion started vibrating annoyingly, over and over, in the dry, neat, clean storage rooms where the only danger emanated from the large wine casks. Someone who lay down with no self-control and his mouth open under the casket might have been threatened with severe intoxication. But nothing more.\n\nOn the other hand, the medallion did not flinch when Geralt left the still used part of the cellar, descended the stairs, and entered the long, deep tunnels. The witcher had long since realized that most of the vineyards of Toussaint had old mines below them. No doubt as the planted vines began to bear fruit and yield better profits, the exploitation of mines had been abandoned to create tunnels and corridors that could be used as wine cellars. The castles Pomerol and Zurbarran stood on top of an old slate mine. It was swarming with tunnels and holes; it would only take a moment's inattention to end up at the bottom of a hole with broken bones. Some of the holes were covered by rotten boards that were so thoroughly coated in layers of shale dust that they were indistinguishable from the ground. The area was very dangerous so he needed the medallion to warn him. It didn't." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It didn't even warn him when an indistinct gray figure jumped out from a pile of slate rubble ten steps in front of Geralt, kicked up dust with its claws and wildly wringing legs, gave a piercing wail, ran down the tunnel whistling and giggling, and disappeared into a gaping hole in the wall.\n\nThe witcher cursed. The magic trinket reacted to orange cats, but it didn't respond to Gremlins. I'll have to talk with Fringilla about it, he thought as he walked towards the hole where the little creature had disappeared.\n\nThe amulet twitched vigorously.\n\nA bit late, he thought. But immediately afterwards he thought better of it. Perhaps the medallion was not so stupid. The usual tactic of Gremlins was to flee and then ambush their pursuers with a blow from its sickle-sharp claws. The Gremlin waiting in the dark-that was what the medallion signaled.\n\nHe waited and waited, holding his breath, pricking his ears alert. The amulet was quiet and lifeless on his chest. A dull, unpleasant odor emanated from the hole. But it was dead silent. And no Gremlin would have stayed silent for so long.\n\nWithout thinking, he ducked into the hole and crawled on all fours, scraping his back against the rough rock. He did not travel very far.\n\nSomething began to creak and snapped. Then the floor gave way and down fell the witcher-along with several hundred pounds of dust and debris. Luckily he didn't fall for long-it was not a bottomless pit, but a normal dungeon. He shot out like shit from the sewer pipe and smashed into a pile of rotten wood. He spit something out, shook the dust from his hair, and swore very blasphemously. The amulet shook incessantly, it trembled on his chest like a sparrow inserted under his shirt. The witcher resisted the impulse to tear it off and throw it away into the darkness, never to seen again. First, Fringilla would have been furious. Second, the chrysoprase was supposed to have other magical properties. Geralt hoped it would be more reliable at the others." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ashe started to stand, he groped around skull. And he realized that what he had crashed into was by no means a pile of wood.\n\nHe stood up and quickly studied the pile of bones. They were all human. All these people were in chains at the moment of their deaths, and had most likely been naked. Their bones were crushed and chewed. They might have already been dead when they were bitten. But he was not sure.\n\nA corridor led out of the tunnel, long and straight. The slate wall had been processed very smoothly– it no longer looked like amine.\n\nIt ended suddenly in a huge cavity, whose ceiling sank in the obscure darkness. The center of the cavern was a huge, black, bottomless pit, above which hung a dangerous, delicate-looking, stone bridge.\n\nWater dripped from the walls, echoing. A cold stench blew from the abyss. The amulet was quiet. Geralt stepped onto the bridge, alert and focused, trying to stay away from the crumbling balustrades.\n\nAfter the bridge came another corridor. On the smooth processed walls, he noticed rusted torch brackets. There were also niches here; some were filled with small statues made of sandstone, but over the years the dripping water had worn them down to shapeless boulders. Plates and reliefs had also been inserted into the walls. He was able to identify this sturdier material better. Geralt saw a woman with a horned moon, a tower, a swallow, a boar, a dolphin, and a unicorn.\n\nHe heard a voice.\n\nHe stopped and held his breath.\n\nThe amulet twitched.\n\nNo, it was no illusion; it wasn't the crunch of slate rubble or the echo of dripping water. It was a human voice. Geralt closed his eyes and strained his hearing. He tried to pinpoint the noise." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The witcher could have sworn that the voice came from the next niche, from behind a statue that was worn down, but not so much that it had lost the rounded shape of a woman. It stood equal to the height of his medallion. It flashed, and Geralt suddenly noticed a reflection in the wall. He vigorously hugged the woman with his arms, and sharply turned her. It creaked, then the whole niche turned on a steel hinge and revealed a spiral staircase.\n\nThe voice sounded again, from the top of the stairs. Geralt did not hesitate.\n\nAt the top he found a door that opened without any resistance, not even squeak. Behind the door was a small room with a vaulted ceiling. Four enormous brass tubes towered on the walls, their ends were expanded like trumpets. In the middle, between the openings of the tubes, stood an armchair, and on that armchair sat a skeleton. On its skull, slid down to its teeth, hung the remains of a beret. Its body carried fragments of once-rich clothes, now eaten away. Around its neck hung a gold chain. Its feet rested in high topped boots, strongly corroded by rats.\n\nFrom one of the tubes came a sneeze, so loud and unexpected that the witcher almost jumped. Then someone blew their nose, and the amplified sound from the brass tube was downright hellish.\n\n\"Bless you\", came out of the tube. \"That was some sneeze, Skellen.\"\n\nGeralt moved the skeleton out of the chair, without forgetting to first remove its gold chain and stick it in his pocket. Then he sat down at the listening space. At the opening of the tube.\n\nOne of the men Geralt was eavesdropping on had a bass voice, deep and booming. When he spoke, the brass tube actually vibrated." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That was some sneeze, Skellen. Where did you get such a cold? And when?\"\n\n\"Not worth talking about\", said the sneezer. \"Some damned disease has caught me and adheres. As soon as I get rid of it, it comes right back. Not even magic helps.\"\n\n\"Maybe you should change magicians?\" Said the next voice, creaking like a rusty hinge. \"Truly, this Vilgefortz can't yet point to any particularly great successes. I think...\"\n\n\"Forget it,\" interjected one who stretched his syllables in a characteristic way. \"That is not the reason we have organized this meeting herein Toussaint. In the middle of nowhere, in the ass of the world.\"\n\n\"This ass of the world,\" said the sneezer, \"is the only country I know of that does not have its own security service. The only corner of the empire that is not riddled with agents of Vattier de Rideaux. This principality is seen by all as a hilarious and perpetually drunken state operetta, which nobody takes seriously.\"\n\n\"Such little countries,\" said the syllable stretcher, \"have always been havens for spies, and their preferred venues. Therefore, they attract counterintelligence service and spies, eavesdroppers, and all sorts of private detectives.\"\n\n\"That may have once been the case.\" said the sneezer'But not under the rule of a woman, which has lasted for almost one hundred years in Toussaint. I repeat, we are safe here. Here, no one will track us down or overhear us. We can act as merchants and calmly discuss the questions that are of vital interest for your princely graces. For your personal assets and estates.\"\n\n\"Truly, I hate private interests!\" ranted the creaking. \"We are not here for personal reasons! I am concerned solely about the good of the Empire. And the good of the Empire, gentlemen, is in a strong dynasty! Therefore, it would be a great evil and harmful for the kingdom if any mongrel, any spoiled scion of bad blood ascends the throne, a descendant of the physically sick and morally inferior kings. No, gentlemen! I, a De Wett of the family De Wett, will not standby idly and watch! In addition, my daughter was promised...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Your daughter, De Wett?\" roared the booming bass voice. \"And what about me? I, who at the time supported Emhyr in the fight against the usurper? It was my residence from which the cadets launched their assault on the palace! And what did that earn me! At that time, the swindler looked at my little Eilan, smiled graciously at her, complimented her, and took her behind a curtain, I know, to feel her tits. And now what-another empress! Such an affront? Such shame? The emperor of the eternal empire, who prefers the daughters of Cintra to those of the ancient families! What? He sits on the throne by my grace and dares to reject my Eilan? No, I will not tolerate it!\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" cried another voice, high and exalted. \"He has disrespected me, too! Leaving my wife for this Cintran nobody!\"\n\n\"By a lucky coincidence,\" said the syllable stretcher, \"the nobody has been promoted into the afterlife. As follows the report of Mr. Skellen.\"\n\n\"I've listened to this report very attentively,\" said the creaky, \"and I've concluded it follows that the nobody has simply disappeared. And if she has simply disappeared, then she may yet reappear. Because she disappeared and reappeared several times last year! Truly, Mr. Skellen, you have disappointed us. You and your magician, this Vilgefortz!\"\n\n\"But now is not the right moment, Joachim!\" said the bass'Now is not the time to blame each other and to accuse, to drive wedges between us! We must be strong and united. And determined. Therefore, it is unimportant whether the Cintran is alive or not. An emperor who insults the old families with impunity once, will continue to do so in the future! The Cintran has disappeared? Then in a few months he can present an empress of Zerrikanian or Sangwebarian origin! No, by the Great Sun, we cannot let him!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Truly, we cannot!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Right you are, Ardal!\" said the creaky. \" The Emreis dynasty has been a disappointment ever since they took the throne. Each moment Emhyr sits on the throne does\n\nthe empire harm, truly. And there is someone else who could sit the throne. The young Voorhis...\"\n\nAloud sneeze rang out like a trumpet.\n\n\"Constitutional monarchy\", said the sneezer. \"It is high time fora constitutional monarchy, a progressive order. And then democracy... a government of the people...\"\n\n\"Emperor Voorhis,\" repeated the bass voice with emphasis. \"Emperor Voorhis, Stefan Skellen. He will be married with my daughter Eilan, or with one of Joachim's. And then I will be the Chancellor of the Crown and De Wett will be the Field Marshal. And you, Stefan-the Foreign Minister and a count. If you abandon your idea of granting titles and offices to the peasants. What?\"\n\n\"Forgot about historical development,\" the sneezer's voice said soothingly. \"For the moment, at least. First, let me draw Your Excellency Chancellor aep Dahy's attention to the person of Prince Voorhis-mainly the fact that he is a man of iron character, proud and stubborn, who will be difficult to influence.\"\n\n\"If I can make a comment,\" the syllable stretcher came forward to speak. \"Prince Voorhis has a son, the little Morvran. He is afar better candidate. First, he has a better claim to the throne, both on his fraternal side and maternal side. Second, he is a child, so the Regency Council will rule in his place. So, us.\"\n\n\"Nonsense! We will deal with the father! We will find away!\" said the bass." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We push,\" suggested the exalted, \"my wife under him!\"\n\n\"Be still, Count Broinne. That is not what we are talking about.\" said the creaky'Gentlemen, we should discuss other matters, truly. I would like to point out that Emhyr var Emreis still prevails.\"\n\n\"Of course\", agreed the sneezer and trumpeted into his handkerchief. \"He lives and reigns. He is at his peak, both physically and mentally. The latter, especially, cannot be disputed, after he has gotten rid of both your highnesses-along with any troops that would have been faithful to you. How will you accomplish a revolution, my Lord Prince Ardal, if you have to spend each moment overseeing the Eastern Division of the army in battle? And Prince Joachim will probably have to be with his troops in the Verden Special Operational Group.\"\n\n\"Spare me the tips, Stefan Skellen.\" said the creaky. \"And pulling that face only makes you look similar to your magician Vilgefortz in your imagination. And you should know, Owl, that if Emhyr really does get suspicious, it will be because of you-you and Vilgefortz. Admit it, you tried to catch the Cintran and buy Emhyr's favor with her? Now that the girl is dead, you no longer have anything to offer, right? Emhyr would quarter you, truly. You will not raise your hand against us, neither you nor the magician with whom you have allied yourself!\"\n\n\"No one of us will raise our hands, Joachim,\" put in the bass. \"We need to look the truth in the face. We are in no better position than Skellen. The circumstances have brought us together. We are all in the same boat now.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But the Owl was the one who put us in this boat!\" shouted the creaky'Why do we have to act secretly now? Emhyr knows everything! Vattier de Rideaux's agents search the whole empire for the Owl. And he has gotten rid of us, truly, sent us to war!\"\n\n\"Exactly\", the syllable stretcher, \"And you should take advantage of that. I can assure you gentlemen, everyone is fed up with the war currently underway. The army, the common people, and especially the merchants and entrepreneurs. The mere fact that the war is over will cause joy throughout the entire empire, regardless of how the war ends. Gentlemen, military leaders influence the course of the war, so, if I may say so, the end is always within reach. What is easier than to taking credit as heroes for ending an armed conflict in victory? And in case of defeat, as men who, sent by providence, negotiated an end to the bloodshed?\"\n\n\"True,\" said the creaking after awhile. \"By the Great Sun, that is true. You're right, Mr. Leuvaarden.\"\n\n\"Emhyr,\" said the bass, \"wrapped the rope around his neck when he sent us to the front.\"\n\n\"Emhyr,\" said the exalted, \"is still alive, my lord Prince. He is alive and doing well. We do not want to split the skin of the bear.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the bass. \"Not before we kill the bear.\"\n\nThe silence lasted along time.\n\n\"So an assassination attempt. Death.\"\n\n\"Death.\"\n\n\"Death!\"\n\n\"Death. It is the only solution. Emhyr has followers as long as he lives. When Emhyr dies, everyone will support us. The aristocracy will side with us, because we are part of the aristocracy, and the power of the aristocracy lies in solidarity. A significant part of the army will be on our side, especially the officer corps, who still remember Emhyr's purges after the defeat of Sodden. The people will be on our side...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Because the people are ignorant, stupid, and easy to manipulate,\" Skellen finished the sentence, after he had himself a sneeze. \"You need only \"Hurrah!\" and make a speech from the senate steps promising to open the prisons and cut the taxes.\"\n\n\"You are absolutely right, Owl,\" said the syllable stretcher. \"Now I know why you shout so loudly for democracy.\"\n\n\"I warn you,\" creaked the man they called Joachim, \"that everything will not go as smoothly as it sounds, gentlemen. Our whole plan is based on the death of Emhyr. But we must not close our eyes to the fact that Emhyr has many followers, he has the units in the main army, and he has a fanatical guard. It will not be easy to pass through the Imperial Guard and strike at the Emperor, because, have no illusions, they will fight to the death.\"\n\n\"And here,\" declared Stefan Skellen, \"Vilgefortz offers us his help. We will not have to besiege the palace, and we will not have to fight through the Imperial Guard. The thing can be done by a single assassin with magical protection. As in Dreiberg, just before the mages coupon Thanedd.\"\n\n\"King of Radovid of Redania.\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Vilgefortz has as an assassin?\"\n\n\"Yes. To prove our trust, gentlemen, I will tell you who it is. The sorceress Yennefer, who we've imprisoned.\"\n\n\"Imprisoned? I've heard that Yennefer worked with Vilgefortz willingly.\"\n\n\"She is his prisoner. Bewitched and hypnotized, programmed like a golem, she will execute the assassination. Then she will commit suicide.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Some magical witch doesn't quite suit me,\" said the one who extended the syllables, extending them even more out of sheer disgust." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A hero would be better, a blazing champion of an idea, an avenger...\"\n\n\"An avenger\" interrupted Skellen. \"Fits like a glove, Mr. Leuvaarden. Yennefer will avenge the suffering that was inflicted by the tyrant. Emhyr has persecuted and driven to death her girl, an innocent child. This cruel tyrant, this pervert, has persecuted and murdered children instead of taking care of empire. Therefore, he will be overtaken by the avenging hand...\"\n\n\"I\", announced Ardal aep Dahy's bass voice, \"I like it very well.\"\n\n\"Me too,\" agreed to Joachim De Wett.\n\n\"Wonderful!\" shouted the eccentric Count Broinne. \"For the rape of foreign women, the avenging hand will overtake the tyrant and pervert. Wonderful!\"\n\n\"One more thing,\" said Leuvaarden, stretching his syllables. \"To guarantee your trust, Lord Skellen, I'll ask you to please betray to us the whereabouts of Mr. Vilgefortz.\"\n\n\"Gentlemen, I... I cannot...\"\n\n\"That is why it would be a guarantee. A pledge of the sincerity and devotion to the cause.\"\n\n\"You need not fear betrayal, Stefan,\" added aep Dahy. \"None here will betray you. This is a paradox. In other circumstances, someone among us might even try to buy his life by betraying the rest. But all of us know only too well that they would buy nothing with the betrayal. Emhyr var Emreis does not forgive. He cannot. Instead of a heart he has a lump of ice. And therefore, all will be killed.\"\n\nStefan Skellen no longer hesitated. \"Okay,\" he said. \"As a pledge of sincerity. Vilgefortz is hidden at the...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The witcher sat at the opening of the tube and clenched his fists until they hurt. He strained his hearing. And his memory.\n\nThe witcher's doubts concerning Fringilla's amulet were unjustified and vanished in a moment. When he returned the great cavern and approached the stone bridge over the abyss, the medallion began to jerk on his neck and struggle, not like a sparrow, but more like a large and powerful bird. Let's say, a crow.\n\nGeralt froze. He calmed the amulet. He did not make the slightest movement, so that no rustle, not even a breath, could deceive his hearing. He waited. He knew that on the other side of the abyss, beyond the bridge, there was something, something that was lurking in the dark. He did not rule out that it could also be concealed behind his back, and that the bridge might be a trap. He was not going to walk into this trap. He waited. And not in vain.\n\n\"Hail, Witcher,\" he heard. \"We are waiting for you here.\"\n\nThe voice that came out of the darkness sounded strange and alien. But Geralt had heard voices like it more than once, he knew them. Thus spoke beings that were not used to communicating with the aid of articulate speech. Although they were able to use the apparatus of the lungs, diaphragm, trachea, and throat, these creatures could not use completely the articulation apparatus, even though their lips, palate, and tongues were built very similar to humans. Such beings accentuated their spoken words not only strangely and proudly, but also with sounds that are uncomfortable to the human ear-hard and ugly barking or soft and slimy hissing.\n\n\"We are waiting for you here,\" repeated the voice. \"We knew that you would come if we fed you with rumors. That you would come crawl under the earth, to search, to hunt, to track, to kill. But you will not leave here. You will never again seethe sun that is so dear to you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Show yourself.\"\n\nIn the darkness beyond the bridge, something moved. The darkness seemed to aggregate in one place and took on an almost human form. The creature seemed to never remain in the same position or at the same location fora moment; it changed it by using faster, more nervous, blurred motion. The witcher had seen such creatures before.\n\n\"A Korr,\" he stated calmly. \"I should have expected to seethe likes of you here. It's a miracle that I didn't find you earlier.\"\n\n\"Take a look at you.\" The unnatural voice of the creature sounded mocking. \"In the dark, and still you recognized me. And do you recognize that? And that? And that?\"\n\nFrom the darkness emerged three more creatures, silently as ghosts. One, who had been hiding behind the Korr's back, also had the general shape and appearance of a humanoid, but it was more stocky, hunched, and ape-like. Geralt knew it was a Killmouli.\n\nThe other two monsters were hiding, as he had correctly guessed, behind the bridge, ready to cutoff his retreat if he had stepped onto the bridge. The first, on the left, resembled a giant spider, it stood in place while flexing its many legs. It was a Molding. The last creature reminded him of a candelabra, it liked something that had jumped straight out of the broken slate wall. Geralt could not say what it was. No such monster was recorded in the witcher books.\n\n\"I want no quarrel with you\", he said, and putting a little hope in the fact that the creatures had begun with conversation, rather than just going for his jugular in the dark. \"I want no quarrel with you. But if it comes to that, I will defend myself.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We have taken that into account,\" the Korr said, hissing. \"That is why we are four. That is why we have lured you here. You poison our lives, fucking witchers. The most beautiful holes in this part of the world, wonderful places to hibernate. We've spent the winter here almost since the beginning of time. And now you show up hereto prey onus, you wretch. In order track us, hunt us, and kill us for money. But no more. Not from you.\"\n\n\"Listen, Korr...\"\n\n\"Politely,\" snarled the creature. \"I do not tolerate insolence.\"\n\n\"So how am Ito address you...?\"\n\n\"Mr. Schweitzer.\"\n\n\"Well, Mr. Schweitzer,\" continued Geralt, seemingly obedient, \"here is the thing. I have, I will not hide it, come here as a witcher with a witcher's job. I propose to let that subject rest. However, something happened in this cave, something that has changed the situation diametrically. I've learned something unusually important for me. Something that can change my whole life.\"\n\n\"And what will follow from this?\"\n\n\"I need\"-Geralt was a model of composure and patience-\"to immediately get to the surface and to immediately set off fora long journey, without the slightest delay. A journey from which there might be no return. I do not think I will ever... return to this area...\"\n\n\"Trying to buy you your life, witcher?\" hissed Mr. Schweitzer. \"No use. You ask in vain. We've got you in a bind and will not let you out. We will kill you and think not only of ourselves, but also of our other comrades. We will kill you, if I may say so, for both our and their freedom.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Move the narrative forward in collaboration with the writer.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 5" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We have taken that into account,\" the Korr said, hissing. \"That is why we are four. That is why we have lured you here. You poison our lives, fucking witchers. The most beautiful holes in this part of the world, wonderful places to hibernate. We've spent the winter here almost since the beginning of time. And now you show up hereto prey onus, you wretch. In order track us, hunt us, and kill us for money. But no more. Not from you.\"\n\n\"Listen, Korr...\"\n\n\"Politely,\" snarled the creature. \"I do not tolerate insolence.\"\n\n\"So how am Ito address you...?\"\n\n\"Mr. Schweitzer.\"\n\n\"Well, Mr. Schweitzer,\" continued Geralt, seemingly obedient, \"here is the thing. I have, I will not hide it, come here as a witcher with a witcher's job. I propose to let that subject rest. However, something happened in this cave, something that has changed the situation diametrically. I've learned something unusually important for me. Something that can change my whole life.\"\n\n\"And what will follow from this?\"\n\n\"I need\"-Geralt was a model of composure and patience-\"to immediately get to the surface and to immediately set off fora long journey, without the slightest delay. A journey from which there might be no return. I do not think I will ever... return to this area...\"\n\n\"Trying to buy you your life, witcher?\" hissed Mr. Schweitzer. \"No use. You ask in vain. We've got you in a bind and will not let you out. We will kill you and think not only of ourselves, but also of our other comrades. We will kill you, if I may say so, for both our and their freedom.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'll not only never comeback to this area\", Geralt continued patiently, \"but will give up all my work as a witcher. I will never kill any of you...\"\n\n\"You're lying! You lie in fear!\"\n\n\"But,\"-Geralt could not be interrupted this time-\"I must, as I said, get outside, immediately. So you have two choices. The first: You believe in my sincerity, and I get out of here. The second: I leave behind your corpses.\"\n\n\"The third,\" growled the Korr, \"your corpse is left behind.\"\n\nThe witcher removed his sword from the scabbard on his back with a hiss.\n\n\"It will not be the only one,\" he said, unmoved. \"Certainly not the only one, Mr. Schweitzer.\"\n\nThe Korr was silent fora while. The Killmouli, who still stood behind his back, rocked back and forth and growled a little. The Molding bent and stretched its legs. The Candelabra had changed shape. Now it looked like a crooked little tree with two large, phosphorescent eyes.\n\n\"Give us,\" finally said the Korr, \"proof of your sincerity and your goodwill.\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"Your sword. You claim that you will cease to be a witcher. A sword makes a witcher. Throw it into the abyss. Or break it. Then we let you out.\"\n\nGeralt stood there motionless fora moment, only the water dripping from the ceiling and walls broke the silence. Then he slowly placed the sword vertically and deeply into a crevice. And broke the blade with a powerful kick of his boot. The sword burst with a sighing sound that echoed in the depths." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The water dripped from the walls, ran them down like tears.\n\n\"I cannot believe it,\" the Korr said slowly. \"I cannot believe that someone could be so stupid.\"\n\nThey all rushed at him, instantly, without a cry or a command. Mr. Schweitzer was the first to over the bridge-with stretched claws and bared fangs, which even a wolf would not have been ashamed of.\n\nGeralt approached it, whereupon he turned and struck it in the hip, the lower cheek, and its neck, renting its throat. The next moment he was on the bridge and slashed off one of the Killmouli's wrists with a blow. He doubled over and threw himself on the ground, just in time, because the Candelabra flew over him, grazing his jacket with its paws. The Molding jumped in front of witcher, thin legs whirling like a windmill. A swipe from one of its paws hit him on the side of the head; Geralt danced, made a feint, and hit with a sweeping blow. However, the Molding jumped again, but missed him. It landed on the railing and he pushed it, along with a hail of stones, into the abyss. Until then it had not made the slightest sound, but now that it fell into the abyss, it howled. It was along time before the howling ceased.\n\nThey attacked from two sides-the Candelabra on one, and the blood soaked Killmouli on the other, which had managed to stand up in spite of its injuries. The witcher jumped on the small stone railing, shaking the whole bridge. He balanced out and was now located beyond the reach of the Candelabra's clawed paws, and behind the Killmouli. The Killmouli had no neck, so Geralt gave him a blow to the temple. But the monster's head was like iron, so he had to strike a second time to finish it. It took him a split second too long." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He received a blow to the head, pain flared in his skull and into his eyes. He spun around, covered himself with a large display of defense, and felt his blood gushing beneath his hair, trying to understand what had happened. After he avoided-miraculously-the second blow of the claws, he understood. The Candelabra had changed shape-it now attacked with almost impossibly long legs.\n\nThat brought a disadvantage. Namely, imbalance and a shifted center of gravity. The witcher ducked under its feet and shortened the distance. The Candelabra saw what was going on, threw itself back like a cat, and stretched upon its hind paws, which were also reinforced with claws. Geralt jumped over it, cutting it mid-jump. He felt his blade cut through the body. He ducked, spun around, struck again, and sank to one knee. The creature screamed violently and quickly lowered its head, full of teeth, to the height of the witcher's chest. Its large eyes glowed in the dark. Geralt pushed it back with a sharp blow of his sword pommel, and made a strike at close range that separated half of its skull. Even without that half, this strange creature not recorded in the witcher books snapped at him with its teeth for another dozen seconds.\n\nThen it died with a horrible, almost human sigh.\n\nThe Korr lay in a pool of blood and twitched convulsively.\n\nThe witcher stopped in front of him. \"I cannot believe,\" he said, \"that someone could be so stupid to fall for such a simple illusion as the broken sword.\"\n\nHe wasn't sure whether the Korr was conscious enough to understand him. But basically, he didn't care.\n\n\"I warned you,\" he said as he wiped the blood trickling down his cheek. \"I warned you that I needed get out of here.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Mr." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Schweitzer began to tremble violently. He gasped, whistled, and creaked. Then he was quiet and did not move again.\n\nWater dripped from the ceiling and walls.\n\n\"Are you satisfied now Regis?\"\n\n\"Now, yes.\"\n\n\"Well, then.\" The witcher stood up. \"Goon and pack your things. But be quick.\"\n\n\"It will not take me long. Omnia mea mecum porto.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"I do not have much luggage.\"\n\n\"All the better. Meet me in front of the city in half an hour.\"\n\n\"I'll be there.\"\n\nHe had underestimated her. She had caught him. He only had himself to blame. Instead of hurrying, he should have ridden Roach out of the back of the palace, from the larger stables that were used by knights-errant, servants, and the staff, where his company had their horses. He had rushed and by habit had used the Princess' stable. And he should have guessed that she would be waiting in the royal stables.\n\nShe paced from wall to wall, churning up the straw. She wore a short lynx fur, a white satin blouse, a black skirt, and high riding boots. The horses snorted, they could feel the anger radiating from her.\n\n\"Oh, please,\" she said, grabbing the riding whip in his hand. \"You are leaving! Without saying goodbye. Because a letter on a table is certainly not a goodbye. Not after what's united us. I can just imagine how your behavior is explained and justified by unusually weighty arguments.\"\n\n\"It will be explained and justified. Sorry, Fringilla.\"\n\n\"Sorry, Fringilla\" she repeated, twisting her mouth furiously. \"How scarce, how cautious, nearly laconic-what sense of style. I bet the letter you left for me is edited just as elegantly. Without undue waste in terms of ink.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I must go,\" he squeezed out. \"You can imagine why. And for whom. Please forgive me. I was planning to sneak away in secret, quietly, because... I do not want you trying to ride with us.\"\n\n\"There you worried needlessly,\" she said emphatically as she bent the whip into a loop. \"I would not ride with you, even if you begged me from your knees. Oh no, witcher. Ride alone, die alone, freeze to death in the passes alone. I have no obligation to Ciri. And to you? Do you know how many people beg for this, what you have? What you now shove aside, throwaway with contempt?\"\n\n\"I'll never forget you.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she hissed. \"You have no idea how much I desire to make sure of that. If not with magic, then with this whip!\"\n\n\"You wouldn't.\"\n\n\"You're right, I wouldn't. I couldn't. I'm behaving like an abandoned and spurned lover. Classic. I'll accept it with my head held high. With pride and dignity. I'll bite back my tears. Then I'll cry into my pillow. And then I let myself be with another!\"\n\nTowards the end she almost shouted.\n\nHe said nothing. She was also silent.\n\n\"Geralt,\" she finally said in a very different voice. \"Stay with me.\"\n\n\"I think I love you,\" she said when she saw that he hesitated before answering. \"Stay with me. I beg you. I've never asked that of someone and do not think I'll ever do it again. I beg you.\"\n\n\"Fringilla\" he replied after awhile. \"You're a woman that a man could only dream of. It is my fault, entirely my fault, that I am not a dreamer by nature.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You,\" she said, biting her lip, \"are like a fishhook, which, once stuck, can only be uprooted together with blood and flesh. Well, I myself am guilty, I knew what I was doing when I began this dangerous game. Luckily I also know how to deal with the consequences. In this regard, I have more than other women.\"\n\nHe said nothing.\n\n\"Besides,\" she added, \"a broken heart, while it hurts much more than a broken arm, also heals much, much faster.\"\n\nAgain he said nothing.\n\nFringilla looked at the bruise on his cheek. \"What about my amulet? Does it work well?\"\n\n\"It is simply fabulous. Thank you.\"\n\nShe nodded.\n\n\"Where do you ride?\" She asked in a completely different voice, in a very different tone. \"What did you learn? You know where Vilgefortz is hiding, don't you?\"\n\n\"Yes. Please do not ask me to tell you. I will not.\"\n\n\"I'll have that information. One way or the other.\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"I have a message\", she stated, \"that is very valuable. And for you, simply priceless. I will sell it to you in exchange for...\"\n\n\"Fora clear conscience,\" he finished the sentence for her. He looked into her eyes. \"For the trust that I have given you. A moment ago you spoke of loving me. And now we begin to talk of exchanges?\"\n\nShe was silent fora longtime. Then they fought fiercely for the whip they both were holding.\n\n\"Yennefer.\" she said quickly, \"The one whose name you've mentioned a few times tome at night, in moments of ecstasy, has not ever betrayed you or Ciri. She was not an accomplice to Vilgefortz. She fearlessly undertook an unprecedented risk to save Cirilla. She suffered a defeat and fell into Vilgefortz's hands. She was surely forced by torture to perform the magical detection that took place last year. Whether she still lives is not known. That's all I know. I swear it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Thank you, Fringilla.\"\n\n\"Go.\"\n\n\"I trust you,\" he said without leaving. \"And I will never forget what happened between us. I trust you, Fringilla. I will not stay with you, but I think I loved you too... in my way. I ask that you keep secret what you are about to hear. Vilgefortz's hiding place is...\"\n\n\"Wait,\" she interrupted. \"Tell me later, after you say goodbye tome. A proper goodbye. Not with a note, not with stammering apologies. Say goodbye tome, as I want.\"\n\nShe took off her lynx fur and laid it on a pile of straw. With a violent movement she tore open her blouse, she wore nothing underneath. She plopped down on the fur, taking Geralt with her. Geralt grabbed her neck, pulled up her skirt, and suddenly realized that there was no time to takeoff his gloves. Fortunately, Fringilla was not wearing any gloves. Or underwear. He was even more fortunate that she was not wearing spurs, for immediately afterwards the heels of her riding boots were literally everywhere– there was no telling what might have happened if she had been wearing spurs.\n\nWhen she cried, he kissed her. Stifling her cry.\n\nThe horses, sensing both of their raging passions, neighed, stomped, and pushed against the walls, swirling the dust and hay.\n\n\"Castle Rhys-Rhun, in Nazair, on the shores of Lake Muredach\" Fringilla Vigo concluded triumphantly. \"That is Vilgefortz's hideout. I got it out of the witcher before he rode away. We have enough time to pre-empt him. He cannot possibly be there before April.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The nine women gathered in the great pillared hall of Castle Montecalvo nodded, looking at Fringilla with appreciative eyes.\n\n\"Rhys-Rhun\" repeated Philippa Eilhart while she bared her teeth in a predatory smile and played with the sardonyx cameo pinned to her dress. \"Rhys-Rhun in Nazair. See you soon, Mr. Vilgefortz... See you soon!\"\n\n\"If the witcher gets there,\" hissed Keira Metz, \"he will find debris that won't even smell burnt anymore.\"\n\n\"And neither will the dead bodies.\" Sabrina Glevissig smiled charmingly.\n\n\"Bravo, Miss Vigo\" Síle de Tansarville gave her a nod-a gesture that Fringilla would never have expected of the famous magician. \"Perfect Work.\"\n\nFringilla bowed her head.\n\n\"Bravo,\" repeated Síle. \"About three months Toussaint... But it was well worth it.\"\n\nFringilla Vigo let her eyes wander around the sorceresses sitting at the table. Around Síle, Philippa, and Sabrina Glevissig. Around Keira Metz, Margarita Laux-Antille, and Triss Merigold. Around Francesca Findabair and Ida Emean, whose intensely painted elven eyes expressed nothing. Around Assire var Anahid, whose eyes were restlessness and full of anxiety.\n\n\"That it was,\" she admitted.\n\nPerfectly sincere.\n\nThe dark blue sky was gradually turning black. A strong, icy wind blew through the vineyards. Geralt buttoned up his wolf's fur clothing and wrapped a wool scarf wound around his neck. He felt very well. The lovemaking had, as usual, brought him up to peak physical, mental, and spiritual condition, wiping out all traces of doubt, making his mind clear and lively. He only regretted only that he would not experience this wonderful panacea again fora longtime." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The voice of Reynart de Bois-Fresnes tore him from his thoughts.\n\n\"Bad weather is coming,\" the knight-errant said as he stared into the east, from whence the wind blew. \"Hurry. If this wind brings snow, if it manages to catch you on the passes, then you are sitting in a trap. The only thing you can do then is pray to the gods-both those that you worship and those you've only heard of-for the snow to thaw.\"\n\n\"We understand.\"\n\n\"The Sansretour will lead you the first few days, keep to the river. You will ride pasta trapper trading post and come to a point where a tributary flows into the Sansretour from the right. Do not forget, from the right. Its course will show you the way to Malheur Pass. If, with the help of the gods, you manage to conquer the Malheur, do not rejoice too much, you still have the Sansmerci and Mortblanc passes in front of you. You have to overcome both, then you can descend into the Sudoth Valley. Sudoth has a warm micro-climate, almost like Toussaint. But the soil is so poor, no wine will grow there...\"\n\nHe broke off embarrassed, as he noticed the disapproving glances.\n\n\"Okay,\" he croaked. \"To the point. The town of Caravista is located at the end of the Sudoth. My cousin lives there, Guy de Bois-Fresnes. Visit him and refer tome. If it turns out that he has died, or is an imbecile, then remember that the next step of your journey is towards the plains of Mag Deira and the valley of the Sylte River. From there, Geralt, follow the map you had the cartographers in town draw you. While we are discussing cartography-I do not quite understand why you asked him about the castles...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Forget it, Reynart. Nothing like happened. You heard nothing and saw nothing. Even if they tighten you upon the rack. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\n\"A horseman,\" warned Cahir, subduing his erupting stallion. \"A rider approaches from the palace, at a gallop.\"\n\n\"If there is only one\" Angoulême said with a big smile, stroking the axe hanging from her saddle, \"it will hardly be a problem.\"\n\nThe rider on the galloping horse turned out to be Dandelion. And, wonder of wonders, the horse turned out to be Pegasus, the poet's gelding, who was not used to the sharp galloping and did not appear to enjoy it.\n\n\"Well,\" the troubadour said, so out of breathe that it looked like he had carried the gelding instead of the other way around. \"Well, I did it. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to catch you.\"\n\n\"Don't tell me you're coming along with us now.\"\n\n\"No, Geralt\"-Dandelion bowed his head-\"I'm not coming along. I'm staying herein Toussaint, with Weasel. That is, with Anarietta. But I had to say goodbye to you. Wish you luck on your way.\"\n\n\"Thank the princess for everything. And find a justification for us leaving so suddenly, and without saying goodbye. Explain it somehow.\"\n\n\"You took a chivalrous vow, and now you must fulfill it. Everyone in Toussaint, including Little Weasel, will understand that. But here... take this. This will be my contribution.\"\n\n\"Dandelion\"-Geralt took a bag from the poet-\"we do not suffer lack of money. It isn't necessary...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"This will be my contribution,\" repeated the troubadour. \"Cash never hurts. Plus, it's not mine-I took these ducats from Little Weasel's privy purse. Why are you looking at me like that? Women don't need money. And why should they? They don't drink, don't roll dice-women are condemned, they do it to themselves. So, it's all good! Now ride off, before I start to cry. And when it's over, you have to stop by Toussaint, comeback to tell me everything. And I will paint Ciri. Do you promise, Geralt?\"\n\n\"I promise.\"\n\n\"Well, it's all good.\"\n\n\"Wait.\" Geralt turned his horse, rode close to the poet, and removed a secret letter from his jacket. \"See that this letter comes to the right place...\"\n\n\"Fringilla Vigo?\"\n\n\"No. Dijkstra.\"\n\n\"Why, Geralt? And how am I supposed to do that?\"\n\n\"Find away. I know you can do it. And now, take care. Give me a hug, old fool.\"\n\n\"Give me a hug, friend. I'll keep my eye out for you!\"\n\nThey watched him leave, riding at a trot towards Beauclair.\n\nThe sky was dark.\n\n\"Reynart.\" The witcher turned in the saddle. \"Ride with us.\"\n\n\"No, Geralt,\" replied Reynart de Bois-Fresnes after a moment. \"I am a knight-errant. But I am not crazy.\"\n\nIn the great pillared hall of Castle Montecalvo they were in unusually high spirits. Here the usually dominant light of the candelabra had now been replaced by the milky light of a large, magical screen. The image on the screen wavered, flickered, and disappeared from time to time. All this increased the tension and excitement. And nervousness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ha,\" said Philippa Eilhart with a predatory smile. \"What a shame that I cannot be there. A little action would dome good. And a little adrenaline.\"\n\nSíle de Tansarville gave her a disapproving look, but said nothing. Francesca Findabair and Ida Emean stabilized the image with spells and enlarged it so that it occupied the entire screen. They could clearly see black peaks against the backdrop of deep blue sky, filled with stars, which also reflected on the surface of a lake situated by a dark and edgy profile of a castle.\n\n\"I am still not sure,\" Síle said, \"whether it was proper to transfer the management of this task force to young Sabrina and Metz. Keira had her ribs broken on Thanedd, she will probably want to take revenge. And Sabrina... well, she likes the action and adrenaline a bit too much. Isn't that so, Philippa?\"\n\n\"We talked about this already\", snapped Philippa, her voice was as sour as a plum. \"We've laid down the rules. No one is killed if it can be avoided. Sabrina and Keira's group will enter Rhys-Rhun on tiptoe, quiet as a mouse, psst. They will take Vilgefortz alive, without a scratch, without a bruise. Those are the rules we set. Although I am still of the opinion that we should have made an example. So that the few in the castle who would have survived the night would have woken up crying, and would have dreamed of this night for the rest of their lives.\"\n\n\"Revenge,\" the sorceress from Kovir said dryly, \"is the joy of mediocre, weak, and petty minds.\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" agreed Philippa with a seemingly indifferent smile. \"But it is still a joy.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Enough of that,\" Margarita Laux-Antille lifted a glass of sparkling wine in the air. \"I suggest we drink to the health of Miss Fringilla Vigo, through whose efforts Vilgefortz's hideout was discovered. Really, Miss Fringilla, good work, very good work.\"\n\nFringilla bowed and raised her glass in reply. She noticed a hint of mockery in Philippa's black eyes. There was indignation in Triss Merigold's blue-eyed gaze. She could not decipher the smiles of Francesca or Síle.\n\n\"It begins,\" said Assire var Anahid, pointing to the magical image.\n\nThey sat down comfortably. In order to see better, Philippa dampened the candlelight with a spell.\n\nThey watched as black figures flew by the mountains, as silent and agile as bats. As they broke formation and descended to the battlements and ramparts of Castle Rhys-Rhun.\n\n\"It must be a hundred years ago,\" murmured Philippa, \"since I've had a broom between my legs. Soon I will forget how to fly.\"\n\nSíle, eyes fixed on the screen, silenced her with an impatient hiss.\n\nThe windows of the black castle flashed briefly with fire. Once, twice, three times. They knew what it was. Locked doors and locking chains being shattered under the blows of ball lightning.\n\n\"They're inside,\" Assire var Anahid said quietly, the only one not looking at the screen, but instead into a crystal ball lying on the table. \"The task force is inside. But something is wrong. Something is not as it should be.\"\n\nFringilla's heart was pounding and her stomach felt queasy. She knew that everything was not the way it should be." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Miss Glevissig\" reported Assire again, \"will open a direct communicator.\"\n\nThe space between the pillars of the hall suddenly flared up and an oval materialized into Sabrina Glevissig-dressed in men's clothes, her hair held back by a chiffon scarf around her forehead, her face blackened with strips of camouflage. Behind the sorceress\" back, they could see dirty stonewalls and shredded rags that had once been tapestries.\n\nSabrina's hand stretched out towards them, her glove displaying the hanging remains of long strips of cobwebs.\n\n\"Just these,\" she said, gesturing violently, \"there are plenty these here! Just these! Hell, what a stupid... What a disgrace...\"\n\n\"Coherent, Sabrina!\"\n\n\"What, coherent?\" Shouted the magician from Kaedwen. \"How should I make it more coherent? Can you not see? This is the castle of Rhys-Rhun! It is empty! Dilapidated and empty! It is a damned empty ruin! There's nothing here! Nothing!\"\n\nKeira Metz appeared standing behind Sabrina's back, looking like the purest hell with camouflage painted on her face.\n\n\"No one,\" she confirmed quietly, \"has been in this castle. For about fifty years. For fifty years, there has not been a living soul, except for spiders, rats, and bats. We have raided the entirely wrong place.\"\n\n'Have you verified that this is not an illusion?\"\n\n\"Do you think we are children, Philippa?\"\n\n\"Be careful, both of you.\" Philippa Eilhart nervously ran her fingers through her hair. \"Tell the mercenaries and novices that this was an exercise. They should return to be paid. Return immediately. And it put on a good face, you hear? Avery good face!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The communication oval went out. Only one image remained on the screen. The castle of Rhys-Rhun against the black, glittering stars of the heavens. And the lake where the stars were reflected.\n\nFringilla Vigo looked at the table. She felt as though the pulsating blood in her cheeks would come bursting out at any moment.\n\n\"I really...,\" she said, as she could no longer endure the silence that prevailed in the great pillared hall of Castle Montecalvo. \"I really... do not...\"\n\n\"I do,\" said Triss Merigold.\n\n\"This castle...\" Philippa said thoughtfully, ignoring the others. \"This castle... Rhys-Rhun... We will have to destroy it. Completely lay it to ruins. And any records of this whole affair– legends or traditions, will be required to submit to a careful censorship. Do you ladies know what I mean?\"\n\n\"Very well.\" Findabair Francesca, who had been silent until then, nodded. Ida Emean, who had also been silent, allowed a very eloquent snort.\n\n\"I...\" Fringilla Vigo was still stunned. \"I really do not understand how... how this could happen...\"\n\n\"Ah,\" Síle de Tansarville said after a very long silence. \"There is nothing further to say, Miss Vigo. No one is perfect.\"\n\nPhilippa snorted softly. Assire var Anahid sighed and looked up at the ceiling.\n\n\"Ultimately,\" Síle added with pursed lips, \"it is something that each of us has already experienced at some point. Each of us, as we sit here, has at sometime been betrayed, exploited, or made a mockery of by a man.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "'I love thee, thy beauty I covet and choose;\n\nBe willing, my darling, or force I shall use'\n\n'Dear father, oh father, he seizes my arm!\n\nThe Alder King, father, has done me harm! '\n\nJohann Wolfgang von Goethe\n\nEverything has already been done once, everything will eventually happen again. And everything has already been described before.\n\nVysogota of Corvo\n\nA hot and stuffy afternoon fell on the forest, the lake's surface, until recently was dark as polished jade, now gleamed like gold. The reflection off of the surface from the sun was so blinding that Ciri had to shade her watery eyes with her hand.\n\nShe ran through the bushes that grew on the shore and forced Kelpie into the lake, the deep water reached above the knees of the mare. The water was so clear that, even from the height of her saddle, Ciri could seethe shadow of the horse on the colorful mosaic floor, the seaweed and the shells. She saw a small crab moving very quickly among the pebbles.\n\nKelpie whinnied. Ciri jerked the reins and moved into the shallows, but not all the way to the shore because it was sandy with many stones which would hinder fast travel. She directed the mare closer to the edge of the water, where she could run on reasonably firm gravel. She let the mare trot, but after awhile the trot became slower. With a cry she kicked her heels into Kelpie's side and spurred into a gallop. Water sprayed upon all sides, flashing in the sun like molten silver.\n\nShe did not slowdown, even when she saw the tower in front of her. They literally flew through the shallow water. An ordinary horse would have certainly slowed down. But Kelpie's breathing was deep and regular, and her canter was still fast and lightweight." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They ran into the courtyard in full momentum, making a great noise as the horseshoes struck the cobblestones, she slowed the mare sharply so that fora moment the shoes slipped on the cobbles. She stopped right in front of the elves that waited at the foot of the tower. Before their very noses. She felt satisfaction when two of the usually steady and dispassionate elves, recoiled involuntarily.\n\n\"Don't be alarmed, \"she snorted.\"I won't hit you! Unless I wanted to.\"\n\nThe elves quickly recovered, smoothing their faces to calm again, their indifferent eyes started back at her with nonchalance. Ciri jumped, or rather flew from the saddle. In her eyes was a challenge.\n\n\"Bravo,\" said the blond elf with a triangular face, emerging from the shadows of an arcade. \"A nice performance, Loc'hlaith. '\n\nHe had greeted her the same as when she entered the Tower of the Swallow and found herself in the middle of blooming spring,. But that was along time ago and it no longer produced any impression on Ciri.\n\n\"I am not the Lady of the Lake,\" she protested. \"I am a prisoner here! And you are my jailors! Why not admit it?\"\n\n\"Please!\" she threw the reins to one of the elves. \"The horse needs to be rubbed down. And given a cool water to drink. And take good care of her!\"\n\nThe blond elf smiled.\n\n\"Indeed,\" he said, looking at the elf leading Kelpie to the stable. \"You're an imprisoned here and mistreated by cruel jailors. It is visible at a glance. '\n\n\"They get what they deserve!\" she put her hands on her hips and glared into his clear aquamarine eyes. \"I treat them like they treat me. A prison is a prison.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You astonish me, Loc'hlaith. '\n\n\"And you treat me like a stupid kid. And you have not even introduced yourself.\"\n\n\"Sorry. My name is Crevan Espane aep Caomhan Macha. And I am an Aen Saevherne, if you know what that means.\"\n\n\"Yes I do,\" she had no time to hide her admiration. \"A Knowing one. Elven wizards.\"\n\n\"You could call it that. For convenience, I use an alias, Avallac'h, so you can call me that. '\n\n\"And who told you,\" Ciri frowned, \"that I have any intention of talking to you? A Knowing one or not, you are my jailor, and I am...\"\n\n\"A prisoner,\" he finished sarcastically. \"You already said that. Also that you area prisoner that is ill-treated. The riding trips are undoubtedly forced, you wear a sword on your back under pressure and as punishment you have to wear those garments, which are so much more tasteful, newer and cleaner than the one in which you were discovered. However, despite the harsh conditions, you do not give up. The wrong that we have committed again you, you repay with rebellion. You also broke with great courage some mirrors that were true works of art.\"\n\nShe flushed with anger and shame.\n\n\"Oh,\" he added hastily. \"You can break what you want. They are only things– even if they were made by artist several hundred years ago. Will you walk with me to the lake?\"\n\nThe wind had risen and it somewhat eased her embarrassment. Additionally the tall trees around the tower provided shade.\n\nThe water in the lake was a murky green color, the abundant waterlilies that adorned it's surface, with their yellow flowers, made it seem like a meadow. The sandpipers, squawking and shaking their red beaks, move quickly away at their approach." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That mirror...\" Ciri stammered, her heels digging into the wet gravel. \"I'm sorry about that. I was in a rage. That was all. '\n\n\"Oh.\"\n\n\"They were ignoring me. The elves. When I speak to them, they pretend they don't understand. And they speak tome on purpose so that I do not understand them. Just to humiliate me. '\n\n\"You speak our language perfectly. However,\" he explained calmly, \"it's still a foreign language to you. Besides, you are using hen llinge, and they use ellylon. The difference are not great, but they are there. '\n\n\"You understand. Every word.\"\n\n\"I'm speaking to you using hen lling. It is the language the elves speak on your world. '\n\n\"And you?\" she turned away. \"From what world are you? I'm not an ignorant child. At night I lookup at the sky. There is not a single constellation that I know. This world is not my own. It's not my place. I came hereby accident... I want to get out. To leave.\"\n\nShe bent down and picked up a stone, and made a motion as if to throw it at the sandpipers on the edge of the lake. She stopped when she noticed his stare.\n\n\"When I go riding,\" she said indignantly, \"I always end up back at the lake and the tower. Whether I head out on either side, whether I change direction, no matter what I do, every time I end up at the lake and the tower. Every time. I cannot getaway from this place. So it is a prison. It's worse than a dungeon with bars on the windows. Do you know why? Because it is humiliating. Ellylon or not, it angers me when they make fun of me and show their distain. Don't pretend that you're not laughing at me and despising me. Are you surprised when I get angry? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I'm surprised, in fact, \"his eyes widened.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Extremely. '\n\nShe sighed and shrugged.\n\n\"I went into the tower over a week ago,\" she said, making an effort to stay calm. \"And when I came out I was in a different world. You were waiting for me, sitting and playing a flute. You said that you were surprised that I had taken so long incoming. You addressed me by my name, but later you gave me that nonsense about the Lady of the Lake. After that you disappeared without an explanation. Leaving me in this prison. Call this what you please. I call it contempt and malicious wounding.\"\n\n\"It has only been eight days, Zireael.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" she frowned, \"So, I've been lucky? Because it could be eight weeks? Or eight months? Or eight...\n\nShe paused.\n\n\"Much you have strayed away,\" he said quietly, \"from Lara Dorren. You have lost your inheritance, the bond with her blood. It is not surprising that people do not understand you, or you them. You don't just talk differently, but think differently too– incompletely different ways. What is eight days or eight weeks? Time is not important. '\n\n\"I confess,\" she shouted back angrily. \"I'm not a wise elf, I'm just a silly mortal. For me, time is important, so I count the days and even hours. And I figure it has been a lot of some and more of others. I do not want anything from you, I do not want you to explain why it is spring in these woods or why unicorns live here and I do not care why the constellations in the sky are not known tome. I do not care how you knew my name or how I came here. I just want one thing– to go home! To my world! To my people! To those who think just like me! In the same way!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You can go back to them. After a period of time.\"\n\n\"I want it now!\" she cried. \"Not after a period of time, dammit! Since time here takes forever! Why can I not leave now? I came here alone, by choice! So what right do you have holding me here?\"\n\n\"You did come alone,\" he said seriously. \"But not by choice. Fate has brought you here and we helped a little. Long have we been awaiting you. Even by the standards of our time.\"\n\n\"I do not understand any of this.\"\n\n\"We have been waiting along time,\"he said not paying any attention to her objection, \"fearful of one thing– that you would not be able to get here. But you did it. You have confirmed your origin, your blood. And that means that here, and not among the Dh'oine is your place. You are the rightful daughter of Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal.\n\n\"I am the daughter of Pavetta! I do not even know who this Lara of your is!\"\n\nHe paused. Almost imperceptibly.\n\n\"In that case,\" he reconsidered, \"It would be best if I explain who Lara is. But time is short, so I would prefer to use the most popular explanations along the way. But from you recklessness and defiance you have harassed your mare...\"\n\n\"Harassed my mare? Ha! You do not know what my mare can handle. Where are we going?\"\n\n\"Id you'll excuse me, I'll also tell you that along the way.\"\n\nCiri slowed Kelpie from her mad gallop.\n\nAvallac'h had not lied. There, in the open, in the grasslands and heaths from which protruded menhirs, worked the same force that surround Tor Zireael. No matter which direction she rode or how fast, and invisible magic force pulled her back in a circle." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Kelpie snorted and Ciri patted her neck, looking calm at the bunch of elves." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A moment ago, when Avallac'h finally told her what they wanted from her, she took off at a full gallop, to getaway from them, leaving them as far behind as possible. To escape them and their arrogant and unusual request.\n\nBut there they were back in front of her. She had rode a mile, more or less. But Avallac'h had not lied. There was no escape.\n\nThe only good thing about the gallop was that it had cooled her head and soothed her nerves. She was calmer. But she was still shaking with anger.\n\nI've fall in deep, she thought. By the gods, why did I enter that tower?\n\nShe shivered as she remembered Bonhart speeding up behind heron a lathered horse on the cracking ice. She controlled herself. I'm alive, she thought. So it's not the end of the fight. The fight only end with death, everything else is just an interruption. So they taught meat Kaer Morhen.\n\nShe walked Kelpie slowly, but when she saw the mare proudly raise her head she encouraged her to a trot. She rode around the menhirs. The grass and heather reached to her stirrups.\n\nSoon she caught up to Avallac'h and the three elves. The Knowing one was smiling mysteriously and watched her with his aquamarine eyes.\n\n\"Please Avallac'h, \"she said hoarsely.\"Say it was a joke. '\n\n'A shadow crossed his face.\n\n\"I'm not in the habit of making jokes like this, \"he said seriously.\"I will seriously reiterate that we want you to bear a son, Swallow, daughter of Lara Dorren. Once you give birth to the child, we'll let you leave here and go back to your own world. Of course, the choice is yours. I imagine your wild ride will have helped you to make the decision. What is your answer?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My answer is no,\" Ciri replied flatly. \"Categorically, permanently, no. I'm not ready and that is that. '\n\n\"I confess,\" he shrugged, \"you disappointed me. But it's your decision. '\n\n\"How can you even ask such a thing?\" she said, her voice trembling. \"How can you? By what right?\"\n\nHe looked at her blankly. Ciri also noticed that the other elves were watching.\n\n\"It seemed tome,\" he said, \"that I already clarified the secret of your origin. It seemed tome that you understood me. Therefore your question surprises me. We have the right and we can demand, Swallow. Your father, Cregennan, took our child. You have to give one to us. To payoff the debt. It seems tome to be only logical and fair.\"\n\n\"My father... I do not remember my father, but he was called Duny. Not Cregennan. I told you that already!\"\n\n\"And I told you that a few ludicrously short human generations mean nothing to us.\"\n\n\"But I won't do it! \"shouted Ciri, startling the horses.\"Do you not understand? I won't! I hate the idea that you would try to implant a fucking parasite in me, it makes me sick to think that this parasite would grow in me, that...\"\n\nShe stopped suddenly, seeing the faces of the elves. In two of them was reflected infinite amazement. In the third, an infinite hatred. Avallac'h intentionally coughed.\n\n\"Let's go, \"he said coldly,\"a little ahead and talk face to face. Your views, Swallow, area bit too radical to proclaim in public. '\n\nShe obeyed. They rode ahead fora time without speaking." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I'll escape, \"Ciri broke the silence.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You will not be able to hold me against my will. I escaped from the island of Thanedd, Iran away from my captors and the Nilfgaardians, I escaped Bonhart and the Owl. I will also escape your hands. I will find away with sorcery. '\n\n\"I thought,\" he said, that you rely more on your friends. On Yennefer. On Geralt. '\n\n\"You know about the?\" she said. \"Well, yes. You area Knowing one! Therefore you know about them because I was thinking about them. In my world, they are both in danger right now, in this moment. And you want to keep me here... For, at least nine months. You see, I have no choice. I understand that it is important for you to have a child of the Elder blood, but I can't. I just can't.\"\n\nThe elf rode so close that their knees touched.\n\n\"As I said, the decision is yours. We respect that, but we must take certain steps. You yourself will find that there is no escape, Swallow. If you refuse to cooperate, then you will stay here forever and you will never see your world or friends again.\"\n\n\"This is blackmail!\"\n\n\"Conversely,\" he ignored her protest. \"If you will obey our request, we can tell you that time for us really does mean nothing.\"\n\n\"I do not understand.\"\n\n\"Here time passes differently than there. If you help us, we will reward you. Giving you back the time you will lose with among us. Among the People of the Alders.\"\n\nShe was silent, staring at Kelpie's black mane. I have to think of a delaying tactic, she thought frantically. What did Vesemir use to say– When you are to hang, ask fora cup of water. You never know what is going to happen before they bring it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One of the elves whistled shrilly.\n\nAvallac'h horse whinnied and nervously stamped the ground. The elf mastered it, and shouted something back in elvish. Ciri saw one of the riders pull a bow from his saddle. She stood up in the stirrups and shadowed her eyes with her hands.\n\n\"Stay calm.\" Avallac'h said sharply. Ciri sighed.\n\nAbout two hundred feet away rushing through the heath was a herd of unicorns. At least thirty of them. She had seen them before, sometimes at dawn comedown to the lake under the Tower of the Swallow to drink. But they never let her approach them– they always disappeared like ghosts.\n\nThe leader of the herd was a strong stallion, a rust-red color. He stopped and whinnied loudly, rearing. He stood on his hind legs with his front legs pawing at the air in away no horse would be able to do.\n\nCiri noticed with astonishment that Avallac'h and his elves had started to softly chant some strange, monotonous melody.\n\nWho are you?\n\nShe shook her head.\n\nWho are you? The question resonated inside her head, pounding at her temples. Suddenly the song of the elves escalated. The unicorn whinnied and the whole herd replied. The earth shook as the animals ran off.\n\nThe elves'song stopped. Ciri saw Avallac'h wiping sweat from his forehead. The elf looked at her out of the corner of his eye, to see if he saw it.\n\n\"Not everything here is as nice as it seems on first sight.\" He said dryly. \"Not everything.\"\n\n\"Are you afraid of unicorns? They're wise and friendly. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He did not answer.\n\n\"I've heard, \"she did not give up.\"that elves and unicorns love one another. '\n\nHe turned his head.\n\n\"Consider then,\" he said coolly, \"what you saw then was an argument between lovers.\"\n\nShe asked no more questions.\n\nShe had enough of her own concerns.\n\nThe tops of the hills were crowned with menhirs and dolmens. The sight of them reminded Ciri of the stone in Ellander, where Yennefer had taught her magic. Oh, that was along time ago, she thought. Centuries ago...\n\nOne of the elves screamed. Ciri looked in the direction that the woman was pointing. Before she could properly realize that the herd had returned, led by the red stallion, another elf cried out. Ciri sat up in her saddle.\n\nFrom behind the hill, on the opposite side, emerged a second herd. The unicorn guiding them was a bluish grey color.\n\nAvallac'h shouted a few words. They were in the Elvish dialect, ellyon, that she found incomprehensible, but the command seem to be for them to grab their bows. Avallac'h turned\n\ntowards Ciri, and she felt her mind begin to hum. It was a sound quite similar to that of when you put your ear to a sea conch. But much stronger.\n\nDo not resist-she heard a voice– Do not defend yourself. I have to make a leap. I have to transfer us elsewhere. There is mortal danger here.\n\nSuddenly they heard a whistle and a shout. The rumble of shod hooves. From over the top of the hill galloped riders. A whole detachment." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The hill was covered with horses, and the riders wore helmets with crests. From their shoulders billowed cloaks, whose vibrant red, cinnamon and amaranth colors were reminiscent of the refection of fire in the evening sky.\n\nWith whistles and shouts, the riders headed towards them.\n\nBefore they had made it halfway, the unicorns had disappeared.\n\nThe leader of the horsemen was a black-haired elf sitting on a dark brown stallion, who looked like a dragon– he was huge and had trappings embroidered with golden scales and wearing a horned bukranion. All the other elves had black hair and red jackets under their armor which was made of incredibly small steel rings that clung to the body like wool knitwear.\n\n\"Avallac'h, ' he saluted.\n\n\"Eredin.\"\n\n\"You owe me for the help. To be paid off when requested.\"\n\n\"I will pay when you ask.\"\n\nThe black-haired elf jumped to the ground. Avallac'h also dismounted and motioned for Ciri and the others to do the same. They climbed the hill between the upright stones surrounded by bushes and blooming myrtle. Ciri eyed her companions. Both were of the same stature– very tall. But Avallac'h face was modest, while the rider's commanders face resembled a bird of prey. Blond and black, she thought. Good and evil. Light and Dark.\n\n\"Zireael, let me introduce to you this man– Eredin Bréacc Glas.\"\n\n\"Nice to meet you.\" The elf bowed. Ciri replied with a clumsy bow.\n\n\"How did you know,\" asked Avallac'h,\"that something threatened us? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I didn't know, \"the elf looked at Ciri intently.\"I patrol the plains, because news has spread that the unicorns have grown restless and aggressive. No one knows why. Now I know the reason. It's because of her.\"\n\nAvallac'h did not confirm or deny. Ciri's haughty eyes meet the black-haired elf's. Fora moment, they both looked at each other, and no one wanted to be the first to look away.\n\n\"She has to be of the Elder Blood? The elf shook his head.\" Aen Hen Ichaer. Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal's legacy? This is hard to believe. She looks like an ordinary small Dh'oine, human female. '\n\nAvallac'h remained silent. His face was impassive and indifferent.\n\n\"I assume,\" Eredin continued, \"that you have made a mistake. Bah, rumor has it that you never make mistakes. In this creation, deeply hidden, lies Lara's gene. When you look closely you can see some of the characteristics. Indeed, in her eyes I find something that awakens in me the memory of Lara Dorren. Am I right, Avallac'h? Who else, if not you, should know?\"\n\nAgain Avallac'h remained silent. But Ciri noticed a shadow of a blush on his paleface. She was very surprised and that gave her pause.\n\n\"Generally speaking,\" sneered the dark-haired elf, \"I can see something in the little Dh'oine. I can see it and appreciate it. Like I've found a nugget of gold on a pile of manure.\"\n\nCiri's eyes flashed angrily. Avallac'h slowly raised his head.\n\n\"You talk,\" he said slowly, \"just like a human, Eredin.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Eredin Bréacc Glas smiled showing his teeth. Ciri had seen such teeth– very white, very small, inhuman, all identical and with no canines. She had seen teeth like that in the elves lying dead, lined up in the courtyard of the guardhouse in Kaedwen. She had also seen such teeth in Sparks. But when Sparks smiled it looked nice, when Eredin did it, it looked ghastly.\n\n\"I wonder if this girl, who is trying to pierce my eyes, knows the reason why she is here?\" he asked.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"And is she ready to cooperate?\"\n\n\"Not quite.\"\n\n\"Not quite,\" he repeated. \"This is bad. The nature of the task requires cooperation for it to completely work. Unconditional. Otherwise it will notwork. And because Tir Na Lia is barely half a day's journey away, it is worth it to know where we stand. '\n\n\"You're too impatient, \"Avallac'h curled his lips. \"What can we gain in such a hurry?\"\n\n\"Eternity,\" Eredin said soberly, but his strange green eyes flashed. \"But this is your specialty, Avallac'h. Your specialty and your responsibility. '\n\n\"So you've said. '\n\n\"Yes, so I've said. And now if you'll excuse me, duty calls. I'll leave some of my men to escort you to safety. I'd advise spending the night hereon this hill, if you leave at dawn, you will be in Tir Na Lia at the right time. Va Faill. Oh, one more thing...\" he leaned down and plucked a blossoming twig of myrtle. He sniffed it and the handed it to Ciri with a bow. \"Reconciliation,\" he said shortly. \"An apology for careless words. Va Faill, luned.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He quickly left and soon the ground shook as the majority of his band left.\n\n\"Don't tell me, \"Ciri snarled,\" that I would have to have... to have, with him... If it is, then never ever... '\n\n\"No,\" Avallac'h said unhurried.\"It will not be him. Calm down. '\n\nCiri moved the myrtle closer to her face, so that Avallac'h would not noticed the excitement and fascination that enveloped her.\"\n\n\"I am calm.\"\n\nThe dry heather was replaced with lush grass, green ferns and yellow buttercups. Soon they saw a lazily flowing river lined with poplars. The water in the river, although clean, had a brownish color. It smelled of peat.\n\nAvallac'h played on his flute a variety of lively tunes. Ciri rode frowning and thinking hard.\n\n\"Who,\" she asked, \"is to be the father of the child, for whom you care so much? Or maybe it does not matter?\"\n\n\"It is important. Am Ito understand that you have made a decision?\"\n\n\"No, you do not understand. Just explain somethings.\"\n\n\"I'm at your service. What do you want to know? '\n\n\"You know what.\"\n\nFora time they rode in silence. Ciri saw some swans floating down the river.\n\n\"The father.\" Avallac'h said calmly and factually,\"will be Auberon Muircetach. Auberon Muircetach is our... How do you say... Supreme leader? '\n\n\"King? King of the Aen Seidhe?\"\n\n\"The Aen Seidhe, the People of the Hills, are the elves of your world. We are the Aen Elle, the People of the Alders. And Auberon Muircetach is, of course, our king.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"King of the Alders?\"\n\n\"You can call him that.\"\n\nThey rode in silence. It was very warm.\n\n\"Avallac'h. '\n\n\"Go ahead.\"\n\n\"If I decide, then... later... I'll be free? '\n\n\"You will be free and you can go where you want. If you decide to stay. With the child.\"\n\n'She snorted dismissively, but said nothing.\n\n\"So you have decided?\" he asked.\n\n\"I'll decide when we get there. '\n\n\"We are on the spot.\"\n\nThrough the branches of the weeping willows that hung down over the river, flowing like green curtains, Ciri saw a palace. She had never seen anything like it. As if it were not made of marble and alabaster, but of white lace– so delicate and light that it seemed ethereal, as if they were not buildings, but the ghosts of buildings. Ciri expected that at any moment the wind would blow and the palaces would disappear along with the rising river mist. But when the wind blew, the mist disappeared and moved the willow branches and wrinkled the river, but the palaces remained. Just more beautiful.\n\nCiri looked raptly at the wispy hanging terraces and balconies, the bridges over the river which were hung with festoons of ivy, the stairs, balustrades, the arcades and cloisters, the columns, the domes, and the slender asparagus-like towers.\n\n\"Tir Na Lia,\" Avallac'h said quietly.\n\nThe closer they move, the more fascinating the charm of the place became. Ciri's heart pounded and her throat was tight as she a passed fountains, mosaics and sculptures. Even the openwork structures whose use she did not understand. And so she was sure that they did not serve anything, they were just an addition to the aesthetics and harmony." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Tir Na Lia,\" Avallac'h repeated.\"Have you ever seen anything like it? '\n\n\"Yes,\" she said through her tight throat. \"I saw the remains of such a thing. In Shaerrawedd.\"\n\nThis time the elf was silent fora long while.\n\nThey crossed the river by abridge, the arch looked so frail that Kelpie rebelled and snorted when she tried to cross.\n\nCiri was tense and restless, but carefully looked around, not wanting to miss anything, none of the views, that the city of Tir Na Lia had to offer. Firstly, from a burning curiosity. Secondly, she had not stopped thinking about the possibility of escape and diligently kept watch for such an occasion.\n\nOn bridges and terraces, in malls and colonnades, balconies and porches, she saw elves moving, with longhair, wearing tight jerkins and short layers, with fancy embroidery. Orin sheer flowing dresses or in tight clothes that emphasized the curves of their bodies.\n\nBefore the porch of one of the palaces, they were met by Eredin Bréacc Glas. On his instruction small grey-clad elves ran quickly and quietly to handle their horses. Ciri watched him in some surprise. Avallac'h, Eredin and all the elves that she had met so far were extremely tall, so that to look them in the eye she had to bend back her head. These grey elves were smaller than her. Some other race, she thought, a race of servants. Even in this fairy-tale word, someone has to work for the lazy.\n\nThey entered the palace. Ciri sighed. She was a princess of royal blood and had been raised in a palace. But such marble, stucco, mosaics, stained glass, mirrors and chandeliers she had never seen. She felt in all that dazzling splendor, wrong, awkward, out of place., dusty, sweaty and tired from the trip." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Avallac'h by contrast, did not care at all. He dusted his pants with his gloves, ignoring the fact that dust was settling on the mirrors. Then with a stately gesture he gave the gloves to a young elf who bowed before him.\n\n\"Auberon,\" he said briefly, \"is expecting us?\"\n\nEredin smiled.\n\n\"Yes, you are expected. He is anxious. He has demanded that the Swallow come to him immediately, without a moment's delay. I have dissuaded him. '\n\nAvallac'h frowned.\n\n\"Zireael,\" Eredin explained, \"should appear before the king, unhurried, without pressure, relaxed, calm and in good spirits. To ensure a good mood, a bath, new clothes, anew hairstyle and makeup. Auberon can probably endure that long.\"\n\nCiri sighed deeply and looked carefully at the dark-haired elf. She was surprised at his sudden sympathy. Eredin flashed her a smile with his straight white teeth without canines.\n\n\"The only thing that concerns me,\" he said, \"our Swallow's eyes– twinkling like a hawk, have not stopped glancing left and right, like a ferret looking fora hole in her cage. From what I can see, Swallow is far from an unconditional surrender. '\n\nAvallac'h did not say anything. Ciri, of course, said nothing as well.\n\n\"I'm not surprised, \"Eredin continued.\"She could not be otherwise, since she is the blood of Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal. Listen tome very carefully, Zireael. There is no escape. You cannot break a Geas Garadh, a barrier of Magic. '\n\nThe look Ciri throw his way clearly said that would have to be proven to be believed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Even if by some miracle, you collapse the barrier,\" Eredin was not distracted by her look, \"you know that it would mean your doom. This world seems very beautiful. But it can also bring death, especially to strangers. A wound from the horn of a unicorn has no cure, not even magic. Know too, that you will get no help from your innate talents. Do not make any attempt to try and jump. If you did, know that my Dearg Ruadhri– my Red Horsemen, are able to cross the chasms of time and space.\"\n\nShe did not really understand what he was saying. But it puzzled her that Avallac'h suddenly scowled and frowned, clearly unhappy with Eredin's speech. As if Eredin had said too much.\n\n\"Let's go, \"he said.\"With your permission, Zireael. I am going to leave you in the hands of the women. You'll have to prepare quickly. First impressions are everything.\"\n\nHer heart pounded in her chest, her temples throbbed with blood and her hands trembled. She mastered it by clenching her hands into fists. And calmed herself by breathing deeply. She relaxed her shoulders and tried to move her stiff neck.\n\nOnce more she glanced into the big mirror. The sight was quite satisfactory. Her eyes and lips had been painted, after her bath her damp hair had been trimmed and combed, so that it at least partially obscured the scar on her face. She wore a silver shirt, open to mid-thigh, a red vest and a silk blouse. The neck scarf she had been given touched it off nicely.\n\nShe adjusted the scarf and then reached under her skirt to check with amazement the underwear she wore. Briefs as thin as gossamer and stockings, which inexplicably stayed on her thighs without suspenders." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She reached for the door handle. She hesitated, as if it was not a door handle, but a sleeping cobra.\n\nThe plague, she automatically thought in Elvish, I've dealt with armed men. I can deal with...\n\nShe closed her eyes and sighed. And entered the room.\n\nNo one was inside. On the table lay a book and an old malachite carafe. On the walls were strange bas reliefs, draped curtains and floral tapestries. In one corner stood a statue. And in the other corner, abed with a canopy. Her heart started pounding again. She swallowed.\n\nFrom the corner of her eye she saw movement. Not in the chamber. Out on the terrace.\n\nHe sat there, his back to her in a half profile.\n\nAlthough she had learned that among the elves nobody looked like how she used to believe, Ciri was shocked. Every time they had spoken of a king, she had imagined someone like Ervyll of Verden, who she had been very close to becoming his daughter on one occasion. When thinking of the king she remembered him smelling of onions and beer, a smelly fat man with swollen eyes and a red nose stick out from over his beard and wielding a sceptre in his hand covered in brown spots and bitten nails.\n\nOn the terrace sat quite a different king.\n\nHe was very thin and apparently very tall. He wore a black Jacket and traditional high elven boots with buckles across the length of the leg. His long, grey hair, fell down over sloping shoulders and down his back. His hands were white and narrow, with long fingers.\n\nHe was busy blowing bubble. He held a bowl with soap and water and a straw, into which he blew again and again, as iridescent rainbow bubbles floated down to the river." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ciri coughed softly.\n\nThe King of the Alders turned. Ciri could not help but sigh. His eyes were extraordinary. Clear as molten lead and huge. And full of indescribable sadness.\n\n\"Zireael,\" he said. \"Thank you for agreeing to see me.\"\n\nCiri stood silently not knowing what to say. Auberon Muircetach blew into the straw again, and launched another bubble into the air.\n\nTo control her trembling hands, she clasped them together and cracked her fingers, then nervously smoothed her hair. The elf didn't notice as all his attention was focused on the bubbles.\n\n\"Are you nervous?\"\n\n\"No,\" she blatantly lied. \"I'm not. '\n\n\"Are you in a hurry?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\nShe probably put too much defiance in her voice, she felt that she was teetering on the edge of civility. The elf gave no sign that he noticed, instead he inflated a huge bubble at the end of his straw. He admired his work fora longtime.\n\n\"Would I be unduly curious, if I asked where you are in such a hurry to go?\"\n\n\"Home,\" she said, but then added in a gentler tone. \"To my world.\"\n\n\"To where?\"\n\n\"To my world!\"\n\n\"Ah. Sorry. I could have sworn you said– \"My mule.\" It made me flustered. You speak our language perfectly, but you should pay more attention to intonation and pronunciation.\"\n\n\"Is it important to intonate? It would not if you had not brought me hereto talk.\"\n\n\"Nothing hurts when aspiring to perfection.\"\n\nFrom the end of the straw emerged anew bubble which detached and began to float through the air, before exploding on impact with a willow branch. Ciri sighed again" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So you are in a hurry to return to your world,\" said King Auberon Muircetach. \"Your world! You people really do not suffer from excessive modesty. Your hairy ancestors appeared with sword in hand latter than the chickens. And yet I have never heard a hen claim that it was'their world\". Why are you fidgeting like a monkey? What I'm saying should interest you. After all, it is your history. Oh, let me guess– you do not care about this story and you're bored.\"\n\nThe breeze carried another bubble away down the river. Ciri remained silent, biting her lip.\n\n\"Your hairy ancestors,\" the elf continued, shaking the straw in the bowl, \"quickly learned to use their opposable thumb and rudimentary intelligence. With their help they did different things, usually as ridiculous as terrible. What I mean to say is that, if anything that your ancestors created was not terrible, then it was ridiculous.\"\n\nAnother bubble followed the first then another.\n\n\"We, Aen Elle, we cared very little about the deeds of your ancestors, we unlike the Aen Seidhe, our cousins, we left that world along time ago. We chose another universe, more interesting. In that time, it will surprise you, it was possible to move freely from one world to another quite easily. With some talent and practice, that is. I have no doubt that you understand what I mean.\"\n\nCiri was intrigues, but remained silent, aware that the elf was teasing. She did not want to facilitate the task.\n\nAuberon Muircetach smiled. He turned around. On his neck was a golden torc– a symbol of the ruler, known in the elder speech as a torc'h.\n\n\"Mire, luned.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Extend the narrative as the author's co-writer.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 6" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So you are in a hurry to return to your world,\" said King Auberon Muircetach. \"Your world! You people really do not suffer from excessive modesty. Your hairy ancestors appeared with sword in hand latter than the chickens. And yet I have never heard a hen claim that it was'their world\". Why are you fidgeting like a monkey? What I'm saying should interest you. After all, it is your history. Oh, let me guess– you do not care about this story and you're bored.\"\n\nThe breeze carried another bubble away down the river. Ciri remained silent, biting her lip.\n\n\"Your hairy ancestors,\" the elf continued, shaking the straw in the bowl, \"quickly learned to use their opposable thumb and rudimentary intelligence. With their help they did different things, usually as ridiculous as terrible. What I mean to say is that, if anything that your ancestors created was not terrible, then it was ridiculous.\"\n\nAnother bubble followed the first then another.\n\n\"We, Aen Elle, we cared very little about the deeds of your ancestors, we unlike the Aen Seidhe, our cousins, we left that world along time ago. We chose another universe, more interesting. In that time, it will surprise you, it was possible to move freely from one world to another quite easily. With some talent and practice, that is. I have no doubt that you understand what I mean.\"\n\nCiri was intrigues, but remained silent, aware that the elf was teasing. She did not want to facilitate the task.\n\nAuberon Muircetach smiled. He turned around. On his neck was a golden torc– a symbol of the ruler, known in the elder speech as a torc'h.\n\n\"Mire, luned.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Again he blew lightly into the straw while gently swaying. A fan of smaller bubbles soared into the air.\n\n\"The worlds were like these bubbles,\" he hummed. \"So, it was, so it was... We told ourselves, what's the difference, we will stay here a little while, then there a little while, so what if the stupid Dh'oine insist on destroying themselves and the world? We'll go somewhere else, to another bubble... '\n\nUnder his burning gaze, Ciri nodded and licked her lips. The elf smiled again, and blew his bubbles again, this time so that the straw formed a large cluster of smaller bubbles and joined to each other.\n\n\"Then came the Conjunction,\" the elf raised his straw laden with bubbles. \"The number of worlds increased. But the door closed. It was closed to all but a handful of elected people. And the clock was ticking. We needed to open the door. Urgently. It was imperative. Do you understand that word?\"\n\n\"I'm not stupid. '\n\n\"No, you're not, \"he turned his head again.\"You cannot be. You are Aen Hen Ichaer, the Elder Blood. Come. '\n\nHe extended his hand and Ciri inadvertently clenched her teeth. But Auberon only touched her forearm and then her hands. She felt a pleasant tingling. She dared to look into his incredible eyes.\n\n\"When I was told, I did not believe it,\" he whispered. \"But it is true. Your eyes are Shiadhal. Lara's eyes. '\n\nCiri looked down. She felt stupid and insecure. The King of the Alders rested his elbows on the railing and his chin in his hands.\n\nFora longtime it seemed like her was only interesting in the swans swimming in the river." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Thanks for coming,\" he said finally, without turning his head. \"Now go away and leave me alone.\"\n\nShe found Avallac'h on a terrace by the river, just about to board a boat in the company of a beautiful elf with hair the color of straw. The elf's lips were painted a pistachio color and her eyelids and temples were painted with gold.\n\nCiri was about to turnaround and leave when a gesture from Avallac'h restrained her. With another gesture he invited her onto the boat. She hesitated. She did not want to talk in front of witnesses. Avallac'h said a few quiet words to the elf and kissed her hand. The elf shrugged and walked away. Only once did she glance at Ciri and her eyes show exactly what she thought of her.\n\n\"If you can, refrain from comment,\" said Avallac'h as she sat on a bench in the bow. He sat down across from her, pulled out his flute and began to play, ignoring the boat completely.. Ciri watched anxiously., but the boat slid perfectly into the middle of the river, without deviating an inch. The boat was very strange, Ciri had never seen anything like it, even in Skellige where one could see everything that could move through water. It had a high bow carved into the shape of a key, was very narrow and very shaky. Indeed, only an elf could sit in something like this and play carefree on a flute, instead of rowing and steering.\n\nAvallac'h stopped playing.\n\n\"What is it that troubles you?\"\n\nHe listened to Ciri's story with a vague smile.\n\n\"You're disappointed, \"he did not ask.\"Disappointed and disillusioned and above all outraged. '\n\n\"Not at all! I'm not! '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You should not be,\" the elf became serious. \"Auberon treated you with reverence, as a native Aen Elle. Do not forget, we, the People of the Alders, do not ever hurry. We have time.\"\n\n\"He told me something else.\"\n\n\"I know what he said.\"\n\n\"What he wanted, well, you know?\"\n\n\"Certainly.\"\n\nShe had learned a lot. She did not sigh nor gave a hint of impatience or irritability when he put the flute to his lips and started playing again. Melodic and wistful.\n\nThe boat sailed and bridges passed overhead.\n\n\"We have very serious reasons for believing,\" he said after the fourth bridge had passed, \"that your world is in danger of disappearing. Ina natural disaster no a massive scale. You do have some elementary education, so you must have heard of the Aen Ithlinnespeath– the Ithlinne's Prophecy. She speaks of the time of the White winter. In our opinion, it will be a powerful ice age. It will be so extensive that it threatens the existence of most living creatures. They will simply die from the cold. Those who survive will fall into barbarism, killing each other in ruthless battles for food, they will become prey to predators mad with hunger. Remember the text from the prophecy– The time of contempt, the Axe and the Wolf's Blizzard.\"\n\nCiri did not interrupt him, afraid that he would start playing the flute again.\n\n\"The child, on which so much depends,\" said Avallac'h as he played with his flute,\"will be a descendant of Lara Dorren and a carrier of the gene, a gene that was specially built by us, it may save the inhabitants of your world. We have reason to think that the descendant of Lara and your child, of course, will have abilities a thousand times more powerful than those we have, the Knowing ones. The same as you yourself possess. Do you know what I mean? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ciri had learned that in the Elder Speech such rhetorical figures, although seemingly questions, do not require an answer, but simply prohibit a response.\n\n\"In short,\" continued Avallac'h,\"we will have the opportunity to travel between the worlds, and not for only a single person. We want to open Ard Gaeth– The Great Gate, which all will pass through. We could do this before the Conjunction, and we will achieve it now. We will evacuate the dying world and the Aen Seidhe who live there, our brothers,\n\nwhom we are obliged to help. We do not neglect such a responsibility. We will take all of the world's endangered, Zireael. Everyone, even the humans.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Ciri couldn't contain herself.\"Even the Dh'oine?\"\n\n\"Yes. Trust me. Do you now see how important you are, how we care about you? It is imperative that you be patient. It is important that you return to Auberon and spend the night with him. Believe me, his behavior has not been a sign of reluctance. He knows, that for you this is not easy and does not wish to be inappropriately hasty. He knows many things, Swallow. You may have no doubt noticed.\"\n\n\"Yes, I've noticed, \"she snorted.\"I've also noticed that the current has bore us quite far from Tir Na Lia. Time to take the oars. Which, moreover, I do not see here.\"\n\n\"Because they are not here,\" Avallac'h raised his arm, turned his hand and snapped his fingers. The boat stopped. It stood in place, then began to move against the current.\n\nThe elf sat comfortably, put his flute to his lips and completely devoted himself to music." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "That night, the King of the Alders invited her to dinner. When she entered, accompanied by the rustle of silk, he motioned her to sit down at the table. There were no servants. He served himself.\n\nDinner consisted of more than a dozen varieties of vegetables, there were also mushrooms, fried, stewed and dipped in sauce. Ciri had never tried that kind of mushroom. Some were white and thin like leaves with a delicate and delicious flavor, others were brown and black, aromatic and fleshy.\n\nThe meal was washed down with rose wine, which was light and relaxed the tongue. Before she knew it, she had told him things that she never thought she'd tell anyone. He listened patiently. And then she suddenly remembered what it was she had come hereto do. She frowned and stopped.\n\n\"As I understand it,\" Auberon said, offering her another kind of mushroom, greenish and smelling like apple pie, \"you are convinced that destiny binds you to this man, Geralt?\"\n\n\"That's right, \"she said, picking up a glass with lipstick marks around the edges.\"Destiny. He, that is, Geralt, is predestined for me, and I him. Our fates are intertwined. Therefore it would be better if I left immediately. Do you understand? '\n\n\"I admit, not much.\"\n\n\"Destiny,\" she drank a little wine. \"The power that is not advisable to resist. So I think... No, no, thank you, I do not want more, I am stuffed to bursting.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"I think it is wrong for you to keep me here. And if you force me... Well, you know what I mean. I have to leave here, and hurry to their aid... Because my destiny...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Fate,\" he interrupted, raising his cup. \"Predestination. Something that is inevitable. The mechanism that causes a virtually infinite number of unforeseeable events to necessarily lead to one result and not another. Is that it?\"\n\n\"Exactly!\"\n\n\"So where and why do you want to go? Drink wine, enjoy the moment, enjoy life. What is to come, will come, if it is inevitable.\"\n\n\"It's not that simple. '\n\n\"Thus contradicting yourself.\"\n\n\"That's not true. '\n\n\"You deny the denial, that's a vicious circle. '\n\n\"No,\" she said shaking her head. \"You can't sit there and do nothing. Nothing comes by itself! '\n\n\"That's a sophism. '\n\n\"You cannot mindlessly waste time! You'll miss the right moment... There is often only one, unrepeatable. Time cannot go backwards. '\n\n\"Excuse me,\" he said, getting up from the table. \"Look at this.\"\n\nHe pointed to a wall, which was decorated with an embossed relief depicting a giant scaly snake. The reptile was rolled into the shape of a figure eight with its teeth biting its own tail. Ciri had seen a similar representation, but could not remember where it was.\n\n\"Here you seethe snake Uroboros,\" said the elf. It is the symbol of infinity, eternal departure and eternal returns. It has neither beginnings nor ends. Time is like Uroboros. Time is the passing moments, like grains of sand in an hourglass. We try to measure acts and events, but Uroboros reminds us that every moment, in every deed and every event lurks in the past, the present and the future– in short, eternity. Every departure is also returning, every welcome is also a goodbye. Everything is simultaneously the beginning and the end. And you... \"the elf said, but did not look at the girl.\"You're the beginning and the end. And because there was a question of destiny, know that this is your destiny. Being the beginning and the end. Do you understand?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ciri hesitated a few seconds. But the vehement look from Auberon forced her to reply.\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\n\"Take off your clothes,\" he said it so casually and carelessly, she nearly exploded with anger. With trembling hands, she began to unbutton her bodice. The bodice was tight, and she had trouble with the hooks and buttons with her clumsy fingers. Although Ciri was in a hurry to get it over with, it took her along time to takeoff her clothes. But the elf gave no sense of hurry. As if, indeed, he had all eternity.\n\nWho knows, she thought. Maybe he does.\n\nOnce she was naked, she shifted from foot to foot, the ground was cold. Auberon realized and wordlessly, he pointed to the bed. The bedspread were mink. Extensively formed by many skins sewn together. Warm, soft and comfortable.\n\nHe lay beside her, dressed from head to toe, even with boots on.\n\nWhen he touched her, she could not help but stiffen and was angry with herself as she was determined to show him she was proud and distant to the end. Her teeth, needless to say, chattered slightly. But the elf's electrifying touch calmed her, and his fingers began to teach and give orders. To give directions. In time she began to assimilate so well to his indications she could almost anticipate them. She closed her eyes and imagined it was Mistle who was at her side. But it did notwork because he was not at all like Mistle.\n\nHis hand taught her what to do. She obeyed. Even happy. Hastily.\n\nHe did not hurry. His touch was like soft silk. He made her moan. Biting her lip. He got her whole body to contract in a violent spasm." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What he did then, she did not expect.\n\nHe got up and walked away. Leaving her flushed, panting and trembling.\n\nHe did not even look at her.\n\nCiri's blood rushed to her face and forehead. She curled upon the mink bedspread. And began to sob in anger, shame and humiliation.\n\nThe next morning, she sought out Avallac'h and found him at the rear of the palace. He walked along the row of statues that depicted, to her surprise, elven children. In various, mainly playful poses. Especially the one with which the elf was interested in– a little boy with his mouth contorted in anger, with clenched fists, standing on one leg.\n\nCiri stared at it fora longtime, she felt a dull pain in her stomach. Only when Avallac'h urged her, she told him everything. Fragmented and with frequent omissions.\n\n\"He,\" said the elf when she had finished, \"has seen the smoke from the fires of more than six hundred and fifty Saovines. Believe me, Swallow, that's a lot even for the People of the Alders. '\n\n\"And what do I care?\" she snapped. \"We have a contract! Have your relatives the dwarves not told you what a contract is? I fulfilled my obligations! I surrendered! What does it matter tome if he cannot, or will not? What do I care if he had impotence or is not attracted tome? Maybe he abhors Dh'oine? What if like Eredin, when he see me he see a gold nugget in a pile of manure? '\n\n\"I hope,\" Avallac'h face lost its usual calm and changed,\"you didn't tell him something like that?\"\n\n\"I did not say anything. And not for lack of desire.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Be careful." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You do not know what you risk.\"\n\n\"I do not care. We had an agreement and I am free.\"\n\n\"Be careful, Zireael,\" repeated Avallac'h, noting the enraged expression on the statue of the boy's face. \"Do not behave like that here. Watch every word. Make an effort to understand. And if there is anything you do not understand, then do not use it as an excuse to act precipitously. Be patient. Remember that time is of no importance.\"\n\n\"For me it is!\"\n\n\"I told you not to behave like a stubborn child. I'll repeat– be patient with Auberon. It is your only chance at freedom. '\n\n\"Really?\" she shouted. \"I'm beginning to have my doubts! I'm beginning to suspect that you've tricked me! That you have all deceived me... '\n\n\"I promised,\" Avallac'h face was a dead as the stone of the statues,\"that you will return to your world. I've given my word. To doubt ones word is a very serious offence for the Aen Elle. To avoid you occurring such an offence, I propose that we settle this talk.\"\n\nHe went to leave, but Ciri blocked his way. He narrowed his aquamarine eyes and Ciri realized that she was dealing with a very dangerous elf. But it was too late to go back.\n\n\"It is typical of an elf,\" she hissed like a snake, \"to offend someone and not allow the other to take revenge.\"\n\n\"Be careful, Swallow!\"\n\n\"Listen tome,\" she lifted her head proudly. \"You King of the Alders is unable to comply, tome that is more than clear. No matter if it is his problem or if I'm guilty. That is not important. But I want to enforce the agreement. I want to get it over with. So let someone else get me with child, which you care so much about. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You do not know what you're talking about." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "'\n\n\"And if the problem is me,\" she did not change her tone or expression, \"that means you've made a mistake. Avallac'h. You've brought the wrong person to your world. '\n\n\"You do not know what you mean, Zireael.\"\n\n\"If he abhors me, we'll use the method that horse breeders use. Do you know how they do it? They take a mare to the stallion and then blindfold it and put a donkey in front of it. '\n\nAvallac'h did not even deign to reply. He unceremoniously ducked and walked down the row of statues.\n\n\"Or maybe you?\" she screamed. \"Do you want me to give myself to you! What do you say? Are you not willing to make that sacrifice? But you say I have the eyes of Lara!\"\n\nHe stood beside her in two leaps, his hands shot out like snakes and closed around her neck like steel tongs. She realized that if he wanted to, he could choke her like a little bird.\n\nHe released her. Then leaned over and looked into her eyes at close range.\n\n\"Who are you,\" he asked very quietly, \"to dare to so profane her name? Who are you to dare insult me with so miserable a pittance? Oh, I know, I can see who you are. You're the daughter of Lara Dorren. You are the daughter of Cregennan, you are an inconsiderable, arrogant, narcissistic dh'oine, a representative example of a race that knows nothing, but that has to ruin and destroy everything, who can defile with a touch alone and befoul with a mere thought. Your ancestors stole my love from me, smug and ruthlessly took her away. But you, are worthy to be his daughter, I will not let you take my memories of her away.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He turned away. Ciri overcame the resistance from her squashed larynx.\n\n\"Avallac'h. '\n\nHe looked at her.\n\n\"Forgive me. I behaved stupidly and miserably. Forgive me. And, if you can, forget it.\"\n\nHe walked over to her and hugged her.\n\n\"It's forgotten, \"he said kindly.\"No more talk about the matter. '\n\nThat night, when she appeared in the royal apartments, freshly bathed, perfumed and with her hair combed. Auberon sat at a table, leaning over a chessboard. Wordlessly, he invited her to sit in front of him.\n\nHe won in ten moves.\n\nThe second time they played, she was white, but he won in eleven moves.\n\nOnly then did he lookup, showing his clear eyes, so unique.\n\n\"Undress, please.\"\n\nAt least she had to acknowledge one thing– he acted with tact and never rushed.\n\nWhen, as on the previous occasion, he rose from the bed and left without saying anything, Ciri took it calmly and resignedly. Although she could not fall asleep until almost sunrise.\n\nBut when the first rays of dawn lit the windows she fell asleep and had a very strange dream.\n\nVysogota was hunched over, washing algae from his muskrat traps. In the wind they dry reeds rustled.\n\n\"I feel guilty, Swallow. It was I who pushed you to the idea of this mad escapade. And I who pointed you the way to that cursed tower.\"\n\n'Do not feel bad, Old Crow. If not for that tower, Bonhart would have gotten me. Here at least I am safe." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're not safe here. '\n\nVysogota straighten up.\n\nBehind him, Ciri could see a hill, bare and rounded, protruding from the grass like the bent back of a monster lurking in ambush. On the hill was a giant boulder. In addition to the rock, stood two figures. A woman and a girl. The wind tugged at the woman's black hair.\n\nOn the horizon, lightning flashed.\n\n\"Chaos stretches its hand towards you, daughter. Child of the Elder Blood. You are entangled in movement and change, in Destruction and Renewal. Chaos wants this power and it does not know if it is a tool to be used or an object in its plans. Not knowing if chance will make you a grain of sand in the gears of the clock of Fate. Chaos is afraid, Child Surprise. He wants to make you afraid, too. Therefore he sends you dreams.\"\n\nVysogota again hunched over and cleaned another trap. He is dead, Ciri thinks coolly. Does that mean that herein the afterlife, the dead are forced to clear muskrat traps?\n\nVysogota straightens up. Behind him, the sky glows from the reflection of burning fires. Across the plains rush thousands of horsemen in redcoats– Dearg Ruadhri.\n\n\"Listen carefully, Swallow. The Elder Blood that runs through your veins confers immense authority. You are the Lady of Space and Time. You have avast power. Do not let criminals and scoundrels snatch it and use it for their ignoble purpose. Fightback! Take it away from their thieving hands and wicked intentions!\"\n\n\"It is easy to say! I am trapped hereby some barrier or magical bond...\"\n\n\"You're the Lady of Space and Time. Nobody can imprison you. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Behind Vysogota is a plateau, a rocky plain covered in the wrecks of ships. Dozens of wrecks. And looking back further, black, menacing, toothed battlements, rising over a mountain lake.\n\n\"They'll die without your help, Swallow. Only you can save them. '\n\nYennefer's lips, broken, torn, move without making a sound, shedding blood. Her violet eyes burn within her haggard face, her matted black hair falls around her dirty face. Ina hole in the floor is a stinking puddle, there are rats everywhere. The walls of stone are cold. Chains bind her wrists and ankles...\n\nYennefer's fingers area mass of clotted blood.\n\n\"Mother! What have they done?\"\n\nMarble stairs led down. Three flights of stairs.\n\nVa 'esse deireádh aep eigean... Something ends... What?\n\nStairs. Below, afire burns in braziers. Burning tapestries.\n\nCome on, Geralt says. Down the stairs. We have to. Yes you have to. There is no other way. Only those stairs. I want to seethe sky.\n\nHis lips do not move. They are bruised and stained with blood. Blood, blood everywhere... The stairs, covered in blood...\n\n\"There is no other way. There isn't, Star Eyes. '\n\n\"How? How can I help them? I am in another world? I am a prisoner! I cannot do anything!\"\n\n\"No one can imprison you. Everything has already been covered,\" say Vysogota. \"Even this. Look at your feet.\"\n\nCiri sees with horror that she is standing in a sea of bones. Among skulls, tibias and bones." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Only you can prevent this from happening, Star Eyes.\"\n\nVysogota straightens up. Behind him, winter and snow. The wind blows and whistles.\n\nBefore her, in a blizzard, on a horse is Geralt. Ciri knows it, But his head is covered in a fur cap and a woolen scarf covers his face. Behind him in the blizzard, loom other riders, their lines are blurred, so thickly bundled that it is impossible to discern what they are.\n\nGeralt looks straight at her. But he does not see her. Snow pours into his eyes.\n\n\"Geralt! It's me! Here! '\n\nHe does not see her. Cannot hear her over the howling of the storm.\n\n\"Geraaaalt!\"\n\nSheep, Geralt says. It was probably just sheep. Let's go back. The riders disappear, melting into the falling snow.\n\n\"Geraaaaaalt! Noooooo!\"\n\nShe woke up.\n\nIn the morning she went straight to the stable, without breakfast. She did not want to run into Avallac'h, did not want to talk to him. She wanted to escape questioning, curious,\n\nintrusive elves and other their glances. Unlike any other matter they were clearly not indifferent regarding the royal bedchamber. Elves did not know how to hide their curiosity and Ciri had no doubt that the palace walls had ears.\n\nShe found Kelpie in her stall and brought up her saddle and harness. Before she could start saddling the mare, the little grey elves appeared two heads shorter than the Aen Elle. With smiles and bows they went to work.\n\n\"Thanks you,\" she said. \"I could have done it myself, but thank you. You are nice.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The closest elf smiled and Ciri flinched. In her smile she saw canine teeth.\n\nShe approached her in a hurry, when Ciri almost fell down in shock. She brushed the hair from the servants ear. An ear that did not end in a point.\n\n\"You're a human! '\n\nThe servant fell to her knees on the swept floor. All the others knelt too. Bowing their heads. Expecting punishment.\n\n\"I...\" Ciri began, while fingering the reins. \"I...\"\n\nShe didn't know what to say. The servants were still kneeling. The horses snorted and stamped restlessly in the stables.\n\nEven outside in the saddle at a trot she could not muster any ideas. Human females. As maids, servants, but no matter. The main thing was that even in this world there are Dh'oine...\n\nHuman, she corrected herself. I think as they do.\n\nShe was jarred from her thoughts by Kelpie's loud whinny. She lifted her head and saw Eredin. He sat on his dark brown stallion, now free from his demonic combat gear. The rider, however, wore chainmail under his red jacket.\n\nThe stallion screamed a hoarsely welcome, shook his head and grinned at Kelpie with yellow teeth. Kelpie, true to the principle that there are some issues that ventilate with the lords, not the servants, tries to put her teeth into the elf's thigh.\n\nCiri held the reins tightly.\n\n\"Be careful,\" she warned. \"Keep your distance. My mare does not like strangers. And she bites.\"\n\n\"Those that bite,\" he measure her with a supercilious look, \"should be curried with an iron brush. Until they bleed. This is the proven method for treating defiance. Not just for mares.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He jerked his reins so hard and violently, the horse grunted and backed away a few steps, from his mouth trickled foam.\n\n\"What's with the chainmail? \"the girl measured the elfin return.\"Are you going to war? '\n\n\"On the contrary, I long for peace. You mares vices aside, does it have any virtues?\"\n\n\"What kind?\"\n\n\"Maybe speed. We'll have a race? '\n\n\"If you want, why not,\" she stood in the stirrups. \"There, in the direction of those cromlechs...\"\n\n\"No,\" he interrupted. \"Not that way.\"\n\n\"Why not?\"\n\n\"It is forbidden ground.\"\n\n\"To everyone, of course.\"\n\n\"Not for everyone, of course. Your company, Swallow, is too valuable to us to risk that you'll lose it. On your initiative or at the initiative of others. '\n\n\"On the initiative of others? You're not thinking about unicorns? '\n\n\"I do not want to bore you with what I think. Nor be frustrated by the fact that you would not be able to understand my thoughts.\"\n\n\"I do not understand.\"\n\n\"I know that you do not understand. Evolution has not provided you with a sufficiently developed brain to understand. Listen, if you want to race, then I suggest we do so along the river. That way. To Porphyry Bridge, the third downstream, then to the other shore and further downstream to the mouth of the river. Ready?\"\n\n\"Always.\"\n\nWith a cry, the elf spurred the stallion, which took off like a hurricane, before Kelpie had even started, they had the advantage. But, though the earth was trembling in its wake, the stallion could not match Kelpie. The mare overtook him, just before reaching the bridge. The bridge was narrow. Eredin gave a cry and the stallion, incredibly, accelerated. Ciri immediately grasped what was going on. The bridge would not for anything in the world, fit two horses. One had to slowdown." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Ciri had no intention of slowing down." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She clung to the mane and Kelpie pulled forward like an arrow. Ciri brushed the stirrup of the elf and flew onto the bridge. Eredin's stallion screamed, reared up and struck an alabaster figure, it fell from its pedestal and smashed into pieces.\n\nCiri, giggling like a ghost, galloped across the bridge, without looking back.\n\nAt the mouth of the river she dismounted and waited.\n\nHe came at last, trotting, calmly, with a smile.\n\n\"My appreciation,\" he said, dismounting, \"for the mare and its rider.\"\n\nAlthough proud as a peacock, she careless spat.\n\n\"Ah! You should think about being combed with iron until you bleed.\"\n\n\"Unless you have consent,\" he smiled ambiguously. \"There are mares who like strong caresses.\"\n\n\"Quite recently,\" she looked at him defiantly, \"you likened me to a pile of manure. And now you're talking about caresses? '\n\nEredin approached Kelpie, rubbed and patted her neck and looked surprised to see that the mare was dry. Kelpie abruptly withdrew her head and let out a prolonged shriek. Eredin turned to Ciri. If he also gives me a pat, she thought, He will regret it.\n\n\"Come with me, please.\"\n\nThey walked along a stream, running down a steep, densely forested slopes, that led up to stairs made of rundown sandstone. The stairs were aged, cracked and torn by tree roots. All around them was forest, a primeval forest, where there were many old ash and hornbeam, yew trees, maples and oaks, their feet tangled in hazel bushes. It smelled of sage, nettle, wet stones, spring and mildew." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ciri walked quietly, without haste and with easy breaths. She also had her nerves under control. She had no idea what Eredin wanted from her, but she did not have the best feelings.\n\nAbove the rock step, from which fella narrow waterfall was a stone terrace. On it, shaded by elderberry bushes, was a gazebo wrapped in ivy. Below she could seethe trees, the ribbon of the river and the roofs, terraces and colonnades of Tir Na Lia.\n\nThey were silent fora while, watching the scene.\n\n\"Nobody told me,\" Ciri was the first to break the silence, \"the name of the river.\"\n\n\"Easnadh.\"\n\n\"The Sigh? Nice. And this stream.\"\n\n\"Tuathe.\"\n\n\"Whisper. Also nice. Why did no one tell me humans lived in this world?\"\n\n\"Because that information is completely irrelevant to you. Let's go to the gazebo. '\n\n\"What for?\"\n\n\"Let's go. '\n\nThe first thing she noticed after entering was the wooden couch. Ciri felt her temples begin to throb.\n\nSure, she thought, it was to be expected. I read a book in the temple about an affair, written by Anna Tiller. It was about an old king, the queen and the young duke from power hungry contenders. Eredin is ruthless, ambitious and determined. He knows that the one who is with the queen is the true king. Areal man. He who possess the queen, possess the kingdom. Here, on this couch, starts a coup...\n\nThe elf sat at a marble table, and pointed for Ciri to take a second chair. The view from the window seemed to be of more interest to him that she was, and he was not looking at the couch at all." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Here you will stay forever,\" he said, \"my light butterfly. Until the end of your life.\"\n\nShe said nothing. She looked into his eyes intently.\n\nThere was nothing in those eyes.\n\n\"You will not be allowed to leave here,\" he continued. \"They are unwilling to admit despite the prophecy and myth, you're nobody, you're nothing, only a creature without importance. Believe it, they will not let you go. They promised it to you, just to deceive you and to provide you your tractability. They never intended to make good on their promise. Never.\"\n\n\"Avallac'h, \"she said hoarsely,\"he gave his word. Doubting an elf's word is apparently an insult.\"\n\n\"Avallac'h is Aen Saevherne. The Knowing ones have their own code of honor, which with many noble phrases conceal an old rule that the end justifies the means. '\n\n\"I don't understand why you are telling me all this. Unless... You have something you want from me. You want to barter. What is it? Eredin? My freedom... For what? '\n\nHe stared at her fora longtime. And she vainly sought in his eyes some indication of a signal, a sign, anything.\n\n\"Undoubtedly,\" he began slowly, \"you already know little enough about Auberon. You certainly already noticed that he is ambitious. There are things that he'll never accept, never take note of. He'd sooner die.\"\n\nCiri was silent, biting her lip and glancing at the couch.\n\n\"Auberon Muircetach,\" said the elf, \"never uses magic or other means able to change a situation. But such means exist. Good, strong, guaranteed resources. Much more reliable than the pheromones that Avallac'h maids blend into your perfume. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "He quickly ran his handover the veined marble table." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When he removed his hand there was a bottle of grey-green jade.\n\n\"No,\" Ciri gasped. \"I will not. Absolutely not.\"\n\n\"You did not let me finish.\"\n\n\"Do not take me fora fool. I will not give him what is in this flask. I won't do those kind of things. '\n\n\"You draw to hasty conclusions,\" he said calmly, looking into her eyes, \"in this race, you are overtaking yourself. Something like that always ends in a fall. Avery painful fall.\"\n\n\"I said no!\"\n\n\"Think it over. Regardless of what the bottle contains, you always come out ahead, Swallow.\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\nWith a quick and smooth motion, like a magician, the elf make the bottle disappear from the table. The he looked again at the river Easnadh, which meandered thought the trees, gleaming.\n\n\"You'll die here, butterfly, \"he said.\"They will not let you go. But the decision is up to you. '\n\n\"I've made a covenant. For my freedom... '\n\n\"Freedom,\" he spat. \"You are still talking about freedom. What would you do if you finally regained it? Where would you go? Do you realize that you are on our world at the moment, not only in space but time. Time flows differently here that there. Those whom you knew as children are now elderly, those who you once knew have long since died.\"\n\n\"I do not believe it.\"\n\n\"Remember your legends. Legends about people missing and returning after a year, only to seethe graves of their relatives covered by grass. Are you going to say that they were pure fantasy, things taken from stories? You are wrong. For centuries, people have been kidnapped, snatched by riders, by the Wild Hunt. Abducted, exploited and then thrown away like an empty shell once consumed. But do not expect to be that lucky, Zireael. You will die here, you will not seethe graves of your friends.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I do not believe what you say.\"\n\n\"That is your personal thing. You chose your destiny. Let's go back. I want to ask you something, Swallow. Would it be ok to have a meal together before going back to Tir Na Lia? '\n\nFora few heartbeats, hunger, fought fascination and anger, fear of poising and a general dislike.\n\n\"I'd be happy to. \"She looked down.\"Thank you for the invitation. '\n\n\"Thank you. Let's go. '\n\nUpon leaving the gazebo, she looked back at the couch and thought that Anna Tiller was probably a fool and exalted scribomanic.\n\nSlowly, silently, between the smell of mint, sage and nettle, they went down the stairs. Down the banks of the steam, which was called Whisper.\n\nThat night, when she entered the royal apartments, perfumed, her hair still wet after bathing, she found Auberon on a couch leaning over a thick book. Without words, with a simple gesture, he invited her to sit beside him.\n\nThe book was richly illustrated. In fact, all that were in it were illustrations. Although Ciri tried to play the sophisticated lady, she felt her cheeks flush. In the temple library in Ellander she had seen similar works. But the book the King of the Alders had, those others could not compete in wealth or the variety of items, or the artistry of the imagery.\n\nThey view it in silence fora longtime.\n\n\"Take off your clothes, please.\"\n\nThis time, he too undressed. His body was lean and boyish, almost like Giselher, Kayleigh or Reef, who see had often saw naked as they bathed together in rivers or lakes. However, the Rats radiated youth, the joy of life around them sparkling like drops of water." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For him, the King of the Alders, throbbed cold eternity.\n\nHe was patient. Several times it seemed that he was about to. But nothing came of it. Ciri was angry with herself, she thought her ignorance or inexperience was to blame. He recognized this and calmed her. As always effectively. And she fell asleep.\n\nIn the morning her was not with her.\n\nThe next night, for the first time, the King of the Alders showed signs of impatience. Ciri found him leaning over a table, where there was a mirror set in a frame of amber. There was a white powder on the mirror.\n\nHere we go, thought Ciri.\n\nWith a knife, Auberon was gathering the fisstech and distributing it into two strips. He took a tube of silver off of the table and inhaled the drug through the nose, first by his left nostril, then his right. His eyes, usually bright, seemed off and turbid and filled with tears. Ciri immediately realized this was not the first dose.\n\nHe made to newlines on the glass and with a gesture invited her over, passing the tube. What does it matter, she thought, it will be easier.\n\nThe drug was incredibly strong.\n\nFora while they sat side by side on the bed and stared at the moon with watery eyes. Ciri sneezed.\n\n\"Lacing night,\" she said, wiping her nose with her silk sleeve.\n\n\"Magic,\" he corrected her, rubbing his eyes. \"Ensh'eass not en'leass. You have to pay attention to the pronunciation.\"\n\n\"I'll be careful. '\n\n\"Take off your clothes.\"\n\nAt first it seemed that everything would be okay, that the drug had excited him the same way that she was excited. She came alive and took the initiative, while even whispering some indecent words. That made him react and the effect was tangible, and Ciri was sure that this time, surely..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Again, it did notwork.\n\nAnd then he became impatient. He got up and threw a sable fur around his shoulders. He stood there, turned towards the window and stared at the moon. Ciri sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. She was frustrated and annoyed, but unusually vigorous. Undoubtedly it was the effects of the strong narcotics.\n\n\"It's my fault, \"she said.\"The scar has disfigured me. I know what you see when you look at me. There is not much elfin me. A gold nugget in a pile of manure... '\n\nHe whirled.\n\n\"You are extraordinarily modest,\" he said. \"I would say, rather, a pearl in pig manure. A diamond on a rotting finger of a corpse. The language could devise other comparisons. Tomorrow I'll ask about them, little dh'oine. A human in which this is absolutely nothing elven.\"\n\nHe went to the table, picked up the tube and bent over the mirror. Ciri sat as if made from stone. She felt as if someone had spat upon her.\n\n\"I do not come here out of love!\" she snapped angrily. \"I come under blackmail and you know it! But I agreed to do it, for...\"\n\n\"For who?\" he interrupted hotly, unlike your typical elf. \"For me? For the Aen Seidhe trapped in your world? You stupid girl! You do it for yourself, you come herein vain trying to give. Because it is your only hope, your only hope of salvation. I'll tell you again– prey, prey fervently to your human god, idols or totems. Because if it is not me, then it will be Avallac'h and his laboratory. You cannot even imagine what it would mean for you to go there and submit to the alternative.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I don't care, \"Ciri said in a muffled voice, curling upon the bed.\"I agreed to everything, just to regain my freedom. To be able to finally rid myself of you. To leave. To my world. To my friends. '\n\n\"Your friends!\" he sneered. \"Here is your friend!\"\n\nSuddenly he turned and threw the fisstech covered mirror.\n\n\"Here is your friend,\" he repeated. \"Look closely.\"\n\nHe left the room, the sable fur trailing on the ground.\n\nShe looked into the mirror and saw only her blurred reflection. But almost immediately the mirror brightened and filled with smoke. And then an image.\n\nYennefer hanging in an abyss, her arms raised taunt above her head. The sleeves of her dress are like the outstretched wings of a bird. Her hair is wavy and fish swim among it. A whole school offish flicker around her. Some start to nibble at the cheeks and eyes of the sorceress. From Yennefer's legs a rope leads down to the bottom of a lake, trapped between the mud and seaweed, a large basket of stones. Above in the sky, the sun shines down on the face of the water.\n\nYennefer's dress ripples around her like seaweed.\n\nThe smoke obscures the surface of the mirror, stained with fisstech.\n\nGeralt, pale as glass, his eyes closed, is still frozen under some long icicles hanging from rocks, and will soon be buried by the blizzard. His white hair is now amass of ice, a white frost envelops his eyebrows, eyelashes and lips. The snow will not stop falling on Geralt, it surrounds him covering his legs and shoulders with a soft blanket." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The blizzard howls and whistles...\n\nCiri jumped up and slammed the mirror hard against the wall. The amber frame burst and the glass shattered.\n\nShe recognized these kind of vision, she remembered them and knew what they were. Her old dreams.\n\n\"This is not true,\" she cried. \"You hear me, Auberon! I don't believe it! It's a lie! A deception! It's just your anger, helpless at yourself! It's your anger...\"\n\nShe sat down on the floor and began to cry.\n\nShe suspected that the walls of the palace had ears. The next day, she could not endure the looks directed at her, she felt like they were laughing at her back. Avallac'h was nowhere to be found.\n\nHe knows, she thought, what happened and is trying to avoid me. Before I got up, he probably got faraway, by land or by river, with his gold makeup elf. He doesn't want to talk tome, doesn't want to recognize that all of his plans have collapsed.\n\nShe could also not find Eredin. But that was quite normal– he was often out of the city accompanied by his Dearg Ruadhri, his Red Riders.\n\nCiri went and got Kelpie from the stables and went across the river. She was deep in thought and took no notice to anything around her.\n\nI have to escape. It does not matter if those visions were true or false. On things is certain– Yennefer and Geralt are faraway in my world and my place is with them. I have to getaway, get out of here as quickly as possible. There must be some possibility. The same way I got here, O have to get myself out of here. Eredin suggested that I have a wild talent and Vysogota thought the same thing. I examined every corner of Tor Zireael, I found no portal, no exit. But maybe there is another tower somewhere..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She looked to the horizon and saw a remote hill, on whose summit towered against the sky, silhouettes of cromlechs. A forbidden area, she thought. Ha, I can see that it is too far. The barrier will probably not let me get there. It would be pointless exertion. I'd rather head up the river, I've never been there...\n\nKelpie snorted, shook her head and stamped her feet. She did not turnaround, instead she started trotting towards the hill. Ciri was stunned fora moment to the point that she did not respond and let the mare run. Only after awhile did she shout and pull on the reins. The result was that Kelpie reared, kicked and galloped onwards. Still in the same direction.\n\nCiri did not try and stop her, or try and control her. She was amazed. She knew Kelpie very well. The mare had quirks, but not like this. This behavior must mean something.\n\nKelpie slowed to a trot. She went up the side of the hill crowned with the cromlechs. A league or so, Ciri thought. The magic barrier will start to work soon.\n\nThe mare walked into the circle of stones, formed by a series of monoliths, fallen and mosses, very close together, which arose thought the brambles and suddenly sank into the ground. She did not move a muscle, except her ears, which stretched to hear better.\n\nCiri tried to turn her around and move. But it was in vain. If it wasn't from her neck veins throbbing hot, she would have sworn she was sitting on a statue of a horse.\n\nSuddenly, she felt something on her shoulders, something sharp that went through her clothes and prodded her, hurting. Something was behind her. Emerging from behind some rocks, making no noise, appeared a unicorn with a redcoat, with precise movements it thrust its horn under her armpit. Hard. Sharply. She felt blood trickle from her side." }, { "from": "human", "value": "From the other side emerged another unicorn." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This one was completely white, from the tips of its ears to the end of its tail. Only his nostrils were pink and his eyes black. He approached her from the side, slowly, and very carefully put his head in her lap. The excitement was so strong that Ciri moaned.\n\nI've grownup, a voice echoed in her head. I've grownup, Star Eyes. Then in the desert, I did not know how to behave. Now I know.\n\n\"Little horse?\" she moaned, almost hanging from the two hors that were clicking together.\n\nMy name is Ihuarraquax. Do you remember me, Star Eyes? Do you remember how you healed me? How you saved me?\n\nHe stepped back and turned around. Ciri could see a trace of a scar on his leg. She recognized him. She remembered him,.\n\n\"Little horse! It is you! But you had a different coat... You've grownup. '\n\nSuddenly then was confusion in her head, whispers, voices, shouts and whinnies. The horns drew back. She saw that the other unicorn behind her back coat was blue.\n\nThe older ones are learning from you, Star eyes. Through me, they are learning from you. A little more and they'll be able to speak for themselves. Soon they will tell you what they expect from you.\n\nThe cacophony in Ciri's head exploded in an indescribable riot. But soon it relented, and began to flow like a stream of thoughts, clear and understandable.\n\nWe want to help you escape, Star Eyes.\n\nShe was silent, but her heart pounded in her chest.\n\nWhere is the crazy joy? Where is the thanks?\n\n\"Where,\" she asked aggressively, \"does this sudden urge to help me come from? Perhaps I failed to win your love?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "You have our love." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But this is not your world. There is no place for you here.\n\nShe clenched her teeth. Although encouraged by the sudden hope, she shook her head dismissively. Little horse– Ihuarraquax– ears pricked up, stamped his hooves and stared at her with his black eyes. The red unicorn stamped until the earth trembled and shook menacingly. He snorted angrily and Ciri understood.\n\nYou do not trust us.\n\n\"I do not trust you,\" she said coldly. \"Everyone here plays their game and I, who don't know the rules, am being used. Why should I believe you now? Between you and the elves apparently there is no friendship, I saw it there, in the wilderness, and there was almost a fight. I can safely assume that you want to use me to annoy the elves. I also do not like them, they imprisoned me and forced me to do something that I did not want. But I will not let you use me. '\n\nRed shook his head, his horn again made a dangerous move. Blue whinnied. Ciri's skull thudded and picked up their thoughts which were ominous.\n\n\"Oh, she said.\"You're just like them. Be obedient and show humility, or violence and death! I'm not afraid. I will not be used! '\n\nShe felt chaos and confusion in her head. It lasted fora while, until from the chaos emerged legible thoughts.\n\nThat's fine, Star Eyes, you do not like being used. That is precisely our idea. What we want, no more no less, is to guarantee that. For you and for ourselves. And the entire world. In all worlds.\n\n\"I don't understand. '\n\nYou're a dangerous weapon, a threat. We cannot let that weapon fall into the hands of the King of the Alders, the Fox and Sparrowhawk." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Who?\" she said \"Oh...\"\n\nThe King of the Alders is an elder. But the Fox and Sparrowhawk cannot gain mastery over the Ard Gaeth, the Gate of Worlds. Once they had it. And then lost it. Now all they can do is wander between the worlds as impotent ghosts. The Fox has reached Tir ná Béa\n\nArainne, and Sparrowhawk and his riders can get to the Spiral. They do not have the strength to go anywhere else. That's why they dream of Ard Gaeth and power. We can show you how to use that power. I'll show you, Star Eyes, when you leave here.\n\n\"I can't escape from here. I can't get past the magic barrier– Geas Garadh.\"\n\nYou cannot be imprisoned. You are the Lady of the Worlds.\n\n\"No. I have no special talent, I have no control over anything. And I renounced my powers a year ago, back in the desert. Little horse witnessed it.\"\n\nIn the desert you gave up only insignificant quackery. The power that is in your blood, you cannot give up. It is with you all the time. We well teach you how to use it.\n\n\"And it is not by chance, she cried,\"that this power that gives dominion over worlds, you want me to give to you? '\n\nNot so. We do not need to gain this power. For we have had it forever.\n\nTrust them, Ihuarraquax requested. Trust them, Star Eyes.\n\n\"On one condition.\"\n\nThe Red unicorn abruptly raised his head, opened his nostrils and she could swear his eyes threw sparks. They will not like it, Ciri thought, when I give them the condition, they do not even like the sound of the word. The Plague, I do not know what I'm doing... I hope this doesn't end in tragedy... '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We are listening. What is this condition?\n\n\"Ihuarraquax will come with me.\"\n\nThat evening the sky became cloudy and it became muggy, from the river rose a thick, stick mist. When it became dark, from afar came muffled thunder and lightning lit up the horizon.\n\nCiri had long been prepared. Dressed in black riding clothes, with her sword on her back, tense and impatient, waiting for the coming of night. When it came, she silently walked through deserted halls and stealthily took arcades and descended terraces. The willow rustled down by the River Easnadh.\n\nIn the sky distant thunder rolled.\n\nCiri got Kelpie from the stables. The mare knew what was expected of her and obediently trotted towards Porphyry Bridge. Ciri stared fora moment behind her, looking at the terrace where the boats were moored.\n\nI can't, she thought. I have to see him again. Maybe it will succeed in delaying pursuit. It's risky, But it cannot be helped.\n\nAt first, she thought he was not there, that the royal apartments were empty, the silence and stillness were absolute.\n\nAfter a moment, she saw him. He was in a corner, sitting on a couch, with a white shirt that exposed his narrow shoulders. The fabric was so delicate that if clung to his body as if wet. The face and hands of the King of the Alders were almost as white as his shirt.\n\nHe looked up at her, those eyes were empty.\n\n\"Shiadhal?\" she whispered. \"Thank goodness you're here. You know, they have been saying that you're dead.\"\n\nHe opened his hand and something fell to the carpet. It was the grey-green bottle." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Lara,\" the King of the Alders shook his head and touched his neck as if the golden royal torc'h was choking him.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Cáemm a me, Luned. Come tome daughter. Cáemm a me, elaine. '\n\nHis breath smelled of death.\n\n\"Elaine blath, fainne wedd...\" he crooned. \"Look, luned, you have untied your ribbon... Let me...\"\n\nHe tried to raise his hand, but he failed. He sighed deeply, raised his hand abruptly and looked into her eyes. This time they were alive.\n\n\"Zireael,\" he said, \"Loc'hlaith, you are destined to be the Lady of the Lake, and mine as it turns out. '\n\n\"Va'esse deireádh aep eigean... ' he said after a moment and Ciri in horror realized that his movements and words had begun to slow.\n\n\"But,\" he added with a sigh, \"it is a good thing that, something also begins.\"\n\nThrough the window cane the lengthy sound of thunder. The storm was still faraway.\n\nBut it was fast approaching.\n\n\"Yet,\" spoke the king, \"I have no desire to die, Zireael. And I find it terribly sad that it has to happen. Who would have thought. I thought that I would have no regrets. I have live along time, I have known everything. I'm bored of it all... However, now I fell regret. And do you want to know something else? Come closer, I whisper it. Let it be our secret. '\n\nCiri leaned forward.\n\n\"I'm afraid, ' he whispered.\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"Are you with me?\"\n\n\"I am.\"\n\n\"Va Faill, Luned.\"\n\n\"Goodbye, King of the Alders/\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She sat beside him, still holding his hand after his breathing hushed and ceased. She did not wipe away her tears. She let them flow.\n\nThe storm was approaching. On the horizon lightning burned.\n\nShe ran down the marble staircase to the pier at which the boats bobbed. She untied one of them which she had set her eye on that evening. She left the pier, pushing off with a mahogany pole that had previously been used to hang curtains. She doubted the fact that the boat would obey her commands like it did Avallac'h.\n\nThe boat glided silently downstream. Tir Na Lia was dark and quiet. Only the status on the terraces gazed at her with dead eyes. Ciri was counting bridges.\n\nThe sky above lit up with a flash of lightning. After a second, thundered rumbled across the sky.\n\nThe third bridge.\n\nSomething flashed across the bridge, quiet, agile, like a big black rat. It rocked the boat when it jumped into the bow. Ciri dropped the pole and drew her sword.\n\n\"I see,\" hissed Eredin Bréacc Glas, \"you want to deprive us of your company?\"\n\nHe also drew his sword. During a brief lightning flash she was able to seethe weapon. The blade was single-edged, slightly curved, with polished finish and uniformly sharp. The hilt was long and the hand-guard was a circular plate. She could see right away that the elf knew how to use the sword.\n\nUnexpectedly, he rocked the boat, stomping on the side. Ciri deftly balanced by tilting her boat with the movements of the boat, and in turn used the same trick when he jumped with both feet on the opposite side. He did not lose his balance either." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He attacked. She parried his lunged rather instinctively, because in the dark she could barely see. She returned his attack with a quick bottom cut. Eredin parried and struck out again, Ciri deflected the blow. From the blades, sparks flew.\n\nAgain he rocked the boat. Ciri spread her arms and balanced on the bench. He stepped towards the bow and lowered his sword.\n\n\"Where did you learn all this, Swallow?\"\n\n\"You'd be surprised. '\n\n\"I doubt it. The river can overcome the barrier. Did you figure this out yourself or did someone advise you?\"\n\n\"I doesn't matter. '\n\n\"Yes it does. And we'll find out. We have our ways. But now, drop the sword and return. '\n\n\"Never.\"\n\n\"We are going back, Zireael. Auberon is waiting. I guarantee that tonight he will be full of desires and requests.\"\n\n\"I doubt it,\" she said. \"He overdosed on the stimulant you gave him. Or was it meant to do something else entirely?\"\n\n\"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"He's dead. '\n\nHe quickly shook of his surprise and lunged at her, rocking the boat. She balanced and exchanged a few angry cuts, the water carried the sound of the vibrant clash of steel on steel.\n\nLightning lit up the night. Another bridge passed overhead.\n\nOne of the last of Tir Na Lia's bridges. Or is it the last?\n\n\"Surely you realize, Swallow,\" he said hoarsely, \"that you are only delaying the inevitable. I cannot let you leave.\"\n\n\"Why? Auberon is dead. And I'm nobody and of no importance. It was you who told me that. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Because that is the truth,\" he said raising his sword. \"You mean nothing. You area tiny moth, which I can crush between my two fingers into silver powder. But if left alone, you can do irreparable damage to the most precious fabric. You are nothing. Nothing but annoying.\"\n\nLightning flashed again. In the light Ciri could see what she wanted to see. The elf had his sword raised and waving, pointing to the back of the boat. He had the height advantage. She had to win the next attack.\n\n\"You dared to take up arms against me, Zireael. It's too late to regret or forgive something like that. I will not kill you. But a few weeks in bed with bandages will do you good. '\n\n\"Hold on. I want to say something else. I want to reveal a secret.\"\n\n\"What do you have to tell me?\" he laughed. \"What pathetic secret?\"\n\n\"This, that you will not fit under this bridge.\"\n\nWithout anytime to react, he hit the bottom of the bridge, and flew forward, losing his balance completely. Ciri could simply throw him out of the boat, however, that was not\n\nenough and she was afraid that he would continue his pursuit. Moreover, he intentionally or by negligence killed the King of the Alders. And he had to feel pain.\n\nShe stabbed him in the thigh, just below the chainmail. He did not even scream. He jumped overboard into the river and the waters closed over him.\n\nShe turned back to see what was going to happen. It took along time before he floated to the top. Ina flash of lightning she watched him made his way to the shore and remain lying in the mud and blood.\n\n\"A few weeks in bed in bandages,\" she muttered, \"will do you good.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She grabbed the pole and pushed hard. The Easnadh river was getting more rough, the boat ran faster. Soon she left the last of the buildings of Tir Na Lia behind.\n\nShe did not look back.\n\nAt first it was very dark, the boat sailed through the old forest, the trees and branches touched together above the river, creating a tunnel. Then it began to brighten. The forest ended and on both sides were alders, reeds and cattails. In the clear river appeared clusters of aquatic plants, drifting on the current. When the lightning flashed, she noticed circles on the water, and before the thunder drowned out all sound, she heard the splashing of startled fish. Several times, not far from the boat, she saw big phosphorescent eyes, and the boat repeated collided with something big and alive.\n\nEverything in this world seems beautiful, but to strangers it means death, she silently repeated Eredin's words.\n\nThe river widened and islands and channels began to appear. She allowed the boat to sail on luck, along with the current. But she began to be afraid. What happens If I make a mistake or flow the wrong branch?\n\nWhile she thought, she heard a whinny from Kelpie and hear an intense mental signal from the unicorn.\n\n\"There you are, Little horse!\"\n\nWe must hurry, Star Eyes. Follow me.\n\n\"To my world?\"\n\nFirst I have to show you something. I was ordered to by the elders.\n\nThey rode firstly through the forest steppe, then through densely chopped ravines and gorges. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed. The storm was getting closer and the wind raged.\n\nThe unicorn led Ciri to one of the gorges.\n\nIt is here." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is here?\"\n\nGo down and see.\n\nShe obeyed. The ground was uneven and she stumbled. There was a click and something rolled under her feet. There was a flash and Ciri gasped. She was in the middle of a sea of bones.\n\nThey had been a landslide probably because of the intensity of the downpours. And it had revealed what it had been hiding. A graveyard. A large mass grave. A huge pile of bones.\n\nTibiae, pelvis, ribs, femurs. Skulls.\n\nCiri picked one up.\n\nAgain the lightning flashed and she screamed. She knew whose bones were lying here. The skull which had been cleaved by a sharp blade had canines.\n\nNow you know. Now you understand. They did this, the Aen Elle, the King of the Alders, the Fox and Sparrowhawk. This world was not originally their world. They made it theirs when they conquered it. When they opened the Ard Gaeth. With our help, because we had been used and abused and now they are trying to use and abuse you.\n\nCiri threw the skull.\n\n\"Rogues,\" she cried into the night. \"Murderers!\"\n\nThunder rumbled. Ihuarraquax snorted, loudly, warningly. She understood. With a single jump she was in the saddle and spurred Kelpie to a gallop.\n\nFollowing in their footsteps were pursuers.\n\nThis is not the first time this has happened, she thought, feeling the wind in her face as she galloped. Not the first time. This wild ride in the dark, in the middle of the night, chased by ghosts, specters and apparitions.\n\n\"Forward, Kelpie!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the glow of the lightning, Ciri could see through her watering eyes willows and alders along the trails. But these were not trees. They were hunched monsters coming at her from both sides, with their twisted and gnarled limbs, rotten laughter coming from a black mouth cavity. Kelpie neighed shrilly and ran so fast it looked like her hooves did not touch the ground.\n\nCiri laid flat on the back of her neck. Not only to reduce air resistance, but also in order to avoid the alder branches that wanted to knock her off or pull her from the saddle. The branches whipped and beat her, catching at her clothing and hair. The twisted trunks shook and the cavities snickered.\n\nKelpie neighed wildly. The unicorn responded. He was a bright white spot in the dark, showing her the way.\n\nRide, Star Eyes! Ride as fast as possible!\n\nIt became more and more difficult to dodge the alder's branches. Very soon they blocked the way.\n\nBehind them they heard shouting. It was the voices of their pursuers.\n\nIhuarraquax neighed. Ciri received his signal. Understood the importance. She adhered herself to Kelpie's neck. She did not need to encourage her, the frightened mare ran at a breakneck gallop. And other signal from the unicorn roughly broke into Ciri's mind. A councilor rather an order.\n\nJump, Star Eyes. You have to jump. To another place, another time.\n\nCiri did not understand, but struggled too. She made every effort to understand. She concentrated. Concentrated while whispers and blood pounded in her ears...\n\nLightning flashed. And then, suddenly it was dark, soft, black darkness, without a single beam of light." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Move the narrative forward in collaboration with the writer.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 6" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the glow of the lightning, Ciri could see through her watering eyes willows and alders along the trails. But these were not trees. They were hunched monsters coming at her from both sides, with their twisted and gnarled limbs, rotten laughter coming from a black mouth cavity. Kelpie neighed shrilly and ran so fast it looked like her hooves did not touch the ground.\n\nCiri laid flat on the back of her neck. Not only to reduce air resistance, but also in order to avoid the alder branches that wanted to knock her off or pull her from the saddle. The branches whipped and beat her, catching at her clothing and hair. The twisted trunks shook and the cavities snickered.\n\nKelpie neighed wildly. The unicorn responded. He was a bright white spot in the dark, showing her the way.\n\nRide, Star Eyes! Ride as fast as possible!\n\nIt became more and more difficult to dodge the alder's branches. Very soon they blocked the way.\n\nBehind them they heard shouting. It was the voices of their pursuers.\n\nIhuarraquax neighed. Ciri received his signal. Understood the importance. She adhered herself to Kelpie's neck. She did not need to encourage her, the frightened mare ran at a breakneck gallop. And other signal from the unicorn roughly broke into Ciri's mind. A councilor rather an order.\n\nJump, Star Eyes. You have to jump. To another place, another time.\n\nCiri did not understand, but struggled too. She made every effort to understand. She concentrated. Concentrated while whispers and blood pounded in her ears...\n\nLightning flashed. And then, suddenly it was dark, soft, black darkness, without a single beam of light." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her head ached and there was a buzzing in her ears.\n\nShe felt a cool breeze on her face. Drops of rain. The smell of pine. Kelpie snorted and puffed. She was wet and hot. Ciri could see Ihuarraquax. He stood shaking his head and his horn. Pawing at the ground with his hooves.\n\n\"Little horse?\"\n\nI'm here, Star Eyes.\n\nThe sky was full of stars. Full of constellations. The Dragon. Lady Winter. The Seven Goats. And low on the horizon– the Eye.\n\n\"It worked,\" she sighed. \"We have succeeded, Little horse. This is my world!\"\n\nHis tone was so clear that Ciri understood everything.\n\nNo, Star Eyes. We escaped from them. But this is still not the right place, or the right time. You still have along way to go.\n\n\"Don't leave me alone. '\n\nI will not leave. I owe you a debt. And I will repay it. Until the end.\n\nThe wind picked up and the clouds were swept to the west and gradually enveloped the constellations. The Dragon disappeared and after the Lady Winter and the Seven Goats. The brightest and longest glowing was the Eye. Ultimately, however, it also was covered. On the horizon lightning flashed briefly followed by the sound of thunder. The wind picked up dust. The storm was once again catching up.\n\nThe unicorn whinnied and sent another mental signal.\n\nWe must not waste time. Our only hope is a quick getaway. To the right place and the right time. Hurry, Star Eyes.\n\nI am the Lady of the Worlds. I am of the Elder Blood. The blood of Lara Dorren, daughter of Shiadhal." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Ihuarraquax neighed again, prompting her to hurry." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kelpie replied. Ciri pulled on her gloves.\n\n\"I'm ready. '\n\nThere was a roar in her ears. A flash. Then darkness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The majority of historians tend to award the process, conviction and execution of Joachim de Wett to the violent, cruel and tyrannical nature of Emperor Emhyr. Especially some works, whose authors have a fondness for literature about revenge and personal reckoning. The time has come to tell the truth, a truth that fora thorough researcher is obvious. The Duke de Wett commanded the Verden Operations Group to which the word'ineffective\" is extraordinarily delicate. Although having been arrayed against forces with at least twice their numbers, separated from the offensive in the north, he directed all of their activities to fighting the Verden guerrillas. The Verden Operations Group committed unheard of atrocities against civilians. The results were easy to foresee and inexcusable– in the winter the insurgent forces were calculated at about five hundred armed men, by the spring it was almost the entire country. King Ervyll, an imperial ally, was murdered and the uprising was led by his son, Prince Kistrin, a northerner sympathizer. Flanked by the pirate's ships of Skellige, in front from the Nordlings of Cidaris and from behind by the rebellion, de Wett engaged in chaotic battles, suffering defeat after defeat. Thus the offensive for the Center Army Group was delayed. Instead of Verden being bound to the west flank of the armies'Center\" to enable Menno Coehoorn's forces quick action, they in fact slowed down their campaign. So there was a delay and disruption of the offensive strategic plan. The Northerner immediately took advantage of the situation and went on the counterattack, undoing the siege around Mayena and Maribor, destroying the chances of a rapid reoccupation of these important strengths.\n\nThe inefficiency and stupidity of de Wett also had a psychological importance. The myth of the invincibility of Nilfgaard vanished. The army of the northerners began to receive hundreds of volunteers..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Restif de Montholon\n\nThe Northern Wars: Myths, Lies and Propaganda\n\nJarre, needless to say, was disappointed. The education he received at the temple and his own outgoing personality had led him to have faith inhuman goodness, kindness and selflessness. Now there was not much left of that faith.\n\nHe had slept for two night in the open on the remains of haystacks, and now it looked like he'd be spending his third night the same way. In each of the villages that he had sought shelter or a crust of bread, the gates had been closed uptight and the only responses he received were a deep silence of insults and threats. No matter how he explained who he was and where and what purpose he was travelling.\n\nHe was very, very disappointed by people.\n\nIt soon grew dark. The boy walked quickly and briskly along a path though some fields. He looked around fora haystack, resigned and dejected at the prospect of having to stay another night out in the open. In fact, March had been unusually warm, but at night it was very cold. And he was afraid.\n\nJarre looked to the sky, which, like every night for almost a week, you could see a golden and red comet that swept across the sky from west to east, dragging behind it a line of fire. He thought about what could cause such a herald, a phenomenon mentioned in many prophecies.\n\nHe took up the march. It was getting darker. The path led down a corridor of thick bushes that became dark terrifying shapes in the shadows of twilight. From below the bushes where darkness reigned blew the cold nasty smell of weeds in a state of putrefaction and something more. Something very bad.\n\nJarre stopped. He tried to convince himself that what was crawling on his back and shoulders was not fear, but cold. It had no effect." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Ahead a low bridge linked the banks of a canal, black and shiny as freshly poured tar, the banks were covered with reeds, willows and deformed ash." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In places the bridge had rotten planks, and large holes gaped in the bridge, the railing was broken and the rails were immersed in water. Around the bridge, willows grew densely. Although it was still far from real night, in the distant meadow behind the canal glowed the ragged bits of mist which clung to the grass, and among the willows darkness reigned. Through the darkness Jarre caught a blurry glimpse of the ruins of a building, probably a mill or a shack.\n\nI have to cross the bridge, thought the young man. Nothing can be done. Although I can feel that something lurks on the other side, I have go to the other side of the canal. I have to cross the canal, as did the legendary leader, or was he a hero? Who I read about in the worn manuscripts at the temple of Melitele. Cross the canal and then... How was it? The cards will be laid out? No, I will cast the dice! Behind me is the past, before me is spread my future...\n\nHe walked to the bridge and immediately saw that his premonition had not failed. Before he saw them, he heard them.\n\n\"Well,\" growled one of those who now stood in his way. Did I not say? A little patience, and we have already encountered somebody. '\n\n\"You were right, Okultich,\" replied the other. \"You could set yourself up as a clairvoyant. Well, lonesome wanderer, relinquish to us everything you have, will you be good or do we have to help?\"\n\n\"But I have nothing!\" screamed Jarre with all the force in his lungs, hoping that someone would hear and come to his aid. \"I am just a poor traveler! I do not have a penny on me! What can I give you? This stick? My clothing?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"That too,\" replied the other with a lisp, something in his voice caused Jarre to shudder." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "'So you know, poor traveler, we expected better loot. Or at least to have fun with a girl from\n\nthe village. But soon it will be night and now nobody will come. But where there is no fish, crab must suffice. Take him, guys! '\n\n\"I warn you,\" shouted Jarre. \"I have a knife!\"\n\nIndeed he did. He took it with him from the temple's kitchen before he fled and hid it in his bag. But he did not reach for it. He was paralyzed by the knowledge that it would bean absurd gesture and no one would help.\n\n\"I have a knife!\"\n\n\"Well, well!\" sneered the man with the lisp, approaching. \"He has a knife. Who would have thought!\"\n\nJarre could not flee. Fear had made his legs become two stakes nailed to the ground. Adrenaline had tied him by the neck like a noose.\n\n\"Hey!\" suddenly cried a third voice, youthful and somehow familiar. \"I think I know him! Yes, yes, I know him! Jarre? Do you recognize me? It's Melfi. Do you remember me, Jarre? '\n\n\"I... remember,\" Jarre struggled with all of his strength against a powerful, ugly and so far completely unknown to him feeling. Only when he felt pain in his side, from hitting the planks on the bride, did he realize the sensation. The feeling of the loss of consciousness.\n\n\"What a surprise!\" repeated Melfi. \"Such a coincidence to meet a native from Ellander. And a friend. Isn't it, Jarre? '\n\nJarre swallowed the mouthful of bacon, which the strange company had given to him, along with some roasted turnips. He did not answer, just nodded his head in the direction of all six surrounding the campfire." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What direction are you headed, Jarre?\"\n\n\"To Vizima.\"\n\n\"Ha! We are also headed to Vizima! What a coincidence! What do you say to that, Milton? You remember Milton, Jarre?\"\n\nJarre did not remember. He was not even sure if he had seen him before. Furthermore, Melfi, too, was exaggerating a bit calling him a friend. He was the son of the Cooper in Ellander. They had both attended the minor seminary in the temple, Melfi had regularly and severely beat Jarre and called him a bastard conceived of nettles, without a mother or father. It lasted about a year, after which the Cooper had taken his son from school and confirmed that the boy was only intended for barrels. That was Melfi– instead of devoting the sweat of his brow to learning the secrets of reading and writing, he devoted his sweat and blood in his father's workshop, sanding staves. And when he finished his studies, Jarre, with a recommendation of the temple found a job as the assistant town clerk, and the journeyman cooper bowed deeply to him and assured him of their friendship.\n\n\"Let's go to Vizima, \"said Melfi.\"To the army. All of us here, as one group. Those there are Milton and Ograbek, sons of serfs, but have been removed from their obligations, you know... '\n\n\"I know,\" Jarre looked at the two young, blond villagers who were as alike as brothers. \"They conscript one out often fiefs. And you Melfi?\"\n\n\"With me,\" sighed the cooper, \"mind you, this happened– the first time the army came to recruit my father paid them off. But the second time, we had to draw straws... well you know...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I know,\" Jarre nodded again." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The draw to enlist was decreed by the city council on Ellander, the decreed is dated January sixteenth. It was inevitable against the threat of Nilfgaard...\"\n\n\"Listen, Pike, to how he speaks,\" said on husky, broad-shouldered lad, who first shouted at Jarre on the bridge. \"Like some kind of sage.\"\n\n\"Wise ass. Fucking know it all,\" contributed another of the companions, whose round face was pasted with a stupid grin.\n\n\"Shut up, Klaproth,\" snarled Pike, the oldest boy in the group, who already boasted narrow droopy moustache. \"If he is a sage, the a man should listen to what he says. It doesn't hurt to learn something. Learning has never hurt anyone. Well, almost never. And almost anyone. '\n\n\"What is true is true,\" announced Melfi. \"Jarre, is in fact not stupid. He is a scholar and he learned to read and write in Ellander at the temple of Melitele and takes care of their library.\"\n\n\"I wonder,\" Pike looked at Jarre thought the smoke from the fire, his eyes glistened like an actual pike in the light of the torch at the bow of a fishing boat, \"what a scholar is doing on the road on the way to Vizima?\"\n\n\"Like you,\" said Jarre. \" I'm going to join the army.\"\n\n\"Why would some kind of fucking know it all go and join the army? Sanctuaries do not have to supply recruits And every fool knows how to rescue the service and claim to his scribe. What is it then, Sir Officer?\"\n\n\"I'm going to enlist as a volunteer, \"said Jarre.\"I want to enlist out of choice, not mandatory conscription. Partly for personal reasons, but mainly from a sense of patriotic duty. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The group burst into loud, thundering laughter.\n\n\"Look, guys,\" said Pike after he caught his breath, \"you can find a double temperament in some people seated in contradictions. Two natures. Here is a youngster; he would seem to be well educated and experienced and in addition surely not a born fool. You ought to know what happens in war– someone attacks someone else and kills them. And he, like you has joined by their own volition and person reasons and patriotic obligations but joins the losing side.\"\n\nNobody said anything. Neither did Jarre.\n\n\"Such feelings of patriotic obligations,\" said Pike, \"reliably reveal those who are weak in the head. But you also spoke about personal reasons. I'm dangerously curious, what are these personal motivations? '\n\n\"They are personal,\" said Jarre, \"and I'm not going to be talking about them. I'd rather you speak of your own reasons.\"\n\n\"Pay close attention to what I say,\" Pike said after a moment of silence. \"you are not talking to some kind of yokel. But do not worry scribe... I will forgive you this time. I'll even answer. Yes, I'm going into the army and also as a volunteer.\"\n\n\"How weak in the head should someone be to join with the losers?\" Jarre was surprised at his sudden audacity. \"And on the way, stripping travelers on bridges?\"\n\n\"Ha,\" Melfi burst outwith laughter, \"he still cannot forgive the trap by the stream. Jarre, it was just for fun! We were just joking, right, Pike?\"\n\n\"Sure,\" Pike yawned. \"It was just an innocent prank. Life is sad, like a cow being led to the slaughter. People will do anything for fun, don't you think, scribe? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I think. In principle.\"\n\n\"That's fine, \"Pike did not take his shining eyes off of him.\"Otherwise you would have had to make the trip to Vizima alone. '\n\nJarre was silent. Pike stretched.\n\n\"I've said what I wanted to say. Well, guys, the fun is at an end, it is time to hit the sack. We have until tomorrow evening to get to Vizima, we hike at daybreak. '\n\nThe night was very cold, despite his fatigue; Jarre could not sleep, curled up under his blanket, his knees almost touching his chin. When he finally feel asleep, he slept poorly and nightmares plagued him. Upon awakening he remembered only two.\n\nIn the first dream he saw the Witcher Geralt or Rivia who occasionally visited mother Nenneke. The witcher sat motionless under icicles hanging from an overhanging rock and was snowed in from a blizzard. In the second dream, Ciri was hunched over a horse's neck, galloping towards a low wall of alders.\n\nOh yes, and just before dawn he dreamed of Triss Merigold. After he last stay in the temple the young man dreamed of the enchantress often. Those dreams had consequences, for after waking up he was very ashamed.\n\nThis time, however, nothing of the sort happened. It was just too cold.\n\nIn the morning they did indeed march at dawn. Milton and Ograbek, the children of serfs, added a note of encouragement by singing a military song:\n\nGoon, brave warrior!\n\nYour armor rumbles like thunder.\n\nDon't run, girl, he wants to kiss you.\n\nJust give it to him, you won't regret it," }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After all, the handsome solider is going to fight for us!\n\nPike, Okultich, Klaproth and Melfi, walked together like lice on a beggar and told silly jokes and anecdotes, which in their opinion were outrageously funny:\n\n\"... And the Nilfgaardian asks'What's that smell?\" and the Elf says, \"Shit!\", Ha, ha, ha! '\n\n\"Hahahahahaha!\"\n\n\"Ha, ha, ha, ha! Do you know this one? An elf and a dwarf are going to Nilfgaard...\"\n\nAs time passed they met other travelers on the road, walking and driving, farm carts, merchants and military units. Some vehicles were loaded with food and Pike walked after them with his nose practically pressed to the ground, like a retriever, collecting anything that fell off the back– a carrot here, a potato there and sometimes even some onions. Some of the food they devoured on the spot and some they saved for later.\n\nJarre was waiting for any chance or reason to separate from them. He did not like Pike or Okultich. He did not like the looks that Pike and Okultich threw the wagons of the merchants who passed or the carts of the farmers with girls and women sitting in the carts. He did not like the mocking tone Pike put on when he spoke of his purpose of volunteering for the military at a time when it was clear and inevitable they would be defeated.\n\nThe air smelled of freshly ploughed earth. And smoke. Ina valley between the regular checkerboard fields they saw fruit trees and between them the crowns of a thatched roofs. They heard dogs barking, roosters crowing and cattle lowing.\n\n\"Nice village,\" Pike said. \"Not to big but neat and rich at first sight.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Here in the valley,\" Okultich hurried to explain, \"halflings have settled. They organize everything neatly. They are diligent stewards.\"\n\n\"Non-humans are cursed,\" snarled Klaproth. \"Fucking kobolds. They are thriving here while everyone else is in poverty. Not even the war affects them.\"\n\n\"For now,\" Pike's lip curled back in an ugly grimace.\"Remember this settlement, boys. Remember it well. If we ever wanted to take a look there, I would not like to wander. '\n\nJarre turned his head. He pretended not to hear. He watched the road in front of them.\n\nThey continued their journey. Ograbek and Milton started singing anew song. Not a military song, but something much grimmer. It could have been, after Pike's previous references, taken as an ominous sign.\n\nPeople listen and learn the cruelty of death.\n\nOld, young or brave,\n\nNo one escapes the Reaper.\n\nNo mercy from his scythe.\n\n\"He,\" Okultich said quietly, \"must have some money. I'll be damned if he does not have silver. '\n\nThe subject for whom Okultich had made the bet was a merchant who was travelling along the road, walking with a two wheeled wagon being pulled by a donkey.\n\n\"Money calls money,\" Pike lisped, \"and the little donkey would also be worth something. Lead the way, boys.\"\n\n\"Melfi,\" Jarre pulled on the cooper's sleeve,\"open your eyes! Do you not see what is brewing here? '\n\n\"These are just jokes, Jarre,\" Melfi pulled away. \"They are only joking...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Closeup they could see that the cart was also a stall that he could setup in a few moments to spread his wears ready for sale. The cart was covered with a tarpaulin which doubled as a sign that praised the shopkeepers range– protective amulets, talismans and scapulars, roots and medicinal drugs, magic potions and all sorts of spices, elixirs and magical poultices, precious metal detectors as well as infallible bait for fish, ducks and maidens.\n\nThe merchant, a thin elderly man, looked around and saw them, swore and urged his donkey forward. But the donkey like any ass did not go faster.\n\n\"He's wearing a pretty decent outfit, \"Okultich quietly appreciated.\"And I'm sure we'll find things in the cart. '\n\n\"Well, boys, let's get to it, \"Pike commanded,\"while there are few witnesses on the road. '\n\nJarre could not believe his courage, when he ran a few quicksteps ahead of the gang, turned and stood between them and the merchant.\n\n\"No!\" he uttered with difficulty, as if his throat was being squeezed. \"I won't let you... '\n\nPike carelessly parted his long cloak and pointed at a knife on his belt, which was without a doubt sharp as a razor.\n\n\"Move aside, pen-pusher!\" Pike lisped with hatred. \"If you want to save your throat. I thought you were looking for adventures with our company, but no, I see your temple has made you a prude, you stink of incense. Get out of the way now, because otherwise...\"\n\n\"What is happening here? Huh?\"\n\nFrom behind the bushes at the side of the road, emerged two eccentric looking figures. Both men wore waxed moustaches curled upwards that looked like a colorful Danish pastry, they wore quilted jackets decorated with ribbons and big, soft, velvet berets with tufts of feathers. In addition they wore wide belts with hanging daggers and both men wore on their backs two-handed swords, about a meter in length, with long hilts." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The landsknecht emerged from the bushes after having apparently fulfilled their necessary requirements. Although they behaved with ostentatious carelessness and did not reach towards their swords, Pike and Okultich immediately backed away and went limp and Klaproth looked like a deflated bladder.\n\n\"We... we're not... \"stammered Pike.\"Nothing wrong with... '\n\n\"Just a joke,\" whined Melfi.\n\n\"No one was hurt,\" the old merchant said unexpectedly. \"So no big deal.\"\n\n\"We,\" Jarre said quickly, \"are on our way to Vizima. We have to report for conscription. By chance maybe that is the way you are travelling, gentlemen soldiers?\"\n\n\"By chance we are,\" chuckled the landsknecht, who immediately understood what was going on. \"We are also going to Vizima. Whoever is interested can go with us. We will be safer together.\"\n\n\"In any case,\" the other landsknecht measured Pike and his henchmen with penetrating eyes. \"I would like to add that we meta sheriff's patrol a short distance away. His men are angry they have to trudge through the country, instead of sitting somewhere warm. They are keen to hang any robbers they find on the roads. '\n\n\"Very well,\" Pike recovered and showed his teeth in a fake smile. \"Very well, the law punishes rogues and keeps order. Then let us be on our way to Vizima, to the army, because patriotic duty calls.\"\n\nThe landsknecht looked at him fora longtime and rather contemptuously, then shrugged his shoulders, adjusted the sword on his back and walked by. His companion, Jarre and the merchant and his wagon and donkey followed him, and a short distance behind, Pike's mob." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I thank you, gentlemen soldiers,\" said the merchant driving his donkey. \"And I thank you, your sir.\"\n\n\"You're welcome, \"the landsknecht waved his hand.\"It happens. '\n\n\"A wide range of people are being recruited for the military,\"said the second fellow looking back over his shoulder. \"They arrive at a village or a town and order one out of every ten men. Often the first thing they do is take advantage of the opportunity to get rid of the crooks, which is worse, because then the road become full of robbers. Oh, like those back there. However, once they reach the training center a soldier will club some discipline into them. Everyone learns to listen when they are forced to rundown a corridor of sticks a few times.\"\n\n\"I,\" Jarre was quick to clarify, \"wish to enlist as a volunteer, not forced.\"\n\n\"I noticed right away,\" the landsknecht looked at him, \"you're a different breed from those rascals. So why are you with them? '\n\n\"Chance brought us together.\"\n\n\"I have seen many such pairings,\" said the experienced soldier seriously, \"which together by chance led them to the gallows. Take a lesson from that, my boy.\"\n\n\"I will.\"\n\nBefore the clouds obscured by sun it stood at its zenith, they reached the highway. There awaiting them was a large group of travelers who had arrived before them, Jarre and his companions had to stop because the road was completely blocked by military troops.\n\n\"They're heading south, \"said one of the landsknechts.\"To the front. To Maribor and Mayena. '\n\n\"Look at their banners,\" nodded the other.\n\n\"Redania,\" said Jarre. \"Silver eagle on purple.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Smart boy,\" said the landsknecht patting him on the shoulder. \"Yes, it is Redanian soldiers that have been sent to help by Queen Hedwig. Finally the kingdoms are united again– Temeria, Redania, Aedirn and Kaedwen, now we are allies fora common cause.\"\n\n\"It's about time, ' Pike said from behind them with obvious sarcasm. The landsknecht looked, but said nothing.\n\n\"Let's sit down, \"Melfi said.\"Get some rest. The crowd of troops is not near the end, it will take awhile before the path is clear. '\n\n\"We can sit on that hill,\" the merchant pointed. \"We will have a better view.\"\n\nThe Redanian light cavalry passed rapidly past them, raising dust. Behind them marched the crossbowmen. Behind them came a column of heavy cavalry.\n\n\"Those,\" Melfi pointed to an armored knight, \"march under another banner. A black standard, dotted with white speckles.\"\n\n\"From what sunken hole did you climb?\" the landsknecht shook his head. \"You do not know the banner of your own king? These are the silver lilies, you blockhead...\"\n\n\"Black field covered with silver lilies,\" Jarre said, who wanted to show that he definitely climbed from no hole, and hurriedly explained– \"The old coat of arms of the Kingdom of Temeria was a striding lion. Only the crown princes\" used a different standard to put on their shields, the three fleur delis. The heraldic symbolisms of the lilies area sign of the crown prince, heir to the crown and sceptre... '\n\n\"Fuckin know it all,\" muttered Klaproth.\n\n\"Shut your mug, pig heads,\" warned the landsknecht. \"And you, my boy, keep going. This interests me.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"When prince Goidemar, son of old King Gardik went to fight Falka's evil insurgents, the army fought under this under the coat of arms of the lilies, making a decisive advantage. And when Goidemar inherited the throne from his father, in memory of those victories and the miraculous salvation of his wife and children from enemy hands, he instituted the coat of arms of three lilies on a black filed for his kingdom. And then King Cedric changed the official flag by special decree, so now it is afield strewn with silver lilies. And this is Temeria's crest today. Which you can visually verify without difficulty, since on the road move Temerian spearmen.\"\n\n\"You explained that very well, young sir,\" praised the merchant.\n\n\"Not I,\" said Jarre, 'but Jan of Attre, a scholar of heraldry.\n\n\"And obviously you areas well versed.\"\n\n\"Fucking great then,\" said Pike in a low voice, \"that he is being recruited by the banner of the silver lilies, for the king of Temeria.\"\n\nSuddenly they heard singing. The deep, threatening, like an approaching thunderstorm. Following in the tracks left by the Temerians, came another army in close formation. A grey, almost colorless cavalry, over which waved no flags or banners. At the front of the column carried on a pole was a horizontal staff decorated with horses' tails from which three human skulls hung.\n\n\"The Free Company,\" the landsknecht pointed at the riders. \"Condottiere. An army of mercenaries.\"\n\n\"Even the untrained eye can see that they are seasoned,\" Melfi sighed. \"I would serve with them. They ride information, as if on parade...\"\n\n\"The Free Company,\" repeated the landsknecht. \"Behold, beardless yokels, those are true soldiers. The same condottieri was present at the battle of Mayena-Adam Pangratt, Lorenzo Molla, Frontino and Julia Abatemarco where they decided to attack and broke the siege and liberated them from Nilfgaard's strength. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"In combat they are unyielding as solid rock,\" added the other. \"War is a craft for them, and they provide their service for money, as you can easily deduce by their songs.\"\n\nThe company approached at a walk, their singing thundering above their heads, but with a strangely discordant note.\n\nNo sceptre nor throne do we serve,\n\nNo alliances with kings,\n\nWe serve the coin, like the golden sun,\n\nAt its order, we swiftly obey!\n\nWe do not take your oaths,\n\nWe bow to no flag nor kiss hands,\n\nWe serve the coin, which shines like the sun\n\nOur oath we give eternal.\n\n\"I would like to serve with them,\" Melfi breathed again. \"To fight at their side. Capturing fortune and fame.\"\n\n\"Do my eyes deceive me?\" Okultich furrowed his brow. \"Who rides at the head of the crowd? A female? Are these mercenaries fighting under the command of women?\"\n\n\"She is not just any woman,\" growled the landsknecht. \"It is Julia Abatemarco who they call Pretty Kitty. All of her enemies tremble before her. This company comprises barely a thousand men, but before the gates of Mayena they cut down three thousand Black ones and elves.\"\n\n\"I heard,\" Pike said in a humble, yet disgustingly vitriolic tone, \"that famous victory was for nothing, that the gold coins used for their pay was wasted unnecessarily. Nilfgaard recovered and again inflicted on our people a good lesson. They besieged Mayena again. Maybe even took it. Maybe they are stretching their strength to the north. Maybe they Nilfgaard bought these well-paid mercenaries. Maybe...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Maybe,\" interrupted the landsknecht coldly, \"you want me to smash your lying mouth, bastard! And yet you're lucky, because barking against one's own army is punishable by hanging. So hold your tongue before I run out of patience!\"\n\n\"Oooh!\" the burly Klaproth said, opening his mouth widely. \"Oh, look at you! Dwarfs are more fun!\"\n\nOn the road, under the deafening din of drums, the blaring of bagpipes and the shrill whistle of fifes, marched a formation of infantry armed with halberds, battle-axes and spiked flails. Clad in pointed helmets, leather and chain shirts were soldiers far smaller than usual.\n\n\"Dwarves of the mountains,\" said the landsknecht. \"Some of the regiments of the Mahakam Volunteer Army.\"\n\n\"I thought,\" said Okultich, \"the dwarves fought against us. That these filthy tadpoles betrayed us to the Black ones...\"\n\n\"You thought?\" the landsknecht looked at him with pity. \"I wonder what with? If you swallowed a cockroach in you soup, dolt, you would have more intellect in your gut than in your head. Those who march there are one of the dwarven regiments of infantry, sent to aid us by Brouver Hoog, Governor of Mahakam. They have already entered combat, suffering heavy casualties during the battle of Mayena they drove back the Black ones.\"\n\n\"Dwarves are brave people,\" confirmed Melfi. 'I met one once, at an inn in Ellander during the celebration of Saovine and he gave me such a slap in the ear that I had a ringing in them until the feast of Yule." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"The regiment of dwarves is the last column,\" the landsknecht shaded his eyes with his hand." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"End of the parade. The road will be free soon. Let's get moving it is almost noon. '\n\n\"So many people are moving arms to the south,\" nodded the merchant. 'There will be a great war, a great misfortune. People will perish by fire and sword by the thousands. Did you, gentlemen, seethe comet in the firmament night after night, dragging a red tail behind it? When a comet has a pale tail, it announces disease and epidemics, plague, cholera and\n\nleprosy, a comet with a bluish tail portents disaster, floods, cloudbursts, or prolonged rain. A red color indicates that t is a comet of fire and blood andiron that are born of fire. Severe disasters will fall on people, death and bloodshed. What is said in the old prophecy– corpses will cover the earth, hear the howl of the wolves and those who miraculously survive, will cry with happiness when they find traces of another living person... Woe to us! '\n\n\"Why us?\" the landsknecht interrupted coldly. \"The comet is flying high, certainly it can be seen from Nilfgaard. And the Ina valley, where Menno Coehoorn camps. If it can be seen by the Black ones, why not believe that it portends disaster and misfortune for them and not us.\"\n\n\"Right!\" agreed the second landsknecht. \"Woe to the Black ones!\"\n\n\"You, gentlemen, are exceedingly clever.\"\n\n\"Absolutely.\"\n\nThey left the woods and went into meadows and pastures surrounding Vizima. Here grazed herds of horses used for riding and towing. Now in March, the grass in the meadow was scarce, but in the meadow stood wagons filled with hay." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I cannot believe my eyes,\" Okultich licked his lips." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Herds of horses and no one watching them! Just choose one and...\"\n\n\"Shut up,\" growled Pike from between his teeth, smiling at the mercenaries, \"This one, gentlemen, is dying to serve in the cavalry. He enjoys looking at horses.\"\n\n\"Serve in the cavalry?\" the landsknecht spluttered. \"Have no illusions of riding on horseback. Such as you would be useless unless you were cleaning the stables or moving manure with a bucket and wheelbarrow!\"\n\nThey continued on and soon arrived at the dock that ran along the ponds and channels. And suddenly above the tops of the alder spotted the red-tiled towers of Vizima castle which stood by the river.\n\n\"We're almost there, \"said the merchant.\"Can you smell it? '\n\n\"Pu-ugh!\" Melfi cried. \"What a stink! What is it?\"\n\n\"Probably the soldiers who have died waiting for the king to pay them,\" muttered Pike form behind them, but so the landsknechts could not hear.\n\n\"A wonder your snout doesn't break, huh? \"laughed one of them/\"We are approaching the camp, where during the winter thousands of troops camped. An army has to eat and shit too. So it was established by nature and nothing that can be remedied! And all that shit has to go somewhere. Like in those pits over there, where they go and cover it with soil. In winter, it remains frozen and you can withstand it a bit, but come spring... Pah! '\n\n\"Do you hear that buzz?\" the second landsknecht sniffed. \"There are clouds of flies and in the spring it will bean unheard of thing. Cover your face as best you can, because these flies go rampaging through the mouth and eyes. Let's pickup the pace, the faster the better. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They left the trenches behind, but failed to lose the smell. On the contrary, Jarre would have given his head, the closer to the city, the worse the smell got. And much more diverse. The smell surrounded the city stank of military camps and tents. It smelled of hospitals. I stank of crowded and busy boroughs, squares and streets, the walls above the city stank. Luckily the nostrils soon grew accustomed to it and could not tell the difference between either dung or carrion or whether it was cat urine or the next inn.\n\nFlies where everywhere. Buzzing annoyingly like experienced soldiers, crawling into mouths, noses, eyes and ears. The insects could not be driven off and it was easier to crush them on their faces.\n\nAs they left the darkness of the city gate, Jarre's eye fell upon a huge poster of a painted knight, who pointed his finger at him. The inscription beneath the knight in capital letters read– WHAT ABOUT YOU? HAVE YOU ENLISTED?\n\n\"Yes,\" muttered the landsknecht. \"Unfortunately.\"\n\nThere were many similar signs, hung on almost every available wall. Most were of the knight pointing his finger, often also with apathetic looking mother with billowing grey hair, standing in the background of burning villages and babies impaled on Nilfgaardian stakes. Another popular motif was pictures of elves with bloody knives in their teeth dripping blood.\n\nJarre turned around and suddenly realized they were alone– the landsknecht, the merchant, and himself. Pike, Okultich, Klaproth, Melfi and the rural recruits were gone without a trace.\n\n\"Well, well,\" the landsknecht confirmed his conjectures looking around inquisitively. \"As I expected, your comrades took off at the first opportunity, rascals, gave us the slip at the first corner. But you know what I'll tell you, boy? Be glad that your paths diverged. And wish that you had never met. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm sorry for Melfi, \"Jarre murmured.\"He is not a bad person. '\n\n\"Each person chooses his own destiny. Come with us. We will show you were to recruit.\"\n\nThey entered a square with a stone platform in the center, on it stood a pillory.\n\nAround the pillory townspeople and soldiers thronged. The condemned had mud and shit flung at their faces, they were spitting, spluttering, screaming and crying. The crowd laughed.\n\n\"Wow!\" cried the landsknecht. \"Look who is locked in the stocks! It's Fuson! I wonder why he is in there? '\n\n\"For farming,\" a fat burgher in wolf fur and a felt hat hastened to explain. '\n\n\"For what?\"\n\n\"For farming,\" the fat man repeated with emphasis. \"For planting.\"\n\n\"Ha! So you spoke clearly, forgive me,\" the landsknecht laughed. \"That's nonsense, I have known Fuson for many years. He is a shoemaker, the son of a shoemaker and grandson of a shoemaker. In his life it has never occurred to him to plough or sow or reap. Where did you come to such a towering pile of shit, sir? '\n\n\"The magistrate read the judgment,\" the man said indignantly. \"It is said the criminal will stay in the pillory until tomorrow morning for on the command of Nilfgaard he has sown some strange, exotic herb. Probably poisonous... Wait, I remember... Oh! Defetyzm!\"\n\n\"Yes, yes!\" cried the merchant. \"I heard talk of it. The Nilfgaardian spies and the elves are spreading epidemics, poisoning wells, springs and streams with various poisons such as hemlock, typhoid and defetyzm.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"That's right, \"said the fat man in the felt cap.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yesterday in the square they hanged two elves. Surely for such poisonings. '\n\n\"In this street,\" the landsknecht pointed, \"is an inn, with a draft board in the office. Good luck kid, and perhaps the gods with let us meet in better times. Farewell, and you, Mister merchant.\"\n\nThe merchant cleared his throat.\n\n\"Kind gentlemen,\" said the merchant rummaging through little chests and trunks on his cart, \"for your help... As a sign of gratitude...\"\n\n\"Do not trouble yourself, good man,\" the landsknecht said with a smile. \"Let's not speak of it. '\n\n\"How about a magic ointment against arrows?\" the old man rummaged through a trunk. 'Or an effective and versatile tool for the treatment of asthma, gout, paralysis and to remove\n\ndandruff? Ora balm for bee stings or if you have been bitten by a rabid dog, vipers or a vampire? Ora talisman against the evil eye? '\n\n\"And you do not have anything,\" the second landsknecht said seriously, \"for the effects of bad food?\"\n\n\"I have!\" cried the merchant. \"Here it is, the most effective antidote developed from magical roots, spices and herbs. Three drops will suffice after each meal. Please take it, noble lords.\"\n\n\"Thank you. Farewell, sir. You too, boy.\"\n\n\"Honest and decent gentlemen,\" said the merchant, when both the landsknecht disappeared into the crowd. \"It's not everyday you find people like that. Nor like you, young sir! What can I give you then? An amulet against lightning? A bezoar? Turtle pebbles effective against spells of charming? Aha! I even have a hanged man's tooth and apiece of devil shit...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jarre tore his gaze away from a group of people fiercely washing paint from the wall of a house which read– DOWN WITH THE FUCKING WAR!\n\n\"No need,\" he said. \"It is time for me...\"\n\n\"Ha!\" the merchant shouted and pulled out a brass medallion in the shape of a heart. \"This is the right thing fora young man. It is truly unique, I have only one such amulet. It is a magic charm. It makes the one who carries it never forget his love, even if time and many miles separate them. Look, inside is apiece of papyrus, with magical red ink that I have, you just write the name of the loved one and she will never forget or betray you. What do you think?\"\n\n\"Hmmm...\" blushed Jarre. \"I don't know... '\n\n\"What name,\" the merchant dipped a quill into his magic ink, \"should I write?\"\n\n\"Ciri. I mean Cirilla.\"\n\n\"Done. Here you go.\"\n\n\"Jarre! Bloody hell! What are you doing here?\"\n\nJarre turned impulsively. I'd hoped, he thought, that I would leave my past behind, that everything would be all new and I seem to constantly bump into old acquaintances.\n\n\"Dennis Cranmer!\"\n\nA dwarf dressed in a heavy fur coat, steel armor, arm guards and a fox-skin hat with a tail cast a penetrating look at the boy, then the merchant, then again at the boy.\n\n\"What are you doing here Jarre?\" he asked sternly, his brows, beard and moustache bristling.\n\nFora moment the boy thought to lie and get the good-hearted merchant to confirm it. He immediately gave up this idea. Dennis Cranmer, who had once served in the guard in the Principality of Ellander, enjoyed the reputation of being a dwarf who was difficult to deceive. And he knew it was not worth the try." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm going to enlist in the army. '\n\nHe knew what the next question would be.\n\n\"Do you have permission from Nenneke?\"\n\nHe did not respond.\n\n\"You ran away,\" Dennis Cranmer stroked his beard. \"You fled from the temple. And Nenneke and the priestesses are probably pulling out their hair...\"\n\n\"I left a letter,\" grumbled Jarre. \"Mister Cranmer, I could not... I had to... One cannot sit idly by while the enemy is on his border... in a time of threat to one's homeland... and... Ciri... Mother Nenneke banned me. She sent three quarters of the sanctuaries girls to the army, but she did not want me to go. But I had to... '\n\n\"So you ran away,\" the dwarf wrinkled his brow. \"By a thousand sacramental demons! I should tie you to a stick and send you back to Ellander. I should order you locked up in a cave until the priestesses come and pick you up! I should...\"\n\nHe snorted angrily.\n\n\"When was the last time you ate something, Jarre? How long since your throat had a hot meal?\"\n\n\"Hot meal? Three... No, four days ago.\"\n\n\"Come with me.\"\n\n---\n\n\"Eat slower, son,\" Zoltan Chivay, one of Dennis Cranmer comrades rebuked him. \"Not so fast, it's not healthy to swallow without chewing properly. Where are you going in a hurry? Believe me; no one is going to take the pot away. '\n\nJarre was not so sure. In the main hall of the Hairy Bear inn a duel of fisticuffs was being held. Two stubby dwarves as wide as stoves were banging fist together so loud that the noise rang over the top of the clamor and cheers from the companions of the regiment. The plank floor creaked, dishes fell from shelves and blood from broken noses sprayed the surrounding area like rain. Jarre was afraid that one of the opponents would soon rollover the table and throw the wooden platter with pork, cooked peas and earthenware pints to the floor. He swallowed a chunk of meat without swallowing, because the last few days had taught him that anything could befall you." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I don't understand, Dennis, \"said another dwarf at the table called Sheldon Skaggs, without paying attention to the fact that one of the fighters after a hard blow almost rolled over his back.\"If the boy is a priest, how is he going to enlist? The blood of priests should not be spilled. '\n\n\"He was schooled at the temple, he's not a priest. '\n\n\"Damn, I can never understand those human superstitions. But it is not proper to mock other people beliefs... However, since this young man was only brought up in the temple, there is nothing against the shedding his blood. Especially Nilfgaard's. What do you say, boy? '\n\n\"Let him to eat in peace, Sheldon.\"\n\n\"I will answer...\" Jarre took a bite of pork with a spoonful of peas. \"I think the spilling of blood in a righteous war is permissible and justified. That's why I want to enlist. The motherland is calling. '\n\n\"You can see for yourself,\" Sheldon Skaggs looked at his companions, \"how much truth there is in the assertion that humans area race closely akin to our own and that we derive from the same root, both them and us. The best proof is sitting in front of us and eating peas. In other words, the same stupid enthusiasm we see in young dwarves.\"\n\n\"Especially after Mayena,\" said Zoltan Chivay calmly. \"After winning a battle voluntary enlistment always rises. The momentum will cease as soon as the news that Menno Coehoorn is heading up the Ina River, leaving land and going by water.\"\n\n\"I only wish that the rush was the other way,\" muttered Cranmer. \"I do not have confidence in the volunteers. It is interesting that every second deserter is a volunteer.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"How can you...\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jarre almost choked. \"How can you suggest something like that, sir... I volunteer from patriotic motives... For the motherland...\"\n\nOne of the dwarves had fallen during the fistfight, the boy thought the he had shaken the foundations of the building, because the dust from the cracks in the floor planks rose as high as a raised arm. However, this time he stayed down, rather than jumping backup and\n\npouncing on his opponent, he lay on the floor, feebly moving his limbs so he looked more like a giant beetle on his back.\n\nDennis Cranmer stood up.\n\n\"The issue is resolved,\" he announced in a thundering voice, looking around the taproom. \"The post of company commander, vacant after the heroic death of Elkana Foster, killed in the field of honor during the battle of Mayena, will be occupied by... What is your name, son, I have forgotten?\"\n\n\"Blasco Grant!\" the winner of the match spat a tooth on the floor.\n\n\"Blasco Grant is the new commander. Does anyone have any objection to his promotion? There are none? All right. Innkeeper! Beer!\"\n\n\"What were we talking about?\"\n\n\"Of a just war,\" Zoltan Chivay began to count on his fingers. \"Of the volunteers. Of the deserters...\"\n\n\"Oh, that!\" Dennis interrupted him. \"I knew I wanted to explain something concerning volunteers, deserters and traitors. I remember the late volunteer army for the Marshal of Cintra, Vissegerd. The motherfuckers, it turns out, have not even changed their banner. I know this from the condottieri of the Free Company from Julia'Pretty Kitty\". At Mayena they encountered the Cintrans. Those sons of bitches were fighting alongside Nilfgaard under the banner of the golden lion...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Called on by their motherland,\" Skaggs said gloomily. \"And the future Empress Cirilla.\"\n\n\"Shh,\" said Dennis.\n\n\"Right,\" said the fourth dwarf Yarpen Zigrin who had been silent up until now. \"Hush! And quieter than silence. But not because of fear of spies, but because you cannot talk about things you have no fucking idea about.\"\n\n\"And you, Zigrin,\" Skaggs puffed out his beard. \"You know something about this?\"\n\n\"Aye, I know. I tell you one thing– nobody, not even Emhyr var Emreis, nor those treacherous sorcerers from Thanedd, not even the devil himself could force that girl to do anything. They did not manage to break her. I know it. Because I know her. It's a hoax this whole marriage to Emhyr. A deception that has led many fools astray... Also I'll tell you, that girl's destiny is quite different. '\n\n\"You talk,\" muttered Skaggs, \"as if you really know her, Zigrin.\"\n\n\"Leave him!\" Zoltan suddenly scolded. \"Her fate is different. I think so too. I have my reasons for it.\"\n\n\"Bah!\" Sheldon Skaggs replied, shaking his hands. \"Why spend saliva in vain. Cirilla, Emhyr, destiny... They are distant issues. Our concern is Menno Coehoorn the Field Marshal of the Center Army Group.\"\n\n\"Well,\" sighed Zoltan Chivay. \"It seems tome that we are not going to escape a battle. Perhaps the biggest in known history.\"\n\n\"Much will be decided,\" muttered Dennis Cranmer. \"A lot will end.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Everything...\" Jarre belched and covered his mouth with his hands, embarrassed. \"Everything ends.\"\n\nThe dwarves watched him fora moment, silent.\n\n\"I don't think I fully understand you, \"Zoltan finally said.\"Could you explain what you mean? '\n\n\"At the royal council in Ellander I heard...\" stammered Jarre. \"There was talk about a great victory in this war; it was so important that... That this war put an end to all wars.\"\n\nSheldon Skaggs snorted, spitting beer onto his beer. Zoltan Chivay roared with laughter.\n\n\"What do you think, gentlemen?\"\n\nNow it was Dennis Cranmer's turn to burst out laughing. Yarpen Zigrin retained his seriousness. He studied the young man attentively and seemed concerned.\n\n\"Son,\" he said very seriously. \"Look. There, sitting at the counter is Evangelina Parr. She is admittedly, substantial. Indeed, even great. But despite her actions, not one whore can put an end to all whores.\"\n\nWhen they left the inn, Dennis Cranmer took the young man aside.\n\n\"I have to praise you, Jarre,\" he said. \"Do you know why?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Do not pretend. Before me, you do not. It is worthy of praise that you did not blink an eye when they mentioned Ciri. Do not look as if you don't know what I mean. I know a few things that were happening at Nenneke's temple. I also heard the name that you had entered in the heart medallion.\"\n\nThe dwarf pretended not to notice the blush that suffused the boy's face.\n\n\"Keep it up, Jarre. And not only about Ciri... What are you looking at?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On the wall of a granary visible at the entrance to an alley stood a blurred painting, written in lime, which read– MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR.\n\nJust below, with significantly smaller letters, someone had scrawled the following message– MAKE SHIT EVERY MORNING.\n\n\"Look the other way, stupid,\" Dennis Cranmer barked. \"Just seeing such inscriptions can get you in trouble. Do not say no out of place, or they tie you to a post and whip you bloody. Here the trials are very fast! Incredibly fast!\"\n\n\"I saw,\" Jarre whispered, \"a shoemaker in the pillory. He allegedly sowed defetyzm.\"\n\n\"The sowing,\" the dwarf said seriously, pulling the boy's sleeve,\"probably consisted of the fact that the father was driving his son to the military, and he cried and shouted about patriotism. For the more serious sowing there is a different punishment. Come on, I'll show you.\"\n\nThey entered a small square. Jarre had to pullback and cover his nose and mouth with his sleeve. On a huge gallows hung several bodies. Some, from their appearance and smell, had been hanging therefor sometime.\n\n\"That one,\" said Dennis, while swatting away flies, \"wrote silly phrases on the walls. He said that war is a thing of lords and peasant recruits and that Nilfgaard were not their enemies. That one was drunk and told the following anecdote– \"What is a spear? The weapon nobles stick a poor man at each end.\" And there, at the end, you seethe old woman? She was the mistress of a military brothel, and had decorated a sign with this– \"Fuck today, warrior! Because tomorrow you may not be able to.\"\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And just for that...\"\n\n\"One of the girls, it was revealed later, also had gonorrhea. And that came within the paragraph of conspiracy and sabotage of combat capabilities.\"\n\n\"I understand, Mister Cranmer,\" Jarre took a stance that he considered military. \"But do not worry about me; I am not a defeatist...\"\n\n\"You do not understand shit and do not interrupt me, I have not finished. The last one that was hanged, who stinks already, their only crime was the during a talk with an undercover informer, responded saying– \"You are correct my friend, it is not.\" Now you can tell me you understand.\"\n\n\"I understand,\" the boy looked around cautiously. \"I'll be careful. But... Mister Cranmer... What is really happening? '\n\nThe dwarf also glanced around carefully.\n\n\"The truth,\" he replied in a whisper, \"is that the strength of Field Marshal Menno Coehoorn's Center Army Group is a hundred thousand men. If there was no rebellion in\n\nVerden, he would be here. The truth is that neither of our combined armies have enough power to stop Coehoorn. At least not before the strategic line of the Pontar. '\n\n\"The river is north of us,\" whispered Jarre.\n\n\"Well, you wanted to hear the truth. But remember to keep a lock on your mouth.\"\n\n\"I'll be careful. And once I enlist? I have to be careful around the soldiers? In case there is a spy among them? '\n\n\"In a combat regiment? Near the front line? On no! Spies are too busy far from the front, because they are afraid of ending up there themselves. Also, if every soldier who protested, complained or cursed was hanged, there would be no one to fight this war. But your mouth, Jarre, as in the case of Ciri, keep it closed. Now come with me, I will escort you to the Commission office.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Mister Cranmer,\" Jarre looked with hope at the dwarf. \"Will you speak for me there?\"\n\n\"You foolish, dandy! This is the Army! If I recommend you and protect you, it is like having'milksop\" embroidered on your back in gold thread. No one will leave you alone in your unit, lad.\"\n\n\"What about you...\" Jarre asked. \"Does your unit...\"\n\n\"Do not even think about it.\"\n\n\"Because there is only room for dwarves, it that it?\" said the boy bitterly. \"Not for me?\"\n\n\"Right.\"\n\nNot for you, thought Dennis Cranmer. Not for you, Jarre. I'm too obliged to Mother Nenneke. Therefore I would like you to return from the war. The Mahakam Volunteer Army is composed of dwarves, volunteers from inferior races and foreigners, they will always be sent into the worst places, the most dangerous sections of the battle. There is no return. To the places when humans would not be sent.\n\n\"So what can be arranged,\" Jarre frowned, \"to get into a good unit?\"\n\n\"And that, according to you is special, for you to seek?\"\n\nJarre turned, hearing singing, coming on like a wave in the surf, rising as rapidly as an approaching thunderstorm. The singing was loud and strong and hard as steel. He had heard such singing before.\n\nFrom the street leading away from the caste, in three columns, marched the condottieri regiment. At their head with the standard covered with horses and skulls, was a man with an aquiline nose and hair in a braid that fell onto his armor.\n\n\"Adam'Adieu\" Pangratt,\" murmured Dennis Cranmer." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The condottieri's singing thundered down the street.\n\nIn counterpoint was the ringing of horseshoes on pavement, which filled the street and soared up to the tops of the houses and far up into the blue sky over the city.\n\nWe do not mourn wives or lovers\n\nWhen bleeding on the earth\n\nBecause the coin, shines like the sun\n\nFor this we fight...\n\n\"Which unit?\" Jarre said, unable to look away from the cavalry. \"Hopefully one like this! In one that would be worthwhile...\"\n\n\"Each one has its own anthem,\" the dwarf broke the silence. 'But ever soldier must pour out his own blood. Either someone will cry for him or not. In war, son, those who sing and march are equal, the formations are equal. And then, in battle, everyone must face their own destiny. Whether in the Free Company with'Adieu\" Pangratt or in the infantry or in the camps... In shiny armor with a proud plume or in a lousy fur coat. With a lush stallion or with a battered shield... each must face his destiny. Well, here we are at the Commission\n\noffice, can you seethe sign above the entrance? Make your way over there if you are still thinking of being a soldier. Good luck, Jarre. I'll see you when this is over.\"\n\nThe dwarf's eyes followed the boy until he disappeared through the door to the inn, occupied by the recruitment box.\n\n\"Or maybe I will not see you,\" he added quietly. \"Who knows what is written. What is chosen.\"\n\n\"Can you ride? Shoot a bow or crossbow?\"\n\n\"No, Commissioner. But I can control font and calligraphy. I know ancient runes... I know Elder Tongue...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Are you skilled with the sword?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Using a spear?\"\n\n\"I've read the history of wars. Writings by Marshal Pelligram. And Roderick de Novembre... '\n\n\"Can you at least cook?\"\n\n\"Not well... But I can count...\"\n\nThe recruiter rolled his eyes and waved his hand.\n\n\"More intellects. How many more will we get? Write him some papers for the PFI. You will serve in the PFI, young man. Take the papers to the south end of town, to the Maribor gate, next to the lake.\"\n\n\"But...\"\n\n\"You should have no problems with it. Next!\"\n\n\"Hey, Jarre! Wait!\"\n\n\"Melfi?\"\n\n\"It sure is,\" said the journeyman cooper, staggering and leaning against a wall. \"Brrr, I'm sick... '\n\n\"What is it?\"\n\n\"What do I know? Heh, heh! Nothing! We celebrated a bit. We drank to the defeat of the Nilfgaardians. Oh, Jarre, I'm glad to see you. I thought we had lost you somewhere... My friend... '\n\nJarre stepped back like someone had slapped him. The cooper not only reeked of dirty beer and brandy, but also onions, garlic and the devil knew what else. It was unbearable.\n\n\"Where did they go,\" he asked mockingly, \"your great comrades?\"\n\n\"Let the devil take them,\" Melfi grinned. \"You know why I came, Jarre? Because that Pike was not a good person.\"\n\n\"Bravo. Good for you.\"\n\n\"So you see,\" Melfi continued, not noticing Jarre's taunt.\"I was not easy to fool. Do you know why he came to Vizima? Do you think he wanted to join the army? You'd be wrong! You would not believe what he is up to.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'd believe it. '\n\n\"He needed horses and uniforms,\" Melfi concluded triumphantly. \"He wanted to steal them here, because he had an idea of going on bandit raids dressed as a soldier.\"\n\n\"He'll end upon the gallows. '\n\n\"I should say so,\" said the Cooper, leaning against the wall, unbuttoning his pants. \"I'm sorry for Ograbek and Milton, the stupid straw heads let themselves be deceived by Pike and they'll end upon the gallows as well. Do you know about yours, Jarre?\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Where are you assigned?\" Melfi asked while urinating on the whitewashed wall. \"I've been sent to the Maribor gate. On the south side of town. Where are you going to? '\n\n\"Also, there.\"\n\n\"Ha!\" the Cooper jumped a few times then buttoned his pants. \"We will fight together?\"\n\n\"I think not,\" Jarre said with an air of superiority. \"I have been assigned to the unit according to my qualifications. The FPI.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" Melfi hiccupped and burped his hideous drunken breath again. \"You're a scholar! You would certainly have an important position. But what can you do? Meanwhile we can continue to walk fora time together. After all, we have to go the same way to the south side of the city. '\n\n\"It seems so.\"\n\n\"Shall we?\"\n\n\"Let's go. '\n\n\"I don't think this is it, ' said Jarre, looking at the tents surrounding a courtyard, where the dust stirred around the feet of a company practicing maneuvers with long sticks on their shoulders. Each person, the young man realized, had a bundle of hay bound to their right leg and a bundle of straw on their left." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I think we took a wrong turn, Melfi.\"\n\n\"Straw! Hay!\" they could hear the roars from the courtyard from a sergeant who was addressing the ragged mob. \"Straw! Hay! Pickup the pace, or I'll whore your mother! '\n\n\"There is a flag over the tent,\" Melfi said. \"See for yourself, Jarre. These are the same lilies you told us about on the road. There is a flag? Yes. There is a camp? Yes. This indicates we are in the right place.\"\n\n\"Maybe for you. But certainly not for me.\"\n\n\"Look, there is someone over by the fence. Let's go ask them. '\n\nThen everything started to happen quickly.\n\n\"New recruits?\" yelled the sergeant. \"Give me your papers! Why the hell are you standing there next to each other! March! Left I said, not right! Trot, trot! Halt, fuck and about-face! Listen and remember! Go to the Master of Supplies! Collect your weapons! Chain shirt, tabard, pike, helmet and dagger! Then back here for drills! Be ready at sunset! Break ranks! Go!\"\n\n\"Wait,\" Jarre said looking insecure, \"Because I think I have another assignment...\"\n\n\"WHAT?\"\n\n\"Excuse me, Officer,\" Jarre blushed. \"I just want to prevent any mistake... The Commissioner clearly... Explicitly talked about an allocation to the PFI, so I...\"\n\n\"You're home, boy'snorted the sergeant, disarmed a bit by being called'officer\".\"This is your assignment. Welcome to the Poor Fucking Infantry. '\n\n\"Why,\" wondered Rocco Hildebrandt, \"do we still have to pay you, gentlemen soldiers? We have already paid all the taxes on time.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Collaborate with the author and advance the plot.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 7" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I think we took a wrong turn, Melfi.\"\n\n\"Straw! Hay!\" they could hear the roars from the courtyard from a sergeant who was addressing the ragged mob. \"Straw! Hay! Pickup the pace, or I'll whore your mother! '\n\n\"There is a flag over the tent,\" Melfi said. \"See for yourself, Jarre. These are the same lilies you told us about on the road. There is a flag? Yes. There is a camp? Yes. This indicates we are in the right place.\"\n\n\"Maybe for you. But certainly not for me.\"\n\n\"Look, there is someone over by the fence. Let's go ask them. '\n\nThen everything started to happen quickly.\n\n\"New recruits?\" yelled the sergeant. \"Give me your papers! Why the hell are you standing there next to each other! March! Left I said, not right! Trot, trot! Halt, fuck and about-face! Listen and remember! Go to the Master of Supplies! Collect your weapons! Chain shirt, tabard, pike, helmet and dagger! Then back here for drills! Be ready at sunset! Break ranks! Go!\"\n\n\"Wait,\" Jarre said looking insecure, \"Because I think I have another assignment...\"\n\n\"WHAT?\"\n\n\"Excuse me, Officer,\" Jarre blushed. \"I just want to prevent any mistake... The Commissioner clearly... Explicitly talked about an allocation to the PFI, so I...\"\n\n\"You're home, boy'snorted the sergeant, disarmed a bit by being called'officer\".\"This is your assignment. Welcome to the Poor Fucking Infantry. '\n\n\"Why,\" wondered Rocco Hildebrandt, \"do we still have to pay you, gentlemen soldiers? We have already paid all the taxes on time.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Do you hear this shrimp,\" Pike said grinning to his cronies on stolen horses." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"He said he already paid. And they think that that was everything. It's like the turkey who was pondering Sunday. But had his head cutoff on Saturday! '\n\nOkultich, Klaproth, Milton and Ograbek broke out in laughter. The joke was after all a front. And the fun was about to start.\n\nRocco saw the disgusting, sticky eyes of the ravagers and looked around. On the threshold of the cottage was Incarvilia Hildebrandt, his wife and his two daughters, Aloe and Yasmin.\n\nPike and his company looked at the halfling women, smiling lasciviously. Yes, without a doubt, this promised to be great fun.\n\nFrom out of a hedge on the other side of the road approached Hildebrandt's niece, Impatientia Vanderbeck, affectionately known as Impi. She was a truly beautiful girl. The bandit's smiles became even more disgusting.\n\n\"Come,\" Pike urged the halfling. \"Bring out food for us and the horses and take it to the barn. We do not want to be stuck hereafter dark. We want to visit the neighboring villages today.\"\n\n\"Why do we have to pay and give you what is ours?\" Rocco Hildebrandt's voice trembled slightly, but still remained stubborn and tenacious.\"You say it is for the army, for our defense. And who will protect us from hunger? We have already paid for the winter quarters and the contribution to the army, and the tax for each person and assessment for our lands, and rates and a taxon wagons and signposts and the devil knows what else! And as if this was not enough, four from our settlement, among them my own son, have been enlisted into the army. A relative of mine, Milo Vanderbeck, known as Rusty, is afield surgeon in the army and an important person. We have fulfilled their obligations. What are we to pay again? And why? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Pike continually watched the wife of the halfling, Incarvilia Hildebrandt of Biberveldt." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And the plump daughters, Aloe and Yasmin. Also the cute Impi Vanderbeck, who looked like a doll in a green dress. At Sam Hofmeier and his grandfather, and old man Holofernes. The grandmother Petunia, pecking viciously at her garden bed with a hoe. At the other halflings in the village, mainly women and youths, looking anxiously from behind houses and fences.\n\n\"You ask why?\" Pike hissed, leading forward in his saddle, looking into the eyes of the frightened halfling. \"I'll tell you why. Because you are mangy halfling, a runt, a stranger. You are inhuman and it is the will of the gods that you are beaten and killed. Because I cannot wait to see this rat hole burn and see you and your bitch scurry about. Because we are five humans and you area handful of cowards. Now do you know why? '\n\n\"Now I know,\" Rocco Hildebrandt said slowly. \"Get away from here, big people. Go faraway. We will not give you anything.\"\n\nPike sat up and reached for the sword hanging on his saddle.\n\n\"Strike!\" he shouted. \"Kill them.\"\n\nWith a movement, faster than the eye could follow, Rocco Hildebrandt bent down to his wheelbarrow, took out a crossbow hidden under some mats and shot his attacker with a bolt right into his open mouth. Incarvilia Hildebrandt, born a Biberveldt, whipped her hands through the air and threw a sickle which neatly cut through Milton's larynx. The country boy a son of a servant began to vomit blood and flipped over the back of his horse, legs waving. Ograbek, emitting a scream, and fell face down under the hooves of his horse, in his belly up to the wooden handle was stuck grandfather Holofernes knife. The burly Klaproth started to club the old man, but flew out of his saddle, squealing terribly, hit straight in the eye with a skewer flung by Impiana Vanderbeck. Okultich wheeled his horse and tried to flee, but grandmother Petunia jumped up and sliced her hoe into his thigh. Okultich roared and fell, his foot still stuck in the stirrup, his frightened horse dragged him through hedges and over sharp sticks. The dragged robber roared and howled and after him raced grandmother Petunia with her hoe and Impiana with a crooked knife for grafting trees. Old man Holofernes blew his nose loudly through his fingers." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The whole episode– from Pike screaming to grandfather Holofernes blowing his nose– took about as long as it would take to say– \"Halflings are extremely fast and agile and can flawless hurl missiles of all kinds.\"\n\nRocco sat on the steps of the cottage. Beside him sat his wife Incarvilia. Their daughters went to help Sam Hofmeier strip the slain and wounded.\n\nImpiana came back with her green dress pulled back to the elbows. Grandmother Petunia also came back, she walked slowly, panting and groaning and leaning on her hoe.\n\nOh, our grandmother is getting older and aging, Rocco thought.\n\n\"Where should we bury the robbers, Mister Rocco?\" asked Sam Hofmeier.\n\nRocco Hildebrandt took his wife in his arms and looked at the sky.\n\n\"In the birch grove,\" he said, \"along with the ones who have come before them.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The sensational adventures of Mister Malcolm Guthrie of Braemore have achieved great notoriety in the pages of the largest newspapers, even the London'Daily Mail\" has dedicate a few lines in the'Bizarre\" section. Since we know that only a small number of our subscribers read press releases issued south of Tweed, we will recall the said event. On March 10th this year Mister Malcolm Guthrie went with a fishing rod to Loch Glascarnoch. There Mister Guthrie saw out of the mist and nothingness (sic) from the lake appeared a girl with a scar on her face (sic), riding a black mare (sic), accompanied by a white unicorn (sic). The girl approached the stunned Mister Guthrie and spoke to him in a language that Mister Guthrie described as, and I quote'French, I think, or a dialect of another continent.\" However, as Mister Guthrie does not speak French or any other dialect from anther continent, he could not talk to the girl. The girl and the unicorn disappeared, to quote Mister Guthrie again'Like a golden dream.\"\n\nEditor Review: The dream of Mister Guthrie was a golden color like the color of single malt whiskey, which we learned from a reliable source that he used to drink regularly and which fully explains the visions of white unicorns, white mice and monsters from Scottish lakes. But the main question we want to ask Mister Guthrie is-What were you doing with a fishing rod on the shores of Lock Glascarnoch four days after the ban on fishing?\n\nInverness Weekly, March 18,1906\n\nThe wind picked up, clouds rushed from the west and gradually enveloped the constellations. The Dragon vanished, the Lady Winter and then the Seven Goats. Finally the Eye disappeared, the constellation that shone the brightest." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The dome of the sky gleamed along the horizon briefly with lightning. It was joined by a dull thunderclap. The storm grew more violent, throwing dust and dry leaves into her eyes.\n\nThe unicorn whinnied and sent another mental signal.\n\nWe must not waste time. Our only hope is a quick getaway. At the right place and the right time. Hurry Star Eyes.\n\nI am the Lady of the Worlds. I am of the Elder Blood. I am from the blood of Lara Dorren, the daughter of Shiadhal.\n\nIhuarraquax whinnied again, urging her to hurry. Kelpie whinnied as well. Ciri pulled on a pair of gloves.\n\n\"I'm ready, ' she said.\n\nAbuzz sounded in her ears. Aglow. And then darkness.\n\nThe curses of the Fisher King, while he pulled and twisted on a rope on his boat trying to free it from the tangled web at the bottom of the lake, broke the silence of the afternoon. The oars, which were loose, rattled softly. Nimue coughed impatiently and Condwiramurs turned, leaving the window and leaned back over the prints. There was one print that drew the eye more than the other. A girl with ruffled hair, sitting on a prancing horse. Next to her was a white unicorn.\n\n\"Perhaps for this part of the legend,\" mused the adept, \"the historians had no objection and just recognized it as a fictional story or a metaphor. But the artists and painters, took a liking to this episode. Look, here is a picture with Ciri with a unicorn. Here is Ciri with a unicorn on a cliff above the sea, hereon a narcotic induced landscape, and hereunder two moons.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nimue was silent.\n\n\"In short,\" Condwiramurs threw the prints onto the table, \"Ciri and the unicorn from all sides. Ciri and the unicorn in the labyrinth of worlds, Ciri and the unicorn in the abyss of time...\"\n\n\"Ciri and the unicorn,\" interrupted Nimue, looking out the window at the lake, to the boat with the Fisher King. \" Ciri and the unicorn appearing out of nothingness like ghosts and hanging over a lake, a lake that unites time and places like abridge, all the time different and yet always the same? '\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"Phantoms,\" Nimue said not looking at her. \"Visitors from other dimensions, other levels, other places, other times. Visions that transform one's life. Transforms your life and your destiny... Without knowing. For them it is... just another place. The wrong place, wrong time. Who knows how many times... '\n\n\"Nimue,\" Condwiramurs interrupted her with a forced laugh. \"You recall that I'm the dreamer here. And you all of a sudden begin to divine. You were talking, like you saw it... in a dream. '\n\nThe Fisher King, judging from the intensity of his voice and curses, failed to untangle the rope, and it broke. Nimue was silent, looking at the pictures. Ciri and the Unicorn.\n\n\"It is true,\" she said at last, \"I have seen this in my dreams. I have seen it in my dreams many times. And once while awake.\"\n\nThe journey from Czluchow to Malbork may under some circumstances take up to five days. And because Grand Master Winrich von Kniprode letter had to reach the addressee no later than the day of Pentecost, Heinrich von Schwelborn the knight was not slow and left the day after the Sunday of Exaudi Domine, to be able to travel safely and without any risk of delay. Slowly but steadily. The knight's approach was greatly enjoyed by his company, six crossbowmen, commanded by Hasso Planck, the son of a baker from Cologne. The crossbowmen and Planck were more accustomed to these knights cursing, shouting and ordering them to ride their horses to death to arrive on time and then casting all the blame on their poor servants for any delays." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was cold, although it was cloudy. From time to time it drizzled, and fog rippled through the ravines. The hills covered in dense vegetation reminded the knight Heinrich of his native Thuringia. The crossbowmen sang at the rear the ballad of Walther von Vogelwiede and Hasso Planck dozed in the saddle.\n\nIf you love a good woman\n\nIt is the cure to all iniquity...\n\nThe travel proceeded peacefully and who knows, maybe the end would have been peaceful if not for the fact that around noon the knight Heinrich saw at the bottom of the road, a shimmering lake. And since the next day was Friday and custom decreed that they fast from red meat, the knight ordered them to enter the water and look for fish.\n\nThe lake was large, it even had an island. No one knew what its name was, but it was surely called Sacred. In this pagan country every second lake was called Sacred.\n\nThe hooves of the horses crushed shells on the shore. The fog hungover the lake and the wilderness. There were no signs of boats or nets, not a soul. We will have to look elsewhere, Heinrich von Schwelborn thought. And if not, then so be it. We will eat what we have in our saddlebags, even the jerky, and we'll confess to chaplain Malbork, who can grant us absolution for our sins.\n\nHe was about to give the order when in his head, under his helmet, started abuzz. Hasso Planck released a sharp cry. Von Schwelborn looked in the same direction and crossed himself.\n\nHe saw two horses– one white and the other black. In the next moment he noticed that the white horses head was domed with a twisted horn that rose from its forehead. He also realized that the black horse, actually a sable mare, had a girl sitting on it with grey hair which covered part of her face. The visions seemed not to touch either the land or the water, and he had the feeling that they were part of the mist that twisted above the surface of the lake." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The black horse whinnied.\n\n\"Ooops,\" the girl with the grey hair said quite clearly. \"Ire lokke, ire tedd! Squaess'me. '\n\n\"Saint Ursula, Patroness...\" Hasso stammered, pale as death. The crossbowmen froze with open mouths, and made the sign of the cross in front of them.\n\nVon Schwelborn also crossed himself, and with a trembling hand drew his sword from its scabbard strapped to his saddle.\n\n\"Holy Mary, Mother of God!\" he cried. \"Stand with me!\"\n\nKnight Heinrich did not bring shame to his ancestors that day, including Dietrich von Schwelborn, who valiantly fought against Damietta and was one of the few to not runaway\n\nwhen the Saracens conjured and released a horse of black demons. Kicking his heels into his horse and remembering his ancestors, Heinrich von Schwelborn charged the apparition.\n\n\"By the Order and Saint George!\"\n\nThe white unicorn reared back and the black mare danced. The girl, you could see at a glance was frightened as knight Heinrich rushed to the attack. God knows how it would have ended, all of a sudden a gust of wind brought a scrap of mist from the lake, and the vision vanished in a rainbow of colors like crushed stones or broken stained glass. The phantoms disappeared– the unicorn, the mare and the strange girl...\n\nThe sorrel on which Heinrich von Schwelborn was mounted entered the lake with a splash, stopped and shook its head and snorted, chewing at the bit.\n\nHasso Planck mastered the reluctant horse and headed for the knight. Von Schwelborn was breathing and wheezing, his eyes bulging like a fishes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"The bones of Saint Ursula, Saint Korduli and all the eleven thousand virgin martyrs...\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Hasso Planck managed. \"What was it? Knight Heinrich? A miracle? A revelation?\"\n\n\"The devil's work! \"von Schwelborn gasped, now only pale and trembling.\"Black magic! Witchcraft! A damned thing, pagan and demonic. '\n\n\"We'd better get out of her, Sir. The sooner... We are not far from Pelplin, let the church bells guide us... '\n\nIn the same forest, on a hill, the knight Heinrich looked down one last time. The wind drove the fog back in places and the wrinkled surface of the lake became visible.\n\nOver the water circled a great eagle.\n\n\"Wicked, pagan country,\" Heinrich von Schwelborn muttered. \"Lot and lots of hard work await us; the law of the Teutonic Knights will finally drive the devil from here.\"\n\n\"Horsey,\" Ciri said reproachfully, and ironically at the same time. \"I would not want to rush you, but I'm in a bit of a hurry to get to my world. My loved ones need me, you know. Instead we almost fall into a lake and see a man in funny clothes, then we see a band of dirty screamers with clubs and finally a madman with across! These are not my world or my time! Please try to get better. Please. '\n\nIhuarraquax whinnied and nodded his horn and sent Ciri a mental idea. Ciri misunderstood. She had no time to thin since the inside of her skull was again flooded by a cold clarity, her ears buzzed and her body tingled.\n\nAnd again the darkness engulfed her.\n\nNimue, laughing with delight, pulled the man's hand, they both ran to the lake, dodging among the birches and alders. On the sandy shore, Nimue kicked off her sandals, lifted her dress and ran barefoot into the water. The man pulled off his shoes, but did not go into the water. He took off his cloak and carefully spread it on the ground." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nimue ran to him and hugged him around the neck. She stood on tiptoe, and even so the man had to bend deeply to kiss her. They did not call her Thumbelina for nothing, but now since she was eighteen and was accomplished in the magical arts, she only permitted her closes friends to call her that. And some men.\n\nThe man, not taking his lips from Nimue's, slid his hand behind her neck.\n\nThen it went quickly. They were both on the sand on his cloak. Nimue's skirt was hiked up over her waist, her legs wrapped around the man's hips and her nails dug into his shoulders and back. When he took her, as usual, he was too impatient, she gritted her teeth,\n\nbut quickly caught up in the excitement of it. The man emitted ridiculous sounds. Over his shoulder Nimue watched slowly flying clouds of fantastic shapes.\n\nSomething dimly rang like a bell underwater. Nimue heard a murmur in her ears. Magic, she thought, and turned her head away from the face of the man. Standing by the shore– hanging above the surface, was a white unicorn. At his side was a black mare. In the saddle on the horse sat a girl...\n\nBut I know this legend, the thought flashed through Nimue's head. I know this story! When I was a child I heard this tale, from the old wandering storyteller... The Witcheress Ciri... The scar on her cheek... The black mare, Kelpie... The unicorn... The Land of the Elves...\n\nThe movement of the man, who was oblivious to the events going on, became more violent, and he issued funnier sounds.\n\n\"Ooops,\" said the girl sitting on the black mare. \"Another mistake! Not here, not at this time. To make matters worse, I think we arrived at the completely wrong time. Sorry.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The image faded and burst, exploding like painted glass, into a riot of rainbow luminescence, radiance and brightness, then everything disappeared.\n\n\"No!\" Nimue cried. \"No! Don't disappear! Don't run!\"\n\nShe straightened her knees and tried to break free of the man, but could not– he was more powerful than her and heavier. The man groaned and grunted.\n\n\"Ooooh, Nime... Oooh!\"\n\nNimue screamed and sunk her teeth into his shoulder.\n\nThey lay side by side on the crumpled cloak, sweaty and anxious. Nimue looked back at the lakeshore. The waves gave off an off-white foam. The reeds bent in the wind. The colorless, bleak emptiness that remained after the lost legend.\n\nTears flowed down Nimue's face.\n\n\"Nimue... Is something wrong?\"\n\n\"Yes, there was...\" She clung to him, but still looked at the lake. \"Don't talk. Hold me and say nothing. '\n\nThe man smiled.\n\n\"I know what happened,\" he said boastfully. \"The earth moved, right?\"\n\nNimue smiled sadly.\n\n\"Not only the earth,\" she said after a moment. \"Not only the earth.\"\n\nA flash. Darkness. The next place.\n\nThe place was gloomy, sinister and repulsive.\n\nCiri involuntarily hunched in her saddle. She was shaken, both physically and mentally. Kelpie's horseshoes rang on something flat and smooth, durable and as hard as rock. After along time gliding in oblivion where everything was soft, the mare whinnied and began to pull violently to one side; smashing her hooves into the hard rock with such a staccato that Ciri's teeth rang." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The second shook was from a smell." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ciri gasped ad covered her mouth and nose with her sleeve. She could feel her eyes immediately fill with tears.\n\nAround her floated an acid, corrosive, dense stench, it was choking and disgusting and she could not remember ever smelling anything like it. What it was– was the stench of decay, cadaverous, the final stench in the chain of degradation and degeneration, the smell of\n\nruin and destruction, and she felt that whatever was rotting had smelt no better when it had been alive. Even at its heyday.\n\nShe bent over with her gag reflex, which she could no longer suppress. Kelpie snorted and tossed her head. The unicorn, who appeared beside them, sat on his haunches, jumped and kicked. The impact with the hard surface was answered with aloud echo.\n\nAround them, the night was dark and wrapped them in a choking haze. Ciri looked up to get their bearings by the stars, but above her head was nothing but a black vault, just above the horizon was illuminated by the red glare of distant fires.\n\n\"Ooops,\" she said, when she grinned she felt a sticky, acidic moisture on her lips \"Brrrr. Wrong place, wrong time. In the literal sense!\"\n\nThe unicorn snorted and shook his head, his horn moved in a short arc.\n\nThe floor grating under Kelpie's hooves was rock, but a strange, and unnaturally even which gave off an intense smell of burning ash and dirt. It took awhile before Ciri realized the maybe it was a road. She was getting the most agonizing shock with each step, therefore she turned Kelpie towards the verge lined with something that was perhaps once trees, but now only looked like mutilated skeletons, from which hung tattered shreds which reminded her of the remnants of rotten shrouds." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The unicorn warned her with a whinny and a mental signal. But it was too late.\n\nThe dead trees began to slope down and ended at a deep escarpment. Ciri screamed and kicked her heels into the mare's sides. Kelpie strained muscles were bunching up and her hooves were crushing what was covering– or basically consisted of the slope– garbage, mostly some weird empty containers. These containers did not crumple under the horseshoes, but broke as if disgustingly soft, like big fish bladders. Each of them gurgled softly and emitted a smell that nearly knocked Ciri out of the saddle. Kelpie, neighing furiously, stomped up the dump towards the road. Ciri, choking from the stench, clung to the mare's neck.\n\nThe made it. The hardness of the unpleasant road was greeted with an odd mixture of joy and relief.\n\nCiri was still shaking as she looked down the hill. The escarpment ended at a black lake at the bottom. Its surface was glossy and motionless, as if there was no water, but was filled with pitch. Behind the lake, past mounds of ash and slagheaps the sky glowed with distant fires.\n\nAbove the horizon ruddy columns of smoke were rising.\n\nThe unicorn snorted. Ciri wanted to rub her watery eyes on her sleeve, but found that the entire sleeve was covered with dust. A layer of dust also covered her thighs, saddle and Kelpie's neck and mane. The smell was unbearable.\n\n\"How disgusting,\" she muttered. \"Revolting... Let's leave. Let's leave quickly, Horsey.\"\n\nThe unicorn pricked up his ears.\n\nOnly you can make that happen. Do it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Me? Alone? Without your help?\"\n\nThe unicorn nodded his horn. Ciri scratched her head, sighed and closed her eyes. She concentrated.\n\nFirst, she felt only suspicion, uncertainty and fear. But soon her mind was awash in a cold light– the light of knowledge and power. She had no idea where this source of knowledge and the wellspring of power had come from, but she knew she could. She could if she wanted to.\n\nOnce again she looked at the motionless dead lake, the steaming heap of waste and the skeleton of trees. In the distance the sky was illuminated by the glow of fires.\n\n\"Fine,\" she said. \"This is not my world.\"\n\nThe unicorn whinnied eloquently. She understood what he wanted to say.\n\n\"And if it's is mine, \"she wiped her eyes and nose with a handkerchief,\"then I hope that it is infinitely faraway in time. Either it's the distant past, or...\"\n\nShe stopped.\n\n\"The past,\" she said dully after a moment. \"I believe this is the past.\"\n\nThe heavy rain which greeted them at their next jump was a welcome blessing. The downpour smelled of mud, grass and summer and quickly washed away the dirt and dust from the dead world.\n\nAfter sometime, however, the long cleansing became unbearable. Water spilled down Ciri's collar, it soaked her to the skin and started to make her uncomfortably cold. Therefore she quickly jumped from the wet place.\n\nBecause it was also not the right place or time.\n\nThe next place was very warm, an intense heat prevailed there, so Ciri, Kelpie and the unicorn dried very quickly and the water vanished off of them like vapor from a teapot. They were in a heath ravaged by the sun on the edge of a forest. They could immediately see it was a great forest, a dense forest, wild and incredibly thick." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the throbbing heat, Ciri hoped this might be the forest of Brokilon and finally a known location.\n\nThey rode slowly around the edge of the forest. Ciri looked for anything that could determine where they were. The unicorn snorted, lifted his horned lead and looked around, sniffing. He was restless.\n\n\"Do you think, Horsey,\" she said, \"that they can chase us?\"\n\nHis snort was clear and unambiguous, even without the telepathy.\n\n\"Have we not managed to escape far enough yet?\"\n\nThe thought that he sent her she didn't understand. Not faraway and not close? What does that mean? The Spiral? What spiral?\n\nShe did not understand what he meant. But she understood his anxiety.\n\nThe hot heath was not the right place and not the right time.\n\nThey realized that night, when the heat had yielded and in the sky over the forest appeared not one moon, but two. One large and one small.\n\nThe next place was at the edge of a sea, on a very steep cliff from which doves were spread out on strangely shaped rocks. The wind smelled of the ocean, shrieking terns, gulls and petrels and white layer covered the rocky terraces. The sea reached to the horizon, framed by dark clouds.\n\nDown on a stony beach, Ciri could suddenly distinguish the skeleton of a giant monstrous fish head partly buried in the gravel. The teeth that protruded from the white jaw were over three feet in length and the jaw itself gave the sense that one could going riding through the portal of the ribs without ever touching the head or spine.\n\nCiri was not sure if this washer world or her time as there were fish like that there as well." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They walked along the edge of the cliff. Seagulls and albatrosses did not seem frightened at all, they did not move out of the way, they even pecked and slashed their beaks at Kelpie\n\nand Ihuarraquax. Ciri knew that these birds had never seen a horse or unicorn. Or humans either.\n\nIhuarraquax snorted, shook his head and horn and was visibly uneasy.\n\nHe turned out to be correct. Something snapped, like the sound of torn fabric. The gulls rose with a shriek and aflutter, covering everything instantly in a cloud of white feathers. The air over the cliff suddenly trembled and became cloudy and broke like glass.\n\nFrom the crack and darkness emerged riders. Behind them blew coats, whose color resembled the reflection in the sky from the setting sun.\n\nDearg Ruadhri. The Red Riders.\n\nEven before the screaming birds and the warning neigh, Ciri, Kelpie and the unicorn turned to flee. But the air had already cracked on the other side of them and from the crack spilled riders. The pursuers formed a semicircle around them and closed, pushing Ciri closed to the abyss. She screamed and pulled her sword from its sheath.\n\nThe unicorn sent her a strong signal that pierced her brain like a needle. Ciri understood immediately. He showed her the way. There was a hole in the skirmish line. The unicorn whinnied menacingly and threw himself against the elves.\n\n\"Horsey!\"\n\nSave yourself, Star Eyes! Do not allow yourself to be caught.\n\nShe clung to Kelpie's mane.\n\nTwo elves cut across her path. They held long poles with rope loops at the end. They tried to throw them around Kelpie's neck. The first loop, the mare gracefully ducked her head under, without slowing in the least. The second loop was severed by a swing from Ciri's sword. The mare swept between the elves like a storm." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But other pursuers were already on her heels, Ciri hear their cries and the clatter of hooves. What happened to Horsey? What did he do?\n\nShe had no time for reflection. The unicorn was right, she could not allow herself to be caught. She had to escape into space, hide and lose them in the maze of places and times. When she tried to concentrate, she felt panic, because in her head she suddenly found a strange emptiness and rapidly growing confusion.\n\nThey are casting a spell on me, she thought. They want to deceive me with spells. But even spells have a limited range. I cannot let them get tome.\n\n\"Run, Kelpie!\"\n\nThe black mare stretched her neck and flew like the wind. Ciri stuck to her neck to provide the minimum of wind resistance.\n\nThe shouts behind the, which only a moment before had been loud and dangerously close, faded and were drowned out by the cries of frightened birds. Then complete silence.\n\nKelpie ran like a storm. The sea wind howled through their ears.\n\nIn the distant cries of their pursuers came a note of anger. They had realized that they were not going to catch her. They were never going to reach the black mare galloping without any signs of tiredness, light, soft and elastic like a cheetah.\n\nCiri did not look back. She knew that her pursuers would still be following. They would follow until their own horses began to snort, wheeze and stumble almost to the ground, with their mouths open and full of foam. Only then would they stop following her and shout curses and impotent threats.\n\nKelpie ran like the wind.\n\nThe place to where she escaped was dry and windy. The prickly wind quickly dried the tears on her face. She was alone. Alone again. A tramp, and eternal pilgrim, a swimmer wandering the endless oceans between the islands, of places and time." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A swimmer losing hope.\n\nThe wind whistles and moaned and rushed over the cracked earth and clumps of weeks.\n\nThe wind dried her tears.\n\nInside her head a cool brightness murmured in her ears, the constant murmur of the heart of a seashell. There was a burning sensation in her throat. Black soft nothingness.\n\nAnew place and time, another place and time. The islands of places and times.\n\n\"Tonight,\" Nimue said, wrapping herself in fur, \"will be a goodnight. I can feel it.\"\n\nCondwiramurs said nothing, although she had heard similar assurances several times. It was not the first night that they had sat on the balcony in front of them the shining lake and the setting sun, behind them the magic mirror and the magical tapestry.\n\nFrom the lake echo the curses from the fisher King, who did not hesitate invoicing his distaste for fishing failures. According to his repertoire, it was possible to conclude that today he had been extremely successful.\n\n\"Time,\" said Nimue, \"has no beginning and no end. It is like the serpent Uroboros, which holds in its teeth its own tail. Every moment hides eternity and eternity is made up of moments. Eternity is an archipelago of moments, which can float, but navigation is extremely difficult and deviation from the course is dangerous. It is good to have a beacon that can light the way in the darkness, to hear a cry through the fog...\"\n\nShe paused fora moment.\n\n\"How do we end this interesting legend? It seems to us, you and me, we know how it ends. But Uroboros still keeps his teeth in his own tail and how the legend ends will be decided in this moment. It just depends on whether the wandering swimmer sees or hears the beacon through the fog.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "From the lake they could hear more swearing, splashing water and the creaking of oars.\n\n\"Tonight will be a goodnight. The last before the summer solstice. The moon wanes, the sun enters the fourth house, enters the sign of Capricorn. The best time to dream. Concentrate, Condwiramurs.\"\n\nLike so many times before, Condwiramurs obediently focused until falling into a trace-like state.\n\n\"Find her,\" said Nimue. \"She is somewhere between the stars, somewhere in the moonlight, between the islands of places and times. She is alone. She needs help. Help her Condwiramurs.\"\n\nConcentration, fist on her temples. In her ears the sound like from inside a conch shell. A flash. And suddenly soft, black nothingness.\n\nShe was in a place where Ciri could see flaming piles. The women who were in them were chained to stakes, begging for mercy, but the crowd laughed, cheered and danced. She was in a place where a great city was burning, the flames leapt from collapsing roofs and black smoke covered the sky. She was in a place where giant lizards fought and the wounds from their terrible teeth and claws flowed with blood. She was in a place where hundreds of identical white windmills intersected the air with slender blades. She was in a place where the stones rustled and rattled with the sounds of scales and the hissing of thousands of snakes. She was in place where they was only darkness and in the darkness, voices whispered in fear.\n\nShe was in a lot of other places. But none of them were right.\n\nShe transported from place to place and it was going so well she decided to started a little experiment. One of the few places where she was not afraid was the heated hearth on the edge of the forest. She summoned a memory of the sight of the two moons and repeated this in her mind that this is what she wanted. Ciri concentrated, strained and plunged into nothingness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She succeed on the second try.\n\nThe success gave her confidence and encouraged her to an even more daring attempt. It was clear that part from visiting different places, she could also visit different times, Vysogota and the elves and mentioned it and so had the unicorns.\n\nShe did it, albeit unknowingly, earlier. When she had been wounded in the face she escaped her enemies by jumping to another time. She transported herself four days ahead, and when Vysogota calculated the days, it didn't fit...\n\nSo maybe it washer chance? To jump through time?\n\nShe decided to try it. The burning city for example, would not burn eternally. What if she got there before the fire? Or after?\n\nShe jumped right into the center of the fire. Arousing panic among the refugees who ran from their houses, scorching her lashes and eyebrows.\n\nShe escaped to the friendly heath. It is not worth risking it this way, she thought, the devil knows what could happen. I'll stick to the proven method of jumps between different places, but I'll try to get to places that I can remember. One where I was safe.\n\nShe started with the temple of Melitele, imagining the gate, the building, the parks and workshops, the dormitories of the adepts, the room in which she lived with Yennefer.\n\nShe focused on the temple recalled the faces of Nenneke, Eurneid, Katye and Iola the Second.\n\nIt did notwork. She jumped into a swamp full of mosquitoes where the whistle of turtles resounded and frogs croaked.\n\nAfter she tried– without success– Kaer Morhen, the Skellige islands and the bank in Gors Velen where Fabio Sachs worked. She did not dare try and enter Cintra, she knew the city was occupied by the Nilfgaardians. Instead she attempted Vizima, the city where she and Yennefer went shopping once." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Aarhenius Krantz, a sage, alchemist, astronomer and astrologer, squirmed on his hard stood with his eye pressed against the eyepiece of a telescope." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The first magnitude comet, which would only be in the sky fora week, was necessary to study and describe. The learned astrologer knew that such a comet with a fiery red tail predicted great misfortune, war and bloodshed. In truth, this time the comet was a little late, because the war with Nilfgaard had\n\nalready stretched fora longtime and bloodshed could be reliably predicted without celestial phenomena. But Aarhenius Krantz was thoroughly familiar with the movement of the comet and so he was going to calculate how many years or centuries until the comet returned, heralding anew war, to which, who know, they will be better prepared than the current one.\n\nThe astronomer rose, rubbed his backside and went to relieve his bladder, over the side of the terrace. He always pissed for the terrace directly into the bed of peonies, regardless of the owners reprimands. The toilet was just too faraway, the time wasted in the long march there would make him risk losing valuable observations, an no scientist could afford that.\n\nHe stood at the railing, undid his pants and looked at the reflection of Vizima's lights in the lake. He sighed in relief and raised his eyes to the stars/\n\nThe stars, he thought, and constellations. Lady Winter, The Seven goats, the Pitcher. According to some theories they are not just blinking light, but worlds. Other worlds. Worlds, which are separated from us by time and space... I firmly believe, that it will be possible to travel to these other places, to those other times and cosmos. Yes, certainly it will be possible one day. There is away. But this will require whole new ideas, new and refreshing ideas that will burst the dogma of today...\n\nAh, he thought, if only it were possible... Attaining enlightenment, finding clues! If I found one unique occasion..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Below, next to the terrace, something shone, the dark night burst like a star and with a pop there appeared a horse, with a rider on its back. The rider was a girl.\n\n\"Good evening,\" she greeted politely. \"I apologize if it is late. Could you tell me what this place is? And the date?\"\n\nAarhenius Krantz gulped gasped and spluttered.\n\n\"The place?\" the girl repeated patiently. \"The date.\"\n\n\"Aha... This... Ahh...\"\n\nThe horse snorted. The girl sighed.\n\n\"We are in the wrong place, I failed again. Wrong place, wrong time! But try to answer me man! At least one intelligible word. Because I've never found a world where people have forgotten how to speak! '\n\n\"Er...\"\n\n\"Just one word.\"\n\n\"Er...\"\n\n\"Damn you, fucking idiot,\" said the girl.\n\nAnd the disappeared. Along with the horse.\n\nAarhenius Krantz shut his mouth. He remained standing fora moment beside the railing, staring into the night, into the lake which reflected Vizima's lights. The he tied up his pants and returned to his telescope.\n\nThe comet crossed the sky at full speed. It needed to be constantly monitored, without looking away from the eyepiece. It needed to be watched until it disappeared into the depth of space. That was the unique opportunity that no true scholar must squander.\n\n---\n\nI'll try another way, she thought as she watched the two moons. It was now seen as two narrow crescents, one bigger and one smaller. I'll try it another way, I've tried imagining a place or a face, Now I'll try a powerful desire. I wish strongly, from my heart..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What's the harm in trying?\n\nGeralt. I want Geralt. I really want Geralt.\n\n\"Oh no,\" she cried. \"The devil take me!\"\n\nKelpie neighed confirmed her felt the same way. Steam exploded from his nostrils and his hooves sank into the snow.\n\nThe storm howled, blinding them with sharp ice crystals that hacked at their faces. Cold penetrated her clothing and bit like a wolf. Ciri was shaking, stooping her shoulder and her neck, trying to hide herself in her raised collar.\n\nTo the right and left loomed majestic peaks, granite monuments, whose peaks bathed in the blizzard. Ina valley a rushing river was rushing and thick with ice. Everywhere was white.\n\nI have these abilities, Ciri thought, such power. I'm the Lady of the Worlds but there is no point! I wanted Geralt and I find myself lost in the wilderness, in winter in a blizzard.\n\n\"Come, Kelpie, move or you'll freeze! \"she pulled on the reins with fingers that were numb with cold.\"Come on, bullhead! I know that this is the wrong place, now we'll return to our warm heath. But I have to concentrate and it takes sometime. So, move!\"\n\nThe mare exhaled a cloud of steam.\n\nThe wind blew; snow fell on her face and froze her eyelashes. The wind howled and whistled.\n\n\"Look!\" Angouleme shouted above the wind. \"Look there! There are hoof prints. Someone was here!\"\n\n\"What did you say?\" Geralt moved the scarf which he had around his head to avoid his ears freezing. \"What, Angouleme?\"\n\n\"Footprints! Hoof prints!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Who could bring a horse here?\" Cahir also had to scream above the river Sansretour, which thundered and echoed. \"How can you get a horse up here?\"\n\n\"Look for yourself?\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" said the vampire, the only member of the company that showed no symptoms of freezing, obviously had equal susceptibility to low and high temperatures. \"They're tracks. But are they really from a horse? '\n\n\"Certainly not,\" said Cahir running his cheeks and nose. \"Not in this wilderness. It must have been some wild animal. Probably an ibex.\"\n\n\"You're an ibex, you stupid goat! \"shouted Angouleme.\"When I say it was a horse, it was a horse! '\n\nMilva, as usual, preferred practice to theory. She jumped from her saddle and knelt, throwing back her hood.\n\n\"The brat is right, it is definitely a horse. Perhaps even shod, but it's hard to say. The wind has blown away a lot of traces. They went there into that ravine. '\n\n\"Ha!\" Angouleme rubbed her hands together. \"I knew it! Someone lives here! Let's follow their trail maybe we'll find a warm cottage. Maybe they have afire? Perhaps they'll welcome us? '\n\n\"Perhaps with an arrow from a crossbow,\" Cahir added sarcastically.\n\n\"It would be wiser to stick to the plan of following the river,\" Regis decreed in his omniscient voice. \"We will not run the risk of getting lost. And along the shore of the Sansretour there are trading posts we can fallback on.\"\n\n\"What do you think, Geralt?\"\n\nThe witcher was silent, staring into the swirling snowstorm." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We'll follow the tracks, ' he said finally.\n\n\"I do not...\" the vampire begun, but Geralt did not let him finish.\n\n\"We'll follow the tracks! Let's go,\" he ordered.\n\nThe spurred their horses, but did not travel too far. They had gone into the ravine about a quarter mile.\n\n\"They've ended, \"Angouleme said, looking down at the pristine snow.\"The horse has disappeared like in an Elvish circus. '\n\n\"What now, witcher?\" Cahir turned in his saddle. \"The tracks have disappeared. The wind has covered them.\"\n\n\"No,\" disagreed Milva. \"The storm isn't blowing hard enough in the ravine to hide tracks. '\n\n\"So what happened to the horse?\"\n\nThe archer shrugged and huddled up in her saddle.\n\n\"Where is the horse?\" Cahir did not give up. \"Did it flyaway? Vanish? Or are we just dreaming?\"\n\nThe storm wailed over the ravine.\n\n\"Why,\" asked the vampire, staring with profound insight at the witcher. \"Why did you lead us after the tracks, Geralt?\"\n\n\"I don't know, \"Geralt admitted reluctantly.\"Something... I felt something. Something I knew. It doesn't matter. You were right, Regis. Let's return to the Sansretour and stick close to the river. No more side trips along the way. According to what Reynart said, real winter and bad weather are waiting for us just beyond the pass of Malhuer. When we get there, we will need to beat full strength. Don't just stand there, let's go. '\n\n\"But what happened to the horse?\"\n\n\"What's happened to him? \"muttered the witcher.\"His footsteps have been covered by the snow. Or maybe it wasn't a horse, but an ibex.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Milva looked at him wryly, but refrained from making any comment.\n\nWhen they returned to the river, the mysterious tracks were gone, covered by wet snow. The steel-grey Sansretour river flowed thickly with ice which twirled and twisted in the water.\n\n\"I will tell you something,\" Angouleme said. \"But you have to promise that you are not going to laugh.\"\n\nThey turned to face her. Covered with a woolen cap pulled down over her ears, with cheeks and nose red from the cold, wearing a large coat, the girl looked funny, just like a pudgy little kobold.\n\n\"It is about those tracks. When I was riding with Nightingale, in his Hanse, they said that in winter along the mountain passes, on an enchanted horse, rides the King of the Mountain, the ruler of the ice demons. To meet him face to face is certain death. What do you say, Geralt? Is it possible...\"\n\n\"Anything,\" he interrupted her. \"Anything is possible in this company. The Malhuer pass is ahead of us.\"\n\nThe snow whipped and lashed, the wind blew and among cliffs came the whistling and howling of ice demons.\n\nThe heath to which she had jumped was not the familiar heath, Ciri knew immediately. She did not even have to wait until evening, she was confident that see would not see two moons.\n\nShe rode around the edges of the forest and also noticed differences. For example, there were many more birches and much less beeches. She had not heard or seen any birds. There\n\nwas among the clumps of heather only dry sand, there used to be a green carpet. Even the grasshoppers here were different, frightened by Kelpie's steps. So familiar. And yet..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her heartbeat faster. She saw a path, overgrown and neglected. Leading into the forest.\n\nCiri thoroughly explored the surrounding area and made sure that the path did not end. That it did not lead to the woods, but led through it. She wasted no time, kicking her heels into her mare and rode into the trees. I'll ride for half a day, she thought, if I don't find anything I'll turnaround and go the opposite direction, into the heath.\n\nShe walked under the canopy of the trees, looking carefully around her, trying not to miss anything important. Thanks to this approach she did not miss the little old man who watched her from behind an oak.\n\nThe old man was small, but not hunched. He was wearing a linen shirt and trousers of the same material. On his feet he wore enormous, ridiculously looking sandals. In one hand he carried a gnarled cane and in the other a wicker basket. Ciri could not clearly see his face as it was concealed by a straw hat, from which protruded a sunburned nose and a mattered grey beard.\n\n\"Don't be afraid, \"she said.\"I won't harm you.\"\n\nGreybeard shifted from behind the oak and took off his hat. His face was round and dotted with age spots but vigorous with a little wrinkled brow and a small chin. He had long grey hair at the nape of his neck which he had pulled back into a ponytail, but the crown of his head was bare, shiny and yellow like a pumpkin.\n\nShe noticed that he was looking at her sword, the hilt of which was protruding over her right shoulder.\n\n\"Don't be afraid, ' she repeated.\n\n\"Hey, hey!\" he said, mumbling a bit. \"Hey, hey, my lady. Gramps is not afraid. Not afraid, on no.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He smiled. His teeth were big and due to his receding lower jaw, his upper teeth stuck out of his mouth. Therefor his speech was hard to understand.\n\n\"Gramps is not afraid of strangers,\" he said. \"Even bandits. Gramps is poor and pitiful. Gramps is peaceful, no threat to anyone. Hey!\"\n\nHe smiled again. His smile seemed to be comprised of only his front teeth.\n\n\"And you my lady, are you afraid of Gramps?\"\n\nCiri snorted.\n\n\"I'm not afraid of you. '\n\n\"Hey, hey, hey! Whatever you say!\"\n\nHe stepped towards her, leaning on his cane. Kelpie snorted. Ciri pulled on the reins.\n\n\"She does not like strangers,\" Ciri warned. \"And she bites.\"\n\n\"Hey, hey. Gramps understands. Bad, rude pony! And out of curiosity, where is the lady going? Where is she heading?\"\n\n\"It's along story. Where does this path lead? '\n\n\"Hey, Hey! The young lady does not know this?\"\n\n\"Do not answer questions with questions, if you please. Where does the path lead> What is this place? And what is the date?\"\n\nThe old man grinned again, his teeth sticking out like a beavers.\n\n\"Hey, hey, I can see from these questions that my lady has come from faraway.\"\n\n\"Quite far,\" she said indifferently. \"From another...\"\n\n\"Time and place,\" he finished. \"Gramps knows. Gramps guessed.\"\n\n\"How have you guessed? What do you know?\" she asked excitedly.\n\n\"Gramps knows much.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Speak!\"\n\n\"Is my lady hungry? She said.\"Thirsty? Tired? Gramps will take you to his cottage, give you food and drink and let you rest. '\n\nCiri had not had time to think about food and rest. Now, the words of the strange old man, made her stomach rumble and her tongue stick to the roof of her mouth. The old man looked at her from under the brim of his straw hat.\n\n\"Gramps,\" he said, \"has food and spring water at his house. And hey for your mare, the mare that wants to bite Gramps. Hey, hey, at the house we can talk about places and times... It's not far. Will my lady accept the invitation? Will she enjoy Gramps refreshments? '\n\nCiri swallowed.\n\n\"Lead on,\"\n\nGramps turned and walked along the barely visible path, measuring the way with long strokes from his cane. Ciri followed him, bowing her head to keep the branches from pulling her from the saddle and keeping a firm hand on the reins to stop Kelpie from biting the old manor eating his straw hat.\n\nDespite his claims the cottage was not close at all. When they finally reached his place the sun was almost at it zenith.\n\nGramps's cottage proved to be a picturesque made of wood, with a roof which had been evidently repaired often using the first thing that had come to hand. The walls of the hut were covered with what looked like pigskins. In front of the cottage was a wooden structure in the shape of a gallows, a low table and a stump with an axe sticking out of it. In the cottage was an enclosed fireplace made of stone and clay, on which stood a smoking pot and pan." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Gramps's home, \"said the old man proudly,\"this is where I live. Here is where I sleep and cook food. Come have something to eat. Hey, hey, it is difficult to capture food in the forest. Does my ladylike the flavor of millet porridge? '\n\n\"I like it,\" Ciri swallowed again. \"I like it.\"\n\n\"With pork? With butter? And bacon?\"\n\n\"Mmmm.\"\n\n\"It is clear,\" the old man gave her a probing look, \"that you have not recently filled a plate full of pork and bacon. My lady is skinny. Skin and bones. Hey, hey. What is that back there?\"\n\nCiri looked back. She fell for the old and most primitive trick in the world.\n\nThe heavy blow from the cane hither directly in the head, her reflexes were just enough to raise her hand and cushion some of the blow which could have broken her skull like an egg. But Ciri found herself bewildered, stunned and complete disoriented.\n\nGramps showed his huge teeth then leapt at her and hither again with his gnarled stick. Ciri once again managed to protect her head with her upraised hands, but the result washer left hand falling limp, probably broken. Gramps jumped to her other side and swung, hitting her in the stomach. She screamed and curled into a ball. He threw himself on her like a hawk; he turned her face to the ground and crushed her knees. Ciri arched up and kicked back, hitting him a sharp blow to his elbow. Gramps roared furiously and slammed his fist onto the back of her head with such force that her face dug into the sand. He grabbed her by the hair on her neck and ground her nose and mouth into the sand. She felt suffocated." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The old man knelt on her, still pushing her head into the ground, pulled out her sword and tossed it to the side. He fumbling hand reach over her stomach and unlaced her pants. Ciri screamed and her mouth filled with more sand. The old man pushed harder, clutching her hair in his fist. With a strong tug her pulled down her pants.\n\n\"Hey, hey,\" the old man wheezed. \"Today Gramps caught a nice ass. It has been along time.\"\n\nCiri felt the touch of his dry hand and cried out again through her mouth full of sand and pine needles.\n\n\"Just be quiet and lay still, my lady,\" he drooled onto her buttocks. \"Gramps is no longer young, like he used to be... But no fear, the old man still knows what to do. Hey, hey, and then Gramps will eat you...\"\n\nHe did not finish the sentence, he grunted and roared.\n\nCiri felt his grip break, and broke away from him like a spring. Now she could see what had happened.\n\nKelpie had silently crept up from behind, grabbed Gramps in her teeth and literally lifted him off the ground. The old man yelled and thrashed about, kicking. Finally he managed to break free, but left a lot of his grey hair in the mare's teeth. He leaped for his gnarled stick but at the last moment Ciri kicked it out of his reach. The second kick she wanted to deal out was to where it was necessary, but her pants pulled down to her knees restricted her movements. She pulled them up and turned, but Gramps had utilized the lost time well. With several jumps he reached the stump and wrested the axe from it. He waved the axe, driving Kelpie back, then with a roar, he lunged at Ciri, raising the axe to strike." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Gramps is gonna bugger you wench!\" he howled wildly. \"Even if he has to hack you to pieces first. Gramps doesn't care if my lady is whole or filleted! '\n\nCiri thought that she could handle his easily. He was after all, a decrepit old man. She was mistaken.\n\nDespite his age and large sandals, he was as agile as a rabbit and leaped at her, brandishing the axe with the skill of a butcher. When the sharpened blade almost hither a few times, Ciri realized that the only way to save herself was to escape.\n\nBut she was save by coincidence. Stepping backwards she ran into her sword. She quickly picked it up.\n\n\"Throw down the axe,\" she yelled, pulling her sword with a hiss from its scabbard. \"Throw down your axe, you old shit, maybe I'll give you your life. '\n\nHe paused. Wheezing and puffing, he had saliva running from his mouth into his beard. But he did not throw down the axe. She saw in his eyes a murderous rage.\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"Then come at me.\"\n\nFora moment he looked at her as if not understanding, then he gnashed his teeth, roared and lunged at her. Ciri had had enough. She turned quickly and cutup from the bottom slicing his arms above the elbow. The old man dropped the axe and his bloody hands followed, he immediately jumped at her again. She jumped and slashed him across the neck. More out of pity than necessity, the open arteries in his arms would have bled out in a few moments.\n\nHe lay there, parting with life with incredible difficulty, without his severed limbs, he squirmed like a worm. Ciri stood over him. In her teeth, sand gritted. She spat it out on the dying old man. Before the saliva hit him, he died." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The strange construction in front of the cottage that resembled a scaffold was decorated with iron hooks and rigging." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The table and the stump were slippery, covered in grease and smelled. Like a slaughterhouse.\n\nIn the kitchen Ciri found millet porridge, full of pieces of meat and mushrooms. She was very hungry, but something stopped her from eating it. Instead she drank only a little water from a jug and at a small wrinkled apple.\n\nSome stairs descended deep into a cool cellar. The shelves were stored with earthenware pots and lard. Meat hung from the ceiling. Some remnants of a thing.\n\nShe ran from the cellar, as if chased by demons, She fell into the nettles and rose, staggering away from the cottage. Despite having an empty stomach, she vomited violently fora longtime.\n\nThe thigh hanging in the cellar belonged to a child.\n\nDriven by a stench, she found a pit whose bottom was half flooded with water were Gramps threw his garbage, everything that he did not eat. Looking at the skulls, ribs and pelvis rolling in the mud, Ciri realized with horror that she had survived only because of the old man's lust, he wanted to rape more than he wanted food. If his hunger at that moment had been stronger that his lustful appetites, he would have treacherously struck her with the axe and not the gnarled stick. He would have hung her by her feet on the wooden gallows, gutted her, pulled off her skin and chopped her upon the table...\n\nAlthough her legs were shaking with weakness and her left hand throbbed with pain, she dragged the body into the forest and plunged it into the stinking mud, between the bones of his victims. She returned to the cottage with branches and dried twigs and placed them around the four sides of the house. The carefully set fire to all four sides." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She left when the fire had flared up properly. When she felt the heat, heard the roar and when she was sure that a random shower would not prevent the razing of this place.\n\nHer hand was not so bad. It was swollen, yes, and it hurt, but there didn't seem to be any broken bones.\n\nWhen evening came, a single moon appeared in the sky. However Ciri did not want to accept this world as her own.\n\nOr stay in any longer than necessary.\n\n\"Tonight,\" Nimue whispered, \"will be a goodnight. I can feel it.\"\n\nCondwiramurs sighed.\n\nThe horizon burned in gold and purple. Abeam of the same colors settled on the lake.\n\nThey were sitting on the terrace in chairs, behind them was a mirror in an ebony frame and a tapestry depicting a small castle clinging to a rocky wall which was reflected in the water of a mountain lake.\n\nHow many evenings, Condwiramurs thought, will we sit up in the falling twilight and the darkness? Without any results? Just talking?\n\nIt got colder. The sorceress and the adept were wrapped in furs. From the lake came the creak of oars from the boat of the Fisher King, but they could not see it as it was hidden by the blinding glow of sunset.\n\n\"Quite often I dream,\" Condwiramurs said, \"I'm in an icy wasteland, where there is nothing but piled of white snow and the sun sparkling on ice. And there is silence, silence calling in my ears. Unnatural silence. The silence of death. '\n\nNimue nodded, as if she knew what this meant. But she said nothing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Suddenly, it seems that I can hear something,\" continued the adept. 'I can feel the surface of the ice tremble under my feet. I kneel down in the snow. The ice is clear as glass, it is from a mountain lake, stones and fish can be seen through the thick pane. In my dream, I can also\n\nsee that, the layer of ice is dozens or perhaps hundreds of inches thick. This does not prevent me from hearing... people screaming for help. Below the ice... there is a frozen world. '\n\nNimue remained silent.\n\n\"Of course, I know,\" said the adept, \"the dream is born from Ithlinne's Prophecy, the famous White Winter, the Time of the White Frost, the time of the Wolf Blizzard. The world has perished under snow and ice that is the forecast of re-birth. Pure and better. '\n\n\"I deeply believe that,\" Nimue said softly, \"it will regenerate the world. But not that it would be better.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"You heard me.\"\n\n\"I did not mishear? Nimue, the Time of the White frost has been predicted many times, every cold winter; people believe that it is beginning. But today not even children believe that some long winter will destroy the world.\"\n\n\"So you can see, children do not believe, but I do.\"\n\n\"do you have some rational reasons,\" Condwiramurs said with slight irony, \"or is it a mystical belief in the infallibility of elven prophecies?\"\n\nNimue's fingers twitched among the fur in which she was shrouded.\n\n\"Our world,\" she began in her mentoring tone, \"has the shape of a sphere and revolves around the sun. Do you agree or do you belong to one of those tiny sects that believe the opposite?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No, I'm not one of them. I accept the heliocentric doctrine and believe that the earth is round. '\n\n\"Good. Then you know that the earth's axis is tilted and the track the earth takes around the sun is not circular, but elliptical? '\n\n\"I've learned about it. But I am not an astronomer, so... '\n\n\"There is no need to bean astronomer, just think logically. The earth moves around the sun in an elliptical shaped orbit and so during its movements it is sometimes closer and sometimes further away. The further the earth is from the sun, it is logical to think that the colder it will be. And thanks to the planetary axis the northern hemisphere is further from the light.\"\n\n\"This is logical.\"\n\n\"Both aspects– the ellipse of the orbit and the inclination of the axis are subject to change. Believed to be cyclic. The ellipse can be more or less elliptical, elongated or shallower, the axis also experiences changes. Due to the distance from the Sun and the large tilt of the earth's axis, the polar regions receive very little light and heat. '\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\n\"Less light in the northern hemisphere means more residual snow. The white glistening snow reflects sunlight so the temperature drops even more. The snow remains even longer, the larger tracts do not melt, or only briefly. The more snow, the more residual, the more white and shiny reflective surface...\"\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\n\"The snowfalls and falls and there becomes more and more of it. Note that, the sea currents migrate from the south of the warm air. Humidity condenses over the cold areas and causes further snow to fall. The greater the temperature differences, the more abundant the snowfall. It gets colder.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Carry on with the narrative as the plot partner.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 8" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No, I'm not one of them. I accept the heliocentric doctrine and believe that the earth is round. '\n\n\"Good. Then you know that the earth's axis is tilted and the track the earth takes around the sun is not circular, but elliptical? '\n\n\"I've learned about it. But I am not an astronomer, so... '\n\n\"There is no need to bean astronomer, just think logically. The earth moves around the sun in an elliptical shaped orbit and so during its movements it is sometimes closer and sometimes further away. The further the earth is from the sun, it is logical to think that the colder it will be. And thanks to the planetary axis the northern hemisphere is further from the light.\"\n\n\"This is logical.\"\n\n\"Both aspects– the ellipse of the orbit and the inclination of the axis are subject to change. Believed to be cyclic. The ellipse can be more or less elliptical, elongated or shallower, the axis also experiences changes. Due to the distance from the Sun and the large tilt of the earth's axis, the polar regions receive very little light and heat. '\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\n\"Less light in the northern hemisphere means more residual snow. The white glistening snow reflects sunlight so the temperature drops even more. The snow remains even longer, the larger tracts do not melt, or only briefly. The more snow, the more residual, the more white and shiny reflective surface...\"\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\n\"The snowfalls and falls and there becomes more and more of it. Note that, the sea currents migrate from the south of the warm air. Humidity condenses over the cold areas and causes further snow to fall. The greater the temperature differences, the more abundant the snowfall. It gets colder.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I understand.\"\n\n\"The snow becomes so heavy the ice becomes pressed and forms a glacier. On which, as we know, the snow keeps falling, squeezing it even more, the glacier grows, not only increasingly thick but covering more space. White spaces...\"\n\n\"That reflects the sunlight,\" Condwiramurs nodded. \"Getting colder and colder still. The White Light that Ithlinne prophesied. But can this really lead to a cataclysm? Can the ice that likes to the north suddenly start moving south, crushing and covering everything? How quickly can the ice at the poles grow? How many inches a year?\"\n\n\"As you probably know,\" Nimue said staring at the lake, \"the only port that does not freeze is the Gulf of Praxeda in Pont Vanis.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"Enrich your knowledge. You know that a hundred years ago, all the major ports in the Gulf were open water throughout the year. In the Chronicles it is recorded that even in the last century that Talgar could still grow cucumbers and pumpkins and sunflowers. Now those crops won't grow there, because the growing season is too short and the winter is too rigid. Did you ever hear that Kaedwen had its own vineyard? Wines from the local vines were probably not the best, but they were cheap. And the local poets sang of them. Those vines no longer grow in Kaedwen because the winters, unlike the old, bring severe frosts and heavy snows that kill the vines. Not only inhibits the vegetation, but simply kills it. Destroys it. '\n\n\"I understand.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" reflected Nimue. \"Shall I tell you more? Perhaps of the snowfalls in Talgar in mid-November. And at the end of December and January, there is snow in the catchment area of Alba, where even a hundred years ago nobody had seen snow. Why at Birke do we celebrate the welcoming of spring, what do you think?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"It's the spring equinox." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But it is true that the little children wonder, because outside there is still snow on the ground. At the same time I have read that in ancient times that during Birke daffodils and crocuses had already bloomed. '\n\n\"You mean the ancient times, not more than a hundred and twenty years ago. Historically it has been recently. Ithlinne was right, the prophecy is fulfilling. The world is perishing under the ice. Mankind will perish because of the Destroyer, who was to open the way to salvation. As we know from legend, he did not.\"\n\n\"For reasons that are not explained in the legend.\"\n\n\"That is true. However, the fact remains, the White Frost is coming. The civilizations of the northern hemisphere are doomed. They will disappear under the sprawling ice, under permafrost and snow. But there is no need to panic, because it will take sometime before it happens.\"\n\nThe Sun went down and the blinding brilliance from the surface of the lake disappeared. Now a softer beam of light fell on the water. The moon bathed the tower of Inis Vitre in a bright glow.\n\n\"How long?\" said Condwiramurs. \"How long do we have left, do you think?\"\n\n\"A lot.\"\n\n\"How much, Nimue?\"\n\n\"About three thousand years.\"\n\nSomewhere on the lake, the Fisher King struck himself with the oar and cursed loudly. Nimue shook her head. Condwiramurs sighed.\n\n\"I've calmed down a bit. But only a little. '\n\nThe next place was one of the most horrible that Ciri had seen, it certainly placed in the top ten, and maybe even ahead of them. It was a port, she saw boats and galleys with springs and lines, she saw a forest of masts and saw sails hanging heavy in the still air. Around her twisted columns of smoke, smelly smoke." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The smoke rose from crooked huts also standing along the port." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In them she heard voices, the sound of crying children.\n\nKelpie jumped, pulling hard on the reins and hitting her hooves hard on the cobblestones. Ciri looked down and saw dead rats. They were everywhere, some of the rodents were dead, other writhing in pain, with pale pink legs.\n\nSomething is not right, she thought, suddenly feeling panic. Flee, runaway from here as quickly as possible.\n\nNext to a pole where fishing nets hung a man was sitting on the ground. His shirt was torn across the chest, his head was laying on his shoulder. He did not look like he was sleeping. A few steps further on lay more people. They did not move when Kelpie's horseshoes tinkled on the pavement right next to their heads. Ciri bent so that she could pass underclothes hanging on a clothesline. They reeked of the staleness of dirt.\n\nAt the door to one of the huts was across painted with lime or white paint. Behind its roof, black smoke rode into the blue sky. A child was crying, someone shouted in the distance, someone closer was coughing and snorting. A dog howled.\n\nCiri's hands felt itchy. She looked down.\n\nHer hands were covered in black fleas.\n\nShe screamed aloud. Trembling with fear and disgust, she became to violently wave her arms. She startled Kelpie, who took off at a gallop, Ciri nearly fell off. Clutching the side of the mare with her thighs she combed her fingers through her hair, ruffling it. She tore at her jacket and shirt. Kelpie continued to gallop through the smoke that blew across the street. Ciri screamed in horror.\n\nShe was going through hell, the inferno, the most terrible of nightmares. Among the houses marked with white crosses. Among smoldering rags. Among the dead lying alone and those who were lying in piles, one on the other. And among the living, ragged, half-naked ghouls with sunken cheeks, crawling through the muck, screaming in a language she did not understand, stretching out their emaciated arms, covered in horrible bloody pustules..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Run! Runaway from here!\n\nEven in the black nothingness of nonexistence of the archipelago of places, Ciri smelt fora longtime in her nostrils the smoke and the stench.\n\nThe next place was also a port. But here I was spring and it had a channel, and in the channel were boats, scooters, yachts and a forest of masts. But in this place of masts, there were screaming gulls and it smelled of joyous normal home– wet wood, seawater and fish.\n\nOn the deck of a boat, two men were fighting, screaming with excited voices.\n\nShe understood everything that they were saying.\n\nThey were arguing over the price of herring.\n\nNot faraway stood a tavern, and from its doors came the musty smell of beer and loud voices, laughter and the clinking of glasses. Someone was singing aloud obscene song.\n\nLuned, c'ard t'elaine arse\n\nAen a meáth ail aén sparse!\n\nShe knew where she was. Before she read the name on the stern of one of the galleys– Evall Muire. And it port of origin– Baccala. She knew where she was.\n\nIn Nilfgaard.\n\nShe fled before anyone paid her any attention.\n\nHowever, before she was immersed into nothingness, a flea, which had jumped on her shirt at the last place and followed her through space and time, jumped from her shirt onto the pier.\n\nThe flea settled onto the bare skin of a rat, an old male mousy veteran of many wars, which was testified by his torn ear. That evening the rat and flea boarded a vessel. And the next morning they sailed the high seas. The ship they boarded was old and dirty and bore the name'Catriona\". That name would go down in history. But nobody knew anything about that yet." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The next place, though she could hardly believe it, surprised her with a truly idyllic image. It was a quiet riverside, with a lazy stream flowing among the willows, alders and oaks which leant over the water. Next to abridge with a delicate stone arch linking the two shores stood a wild vine covered inn.\n\nAbove the door swung a sign with large gold letter, which Ciri did not know how to read. However, because of the inscription of a shield also nicely illustrated with a black cat on it, Ciri decided to call the tavern'The Black Cat\".\n\nFlowing from the tavern was the smell of food. Ciri almost fell into a swoon. It didn't take her long to decide. She adjusted the sword on her back and stepped inside.\n\nThe taproom was empty, only one table sat three men, who at first glance appeared to be villagers. They did not even look at Ciri who out of habit satin a corner with her back to the wall.\n\nThe landlady, a stout woman with a spotless apron and a cap, came up to her and asked something. Her voice was thunderous but melodious. Ciri poked one finger towards her mouth and patted her stomach, then took a silver button from her blouse and laid it on the table. Seeing the surprised expression on the woman's face she was about to pluck a second button, but the woman stopped her with a gesture.\n\nThe silver button provided her with a heavy casserole and vegetable soup, a pot of timber beans and smoked meat, bread and a jug of watered wine.\n\nFrom the first tablespoon, Ciri thought she was going to cry. But she controlled herself. She ate slowly. Relishing it all.\n\nThe landlady came over and asked her a ringing question, and put her hands to her cheek. She wanted to know if she was staying the night." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I don't know, \"said Ciri.\"Maybe. In any case, that you for the invitation. '\n\nThe woman smiled and walked into the kitchen.\n\nCiri undid her belt and leaned back against the wall. She wondered what to do next. This place, in contrast to some previous ones, was pleasant and she was tempted to stay longer. However, experience had taught her that excessive confidence can be dangerous and alack of vigilance can be fatal.\n\nFrom out of nowhere a black cat appeared, exactly the same as the one on the signboard. It arched its back and rubbed itself on her calf. She stroked the cat and he pushed his head into her palm, then settled down beside her and began to lick his fur. Ciri watched.\n\nShe saw Jarre sitting next to afire in a circle with ugly rogues. They all nibbled at something that resembled apiece of coal.\n\n\"Jarre?\"\n\n\"It has to be this way,\" said the boy while watching the dancing flames. \"I read about it in the History of War, Marshal Pelligram's work. So it is necessary when the country is in danger. '\n\n\"What is necessary? Eating coal?\"\n\n\"Yes. Exactly so. The motherland calls. And partly for personal reasons.\"\n\n\"Ciri, do not fall asleep in the saddle,\" Yennefer said. \"We have arrived.\"\n\nThey had arrived at a city, where the doors and gates of the houses had painted white crosses on the. They rode into a dense, suffocation smoke, coming from the bodies of the dead who were being burned. Yennefer didn't seem to notice.\n\n\"I have to beautify.\"\n\nBefore her face, above the ears of her horse appeared mirror. It danced in the air and along with a brush that combed her raven tresses. Yennefer only uses magic, and not her hands, because..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her hands were covered in masses of clotted blood.\n\n\"Mother! What did they do?\"\n\n\"Get up, girl,\" Coën says. \"Master the pain, getup again on the comb. Otherwise you'll catch fear. Do you want to be afraid the rest of your life? '\n\nHis yellow eyes shine in an unpleasant manner. His sharp, white teeth flash. Then it's not Coën. It is a cat, a black cat...\n\nA column of an army, many miles long, marches above them wave a forest of spears and banners. Jarre has around helmet on his head and a pike on his shoulder, which he has to hold with both hands otherwise the weight would unbalance him. Drums and bagpipes echo, and thunder the songs of war. Above the column crows fly. Many crows...\n\nA lake shore, afield of reeds. An island on the lake. On the island a tower with jagged battlements. Above the tower, in the darkening evening sky, the moonshines, and makes the tower glow. On the balcony is sitting two women wrapped in furs. A man fishes on a boat...\n\nA tapestry and a mirror.\n\nCir lifted her head with a jerk. In front of her sitting at the table is Eredin Bréacc Glas.\n\n\"You should know,\" he said, grinning with his even teeth, \"that you are only delaying the inevitable. You belong to us and we'll find you. '\n\n\"Never.\"\n\n\"You will comeback to us. You have seen a couple of times and places, but sooner or later you'll get to the Spiral. And the Spiral is ours. You will never get back to your world and time. After all, it is already too late, you have nothing to return to. The people that you knew are long dead, their graves overgrown with grass and their names forgotten. Your name too... '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You're lying!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I do not believe you! '\n\n\"You belief is you thing. But know that soon you will come to the Spiral and I'll be there waiting. Admit that you secretly long for me, me elaine luned. '\n\n\"You are delusional!\"\n\n\"We, Aen Elle, perceive such things. You were fascinated with me, and you were afraid of your desires. You still want me, Zireael. My hands, their touch...\"\n\nHe jumped to her feet, overturning her cup, fortunately empty and grabbed her sword. She immediately calmed down. She was in the'Black Cat\" inn. She had fallen asleep at the table. The hand that had touched her hair, was the landlady's. Ciri was not fond of this kind of contact, but the woman simply radiated kindness, for which Ciri could not repay with rudeness. She allowed her to stroke her head, with a smile and listened to her melodious speech. She was tired.\n\n\"I have to go,\" she said at last.\n\nThe woman smiled and spoke in her singsong voice.\n\nHow is it possible, thought Ciri, in all the worlds, places and times, in all languages and dialects, this word is always understandable? And always the same?\n\n\"Yes, I have to. My mother is waiting for me.\"\n\nThe landlady escorted her into the yard. Before Ciri could jump into the saddle, she suddenly hugged her tightly pressing her into her plump breasts.\n\n\"Goodbye. Thank you for your hospitality. Forward, Kelpie.\"\n\nShe went straight over the arched bridge over the calm river. When the mare's horseshoes rang on the stones, he looked up. The woman was still standing at the front of the inn." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Concentration, fists on her temples. A noise in her ears like the sound of a seashell. A flash. Soft black nothingness.\n\n\"Good luck, my girl,\" There's Lapin, owner of the pub Au Chat Noir in Pont-sur-Yonne on the road from Melun to Auxerre.\n\n\"Godspeed!\"\n\nConcentration, fist on her temples. A noise in her ears like the sound of a seashell. A flash. Soft, black nothingness.\n\nPlaces. A lake. An island. The moon like a half thaler, it's brilliance glowing over the water of a lake. The mast of a boat with a man fishing...\n\nOn the terrace of the tower... Two women?\n\nCondwiramurs could not stand it, she shouted with excitement and then immediately covered her mouth with her hand. The Fisher King dropped his nets with a splash and the swore terribly then with his mouth open he froze. Nimue did not move.\n\nOn the surface of the lake, on a ray of moonlight Appeared a black horse with a rider on her back.\n\nMinue calmly reached out and shouted a spell. The tapestry on the wall in the room bust into multicolored lights. The lights reflected in the oval mirror, danced on the walls like colored bees and then sailed out of the room like a rainbow, as light as a ribbon that lit up the lake like the first rays of dawn.\n\nThe black mare lifted her head and whinnied loudly. Nimue abruptly extended her hands and shouted another spell. Condwiramurs saw an image forming in the air, growing more tightly focused. The image immediately popped into focus. Then became a portal. Agate, beyond which they could see...\n\nA plain full of shipwrecks. A castle stuck on a sharp cliff, lording over the dark mirror of a mountain lake..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Over there!\" Nimue shouted loudly. \"This is the path that you must follow! Ciri, Pavetta's daughter! Enter the portal, follow the path that leads to your meeting with fate! That closes the wheel of time! Let Uroboros bit his own tail. Do not wander anymore! Hurry to help your loved ones! This is the right way to go, witcheress! '\n\nThe mare snickered and buried her hooves in the air. The girl in the saddle, turned her head, looking alternatively at them and the image produced by the tapestry and mirror. She tossed her hair from her face, on which Condwiramurs saw the scar.\n\n\"Believe me, Ciri,\" cried Nimue. \"You know me! We've seen each other once already! '\n\n\"I remember,\" they heard her answer. \"I believe you. Thank you.\"\n\nThey watched her spur the mare towards the portal. Before the image faded, the ashen haired girl turned in the saddle and waved.\n\nThen everything disappeared. The lake was calm, the bar of moonlight settled. It was so quiet, they thought they could hear the loud breathing of the Fisher King.\n\nNimue refrained from tears and tightly embraced Condwiramurs. She like a little trembling fairy. They remained in the embrace for sometime. Without words they both turned and looked at the place where the Gate of Worlds had disappeared.\n\n\"Godspeed, witcheress!\" they cried in unison. \"Good luck on your journey!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Not far from the battlefield, where that terrible battle between almost the entire North was facing almost all of the aggressor Nilfgaard's power, there were two fishermen villages– Old Butts and Brenna. However, since Brenna was burned to the ground, people used to talk about the'Battle of Old Butts\". Today, however, it is referred to as the'Battle of Brenna\" for two reasons– First, Brenna is now restored and is now a prosperous settlement, while Old Butts was abandoned by its inhabitants along time ago and is now overgrown with nettles and weeds. Secondly– the original name in the context of that grand and tragic struggle seemed extremely awkward, as if it were not enough that roughly thirty thousand unfortunates gave their lives but with their butts, that were old.\n\nSo, in historical literature the military has taken to calling it the'Battle of Brenna\" and not just in our writings but in Nilfgaard's who have many more sources than ours.\n\nReverend Jarre the Elder of Ellander\n\nAnnales seu Cronicae Incliti Regni Temeriae\n\n\"Cadet Fitz-Oesterlen, you've fail. Sit down. I would like to draw your attention to this cadet's ignorance of important and famous events from the history of his native country that every good citizen and patriot should know, but fora future office is simply inexcusable. And one more thing, cadet. For twenty years I have worked at this school and I do not remember even a single semester when an exam hasn't had a question about the Battle of Brenna. Your ignorance practically eliminates your chances fora military career, but when you become a baron, there is no obligation to become an officer, so maybe you can try your hand at politics. Or diplomacy. I wish this wholeheartedly, Cadet Fitz-Oesterlen. The rest of us will get back to the Battle of Brenna, gentlemen. Cadet Puttkammer! '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Present!\"\n\n\"To the map, please and continue. From where the lord Baron's knowledge failed. '\n\n\"As ordered! When Field Marshal Menno Coehoorn heard the reports from the secret service confirming that the Nordlings\" armies were coming to aid the besieged fortress of Mayena, he decided to make a quick march to the west. His plan was to cutoff the enemy troops and to force them into a decisive battle. For this purpose he distributed the Center Group Army. Some of his forces he left at Mayena, the rest of his forces rapid marched... '\n\n\"Cadet Puttkammer! Are you a writer of historical fiction or a future military commander? What is the name for'the rest of his forces\"? Please give me the exact battle orders of Marshal Coehoorn's strike team. Using military terminology! '\n\n\"Yes, commander. Field Marshal Coehoorn had at that time, two armies– the Fourth Cavalry Army, led by Major General Marcus Braibant, patron of our school...\"\n\n\"Very good, Cadet Puttkammer.\"\n\n\"Fucking toady,\" Cadet Fitz-Oesterlen hissed from his bench.\n\n\"... And the Third Army, commanded by Lieutenant General Rhetz de Mellis-Stoke. The Fourth Cavalry Army, with a strength of twenty thousand soldiers was comprised of the following units– the Venendal Division, the Magne Division, the Frundsberg Division, the Second Vicovaro Brigade, the Seventh Daerlan Brigade, the Nauzicaa Division and the Vrihedd Brigade. The Third Army was composed of the Alba Division, the Deithwen Division and... umm. The Division...\"\n\n\"The Ard Feainn Division,\" said Julia Abatemarco. \"If your men didn't mistake anything. They really had banners with silver suns on them? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes, Colonel,\" said the commander of the scouts, without hesitation.\n\n\"So, Ard Feainn,\" mused Pretty Kitty. \"That's interesting. This means that in the three marching columns that you saw, not only is the Fourth Army coming against us, but most of the Third as well. I do not believe it; I have to see it with my own eyes. Captain, takeover command during my absence. Send out immediately a transmission to Colonel Pangratt... '\n\n\"Colonel Abatemarco, is it reasonable for you to personally...\"\n\n\"That's an order! '\n\n\"As you command!\"\n\n\"This is a gamble, Colonel,\" the commander of the scouts shouted over the thunder of hooves. \"We could run into a company of elven scouts.\"\n\n\"Don't talk! Lead! '\n\nThey galloped through a valley, pasta stream and then turned into some woods. They had to slowdown as their riding was hindered by the undergrowth; also there was the threat of running into one of the Nilfgaardian reconnaissance patrols. Even though the condottieri scout approached from the flank of the enemy, not from the front, there was still a good chance the flank was protected. The actions they took were risky as hell. But Pretty Kitty was known for such frivolous things. And there was not in the whole of the Free Company any soldier who wouldn't have followed her– even to hell.\n\n\"It's here, \"said the commander of the scouts.\"This is the tower. '\n\nJulia Abatemarco shook her head. The tower was twisted, ruined, bristling with broken beams and a patchwork of holes that the west wind blew through whistling like a bagpipe. No one had any idea who or why the tower had been builtin this secluded spot. But it was known that it had been built along time ago." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It will not collapse?\"\n\n\"Certainly not, Colonel.\"\n\nAmong the Free Company, the condottieri did not use \"sir\" or \"ma'am'. Only rank.\n\nJulia swiftly climbed to the top of the tower. The commander of the scouts joined her after sometime, panting like a bull covering a cow. Pretty Kitty stood on the tilted battlements and watched the horizon through a spyglass, while putting her tongue between her teeth and sticking out her bottom. At the sight, the commander of the scouts felt a slight thrill. However, for his own safety, he quickly mastered it.\n\n\"On my soul, Ard Feainn,\" Julia Abatemarco licked her lips. \"I can seethe Seventh Daerlan, the elves of the Vrihedd Brigade our friends from Maribor and Mayena... Aha! There are also the skullheads, the famous Nauzicaa Brigade... I can also seethe flames of the armored Deithwen Division... And the white banner with the black Alerion of the Alba Division.\"\n\n\"You recognized them,\" muttered the commander, \"like old acquaintances... How do you know them?\"\n\n\"I graduated from the military academy,\" said Pretty Kitty carelessly, as if it was nothing. \"I am a career officer. Well, I saw what I wanted to see. Let's go back to the banner. '\n\n\"He has brought against us the Fourth Cavalry Army and the Third,\" Julia Abatemarco said. \"I repeat, the whole of the Fourth Cavalry and the Third Army. Behind the vanguard I sawdust clouds reaching up to the sky. In those three columns, I estimate about forty thousand horses, maybe more. Maybe...\"\n\n\"Maybe Coehoorn divided his Center Group Army,\" finished Adam'Adieu\" Pangratt, chosen to be the supreme commander of the Free Company. \"Maybe he took only his Fourth Cavalry and the horses from the Third and no infantry so he could proceed as quickly as possible... Ha, you know what I'd do if I were coming up against King Foltest's constable Natalis...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I know,\" Pretty Kitty's eyes flashed with amusement.\"I know what you'd do, you'd send runners. '\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Natalis is a cunning fox. Maybe tomorrow...\"\n\n\"Maybe,\" Adieu said again. \"I guess he thinks like me. Come with me, Julia, I want to show you something.\"\n\nThey moved ahead of the rest of the army. The sun was almost touching the hills to the west, the forest and grassland darkened and the valley was filled with along shadow.\n\nHowever, it was still light enough for Pretty Kitty to immediately notice what Pangratt wanted to show her.\n\n\"Here,\" Adieu said, confirming her guess. \"If I was the commander of our forces, this is where I would pose the battle tomorrow.\"\n\n\"It is good terrain,\" Julia admitted. \"Hard, straight and plain... We could marshal the forces there... on those plains. And that hill is an idea command post.\"\n\n\"You're right. Look right in the middle of the valley, there is a lake and we can use that tactically as well, with the river, although they are shallow, they have marshy shores... What was the river called, Julia? The one we passed through yesterday. Do you remember? '\n\n\"I forgot. The Scoop, I guess. Or something like that.\"\n\n\"Those who are familiar with the local surroundings can easily imagine the situation better than someone who has to rely solely on cartography to find the settlement of Brenna. It was to this settlement that the royal army arrived, in truth there was no settlement because during a battle the year before, Elven commandos burned it to the ground. It was thereon the left flank that the Redanian contingent, commanded by Count de Ruyter took a position. He had eight thousand men, infantry and cavalry." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The center of the army was located under the hill, which was later called Gallows Hill." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On this high ground stood King Foltest's constable, John Natalis which gave him a perfect view of the battlefield. Below him were grouped the main strength of our troops– twelve thousand Temerian and Redanian infantry formed into foursquare units, beyond which were arrayed ten banners of heavy cavalry. In reserve were three thousand Maribor infantry under the command of Voivode Bronibor.\n\nFrom the southern shore of the lake, which the local residence called Gold, which meandered down to the Cholta, were deployed the units of our right flank– The Volunteer Army of Mahakam dwarves, eight squadrons of light cavalry and factions of the great condottieri, the Free Company. The right flank was under the command of Adam Pangratt and the dwarf Barclay Els.\n\nAt a distance of nearly two miles across from the royal army, the army of Nilfgaard was mobilized under the command of Field Marshal Menno Coehoorn. It's armed populous stood like an iron wall, regiment after regiment, company after company, squadron after squadron, as far as the eye could see. And through the forest of banners and halberds you could see that their position was not only wide, but also deep.\n\nTheir army was about forty-six thousand strong at that time, however, only a few people knew this. Which was fortunate, because the determination of many of our soldiers did not waver at the sight of the immense power of Nilfgaard.\n\nBut even the most bold of heart had theirs pounding faster under their armor, because it was obvious that a difficult and bloody battle was about to begin here soon and that many of those lined up here would not seethe sunset.\"\n\nJarre pushed up his glasses, which had slipped down onto his nose, and re-read through the entire piece of text again, sighed, rubbed his bald head and erased the last sentence." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The wind whispered through the linden trees and bees buzzed. Children, as children do, tried to outshout one another.\n\nA ball bounced off of a wall and stooped at the feet of the old man. Before he could awkwardly reach down, one of his grandsons passed him and grabbed the ball while running. Ashe passed he banged the table. Jarre, with his right hand, saved the inkwell from falling, and with the stump of his left handheld the ream of paper.\n\nBees, yellow and heavy with pollen from the linden trees, buzzed loudly overhead.\n\nJarre resumed writing.\n\n\"The morning was cloudy, but the sun pierced the clouds to explicitly remind us of the passing hours. The wind picked up, the flags and banners fluttered like a flock of birds rising to depart. Before us the Nilfgaardians were still, and all began to wonder why Field Marshal Menno Coehoorn did not give the order to attack...\"\n\n\"When?\" Menno Coehoorn looked up from his map and planted his eyes on his commanders. \"You want to know when I'll give the order to attack? '\n\nNo one answered. Menno watched his officers. Those who seemed the most tense and nervous where those who had to stay in the reserve. Elan Trahe, commander of the Seventh Daerlan and Kees van Lo of the Nauzicca brigade. Clearly nervous too was Ouder de Wyngalt, the aide-de-camp of Field Marshal Coehoorn, who had not even come close to a battlefield.\n\nBut those who personally commanded battle actions looked calm, even bored. Marcus Braibant yawned, Rhetz de Mellis-Stoke was picking at his ear with his little finger, Colonel Ramon Tyrconnel, the young commander of the Ard Feainn division softly whistled while his eyes wandered over the distant horizon. Another of the promising young officers, Colonel Liam aep Muir Moss of the Deithwen division flicked through a pocket volume of his favorite verses. The commander of the Alba division of Lancers, Tibor Eggebracht was scratching at his collar with the handle of a riding whip like a coachman." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The attack will start,\" Coehoorn said, \"when the reconnaissance patrols return. I'm worried about the hills to the north. Before we strike, gentlemen, I must know who or what is behind them. '\n\nLamarr Flaut was terribly afraid. Fear gripped his bowels, and it seemed to him that his intestines where coat with slimy eels that were doggedly searching fora way to get to freedom. An hour earlier, the patrol had received orders which had been put into motion. Flaut, in the depth of his mind, was hoping that the fear would be drowned out by the cold morning and routine, a ritual that he had exercised a hundred times, harsh, serve and military ceremonial. He was wrong. Now, after an hour and travelling about five miles, deep into the dangerous enemy territory, the fear still gnawed at him.\n\nThe patrol stopped on the hillside below the fir forest. The riders were carefully concealed in a growth of tall junipers. Before them stretched a wide valley. Fog spun around the top of the grass.\n\n\"Nobody,\" said Flaut. \"Not a soul. Let's go back. We've travelled too far.\"\n\nThe sergeant looked at him in askance. Far? They had barely gone a few miles and moved like lame turtles.\n\n\"We should,\" he said, \"go out thereto the opposite hill, Lieutenant. We will have a better view. Especially of both valleys. From there we can see if anyone is in the other valley. What do you think, sir? It is only a few yards.\"\n\nA few yards, Flaut thought. In open terrain, which is as flat as a pan. The eels writhed and sought away out of his guts. Flaut felt that at least one of them was on the right track." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I heard the jingle of spurs. A horse snorting. There, among those pines, on that sandy slope. Is something moving there? A silhouette? Are we being surrounded?\n\nA rumor ran through the camp a few days ago that the condottieri Free Company had caught in an ambush a party from the Vrihedd brigade and managed to capture an elf alive. It was said that he had been castrated; his tongue had been torn out, all of his fingers cutoff of his hand... And finally they putout his eyes.\n\nThen they joked, saying he would not be able to have fun with his elven whores. And he wouldn't be able to watch others having fun.\n\n\"Well, sir?\" the sergeant spoke hoarsely. \"Do we approach the hill?\"\n\nLamarr Flaut swallowed.\n\n\"No,\" he said. \"Let's not waste time. We have found nothing; there are no enemies here. We have to go back and give our report to the commander. Let's go back!\"\n\nMenno Coehoorn listened to the report and raised his head from the map.\n\n\"To the banners,\" he ordered shortly. \"Mister Braibant, Mister Mellis-Stoke. Attack!\"\n\n\"Long live the Emperor!\" yelled Tyrconnel and Eggebracht. Menno looked at the strangely.\n\n\"To the banners,\" he repeated. \"May the Great Sunshine on your glory.\"\n\nMilo Vanderbeck, a Halfling and afield surgeon who was better known by his nickname, Rusty, sucked through his nostrils the familiar mix of smells of iodine, ammonia, alcohol and magical elixirs that floated around the tent. He wanted to savor the fragrance of this now, while it was still healthy, pure and clinically sterile. He knew that it would not stay this way for long." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He looked at the operation table, still as white as driven snow and his instruments, the dozens of tools engendered respect and trust with the impassive and menacing dignity of it's cold steel, pristine cleanliness, order placement and aesthetics.\n\nGathered around the instruments was his bustling staff– three women. No, Rusty mental corrected himself. A woman and two girls. No. One old, yet beautiful and young-looking woman. And two children.\n\nThe sorceress and healer named Marti Södergren. And two volunteers. Shani, a student from Oxenfurt. And Iola, a priestess from the Temple of Melitele in Ellander.\n\nMarti Södergren I know, Rusty thought, I've already worked with this beauty, more than once. A little nymphomaniac, she also has a tendency towards hysteria, but so long as she works her magic. Her spells for anesthetics, disinfectants and to stop hemorrhages.\n\nIola, is a priestess, or rather an adept. A girl of ordinary beauty like a linen cloth and big, strong peasant hands. The temple prevented her hands from being stained with dirt in a silt field. But she could not disguise her origin. No, Rusty thought, in principle, I have nothing to fear from her. These hands are peasant hands, trustworthy hands. In addition, the girls at the temple rarely fail, and in moments of stress do not crack, but look back on their religion, in their mystical faith. Interestingly; it helps.\n\nHe looked at the red-haired Shani, deftly threading curved suture needles.\n\nShani. A child from the meager neighborhood that received her education at the University due to her infinite desire for knowledge and unimaginable sacrifice of poor parents. A student. What can she do? Threading needles? Tightening a tourniquet? Holding hooks? The question is whether the red-head will faint, drop the hooks and go nose first into the open abdomen of the patient being operated on?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Humans are not very resilient, he thought." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I asked them to give mean elf. Or someone of my own race. But they did not. They do not trust us. Or me, anyway. I'm a halfling. Not human. Alien.\n\n\"Shani!\"\n\n\"Yes, Mister Vanderbeck?\"\n\n\"Rusty. That is, for you'Mister Rusty\". What is this, Shani? What is it for?\"\n\n\"Are you examining me, Mister Rusty?\"\n\n\"Answer, girl!\"\n\n\"This is a scraper! To remove the periosteum during an amputation! In order for the periosteum not to burst under the serrated blade, you must saw cleanly! Are you satisfied? Have I gained your approval?\"\n\n\"Quiet, girl, quiet.\"\n\nHe ran his fingers through his hair.\n\nInteresting, He thought. Here we have four doctors. And all are redheads! Is this fate or what?\n\n\"Please come out, ladies,\" he nodded to his assistants, \"before the tent.\"\n\nThe obeyed. But each of the three muttered under their breath. Each in their own way.\n\nBefore the tent sat a group of medics, enjoying the last minutes of sweat idleness. Rusty gave them astern look, and sniffed to see if they were already drunk.\n\nThe blacksmith, a muscular fellow, was busy rearranging tools on his bench that would be used to rescue the wounded from warped armor and helmets.\n\n\"There,\" Rusty began without preamble, pointing towards the battlefield, \"will soon begin a bloodbath. And right afterwards we will get our first wounded. You all know what to do, where your position is and what your responsibilities are. If you behave accordingly, you can no go wrong. Are we clear?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The girls listened to his speech without comment.\n\n\"There,\" Rusty pointed in the same direction as before, \"will soon begin hundreds of thousands of people trying to hurt and kill each other. In very sophisticated ways. In this and two other hospitals we have twelve doctors. There is noway in the world we'll be able to help all those in need. Not even a fraction of those in need. And to tell you the truth, no one even expects that from us. But we will treat them. Because it is, sorry for the cliché, the reason for our existence. To those who need us. '\n\nHis listeners remained silent. Rusty shrugged.\n\n\"We cannot do more than we can,\" he said quieter and warmer. \"But we will do our all, we can do no less than that.\"\n\n\"They're charging, \"Constable John Natalis said while wiping his sweaty palms on his pants.\"The Nilfgaardians are charging, Your Majesty, they are coming for us! '\n\nKing Foltest, mastered his dancing horse, a white horse decorated with lilies on his saddle and turned his noble profile, worthy of decorating coins towards the constable.\n\n\"We must prepare an appropriate welcome, Lord Constable! Officers!\"\n\n\"Death to the Black ones!\" yelled the condottiere Adam'Adieu\" Pangratt and Count de Ruyter. The Constable straightened in his saddle and took a deep breath.\n\n\"To the banners!\"\n\nDrums reverberated, cymbals crashed and horns sounded. The earth trembled under the tens of thousands of hooves.\n\n\"Now,\" said the Halfling, Andy Biberveldt brushing the hair from his pointy ears. \"It begins...\"\n\nTara Hildebrandt, Didi Hofmeier and the others who were gathered around the wagons nodded. They could hear the dull, monotonous thud of hooves coming from behind the hill and forest. They could feel the ground shaking." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then, beyond the forest arose cries. And the noise intensified.\n\n\"The first volley from the archers,\" said Andy expertly who had already seen– or rather heard– many battles. \"There will be another one.\"\n\nHe was right.\n\n\"Now they'll collide. '\n\n\"Ma... ma.. maybe we could... hide... under the... wagon,\" William Hardbottom proposed, stuttering and writhing uneasily.\n\nBiberveldt and the others looked at the Halfling with pity.\n\n\"Under? The wagons? What for? We are separated from the battle by nearly a quarter of a mile. And even if a patrol came hereto the rear, hiding under the wagon would not save our lives.\"\n\nThe noise from the fighting intensified.\n\n\"Now,\" Andy Biberveldt estimated and was right again. From a distance of a quarter of a mile through the forest came the sound of the royal army colliding with iron and a horrible sound that bristled the hair.\n\nTerrible, desperate, wild squeals and whinnies from animals being mutilated.\n\n\"The cavalry...\" Biberveldt licked his lips. \"The cavalry impaled on pikes...\"\n\nThe old chronicler used the sponge and erased the next sentence, with whose wording he was not satisfied. He closed his eyes, reminding himself of that day. The moment when the two armies collided. Where both armies, as fierce as mastiffs, jumped at each other's throats, tightening in a deadly embrace.\n\nJarre looked for the words with which to describe it.\n\nIn vain.\n\nA wedge was driven into the side of the Temerian infantry. A gargantuan live ram of the Alba division, crushing everything that protected the living bodies of the infantry– pikes, spears, shields and halberds." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Alba division struck like a dagger into a living body and shed blood. Horses slipped on the blood slicked ground. But although the tip of the dagger penetrated very deep, it did not hit the heart or any vital organs. The wedge of the Alba division instead of crushing and dismembering the Temerian infantry, dug in and got stuck. They remained stuck in the mass of infantry, thick and viscous like pitch.\n\nAt first it did not seem so threatening. The head and wings of the wedge were made up of elite troops in heavy armor, from their shields and armor, blows bounced off like a blacksmith's hammer off of an anvil, they had also chosen well protected mounts. And although every now and again one of the armored troops fell and the horse with him, their swords and axes fell among the infantrymen in a bloody harvest. Surrounded by a mob, the division began to penetrate deeper.\n\n\"Albaaa!\" Junior Lieutenant Devlin aep Meara heard the battle cry of Colonel Eggebracht, rising above the clatter of weapons and the roar of men and the neighing of horses. \"Forward Alba! For the Emperor!\"\n\nThey moved forward, chopping, pounding and thrusting. Under the reluctant horses hooves could be heard sloshing, cracking and wailing.\n\n\"Albaaa!\"\n\nThe wedge became stuck again. The landsknechts although crushed and bleeding, did not yield and surrounded the cavalry like a vice. The earth trembled. Under the bludgeoning of the halberds and the flails, the first line of the wedge fell apart. Riddled with halberds and clubs, torn from their mounts by hooks, the knights of the Alba division began to die.\n\nThe dagger stuck in the Temerian infantry, was now not so much crippling iron in a living organism but was now like an icicle in the grip of a peasant." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Temeriaaa! For the King! Kill the Black ones!\"\n\nIt was not easy for the landsknechts. The Alba division did not burst apart. Swords and axes rose and feel and for every fallen rider the fierce infantry paid the price in blood.\n\nThe tip of a spear found its way into the crack n the armor of Eggebracht and thrust into it. The Colonel cried and swayed in his saddle. Before his men could help him, the combat swept him to the ground and the infantry fell upon him.\n\nThe black banner with the Alerion wobbled and fell. Heavy cavalry, among them Junior Lieutenant Devlin aep Meara, rushed in that direction, chopping, slashing, trampling and yelling.\n\nI wonder, thought Devlin aep Meara, removing his sword from the shattered skull of a Temerian landsknecht. I wonder, he thought deflecting a blow aimed at him, what is the point of all this? And who is to blame?\n\n\"Uh... And then the Great Masters gathered at... Our Venerable Mother... uh... Whose memory will always live within us... For the... Er... great champions of the First Lodge of... consulted... and decided...\"\n\n\"You did not prepare, adept Abonde. You have failed. Go sit down.\"\n\n\"But I learned it. Really...\"\n\n\"Sit down.\"\n\n\"Why do they have to teach that old nonsense,\" Abonde muttered, sitting down. \"Who cares about it today... And what is the use...\"\n\n\"Silence! Adept Nimue!\"\n\n\"Present, Mistress.\"\n\n\"Can you answer the questions? If not, sit straight and do not waste my time.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I can.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm listening. '\n\n\"So it stands in the annals that the convent of masters took place at the Castle of Bald Mountain and there they agree to end the destructive war between the Emperor and the Kings of the North. Reverend Mother Assire, the holy martyr, decided that the rulers would not stop fighting until completely exhausted. Whereupon, Reverend Mother Philippa, the holy martyr decided, \"Let's give them an unimaginably horrible, cruel and bloody battle, a battle that will be unprecedented. That the imperial armies and troops of the kings will be swimming in the blood of that battle, and then, we, the Grand Lodge will force them to make peace\". And that is exactly what happened. The Reverend Mothers created the Battle of Brenna. And then the rulers were force to sign for peace at Cintra. '\n\n\"Well done, adept Nimue. I'd give you an A... if not for the word'so\" at the beginning of the speech. Do not start a sentence with'so\". Sit down. And now we will talk about the Peace of Cintra... '\n\nThe bell rang for recess. But the adepts did not react with the immediate snap and clatter of desks. They kept their calm and dignity, a distinguished tranquility.\n\nThey were not snotty first years. They were third years. They were already fourteen. And that was important.\n\n\"This is the only possible solution,\" Rusty assessed the status of the first of the wounded, who was covering the clean operation table with blood. \"The thighbone is crushed. The artery has not been cut, otherwise it would have been a corpse brought here. It looks like an axe blow, with which the saddle served as a wooden block. You can look for yourselves...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Iola and Shani bent over the wounded soldier, Rusty rubbed his palms together.\n\n\"As I said, there is nothing to heal here; we will just have to cut. To work. Iola, a tourniquet. Tighten it harder. Shani, a scalpel. Not that one. The larger one for amputation.\"\n\nThe wounded man kept shooting terrified glances at their hands, watching their actions through the eyes of an animal caught in a trap.\n\n\"A little magic, Marti, if you please,\" The Halfling bent over the patient so as to minimize his field of vision.\n\n\"I have to amputate son.\"\n\n\"Noooo!\" the wounded man said, thrashing his head, trying to escape Marti Södergren hands. \"I don't want you to! '\n\n\"I have to amputate or you will die.\"\n\n\"I'd rather die... \"The wounded man's movements were getting slower under the influence of the healing magic. \"I'd rather die than be maimed... Let me die... I beg you... Let me die! '\n\n\"I cannot,\" Rusty raised the scalpel and looked at the bright blade of immaculate steel. \"I cannot let you die. I am a doctor.\"\n\nHe strongly pressed the blade into the skin and cut deeply. The wounded man howled. The sound was inhuman.\n\nThe messenger stopped the horse so suddenly that sparks emerged from under the hooves. Two assistants seized the halter and calmed the frothy stallion. The messenger dropped to the ground.\n\n\"Who are you?\" John Natalis said. \"Who sent you?\"\n\n\"Lord de Ruyter...\" wheezed the messenger. \"We have stopped the Black ones, but we have suffered terrible losses. Lord de Ruyter is asking for reinforcements.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No,\" the Constable replied after a moment of silence. \"You'll have to endure. You have to! '\n\n\"Look here,\" Rusty said pointing like a collector who was showing his collection. \"Kindly look at the resulting cut from a blow to the abdomen. Someone has beat us to it and made this unfortunate amateur laparotomy. Good thing he was brought herewith care and has not lost most of the important organs... At least, I hope not.... What's wrong, Shani? Why the look on your face? Up until now, have you only known men from the outside? '\n\n\"The intestines are damaged, Mister Rusty...\"\n\n\"A diagnosis as accurate as evident! I don't even have to look, just smell. A handkerchief, Iola. Marti, there is still too much blood, be so kind as to give us some of the priceless magic of yours. Shani, clamp here, you can see how much he is bleeding. Iola, scalpel. '\n\n\"Who wins?\" the soldier was quite awake, his eyes bulging. \"Tell me... Who wins?\"\n\n\"Boy,\" Rusty said hunch over the open, bloody, pulsating abdominal cavity. \"That is the last thing I'd be interested in if I was in your place. '\n\nOn the left flank and in the center a fierce fight still lasted, but even though the Nilfgaardian army was hard and persistent, they broke upon the King's army like a sea wave breaks against the rocks. For there stood the brave soldiers from Maribor, Vizima and Tretogor and the grim landsknechts, the mercenary professionals, the cavalry did not scare.\n\nAnd there they fought, truly like the sea against the rocks and continued to fight, and it was not possible to guess who would win, because even though the waves beat against the rock, it did not weaken or disappear and it stood there between the raging waves." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Like an old hawk, who knows whereto fall and attack, so Field Marshal Menno Coehoorn knew whereto strike. With the iron fist of his army, which consisted of the Deithwen division and Ard Feainn division he struck at the enemy lines above Golden Pond. That place was fiercely defended by the troops from Brugge, but they were less armed and armored and morale was low. They managed to hold off the attack of the Nilfgaardians. Ina breath of relief two flags of the Free Company under the command of Adam Pangratt arrested the Nilfgaardians, but both sides paid dearly in blood.\n\nHowever, the dwarves of the Volunteer brigade were facing a terrible siege and the threat of encirclement, which would threaten to tear apart the formation of the royal army.\n\nJarre dipped his pen into the inkwell. His grandchildren played in the yard, their laughter ringing like bells.\n\nSeeing the danger threatening, however, John Natalis, attentive as a crane, understood what was happening at the time, and without waiting he sent a messenger with orders to Colonel Els...\n\nIn all the naivety of his seventeen years, the trumpeter, Aubry, thought that he could get down to the right wing, transmit his orders and be backup the hill in no more than ten minutes. Absolutely no more! Not on Chiquita, his light foot mare.\n\nEven before he reached the Golden Pond, the trumpeter realized two things– He didn't know when he would reach the right wing and he didn't know when he would get back. And that Chiquita's agility would be very useful to him.\n\nAt the east end of Golden Pond, fighting raged. The Black one's fought against Brugge's cavalry which was protecting the infantry. Before the eyes of the trumpeter from the heat of the battle rode individual riders in green, yellow and red robes who fled at a gallop towards the river. Behind them like a black river, spilled the Nilfgaardians." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Aubry jerked the reins, stopping his mare, ready to turn her and flee out of the way of the fugitives and pursuers. But his sense of duty prevailed. The trumpeter clung to the horse's neck and went into a wild gallop.\n\nAround him was shouting and confusion, a kaleidoscopic jumble of silhouettes, the glitter of swords, crashes and rattles.\n\nSome of the men from Brugge where backed up to the pond and put up a desperate fight, milling about their flags with a crossed anchor. On the field the Black ones murdered the infantry who were devoid of support.\n\nBefore his eyes swirled a black cloak with a silver sun on it.\n\n\"Evgyr, Nordling!\"\n\nAubry yelled and Chiquita excited by the howling, took off at a gallop, saving his life by putting it out of reach of the Nilfgaardian's sword. Above his head arrows whistled and flashed around the blurring silhouettes.\n\nWhere am I? Where are ours? Where is the enemy?\n\n\"Evgyr morv, Nordling!\"\n\nThe thunder of hooves, neighing of horses, banging of weapons, shouting.\n\n\"Stop, you little shit! Not that way!\"\n\nA woman's voice. A woman on a chestnut stallion, in armor, her hair disheveled and her face splattered with blood. Behind her were armed horsemen.\n\n\"Who are you?\" she said, smearing the blood on her face with the back of her hand which held a sword.\n\n\"Trumpeter Aubry, Second Lieutenant to Constable Natalis... with orders for Colonels Pangratt and Els...\"\n\n\"There is noway you'll get to'Adieu\" through the fighting. We'll go to the dwarves. I'm Julia Abatemarco... Fuck! They're flanking us! Ride!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He did not have time to protest. Similarly, it would not have made sense.\n\nAfter awhile of furious galloping, they emerged from the dust in front of the infantry square who were defending themselves like a turtle with a wall of shields and like the skin of a hedgehog covered with spears. Over the square loomed a huge banner with crossed hammers and next to it was a pole with skulls and horsetails.\n\nThe square who were moving and jumping around like a dog escaping from an old man waving a stick, were being attacked by the Nilfgaardians. The Ard Feainn division who thanks to their coats with the silver sun on them could not be mistaken for any other.\n\n\"Strike, Free Company!\" screamed the woman, raising her sword. \"Make them pay!\"\n\nThe riders– and with the Aubry– charged the Nilfgaardians.\n\nThe battle only took a few moments. But it was horrible.\n\nThen the wall of shields opened before them. They were inside the square, in a crushing ring of dwarves in mail shirts and helmets, among the Redanian infantry, the cavalry of the Brugge and the light armored condottiere.\n\nJulia Abatemarco– Pretty Kitty, Commander of the condottiere– who Aubry only now recognized– led him to a stocky dwarf in a helmet decorated with a red plume, sitting on a captured Nilfgaardian stallion, with a high saddle, with which he could see over the head of his soldiers.\n\n\"Colonel Barclay Els?\"\n\nThe dwarf nodded his plume and looked at the blood that covered the messenger and his mare. Aubry involuntarily blushed. It was the blood of a Nilfgaardian who one of the condottiere had cut downright next to him. He did not even draw his sword." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Trumpeter Aubry...\"\n\n\"Son of Anzelm Aubry?\"\n\n\"The eldest.\"\n\n\"Ha! I know your father! What have you got for me from Natalis and Foltest, trumpeter?\"\n\n\"The center formation is in the threat of a breakthrough, the Constable commands you to move your men between Golden Pond and the bank of the Cholta... To support...\"\n\nHis next words were drowned out by an incredible din of shouting and neighing horses. Aubry realized how useless the orders he had brought were. How much these orders meant to\n\nBarclay Els, to Julia Abatemarco, to the dwarves with the banner with the crossed hammers, who were besieged from all side by Nilfgaard.\n\n\"I was delayed...\" he wailed. \"I've arrived too late. '\n\nPretty Kitty sputtered like areal cat. Barclay Els gritted his teeth.\n\n\"No, trumpeter,\" he said. \"Nilfgaard has arrived too early.\"\n\n\"Congratulations ladies and myself, fora successful resection of the small intestine, colon, splenectomy and liver stitching. Take note of how long it took for us to remove the effects of what had been done to our patient in a split second in battle. I would recommend th9is material for philosophical reflection. Sew up the patient now, Lady Shani.\"\n\n\"But I've never done it, Mister Rusty! '\n\n\"You have to start sometime. Sew red with red, yellow with yellow and white with white. And everything will be all right.\"\n\n\"What did you say?\" Barclay Els said yanking his beard. \"What did you say, eldest son of Anzelm Aubry? Do you think we are idle here? We are under attack by Nilfgaard! It is not our fault that the men from Brugge were attacked!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But the orders...\"\n\n\"I don't give a shit about the orders! '\n\n\"If we do not close the gap,\" he shouted over the noise, \"the Black ones will breakthrough the front! They will breakthrough the front! Opening our ranks, Barclay! You must march there!\"\n\n\"We'll be slaughtered before we can leave the pond! We'll die for nothing!\"\n\n\"So, what do you propose?\"\n\nThe dwarf furiously cursed, took off his helmet and threw it on the ground. His eyes were wild, terrible and bloodshot. Chiquita, frightened by the roar, pulled at the reins.\n\n\"Fetch me Yarpen Zigrin and Dennis Cranmer! Hurry!\"\n\nTwo dwarves waded out of the bloodiest part of the battle; it was clear at first glance. Both were covered in blood. The chainmail of one had a deep cut that was sheered at a sharp angle. The other had his head bandaged with a cloth, which was soaked in blood.\n\n\"Are you alright, Zigrin?\"\n\n\"I wonder,\" sighed the dwarf, \"why everyone is asking me that?\"\n\nBarclay turned and fixed his eyes on the Constable's messenger.\n\n\"This is the eldest son of Anzelm. The Constable and the King have commanded that we go to the front to help them. Make sure you keep your eyes open, trumpeter. There will be something to look at.\"\n\n\"The plague!\" cursed Rusty, backing away from the table waving his scalpel. \"Why? Damn it! Why must it be so?\"\n\nNo one answered. Marti Södergren only spread her hands. Shani bowed her head and Iola sniffed.\n\nThe patient who had just died, stared upwards, his eyes were fixed and glassy." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Strike, Kill! Kill these motherfuckers!\"\n\n\"At the same pace!\" Barclay Els shouted. \"Walk the same way! Keep the ranks tight! Stay as a group! A group!\"\n\nNo one is going to believe me, thought the trumpeter Aubry. When I tell people about this, no one will believe me. The square is breaking out of a full siege... Surrounded on all sides by cavalry, torn, beaten and harassed... And this square progresses. Advancing at the same pace, in close formation, shield to shield. Advancing, treading on corpses, pushing themselves against the elite Ard Feainn division... They were advancing.\n\n\"Keep pace! Walk the same way!\" Barclay Els shouted again. \"Hold the ranks! The song, you whoresons, the song! Our song! Forward, for Mahakam!\"\n\nFrom the throats of a thousand dwarves came the famous Mahakam song of war.\n\nHooouuu! Hooouuu! Hou\n\nWait, fellows!\n\nSoon you will go to hell!\n\nThis whorehouse will crumble\n\nTo its foundations!\n\nHooouuu! Hooouuu! Hou\n\n\"Strike, Free Company!\" Between the huge roar of the dwarves, like a thin blade of mercy, emerged the acute soprano of Julia Abatemarco. The condottieri left the square and made a counterattack on the Nilfgaardian cavalry. It was a suicide action– for the mercenaries, lacking the protection of the halberds, pikes and shields of the dwarves were exposed to the power of the Nilfgaardians attack. The pounding, yelling and the squealing of horses made the trumpeter, Aubry, instinctively curl up in his saddle. Something struck him in the back. He felt his mare become caught in the general crush and was inexorably dragged into the terrible carnage and confusion. He firmly grasped the hilt of his sword, which suddenly seemed to him to be strangely slippery and cumbersome." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After a moment he was driven across the line of shields and started to chop and fight around him like a man possessed.\n\n\"Again!\" he heeded the wild cry of Pretty Kitty. \"One more strike! Hold on, boys! Kill, kill! For coins as golden as the sun! Tome, Free Company!\"\n\nA Nilfgaardian rider without a helmet and with the silver sun on his cloak broke in through the shields, standing in his stirrups, he hacked his axe into the dwarf who was not protected by a shield, he then opened the head of another. Aubry turned in his saddle and cut horizontally. The Nilfgaardian's head fell to the ground. At the same time the trumpeter received a blow to the head and fell from the saddle. The crowd of people around him prevented his immediate fall to the ground and fora few moments he hung between heaven and earth between the sides of two horses. Although he was full of fear, he was not in pain for long. As soon as he hit the ground, his skull was immediately crushed by hooves.\n\nAfter sixty-five years, when asked about those days, about the Battle of Brenna, about the square marching over corpses of friends and foes, advancing towards Golden Pond, the old woman smiled, further wrinkling her face, which was already wrinkled and dark as a prune. Impatiently– or maybe just pretending impatience, she waved her trembling, bony hand which was twisted with arthritis.\n\n\"Neither side,\" she lisped, \"could gain an advantage. We were in the middle and surrounded. They attacked us from all sides. We simply killed. They, us and we them... khe-khe-khh... They us and we them...\"\n\nThe old woman controlled her coughing with effort. The listeners who were closest saw her wipe away a tear that was making its way through her maze of wrinkles and old scars." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"They were as brave as us,\" she muttered. \"Khe-khe... And we were just as strong and stubborn and fierce as they. Us and them...\"\n\nShe paused. Fora longtime. The listeners urged her, watching her smile at the memories, with its glory. Smiling at the blurred faces of those who survived through the fog of forgetfulness. Those that could not been killed by liquor, narcotics or tuberculosis.\n\n\"We were equally brave,\" end Julia Abatemarco. \"Neither side was strong enough to be braver. But we... We remained braver one minute more than they.\"\n\n\"Marti, I beg you, give us more of your wonderful magic! Just a little bit more! These fellows gut is unfortunately one big stew, garnished with lots of chain mail rings! I cannot do anything if he keeps flopping around like a fish out of water! Shani, damn it, hold the clamp! Iola! Are you asleep, dammit? Tighten! Squeeezze!\"\n\nIola, breathing heavily, swallowed saliva with effort. I'm going to faint, she thought. I can't stand it. I can't bear it any longer, the smell, the awful mixture of blood, puke, feces, urine, intestinal contents, sweat, fear and death. I cannot endure it any longer, the constant crying, the howling, the bloody, slimy hands reaching towards me, as if I was their salvation, their refuge, their lives... I cannot stand the nonsense, what we are doing here. Because it is nonsense. On big, huge, meaningless nonsense. I cannot stand anymore strain and fatigue. They continue to deliver more and more... I cannot stand it. I cannot stand it. I'm going to throw up. To faint. I will be ridiculed..." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Help the writer, keep the story going.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 9" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"They were as brave as us,\" she muttered. \"Khe-khe... And we were just as strong and stubborn and fierce as they. Us and them...\"\n\nShe paused. Fora longtime. The listeners urged her, watching her smile at the memories, with its glory. Smiling at the blurred faces of those who survived through the fog of forgetfulness. Those that could not been killed by liquor, narcotics or tuberculosis.\n\n\"We were equally brave,\" end Julia Abatemarco. \"Neither side was strong enough to be braver. But we... We remained braver one minute more than they.\"\n\n\"Marti, I beg you, give us more of your wonderful magic! Just a little bit more! These fellows gut is unfortunately one big stew, garnished with lots of chain mail rings! I cannot do anything if he keeps flopping around like a fish out of water! Shani, damn it, hold the clamp! Iola! Are you asleep, dammit? Tighten! Squeeezze!\"\n\nIola, breathing heavily, swallowed saliva with effort. I'm going to faint, she thought. I can't stand it. I can't bear it any longer, the smell, the awful mixture of blood, puke, feces, urine, intestinal contents, sweat, fear and death. I cannot endure it any longer, the constant crying, the howling, the bloody, slimy hands reaching towards me, as if I was their salvation, their refuge, their lives... I cannot stand the nonsense, what we are doing here. Because it is nonsense. On big, huge, meaningless nonsense. I cannot stand anymore strain and fatigue. They continue to deliver more and more... I cannot stand it. I cannot stand it. I'm going to throw up. To faint. I will be ridiculed..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Bandage!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Swab! Clamp! Not here! Be careful what you're doing! If you make another mistake, I'll smack you on your redhead! Do you hear? I'll smack you on the head! '\n\nGreat Melitele help me. Help me, goddess.\n\n\"Look! He is improving! Another clamp, Priestess. Here, clamp the vessel! Well done, Iola, keep it up! Marti, wipe your eyes and face. And me too...\"\n\nWhere does this pain come from, thought Constable John Natalis. What hurts me so much?\n\nOh.\n\nHe unclenched his fists.\n\n\"Strike!\" cried Kees van Lo, waving his hands. \"Strike, Lord Marshal! Their line permits! If we do not hesitate to strike, we can break them! The Great Sun will crush them!\"\n\nMenno Coehoorn bit his nails. He noticed that there were people watching him and quickly pulled his fingers out of his mouth.\n\n\"Strike,\" Kees van Lo repeated calmly. \"Nauzicaa is ready.\"\n\n\"Nauzicaa must be,\" Menno said brusquely. \"Daerlan also needs to be. Lord Faoiltiarna!\"\n\nThe commander of the Vrihedd brigade, Isengrim Faoiltiarna, call the'Iron Wolf\", turned to the marshal his face was distorted by a terrible scar that extended across his forehead, brow, the bridge of his nose and to his cheek.\n\n\"You will strike there,\" Menno Coehoorn pointed his baton. \"There, where the Temerian and Redanian lines come together. Right there.\"\n\nThe elf saluted. His disfigured face did not move, even his great deep eyes did not change expression." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Our allies, thought Menno. Our allies. We have fought together. Against a common enemy. But I do not understand these elves at all. They are so strange. So different.\n\n\"Curious,\" Rusty tried to wipe his face with his elbow, but his elbow was also bloody. Iola hurried to his aid. \"Interesting,\" said the surgeon, \"the patient was stabbed with a pitchfork... one of the teeth pierced his heart, oh, look here. The cardiac chamber is breached, the aorta is almost separated... But he was still breathing a little while ago. Here, on the table. On the battlefield he was pierced through the heart and he lived still on my table...\"\n\n\"You mean he died?\" said a grim member of the cavalry. \"We were carrying him herein vain?\"\n\n\"It is never in vain,\" Rusty held his gaze. \"But you are right, he has died. The patient has died. Take him away... damn! Come take a look girls!\"\n\nMarti, Iola and Shani bowed over the dead soldier. Rusty lifted the eyelids of the dead man.\n\n\"Have you ever seen anything like that?\"\n\nThe three began to tremble.\n\n\"Yes,\" all three answered simultaneously. They looked at each other in amazement.\n\n\"I have already seen it,\" said Rusty. \"He's a witcher. A mutant. That explains to us why he survived for so long... He was your comrade-in-arms? Or did you bring him hereby chance? '\n\n\"He was our companion, Sir Medic,\" a second soldier, a small man with a bandage head said gloomily. \"From our squadron, as a volunteer. A master swordsman. His name was Coën.\"\n\n\"Did you know he was a witcher?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"We did." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But he was a good friend.\"\n\n\"Ah,\" Rusty sighed, looking at four soldiers bringing in another wounded in a blood-soaked cloak. A young man judging by how thin he was. \"That's too bad... I'd like to do the autopsy on this respectable witcher. This would be a fine opportunity, I could even write a dissertation, O could take a look at his organs. But there is no time, remove him from the table! Shani, water. Marti, disinfectant. Iola... Hey, girl, are you crying again? What is it this time...\"\n\n\"Nothing, Mister Rusty. It is nothing. I will be alright.\"\n\n\"I feel lied to, cheated, robbed,\" said Triss Merigold.\n\nNenneke did not answer fora longtime, she gazed from the terrace overlooking the temple's garden, where the priestesses and novices devoted themselves to the spring works.\n\n\"You made a choice,\" she said finally. \"You chose your path, Triss. Your own destiny. Voluntarily. This is no time to grieve.\"\n\n\"Nenneke,\" the enchantress looked down. \"I cannot really tell you more that what I have said. Believe me and forgive me.\"\n\n\"Who am Ito forgive? What benefits will you receive from my forgiveness?\"\n\n\"I can see,\" Triss burst out, \"your eyes looking at me! You and your priestesses. I can see their eyes asking me the question. What are you doing here, sorceress? Why are you not therewith Iola, Eurneid, Katye, Myrrha? Jarre?\"\n\n\"You're exaggerating, Triss. '\n\nThe sorceress stared into the distance, into the woods beyond the temple's walls, to the distant smoke of fires. Nenneke was silent, thinking, she too was faraway. Where the war was raging and bloody. She thought of the girls sent there." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"They,\" Triss said, \"refused me.\"\n\nNenneke was silent.\n\n\"They refused me everything,\"Triss repeated. \"So clever, so reasonable, so logical... How could I not believe them when they explained that there are important and less important issues, and those that are less important should be given up without a second thought, to sacrifice them for the more important without a shadow of grief? That is does not make sense to save people that you know and love, because they are just individuals and the fate of these individuals are irrelevant to the fate of the world. That there is no sense for the struggle in defense of honor and ideals, for they are empty concepts? That the real battle for the fate of the world is somewhere else, and will be fought somewhere else? And I feel robbed. Robbed of the possibility of committing follies. I cannot go madly hurrying after Ciri to help her, I cannot run like crazy to save Geralt and Yennefer. Not only that, there is a war, which you have sent your girls... A war, that Jarre fled to and I am refused the possibility to even stand on a hill. To once again stand on a hill. Knowing this time, I'd made the right decision. '\n\n\"Everyone has their decisions and everyone has their hills, Triss,\" the priestess said quietly. \"Everyone. You cannot escape your own.\"\n\nThe entrance to the tent was busy. They brought another wounded soldier. Accompanied by several men. One of them, a knight in full plate armor, was shouting orders.\n\n\"Hurry up, you damn slackers! Faster! Put him here, here! Hey you! Surgeon!\"\n\n\"I'm busy, \"Rusty did not even lookup.\"Please put him with the other wounded on the stretchers. I'll deal with him as soon as I'm done. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You'll take care of him immediately, you fucking quack! This is the noble Count of Garramone himself! '\n\n\"This hospital,\" Rusty raised his voice, angry because stuck in the bowels of a wounded man was the broken tip of a crossbow bolt which had slipped out of his tweezers, \"has very little to do with democracy. You bring up mainly, barons, counts, marquises and earls. The ordinary wounded on the battlefield, nobody cares about. But everyone is equal here. At least on my table.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Never mind,\" Rusty said, again probing the wound with his tweezers, \"it doesn't matter if I was dragging apiece of metal from a serf or an aristocrat. All who lie on my table are equal to a beggar prince. '\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Your Count must wait his turn.\"\n\n\"Halfling fuck!\"\n\n\"Help me, Shani. Take the other clamp. Beware of the artery! Marti, a little bit of magic, if I may ask. We have a bleeder.\"\n\nThe knight took a step forward, his armor and teeth gnashing.\n\n\"I'll have you hanged! \"he shouted.\"You'll hang, cursed non-human!\"\n\n\"Shut up, Papebrock,\" said the slightly wounded nobleman. \"Shut up, leave me here and get back to the fight.\"\n\n\"But, my lord! I cannot...\"\n\n\"That's an order! '\n\nFrom the other side of the canvas came the roar and rattle of battle, the snorting of horses and wild cries. The wounded in the hospital howled indifferent voices.\n\n\"Please take a look,\" Rusty raised the tweezers and demonstrated as he finally removed the tip. \"This was undoubtedly manufactured by a clever craftsman, to feed a large family. It shows amazing skill and dexterity. The way this gizmo sticks in the human intestines is ingenious. Love live progress.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He threw the bloody tip into a bucket and looked at the operating table, the wounded man had fainted dead away during his oration.\n\n\"Sew him up and take him away,\" he nodded. \"If he is lucky, he'll live. Bring me the next one in the queue. The one with the smashed head. '\n\n\"He,\" Marti Södergren said calmly, \"has just released his place inline.\"\n\nRusty took a deep breath, without unnecessary comment walked away from the table and stood by the hurt Earl. His hands and apron were splattered with blood like a butcher. Daniel Etcheverry, Count of Garramone, paled even more.\n\n\"Well,\" said Rusty. \"It's your turn Count. Lift him up onto the table. What have we here? Oh, this joint can no longer be saved, it is broken. If left it will grind your bones to mush. Now this will hurt, but don't worry, it will be like in battle. Tourniquet, scalpel, saw. We will amputate, my lord.\"\n\nDaniel Etcheverry, Earl of Garramone, who until now had bravely endured the pain, howled like a wolf. Before he could again clench his jaw, Shani, moving fast, thrust apiece of softwood between his teeth.\n\n\"Your Majesty! Lord Constable!\"\n\n\"Speak up, boy.\"\n\n\"The Volunteer army and the Free Company are nearing Golden Pond... The dwarves and the condottieri stand firm, though with severe losses. It is said that Adam'Adieu\" Pangratt is dead, Frontino is dead and Julia Abatemarco is dead... All the commanders. The Dorian banner, which were sent to help were cut down to the man...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Withdrawn, Lord Constable,\" Foltest said quietly but clearly. \"If you ask me, it is time to fight a withdrawal. Let Bronibor's men stand against the Black ones. Now! Immediately! Otherwise they'll breakthrough the army's front line, penetrate and end us all. '\n\nJohn Natalis didn't answer; he watched another messenger from afar who raced towards them on horseback, from which foam flew.\n\n\"Take a breath man. Take a breath and pass on the message.\"\n\n\"They broke... They broke the front... Elves, the Vrihedd brigade... Lord de Ruyter conveys a message to your lordships...\"\n\n\"What is it? Speak!\"\n\n\"It is time to save your lives.\"\n\nJohn Natalis lookup to the heavens.\n\n\"Blenckert,\" he said flatly. \"Let Blenckert arrive. Or let the night come.\"\n\nFrom all sides hooves thundered around the tent, the air was filled with screams and the whinnies of horses. A soldier burst into the hospital followed by two orderlies.\n\n\"Run people!\" shouted the soldier. \"Save yourselves! Nilfgaard has won! Defeat! Doom!\"\n\n\"Clamp!\" Rusty said dodging blood that was spurting from the broken arteries of the patient on his operation table. \"Clamp! Swab! Here, Shani! Marti, do something about the bleeding...\"\n\nBefore the tent someone screamed like an animal. The scream trailed off to a grunt. A horse whinnied and something fell with a clang and a boom. A crossbow bolt ripped through the canvas, whistling, it flew to the opposite side of the tent, luckily too high to threaten any of the wounded lying on litters." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Nilfgaard!\" the soldier shouted again, in a high trembling voice. \"Surgeon! Did you not hear what I said! Nilfgaard has broken our lines, and are killing everyone! Run!\"\n\nRusty took over from Marti Södergren, taking her needle and began to sew. The patient lay motionless fora longtime, but was still alive– his heart was beating. It was clearly visible.\n\n\"I don't want to die! ' shouted one of the wounded who were conscious. The soldier cursed and launched himself at the exit, he suddenly fell back, screaming, splattering blood, and collapsed to the ground. Iola who was kneeling beside the litter, jumped back.\n\nSuddenly there was silence.\n\nThis is bad, Rusty thought when he saw who was entering the tent. Elves with silver lightning on their cloaks. The Vrihedd brigade. The notorious Vrihedd brigade.\n\n\"They are being treated,\" said the first of the elves, tall with a narrow face and blue eyes.\n\nNo one answered. Rusty felt his hands shake. He quickly handed the needle to Marti. He saw Shani turn pale as chalk.\n\n\"What is the meaning of this?\" said the elf ominously. \"Why are there so many being treated? The wounded should be therein the field of battle, dying of their wounds. And you are healing them here? It does not make sense. It appears that we have different interests.\"\n\nHe bent and drove his sword into the chest of a wounded soldier closest to the door. Another elf crossed to a second wounded man and put his sword through him. The third wounded man was conscious and tried to stop the deadly stabbing with the thickly bandaged stump of his right arm.\n\nShani screamed shrilly. It was a sharp cry that pierced. It drowned out the heavy, inhuman grunt from the crippled man. Iola fell across a stretcher and used her own body to protect another wounded. Her face was as white as the canvas dressing. The Elf's eyes narrowed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Va vort, beanna!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "he snapped, \"Get off, or I'll stab you both, Dh'oine!\"\n\n\"Get out of here!\" Rusty found himself with three jumps in front of Iola and stood between her and the elf. \"Get out of my hospital, murderers! Out there you can kill each other! But get out of here!\"\n\nThe elf looked down. The small, stocky halfling, trembling in fear only reach just above his belt.\n\n\"Blorde Pherian,\" he hissed. \"Human slave! Get out of my way!\"\n\n\"Not on your life!\" the surgeon's teeth chattered, but his words were strong.\n\nA second elf ran forward and pushed the halfling aside with a spear. Rusty fell to his knees. The tall elf violent jerked Iola off of the wounded man and raised his sword.\n\nHe froze when he saw the black cloak rolled up under the casualty's head with the silver flames of Deithwen division on it. And the distinction of Colonel.\n\n\"Yaevinn!\" An elf entering the tent shouted, his dark hair collected in a braid. \"Cáemm, veloë! Ess'evgyriad a'dh'oine a'en va! Ess'tess! '\n\nThe tall elf looked fora moment at the wounded colonel then at the water eyes filled with fear of the surgeon. Then he turned on his heel and left.\n\nFrom outside again came the sound of horses hooves pounding, screaming and the clash of iron.\n\n\"There are the Black ones! Kill them!\" shouted a thousand voices. Someone outside the tent again roared like an animal and then ended in a grunt.\n\nRusty tried to stand, but his legs would not hear of it. His hands shook." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Iola shook with strong spasms of weeping, curled up next to the stretcher of the wounded Nilfgaardian, in a fetal position.\n\nShani was crying, without trying t hide the tears, but still held the clamps. Marti sewed quietly, only her lips moved in a silent monologue.\n\nRusty was still unable to stand up. His eyes met the eyes of an orderly pressed into the corner of the tent.\n\n\"Give me a sip of vodka,\" he said with effort. \"Don't tell me you don't have any. I know you beasts always do.\"\n\nGeneral Blenheim Blenckert stood in hi stirrups and stretched his neck as her listened to the echoes of battle.\n\n\"Form up the troops,\" he ordered. \"Then trot over the hill. From what the scouts are saying, we will run directly into the right wing of the Black ones.\"\n\n\"We'll give them hell! ' cried one of the young lieutenants, a youth with a thin, silky beard. Blenckert gave him aside long glance.\n\n\"Bring the standard to the front,\" he ordered and drew his sword. \"And give the battle cry, \"Redania!\" with all the power in your lungs! Let Foltest and Natalis\" boys know that the relief is here. '\n\nCount Kobus de Ruyter had fought many battles in the last forty years. He had fought them since his sixteenth year of life. De Ruyter's had been soldiers for eight generations. The roar of battle, the rattle and crash of steel that was unbearable for everyone, Kobus de Ruyter perceived as a musical symphony. And at this moment he heard in the concert, new notes, chords and tones." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hooray!\" he yelled, waving his mace. \"Redania! Redania is coming! Eagles! Eagles!\"\n\nOver the top of the hill from the north appeared riders. Above the head of the riders and horses fluttered a huge banner with the silver eagle of Redania.\n\n\"Relief!\" yelled de Ruyter. \"Here comes relief! Hooray! Strike at the Black ones!\"\n\nThe soldier from eight generations of soldiers noticed that the Nilfgaardians were turning in a counterattack and were moving to tighten their formation. He knew that it must be avoided.\n\n\"Follow me,\" he ordered and grabbing the banner from the hands of the standard bearer. \"Follow me!\"\n\nThey attacked. They attacked like madmen, in a terrible but effectively way. They did not allow the Venendal division to form up against the Redanian cavalry. Their attack devastated the Nilfgaardians. The sky rocked with desperate screams.\n\nKobus de Ruyter never saw or heard. Astray crossbow bolt struck him directly in the head. The Count slipped from the saddle and fell from his horse; the standard he held covered him like a shroud.\n\nEight generations of de Ruyter's, who were following the battle from the other world, nodded with appreciation.\n\n\"You could say that the Nordlings were saved that day by a miracle. Ora cluster of coincidences that nobody has been able to provide... It is true that Restif de Montholon writes in his book that Marshal Coehoorn made a mistake in assessing the strength and intentions of the enemy. That he took too much of a risk, splitting the Center Group Army and taking only cavalry units to the north. That he plunged recklessly into a battle in which he had the upper hand. That his reconnaissance was underestimated and therefore did not know about the Redanian auxiliary army...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Cadet Puttkammer!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The dubious'works\" of Mister Montholon are not on the reading list of this school! And his imperial majesty has spoken out quite critically about this book! So cadet, do not quote it here. Indeed, I am surprised. So far your responses had been pretty good, even excellent, and suddenly you begin to clamor about miracles and clusters of circumstances, to let you end, allows you to criticize the military capabilities of Menno Coehoorn, one of the greatest leaders of the Empire. Cadet Puttkammer and the other cadet, if you want to pass the exam, listen tome and remember– At Brenna there were no miracles or coincidences, our defeat was caused by an extensive plot! Not only by hostile marauders, but also by subversive elements within our own ranks– various malcontents, cosmopolitans, renegades and traitors! An abscess, which later was burned with a white hot iron. But before that happened, those nasty traitors, betrayed their own nation and wove their webs and traps and built their networks. They tangled and betrayed Marshal Coehoorn, then deceived and misled him! They were rogues, without honor, conscience or simple...\"\n\n\"Motherfuckers,\" wheezed Menno Coehoorn, looking through his spyglass at the right wing. \"Cursed motherfuckers. I'll find you, just wait and I'll teach you what it means to reconnoiter. De Wyngalt! Personally find the officer who was on patrol behind the hills to the north. And hang his entire patrol.\"\n\n\"As you command,\" Ouder de Wyngalt, the Marshal's aide clicked his heels. Of course he did not know that Lamarr Flaut, the wanted commander from the reconnaissance patrol was now dying under the hooves of the Redanian cavalry, whose arrival at the fight he did not identify because of his own cowardice. De Wyngalt obviously could not know that for he himself only remained two hours of life." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How many are their Sir Trahe,\" said Coehoorn, without taking his eye from the spyglass. \"According to your estimate?\"\n\n\"About ten thousand,\" the commander of the Seventh Daerlan replied dryly. \"Mainly Redania, but I also seethe banners of Aedirn... There is also a unicorn, so Kaedwen as well... At least one squadron...\"\n\nThe Dun Banner galloped, horses hooves kicking up sand and gravel.\n\n\"Forward, Dun Banner!\" roared Centurion Digod, drunk as usual. \"Kill, kill! For Kaedwen! Kaedwen!\"\n\nDamn, but I want to piss, Zyvik thought. I should have peed before the battle... Now there is no time.\n\n\"Forward, Dun Banner!\"\n\nAlways the Dun Banner. When things go wrong, the Dun Banner. Who is sent as an expeditionary force to Temeria? The Dun Banner. Always the Dun Banner. And I want to piss.\n\nThey arrived. Zyvik screamed, turned in his saddle and cut at a ear, shattering the shoulder and neck of a rider in a black coat with a silver star with eight points.\n\n\"The Dun Banner! Kaedwen! Attack, attack!\"\n\nWith the pounding and crash of hooves and the scream of humans, the Dun Banner collided the Nilfgaardians.\n\n\"De Mellis-Stoke and Braibant can handle this relief,\" Elan Trahe, the commander of the Seventh Daerlan brigade said calmly. \"The forces are balanced, nothing can happen, that cannot be fixed. The left wing is strengthened Tyrconnel's division and the right wing has Magne and Venendal. And we... we can tip the balance, Lord Marshal... '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We will strike the breach opened by the elves,\" Coehoorn an experience strategist said immediately. \"They will move over to the head and invoke panic. Yes, that's what we'll do, the Great Sun! To the banners, gentlemen! Nauzicaa and Seventh, your time has come!\"\n\n\"Long live the Emperor!\" Kees van Lo yelled.\n\n\"Mister de Wyngalt,\" the Marshal turned away. \"Gather the attendants and the personal guard. It is the end of inactivity. We're going to attack together with the Seventh Daerlan. '\n\nOuder de Wyngalt paled, but immediately caught himself.\n\n\"Long live the Emperor!\" he said, his voice barely wavering.\n\nRusty cut, the wounded screamed and clawed at the table. Iola, fought bravely with the movements of his head, tightening the tourniquet. From the entrance of the tent came the sound of Shani's raised voice.\n\n\"What are you doing? Have you all gone mad? We are trying to save the living here and you come here dragging the dead?\"\n\n\"But it is our own Baron Anzelm Aubry, Lady Healer! The commander of the squadron!\"\n\n\"He was the commander of the squadron! Now he's dead! You've managed to bring him herein one piece only by the fact that his armor is tight! Take him away. This is a hospital, not a graveyard!\"\n\n\"But, Lady Healer...\"\n\n\"Do not block the entrance! Oh, there carry in that one that still breathes. Or so it seems. Or maybe it is just gas.\"\n\nRusty snorted, but then frowned.\n\n\"Shani! Come here!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Remember, brat,\" Rusty said through clenched teeth, leaning over crushed legs. \"Cynicism is only permitted to a surgeon after the first ten years of practice. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes, Mister Rusty.\"\n\n\"Take a scrapper and remove the periosteum... Damn we should anesthetize a bit... Where is Marti?\"\n\n\"Puking at the front of tent,\" Shani said without a hit of cynicism. \"Like a cat.\"\n\n\"Sorceresses,\" Rusty picked up a saw, \"instead of thinking of various terrible and powerful spells, they should focus on inventing one. So that they can cast it as a minor spell. For example, the aesthetic. Without the various problems and side effects like puking.\"\n\nThe saw grated on bone. The wounded soldier howled.\n\n\"Tighten the tourniquet harder, Iola!\"\n\nThe bone finally gave way. Rusty put away the saw and then wiped his sweaty forehead.\n\n\"Veins and vessels,\" he nodded out of habit, but in vain, because before he even finished the sentence, the girls had already come over. He took the severed leg from the table and threw it in the corner, on a pile of other severed limbs. The wounded man had not howled or screamed for sometime.\n\n\"Unconscious or dead?\"\n\n\"Fainted, Mister Rusty.\"\n\n\"Great. Sew the stump, Shani. Bring in the next one! Iola go and check if Marti has finished vomiting everything.\"\n\n\"I am curious,\" Iola said quietly, without looking up, \"how many years of experience do you have, Mister Rusty. A hundred?\"\n\nAfter several minutes of forced march that raised a cloud of dust, the cries or the Decurion's and centurions finally stopped and the Vizima Regiment deployed into battle lines. Jarre panting and drinking in air like a fish saw Voivode Bronibor parading along the lines on his beautiful sorrel covered with armor plates, the Voivode was also dressed in full armor, and his armor was cover in blue though which made Bronibor look like a huge tin mackerel." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How are you, soldiers?\" Bronibor shouted to his men.\n\nThe ranks of pikemen responded with a roar that echoed like distant thunder.\n\n\"You're making a lot of noise, \"the Voivode said, turning his horse and walking back down the line,\"that means, you're doing well. When you're not doing well you whine and moan like old ladies. I can see from your faces that you are dying to enter the battle, that you dream to fight and cannot wait to take on the Nilfgaardians! Eh, soldiers of Vizima? Then I have good news for you! Your dreams will be fulfilled in an instant. Ina short moment. '\n\nThe Pikemen murmured again. Bronibor meanwhile arrived at the end of the line, turned his horse and slowly rode back. He spoke further and tapped his baton on his decorated saddle pommel.\n\n\"You have swallowed dust, infants, marching behind the knights! Until now, instead of glory and booty, you have been smelling horseshit! You lack power and you almost did not reach the field of honor and glory even today, slackers. But in the end you still manage to get my heartfelt congratulations. In this country, whose name I have forgotten, you can finally show your worth as soldiers. That cloud you seen in the field is the Nilfgaardian cavalry, which aims to destroy our army by attacking the flank and pushing our forces into the swamp near the river, whose name I have forgotten, too. But you famous Vizima pikemen, will defend the honor of King Foltest and Constable Natalis by filling in the gap created by our ranks. You will close the gap with your breasts, halting the Nilfgaardians charge. Rejoice, eh, comrades? Are you bursting with pride?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jarre, squeezing the shaft of his pike, looked around. Nothing pointed to the fact that the soldiers were happy with the prospect of the approaching fight, and if they were proud of their task, their pride was skillfully masked. Melfi, who was to his right, murmured a prayer to himself. To his left, Deuslax, an optimistic professional, sucked up snot, coughed and cursed to himself nervously.\n\nBronibor turned his horse and straightened in the saddle.\n\n\"I did not hear you!\" he bellowed. \"I asked if you are fucking bursting with pride?\"\n\nThis time the pikemen, seeing no other way out, roared with aloud voice that they were proud. Jarre also roared. Just like everyone else.\n\n\"Good!\" the Voivode turned his horse to face the army. \"Now rally! Centurions, what are you waiting for? Form a square, front row kneeling, second row remain standing! Plant your pikes! Not by this side, you idiot! Yes I'm talking to you, hairy bastard! Move closer, shoulder to shoulder! Ah, now you look terrific! Almost like you are an army! '\n\nJarre found himself in the second row. He pressed the butt of the pike into the ground and gripped it in fear in his sweaty hands. Melfi dimly repeated several words that were mostly related to the intimate details of the life of the Nilfgaardians, dogs, bitches, kings, constables, governors and all their mothers.\n\nThe cloud in the field approached.\n\n\"Don't waste your farts or chattering teeth now! \"Bronibor cried.\"You can't use those noises to scare the Nilfgaardian horses! Let there be no mistake! Moving towards us is the Nauzicaa and Seventh Daerlan divisions, an excellent, well-trained army! They cannot be scared! They cannot be beat! You have to kill them! Raised those pikes higher!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "From the distance came the sound of hooves, still faraway but growing louder. The earth began to shake. In the cloud of dust, the sun sparkled off of flashing blades.\n\n\"You are fucking lucky, men of Vizima,\" the Voivode shouted again. \"You are not using a normal pike but anew type which is twenty feet long! While the swords of the Nilfgaardians are only three and a half feet long. You know how to count? They know how to count too. But they think that you will not hold and show your true nature, the nature of a coward. The Black Ones are counting on those pikes hitting the ground and you men scurrying across the field like rabbits and then they can cut you down comfortably without complication. Remember, shitheads, although fear can lend your feet speed, you cannot outrun a horse. Those who want to live, who want fame and booty, will resist! Resist viciously! Resist like a wall! And keep the ranks!\"\n\nJarre looked around. The crossbowmen that were behind the line of pikemen were already turning their cranks, within the square, halberds, javelins, spears and pitchforks were being lifted. The ground shook harder still. They could make out the black wall of the cavalry rushing towards them, and could make out individual riders.\n\n\"Mama, mama,\" Melfi repeated with trembling lips. \"Mama, mama...\"\n\n\"... Fucking whoresons,\" Deuslax murmured.\n\nThe rumbling increased. Jarre went to lick his lips but failed. His tongue had stopped moving, it had become strangely stiff and was a dry as sawdust. The rumbling grew louder.\n\n\"Get ready!\" Bronibor roared, drawing his sword. \"Put your shoulder to your neighbor! None of you go to war alone! The only cure for the fear you feel is that pike in your hands! Ready for the battle! Put the pikes into the chest of the horse! What must we do, soldiers of Vizima? That is a question?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Resist!\" the pikemen shouted in unison. \"Resist like a wall! Keep the ranks!\"\n\nJarre roared with everyone. From under the hooves of the approaching horses sprayed gravel and sand. The riders they carried howled like demons, waving their swords.\n\nJarre held onto his pike, hid his head on his shoulder and closed his eyes.\n\nJarre, without interrupting his writing, used the stump of his hand to wave away a wasp that was hovering over the inkwell.\n\nField Marshal Coehoorn's plan failed– his counterattack against the flank was stopped by the heroic Vizima infantry and Voivode Bronibor, even though they paid a bloody tax.\n\nWhile the men of Vizima resisted the strong pressure from Nilfgaard on the left flank the enemy continued on the right. Soon our troops gained the upper hand on the right flank as well, where the dwarves and tough condottiere resisted Nilfgaard's grip. From our ranks arose a triumphant cry, and in the hearts of our fighters enter anew spirit. The confidence of the Nilfgaardian soldiers fled, their arms grew heavy and their strength ebbed. Some of them retreated, other still resisted, but now uncoordinated, in scattered groups, soon besieged from all sides.\n\nThen the enemy commander realized that the battle was lost. Surrounded by his loyal officers and knights, they bought him anew horse and pleaded with him to escape and save his life. But in the Field Marshal's chest beat a brave heart.\n\n\"It is not right,\" he cried, pushing away the reins being handed to him. \"Only a coward would flee from the field, where the empire has lost so many good men.\"\n\nThen brave Menno Coehoorn said..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There is noway to escape,\" said Menno Coehoorn soberly, looking around the battlefield. \"They have us surrounded.\"\n\n\"Give me your coat and helmet, sir\" Captain Sievers wiped sweat and blood from his face. \"Take my things and horse... Do not protest! You must survive, Lord Marshal. Your life, your skills are too valuable for the empire, irreplaceable... My Daerlan will hit the Nordlings, they will be attracted to us, and you can try to breakout down thereby the pond...\"\n\n\"I shall leave,\" Coehoorn muttered, grabbing the reins given to him.\n\n\"It is an honor,\" Sievers stood up in the saddle. \"We are soldiers! Of the Seventh Daerlan!\"\n\n\"Good luck,\" Coehoorn murmured, throwing a cloak with the silver scorpion around his shoulders. \"Sievers?\"\n\n\"Yes, Lord Marshal?\"\n\n\"Nothing. Good luck, kid.\"\n\n\"You too, sir. Behind me, men!\"\n\nCoehoorn stared after them fora longtime, until the point where Sievers' group with screaming and the pounding of hooves, collided with the condottieri. The condottieri outnumber them and other units rushed into help. The Black cloaks disappeared among the condottieri gray and everything was enveloped in dust.\n\nA significant cough from de Wyngalt brought Field Marshal Coehoorn back to reality. He adjusted the harness and stirrups and mounted the stallion.\n\n\"Let's go! ' he ordered.\n\nAt first they were fine. The Nordlings made a gap in their defenses, as they concentrated their forces on doggedly attacking the last division of soldiers who had survived the destruction of the Nauzicaa brigade. The Marshal made his way out of the encirclement, but not without obstacles. The Nilfgaardians had to fight the light cavalry, who according to their colors where from Brugge." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Coehoorn stopped pretending heroism, he just wanted to survive. He looked back at his private guards, struggling with the cavalry, he rode hastily with his assistants towards the river, flattening himself and clinging to his horse's neck.\n\nThe way was clear on the other side of the river, behind some bent willows, was an empty plain, were he could see no armies. Ouder de Wyngalt also saw this and shouted with triumph.\n\nToo soon.\n\nThe slow lazy current of the steam was the only thing that separated them from the greenfield. They came at it at a full gallop, after a couple of steps the horses sank up to their stomachs into a swamp.\n\nThe Marshal flew across the stallion's head and landed in the mud. All around him horses and people screamed. Amidst the pandemonium Menno suddenly heard a different sound. A sound that signified death.\n\nThe sound of arrows.\n\nHe lunged towards the river. Cutting through deep mud. Beside him a wading aide fell on his face in the mud, the Marshal saw an arrow in his back. At the same time he felt a hard blow to his head. He staggered, but did not fall, because he was up to mid-thigh in the marsh. He wanted to scream, but only managed to croak.\n\nI'm alive, he thought with relief, still alive. A horse who was trying to free itself from the clutches of the stick mud had kicked the Marshal's helmet, smashing the plate and cutting his cheek, smashing his teeth and slashing his tongue... I'm bleeding... I can taste blood... But I'm alive...\n\nAgain he heard the sound of a bow, the whistle of arrows and the crack of thunder as the bolts pierced through armor, the shouting, the neighing of horses and the splash of blood. The Marshal looked back and saw at the edge of the shooters a small, stock, squat figure in chainmail in helmets. Dwarves, he thought." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The sound of ropes from the crossbows, the whistle of bolts. The neighing of terrified horses. The sound of screaming form people trapped in the mud and water.\n\nOuder de Wyngalt turned towards the shooters and called to surrender, in a high, squeaky voice he begged for mercy and offered ransom. He grabbed his sword by the blade, the internationally known gesture and held it towards the dwarves. The gesture was not understood or wrongly understood– two arrows hit him in the chest so hard that the impact almost lifted him out of the mud.\n\nCoehoorn ripped the damaged helmet from his head. He knew the Nordling language well enough.\n\n\"Mmmenno... Coehoorn...\" he stammered, spitting blood. \"Mmarshal... Coehoorn...\"\n\n\"What is he spluttering, Zoltan?\" one of the dwarves wonder aloud.\n\n\"Who cares, fuck this dog and his chatter! Seethe embroidery on his cloak, Munro?\"\n\n\"A silver scorpion! Haaa! Guys, nail the motherfucker! For Caleb Stratton!\"\n\n\"For Caleb!\"\n\nThe strings rang. Coehoorn received one arrow in his chest, one in the groin and one below the collarbone.\n\nThe Nilfgaardian Field Marshal fell back into the slush, knotweed and pondweed and disappeared under the weight of his armor.\n\nWho the devil is Caleb Stratton, he thought, I've never even heard of Caleb...\n\nTurbid water, dense with blood and mud from the Cholta River closed over his head and into his lungs.\n\nShe left the tent to get some fresh air. Then she saw him sitting next to the blacksmith's bench." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Jarre?\"\n\nHe raised his eyes. In them was avoid.\n\n\"Iola,\" he said with difficulty, his lips swollen. \"How are you...?\"\n\n\"What a question!\" she immediately interrupted him. \"A better question is how did you get here?\"\n\n\"We brought our commander... Voivode Bronibor... He's hurt... '\n\n\"But so are you! Show me your hand! Goddess! You're bleeding to death! '\n\nJarre stared at herm but Iola suddenly began to wonder if he was seeing anything.\n\n\"There was a battle,\" said the boy, his teeth chattering. \"We must stand like a wall... firmly in the ranks... It was easier to carry the wounded to a military hospital... The severely wounded. Orders.\"\n\n\"Show me your hand.\"\n\nJarre gave a short cry, his teeth chatter as if in fever. Iola frowned.\n\n\"It looks bad... Jarre, Jarre... Mother Nenneke will be angry... Come with me.\"\n\nShe saw him pale when he entered the tent. When he smelt the stench. He staggered. She steadied him. She saw him staring at the bloody table. At the man who lay there. At the surgeon, the little halfling who jumped suddenly, stomped his feet, cursed, swore and hurled his scalpel to the ground.\n\n\"What the hell! Fuck! Why? Why?\"\n\nNobody answered the question.\n\n\"Who was that?\"\n\n\"Voivode Bronibor,\" Jarre said in a weak voice, looking straight ahead, his eyes blank. \"Our commander... We stood infirm ranks. Order. Like a wall. And Melfi killed...\"\n\n\"Mister Rusty,\" Iola said. \"This man is a friend of mine... He is hurt...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"He is still on his feet,\" the surgeon said coolly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And this is expecting a trepanation. There is no room for favoritism...\"\n\nAt this point, Jarre with great sensitivity dramatically fainted and fell to the floor. The halfling snorted irritably.\n\n\"Well, well, get him on the table,\" he commanded. \"Ah, his hand. I wonder what is holding it on? Probably his sleeve. Iola, tourniquet. Harder! Do not dare cry here! Shani, give me the saw!\"\n\nWith a sickening screech the saw bit into the crushed bones of the elbow joint. Jarre woke up and shouted. Awfully, shrilly– but briefly. Once the bone gave way, he immediately fainted again.\n\nAnd so the power of Nilfgaard lay in the dirt and dust of the fields of Brenna, and the march north by the Empire was laid to an end. The losses for the Empire amounted to forty-thousand killed and captured men. The foundation of Elite Knights fell. They died in captivity or went missing without a trace like such as the leaders, Menno Coehoorn, Braibant, de Mellis-Stoke, van Lo, Tyrconnel, Eggebracht and others, whose names have not been preserved in our archives.\n\nBrenna was indeed the beginning of the end. But it is worth writing that this battle would have been a small stone in the building and its importance would have been small if the fruits of victory had not been used wisely. Constable John Natalis did not rest on his laurels, but immediately went to the south. An unexpected counterattack led by Adam Pangratt and Julia Abatemarco surprised two divisions of the Third Army which were running late to relieve Coehoorn, and were routed nec nuntius cladis. At this new the rest of the Center Group Army crossed shamefully back over the Yaruga and escaped in a hurry, and Foltest and Natalis followed on their heels. The Imperials lost their baggage train and all their siege engines which they planned to use to conquer Vizima, Gors Velen and Novigrad." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Like an avalanche rolling down from the mountains into the valley that collects more and more snow and gains power, so did the consequences of the Battle of Brenna provide more damage to the Nilfgaardians. The Verden Group Army was heavily afflicted by pirate raids\n\nand attacks from Skellige and King Ethain from Cidaris. When Commander Duke de Wett learned of the disaster at Brenna and the news reached him that Foltest and John Natalis had ordered a forced march, he immediately sounded a retreat and in panic fled across the river to Cintra and escaping significant losses to his troops, because word had gotten around about Nilfgaard's defeat and anew rebellion was rising in force in Verden. Only troops remained in the forts of Nastrog, Rozrog and Bodrog and after the Peace of Cintra they emerged with honor with banners aloft.\n\nMeanwhile, in Aedirn, the news of what happen at Brenna caused the antagonized Kings Demavend and Henselt to join together in arms against Nilfgaard's East Group Army, which was led by Duke Ardal aep Dahy into the Pontar valley, unable to resist the combined forces of the two kings. With the addition of the strength of the troops from Redania and the guerrilla squads of Queen Meve, who undertook combat actions in the rear of the enemy, they forced Nilfgaard to Aldersberg. Ardal aep Dahy prepared for battle, but due to fate he suddenly became serious ill, perhaps from spoiled food he got colic and diarrhea and two days later died in pain. Demavend and Henselt, without waiting, launched an attack against Nilfgaard in Aldersberg, surely because of historical justice, Nilfgaard suffered a heavy defeat, though they still had numerical superiority. But daring, spirit and technique won out over blind, brute force." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It is necessary to mention one other thing– namely that it is still unknown what happening at Brenna to Menno Coehoorn. Some believe that he fell with his soldiers and his remains, unrecognized were laid to rest in a common grave. Others speculate that he escaped, but from fear of the Imperial wrath never returned to Nilfgaard, but instead resorted to the Dryads in Brokilon and became a hermit in the forest. In remorse he lived for years in seclusion and separation and eventually died.\n\nAmong ordinary people circulated the rumor that the famous Marshal in the night after the battle returned to the field at Brenna and could not stand looking at the tragedy and hanged himself from a aspen on a hill, which from that time on was called Gallows. At night it is said that his spirit wanders the battlefield, lamenting and crying out \"Give me back my legions!\" .\n\n\"Grandpa Jarre! Grandpa Jarre!\"\n\nJarre looked up from the paper and pushed his glasses further upon his nose.\n\n\"Grandpa Jarre!\" screamed the high pitched voice of his youngest granddaughter, a bright and lively six year old, which, thank the gods, looked like her mother, Jarre's daughter and not his son-in-law.\n\n\"Grandpa Jarre! Granma Lucienne told me to tell you that is enough writing for today and that dinner is on the table!\"\n\nJarre carefully place the reams of paper and put the cork into the inkwell. The stump of his hand throbbed with pain. The weather is changing, he thought, it's going to rain.\n\n\"Grandpa Jarreeeeee!\"\n\n\"I'm coming, Ciri. I'm coming.\"\n\nBefore he was finished with the last of the wounded it was already past midnight. The last operation was performed under artificial light-lamps, candles and also magic. Marti Södergren regained consciousness after overcoming her crisis and though deadly pale, stiff and unnatural in her movements, like a golem, she effectively performed spells." }, { "from": "human", "value": "It was dark when they left the tent, the four of them laid flat on some canvas." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The meadow was full of fires. Various fires-fires of campers, unstable fires, torches and\n\nfirebrands. Through the night sounds resounded through the air, shouting matches, singing, chanting and cheering.\n\nThe night was alive around them too with disjointed cries and the groans of the wounded. Supplications and sighs of the dying. They did not hear any of it. They were used to the sounds of suffering and dying, to them the sounds were ordinary, natural and blended into the night with the croaking of the frogs in the marshes by the River Cholta or the cicadas chirping by Golden Pond.\n\nMarti Södergren was silent, leaning on the shoulder of the halfling. Iola and Shani, hugging, tightly, occasionally issued a laugh at something completely stupid. They all sat next to the tent, each drank a glass of vodka and Marti delighted everyone was one last spell-an intoxicating spell, usually used for tooth extraction.\n\nRusty felt cheated the treatment-the drink that was bound by magic, rather than relax him, or reducing his weariness, it intensified it. Instead of granting oblivion, it reminded him. It seemed that the magical alcohol affected only Iola and Shani as it should.\n\nHe turned and saw the moonlight on the faces of the two girls, bright and silvery with tears.\n\n\"I wonder,\" he said licking his dry and callous lips, \"who has won the battle. Does anyone know?\"\n\nMarti turned to face him, but remained silent.\n\nThe cicadas sang among the willows and alders by the pond, the frogs croaked, the wounded wailed, prayed and sighed. And died. Iola and Shani laughed amongst their tears." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Marti Södergren died two weeks after the battle." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She had an affair with an officer of the condottieri Free Company. She tried this adventure as something temporary. Unlike the officer. When Marti, who liked changes, became involved with a cavalry officer, the condottiere, mad with jealousy, stabbed her. He hung for it, but they were unable to save the healer.\n\nRusty and Iola died a year after the battle, in Maribor, the biggest explosion of the epidemic hemorrhagic fever, also known as the Scarlet Death, or-from the name of the ship which it was imported from-The Catriona Plague.\n\nAll the doctors and most of the priests hurried to Maribor, along with Rusty and Iola. To heal because they were doctors. The fact that there was no cure for the Scarlet Death did not matter to them. Both were infected. He died in her arms, the strong, confident grip of her large, ugly, peasant hands. She died four days later. Alone.\n\nShani died seventy-two years after the battle as a famous and respected retired professor of medicine at the University of Oxenfurt. Future generations of surgeons repeated her famous quote-\"Sew red with red, yellow with yellow and white with white. And everything will be all right\".\n\nHardly anyone noticed, after delivering this quote she always secretly wiped away tears.\n\nHardly anyone.\n\nFrogs croaked, cicadas buzzed, Iola and Shani giggled and cried.\n\n\"I wonder,\" repeated Milo Vanderbeck, a halfling, afield surgeon, known as Rusty. \"I wonder who won the battle?\"\n\n\"Rusty,\" said Marti Södergren. \"This is really the last thing I'd be interested in your place. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Some of the flames were high and strong, shining brightly and vividly, while others were small, shaky and trembling, and the flames darkened and they sank. At the end of the row was a tiny flame, one so weak that it was barely smoldering, barely alight and then it shimmered with great effort and almost extinguished.\n\n\"Whose is that dying light?\" asked the witcher.\n\n\"Yours,\" said Death.\n\nFlourens Delannoy\n\nFairytales and Stories\n\nThe plateau, whose far end was bathed in fog at the foot of a giant mountain, resembled a stone sea. It rippled forming mounds and curling crests that looked like the sharp teeth of a reef. The wreckage of ships contributed to that feeling. There were dozens of wrecks. The remnants of galleys, caravels and longships. Some gave the impression of only being here a short time, while others were no more than a few piles of boards and ribs and were hardly recognizable and had certainly been therefor decades, if not centuries.\n\nSome ships were overturned and others were tipped on their sides and looked like they had been washed hereby an immense storm or hurricane. Other ships gave the impression that they were still sailing the ocean. They stood straight, wedged between rocks, their masts towered proudly into the sky and the spars still flapped with ragged sails. They even had a ghostly crew– stuck in the rotten planks and tangled in the ropes where skeletons of dead sailors sentenced to an eternal voyage.\n\nAlarmed by the appearance of a rider and frightened by the sound of pounding hooves, from the masts, yards, ropes and skeletons broke swarms of blackbirds, cawing. The flock circled fora moment over the edge of the abyss, at the bottom of which lay a lake, gray and smooth as mercury. On the cliff, towering over the plain of wrecks, half hanging over the lake, embedded in cliff was a dark, gloomy castle." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kelpie recoiled, snorted, laid her ears back and looks suspiciously at the remains of the ships, skeleton and the whole landscape of death. The blackbirds had returned and once again settled on the broken masts, spars, bones, skulls and broken decks. The birds knew that they did not need to worry about one lone rider.\n\n\"Easy, Kelpie,\" Ciri said. \"This is the end of the road. This is the right place and the right time.\"\n\nShe appeared before the walls from nowhere, as if the wind blew her from the plain of ghostly wrecks. The sentries standing guard at the gate were the first to detect her presence, alerted by the cries of the jackdaws. Now they were shouting and gesticulating, pointing their fingers and calling to their comrades.\n\nWhen she arrived at the gate, there was already a crowd. Everyone stared down at her– the few who knew her or had seen her before, like Boreas Mun and Dacre Silifant, were greatly outnumbered by those who had only heard about her, those newly recruited by Skellen, mercenaries and common ravagers from Ebbing and the surrounding areas, who now looked down in amazement at the girl with the scar on her face and the sword on her back. The beautiful, black mare raised its head high, snorting and restlessly ringing its shoes on the cobblestones of the courtyard.\n\nThe murmuring ceased. There was almost complete silence. The mare lifted her legs like a dancer; her shoes rang like a hammer on an anvil. It took along time before the men crossed their path. One of them with a hesitant and frightened movement, reached out to grasp the reins. The mare snorted.\n\n\"Take me,\" the girl said loudly, \"to the master of this castle.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Boreas Mun himself did not know why he did it, but he held her stirrup and offered his arm. The other men held the snorting and struggling mare.\n\n\"Do you recognize me, maiden?\" Boreas said quietly. \"We have met.\"\n\n\"Where?\"\n\n\"On the ice.\"\n\nShe looked him directly in the eyes.\n\n\"I did not notice your faces,\" she said impassively.\n\n\"You were the Lady of the Lake,\" he nodded his head very seriously. \"Why have you come here, girl?\"\n\n\"Why? For Yennefer. And my destiny.\"\n\n\"Rather for your death,\" he whispered. \"This is the castle Stygga. In your place, I would quickly flee. Perhaps there is still time.\"\n\nShe looked at him again. Boreas realized what that look meant.\n\nStefan Skellen appeared. He looked at the girl fora longtime with his arms crossed. Finally he gestured vigorously for her to follow him. She went without a word, escorted on all sides my armed men.\n\n\"A strange girl,\" Boreas said through clenched teeth, shivering.\n\n\"Fortunately, she's not our problem, \"Dacre Silifant said scathingly.\"I'm surprised you talked to her. That witch killed Vargas and Fripp and Ola Harsheim...\"\n\n\"The Owl killed Ola Harsheim,\" Boreas cut him off, \"not here. She spared our lives on the ice, but she could have slaughtered us all like puppies. All of us. Even the Owl.\"\n\n\"Look at her,\" Dacre spat on the cobblestones. \"She'll be rewarded for her mercy, by the sorcerer and Bonhart. You'll see, Boreas, what they'll do to her. Remove all her skin while she is alive, in thin strips. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"That's certain, \"Boreas grumbled.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Because they are scoundrels. And we are no better, because we are in their service. '\n\n\"Did we have any other choice? No.\"\n\nSuddenly, one of Skellen's mercenaries screamed, then another. Someone cursed and sighed. Another pointed silently.\n\nOn the battlements, the corbels, the roofs, towers, parapets, gutters and gargoyles were covered as far as the eye could see in blackbirds. Quietly, without a squawk they came from the wrecked shipyard and now quietly, without a sound, sat and waited.\n\n\"They sense death,\" muttered one of the mercenaries.\n\n\"And carrion,\" added another.\n\n\"We had no choice,\" Silifant repeated mechanically looking at Boreas.\n\nBoreas looked at the birds.\n\n\"Maybe it's time, \"he replied quietly,\"to find one. '\n\nThey climbed a wide staircase with three landings, passing a row of statues set in niches along a corridor, pasta gallery and that surrounded a hall. Ciri walked boldly, without fear, neither frightened by the weapons or the escort. She lied when she said she did not remember the faces of the people from the frozen lake. She remembered. She remembered how Stefan Skellen, the one who was now leading her through the gloomy corridors of the castle, shivered and chattered his teeth on the ice.\n\nNow, when he looked back at her his eyes searing, she felt that he was still afraid. She sighed with relief.\n\nThey entered a hall, high pillars supported the ribbed vault and large chandeliers hung from the roof like giant spiders. Ciri saw who was waiting therefor her, Fear dug into her bowls like an iceberg, clenching it into a fist and twisting." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Bonhart in three steps was in front of her." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With both hands he grabbed her blouse, lifted her off the ground and pulled her in tightly before his pale, fish eyes.\n\n\"Hell, he wheezed,\"must be really terrible if you prefer me. '\n\nShe did not answer. She smelt alcohol on his breath.\n\n\"Or maybe hell did not want you, you little beast. The devil's tower spit you out, in disgust after tasting your poison. '\n\nHe pulled her closer. She turned away from his face in disgust.\n\n\"You're afraid, \"he gurgled.\"Rightly afraid. Here is the end of your journey. You'll not getaway. Herein this castle, we will release the blood from your veins.\"\n\n\"Finished, Mister Bonhart?\"\n\nShe immediately recognized the voice that spoke. It was Vilgefortz, the wizard with whom she had met twice on the island of Thanedd. The first time while he was a prisoner in chains, and again when he followed her to the Tower of the Gulls. Then on the island, he had been very handsome. Now his face had changed, something had made him deformed and awful.\n\n\"Excuse me, Mister Bonhart,\" the sorcerer did not move from his throne-like chair, \"it is I, the lord of castle Stygga who should assume the pleasant task of welcoming our guest, the maiden Cirilla of Cintra, Pavetta's daughter, Calanthe's granddaughter and descendant of Lara Dorren aep Shiadhal. Be welcome. Come closer, please.\"\n\nThe last words were not spoken under a mask of courtesy and ridicule. They were only threat and order. Ciri immediately felt that she would not be able to resist this command. She felt fear. Terrible fear." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Closer,\" hissed Vilgefortz.\n\nNow she could see what had happened to his face. The left eye was significantly smaller than the right, blinking and squinting in a wrinkled eye socket. His gaze was terrible.\n\n\"The posture of the brave with a trace of fear in her face,\" the wizard said, cocking his head. \"You have my appreciation. If your courage does not come from stupidity. Immediately dispel any fantasies. As Bonhart has said, there is no escape. Either by teleport or with your special abilities.\"\n\nShe knew he was right. Earlier, she had told herself that even in the last moment she could run and hide among the times and places. Now she knew that this hope was just an illusion, a fantasy. The castle vibrated with hostile, alien magic, magic that penetrated her like a parasite crawling in her belly and her brain. There was nothing she could do. She was in the enemies hands. Powerless.\n\nIt cannot be helped, she thought, I knew what I was doing. I knew why I had to come here. The other reasons were just false hope. Whatever will happen, will happen.\n\n\"Good,\" said Vilgefortz. \"A proper assessment of the situation. Whatever will happen, will happen. More precisely– It will be, as I decide. I wonder if you can guess, what I will decide.\"\n\nShe tried to answer, but before she could overcome the resistance in her shrunken and dried throat, Vilgefortz probed her thoughts and again and interrupted.\n\n\"Of course you do, Lady of the Worlds. Lady of time and space. Yes, yes, my wonderful, I am not surprised by your visit. I know where you ran away to from the lake, and know what you have done. I know how you got here. The only thing I don't know is if your journey was long. Or the number of experiences delivered. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Again with a malicious smile her cut her off.\n\n\"Oh, no need to respond. I know it was very interesting and exciting. I'm anxious to try it also. You do not know how I envy that talent of yours. I'll need you to share it with me, my wonderful. Yes, \"need\" is the right word. Until you share with me your talent, I will not let you out of my hands.\n\nCiri finally realized that it was not only fear gripping her throat. The sorcerer magically throttled and strangled her. He mocked her and humiliated her, before the eyes of his followers.\n\n\"Free... Yennefer,\" she managed to get out, coughing with the effort. \"Free her... And you can do whatever you want with me.\"\n\nBonhart burst out laughing, Stefan Skellen also started to laugh dryly. Vilgefortz poke at the corner of his macabre eye with his little finger.\n\n\"You cannot be so foolish as to think that, and so you will do what I want. Your offer is pathetic, so pathetic and ridiculous.\"\n\n\"You need me...\" she lifted her head, though it cost her a lot of strength. \"To have a child with me. Everybody wants that, you do too. Yes, I am in your power, I came hereon my own... You did not catch me, though you chased me halfway around the world. I came hereon my own and I give myself to you. For Yennefer. For her life. Does this seem ridiculous? Then try to take me by force, take me the hard way... You'll see how fast you lose the urge to laugh. '\n\nBonhart stood beside her in a jump, threatening her with a whip. Vilgefortz nodded almost imperceptibly, and slightly movement of his hand, but it was enough to knock the whip from the hand of the bounty hunter, and he stumbled like he had been hit by a wagon full of coal." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Mister Bonhart,\" Vilgefortz said, rubbing his fingers. \"I noticed you still have difficulty adapting to the duties of being my guest. Try to remember that my guests my destroy furniture and artwork, steal small valuables and dirty the carpets and facility chambers. They cannot beat or rape other guests. The last, at least until the host has finished beating and raping and signs that you can begin. From what I've just said, you should be able to draw the right conclusions. As to you Ciri, I'll help you. You delivered yourself tome humbly and think that I'll do everything you please. And you think this is an extremely generous offer. You are wrong, because it is I who will do what I please with you. For example, I would, byway of revenge for Thanedd, like to take at least one of your eyes, but I cannot, because I'm afraid that you would not survive.\"\n\nNow or never, Ciri thought. She turned around and drew her sword, Swallow. Suddenly, the whole room began to spin, she fell and badly hither knees. She lowered her forehead, almost touching the floor, struggling with the emetic reflex. The sword slipped from her numb fingers.\n\nSomeone picked it up.\n\n\"Now,\" Vilgefortz drawled, leaning his chin on his folded hands as if in prayer. \"Where was I? Oh, yes, right, your offer. Life and freedom for your Yennefer... For what? For you voluntary surrender, willingly, without violence and coercion? I'm sorry, Ciri. What I need to do to you, without violence and coercion I simply cannot do. '\n\nHe watched with interest as the girl coughed, wheezed and spat thick saliva to prevent vomiting.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" he continued. \"That's what I'll do with you, you'll never surrender willingly, I assure you. And that is why your offer is not only pathetic and ridiculous, but also worthless. For this reason, I reject it. Grab her and take her to the lab! '" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Continue the tale as the plot helper for the writer.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 10" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Mister Bonhart,\" Vilgefortz said, rubbing his fingers. \"I noticed you still have difficulty adapting to the duties of being my guest. Try to remember that my guests my destroy furniture and artwork, steal small valuables and dirty the carpets and facility chambers. They cannot beat or rape other guests. The last, at least until the host has finished beating and raping and signs that you can begin. From what I've just said, you should be able to draw the right conclusions. As to you Ciri, I'll help you. You delivered yourself tome humbly and think that I'll do everything you please. And you think this is an extremely generous offer. You are wrong, because it is I who will do what I please with you. For example, I would, byway of revenge for Thanedd, like to take at least one of your eyes, but I cannot, because I'm afraid that you would not survive.\"\n\nNow or never, Ciri thought. She turned around and drew her sword, Swallow. Suddenly, the whole room began to spin, she fell and badly hither knees. She lowered her forehead, almost touching the floor, struggling with the emetic reflex. The sword slipped from her numb fingers.\n\nSomeone picked it up.\n\n\"Now,\" Vilgefortz drawled, leaning his chin on his folded hands as if in prayer. \"Where was I? Oh, yes, right, your offer. Life and freedom for your Yennefer... For what? For you voluntary surrender, willingly, without violence and coercion? I'm sorry, Ciri. What I need to do to you, without violence and coercion I simply cannot do. '\n\nHe watched with interest as the girl coughed, wheezed and spat thick saliva to prevent vomiting.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" he continued. \"That's what I'll do with you, you'll never surrender willingly, I assure you. And that is why your offer is not only pathetic and ridiculous, but also worthless. For this reason, I reject it. Grab her and take her to the lab! '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Laboratory was not much different from the one that Ciri knew of at the temple of Melitele in Ellander." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was brightly lit, clean, equipped with long tables with metal plates and shelves full of glass– flasks, test tubes, retorts, bowls and all sorts of other gadgets.\n\nAs in Ellander it also smelled strongly of alcohol, ether, formalin and something else, something that inspired terror. Even there, in the friendly temple, opposite the friendly priestess Nenneke and Yennefer, Ciri felt fear in the laboratory. And there, in Ellander, no one dragged her into the lab by violence; nobody held her arms in an iron grip. There, in Ellander, was no steel chair, whose shape was sadistically quite obvious. There were no white-dressed and clean-shaven-headed types, no Bonhart, no Skellen, excitedly licking his lips. Nor were there Vilgefortz, with one good eye and one unnaturally small and terribly busy.\n\nVilgefortz turned away from the table where he had been arranging terrible instruments fora longtime.\n\n\"You see, my wonderful,\" he began, approaching her, \"you are for me the key to power and dominance. Not only in this world, which is doomed anyway, but overall worlds. Over the myriad of places and times that arose after the conjunction. Surely you understand, because you yourself visited some of these places and times.\"\n\nSlowly he rolled up his sleeves and continued.\n\n\"I'm ashamed to admit, but I'm terribly attracted to power. It's trivial, I know, but I want to be a ruler. A Sovereign, before who all will fall on this face and glorify him only because he exists, and worship as a god, if he deign to save their world from destruction– even if it is done on a whim. Oh, Ciri, my heart rejoices when I think about how I will generously reward the faithful and how I will cruelly punish the disobedient and rebellious. Whole generations will pray tome and beg me for pardon, mercy and forgiveness. Generations of whole worlds. Listen, Ciri. Do you hear those prayers? Protect us from famine, plague, fire, was and your wrath, O Almighty Vilgefortz... '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He wiggled his fingers in front of her eyes and suddenly grabbed her face violently. Ciri cried out and tried to escape, but he held her firmly. Her lips trembled. Vilgefortz saw this.\n\n\"Child of Destiny,\" he laughed and from the corners of his mouth dripped foam. \"Aen Hen Ichaer, the Elder Blood... is now all mine!\"\n\nHe straightened abruptly and wiped his mouth.\n\n\"Fools and mystics,\" he said in his usual calm tone, \"tried to find the secret of your existence in ancient legends and prophecies, in your genealogy they searched for the origins of your gene– a legacy of their ancestors. They have confused the night sky with the stars reflected on the surface of the water. The mystics believed that the gene would continue to develop, thanks to the evolution of new possibilities and achieve greater power in your child or in your child's child. And around you grew a magical aura enveloping you in clouds of smoke from incense. They truth is, however, trivial, one might say organic– the important thing here is your blood. But in the literal sense, not the figurative sense of the word. '\n\nHe raised a glass syringe from the table about a half foot long. It ended in a thin, slightly curved point. Ciri felt her mouth go dry. The sorcerer examined the instrument in the light of a lamp.\n\n\"My assistance will help you undress and get you settled in the chair... Yes, that chair which you have been so curiously eyeing. You will have to remain for sometime in a rather uncomfortable position, until I use this tool to inseminate you. It will not be so bad, during the whole procedure you'll be under the influence of powerful elixirs that I will be injecting to ensure the proper implantation of the egg and to prevent an ectopic pregnancy. Don't worry, I've had experience, I've done it a hundred times. You maybe a child of the Elder Blood, but I do not suppose that your fallopian tubes are somehow anatomically different from the tubes of ordinary girls.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Vilgefortz talked and talked, obviously relishing in his own words.\n\n'And now for the most important thing, you maybe upset, you maybe happy, but know that your child will not be born. Who knows, maybe it would have been a great chosen one\n\nwith extraordinary abilities, the savior of the world and the king of all the nations. However, no one can guarantee this and besides I do not intent to wait that long. I need blood. More specifically, placental blood. Once you have developed a placenta, I'll remove it. The rest of my plans and intentions, as you can understand, do not concern you, so there is no use in giving you useless information.\"\n\nHe made a theatrical pause. Ciri could not stop her lips from trembling.\n\n\"And now,\" the wizard gestured with a flourish, \"I invite you to your chair, princess.\"\n\n\"It would be worth it,\" Bonhart sneered under his grey moustache, \"to seethe look on that bitch, Yennefer's face. She deserves it. '\n\n\"Of course,\" Vilgefortz wiped bubbly foam from his lips again. \"Fertilization is a sacred, noble and solemn affair, in which the family should assist. And Yennefer is something like a mother to her. In all primitive cultures, mothers of the bride are present at this ritual. Quickly bring Yennefer here!\"\n\n\"With regard to the fertilization,\" Bonhart said bending over Ciri, who the sorcerer's minions had already started to undress,\"would it not be possible to do it the old, proven way, Lord Vilgefortz? In accordance with nature? '\n\nSkellen snorted and shook his head. Vilgefortz frowned." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No,\" he said frostily. \"It is not, Bonhart.\"\n\nCiri, as if only now realizing the seriousness of the situation, cried shrilly. Once, twice.\n\n\"Well, well,\" the sorcerer clicked. \"With head held high and a direct gaze you entered the lion's den, my dear, and now you are afraid of a thin glass tube. That's a shame.\"\n\nCiri ignored his admonitions and screamed until the laboratory glassware rattled.\n\nAnd suddenly the whole of castle Stygga responded with cries of alarm.\n\n\"Woe to us,\" said Zadarlik scrapping a spear through the manure between the stones in the courtyard. \"Woe, woe.\"\n\nHe looked at his companions, but none of the guards were saying anything. Nor was Boreas Mun, who had stayed with the guards at the gate. By his own will, because he had not been ordered to stay. He could have gone with the Owl like Silifant, could have seen with his own eyes what was going to happen to the Lady of the Lake and what fate awaited her. But he preferred to stay in the yard, in the open, away from the rooms and halls of the keep, where they had led the girl. He was sure her screams wouldn't reach here.\n\n\"Those blackbirds are an evil sign,\" Zadarlik pointed to the jackdaws sitting on the walls and roofs. \"I get a bad feeling from the girl who came in on the black mare. This is ugly business serving the Owl, I tell you. Rumor has it that the Owl is no longer the imperial coroner, but an outlaw like us. That the Emperor has sentenced him to death. And when he is picked up, woe to all who are with him. Woe to us.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ay, ay,\" said a second guard, a bearded man in a hat decorated with feathers. \"The stake awaits us! Not even the gods can stand before the imperial wrath.\"\n\n\"Do not worry,\" a third guard casually waved his hand, who had only come to castle Stygga recently with the last group of mercenaries. \"The Emperor will not care about us, he has other worries. There is talk of a battle somewhere in the north. The Nordlings killed the Imperials, bled them properly.\"\n\n\"In such a case,\" said another, \"it is good after all that we hold to the sorcerer and the Owl. Our kind are always better off with someone who has the upper hand.\"\n\n\"Sure,\" said the newcomer. \"The Owl is the future. And we'll go up with him. '\n\n\"You idiot,\" said Zadarlik. \"Do you have sawdust in your head?\"\n\nThe blackbirds took flight. The flapping and squawking were deafening. They darkened the sky and began to circle the castle.\n\n\"What the devil?\" yelled one of the guards.\n\n\"Open the gate please.\"\n\nBoreas Mun suddenly noticed a strong smell of herbs– mint, sage and thyme. He swallowed and shook his head. He closed his eyes and opened them again. In vain. A skinny man, who looked like grizzled-looking tax collector, stood by his side and did not disappear. He stood smiling with his mouth closed. Boreas felt his hair standing on end, nearly lifting his cap.\n\n\"Open the gate, please,\" repeated the smiling man. \"Immediately. Believe me; it will be better for you.\"\n\nZadarlik dropped his spear which clattered on the ground. He stood frozen, his lips moving wordlessly. His eyes were empty. The others headed for the gate. They walked like unnaturally stiff puppets. They lifted the latch and opened both doors. Into the courtyard rode four riders." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One had hair as white as driven snow and a sword in his hands which flickered like lightning. Behind him rode a blond woman who was drawing a bowstring. The third was a pretty young girl with a crooked sabre with which she slashed at Zadarlik.\n\nBoreas Mun picked up the dropped spear and raised it over his head. The fourth horseman loomed over him like a mountain. On his helmet stretched the wings of a bird of prey. His raised sword glistened.\n\n\"Leave him, Cahir,\" the white-haired man said sharply. \"Save time and blood. Milva, Regis, this way...\"\n\n\"No, not that way,\" Boreas said, not knowing why he did so. \"Not that way... That way leads to a blind barbican. You have to go up the stairs to the top of the castle. If you want to save the Lady of the Lake... You must hurry...\"\n\n\"Thank you,\" said the white-haired man. \"Thank you, stranger. Regis, did you hear? Lead the way!\"\n\nAfter a moment there were just dead bodies in the courtyard. And Boreas Mun, still leaning on his spear. He could not release it. His legs were trembling. The jackdaws circling above castle Stygga were squawking and enveloped the towers and bastions like a black cloud.\n\nVilgefortz listened to the report of the mercenary who had rushed in breathlessly, with a stoic and calm face. But his restless and blinking eye betrayed him.\n\n\"Coming to her aid in the last minute,\" he said grinding his teeth, \"I do not believe it. These things do not happen. Or only come to pass in bad plays in little theatres. Make me happy, my good man; tell me it is all a joke.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have not made anything up,\" the mercenary said indignantly. \"I'm telling the truth! A few people have broken... A whole gang... '\n\n\"Okay, okay,\" the wizard interrupted. \"It was a joke, Skellen, personally take care of this matter. You will have the opportunity to show me how much your army is really worth that you hired with my gold.\"\n\nThe Owl jumped up and waved his arms nervously.\n\n\"Do not take this lightly, Vilgefortz,\" he shouted. \"It seems you do not understand what threatens us! If someone is attacking the castle, they can only be Emhyr's people! And that means... '\n\n\"It does not mean anything,\" the sorcerer did not let him finish. \"But I know what you're doing. If my presence gives you courage, then you can stand behind my back. Let's go! That goes for you too, Bonhart!\"\n\nThen he turned his terrible eyes on Ciri.\n\n\"As for you, forget your pointless hope. I know well, who has so unexpectedly appeared in a theatrical attempt to save you. I assure you that I will convert this farce into a scene of horror. Hey, you!\" He motioned for one of his minions. \"Put the girl in dimeritium, shut her in a cell with three bolts and do not open the door. Or it is your head. Got it?\"\n\n\"As you command, my Lord.\"\n\nThe entered a corridor, the corridor came to a large room filled with sculptures, areal lapidarian. Nobody was in the room, just a few servants that fled at the sight of them.\n\nThey race down a flight of stairs. Cahir kicked down a door. Angouleme burst into the room with a war cry, her sabre knocking the helmet from an empty suit of armor that she had taken fora sentry by the door. When she realized her mistake, she broke out laughing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Heh, heh, heh. Look...\"\n\n\"Angouleme!\" Geralt shouted. \"Don't just stand there! Continue! '\n\nOpposite them was a door, beyond which they perceived silhouettes. Milva without thinking twice, tensed her bow and shot an arrow. Someone screamed and the door crashed shut. Geralt heard the sound of a bolt sliding home.\n\n\"Come on, come on!\" he shouted. \"There is no time to waste!\"\n\n\"Witcher,\" Regis said. \"It makes no sense in running around blindly. I'll... I'll make a reconnaissance flight.\"\n\n\"Fly.\"\n\nThe vampire disappeared, as if the wind had carried him away. Geralt had no time to marvel.\n\nAgain they met men, armed this time. Cahir and Angouleme rushed towards them shouting, but their opponents ran. More than anything, it seemed, thanks to Cahir's imposing winged helmet.\n\nThey ran into a gallery surrounding an inner lobby. The door on the opposite side of the gallery was scarcely twenty paces away when the walkway on the opposite side was swarmed with people. Cries echoed. And arrows hissed.\n\n\"Take cover,\" cried the witcher.\n\nArrows fell like a veritable hailstorm. The feathers hummed and the tips tore into the pavement raising sparks, and reduced the stucco walls to a fine powder.\n\n\"Get down! Over the railing!\"\n\nThey fell to the ground, each with cover, behind decorative columns with carved floral motifs. However, not without injury. The witcher heard Angouleme scream. He turned and saw that she was holding her arm. From her sleeve blood was seeping." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Angouleme!\"\n\n\"It's nothing! The arrow pierced me cleanly! ' the girl said, her voice trembling slightly, confirming what he had seen. If the tip had chipped a bone, Angouleme would have fainted from shock.\n\nThe archers, launching their arrows from the end of the gallery, called for reinforcements. Some ran around the sides, looking for better shooting angles. Geralt cursed and calculated the distance to the archway. It did not look good. But staying where they were meant death.\n\n\"We have to get the hell out of here!\" he shouted. \"Listen up! Cahir, help Angouleme!\"\n\n\"They are going to mow us down!\"\n\n\"We have to go! There is no choice!\"\n\n\"No!\" Milva exclaimed, rising with her bow in hand. She stood up and took a firing position. She looked like a statue, a marble Amazon with her bow. The archers in the gallery shouted.\n\nMilva released the bowstring.\n\nOne of the archers flew backwards and smashed against the wall, and where he slumped to the ground, the red spot splashed to the plaster resembled an octopus. From around the gallery sounded a cry, a roar of anger, rage and horror.\n\n\"The Great Sun...\" Cahir whistled. Geralt squeezed his arm.\n\n\"Let's go! Help Angouleme! '\n\nFrom the gallery, a shower of arrows fell upon Milva. The archer did not flinch when one arrow showered her in a cloud of plaster dust, or jump when marble fragments shattered around her. She quietly released the bowstring. Anew cry and another archer collapsed like a puppet, spraying his fellows with brains and blood.\n\n\"Now!\" Geralt cried, watching the guards flee from the gallery, and fall to the floor, taking cover from the incoming missiles." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Only the three bravest returned fire." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "An arrow hit the wall and dusted Milva's hair in lime powder. The archer blew a strand of hair from her eyes and readied her bow.\n\n\"Milva,\" Geralt called after Cahir and Angouleme had run to safety. \"Enough! Run!\"\n\n\"Just one more,\" said the archer, with the feather of the arrow at the corner of her mouth.\n\nThe bowstring hummed. One of the brave three screamed in pain, leaned over the rail and fell against the pavement of the patio. Seeing this, the other two faltered. They fell to the ground and huddled. Those who were rushing into the gallery were apparently reluctant and stayed in safe shelter from Milva's arrows.\n\nWith one exception.\n\nMilva evaluated him on sight. Not very tall, dark complexion, brunette. With a glossy protector on his left forearm and a glove on his right hand. The girl saw that his compound bow was beautifully crafted, with a fitted handle and a curved staff as it tightened smoothly. She could she how tense the chord was as it crossed his swarthy face, she saw the arrow's feathers touch his cheek. She saw that he measured exactly.\n\nMilva readied her bow, strung it deftly, and aimed. The string came up to her face, one of the feathers grazed the corner of her mouth.\n\n\"Harder, harder, Maria, to the mouth. Move your fingers on the bowstring so the arrow does not come loose from the notch. Let your hand rest on your jaw. Aim! Both eyes open! Hold your breath! Shoot!\"\n\nThe bowstring, despite her protector, painfully bit into her left forearm.\n\nHer father wanted to say something, but fell into a fit of coughing-dry, crisp, torturous. The cough was getting worse, thought Maria Barring as she lowered the bow. Worse and more often. He coughed yesterday, just as I aimed at a deer. And for lunch we had boiled cabbage. I hate boiled cabbage. I hate being hungry. And misery." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The older Barring gasped and wheezed harshly.\n\n\"You hit an inch from the center, oaf! A whole inch! I told you not to move or drop the bow! And you sit there wiggling as if someone had put a snail in your ass. And you spend too long aiming. You'll get weary hands, just shoot! Or you'll keep wasting arrows!\"\n\n\"I hit it! And not a whole inch, but barely half a span from the center!\"\n\n\"Do not argue! The gods punished me when they sent me you instead of a son and moreover, awkward as a boob!\"\n\n\"I'm not a boob! '\n\n\"Well, show me. Shoot again. And learn from what I've said. No wiggling, like you're stuck in the ground. Aim and shoot without hesitation. Why are you crying?\"\n\n\"Because you scrutinize me.\"\n\n\"It's a father's right. Shoot.\"\n\nShe tightened the bow. She was crying. He saw it.\n\n\"I love you Maria,\" he said softly. \"Never forget that.\"\n\nShe let goof the string, the feathers barely touched the corner of her mouth.\n\nGood, \"said her father.\"Good, my daughter. '\n\nHe began to cough in a terrible, rattling way.\n\nThe black archer was killed on the spot. Milva's arrow struck him under the left arm and penetrated deeply, more than halfway down the shaft, shattering ribs, and smashing the lungs and heart.\n\nHe fired a fraction of a second earlier and the red feathered arrow struck Milva low in the abdomen. It tore into her guts and severed an artery and shattered her pelvis. The archer fell to the floor as if hit by a battering ram." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt and Cahir cried outwith one voice. Aware that the Milva was down, the archers in the gallery once again jumped up and fired a hail of arrows. One of the arrows hit Cahir's helmet. A second, Geralt swore, combed his hair.\n\nMilva left behind her a large, shiny trail of blood. In the place where she lay, in a blink of an eye, it had grown into a puddle on the floor. Cahir cursed, his hands were shaking. Geralt felt overwhelmed by despair. And rage.\n\n\"Auntie!\" howled Angouleme. \"Auntie, don't die! '\n\nMaria Barring opened her mouth, coughed horribly and spit blood down her chin.\n\n\"I love you too, Dad,\" she said clearly.\n\nAnd she died.\n\nVilgefortz's shaved minions could not cope with the struggling and screaming Ciri. Some servants had to go to their aid. One received an accurate kicked that made him recoil, knees bent and clinging with both hands to his groin.\n\nBut this only served to infuriate the others. Ciri received a punch in the neck and a slap in the face. She turned and another one gave her a kick in the hip and someone sat on her legs. One of the bald minions and a young man knelt on her chest, fingers tangling in her hair and pulling hard. Ciri howled.\n\nThe minion also howled. Ciri saw blood drip from his bald skull, staining the white outfit with a macabre drawing.\n\nA second later the lab became a hell. The furniture as overturned with a crash. The strident pops and cracks from glasses bursting mixed with the hellish howls of the confused people. The decoctions, filters, elixirs, extracts and other magical substances spilled onto the tables and the ground, mixing and combining. Some, contacting, hissed and burst forth in clouds of yellow smoke. The room was immediately filled with a caustic stench." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Amid the smoke and tears produced by the stench, Ciri looked in shock at the thing that moved about the laboratory." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A black figure resembling a gigantic bat. She saw the bat hook the minions in flight and releasing them high in the air, yelling as they fell. Before her eyes, it\n\nsnapped up one of the servants that was trying to getaway and slammed it against a table, where he began to howl and shake, spraying blood on retorts, stills, beakers and flasks.\n\nA fluid from some broken container sprayed a lamp. It hissed, and the lamp exploded. Ciri had t dodge the fireball headed at her face. She clenched her teeth to keep from screaming.\n\nIn the steel chair, which was prepared for her, sat a slender, gray-haired man in a black jacket. He gritted his fangs into the neck of a young minion, which rested on his knees and sucked his blood. The bald man groaned and his limbs twitched convulsively.\n\nPallid blue flames danced on the tables. Flasks, retorts and stills exploded in the heat, one after the other.\n\nThe vampire drew his fangs away from his victim's throat and look at Ciri with onyx black eyes.\n\n\"The opportunity arises, he said, as if in explanation,\"when you just can't resist the drink.\"\n\n\"Do not fear,\" he smiled where he saw her expression. \"Do not worry, Cri. I'm glad I found you. My name is Emiel Regis and I, although you may find it incredible, am a friend of the witcher Geralt. I came to this castle with him. '\n\nAn armed mercenary ran into the burning lab. Geralt's companion turned his head towards him, hissed and bared his fangs. The mercenary screamed terribly. His scream soon faded into silence or the distance." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Emiel Regis dropped the minion's body to the ground, stood up and stretched just like a cat.\n\n\"Who would have thought?\" he said. \"Such an insect, and yet he had great blood in him. This is what we calla-hidden quality. Let's go, Ciri, I'll escort you to Geralt.\"\n\n\"No,\" Ciri said.\n\n\"Do not be afraid of me.\"\n\n\"I'm not afraid, \"she protested, bravely clenching her jaw so that he could not hear her teeth chattering in terror.\"No, because... Because Yennefer is imprisoned somewhere here. I have to find her as quickly as possible. I fear that Vilgefortz... Please, sir... '\n\n\"Emiel Regis.\"\n\n\"Warn Geralt, good sir, that Vilgefortz is here. He is a sorcerer, a powerful sorcerer. Geralt has to be careful.\"\n\n\"You have to be careful,\" Regis repeated his warning, staring at Milva lying motionless. \"Because Vilgefortz is a powerful sorcerer. She went to free Yennefer.\"\n\nGeralt cursed.\n\n\"Come on,\" he shouted, to wake up the spirits of his companions. \"Let's go! '\n\n\"Let's go, \"Angouleme stood up, wiping her tears.\"Let's go! We need to kick some ass!\"\n\n\"I feel in me,\" the vampire hissed with a sinister smile, \"a power with which I could smash down this whole castle.\"\n\nThe witcher looked at him suspiciously.\n\n\"I don't think so, \"he said.\"But try and breakthrough to the upper levels and stir it up and try and lure away some attention from me. I'll look for Ciri. She has not been treated well, vampire and you left her alone.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"She demanded it,\" Regis explained quietly. \"In atone that ruled out any discussion. I admit, I was surprised.\"\n\n\"I know. Go to the upper floors. And hold on! I will try to find her and Yennefer.\"\n\nHe found her. And it was fast.\n\nHe met them out of the blue, totally unexpected when running around a corner in the corridor. He was met with a sight that made his blood boil and the veins stick out on the back of his hands.\n\nYennefer was being dragged down the hall by a group of guards. She was ragged and bound in chains, but it did not prevent her from putting up a fight with her captors and swear at them like a porter.\n\nGeralt did not let them recover from their surprise. He slashed once and only once, a short economical movement of his forearm. A guard howled like a dog, turned on the spot and smashed his head into the plate armor statue standing in the hallway alcove; he slipped to the ground and smeared blood over the armor.\n\nHis three companions released Yennefer and quickly backed away. But one grabbed the sorceress by the hair and held a knife to her throat just above the dimeritium collar.\n\n\"Stay away!\" he shouted. \"Or I'll slaughter her! I'm not kidding!\"\n\n\"Me either,\" Geralt twirled his sword and looked the man in the eye.\n\nThe man could not stand it; he released Yennefer and ran back to his companions. All of them had their hands on weapons. One of them took an antique halberd from the wall. They spread out into a semi-circular attack position.\n\n\"I knew you'd come, \"Yennefer said, straightening up proudly.\"Geralt, teach these ruffians what a sword in the hands of a witcher can do. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She raised her hands high, lifting the shackles. Geralt grasped Sihil in both hands, cocked his head slightly and took aim. He slashed. So fast that no one saw the blade move.\n\nThe shackles fell with a clatter to the floor. One of the guards sighed. Geralt tightened his grip, moving his index finger under the hilt.\n\n\"Don't move, Yen. Tilt your head slightly to the side, please. '\n\nThe sorceress did not even blink. The sound of the sword striking metal was very faint.\n\nThe dimeritium collar fell beside the chains on the floor. On the sorceress neck appeared on tiny drop of blood. She rubbed her wrists and laughed. She slowly turned to the guards. None of them held her gaze.\n\nThe one with the halberd carefully as if afraid to break it, laid it on the floor.\n\n\"With someone like that, he mused,\"the Owl can fight her in person. I value my life. '\n\n\"We were ordered...\" muttered another, retreating. \"We were ordered... The decision was not ours...\"\n\n\"We have never treated you badly, ma'am, \"said a third, his mouth going dry.\"While in prison... Bear witness.... '\n\n\"Be gone,\" said the sorceress. Liberated from the dimeritium, she stood erect with her head held proudly and in their eyes she appeared as a giantess. It seemed to them that her tousled, black mane touched the roof of the vaulted corridor.\n\nThe guards fled. Hunched as if expecting an attack from behind, but none of them looked back. Yennefer returned to her normal size. She threw her arms around Geralt's neck." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I knew that you'd come for me, \"she whispered, searching with her mouth for his lips.\"That you'd come, even if...\"\n\n\"Let's go, \"he said after a moment, gasping for air.\"Now for Ciri. '\n\n\"Ciri,\" she said and in her eyes fora brief moment blazed a fearsome purple fire. \"And Vilgefortz.\"\n\nFrom around a corner a mercenary crossbowman jumped out, shouted and fired. He aimed for the sorceress. Geralt jumped as if driven by a spring and waved his sword. The arrow deflected and flew over the head of the archer, so close that he had to duck. He did not have time to stand again because the witcher jumped forward and skewered him like a carp. Further along in the hallway stood two other, who also had crossbows and fired them, but their hands were shaking so they did not find their mark. In the next moment, the witcher was among them and they both died.\n\n\"Which way, Yen?\"\n\nThe sorceress focused, closing her eyes.\n\n\"This way. After these steps.\"\n\n\"Are you sure that's a good way to go? '\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nMore mercenaries attacked them from just behind the corner of the hallway, near an ornate archway. There were more than ten and they were armed with spears and halberds. And they were determined and stubborn. Despite this, they went down quickly.\n\nYennefer immediately struck one in the chest with a ball of fire. Geralt spun in a pirouette and fell among the others, his Dwarven Sihil flashing and hissing like a snake. When four more had fallen, then others fled, clanging and clattering along the corridors." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"All right, Yen?\"\n\n\"Could not be better.\"\n\nUnder the archway stood Vilgefortz.\n\n\"I'm impressed, \"he said quietly.\"I'm really impressed, witcher. You are hopelessly naive and stupid, but your technique is really impressive.\"\n\n\"Your underlings,\" Yennefer said calmly, \"just took off and left you. Give us Ciri and we'll leave you alone. '\n\n\"You know, Yennefer,\" sneered the wizard, \"that is the second generous offer I've had today? Thank you, thank you. And here is my answer... '\n\n\"Look out!\" Yennefer screamed and jumped. Geralt also jumped to the side at the last minute. A pillar of fire roared from the wizard's hands and burst through the place Geralt stood a moment before, hissing and burning the area. The witcher wiped soot and the charred remains of an eyebrow from his face. He saw Vilgefortz again raise his hand. He dodged and ducked behind a column. The boom popped his ears. The whole castle shook on its foundations.\n\nEchoes of the vast boom rolled through the corridors, halls and rooms of the castle. The walls trembled and rafters creaked. With aloud crack, a portrait with a heavy gilt frame fell from the wall.\n\nIn the eyes of the fleeing mercenaries was an unspeakable fear. Stefan Skellen mollified them with a threatening glare and called them to order with astern look and voice.\n\n\"What is it? Report!\"\n\n\"Mister Coroner...\" grunted one of them. \"This is terrible! They are demons... Every arrow kills one of us... Every slash sprays red blood... Death is coming for us... He butchered everyone! We lost ten men... Maybe more... Do you hear that?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The boom repeated, the castle trembled again.\n\n\"Magic,\" Skellen said through clenched teeth. \"Vilgefortz... Well, now we'll see who's who.\"\n\nHe approached another soldier. He was pale and covered with debris. Fora while he was unable to bring himself to speak, when he finally spoke his voice trembled.\n\n\"There... there... is a monster... Mister Coroner... Big black bat... Tearing at people's heads. Blood ran in streams! And he flew around and laughed... And his teeth! '\n\n\"It could not carry the heads...\" someone whispered from behind the Owl.\n\n\"Mister Coroner,\" Boreas Mun decided to speak. \"There are ghosts. I saw... young Count Cahir aep Ceallach. And he is dead.\"\n\nSkellen looked at him but said nothing.\n\n\"Lord Stefan...\" Dacre Silifant mumbled. \"Who are we fighting here?\"\n\n\"They are not men,\" moaned one of the mercenaries. \"They are demons from hell! A force no human can hope to stand against...\"\n\nThe Owl crossed his arms and stared at the mercenaries with an authoritarian and determined look.\n\n\"Then,\" he proclaimed loudly and clearly, \"we will not meddle in the conflict between the forces of hell! Let the demons fight with demons, sorcerers with sorcerers and vampires can crawl out of their tombs. We won't disturb them! We will stay here, quietly and await the outcome of the fight. '\n\nThe faces of the mercenaries shone. The mood grew palpable.\n\n\"These stairs,\" Skellen said in a strong voice, \"is the only way out. We'll wait here. Let's see who tries to go down them.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "From above came a terrible boom. They could smell sulfur and smoke even here.\n\n\"It is dark inhere!\" the Owl shouted, loud and clear, to give encouragement to his troops. \"Move, get some torches! We need light to shine on those stairs! Light afire in those braziers!\"\n\n\"We have no fuel, Sir!\"\n\nSkellen wordlessly pointed to the artworks on the wall in the hall.\n\n\"The artworks?\" a mercenary asked incredulously. \"We are to burn paintings?\"\n\n\"Why not?\" said the Owl. \"What are you looking at? Art is dead!\"\n\nThe frames were broken down to chips and the images shredded. The well dried wood and the cloth saturated with varnish immediately caught flame.\n\nBoreas Mun watched. Already fully committed.\n\nA thunderous noise, a flash and the column from where they were hiding a moment before, crumbled apart. The core broke; the decorated column crashed to the floor and crushed a terracotta mosaic. From the side flew a hissing ball of lightning. Yennefer stopped it, uttering spells and gesturing.\n\nVilgefortz walked towards them, his cloak billowing out behind him like dragon wings.\n\n\"I'm not surprised by Yennefer, \"he said walking.\"She is a woman, so she is evolutionarily lower and ruled by her hormones. But you, however, Geralt, you're not only a man who is inherently reasonable, but a mutant, exempt from emotions...\"\n\nHe gestured. Thunder. A flash. Lightning rebounded from Yennefer's shield.\n\n\"But despite your better judgment,\" continued Vilgefortz, passing fire from one hand to another, \"you demonstrate a remarkable consistency and know nothing. You constantly want to paddle against the current and piss into the wind. It had to end badly. Know that today, here; in castle Stygga, you have pissed into a hurricane.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Somewhere on the lower floors was furious fighting, someone shouted, screamed and then groaned in pain. Something burned, Ciri could smell the burning smell and smoke, a gust of warmer air was blown into her face.\n\nSomething banged with such forces that even the roof trembled on its support columns and stucco showered from the walls.\n\nCiri cautiously peered around a corner. The corridor was empty. She went quickly and quietly, flanked on both sides by statues in the wall niches. She had seen those statues before.\n\nIn her dreams.\n\nShe left the corridor and came face to face with a man armed with a spear. She stopped short, ready to jump and spin. But then realized that this was not a man but a woman with grey hair, skinny and bent. And she was not carrying a spear, but a broom.\n\n\"There is a prisoner here,\" Ciri said, \"a black-haired sorceress. Where is she?\"\n\nThe woman with the broom was silent fora long moment, moving her mouth as if chewing something.\n\n\"And how would I know, my dove?\" she mumbled finally. \"I'm hereto clean. '\n\nShe turned her back to the girl and began to sweep.\n\n\"I clean and I clean and I clean,\" she repeated to herself. \"And every time it just becomes dirty again. Just look at this mess, my dove.\"\n\nCiri looked. On the floor, she saw a wide, winding bloody smear. It ran fora few steps and ended at a wall, under a dead man. Nearby lay two more dead men, one twisted in his death throws, the second with outspread limbs. Next to them lay crossbows.\n\n\"There is mess again,\" she said taking a bucket and rag, dropping to her knees, she began to mop the floor. \"Such filth. And I used to get it clean. Will it never end?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"No,\" said Ciri flatly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Never. Such is the way of the world.\"\n\nThe old woman stopped mopping, but did not turn her head.\n\n\"I clean,\" she said. \"Nothing more. By you, my dove, you should go straight and then left.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\nThe woman bowed her head lower and again wearily began to mop.\n\nShe was alone. Alone and lost in amaze of corridors.\n\n\"Lady Yennefer!\"\n\nSo far she had kept silent, fearing that yelling would attract Vilgefortz's people. But now...\n\n\"Yennefeeeeeer!\"\n\nIt seemed to her that she heard something. Yes, definitely!\n\nShe ran into a gallery and then into a great hall with high porches. Again she smelt the burning smell.\n\nBonhart emerged like a spirit from a niche and hither in the face with his fist. She stumbled, and he jumped on her like a hawk, grabbing her by the throat and pushing her against the wall with his forearm. Ciri looked into his pale fishlike eyes and felt her heart drop low in her chest.\n\n\"I would not have found you, if you were not calling out,\" he croaked. \"And how wistfully you called. Do you long for me so, my darling?\"\n\nStill against the wall, his hand slipped behind her neck. Ciri tossed her head. The Bounty hunter bared his teeth. He slid hi handover her chest, squeezing her breast, and brutally grabbed her crotch. The he released her and pushed, she fell to the floor.\n\nHe threw a sword at her feet. Swallow. And she immediately understood what he wanted.\n\n\"I would have preferred the arena,\" he drawled. \"As a culmination, the final to your fine performances. The witcheress verses Leo Bonhart! Eh, people would pay to see something like that! Come on! Lift the steel and draw it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She obeyed. But did not draw the sword from its sheath, she slung the belt over her shoulder so that the hilt was in reach.\n\nBonhart took a step back.\n\n\"I thought,\" he said, \"that my old eyes would be comforted by what Vilgefortz was going to do to you. I was wrong. I need to feel how your blood flows down my sword. To hell with vile sorcery and sorcerers, destiny, prophecies and the fate of the world, defiling elder and younger blood. What does all this divination and witchcraft mean tome? Shit! Nothing can compare with the pleasure...\"\n\nHe did not finish the sentence. She saw his lips move and his eyes flash ominously.\n\n\"I'll release the blood from your veins, witcheress, \"he hissed.\"And then, before it gets cold, we will celebrate. You're mine. All mine. Raise your weapon!\"\n\nThe castle shook from a distant rumble.\n\n\"Vilgefortz,\" Bonhart announced gleefully, \"is making mincemeat of your valiant rescuers. Well, darling, draw your sword.\"\n\nFlee, she thought, paralyzed with fear, flee to another place, to another time, faraway from him. She felt shame. Run? Leave Geralt and Yennefer to their mercy? But commonsense told her, dead I can do nothing to help them...\n\nShe concentrated, pressed her fists to her temples.\n\nBonhart immediately understood what was going on and rushed to her. But he reacted too late.\n\nThere was a flash and a murmur in her ears\n\nI did it, she triumphantly.\n\nShe immediately realized that the triumph was premature. She realized that she could hear angry shouts and curses. The failure was probably caused by the evil, paralyzing aura of this place. She had transferred, but only a small jump. She had not even gotten out of sight of the opposite end of the gallery. She was not far from Bonhart. But she was still beyond his reach and his sword. At least temporarily." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dogged by his roar, she turned and ran away.\n\nShe ran along long, wide corridors, the dead eyes of the statues followed her. She turned once, then a second time. She wanted to get lost and confuse Bonhart; moreover, she was headed towards the sounds of battle. Where it was being fought, were her friends.\n\nShe entered into a large, circular room, in the middle of which stood a marble plinth sculpture representing a woman with a veiled face, probably a goddess. The room opened onto two corridors, both quite narrow. She picked one at random. She chose the wrong path.\n\n\"The girl!\" roared one of the mercenaries. \"We have her!\"\n\nThere were too many of them to risk a fight, even in a narrow corridor. And Bonhart was probably close. Ciri turned and ran to escape. She entered the room with the marble goddess. And froze.\n\nBefore her stood a knight with a large sword, in a black coat and a helmet adorned with the wings of a bird of prey.\n\nThe city was burning. She could hear the crackling of the fire, could seethe undulation of the flames, she felt the heat of the fire and the neighing of horses, the screams of the victims... Suddenly, there appeared a blackbird flapping its wings, covering everything... Help!\n\nCintra, she realized, returning to reality. And Thanedd island. He caught up tome here. He's a demon. I'm surrounded by ghosts and phantoms from my nightmares. Bonhart is behind me, and him in front.\n\nShe could hear screaming and the pounding of boots.\n\nThe knight in the helmet with the feathers made a sudden move. Ciri overcame her fear. Swallow was yanked out of its sheath." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Do not touch me!\"\n\nThe knight stepped back and to Ciri's amazement she saw that his cloak hid a blond girl armed with a curved sabre. The girl slipped around Ciri and slashed with her sabre at a mercenary. The black knight, instead of attacking Ciri, swung a powerful slash and killed another mercenary. The other retreated into the hallway.\n\nThe blond girl rushed to the door, but could not close it. She brandished her sabre threateningly and screamed, pushing the mercenaries from the portal. Ciri watched as one of the mercenaries stabbed her with a spear, she watched as the girl fell to her knees. She jumped forwards and swung Swallow, slashing the sword horrible across one the mercenaries, the Black knight ran forward. The blond girl, still on her knees, drew an axe from her belt and threw it, hitting one of the men in the face. Then she reached the door, slammed it and the knight bolted it.\n\n\"Uff!\" said the girl. \"Oak andiron! It will take them sometime before they can get through that door!\"\n\n\"They will not waste the time, they'll seek another way, \"said the black knight matter-of-factly, the frowned suddenly, seeing the blood seeping from the girl's leg. The blond waved her hand, it was nothing.\n\n\"We have to get out of here,\" the knight took off his helmet and looked at Ciri. \"I am Cahir Mawr Dyffryn, the son of Ceallach. I came herewith Geralt. To rescue you, Ciri. I know that it is unbelievable.\"\n\n\"I've seen unbelievable things, \"Ciri said.\"You have come along way... Cahir... Where is Geralt? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He stared at her. She remembered those eyes from Thanedd. Deep, blue, nice.\n\n\"He is saving the sorceress,\" he said. \"Here...\"\n\n\"Yennefer. Let's go. '\n\n\"Yeah,\" said the blond girl, knotting an emergency bandage around her thigh. \"We have to kick a few asses! For Auntie!\"\n\n\"Let's go, ' repeated the knight.\n\nBut it was too late.\n\n\"Run,\" Ciri whispered, seeing who was coming down the second passage. \"It is the devil incarnate. But he wants me and will not chase you... Go. Help Geralt...\"\n\nCahir shook his head.\n\n\"Ciri,\" he said mildly. \"I'm surprised at you. I cross the whole world to see you, and now that I found you, to redeem myself, to save you and defend you. And you want me to runaway now? '\n\n\"You don't know who you are dealing with. '\n\nCahir tugged on his gloves, removed his coat and wrapped it around his left arm. He waved his sword and swung it until it whistled in the air.\n\n\"I would know.\"\n\nAt the sight of the trio, Bonhart stopped. But only fora moment.\n\n\"Oh,\" he said. \"There was a rescue? Your friends, witcheress? All right. Two more or less, it does not make a difference.\"\n\nCiri suddenly thought of something.\n\n\"Say goodbye to your life, Bonhart,\" she cried. \"This is your end. Here is your match!\"\n\nUndoubtedly she exaggerated. Bonhart caught the false note in her voice. He looked suspicious." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"The witcher?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Really?\"\n\nCahir swung his sword, standing in position. Bonhart did not waver.\n\n\"Well, well, the witcher is younger than I believed,\" he hissed. \"Look here, boy.\"\n\nHe opened his mail shirt. On his chest glistened three silver medallions– an eagle, a cat and a wolf.\n\n\"If you're areal witcher, \"the Bounty hunter gritted his teeth,\"know that soon your amulet will adorn my collection. And if you're not the witcher, you'll be dead before you can blink your eyes. It would be more sensible, in that case, to get out of my way and flee. I want this wench, I have nothing against you. '\n\n\"Strong words,\" Cahir said calmly. \"Let's see what else you can do. Angouleme, Ciri, run! '\n\n\"Cahir...\"\n\n\"Go,\" he said, \"help Geralt.\"\n\nThey ran off. Ciri helped the limping girl.\n\n\"You asked for it,\" Bonhart narrowed his pale eyes, as he did he twirled his sword.\n\n\"Asked for it?\" echoed Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach dully. \"No. It is my destiny!\"\n\nThey rushed towards each other and collided violently. The blades clattered against each other, the corridor carried the sound of steel banging on steel.\n\n\"Not bad,\" Bonhart gasped when they moved apart. \"Not bad boy. But you're not a witcher, that little bitch wanted to deceive me. It's your turn. Prepare to die.\"\n\n\"Strong words.\"\n\nCahir breathed deeply. The first encounter convinced him that his chances were slim. The old killer was too fast and strong. His only hope was that he rushed in order to chase Ciri, and clearly nervous." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bonhart attacked again. Cahir parried, cut, ducked, jumped, grabbed his opponent's wrist, pushed him to the wall and put his knee is his groin. Bonhart grabbed him by the face and slammed the hilt of his sword into the side of his head, once, twice, three times. Cahir blocked the third strike. He saw the flash of the blade and instinctively parried.\n\nToo slowly.\n\nThere was a strict adherence to family tradition in the Dyffryn house that the body of a fallen relative was to be housed in the castle armory and all the men in the family to visit and stay in an all day and night vigil. Women gathered in a remote wing of the castle, so as not to disturb the men, or distract them or interfere with their thoughts, with their sobbing and fainting spells.\n\nAmong the nobility of Vicovaro, sobbing and tears were not seen even among the women. It was considered tactless and a great dishonor. But in the Dyffryn house there were different traditions and they would not change. And had no intention of doing so.\n\nAt ten years old, Cahir's youngest brother, Aillil was killed in Nazair and was lying in the castle armory, due to custom and tradition he was not considered to be a grown man.\n\nHe was not invited to a gathering of men over the open coffin, but was not allowed to sit silent alongside his grandfather Gruffyd, his father Ceallach, his brother Dheran or his uncles and cousins. Understandably, he was neither allowed to mourn and faint in with his grandmother, his mother, his three sisters or his aunts and cousins. Small Cahir preferred running around the walls and fighting with his peers from families who came with their parents for the funeral, burial and ceremony. Cahir was devoted to making mischief by the" }, { "from": "human", "value": "walls." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He fought with the other boys who claimed their older brothers fought the bravest at Nazair and not Aillil aep Ceallach.\n\n\"Cahir! Come tome, my son!\"\n\nOn the porch stood Mawr, the boy's mother and her sister, Aunt Cinead var Anahid. His mother's face was red and swollen from mourning and it frightened Cahir. It shook him that even such a comely woman, such as his mother, could look like a monster because of crying. He firmly decided that he would never cry, ever.\n\n\"Remember, my son,\" Mawr sobbed, clutching her child to her breast so hard he could not breathe. \"Remember this day. Never forget who put your dear brother Aillil to death. It was those damn Nordlings. Your enemies, my son. Be sure to hate them. Never stop hating that damn nation of murderers!\"\n\n\"I will always hate, mother,\" Cahir promised, somewhat surprised. First, his brother, Aillil had fallen fighting with honor. It had been a death worthy and enviable of a warrior. Why, then, spill tears for him? Second, it was no secret that Grandmother Eviva, Mawr's mother, came from the Nordlings. His father in anger more than once had called his grandmother'she-wolf of the North\". Naturally, behind her back.\n\nBut his mother now wanted...\n\n\"I hate them!\" he cried enthusiastically. I hate them all! And when I'm big and I have areal sword, I'll go to war and chop off their heads! You'll see, Mother!\"\n\nHis mother took a deep breath and began to sob. Aunt Cinead steadied her.\n\nCahir clenched his fists, shaking with anger. Anger and hatred towards those who had wronged his mother, making her so ugly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bonhart's blow smashed his temple, cheek and mouth. Cahir dropped his sword and stumbled; the Bounty hunter swung and slashed him between his neck and collarbone. Cahir fell at the feet of the marble goddess, his blood, like a pagan sacrifice, pooled at the base of the statue.\n\nRumbling, the floor shook beneath their feet, a decorative shield fell to the floor with a crash. The corridor was filled with acrid smoke. Ciri wiped her face. The blond girl weighed on her like a millstone.\n\n\"Faster... Run faster...\"\n\n\"I can't, ' breathed the girl and sat down heavily on the floor. Ciri stunned, watched the blood oozing from her leg. She was pale as death.\n\nCiri knelt and quickly took off her scarf and belt and tried to make a tourniquet. But the wound was large and deep, and very high on the leg, too close to the groin. The blood would not stop flowing.\n\nThe girl grabbed her hand. Her fingers were as cold as ice.\n\n\"Ciri...\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"I am Angouleme. I did not believe... I did not believe that we would find you. But I followed Geralt... Because it was impossible not to follow. Did you know?\"\n\n\"I know. He is well.\"\n\n\"We found you... And I scoffed at Fringilla... Tell me...\"\n\n\"Don't talk, please. '\n\n\"Tell...\" Angouleme's lips moved slower and with more difficulty.\"Say, you're still a princess... In Cintra... I'll be rewarded, right? You'll make me... a Countess? Tell me. Do not lie... Can you? Tell me.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Don't talk. Save your strength. '\n\nAngouleme sighed, suddenly leaned forward and rested her forehead on Ciri's shoulder.\n\n\"I knew...\" she said quiet clearly. \"I knew a whorehouse in Toussaint was a better idea.\"\n\nIt took along time before Ciri realized that she was holding a dead girl in her arms.\n\nShe saw him coming, watched by the dead eyes of the marble caryatids lining the arcade. She finally realized that escape was impossible that she could not escape him. That she would have to face him. There was no other choice.\n\nBut she was still scared.\n\nShe drew her weapon. Swallow's edge softly sang as she pulled it from the sheath. She knew this song.\n\nShe retreated into a wide corridor, he followed her, holding his sword in both hands, blood trickled down the blade, heavy drops dripped onto the floor.\n\n\"Dead,\" he said, stepping over the body of Angouleme. \"Good. The boy also went down.\"\n\nCiri felt overwhelmed by desperation. Her fingers tightened painfully on the hilt. She retreated.\n\n\"You lied tome,\" Bonhart drawled. \"The boy had no medallion. But something tells me that herein this castle is someone wearing a medallion. There will be someone old Leo Bonhart will find near the sorceress Yennefer. But first things first, viper. You and me. And our engagement.\"\n\nCiri decided. She twirled Swallow and moved into position. She moved in a semicircle around him, going faster, forcing the Bounty hunter to rotate on the spot.\n\n\"The last time,\" he said, \"this trick was useless. Don't you know how to learn from your mistakes? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ciri quickened her pace. The soft flowing movements of her sword were meant to disorientate and mesmerize. Bonhart turned and spun his sword.\n\n\"This doesn't work on me, \"he spat.\"I'm bored by it!\"\n\nHe took two quicksteps to shorten the distance.\n\n\"Music, maestro!\"\n\nBonhart jumped and launched an attack, Ciri dodged with a pirouette, jumped and landed safely on her left leg and immediately struck. Even before her blade hit Bonhart's, she was spinning around him and launching a smooth cut. She struck again, without expansion, from an unexpected and unusual bending of her elbow. Bonhart parried and used the momentum to attack from the left. Ciri saw it coming and with a slight bend of her knees she avoided the blade, but only by an inch. She went quickly on the attack, chopping and cutting. But Bonhart was waiting this time and deceived her with a feint. Unable to stop, and nearly off balance, Ciri was only saved by a lightning jump, but did not prevent the reach of Bonhart's sword to her shoulder. At first she thought that the blade had only cut through the padded sleeve, but after a moment she felt warm liquid rundown her arm.\n\nThe marble caryatids watched them with indifference.\n\nCiri retreated, but he stayed behind her, stooped over and flicking his sword from side to side like a scythe. Like a Grim Reaper, Ciri had seen in a fresco in the temple. The dance of Death, she thought. He approaches like the Grim Reaper.\n\nShe retreated. Hot, wet blood was running down her arm and onto her hand.\n\n\"First blood tome,\" he said, looking at the trail of drops, which had been left behind on the floor. \"Who will get the second, my princess?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She retreated.\n\n\"Look closely. This is the end.\"\n\nBonhart was right. The hallway ended suddenly at an abyss. This wing of the castle was damaged and the floor had collapsed. Leaving of the structure– columns, timbers and beams. Downstairs on the ground was littered with debris.\n\nCiri hesitated. She moved onto a horizontal beam, and kept retreating from him. Bonhart's eyes watched her every move. It saved her. Abruptly, he lunged at her, running across the beam, his sword flashing with cuts and feints. She knew his intention. One bad parry or any other error and she would lose her balance and fall down to the broken lower floor.\n\nThis time Ciri was not fooled by his feints. Just the opposite. Bonhart skillfully cut from the right. Seeing her rival hesitate a split second, she launched anew blow to his right hand, so fast and strong that Bonhart rocked the beam. He would have fallen if not for his height. He stretched his left hand and caught hold of an overhead beam, keeping his balance. But he briefly lost his concentration. And for Ciri that was enough. She launched a powerful cut, straining her sword arm to its maximum length.\n\nHe did not even flinch when Swallow's blade, with a whistle cut him from his chest to his left shoulder. He immediately struck back with such force that if Ciri had not jumped back, the blow would have split her in half. She jumped to an adjacent beam, falling into a kneeling position and raised her sword horizontally above her head.\n\nBonhart looked at his shoulder and raised his left hand, down which already ran a scarlet trickle. He watched the drops falling down into the abyss.\n\n\"Well, well,\" he said. \"Now I know you can learn from your mistakes.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His voice trembled with rage. But Ciri knew him to well. He was calm, focused and ready to kill.\n\nHe jumped onto her beam his sword twirling and rushed at her like a storm, running confidently, without hesitation, not even looking at his feet. The beam creaked and dust trickled downwards. He pressed her with blows, forcing her to walk backwards. His attacks were so continuous that Ciri could not jump or spin; she simply had to stop the blows and try to avoid them.\n\nShe noticed a glint in his fish eyes. She knew what it was.\n\nHe was trying to corner her against a pillar, pushing her like a spider under a trestle. Pushing her to a point where there was no escape. She had to do something. And suddenly she knew what.\n\nKaer Morhen. The Pendulum.\n\n\"You're not deflecting the pendulum, your deflecting yourself from it. You're intercepting its energy, which you need in order to deal a blow. Do you see?\"\n\n\"Yes, Geralt.\"\n\nSuddenly, swift as an attacking snake, she counterattacked. Swallow hissed through the air and collided with Bonhart's sword. At the same time Ciri bounced and jumped to an adjacent beam. She landed, miraculously keeping her balance. She ran a few steps and lightly jumped again, back to the Bonhart's beam, landing behind him. He turned just in time, slashing almost blindly where she had landed.\n\nHe missed her by a hair; the strength of the blow staggered him. Ciri struck like lightning. She slashed from a lunge and again fell to her knees. The slash was powerful and accurate.\n\nHe froze with his sword at his side. She watched the long, straight, smooth cut on his jacket start to ooze blood." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You...\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bonhart shuddered. \"You...\"\n\nHe lunged at her. However, it was slow and clunky. She escaped by jumping back and he could not keep his balance. He fell to one knee, but it slipped off the timber because the wood was slick with his blood. Fora moment he looked at Ciri.\n\nThen he fell into the abyss.\n\nShe watched as he fell to the floor, raising a geyser of dust, lime and blood. She saw his sword fall a few feet away from him. He lay motionless, with arms flung wide, tall and thin. Badly wounded and quite vulnerable. But still scary.\n\nIt took awhile, but he finally moved and groaned. He tried to lift his head. He moved his legs. He moved his hands. He crawled to a pillar and leaned against its foot. He moaned again and probed his bloody chest and abdomen with both hands.\n\nCiri jumped. She landed a few feet away in a crouch, as softly as a cat. She saw his fish eyes widen in fear.\n\n\"You won...\" he croaked, looking at Swallow's blade.\"You won, witcheress. It was a pity it was not in the arena... It would have been a spectacle... '\n\nShe did not answer.\n\n\"I gave you that sword, remember?\"\n\n\"I remember everything.\"\n\n\"Why me...\" he moaned. \"You will not hurt or murder a defenseless man... You are too... noble.\"\n\nShe looked at him fora longtime. Avery longtime. Then sent bent down, His fish eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. But she only tore the medallions from around his neck– the eagle, the cat and the wolf. Then she turned and walked towards the exit." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He leaped at her with a knife in his hand, cunningly and treacherously." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As quiet as a ghost. Only at the last moment, when his dagger was about to go into her back, did he scream. In it was all of his rage and hatred.\n\nShe avoided the cowardly attacked with a half-turn and jumped away. She immediately shifted and struck, hard and strong, with her whole arm, strengthening the cut with a twist of her hips. Swallow whistled and cut with the tip of its blade. Bonhart clutched at his throat. Hit fish eyes bulged from their sockets.\n\n\"I told you,\" Ciri said coldly. \"I remember everything.\"\n\nBonhart stared at her wide-eyed. Then he fell.\n\nHe fell backwards into the dust with billowed around him. He lay on his back, tall, skinny and a skeleton and squeezed his throat with all his might. But no matter how firmly he held, his life slipped out between his fingers and the layer of grey dust under his body grew wet and black.\n\nCiri stood over him. Without saying anything. But ensuring that he saw. That this last image would be the image that accompanied him wherever he went.\n\nHe looked at her with hardening eyes. He convulsively reared up, digging his heels into the ground. Then he gurgles like a funnel emptying.\n\nAnd that was the last sound he made.\n\nThe stonewalls trembled, beams cracked and glass poured from lead frames.\n\n\"Watch out, Geralt!\"\n\nHe dodged again at the last minute. Brilliant lightning ploughed a furrow in the ground, the air hissed with color, murderously sharp fragments from broken windows. Lightning hit the column, behind which the witcher hid. The column broke up into three parts. It broke from the roof and collapsed to the floor with a deafening crash." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "As the writer's tale assistant, advance the plot.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 10" }, { "from": "human", "value": "He leaped at her with a knife in his hand, cunningly and treacherously." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As quiet as a ghost. Only at the last moment, when his dagger was about to go into her back, did he scream. In it was all of his rage and hatred.\n\nShe avoided the cowardly attacked with a half-turn and jumped away. She immediately shifted and struck, hard and strong, with her whole arm, strengthening the cut with a twist of her hips. Swallow whistled and cut with the tip of its blade. Bonhart clutched at his throat. Hit fish eyes bulged from their sockets.\n\n\"I told you,\" Ciri said coldly. \"I remember everything.\"\n\nBonhart stared at her wide-eyed. Then he fell.\n\nHe fell backwards into the dust with billowed around him. He lay on his back, tall, skinny and a skeleton and squeezed his throat with all his might. But no matter how firmly he held, his life slipped out between his fingers and the layer of grey dust under his body grew wet and black.\n\nCiri stood over him. Without saying anything. But ensuring that he saw. That this last image would be the image that accompanied him wherever he went.\n\nHe looked at her with hardening eyes. He convulsively reared up, digging his heels into the ground. Then he gurgles like a funnel emptying.\n\nAnd that was the last sound he made.\n\nThe stonewalls trembled, beams cracked and glass poured from lead frames.\n\n\"Watch out, Geralt!\"\n\nHe dodged again at the last minute. Brilliant lightning ploughed a furrow in the ground, the air hissed with color, murderously sharp fragments from broken windows. Lightning hit the column, behind which the witcher hid. The column broke up into three parts. It broke from the roof and collapsed to the floor with a deafening crash." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt, lying flat on the floor, his head cupped in his hands, was aware of how miserable a shield this was from the falling debris. He prepared for the worst, but nothing happened. He jumped up and could seethe glow of a magical shield around him, he realized Yennefer's magic had saved him.\n\nVilgefortz threw a bolt of lightning at the other column behind which the sorceress was hiding. He roared furiously and a cloud of dust and smoke appeared. Yennefer deftly slipped between them and retaliated with her own flash of lightning, which bounced off of the wizard with no visible effect. He answered with a crushing blow that knocked Yennefer to the ground.\n\nGeralt wiped the dust from his eyes and attacked. Vilgefortz turned his eyes towards him and pointed his arm, and from his hands roared fire. The witcher instinctively swung his sword. The dwarven blade, covered with runes, shielded him and but the stream of fire in half.\n\n\"Ha!\" roared Vilgefortz. \"Impressive, witcher! What do you say to this!\"\n\nThe witcher said nothing. He was hit by an invisible battering ram, flew backwards, fell on the floor and slid until he found the base of a buttress. A pillar flew apart and again tumbled from the roof. This time he did not have Yennefer's protection. The heavy carved block struck him in the side, fortunately, not fully, but even so it hurt and completely paralyzed him.\n\nYennefer chanted spells and threw them at Vilgefortz one after another. However, none of them hit, and they all bounced harmless off of the wizard's magical shield. Vilgefortz suddenly spread his arms wide. Yennefer wailed in pain and started rising from the ground. The wizard clapped his hands together and his fingers started to shake and if squeezing a wet rag. The sorceress cried shrilly. And started to squirm." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt clenched his teeth in pain and rose to return to the fight. But he was overtaken by Regis.\n\nThe vampire came flying from out of nowhere in the shape of a giant bat and rushed at Vilgefortz quietly. Before the sorcerer could raise a protection spell, Regis attacked his face with his claws; he missed the eye because it was so unnaturally small. Vilgefortz yelled and waved his arms in surprise. Yennefer freed from the spell, fell with a scream of surprise into a pile of rubble, blood spurting from her mouth and down her chin and breasts.\n\nGeralt was already close. He raised Sihil ready to deal a blow. But Vilgefortz had no intention of surrendering. He pushed the witcher with a powerful surge of energy and attacked the vampire with a dazzling white beam, which passed through a stone pillar like a hot knife through butter. Regis deftly evaded the beam and returned to his usual form. He materialized at Geralt's side.\n\n\"Be careful,\" the witcher grunted, trying to discern what was wrong with Yennefer. \"Be careful, Regis...\"\n\n\"Be careful?\" said the vampire. \"I? That's not why I came here! '\n\nWith an incredibly long and fast leap he reached the wizard and grabbed him by the throat. His vampire fangs glistened.\n\nVilgefortz scream with rage and terror. Fora brief moment, it appeared this was the end of him. But it was premature. The wizard had an arsenal of weapons for every occasion. And against every opponent– even vampires.\n\nThe wizard hands grasped Regis and heated up like red hot irons. The vampire screamed. Geralt also cried out, seeing that the wizard was literally tearing the vampire. He jumped to his friend's aid. But was too late. Vilgefortz pushed the vampire into a column, with both of his hands burning with white fire." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Regis screamed.\n\nHe screamed so loud that the witcher had to cover his ears with his hands. The remains of the windows shattered noisily. The column simply melted. And the vampire melted with it, turning into a shapeless stone.\n\nGeralt cursed furiously and desperately. He jumped forward and swung Sihil. The wizard turned and hit him with magical energy. The witcher flew the entire length of the hall, hit a wall on the other side and slid down it.\n\nHe lay there gasping for air, like a fish out of water, wondering not what was broken, but what was whole.\n\nVilgefortz walked towards him. In his hand materialized a six-foot-long iron rod.\n\n\"I could reduce you to ashes with a spell,\" he said. \"Or I could melt you into a glassy mass, as I did with that monster. But you, witcher, you deserve a different death. In combat. Maybe not a fair fight, but still.\"\n\nGeralt did not believe he could stand up. But he did. He spat blood from his cut lip. He gripped his sword tighter.\n\n\"In Thanedd,\" said Vilgefortz, approaching him, twirling the rod, \"I settled forgiving you a beating, in moderation, to serve as a lesson. But I can see that you have not learned anything, this time the beating with be thorough and I will not leave a healthy bone in your body. Nobody will be able to put you back together again.\"\n\nHe attacked. Geralt did not try to escape. He accepted the fight.\n\nThe rod flashed and whirled, spinning around the sorcerer. Both opponents dodged around each other in a deadly dance. The rod flicked like lightning. Geralt managed to parry the hammering blow. Vilgefortz skillfully deflected. Each time steel meet steel it groaned pitifully." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The wizard was quick and nimble like a demon.\n\nGeralt was fooled by a swing at his torso and a mock punch from the left– the opposite end of the stick hit him n the ribs. Before the witcher could get his wind back, he received a strong blow to the hip that almost knocked him down. He dodged a blow to the top of his head, but did not escape the stab at his stomach. He was thrown against the wall. He had enough presence of mind to fall to the floor. Just at the moment, the iron rod brushed his hair and it slammed into the wall raising sparks.\n\nGeralt rolled; the rod drew sparks from the ground right next to his head. A second blow came and hit his shoulder. The shock sent numbing pain and weakness down his legs. The wizard raised the rod. His eyes burned in triumph.\n\nGeralt clenched his fist around Fringilla's medallion.\n\nThe rod fell. It struck the floor, a few inches from the witcher's head. Geralt rolled to the side and quickly got upon one knee. Vilgefortz jumped after him and swung again. Again he missed by inches.\n\nHe shook his head unable to believe his eyes. He hesitated a moment. Then sighed, realizing what was happening. His eyes twinkled and he leapt and swung his magical weapon. But it was too late.\n\nGeralt quickly slashed him across the stomach. Vilgefortz screamed, dropped the rod and took a few steps backwards. The witcher followed. Kicked him between the stumps of two columns and slashed his sword in a wide arc diagonally across the wizard's torso to his collarbone. Drawing blood.\n\nThe wizard screamed and fell to his knees. He lowered his head and look at his chest and abdomen. Fora longtime he could not look away from what he saw." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt calmly waited with Sihil raised, ready to strike.\n\nVilgefortz lifted his head and wailed shrilly.\n\n\"Geraaaaaalt...!\"\n\nThe witcher did not let him finish.\n\nFora longtime there was silence.\n\n\"I didn't know... ' Yennefer said, at last rising from the pile of rubble.\n\nShe looked pitiful. Blood smeared her chin and chest.\n\n\"I didn't know, \"she repeated, meeting Geralt's puzzled gaze, \"that you knew how to cast spells of illusion. And you were able to confuse Vilgefortz...\"\n\n\"It was my medallion.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" she said suspiciously. \"An interesting thing. But even so, we live thanks to Ciri.\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\"\n\n\"His eye. He did not regain full coordination. And often missed. Although I mainly owe my life...\"\n\nShe fell silent, looking at the remains of the melted column in which she could recognize the outline of a person.\n\n\"Who was that, Geralt?\"\n\n\"A friend. I'll miss him very much. '\n\n\"Was he human?\"\n\n\"He was an incarnation of humanity. How are you, Yen?\"\n\n\"Some broken ribs, a concussion, a bumped hip and a bruised spine. Otherwise, I'm great. What about you? '\n\n\"I'm more or less the same. '\n\nWithout emotion he eyed Vilgefortz head, lying exactly in the middle of the floor of mosaics. The sorcerer's little glassy eye watched them with mute reproach.\n\n\"Nice view,\" she said." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Nice,\" he said. \"But it's not the first I've seen.\" Can you walk? '\n\n\"With your help, yes.\"\n\nThey met in a place where the corridors came together to form and arch. They met under the dead eyes of the statues.\n\n\"Ciri,\" the witcher said, rubbing his eyes.\n\n\"Ciri,\" Yennefer said, supported by the witcher.\n\n\"Geralt,\" Ciri said.\n\n\"Ciri,\" he answered, with a lump in his throat. \"I'm glad to see you again. '\n\n\"Lady Yennefer.\"\n\nThe sorceress released herself from the witcher's arms and straightened with a tremendous effort.\n\n\"What a sight you are, girl,\" she said sternly. \"Look at yourself and how you look. Fix your hair! Don't slouch. Come tome. '\n\nCiri walked, stiffly over to Yennefer. Yennefer smoothed her collar and tried to wipe the dried blood from her sleeve. She fixed her hair, revealing the scar on her cheek. She hugged her tightly. Very tightly. Geralt saw the sorceress's hands on Ciri's back. He saw the deformed fingers. He did not feel anger, grief or hatred. He felt only fatigue. And a great desire to be done with it all.\n\n\"Mummy.\"\n\n\"My daughter.\"\n\n\"Let's go, ' Geralt decided to interrupt, but only after along time.\n\nCiri sniffed noisily and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Yennefer scolded her with a look and rubbed one of her eyes. Surely she had gotten a speck of powder in them. The witcher watched the corridor from which Ciri emerged, as if expecting someone else to come from there. Ciri shook her head. He understood." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Let's go, ' he repeated.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Yennefer. \"I want to seethe sky.\"\n\n\"I'll never leave you again, \"Ciri said dully.\"Never again. '\n\n\"Let's go, \"said Geralt.\"Ciri help Yen. '\n\n\"I don't need help! '\n\n\"Let me help you, mother.\"\n\nBefore them was a staircase. Bathed in smoke and at the bottom flaming torches and braziers with fire. Ciri shivered. She knew those stairs. They had appeared in her dreams and visions.\n\nBelow armed men were waiting.\n\n\"I'm tired, ' she said.\n\n\"Me too,\" said Geralt as he drew Sihil.\n\n\"I'm tired of killing. '\n\n\"Me too.\"\n\n\"Is there no other way?\"\n\n\"No, there is no other way. Only those stairs. We have no choice, girl. Yen wants to seethe sky. And I want to seethe sky, Yen and you.\"\n\nCiri looked at Yennefer, who if not for the railing she was leaning against, would have fallen down. She pulled out the medallions she took from Bonhart. The cat she hung around her neck, the wolf she gave to Geralt.\n\n\"I hope you know,\" the witcher said, \"it's just a symbol. '\n\n\"Everything is just symbols.\"\n\nShe drew Swallow from its sheath.\n\n\"Come on, Geralt.\"\n\n\"Let's go. Stay close tome. '\n\nAt the foot of the stairs Skellen's mercenaries were waiting for them, clutching weapons in sweaty palms. The Owl with a quick gesture sent the first wave of attackers. The stair thundered with the sound of heavy boots." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Slowly, Ciri, don't rush. Stay close tome. '\n\n\"I know, Geralt.\"\n\n\"And calmly, girl, quietly. Remember, no anger, no hated. We have to get out of hereto seethe sky. And those who stand in our way, they die. Do not hesitate.\"\n\n\"I will not hesitate. I want to seethe sky.\"\n\nThey reached the first landing without obstacles. The mercenaries fell back before them, amazed and surprised by their icy calm. But after a moment, three men leapt forward, waving their swords. They died instantly.\n\n\"Attack all at once,\" the Owl shouted from below. \"Kill them!\"\n\nThree more attacked. Geralt stepped forward, feinted atone, and cut another's throat. He spun and Ciri dashed under his right arm. The girl slashed a second mercenary under his arm. The third tried to escape by jumping over the railing. He did not make it.\n\nGeralt wiped a few drops of blood from his face.\n\n\"Calmly, Ciri.\"\n\n\"I am calm.\"\n\nThree more approached. A flash of swords, screaming, death.\n\nThick blood trickled down the smooth stone stairs.\n\nA mercenary with a jacket with brass rivets rushed them with a spear. His eyes shone with narcotics use. Ciri, with a quickstep, deflected the spear and Geralt slashed at the man. He wiped his face. They continued to walk, without looking back.\n\nThe second landing was close.\n\n\"Kill them!\" Skellen shouted. \"Kiillllll!\"\n\nHeave footsteps on the stairs. The bright flashing of a blade, a shout, death." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Excellent, Ciri. But calmly. Less excitement. And stay close tome.\"\n\n\"I'll never leave you. '\n\n\"Do not strike from the shoulder; you can do it from the elbow. Be careful.\"\n\n\"I'm careful. '\n\nThe brightness of a sword, a cry, blood, death.\n\n\"Excellent, Ciri.\"\n\n\"I want to seethe sky.\"\n\n\"I love you.\"\n\n\"I love you too.\"\n\n\"Watch out. It's getting slippery. '\n\nThe flash of blades, screaming. They walked, overtaking the blood pouring down the steps. They continued down the stairs of castle Stygga.\n\nOne of the mercenaries slipped on the bloody stairs and fell straight beneath their feet. He wailed for mercy and covered his head with both hands. They walked around him without looking.\n\nThey reached the third and lowest landing and no one dared cross their path.\n\n\"Bows!\" Stefan Skellen shouted from below. \"Bows and crossbows! Boreas Mun was supposed to bring crossbows! Where is he?\"\n\nBoreas Mun– the Owl could not know– was already quite faraway. He rode straight to the east, with his forehead to the mane of his horse, galloping as fast as he could.\n\nOf the other men who were sent to get crossbows, only one had returned. When he fired, his hands shook and his eyes watered from fisstech. The first bolt hit the railing. The second one did not even hit the stairs.\n\n\"Higher!\" the Owl ordered. \"Get closer, you idiot! Shoot up closer!\"\n\nThe crossbowman pretended not to hear. Skellen swore, grabbed the crossbow, jumped up the stairs, knelt and aimed. Geralt immediately covered Ciri with his body, but the girl slipped past him and as the rope from the crossbow twanged, she was already in position. She twisted her sword into the upper quarter and the bolt hit it so hard it hung in the air along time before falling to the ground." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Very good,\" Geralt muttered. \"Very good, Ciri. But if you ever do something like that again, you'll get a spanking. '\n\nSkellen threw the crossbow aside. He suddenly realized he was alone.\n\nAll of his men huddled at the bottom of the stairs and none were in a hurry to climb. There even seemed to be less of them. Some had probably runoff. For crossbows– no doubt.\n\nThe witcher and witcheress, calmly, without hurrying, walked down the blood slicked stairs of castle Stygga. The stood close to each other, shoulder to shoulder, beguiling the fast movements of their swords.\n\nSkellen stepped back. And did not stop retreating until he reached the bottom. When he was surrounded by his men, he realized how far he had come. He cursed helplessly.\n\n\"Men!\" he shouted, but his voice broke. \"Forward! At them at once! Follow me!\"\n\n\"Get them yourself,\" growled one of them and raised his hand covered in fisstech to his nose. The Owl swung at his and he sprinkled white powered allover his face, sleeve and coat lapels.\n\nThe witcher and witcheress passed another platform.\n\n\"When they get down here, they will be easier to surround,\" Skellen encouraged. \"Men, to arms!\"\n\nGeralt looked at Cir and almost screamed with rage when he noticed silver threads among her grey hair. He restrained himself. This was not the time for anger.\n\n\"Be careful,\" he said flatly. \"Stay close tome.\"\n\n\"I'll always be close to you. '\n\n\"Down there it is going to be tricky.\"\n\n\"I know, but we'll be together. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We are together.\"\n\n\"I'm herewith you, ' said Yennefer, walking down behind them on the slippery stairs.\n\n\"Together! All together!\" shouted the Owl.\n\nThe men who had run for the crossbows, quickly returned. Without the crossbows, but with horror in their eyes.\n\nFrom the three corridors leading away from the stairs came the roar and banging of doors being broken down with axes. And the sound of heavy boots marching. All of a sudden from the three corridors flowed soldiers with black helmets, shields and the silver salamander on their coats. Skellen's mercenaries, intimidated by their shouts and threats, threw down their weapons. Those who hesitated were threatened with crossbows and pikes. After a thundering call to drop all weapons, everyone listened, because they could seethe black soldiers were burning for an excuse to do something. The Owl stood on a step and crossed his arms.\n\n\"The miraculous rescue,\" Ciri said in a whisper.\n\nGeralt shook his head.\n\nThe crossbows and spears were turned in their direction as well.\n\n\"Glaeddyvan Vort!\"\n\nResisting was pointless.\n\nSoldiers swarmed out of the mouth of the corridors like an army of black ants and both the witcher and the witcheress were very, very tired. But they did not throw down their swords. They carefully placed them on the steps. Geralt felt the warmth from Ciri's arm and could hear her breathing.\n\nAbove, avoiding the corpses and spilled blood, came Yennefer. She showed the soldiers her empty hands and sat down heavily on the step next to Geralt and Ciri. The witcher could felt the heat on his other arm. It is a pity it we could not stay this way forever, he thought. And he knew he could not." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Owl's men were tied up and led away." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Suddenly among the soldiers appeared the high ranking officers, recognizable by the white plumes and the silver trim on their breastplates, and by the respect that the other soldiers gave them.\n\nThe soldiers before one of those officers, whose helmet had more silver ornaments than any other, parted with exceptional respect. Almost bowing.\n\nHe stopped in front of Skellen. The Owl– it was clearly visible even in the flickering light of the torches and braziers– went pale as a sheet of paper.\n\n\"Stefan Skellen,\" the officer said in a voice that rang metallically around the vaulted room. \"I'll see you in court. You'll be sentence for treason.\"\n\nThe Owl was led out, but his hands were not tied.\n\nThe officer turned around. Upstairs a burning tapestry tore itself from the wall, and floated down like a large fiery bird. The red flames gleamed on the silver ornaments on his helmet and his lowered visor, forged like all the helmets of the black soldiers into the monstrous form of a jagged mouth.\n\nNow it's our turn, thought Geralt. He was right. The officer stared at Ciri. His eyes shone through the opening in his visor, watching everything without missing a detail. Her paleness. The scar on her cheek. The blood on her sleeve and hands. The white streaks in her hair.\n\nThen he turned his eyes to the witcher.\n\n\"Vilgefortz?\" he asked in a sonorous voice.\n\nGeralt shook his head.\n\n\"Cahir aep Ceallach?\"\n\nAnother shake of his head.\n\n\"A slaughterhouse,\" said the officer, looking at the staircase. \"A bloody slaughterhouse. We'll he who lives by the sword... At least you spared the hangman some work. You have travelled along way, witcher. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Geralt did not respond." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ciri sniffed again and wiped her nose on the back of her hand. Yennefer again scolded her with her eyes. The Nilfgaardian noticed it and smiled.\n\n\"You came from the other end of the world,\" he continued. \"For her and her. If only for that, something should be done. Lord de Rideaux!\"\n\n\"At your service, Your Imperial Majesty!\"\n\nThe witcher was not surprised.\n\n\"Find us a discrete chamber, where I can rest and talk undisturbed with Geralt of Rivia. During that time, please provide all available services and convenience to both ladies. Obviously under the constant watch of guards.\"\n\n\"As you wish, Your Majesty!\"\n\n\"Geralt, follow me, please.\"\n\nThe witcher rose. He looked at Ciri and Yennefer, wanting to calm them, wanting to warning them not to try any nonsense. But it was not needed– they were both extremely tired. And resigned.\n\n\"You have come along way,\" repeated Emhyr var Emreis, Deithwen Addan yn Carn aep Morvudd, the White Flam Dancing on the Barrows of his Enemies.\n\nI don't know,\" Geralt said calmly, \"yours appears to have been longer, Duny.\"\n\n\"You've recognized me, \"the Emperor smiled.\"A lack of beard and a change of behavior changed me completely. The people who had seen meat Cintra, and came to Nilfgaard to have audience with me, no longer recognized me. And you saw me only once, after all, sixteen years ago. I was so etched in your memory? '\n\n\"I did not recognize you, you've actually change very much. I figured out who you are already, sometime ago. Not without outside help and guidance, I guessed what role you were to play in family incest with Ciri. And in one of my nightmares I once dreamed of hideous incest. And here you are, in the flesh. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You can hardly keep your feet,\" Emhyr said coldly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And your impertinence is forcing you to be even weaker. I invite you to sit in the presence of the Emperor. I grant you the privilege of... life.\"\n\nGeralt, with relief, sat. Emhyr stood leaning against a carved cabinet.\n\n\"You saved my daughter's life, \"he said.\"Several times. I thank you for that. On behalf of me and on behalf of my descendants. '\n\n\"You leave me speechless.\"\n\n\"Cirilla,\" Emhyr said ignoring the sarcasm, \"is going to Nilfgaard. In due time she will become the Empress. Like dozens of girls who become queens, without previously knowing her husband. Oftentimes it without a good concept of the first encounter with their husband. Often they are disappointed by the first few days... and nights of marriage. Cirilla is not the first.\"\n\nGeralt declined to comment.\n\n\"Cirilla,\" continued the Emperor, \"will be happy, like most of the queens I just spoke about. It will come with time. I will not demand love from her but will transfer it to the son that Cirilla will bear for me. Archduke and future Emperor. An Emperor, who will beget a son. A son who will be ruler of the world and who will save the world from destruction. So says the prophecy, whose precise content, only I know...\"\n\nThe White Flame thought fora moment and continued.\n\n\"It is clear that Cirilla must never know who I really am. The secret must die. Along with those who know it.\"\n\n\"Sure\" Geralt nodded. \"It could not be clearer.\"\n\n\"You cannot help noticing,\" Emhyr said after a moment, \"the hand of fate in everything that has happened. All of it. Also in your actions. From the very beginning.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Rather, I seethe hand of Vilgefortz. It was he who sent you to Cintra, right? When you were an enchanted hedgehog? It was he who made Pavetta...\"\n\n\"You are shooting in the dark,\" Emhyr interrupted abruptly, throwing his salamander cloak over his shoulder. \"You don't know anything. And you don't need to know. I did not ask you hereto relate the story of my life. Nor to explain myself to you. The only thing you deserve is to ensure that the girl will come to no harm. I do not have any debts to you, witcher. No...\"\n\n\"You!\" Geralt interrupted. \"You broke a signed contract. You broke your word! You lied! These are your debts, Duny! You broke your oaths as a prince, and you have debts as an Emperor. With imperial interest. For ten years!\"\n\n\"Is that all?\"\n\n\"That's it. Because that is all that is mine, nothing more. But no less! I had to introduce myself to collect the girl when she turned six. I waited on the agreed upon date, but you wanted to steal the child before that time. But the fates, of which you speak, have mocked you. During the next ten years you tired to fight destiny. Now it is your turn, you have Ciri, your own daughter, who you once shamefully deprived of parents and with whom you now want to shamelessly spawn incestuous offspring. You don't ask for her love? Pah, you don't have the right to her love! Between us, Duny, how can you look her in the eyes? '\n\n\"The end justifies the means,\" the Emperor said flatly. \"I do it for the future of the world. For its salvation.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If you have to save the world like this,\" the witcher lifted his head, \"this world would be better off disappearing. Believe me, Duny; it would be better to perish.\"\n\n\"You are weak,\" Emhyr var Emreis said gently. \"Do not get excited, you look like you're about to faint. '\n\nHe moved from the cabinet, pulled up a chair and sat down. The witcher's head was indeed spinning.\n\n\"The Iron Hedgehog,\" Emhyr var Emreis said calmly and quietly, \"was away of forcing my father to cooperate with the usurper to the throne. After the coup, my father, the Emperor was deposed, imprisoned and tortured. He did not break; however, because the usurping Duke devised something else– before his eyes, he had a hired sorcerer turn his only son into a monster. The sorcerer also had a sense of humor. In our language, Emhyr means hedgehog. My father did not break then, so he was killed. I was driven by mockery and insults to the forest and chased by dogs. Fortunately they did not pursue me too fiercely, because the sorcerer botched the job, and from midnight until dawn I returned to human form, it saved my life. I was just thirteen years old. I knew several people on whose fidelity I could rely on. But even so, I had to flee the country. A crackpot astrologer called Xarthisius had read in the stars that the cure to the spell could be found in the North, beyond the Marnadal Steps. Later, as the Emperor, I gave him in payment for his services a tower and good equipment. At that time he had to work with borrow equipment. As for what happened at Cintra, you already know, and I won't waste your time. The truth is that Vilgefortz had nothing to do with it. First, I still didn't know him. And second, I still felt a deep aversion to sorcerers. To this day, I still do not like them. Oh by the way, when I reclaimed the throne, I apprehended the sorcerer who had served the usurper and who had turned me into a monster in front of my father. I, too, showed a sense of humor. The sorcerer's name was Braathens, which in our language is the same as the word'fried\". Well, enough digression, back to the" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "subject at hand. After the birth of Ciri, Vilgefortz secretly visited me in Cintra. He introduced himself as a confidant of those who remained faithful tome in Nilfgaard. He offered me his help and soon demonstrated that he could help. When I asked incredulously the motives for his actions, he did not deny relying on my gratitude. His plans were to win wealth and power, which the future Emperor of Nilfgaard would provide him– me. A mighty ruler who would rule half the world and raise offspring, who would dominate the whole world. The wizard bluntly admitted that he wish to achieve a high position. The he pulled out a scroll tied with snakeskin and acquainted me with the content. So I knew of the prophecy, I learned about the future fate of the world and I realized what I must do. And I have come to believe that the end justifies the means. '\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Meanwhile, in Nilfgaard,\" Emhyr ignored Geralt's comment,\"my business was on track. My supporter had gained more and more influence and had won a group of army officers and cadets over to our side and prepared fora coup. However, I was also imperative. In person. The rightful heir to the throne and imperial crown, the rightful Emreis of the Emreis lineage. I would be the flag of revolution. Between you and me, a lot of revolutionaries harbored a hope that that was all I would be. Those who are still alive still can't get over it. But I digress. I had to go home. It was time that Duny, Prince of Maecht and false prince of Cintra, claim his heritage. However, I had not forgotten about the prophecy. I had to go back therewith Ciri. But Calanthe was very carefully looking over my shoulder.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"She never trusted you.\"\n\n\"I know. I think she knew something about the prophecy. She would do anything to stop me and Cintra was in her power. It was clear, I had to go back to Nilfgaard, but in away that no one would know that I was Duny and that Ciri was my daughter. Vilgefortz suggested away. Duny, Pavetta and their child were to die, disappear without a trace...\"\n\n\"The faked sinking ship.\"\n\n\"Right. While sailing from Skellige to Cintra we had been driven by magic to the Sedna Abyss, where Vilgefortz pulled our boat into the maelstrom. I, Pavetta and Ciri would be close in a specially protected cabin and survive. The crew...\"\n\n\"They would not survive,\" finished the witcher. \"Then began your journey over the corpses.\"\n\n\"It started a little earlier,\" he said after a moment in a dully voice. \"When it became clear that Ciri was not onboard.\"\n\nGeralt raised his eyebrows.\n\n\"Alas,\" said the Emperor flatly. \"I underestimated Pavetta in my plans. This melancholy girl with downcast eye constantly watched me and my intentions. Just before leaving she smuggled our daughter back to the mainland. I raved. She, too. She had an attack of hysteria. In the scuffle... she fell overboard. Before I could jump in behind her, Vilgefortz pulled the ship into the maelstrom. I hit my head and lost consciousness. I survived only by a miracle, caught in the rigging. I woke up and bandaged up. I had a broken arm and...\"\n\n\"I wonder,\" said the witcher coldly, \"what a man fells after murdering his wife?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Worse than a mangy dog,\" Emhyr replied promptly. \"I felt worse than a mangy dog, like a true scoundrel. Even the fact that I never loved her didn't change that. The end justified the means. However, I regret her death, I did not want it and I did not plan it. Pavetta died accidentally. '\n\n\"You're lying, \"Geralt said dryly,\"and it does not become an Emperor. Pavetta could not live. She would have denounced you. She would never let you do what you intend to do to Ciri. '\n\n\"She would have lived,\" Emhyr contradicted him. \"Somewhere else... Somewhere faraway. There are many remote castles... perhaps Darn Rowan... I would not have killed her...\"\n\n\"Even for the purpose that justifies the means?\"\n\n\"Always,\" the Emperor rubbed his forehead, \"you use a less drastic solution. There are always many options available.\"\n\n\"Not always,\" said the witcher, looking into his eyes. Emhyr avoided his gaze.\n\n\"Just what I thought,\" Geralt nodded. \"Finish your story. Time is running out.\"\n\n\"Calanthe guarded her granddaughter like the apple of her eye. I could not even dream of kidnap... My relationship with Vilgefortz had cooled considerably, and I still held a grudge against other sorcerers... But the military and aristocracy were pushing me to go to war, encouraging me to attack Cintra. The nation needed living space and the vox populi would be considered this my test as Emperor. I decided to kill two birds with one stone. I would take in one fell swoop, Cintra and Ciri. The rest you know.\"\n\n\"Yes, I know,\" said Geralt. \"Thanks for the chat, Duny. Appreciate you take the time, but let's not wait any longer. I am very tired. I've seen the death of friends who followed me here from the end of the world. To save your daughter. They did not even know her, except for Cahir; none of them had seen her. They came to save her because there was something in them that was worthy and noble. And for what? To find death. I don't think that is fair. And if anyone is interested, I'm not satisfied. Because a story in which good people die and the rogues live is bullshit. I have no more strength, Emperor. Call your men.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Witcher...\"\n\n\"The secret must die along with those who know it, you said so yourself. You have no other way out. There are no other solutions. If I escape from prison I'll come for Ciri. It is the price I must pay and you know it. '\n\n\"I know it.\"\n\n\"You can spare Yennefer's life. She does not know the secret. '\n\n\"She,\" Emhyr said seriously, \"would pay any price to take my Ciri. And to avenge your death.\"\n\n\"True,\" said the witcher. \"I almost forgot how much she loves the girl. You're right, Duny. We cannot escape our destiny. I have a request... '\n\n\"I'm listening. '\n\n\"Let me say goodbye to both of them. Then I am at your disposal.\"\n\nEmhyr stood up, walked to the window and stared out the dark portal.\n\n\"I cannot deny this. But...\"\n\n\"Do not worry; I won't say anything to Ciri. It would hurt her severely, if I told her who you are. And I cannot hurt her. '\n\nAfter along silence, Emhyr turned from the window.\n\n\"Maybe I do have some debt to you,\" he turned on his heel. \"Listen to what I have to offer. Once, long ago, when people still valued truth, honor and pride, they stood behind their words and feared only shame, it would happened that a person sentenced to death could escape humiliation by being handed a dagger or razor, and stepping into a tub of warm water and opening a vein. Do you think that...\"\n\n\"Command a tub to be filled.\"\n\n\"Do you believe,\" the Emperor said quietly, \"that the Lady Yennefer would accompany you in the tub?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm pretty sure. But I will have to ask. She has quite a rebellious nature. '\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n---\n\nYennefer agreed without hesitation.\n\n\"Full circle,\" she said, staring speculatively at her wrist. \"Uroboros is biting his own tail.\"\n\n---\n\n\"I don't understand, \"Ciri spluttered like an angry cat,\"I don't see why I should go with him! Why? Where are you going?\"\n\n\"My daughter,\" Yennefer said quietly. \"This is your destiny. You'll see, it cannot be otherwise. '\n\n\"And you?\"\n\n\"Us,\" Yennefer looked at Geralt, \"a different destiny awaits us. Nor can it be otherwise. Come tome, my daughter. Hold me tight.\"\n\n\"They want to kill you! I will not allow it! After all, we have only just been reunited! This is not fair!\"\n\n\"He who lives by the sword,\" Emhyr var Emreis said dully, \"dies by the sword. They both fought with me and lost. But they lose with dignity.\"\n\nCiri, in three steps stood before him, Geralt silently gasped. He heard Yennefer sigh. Bloody hell, he thought, anyone can see it! Everyone in the Black Ones army will see it! The same attitude, the same sparkling eyes, the same gesture with her mouth, the way she crosses her arms over her chest. Fortunately she inherited her mother's ashen mane. But even so, those who aren't blind can see whose blood she is.\n\n\"You,\" Ciri said, directing an angry look at Emhyr. \"You won. And you think you won with dignity?\"\n\nEmhyr var Emreis did not respond. He just smiled and eyed the angry girl. Ciri clenched her teeth." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So many dead, so many dead for this end? And they lost with honor? Death is an honor? Only a beast would think so. I have looked at death up close and have not become a beast. And it will never happen.\"\n\nHe did not answer. He looked at her, seeming to drink her in.\n\n\"I know,\" she hissed, \"what you are up to. What you want to do with me. I'll tell you now– I will not let you touch me. And if you do... I'll kill you. Even if tied up. When you sleep, I'll bite through your throat... '\n\nThe Emperor with a quick gesture silenced the murmuring of his officers.\n\n\"This will happen,\" he drawled, not taking his eyes from Ciri, \"as intended. Say goodbye to your friends, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon.\"\n\nCiri looked at the witcher, Geralt made a dismissive motion with his head. The girl sighed. She hugged Yennefer and whispered together fora longtime. Ciri then approached Geralt.\n\n\"A pity,\" she said quietly. \"It seemed that everything was beginning to improve.\"\n\n\"It seemed to be so,\" said the witcher.\n\nThey embraced.\n\n\"Be brave.\"\n\n\"He will not have me,\" she whispered. \"He will not have me, don't worry. I will escape him. I know away... '\n\n\"Do not kill him. Remember, Ciri. You cannot!\"\n\n\"Fear not, I didn't even think about it. You know, Geralt, I've had enough of killing. There has been all too much.\"\n\n\"Too much. Goodbye, witcheress.\"\n\n\"Goodbye, witcher.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Don't cry. '\n\n\"That is easy for you to say.\"\n\nEmhyr var Emreis, Emperor of Nilfgaard escorted the witcher and the sorceress to the bath chamber, to a large marble bathtub filled with warm, fragrant water.\n\n\"Goodbye,\" he said. \"Take your time. I'm leaving, but I will leave people her to carryout my orders. When you are ready, call out. A Lieutenant will bring a knife. But as I said, do not rush. '\n\n\"We appreciate it,\" Yennefer said seriously. \"Imperial Majesty?\"\n\n\"I'm listening. '\n\n\"I would ask you not to hurt my daughter. I do not want to die with the notion that she is crying.\"\n\nEmhyr was silent fora time. Avery longtime. He bowed his head and leaned on the door.\n\n\"Lady Yennefer,\" he finally said, an unreadable expression on his face. \"You can be sure that I will not hurt yours and Geralt's daughter. I have trampled the corpses of people and danced on the barrows of my enemies. I thought that was all I could look forward to. But your suspicions are unfounded-will never be able to hurt her. I know that now. Thank you to you both. Goodbye. '\n\nHe walked out of the bath chamber and quietly closed the door. Geralt sighed.\n\n\"Should we undress?\" he looked at the steam rising above the tub. \"I'd hate for them to pull me out as a naked corpse... '\n\n\"I imagine it does not matter how they pull us out,\" Yennefer pulled off her shoes and socks and with quick movement began to unbutton her dress. \"Even though this is my last hour, I will not bathe dressed.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She pulled her shirt over her head and jumped into the tub, splashing the water.\n\n\"Well, Geralt? Why are you standing like a statue?\"\n\n\"Because I had forgotten how beautiful you are.\"\n\n\"You're very forgetful. Now, get in the water. '\n\nWhen he sat down beside her, she immediately threw her arms around his neck. He kissed her, stroking her waist above the water and under it.\n\n\"Is this,\" he asked for the record, \"the right time?\"\n\n\"For this,\" she murmured, dipping one hand under the water and touching him, \"every time is appropriate. Emhyr repeated twice that we were not to rush. What better way to spend the last few moments we have been given? Why mourn and lament? It's not worth it. Why examine our consciences? It is stupid and trivial. '\n\n\"That's not what I meant. '\n\n\"Then what?\"\n\n\"If the water cools down,\" he murmured caressing her breasts, \"then the cuts will be painful.\"\n\n\"For pleasure,\" Yennefer dipped a secondhand below the water, \"it is worth paying a little pain. Are you afraid of pain?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Me neither. Come, sit on the edge. I love you, but I will not, damn it, dive.\"\n\n\"Oh, oh...\" said Yennefer tilting her head so that he wet hair arched over her back. \"Wow...\"\n\n\"I love you, Yen.\"\n\n\"I love you too, Geralt.\"\n\n\"It's time. Let's call.\"\n\n\"Let's call. '\n\nThey called out. First the witcher called and then the sorceress after him. When they received no response, the shouted in unison." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"We are ready!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Give us the knife! Hey! Damn it! The water is cooling!\"\n\n\"Then get out of it,\" Ciri said, peering into the bath chamber. \"They're all gone. '\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Yes. They are all gone. Besides the three of us, there is not a soul here. Get dressed. You look awfully ridiculous naked.\"\n\nAs they dress, their hands began to tremble. Both of them. With utmost difficulty they dealt with the buckles, hooks and buttons. Ciri chattered.\n\n\"They are gone. Except for ourselves. Each and everyone of them. They took all the prisoners, mounted their horses and left. They left no one behind.\"\n\n\"They left no one?\"\n\n\"Nobody.\"\n\n\"Incomprehensible,\" Geralt shook his head. \"I don't understand it. '\n\n\"And nothing happened,\" Yennefer cleared her throat, \"to explain this?\"\n\n\"No,\" Ciri replied quickly, \"nothing.\"\n\nShe lied.\n\nAt first, she had tried to appear fine. Erect, proud, head held high and her face impassive, while being pushed into the gloved hands of the Black knights, while throwing bold and challenging looks and those helmets which made her so afraid. No one was touching her now, after the officer with the silver ornament on his helm growled at his officers.\n\nShe walked between two rows of soldiers who escorted her to the gate. Their boots stomped loudly, their chainmail clinked and their weapons rattled.\n\nAfter advancing a few steps, she looked back for the first time, a little time later; she did it a second time. She would never see them again anymore, she suddenly realized with terrifying clarity." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Neither Geralt nor Yennefer." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Never again.\n\nThat awareness, in one fell swoop wiped away her fake mask of courage. Ciri's face contracted and contorted her eyes filled with tears, and her nose ran. The girl fought with all her might, but in vain. A wave broke the dam as the tears made an appearance.\n\nThe Nilfgaardians in salamander cloaks looked on silently. And amazed. Some had seen heron the stairs covered in blood, had seen her talking with the Emperor. A witcheress with a sword, who was defying the Emperor himself. And now they were stunned, seeing a simple girl crying and sobbing.\n\nShe was aware of their gazes. Their eyes were burning like fire, prickling her skin. She struggled, but to no avail. The more she tried to restrain herself, the more she cried.\n\nShe slowed and then stopped. The escort also stopped. But only fora moment. A grouchy officer grabbed her with iron hard hands under her arms. Ciri glanced over her shoulder again. She offered no resistance. But wailed louder, more desperate.\n\nThe Emperor, Emhyr var Emreis stopped, this dark man whose face had awakened strange and confusing memories. With a sharp order, he ordered he loose. Ciri sniffed and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. Seeing the Emperor approach he stifled a sob and proudly raised her head. Although at the time she realize how ridiculous she must look.\n\nEmhyr watched her fora longtime. Without a word. Then he approached and reached for her.\n\nCiri, whose reactions to such movements were to instinctively recoil, did not react this time to her surprise. Even greater washer surprise to find that the contact with this man was not distasteful.\n\nHe touched her hair, as if to count the snowy strings. He touched her cheek, his fingertips running along the old scar. Then he hugged her, cuddling her close to his chest, stroking the back of her head. And she, shaking and crying uncontrollably, let him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A strange thing, fate,\" she heard him whisper faintly. \"Goodbye, my daughter.\"\n\n\"What did he say?\"\n\nCiri's face clouded.\n\n\"He said, Va Faill, luned. In the elder speech– Goodbye, my daughter.\"\n\n\"I know,\" Yennefer nodded. \"What happened then?\"\n\n\"Then... Then he let me go, he turned around and walked away. He shouted orders. And they all left. They passed me, quite indifferently, stomping, pounding and rattling in their armor, out the gate. I heard neighing and galloping. I'd don't understand. Although if you think about it...\"\n\n\"Ciri.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Do not think.\"\n\n\"Castle Stygga,\" repeated Philippa Eilhart, looking out from under her long eyelashes at Fringilla Vigo.\n\nFringilla did not blush. IN the last three months she had been able to product a magic cream which acted on blood vessels. Thanks to that cream the blush on her face didn't show, and no one could know that she was ashamed.\n\n\"Vilgefortz was hiding in castle Stygga,\" Assire var Anahid confirmed. \"It is in Ebbing on the shore of a mountain lake whose name, my informant, a common soldier, cannot remember.\"\n\n\"You used the past tense,\" Francesca Findabair said.\n\n\"Correct,\" Philippa took control again. \"Because Vilgefortz is dead, my dear colleague. He and his companions are dead. This service was provided by our good friend the witcher Geralt of Rivia. Obviously we underestimated him. We all do. We made a mistake. We all do. Some more than others.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All the sorceresses as if on command looked at Fringilla, but the cream was working reliably. Assire var Anahid sighed. Philippa slapped her hand on the table.\n\n\"Although it may seem like an excuse,\" she said dryly, \"our activities associated with the war and the preparation of the peace negotiations and the fact that the Lodge was not involved with the case and final solution of Vilgefortz, have to be considered as a failure on our part. Something like this must not be repeated, dear ladies.\"\n\nThe Lodge– except for Fringilla who was pale as a corpse– shook their heads.\n\n\"At the moment,\" Philippa said, \"Witcher Geralt is somewhere in Ebbing. Along with Yennefer and Ciri. We will need to consider how to find them...\"\n\n\"And the castle?\" Sabrina Glevissig interrupted. \"Have you forgotten to do something about that, Philippa?\"\n\n\"No, I have not forgotten. If there is going to be a legend, one must have the proper version and one in our favor. I'll entrust this task to you, Sabrina. Take Keira and Triss and take care of it. See that no trace is left. '\n\nThe explosion was heard in Maecht, the flash– because it happened at night– was visible even in Metinna and Geso. A series of earthquakes caused by the explosion were felt even further. In virtually all corners of the world." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Last Wish\n\nBlood of Elves\n\nTime of Contempt\n\nBaptism of Fire\n\nSword of Destiny\n\nThe Tower of the Swallow" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "THE LADY OFT HE LAKE\n\nA NDRZEJ S APKOWSKI" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Congreve, Estella Vel Stella, – The daughter of Otto of Congreve, married to the old Count Liddertal. Upon the death of the latter, rapidly recovered, managed her inheritance most judiciously, amassing for herself a not inconsiderable fortune. Enjoying the esteem of the emperor Emhyr var Emreis (sic), she was considered a person of great importance by the court. While she had no official duties, it was generally believed that the emperor was in the habit of paying considerable attention to her words and opinions. Because of her close personal relationship with the young Empress Cirilla Fiona (sic), whom she loved like her own daughter, she was jokingly referred to as the'Imperial mother-in-law\". She outlived both the Emperor and the Empress, and died in 1331; as to her huge fortune, it fell to distant\n\nrelatives on the Liddertal side of the family, called the Whites; being stupid and short-sighted, they squandered every bit of their inheritance.\n\nEffenberg and Talbot\n\nEncyclopaedia Maxima Mundi, tome III\n\nThe man stealthily approaching the camp was very clever and cunning. His position changed quickly and he moved silently and swiftly so that his approach would not be noticed by anyone. Anyone but Boreas Mun. Boreas was very skilful in approaching maneuvers.\n\n\"Show yourself, stranger,\" he called, making sure to make his voice sound confident and bold. \"Your tricks won't work on me. I can see you out there! '\n\nOne of the boulders on the hillside against the starry sky moved and turned into the silhouette of a human figure.\n\nBoreas turned the spit roast as the meat was burning. Pretending to comfortably support himself, he put his hand on the handle of his bow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My property is not worth much,\" he said in a calm tone with a thread of warning. \"I only have a few things, but I do not intend to lose them. I will defend them to the death.\"\n\n\"I'm not a thief, \"said the deep voice of the man hiding among the rocks.\"I am a pilgrim. '\n\nThe pilgrim was tall and robust, measuring about seven feet and Boreas noticed quite the stomach on him. He held a cane in his hand that was a thick as a pole carts and looked like an ordinary pilgrim stick. Boreas Mun wondered how suck a big, hulking man could move with such agility.\n\nHe became concerned. His bow, a composite bow with seventy pounds of pressure, which could dispatch an elk at a hundred paces, suddenly seemed like a fragile child's toy.\n\n\"I am a pilgrim,\" the figure repeated. \"I have no evil...\"\n\n\"The other one,\" Boreas interrupted sharply, \"can come out too!\"\n\n\"What other...\" the pilgrim stuttered and stopped, seeing from the darkness on the opposite side of the fire, emerge a slim, noiseless shadow.\n\nThis time Boreas Mun was surprised. The other man was an elf– his expert trackers eye detected it right away by the way he moved. And being surprised by an elf had no shame.\n\n\"I apologize,\" the elf said, his voice slightly hoarse. \"I did not hide from the two of you out of malice, but out of caution. Um, I'd recommend you turn the spit a bit. '\n\n\"He's right, \"said the stranger, leaning on his cane and sniffing audibly.\"The way the meat smells, it's overdone.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Boreas turned the spit, sighed, cleared his throat and sighed again.\n\n\"Gentlemen, please sit down,\" he said finally. \"Wait a few minutes and the roast will be done. I say, it is a knave who refuses hospitality to pilgrims on the road.\"\n\nGrease dripped into the fire and the flame blazed brighter. The pilgrim whore a felt hat with a wide brim, which hid his face quite effectively in shadow. The elf wore around his head a colorful scarf, which did not hide his face. When they saw him in the firelight, the tracker and the pilgrim winced. They made no sound, just held their breaths at the sight of his face, which was once beautifully elven, but now was disfigured by an ugly scar that ran diagonally across his forehead, brow, nose and cheek to chin.\n\nBoreas Mun grunted and turned the spit again.\n\n\"The smell,\" he did not ask, but made a statement of fact, \"is what attracted you to my camp.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" said the pilgrim with the hat, \"I don't want to brag, but I smelled your roast at quite a distance. But I kept a proper vigilance. The fire, that I approached yesterday, the ragged savages were roasting a woman. '\n\n\"That is true,\" said the elf. \"The next morning I found human bones in the ashes.\"\n\n\"The next morning?\" the tall pilgrim repeated.\n\n\"How long have you been following in my footsteps, my Lord elf?\"\n\n\"A longtime.\"\n\n\"What kept you from revealing your presence?\"\n\n\"Caution.\"\n\n\"The Elskerdeg Pass,\" Boreas Mun said turning the spit and breaking the awkward silence, \"does not enjoy the best reputation. I have also seen bones in fires, corpses on stakes and hanging from trees. In the surrounding mountains are hidden outlaws, outcasts and the followers of perverted cults. And creatures who only see a man by himself as food. Supposedly.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Not supposedly,\" said the elf. \"Definitely. And the further east you go into the mountains, the worse it gets.\"\n\n\"Are you also headed east? For Elskerdeg? To Zerrikania? Or even further, to Haakland?\"\n\nNeither the pilgrim or the elf answered. Boreas Mun didn't really expect one. First, the question was indiscreet. Second, it was stupid. From where they were standing it was only possible to head east. Through the Elskerdeg Pass. Where he was headed.\n\n\"The roast is ready,\" Boreas, with a deft movement, which was also intended as a warning, flicked open a butterfly knife. \"Come, gentlemen, don't be shy. '\n\nThe pilgrim took out a hunting knife and the elf a stiletto which was by no means a kitchen implement. All three, however, used their blades to cut the food. For sometime all that could be heard was the crunch and crackle of eating and the sizzle of bones thrown into the fire.\n\nThe pilgrim belched dignified.\n\n\"Interesting animal,\" the pilgrim said, looking at the shoulder that he had just cleaned as if he had spent three days in an anthill. \"The taste reminds me of lamb, but it was a tender as a rabbit... I do not remember ever having eaten anything like it before.\"\n\n\"That was a skrekk,\" the elf said while crushing a bone between his teeth. \"But it does not resemble anything I have ever eaten.\"\n\nBoreas quietly cleared his throat. The barely perceptible undercurrent of amusement in the elf's voice proved that he knew that he was eating a huge mountain rat, with blood red eyes and sharp incisors, whose tail measured one and a half cubits. The tracker was not going to catch the giant rodent, but shot it in self-defense. He then, however, decided to roast it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He was a wise man, the thought coldly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He never would have eaten a rat that fed on garbage and waste. But the nearest community to the Elskerdeg Pass that was able to produce waste was over three hundred miles away. The rat-or the skrekk as the elf had called it-has been clean and healthy. It had no contact with civilization. Therefore it had not been dirty or carrying disease.\n\nFinally they finished the last of the meat, the ribs and bones went into the fire. The moon rose over the jagged peaks of the mountains. The wind fanned the flames and sparks flew, they would die off between the myriad of twinkling stars.\n\n\"Have you gentlemen been on the road long?\" Boreas Mun allowed himself another indiscreet question. \"How long since you went through the Solveiga Gate?\"\n\n\"Long ago, or recently,\" said the pilgrim. \"What does it matter? I passed through Solveiga two days after September's full moon. '\n\n\"For me it has been six days,\" said the elf.\n\n\"Ha,\" the tracker said, emboldened by their answers. \"I'm surprised that we did not met there, Because I was passing through at the same time. But I was on a horse. '\n\nHe paused, quenching gloomy thoughts and memories of his horse and its loss. He was sure that his casual companions had similar adventures. They could not have travelled the whole way on foot to catch him herein the vicinity of Elskerdeg.\n\n\"I gather,\" he continued, \"that you gentlemen started travelling just after the war and after the conclusion of the peace of Cintra. Naturally, I don't care, but I dare to presume that you, gentlemen were not satisfied with the order of things established at Cintra. '\n\nSilence reigned fora longtime around the fire but was eventually broken by the distant howl. A wolf, probably, although around the Elskerdeg Pass you could never be sure of anything." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"To be honest,\" the elf said unexpectedly, \"I found after the peace of Cintra there was no reason why the world should love me. Or me the new layout.\"\n\n\"My own case,\" said the pilgrim, crossing his arms over his powerful chest. \"was the same. Although I learned of it, as a friend of mine says, post factum.\"\n\nThere was along silence. The howling had ceased in the pass.\n\n\"In the beginning,\" continued the pilgrim, although Boreas and the elf were convinced that he would not, \"everything pointed to the fact that the peace of Cintra would bring changes for the better and set tolerable living conditions for this world. If not for all, at least for some...\"\n\n\"The kings,\" grunted Boreas, \"travelled to Cintra in April, if I recall.\"\n\n\"Exactly, April second,\" said the pilgrim. \"I remember it was the new moon.\"\n\nAlong the entire wall located under dark beams within a gallery, hung a row of shields with the colorful figures of heraldic emblems and the coats of arms of the nobility of Cintra. One glance was enough to detect the difference between the old faded coats of arms of the nobility of Cintra and the newly promoted families from the reign of Dagorad and Calanthe. The latter had vibrant colors which had not yet faded and you could not detect the slightest sign of woodworm.\n\nHowever, the most intense colors appeared on the shield that had been put upmost recently, those with the coat of arms of the Nilfgaardian nobles. Those who had distinguished themselves during the conquest of the country and had proven themselves during the five-year imperial administration.\n\nOnce we again hold Cintra, thought King Foltest, we will need to ensure that these coat of arms are not destroyed in a fervor of restoration. Politics is one thing, aesthetics another. Changes to a regime do not justify vandalism." }, { "from": "human", "value": "So this is where it all began, thought Dijkstra, looking around the large hall." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The famous engagement feast, during which appeared an iron hedgehog demanding Princess Pavetta's hand... And Queen Calanthe hired a witcher...\n\nHow amazing are the interwoven fates of humans, thought the spy, surprised by the banality of his own thoughts.\n\nIt's been five years, thought Queen Meve. Five years ago, the blood and brains of Calanthe, the Lioness of Cintra, exploded on the flagstones of that courtyard, which I can see through this window. Calanthe whose portrait we saw proudly hanging in the foyer, the last of the royal bloodline. After her daughter, Pavetta drowned, she was left with only her granddaughter Cirilla. And if it is true that Cirilla also died...\n\n\"Please,\" Cyrus Engelkind Hemmelfart the hierarch of Novigrad, waved his trembling hand, by virtue of his age, position and widespread respect he was to preside over the discussions. \"To your places please.\"\n\nThey sat at around table, where the seats were identified by mahogany tablets. Meve, Queen of Rivia and Lyria. Foltest, King of Temeria and his vassal, King Venzlav of Brugge. Demavend, King of Aedirn. Henselt, King of Kaedwen. Ethan, King of Cidaris. The young King Kistrin of Verden. The Duke Nitert, head of the regency council of Redania. And the Earl Dijkstra.\n\nWe should seek to get rid of this spy and remove him from the table of discussions, thought the hierarch. King Henselt and King Foltest, and even young King Kistrin, have\n\nalready allowed themselves a few sour comments to our Nilfgaardian representatives. This Sigismund Dijkstra is a person of dubious origins with an unacceptable past and reputation. We cannot afford to have such a person distorting the atmosphere of the deliberations." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The head of the Nilfgaardian delegation, Baron Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen, who sat at the round table directly opposite Dijkstra, greeted the spy with a curt diplomatic bow. Seeing that everyone was already seated, the hierarch of Novigrad also sat. Not without the help of a few pages that held his trembling hands. The hierarch sat on a chair made years ago for Queen Calanthe. The chair had a beautifully carved backing, towering over the other chairs.\n\nEven though this was around table, it was known who was the boss.\n\nSo it was here, thought Triss Merigold, looking around the room, looking at the tapestries, painting and numerous hunting trophies. Herein this room, after the devastation of the throne room, a memorable conversation took place between Calanthe, the witcher, Pavetta and an enchanted hedgehog. Here the Queen agreed to a strange marriage. After all, the princess was already pregnant and Ciri was born less than eight months later... Ciri, the heiress to the throne, the young lion with the Lioness's blood... Ciri, my little sister. Who is now apparently faraway to the south. Fortunately, no longer alone, she is with Geralt and Yennefer. She's safe.\n\nUnless they have lied tome again.\n\n\"Take a seat, ladies,\" Philippa Eilhart said, who Triss had been watching suspiciously for sometime. \"The sovereigns of the world will in a moment begin to recite their inaugural speeches. I would not want us to miss a single word.\"\n\nThe sorceresses, interrupting their gossip and quickly took their seats. Síle de Tansarville, wore a silver boa, a feminine accent to her austere black outfit. Assire var Anahid was dressed in a violet silk dress, which was graceful and combined simplicity and modest elegance. Francesca Findabair was majestic as ever. Ida Emean aep Sivney was mysterious as usual. Margarita Laux-Antille was dignified and serious. Sabrina Glevissig was adorned with turquoise. Keira Metz was dressed in green and lemon yellow. And Fringilla Vigo. Depressed, sad, pale, morbid and with a literal corpse-like pallor." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Collaborate on the narrative and advance it.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 13" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The head of the Nilfgaardian delegation, Baron Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen, who sat at the round table directly opposite Dijkstra, greeted the spy with a curt diplomatic bow. Seeing that everyone was already seated, the hierarch of Novigrad also sat. Not without the help of a few pages that held his trembling hands. The hierarch sat on a chair made years ago for Queen Calanthe. The chair had a beautifully carved backing, towering over the other chairs.\n\nEven though this was around table, it was known who was the boss.\n\nSo it was here, thought Triss Merigold, looking around the room, looking at the tapestries, painting and numerous hunting trophies. Herein this room, after the devastation of the throne room, a memorable conversation took place between Calanthe, the witcher, Pavetta and an enchanted hedgehog. Here the Queen agreed to a strange marriage. After all, the princess was already pregnant and Ciri was born less than eight months later... Ciri, the heiress to the throne, the young lion with the Lioness's blood... Ciri, my little sister. Who is now apparently faraway to the south. Fortunately, no longer alone, she is with Geralt and Yennefer. She's safe.\n\nUnless they have lied tome again.\n\n\"Take a seat, ladies,\" Philippa Eilhart said, who Triss had been watching suspiciously for sometime. \"The sovereigns of the world will in a moment begin to recite their inaugural speeches. I would not want us to miss a single word.\"\n\nThe sorceresses, interrupting their gossip and quickly took their seats. Síle de Tansarville, wore a silver boa, a feminine accent to her austere black outfit. Assire var Anahid was dressed in a violet silk dress, which was graceful and combined simplicity and modest elegance. Francesca Findabair was majestic as ever. Ida Emean aep Sivney was mysterious as usual. Margarita Laux-Antille was dignified and serious. Sabrina Glevissig was adorned with turquoise. Keira Metz was dressed in green and lemon yellow. And Fringilla Vigo. Depressed, sad, pale, morbid and with a literal corpse-like pallor." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Triss sat next to Keira and opposite Fringilla." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On the wall behind the Nilfgaardian witch was a picture of a rider galloping down an alley of alders. The trees limbs reached towards the rider and their black cavities that served as mouths laughed. Triss shivered involuntary.\n\nSet in the middle of the table was a telecommunicator. Philippa, with a spell, adjusted the image and sound.\n\n\"As you can see and hear,\" she said somewhat bitterly, \"in Cintra's throne room, just below us, on the ground floor, the sovereigns of the world are about to decide its fate. And we, here, one floor above them, will watch to make sure they don't make a mistake.\"\n\nThe howling in the pass was joined by other voices. Now Boreas had no doubt, they were certainly wolves.\n\n\"I too,\" he said, trying to encourage more conversation, \"did not expect much from these negotiations in Cintra. The truth is that no one I know counted on these negotiations bringing anything good.\"\n\n\"The important thing was,\" said the pilgrim, \"that the negotiations had begun. The common man, for that's what I consider myself to be, were well aware that the warring kings and emperor would destroy each other if they could, relentlessly. To stop the killing and sit\n\ndown around the table. It meant that they no longer had the strength. They were, simply speaking, powerless. And that powerlessness meant that no soldiers would kill the common man, burn his house, kill his children raped his women or sell his whole family into slavery. No, instead they gathered in Cintra and negotiate. Let us rejoice! '\n\nThe elf looked up from the burning logs which he was prodding with a stick.\n\n\"Even the common man,\" he said with obvious sarcasm, \"even in his moments of joy, should know that politics is also a war, only by other means. It should also be understood that such negotiations are merely a form of trade. It is conducted in an identical manner. Success in negotiation is based on concessions obtained. Something is given, something is lost. In other words, in order to buy something, something must be sold.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Indeed,\" the pilgrim said after a moment, \"Something so plain and obvious can be understood by even the simplest of men.\"\n\n\"No, no, a thousand times, no!\" cried King Henselt, smashing his two fists into the tabletop, overturning his drink and making the inkwell jump. \"I will not hear anymore discussions about it! No more haggling! No more, I say, deireádh!\"\n\n\"Henselt,\" Foltest said quietly in a conciliatory tone, \"don't hinder. And do not embarrass us by screaming in front of His Excellency. '\n\nShilard Fitz-Oesterlen, the negotiator on behalf of the Empire of Nilfgaard, bowed with a false smile, that suggested that the antics of the King of Kaedwen did not irritate or ultimately interest him.\n\n\"Are we going to start attacking each other,\" continued Foltest, \"like a pack of rabid dogs? Shame on you, Henselt.\"\n\n\"We have made arrangements with Nilfgaard in the thorny matter of Dol Angra,\" said Dijkstra. \"It would be foolish...\"\n\n\"I resent such comments!\" roared Henselt so loud he could have competed with a buffalo. \"I resent such rude comments, particularly from some fucking spy! I am the fucking anointed King!\"\n\n\"It can't be seen at first glance, ' Meve muttered.\n\nDemavend, turned away from looking at the shields on the rooms walls, smiling with distain, as if not concerned about the future of his kingdom.\n\n\"Enough!\" wheezed Henselt, his eyes rolling. \"Enough, by the gods. As I said, I won't give up an inch of land. Not one, not a single claim! I do not agree to the depletion of my kingdom by even a span, not even half an inch of earth! The gods have entrusted me with Kaedwen and therefore I would only be willing to surrender it to the gods! The Lower Marches is my territory... It has for centuries... '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Upper Aedirn,\" Dijkstra spoke again, \"has only been part of Kaedwen since last summer." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "More specifically, from the twenty-four of July last year. From the moment that Kaedwen sent in occupational forces.\"\n\n\"I ask,\" said Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen, \"that it be recorded ad futuram rei memorian, that the Empire of Nilfgaard had nothing to do with this annexation.\"\n\n\"Except for at that time you were plundering Vengerberg.\"\n\n\"Nihil ad rem!\"\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"Gentlemen!\" Foltest admonished.\n\n\"The Kaedwen army,\" fumed Henselt, \"entered the Lower Marches as liberators! My soldiers were greeted with flowers! My soldiers...\"\n\n\"Your bandits,\" said Demavend calmly, but his face betrayed the effort it cost to stay calm. \"Your bandits invaded my kingdom, murdered, raped and looted. Lady and gentlemen, we are gathered here fora week to discuss the future of the world. By the gods, is it to be the face of crime and looting? Should it be maintained in the lawless status quo? Should stolen goods remain in the hands of thugs and robbers?\"\n\nHenselt grabbed a map from the table, tore it in two and with a rapid movement threw it at Demavend. The King of Aedirn did not even move.\n\n\"My armies,\" Henselt spluttered, his face turning the color of a well aged wine, \"won the Marches from the Nilfgaardians. Your pitiful reign at that time was already in the past, Demavend. You probably don't realize, but if not for my troops, you would not even be ruling today. I'd like to see how you'd drive the Black Ones back over the Yaruga without my help. Without exaggeration I can say that you are only a king because of my kindness. But now my kindness ends! I will not let my kingdom be depleted! '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Neither will I,\" Demavend stood. \"We will never reach an agreement!\"\n\n\"Gentlemen,\" said Cyrus the hierarch in a conciliatory tone, who until then had been dozing. \"No doubt, we can always reach some compromise...\"\n\n\"The Empire of Nilfgaard,\" said Shilard, \"does not intend to accept any solution that would harm the country of the elves of Dol Blathanna. If necessary, My Lords, I will re-read the content of the memorandum...\"\n\nHenselt, Foltest and Dijkstra snorted, but Demavend looked at the Imperial ambassador calmly, almost benevolently.\n\n\"For the good of the people,\" he said, \"and to maintain the peace, I acknowledge the autonomy of Dol Blathanna. But not as a kingdom, but as a duchy. The condition is that the Duchess Enid an Gleanna pay me homage, and is committed to the equality of elves and humans rights and privileges. I am willing to do this, pro bono.\"\n\n\"Here,\" said Meve, \"are the words of a true king.\"\n\n\"Salus publica lex suprema est,\" added hierarch Hemmelfart, who for sometime had waited for the opportunity to boast of his knowledge of diplomatic vocabulary.\n\n\"I would like to add, however,\" Demavend continued, looking at the bloated Henselt, \"that Dol Blathanna's concession is not a precedent. This is the only breach of the integrity of my lands that I will accept. I will not recognize any additional distributions. The army of Kaedwen, which breached my boarders as an aggressor and occupier, has one week to leave the fortresses and castles that they have illegally occupied in Upper Aedirn. That is the condition for me to continue to take part in these negotiations. And Verba Volant, my secretary will add an official protocol in that sense. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Henselt?\" Foltest gave him a questioning look.\n\n\"Never!\" bellowed the King of Kaedwen, overturning his chair and jumping like a chimpanzee stung by a hornet. \"I will never give up the Marches! You'll have to go over my corpse! I will not give it up! Nothing can force me! Nothing! Over my dead body! '\n\nAnd to prove that he was a scholar he shouted.\n\n\"Non possumus!\"\n\n\"I'll give him non possumus, the fool! \"snapped Sabrina Glevissig in the chamber one floor above.\"Don't worry ladies, I'm going to make this stubborn fool surrender Upper Aedirn. His army will leave within ten days, it is clear. There is no question about it. If any of you ladies doubt this, I have aright to feel offended. '\n\nPhilippa Eilhart and Síle de Tansarville expressed their appreciation by bowing. Assire var Anahid thanked her with a smile.\n\n\"Let us return to the problem of Dol Blathanna,\" said Sabrina. \"We know the content of the memorandum of Emperor Emhyr. The kings down there have not have time to thoroughly discuss this issue, but they have already hinted at their approaches. The king whose voice carries most interest, you might say, is King Demavend.\"\n\n\"Demavend's position, \"Síle adjusted the fur boa around her neck,\"can be described as extremely helpful. I consider his position to be thoughtful and balanced. Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen will be no small trouble trying to argue in the direction of greater concessions. I don't know whether it can be done.\"\n\n\"It will be,\" said Assire var Anahid. \"Such are his instructions. The presentation of an official note will have them tangling for at least a day. After that time, he will begin to make concessions.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"That is the normal procedure,\" said Sabrina." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"According to him, they want to meet in a separate negotiation and come to an agreement. That's what we expect. We'll decide how much we'll allow. Francesca! Speak! After all, this is about your country. '\n\n\"That is why,\" said the Daisy of the Valley with a smile, \"I am silent, Sabrina.\"\n\n\"Break your pride, please,\" Margarita Laux-Antille asked seriously. We really need to know what we can allow the kings. '\n\nFrancesca Findabair smiled more beautifully.\n\n\"For the cause of peace and pro bon public,\" she said. \"I agree with the proposal f King Demavend. From now on, my dear friends, you can stop titling me, Your Majesty, Your Grace will be enough.\"\n\n\"Elven jokes,\" said Sabrina. \"I never laugh, probably because I don't understand them. What about Demavend's remaining requirements?\"\n\nFrancesca blinked.\n\n\"I agree with the repatriation of the settlers and the restitution of their property,\" she said gravely. \"I guarantee equal rights for all races...\"\n\n\"By the gods,\" Philippa Eilhart laughed, \"don't be so accommodating! Submit your own terms! '\n\n\"I will,\" the elf suddenly turned serious. \"I will not pay tribute to the Aedirn king. I want Dol Blathanna to be a freehold. Without the bond of vassalage, beyond the pledge of allegiance and not to act against the sovereign.\"\n\n\"Demavend will not accept this,\" Philippa said laconically. \"He will not give us the profits and revenues from the Valley of Flowers.\"\n\n\"On that issue,\" Francesca raised her eyebrows, \"I am willing to engage in bilateral negotiations, I'm sure we can reach a consensus. A freehold is not required to pay tribute, but payment is not necessarily prohibited or excluded. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And what about succession rights?\" asked Philippa. \"What about the right of primogeniture? Agreeing to a freehold, Demavend will require guarantees of the indivisibility of the Principality.\"\n\n\"Demavend,\" Francesca smiled again, \"may be fooled by my skin and figure, but you surprise me, Philippa. It has been along, longtime since I passed the age of being able to get pregnant. As far as birthrights and successions, Demavend has nothing to fear. I am the ultimus familiae of the royal house of Dol Blathanna. However, despite the age difference between me and Demavend, I will not be dealing with him, but his grandchildren's great-grandchildren. I assure you, ladies that in this respect there are no disputes. '\n\n\"In this, no,\" said Assire var Anahid looking the elven sorceress in the eyes. \"But what about the Squirrels? What about the elves that fought on the side of the Empire? If I'm not mistaken, Lady Enid, they are most of your subjects? '\n\nThe Daisy of the Valley stopped smiling. She looked at Ida Emean the elf from the Blue Mountains.\n\n\"Pro bono public...\" she began, but did not finish. Assire nodded her head seriously, indicating that she understood.\n\n\"What can we do?\" she said slowly. \"Everything has its price. War requires sacrifice. As it turns out, so does peace.\"\n\n\"It cannot be denied,\" the pilgrim said, looking thoughtfully at the elf, who sat motionless with his head down. \"Peace negotiation are like a flea market. A bazaar. To buy something, others must be sold. That's how the world works. The point is not to buy something that is too expensive... '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Or to sell for too cheap,\" finished the elf, not raising his head.\n\n\"Traitors! Vile bastards!\"\n\n\"Sons of bitches!\"\n\n\"An'badraigh aén cuach! '\n\n\"Nilfgaardian dogs!\"\n\n\"Silence!\" Hamilcar Danza yelled, banging his fist on the railing of the porch.\n\nThe crossbowmen in the gallery turned their weapons on the elves who crowded in the cul de sac.\n\n\"Peace!\" Danza yelled even louder. \"Enough! Shut up, officers! More dignity!\"\n\n\"You have the audacity to talk about dignity, scoundrel?\" shouted Coinneach Dá Reo. \"We spilled blood for you, curse Dh'oine! This is how you repay us? You send us to the oppressors of the North? As if we were criminals? Murderers? '\n\n\"I said enough!\" Danza thumped his fist into the railing again. \"Let's be very clear about one thing, gentlemen! The agreements signed in Cintra, which were recorded the conditions of peace, imposes an obligation on the Empire by the Nordlings to issue war criminals... '\n\n\"Criminals?\" shouted Riordain. \"Criminals? You filthy Dh'oine! '\n\n\"War criminals,\" Danza repeated carefully, ignoring the shouts and clamor of the encircled elves. \"Those officers who are accused of terrorism, killing civilians, the torture of prisoners, massacring the wounded in hospitals...\"\n\n\"You sons of bitches!\" shouted Angus Bri Cri. \"We killed because we were at war!\"\n\n\"We killed following your orders!\"\n\n\"Cuach'te aep ass, bloede dh'oine!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The decision is made!\" Danza insisted. \"Your insults and cries will not change anything. Please individually approach the guardhouse, please do not resist when being put into chains.\"\n\n\"We had to stay behind while they fled to the Yaruga,\" Riordain gritted his teeth. \"We had to stay and fight as commandos. We were fools, gullible fools, we wanted to keep our military oath. Well now we will!\"\n\nIsengrim Faoiltiarna, the Steel Wolf, the legendary leader of the Squirrels, and now an imperial colonel, tore the silver rays of the Vrihedd brigade from his sleeves and threw them on the patio. Other officers followed suit. Hamilcar Danza, who was watching from the gallery, frowned.\n\n\"This demonstration is unnecessary,\" he said. \"In your place I would not so rashly abandon the imperial insignia. It is my duty to inform you that the negotiated peace will guarantee a fair trial, mild sentences and early amnesty for imperial...\"\n\nThe cul de sac of elves burst into a grim laugh, thundering between the stonewalls.\n\n\"Furthermore, I want to warn you,\" Hamilcar Danza said curtly, \"that we will only send thirty-two officers to the Nordlings. We will not surrender any of the soldiers, who you commanded, not one.\"\n\nThe laughter ceased as if cut by a knife.\n\nThe wind blew on the fire, sending up a shower of sparks and smoke which filled the eyes. They hear a howl from the pass.\n\n\"With the trade,\" the elf said, breaking the silence, \"everything was for sale. Honor, loyalty, a noble's oath, common decency... simple goods have value only as long as there is demand for them. If there was not, then it was thrown in the dustbin. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"On the rubbish heap of history; said the pilgrim.\"You're right, sir elf. That's what I found, therein Cintra. Everything had a price. And was worth as much as what you could get in return. Each morning began like a stock market. And like areal stock market sudden ups and down were continuously occurring. It was difficult to escape the impression that someone else was pulling the strings. '\n\n\"Did I hear you right?\" Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen asked slowly, his tone and facial expression giving the impression of mistrust. \"Are my ears deceiving me?\"\n\nBerengar Leuvaarden, special envoy of the emperor, did not bother to respond. He leaned back in his chair, holding his cup of wine which he rocked rhythmically from side to side. Fitz-Oesterlen was offended; he then put on a mask of contempt.\n\n\"Either you're lying, you son of a bitch, or you want to dupe me. Either way, I've uncovered you. So I'm to understand, \"he sniffed,\"that after far-reaching concessions on borders, war captives, the recovery of loot, on the question of the Vrihedd brigade officers and Scoia'tael commandos, the emperor commands me to reach an agreement and accept the impossible demands of the Nordlings regarding the repatriation of settlers?\"\n\n\"You understand perfectly, Ambassador,\" said Leuvaarden, characteristically dragging out his syllables. \"Indeed, I am full of admiration for your comprehension.\"\n\n\"The Great Sun, Lord Leuvaarden, do you in the capital ever meditate on the consequences of your decisions? The Nordlings are already whispering that our empire is a colossus with feet of clay! Even now they cry out that they won, beat us and drove us out! Does the Emperor realize that to give further concession will mean accepting their arrogant and unreasonable ultimatum? Does the Emperor understand that they will treat this as a sign of weakness which could have dire consequences in the future? Does the Emperor understand, finally, the fate of several thousand of our settlers in Brugge and Lyria?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Berengar Leuvaarden stopped rocking his cup and stared at Shilard, his eyes as black as coal.\n\n\"I have given My Lord Baron an imperial order,\" he said. \"When the Baron returns to Nilfgaard he can personally ask the Emperor why he issued such unreasonable orders. He may also want to reprimand the Emperor. Scold him. Why not? But alone, without my mediation.\"\n\nOh, thought Shilard. I know. Sitting here before me is anew Stefan Skellen. And I'll have to deal with him just like Skellen. But it is clear he did not come here for no reason. The order could have been brought by a regular messenger.\n\n\"Well,\" he said, outwardly calm and confident. 'Woe to the vanquished. The imperial order is clear and specific, I will therefore execute it. I will do everything to make it look like\n\nthe outcome of negotiations and not complete defeatism. I understand these things; I've been a diploma for thirty years. And my family for four generations. We area significant, influential and rich... family...\"\n\n\"I know, I know, of course,\" Leuvaarden interrupted with a smile. \"That's why I'm here.\"\n\nShilard bowed slightly and waited patiently.\n\n\"My dear Baron,\" began the envoy, rocking his cup again, \"your difficulties in understanding the imperial order arose because you surmised that the victory in the war is inextricably bound up with an absurd waste of material resources and human lives and is achieved by someone waving a flag and shouting, \"Everything I see is mine! I won!\" A similar opinion is, unfortunately, fairly widespread. But for me and the people who have put their trust in me, we don't think so. Victory is supposed to look like this– the defeated have to buy goods from the winners, and do it gladly, because the goods of the winners and better and cheaper. The winners currency is stronger than the currency of the defeated and the vanquished and they begin to have more confidence in their own. Do you understand me, Baron Fitz-Oesterlen? Are you slowly beginning to distinguish the winners from the losers? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ambassador Fitz-Oesterlen nodded to confirm.\n\n\"But in order to strengthen and legitimize the victory,\" Leuvaarden said dragging out his syllables, \"a peace must be signed. A soon as possible and at any cost. Not a ceasefire or truce, but areal lasting peace. A strong contract that will build and exclude implementation of economic blockades, retaliatory tariffs and trade protectionism.\"\n\nShilard nodded earnestly.\n\n\"We destroyed their industry and agriculture, according to a predetermined plan,\" Leuvaarden continued calmly. \"We did this in order to deprive them of their own goods so they have to buy ours. But our merchants and products will not cross through closed or hostile borders. What will happen then? I will tell you what will happen, dear Baron. We will create the crisis of overproduction, because our manufactures are working full speed, hoping to export. Large losses will also be felt by the maritime trade, the result of cooperation with Novigrad and Kovir. Your influential family, dear Baron, have significant participation in such societies. And family, as you are no doubt aware, dear Baron, are the basic building blocks of such societies. Did you know?\"\n\n\"I know,\" Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen lowered his voice, even though he knew that the chamber was reliably secure against eavesdropping. \"I understand. However, I would have assurance that I'm following the orders of the Emperor... And not some... corporation. '\n\n\"Emperor's pass, \"said Leuvaarden.\"Corporations remain. And survive. I understand your concern, Baron. You can be sure you are fulfilling the order of the Emperor, which was issued in the interest and for the good of the Empire. I do not deny, however, that our Emperor was issued some advice from certain corporations. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The envoy unbuttoned his collar and pulled out a gold medallion, on which was displayed a burning star inside a triangle.\n\n\"An impressive decoration,\" Baron Fitz-Oesterlen showed his understanding. \"Without a doubt, very expensive... and elitist... Is it possible to buy it somewhere?\"\n\n\"No,\" replied Berengar Leuvaarden. \"It is necessary to earn it.\"\n\n\"If the gentlemen and the lady will allow,\" Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen's voice took on a familiar tone which testified to what he was about to say, was considered important.\"If the gentlemen and lady will allow, I will read the content of the message from His Majesty Emhyr var Emreis, but the Great Sun, Emperor of Nilfgaard... '\n\n\"No, not again,\" Demavend gritted his teeth. Dijkstra quietly moaned. None of this escaped Shilard's attention.\n\n\"The imperial message is long,\" he admitted. \"I will summarize it, and limit myself to the most important points. The Imperial Majesty expresses his satisfaction over the course of the deliberations so far and welcomes the achieved compromises and reconciliations. His Imperial Majesty wishes to make further progress in the negotiations and to conclude them with mutual benefit...\"\n\n\"Let's get to the point, \"said Foltest,\"And quickly! Let's conclude the mutual benefits and return home.\"\n\n\"That's the spirit, \"Henselt said, who was farther from home than anyone.\"Let us get this over with, or we'll be here until winter.\"\n\n\"We have one more compromise,\" said Meve. \"An issue that we have touched on only a few times in passing. Perhaps out of fear that it would cause us to quarrel. It is time to overcome that fear. The problem will not disappear by not talking about it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Right,\" said Foltest." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We must resolve the status of Cintra, the inheritance to the throne and Calanthe's successor. The issue is complicated, but I have no doubt we can handle it ourselves, right, Your Excellency? '\n\n\"Oh,\" Fitz-Oesterlen smiled diplomatically and enigmatic. \"I'm sure the question of succession to the throne of Cintra will go smoothly. The solution is simpler than you probably expected. '\n\n\"I submit for discussion,\" Philippa Eilhart announced in atone that did not invite discussion, \"the following proposal– the territory of Cintra's trusteeship. I entrust this mandate to Foltest of Temeria. '\n\n\"Foltest's holdings are growing too fast, \"Sabrina Glevissig said with a scowl.\"Brugge, Sodden, Angren... '\n\n\"We need,\" said Philippa, \"a strong state at the mouth of the Yaruga. And in the Marnadal Stairs.\"\n\n\"It cannot be denied,\" Síle de Tansarville nodded, \"we need it. But they need Emhyr var Emreis. And I recall that our goal is to compromise, not conflict.\"\n\n\"A few days ago Shilard suggested,\" recalled Francesca Findabair, \"that Cintra will be divided with lines into two demarcation zones, a southern zone and a northern zone...\"\n\n\"A foolish idea,\" said Margarita Laux-Antille. \"Such a division does not have any meaning and only becomes the seed for future conflict.\"\n\n\"I believe,\" said Síle, \"that Cintra should be turned into a condominium state. Administration of the territory should be engaged by both commissioners from the northern kingdoms and the Empire of Nilfgaard. The citadel of Cintra would acquire the status of a free port... You wish to say something Lady Assire? I'm used to representing my thoughts coherently and in full form, but for now... I'm listening.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All the sorceresses turned their sights to Assire var Anahid, the Nilfgaardian witch did not look the least bit embarrassed.\n\n\"I recommend,\" she said in her pleasant, calm voice, \"that we focus on other issues. And leave Cintra alone. I have been told about something, which I have not had time to tell you ladies. The case of Cintra, dear colleagues, is already resolved and settled.\"\n\n\"What?\" Philippa's eyes narrowed.\"What's that supposed to mean?\"\n\nTriss Merigold sighed audibly. She already knew. She had already guessed what it meant.\n\nVattier de Rideaux was sad and depressed. His beautiful and passionate lover, golden-haired Cantarella was leaving him, suddenly and unexpectedly, without giving a reason or explanation. For Vattier, this was a low and terrible blow, he had left crestfallen, nervous, distracted and dazed. He had to pay attention, be careful and on guard and not to say something stupid while talking to the Emperor. Times of great change did not favor the nervous and incompetent.\n\n\"The merchants guild,\" Emhyr car Emreis said frowning, \"we have already paid for their invaluable help. We have granted them sufficient privileges, more than what they got from the previous three emperors together. In addition, we are indebted to Berengar Leuvaarden for his help in uncovering the conspiracy. He has received a high and lucrative position. But if he is incompetent, despite his merits, he will be shot from a catapult. Make sure that he knows this.\"\n\n\"I will, Your Majesty. And what of Dijkstra? And his mysterious informant?\"\n\n\"Dijkstra would sooner die than reveal who his informant is. However, give Dijkstra a fee for the information, which literally fell from the sky... But what? Dijkstra would not take anything from me.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If You Majesty will allow...\"\n\n\"Speak...\"\n\n\"Dijkstra would be happy to accept other information. Something that he doesn't know, but would like to know. We could reward him with just such information. '\n\n\"Excellent, Vattier.\"\n\nVattier de Rideaux sighed with relief. Because he had discreetly turned his head away, he was the first to notice the approaching ladies, the Countess Liddertal and the young blonde that was entrusted to her care.\n\n\"They're coming, \"he pointed outwith a movement of his eyes.\"Your Majesty, let me remind you... The reason of state... In the interest of the Empire... '\n\n\"Enough,\" Emhyr var Emreis interrupted reluctantly. \"I said, I will consider. Think about the case and make a decision. And then I will inform you what the decision is.\"\n\n\"Very well, Your Majesty.\"\n\n\"Anything else?\" The White Flame of Nilfgaard said impatiently, tapping his glove on his hip. \"What are you waiting for, Vattier?\"\n\n\"The issue of Stefan Skellen...\"\n\n\"No mercy. Death to traitors. But after a fair trial.\"\n\n\"I understand, Your Majesty.\"\n\nEmhyr deigned not to look at him as he said goodbye with a bow and withdrew. Stella Congreve was waiting. And so was the blonde girl.\n\nHere comes the interest of the Empire, he thought. The false princess, the false Queen of Cintra. The sovereign to the area around the mouth of the Yaruga River, which is so important to the Empire. Here she comes, looking down, terrified, in a white silk dress with green sleeves and a necklace in shallow neckline. At Darn Rowan I complimented her dress and jewellery selection. Stella knows my tastes. But what am I supposed to do with this doll? Put heron a dresser or mantle?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Honored ladies,\" he bowed first. Outside of the throne room of Nilfgaard, the rules of civility and courtesy to women were obliged, even by the Emperor. They answered him with curtsies and bows of their heads.\n\nThey were standing in front of a polite, but still Emperor.\n\nEmhyr had had enough protocol.\n\n\"Stay here please, Stella,\" he said dryly. \"And you, girl, come with me fora walk. Take my arm. Cheer up. It's just a walk. '\n\nThey walked side by side down and alley. Imperial Guardsmen, members of the elite'Impera\" brigade stayed away, but always at the ready. They were trained to protect the Emperor, and knew when not to interfere.\n\nThey passed a pond, empty and sad. Avery old carp brought by Emperor Torres, had died two days earlier. We will have to release a young, strong, carp, Emhyr decided. We'll make a medal with his portrait and the date. Vaesse deiraedh aep eigean. Something end, something begins. This is anew ear, new times. Let there also be anew carp.\n\nLost in thought, he almost forgot about the girl he was holding on his arm. He remembered her presence due to her warmth, the smell of lilies and the interest of the empire. In that order.\n\nThey stopped by the pond, in the middle rose an artificial island, with a rock garden, a fountain and a marble sculpture.\n\n\"Do you know what this figure represents?\"\n\n\"Yes, Your Majesty,\" she did not immediately answer. \"It represents a pelican, whose beak tears at its own breast to feed its children with blood. It is an allegory of a noble sacrifice. And also...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm listening carefully. '\n\n\"Also of great love.\"\n\n\"Do you think,\" he held her by the shoulders and turned her to face him, \"that a torn chest hurts less?\"\n\n\"I don't know... \"she stammered.\"Imperial Majesty... I... '\n\nHe took her hand. He felt her twitch, the tremor ran through her hand, arm and shoulder.\n\n\"My father,\" he said, \"was a great ruler, but never paid attention to myths and legends, he never had the time for such things. He always confused them. Whenever he would bring me here, to the park, he said that the sculpture of the pelican was rising from the ashes. At least smile, girl, when the Emperor tells you stories from his childhood. That's better, thank you. I would be sad to think that you are not enjoying your walk with me. Look into my eyes. '\n\n\"I'm happy... to be here... Your Majesty. It is a huge honor for me... Also a large joy. I am very happy... '\n\n\"Really? This is not just courtly flattery? Etiquette from Stella Congreve's classed? Admit it, girl. '\n\nShe was silent, her eyes downcast.\n\n\"Your Emperor asked you a question,\" said Emhyr var Emreis. \"And when the Emperor asked, no one dares be silent. Naturally, no one dares lie.\"\n\n\"Really,\" she said in a melodious voice. \"I'm really happy, Imperial Majesty. '\n\n\"I believe you,\" Emhyr said after a moment's thought.\"I think. Although, I am surprised. '\n\n\"I also...\" she whispered. \"I am also surprised.\"\n\n\"What? Speak up, please.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I wish we could..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "walk more often. And talk. But I understand... I understand that this is impossible.\"\n\n\"You understand well,\" he bit his lip. \"Emperors rule the world, but two things they don't have control over. Their heart and their time. Both belong to the empire. '\n\n\"I know that,\" she said, \"all too well.\"\n\n\"I will not be here long,\" he said after a moment of heavy silence. \"I have to go to Cintra, to grace them with my presence at the peace celebration. You will have to go back to Darn Rowan... Cheer up, girl. For the second time, lift your head in my presence. What is that I see in your eyes? Tears? This is a serious breach of etiquette, I will have show Countess Liddertal my highest displeasure. Lift your head, I said...\"\n\n\"Please... forgive Lady Stella... Imperial Majesty, this is my fault. Only mine. Lady Stella has taught me... and prepared me well.\"\n\nI've noticed, and I appreciate it. Fear not, Stella does not run the risk of falling from grace. She never runs the risk. I was just joking with you. Poorly.\"\n\n\"I noticed,\" replied the girl, terrified by her own boldness. But Emhyr just laughed. Somewhat forced.\n\n\"Well, I like you,\" he said. \"Trust me. You are brave. Much like...\"\n\nHe stopped.\n\nMuch like my daughter, he finished in his head. A feeling of guilt struck him like a dog bite.\n\nThe girl held his gaze. It's not just the work of Stella, thought Emhyr. This really is her nature. And despite appearances, she is a diamond that doesn't scratch. No I will not authorize Vattier to kill this girl. Cintra, this business interests the Empire, but this issue seems to have only one sensible and honorable solution." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Give me your hand.\"\n\nIt was an order delivered in astern voice and tone. But even though, he could not help feeling that she would have done it willingly. Without coercion.\n\nHer hand was small and cold. But not shaking anymore.\n\n\"What is your name? Please do not tell me it is Cirilla Fiona.\"\n\n\"Cirilla Fiona.\"\n\n\"I feel like punishing you, girl. Severely.\"\n\n\"I know, Your Majesty. I deserve it. But I... I must be Cirilla Fiona.\"\n\n\"I think that you\" he said, still holding her hand, \"regret not being her.\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, \"she whispered.\"I regret that I am not her. '\n\n\"Really?\"\n\n\"If I was... truly Cirilla, perhaps, Your Majesty would have been kinder tome. But I am just a fake. An imitation. A doppelganger who is not worthy of anything. Nothing...\"\n\nHe whirled around and grabbed her arm. Then he released her and stepped back.\n\n\"Would you like a crown? A position?\" he spoke quietly, but quickly, pretending not to see her violently shake her head. \"Tribute? Compliments? Luxury?\"\n\nHe paused. He did not seethe that the girl shook her head, denying his unjust accusations, perhaps even more unjust by the unspoken ones.\n\nHe breathed loudly and deeply.\n\n\"Do you know, little moth, that what you see in front of you is the flame?\"\n\n\"I know, Your Majesty.\"\n\nThey were silent fora longtime. The smell of spring suddenly whirled in their heads. Intoxicating.\n\n\"Being the Empress,\" Emhyr finally said dully, \"is not easy, contrary to appearances. I do not know if I'll be able to love you. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She nodded to indicate that she knew this. He saw a tear on her cheek. Just like then, in the Castle Stygga, he felt like a sliver of glass was stuck in his heart.\n\nHe hugged her, pressing her hard against his chest, stroking her hair which smelled like lilies.\n\n\"My poor child,\" he said in an unnatural voice. \"My poor reason of state.\"\n\nBells rang throughout Cintra. Dignified, deep and solemn. But strangely mournful.\n\nAn unusual beauty, thought hierarch Hemmelfart, looking like everyone else, at the hanging portrait, that would measure, like the rest, half a fathom by a fathom, if not more. An unusual beauty. A half-breed I bet, she has in her veins the cursed blood of elves.\n\nPretty, appreciated Foltest, prettier than those thumbnails shown tome by my secret service. But portraits are usually flattering.\n\nQuite unlike Calanthe, thought Meve. Quite unlike Roegner. Quite unlike Pavetta... Hmmm... There were rumors... No, it's not possible. She must be the royal blood, a legitimate ruler of Cintra. She must. It is required by reasons of state. And history.\n\nShe was not like I've seen in my dreams, thought Esterad Thyssen, King of Kovir. I'm sure she is not the same. But I will not tell anyone. I'll keep this to myself and my Zuleyka, together we can decide how we can use this knowledge the dreams have given us.\n\nThat was close, she was to be my wife, this Ciri, thought Kistrin of Verden. I would have been the prince of Cintra and heir to the throne, according to custom... I probably would have died with Calanthe. Oh well, it is good that she ran away from me." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Not fora moment do I believe the fables of love at first sight, thought Shilard Fitz-Oesterlen. Not fora moment. And yet now Emhyr has married the little barbarian. He rejected the possibility of reconciling with imperial nobility and marring their daughters and married Cirilla of Cintra. Why? To dominate a small country, that half, if not more, Nilfgaard would have gained during negotiations? In order to consolidate his power at the mouth of the Yaruga, which is essentially in the hands of the Nilfgaard-Novigrad-Kovir maritime trading companies? I do not understand this political necessity, so I suspect they did not tell me everything.\n\nSorceresses, Sigismund Dijkstra thought. This is the work of sorceresses. But why would it not be? Undoubtedly, it was written that Ciri would be Emhyr's wife, Queen of Cintra and Empress of Nilfgaard. No doubt it washer destiny.\n\nKeep it this way, Triss Merigold thought happily. It is a good solution. Ciri will be safe. And eventually they'll forget her. They let her live.\n\nThe portrait was finally put in place, the servants who were hanging it withdrew, taking the ladder with them.\n\nAt the end of along line of dark and dusty Cintran nobles, beyond the portrait of Cerbin, Coram and Corbett, past, Dagorad and Roegner, beyond proud Calanthe and melancholy Pavetta, hung the last portrait. It showed the reigning Empress, the heiress of the royal blood and the crown. A slim girl with blond hair and sad eyes in a white dress with green sleeves– Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Queen of Cintra and Empress of Nilfgaard." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Destiny, thought Philippa Eilhart, watching Dijkstra's eyes.\n\nPoor child, thought Dijkstra, looking at the portrait. She probably thinks this is the end of her afflictions and misfortunes. Poor child.\n\nIn Cintra the bells tolled, frightening the gulls.\n\n\"Soon after the conclusion of the negotiations and the signing of the peace,\" the pilgrim continued his story, \"a celebration was held in Novigrad, which culminated in a large military parade. As befitting the first day of anew historical epoch, the weather was beautiful.\"\n\n\"We are to understand,\" the elf ask sarcastically, \"that you were at it? That you attended the parade?\"\n\n\"I was a little late,\" the pilgrim was obviously not someone who was bothered by a little sarcasm. \"Like I said, it was a beautiful day. It promised to be such from dawn.\"\n\nVascoigne, commander of the fort of Drakenborg and until recently deputy commander for political affairs, eagerly slapped his whip on his boots.\n\n\"Move, move,\" he urged his executioners. \"They're expecting more. In Novigrad you can celebrate, but here we have to work. '\n\nThe executioners place the nooses around the prisoners necks and withdrew. Vascoigne swung his whip again.\n\n\"If anyone wants to say something,\" he said dryly, \"this is your last chance.\"\n\n\"Long live freedom,\" said Cairbre aep Diared.\n\n\"The court was biased against me,\" said Orestes Kopps a marauder, pillager and murderer.\n\n\"Kiss my ass,\" said Robert Pilch a deserter.\n\n\"Tell Lord Dijkstra, that I'm sorry, ' said Lennep, a former agent convicted of bribery and fraud." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I did not, I did not want too...\" cried Istvan Igalffy, swaying on a stump, former commandant of the fort, removed from the post and brought before a tribunal for excessive acts which are not permitted against the prisoners.\n\nThe sun, like molten gold, exploded over the stockade of the fort. The posts of the gallows threw elongated shadows. In Drakenborg, began anew day, beautiful and sunny.\n\nThe first day of anew era.\n\nVascoigne's whip lashed his boot. He raised and lowered his hand.\n\nThe stumps were kicked out from under the feet of the condemned.\n\nThroughout Novigrad bells rang. The sound was carried over the mansard roofs of merchant houses, until it came to the narrowest and most remote streets. Whistling rockets and exploding firecrackers. The crowd cheered, yelled, throwing hats in the air, waving handkerchiefs, scarves and flags.\n\n\"Long like the Free Company!\"\n\n\"Long live!\"\n\n\"Glory to the Condottieri!\"\n\nLorenzo Molla saluted the crowd and blew a kiss to the beautiful girls.\n\n\"If we are paid with the same enthusiasm with which we are cheered,\" he shouted to be heard above the uproar, \"then we'll be rich! '\n\n\"It's too bad, \"Julia Abatemarco's throat constricted, \"that Frontino couldn't see this... '\n\nThe marched down the main street, Julia Abatemarco, Adam'Adieu\" Pangratt and Lorenzo Molla, leading a festively dressed Company, who were formed in rows of four, so none of the horses, sleek and shiny, moved forward an inch in front of the others. The horses of the condottieri were like their riders-calm and haughty, not frightened by the cheers and the shouting of the crowd and the only reaction to the coins and flowers flying towards them was to shake their heads slightly, almost imperceptibly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Long like the Condottieri!\"\n\n\"Long live Adam'adieu\" Pangratt! Long live Pretty Kitty!\"\n\nJulia surreptitiously wiped away a tear, and caught a carnation that had been thrown from the crowd.\n\n\"I never would have dreamed...\" she said. \"We won... Poor Frontino...\"\n\nYou're moved, Julia,\" Lorenzo Molla smiled. \"I never knew you were such a romantic soul.\"\n\n\"Well, yes. Attention, company! Face... left!\"\n\nThey stood at attention in their saddles, turning the horses heads to face the grandstand and the seats and thrones arranged there.\n\nI can see Foltest, Julia thought. The one with the beard must be Henselt of Kaedwen, and the handsome man is Demavend of Aedirn... That Matron must be Queen Hedwig... And the boy by her side, Crown Prince Radovid, son of the king that was killed... Poor kid...\n\n\"Long live the condottieri! long like Julia Abatemarco! Long live Adam Pangratt! Long live Lorenzo Molla!\"\n\n\"Long live Constable Natalis!\"\n\n\"Long live our monarchs! Long live Foltest, Demavend and Henselt!\"\n\n\"Long live Lord Dijkstra!\"\n\n\"Long live His Holiness!\" A few voices came from the crowd, obviously bribes. Novigrad's hierarch Cyrus Engelkind Hemmelfart rose and blessed the people and the army with his outstretched hands, while irreverently covering Queen Hedwig and young Radovid with the skirts of his robe.\n\nNobody shouts, \"Long live Radovid\" , thought the prince covered by the hierarch's fat ass. No one even looks at me. No one is screaming in honor of my mother. No one remembers my poor father. Even today, at a day of triumph, which he so richly deserved. After all, that's why he was murdered." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He felt a gaze on his neck." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Delicate like someone he did not know-or knew, but only in his dreams. Something that was soft like a brush of a woman's warm lips. He turned his head. He discovered the dark unfathomable eyes of Philippa Eilhart fixed on him.\n\nWait, thought the prince, looking away. Just wait.\n\nNo one could predictor guess then that this boy of thirteen years, which at that time was a person without any relevance in a country ruled by the Regency Council and by Dijkstra, would become king. A king who, after he paid all the insults that had been given to his mother and him, would go down in history with the name Radovid the Stern.\n\nThe crowd cheered. The ground beneath the hooves of the horses of the condottieri were carpeted with flowers.\n\n\"Julia?\"\n\n\"Yes, Adieu?\"\n\n\"Marry me. Become my wife.\"\n\nPretty Kitty did not answer fora longtime, she was surprisingly speechless. The crowd cheered. The Novigrad hierarch, sweating and gasping for breath like a big catfish, blessed from the stands the burghers and soldiers, the city and the world.\n\n\"You're married, Adam Pangratt. '\n\n\"we have long lived separately. I'm getting a divorce. '\n\nJulia Abatemarco did not answer. She turned her head.\n\nSurprised.\n\nConfused.\n\nAnd very happy. Without really knowing why.\n\nThe crowd cheered and threw flowers. The rockets and fireworks burst in artificial light above the rooftops and between the noise and the smoke the bells of Novigrad sounded like a whimper.\n\nShe's a woman, thought Nenneke. She went to war a child. And has comeback a woman. Confident. Realizing who she is. Quiet. Relax. A woman." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She won the war. By not letting the war destroy her.\n\n\"Deborah,\" Eurneid continued listing quietly, \"died of typhus in a camp in Mayena. Prune drowned in the Yaruga when a boatload of wounded capsized. Myrrha was killed by elves, Squirrels, during an attack on the hospital in Armeria... Katye...\"\n\n\"Tell me, child,\" Nenneke gently urged.\n\n\"Katye,\" Eurneid cleared her throat, \"met a wounded Nilfgaardian in the hospital. After the conclusion of the peace, when the prisoners were exchanged, she went with him to Nilfgaard.\"\n\n\"I've always said, \"sighed the priestess,\"that love knows no boundaries. And what about Iola the Second? '\n\n\"Alive,\" Eurneid hurried to explain. \"She is in Maribor.\"\n\n\"Why did she not comeback?\"\n\nThe adept bowed her head.\n\n\"She will not return to the temple, Mother,\" she said quietly. \"She is at a hospital with Mister Milo Vanderbeck, the surgeon, a halfling. She said that she wants to care for the sick. This is what she wants to dedicate her life to. Forgive her, Mother.\"\n\n\"Forgive?\" cried the priestess. \"I'm proud of her! '\n\n\"You're late, \"Philippa Eilhart said through clenched teeth.\"You're late to a feast that has the presence of kings. Bloody hell, Sigismund, your distain for protocol is well known, and you do not need to flaunt it, on a day like this...\"\n\n\"I have my reasons,\" Dijkstra responded with a look from Queen Hedwig and the raising of his eyebrows from the hierarch of Novigrad. He also caught the scowl on the face of priest Willemer and the sneer on the face of King Foltest. \"Can I have a word with you Phil?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Alone, I imagine...\"\n\n\"That would be best,\" Dijkstra smiled. \"But, if you prefer, I have no objection to more eyes watching. for example, the beautiful eyes of the ladies of Montecalvo.\"\n\n\"Lower your voice,\" the sorceress mutter, without erasing the smile from her lips. '\n\n\"When will you grant mean interview?\"\n\n\"I'll think. I'll let you know. Now leave me alone, this is a ceremony. A great feast. I'll remind you, if you hadn't noticed.\"\n\n\"A great feast?\"\n\n\"We are on the threshold of anew era, Dijkstra.\"\n\nThe spy shrugged.\n\nThe crowd was cheering. Fireworks went off. The bells of Novigrad rang, signaling the victory and as a sign of great glory.\n\nBut the ringing was strangely mournful.\n\n\"Hold the reins, Jarre,\" Lucienne said. \"I'm getting something to eat. Wrap the reins around your hand. I know you only have one. '\n\nJarre felt a blush of shame and humiliation on his face. He was still not used to the constant feeling that people had nothing better to do but to stare at his stump and his sleeve which was sewn shut. That the world noticed him at all hours, pitying his injury and\n\nhypocritically lamenting his fortune, while in the depth of their souls despising him as something that dared to tamper with his ugliness, the beautiful reigning order.\n\nLucienne, he had no choice but to admit, was quite different, in that sense, than the rest of the people. She neither pretended not to see or fell into mannerisms that degraded or humiliated him. Jarre several times found himself thinking that this blonde girl treated him naturally and normally. But that idea constant fought back. He Refused to accept it, because he could not bring himself to behave normally or naturally." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The wagon carrying the war amputees squeaked and rattled." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After a short rainy season had come the sweltering heat. The potholes formed by the passage of continuous military convoys had dried and hardened, becoming ridges, edges and protrusions of fantastic shapes, and they rolled over these pulled by four horses. The wagon swung and swayed like a ship in a storm. The mutilated, most lame and legless soldiers cursed and swore hoarsely. Lucienne held onto Jarre, hugging him, sharing her magical warmth, his prodigious softness and exciting mix of smells– horse, leather, hay, oats and girlish sweat.\n\nThe wagon jumped at the next pothole. Jarre pulled on therein wrapped around his wrist. Lucienne, alternately eating bread and sausage clung to his side.\n\n\"Well, well...\" she noticed his brass medallion and craftily took advantage that Jarre's one hand was occupied with the reins.\"What have we here? A love charm? So you were tricked as well? The guy, who invented this trinket, had to be a pretty darn good trafficker. The demand for these were great during the war, especially after too much vodka. What is the name of the girl you wear inside? Let me see... '\n\n\"Lucienne,\" Jarre blushed like a tomato, \"do not open it, please... I'm sorry, but that is my personal thing. I do not want to offend you, but... '\n\nThe wagon jumped and Lucienne snuggled into Jarre silently.\n\n\"Ci... ril... la,\" he said with effort, he did not expected a peasant girl to have far-reaching knowledge.\n\n\"You will not forget about her,\" she shut the locket and let it go, then looked at the boy. \"This Cirilla, that is. If you truly loved her. Amulets and spells are useless. If she loves you, she will be faithful and waiting.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"For this?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jarre raised his stump.\n\nThe girl narrowed her eyes, blue as forget-me-nots.\n\n\"If she really loves you, she'll be waiting, \"she said firmly.\"And nothing else matters. I know this. '\n\n\"You have a lot of experience?\"\n\n\"It's none of your business, \"Lucienne blushed this time.\"I had, what I had and with whom. But do not think I belong with those who nod their head and lie down on their back and spread their legs. But I know what I know. If a girl loves a man, so loves all of him and not little pieces. Therefore, she loves him even when apiece is missing. '\n\nThe wagon jumped.\n\n\"You are oversimplifying it,\" Jarre said through clenched teeth. \"Oversimplifying and idealizing, Lucienne. You're forgetting the little detail, that is when a man is whole, he is supposed to be able to support his wife and family. As a cripple I cannot... '\n\n\"Bah, do not cry into my apron,\" she said without a fuss. \"The Black ones took your hand, not your head. What are you looking at? I'm from the country, but I have eyes and ears. I'm bright enough to know by the way you talk that you area scholar. In addition...\"\n\nShe cleared her throat. Jarre also cleared his throat, and breathed her scent. The wagon jumped.\n\n\"Besides,\" finished the girl, \"I heard what you were saying to others. That your are learned. That you were ascribe in a temple. So the hand... Bah...\"\n\nThe wagon had been driving fora while without hitting any potholes, but Jarre and Lucienne seemed unaware– they remained firmly pressed together." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well,\" she said after along pause, \"I'm lucky with scholars. There was one... I used to... He walked behind me... He knew a lot, and had gone through an academy. It even showed in his name. '\n\n\"What was his name?\"\n\n\"Semester.\"\n\n\"Hey, girl,\" called Sergeant Derkacz from behind them, a creepy looking man who was crippled during the battle of Mayena. \"Crack the whip over those geldings heads, this cart is crawling along like snot down a wall!\"\n\n\"Yeah, pickup the pace,\" added a second cripple, scratching under his pants leg at a stump covered with shiny pink skin. \"We've had enough of these wastelands. I miss the taverns. You don't know what I'd do fora beer! Can we not go faster? '\n\n\"I can,\" Lucienne turned around on the wagon box. \"But if I break a hole in the wheel or the axle, you won't be drinking beer, only rainwater. You'll be waiting a week before we can bring anymore wagons for you.\"\n\n\"Too bad,\" grinned Derkacz, \"because the other night I had a dream that we were married. You could carry me on your back...\"\n\n\"You smelly goat,\" cried Lucienne. \"The plague take you...\"\n\nShe stopped, seeing all the faces of the disabled men travelling in the wagon suddenly turn deathly pale.\n\n\"The gods!\" cried one of them. \"And we were so close to home...\"\n\n\"We are lost,\" Derkacz said quietly and without any fuss. He was simply stating a fact.\n\nAnd they said, Jarre thought to himself, that there were no longer any Squirrels. That we had killed them all. That the issue with the elves had been resolved." }, { "from": "human", "value": "There were six horses." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But on closer inspection there were eight riders. Two of the mounts carried two people. All the horses had a stilted, arrhythmic gait, their heads bowed low. They looked exhausted.\n\nLucienne sighed deeply.\n\nThe elves approached. They looked even worse than their horses. Nothing remained of their pride, their disdainful superiority or charismatic differences. Their clothing, usually decorative even in the guerrilla squads, was dirty and ragged. Their hair, their pride and glory, was matted, sticky with dirt and dried blood. Their big eyes, usually devoid of any expression, were now abysses of panic and despair.\n\nNothing remained of their differences. Death, fear, hunger and adversity had made them ordinary. Very ordinary.\n\nThey did not inspire fear.\n\nJarre, fora moment thought that they would linger, but they simply cross paths and disappear into the woods, without bothering to look at the wagon and its passengers. They only left behind them a smell, an unpleasant smell that Jarre remembered from the field hospitals– the smell of misery, urine, and festering wounds.\n\nThey passed by without bothering to look at them.\n\nBut not all.\n\nAn elf with long dark hair, caked with dirt and dried blood, stopped her horse near the wagon. She satin her saddle hunched over, her arm was in a bloody bandage which flies climbed on.\n\n\"Toruviel,\" said one of her comrades, \"En'ca digne, luned. '\n\nLucienne quickly realized what was happening. She knew what she was seeing in the elf, having been raised in a village, she had known the livid specter of hunger. Therefore, she reacted instinctive and unequivocal. She offered the elf some bread." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"En'ca digne, Toruviel, ' repeated the elf. He was the only one of all the company wearing an emblem on his torn jacket sleeve of the silver lightning of the Vrihedd brigade.\n\nThe cripples in the wagon had remained still, not moving a muscle until that instant, suddenly shivering as if a spell had released them. In their hands, held out to the elves, as if by magic, appeared food, bread, cheese, slices of bacon and sausages.\n\nAnd the elves, for the first time in a thousand years, spread their hands towards humans.\n\nLucienne and Jarre were the first people who saw the elves cry. Great choking sobs, not even trying to wipe the tears from their dirty faces. Refuting the claims that elves did not have tear ducts.\n\n\"En'ca... Digne, ' repeated the elf with the lightning bolt on his sleeve. He then reached out and took the bread from Derkacz.\n\n\"Thank you,\" he croaked, finding it difficult to adjust his lips to the strange language. \"Thank you, man.\"\n\nAfter awhile, seeing that everyone was finished, Lucienne clicked at the horses and jerked the reins. The wagon began to creak and rattle. They were silent.\n\nIt was approaching evening when they met armed horsemen. They were led by a woman with white, short-cropped hair, her face disfigured by scars. One bisected her face from the corner of her mouth in an arc to her eye. The woman was missing half of her right ear and her left arm below the elbow ended in a leather cuff with a brass hook, which the reins were wrapped around.\n\nThe woman, with a hostile look that betrayed her fierce desire for revenge, asked about the elves. About the Scoia'tael. The terrorists. The fugitives, survivors from a commando unit destroyed two days ago." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jarre, Lucienne and the cripples in the wagon avoided eye contact with the white-haired, one-handed rider and indistinctly mumbled that they had not seen any elves or met anybody on the road.\n\nYou lie, thought the woman who was once Black Rayla. I know you are lying. You lie out of pity. But even so that will not help them, because I, White Rayla, do not know pity.\n\n\"Hooray, dwarves! Long live Els Barclay!\"\n\nIn Novigrad the pavement rumbled beneath the shod boots of the veterans of the Volunteer Army. The dwarves marched in a formation of five, waving their flags which depicted crossed hammers.\n\n\"Long live Mahakam! Long live the dwarves!\"\n\n\"Glory and honor to them!\"\n\nSuddenly, someone in the crowd laughed. And soon everybody was laughing.\n\n\"This is a scandal...\" gasped Hemmelfart. \"An affront... It is unforgivable...\"\n\n\"Vile people,\" hissed the priest Willemer.\n\n\"Pretend you do not see them,\" Foltest told them calmly.\n\n\"We should not have skimped when dividing the spoils,\" said Meve sourly. \"And refused to supplement the rations.\"\n\nThe dwarven officers retained their seriousness and form, and stood before the grandstand and saluted. The non-commissioned officers and soldiers of the Volunteer Army, however, expressed their discontent against the austerity measures imposed by the kings and hierarch. Some of them, once past the grandstand, showed the kings a bent elbow, other made one of their favorite gestures– a clenched fist with an upright middle finger. Scholars describe the gesture as digitus infamis. Common people called it something worse." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The blush on the faces of the kings and the hierarch showed that they were familiar with both names.\n\n\"We should not have insulted their greed,\" Meve insisted. \"There people are very fastidious.\"\n\nThe howling around Elskerdeg became a gruesome chant. None of the men sitting by the fire paid any attention.\n\nThe first to speak after the long silence was Boreas Mun.\n\n\"The world has changed. Justice has been done.\"\n\n\"You overdid it a bit with the justice, my friend,\" the pilgrim smiled. \"However, I agree that the world has changed. Adjusting to the fundamental laws of physics.\"\n\n\"I wonder,\" said the elf, \"if we are thinking of the same laws.\"\n\n\"Every action,\" said the pilgrim, \"has a reaction.\"\n\nThe elf chuckled, but it sounded friendly.\n\n\"A point to you, human.\"\n\n\"Stefan Skellen, son of Bertram Skellen, former Imperial Coroner, stand up. The Supreme Court of the eternal Empire by the grace of the Great Sun finds you guilty of crimes and abuse, of which you were charged. For the treason and active participation in a conspiracy against the Empire as well as the person of the Imperial Majesty. Your guilt has been ratified and proven and the Tribunal has found without any extenuation circumstances. Also His Imperial Majesty has exercised his right not to grant a pardon. Stefan Skellen, son of Bertram Skellen, you will be transported from this courtroom to the Citadel, where you will beheld until the proper time comes. As a traitor to your homeland of Nilfgaard, you are unworthy to tread upon its ground; you will be laid on a wooden skid and dragged by horses to Millennium Square. As a traitor to his homeland of Nilfgaard, you are unworthy to breathe the air; you will be hanged by the neck on the gallows between heaven and earth. So you will stay there until you die. Then your body will be cremated and the ashes scattered to the winds on the four sides of the world. Stefan Skellen, son of Bertram Skellen, traitor. I the Chairman of the Supreme Court of the Empire, sentence you and this is the last time I will speak your name. From now on, let it be forgotten.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We did it, we made it!\" Professor Oppenhauser shouted as he burst into the dean's office.\"We did it, gentlemen! Finally! Finally! It works! It moves! It works! '\n\n\"Really?\" Jean La Voisier, professor of chemistry, called Carbonstinker by his students, asked skeptically. \"Is it really possible? And how, out of curiosity, does it work?\"\n\n\"Perpetual motion!\"\n\n\"Perpetuum mobile?\" exclaimed Edmund Bumbler, the elderly zoology lecturer. \"You're not exaggerating, my dear colleague? '\n\n\"Not at all!\" Oppenhauser exclaimed, jumping like a goat. \"Not at all! It works! I've launched a functional mobile and it works! Without stopping! Perpetually! Forever and ever! There are no words to describe it, colleagues, you have to see it! Come with me, hurry! '\n\n\"I'm eating breakfast, ' Carbonstinker protested, but his protest was lost in the commotion, excitement and widespread bustle.\n\nThe teachers, graduates and students stood up to collect their togas, caps and gowns and ran to the door, led by the shouting and gesticulation Oppenhauser. Carbonstinker dismissed them with a digitus infamis and returned to the roll on his plate.\n\nThe group of scholars were on the march ready to seethe fruit of Oppenhauser's thirty years of efforts, they ran quickly towards the office and were about to open the door when suddenly the ground trembled. Noticeably. And strongly. Very strongly.\n\nIt was a seismic shock, one of a series of shocks caused by the destruction of the castle Stygga the hiding place of the sorcerer, Vilgefortz. The seismic wave from far off Ebbing had reached hereto Oxenfurt." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Continue the story as the author's writing assistant.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 13" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We did it, we made it!\" Professor Oppenhauser shouted as he burst into the dean's office.\"We did it, gentlemen! Finally! Finally! It works! It moves! It works! '\n\n\"Really?\" Jean La Voisier, professor of chemistry, called Carbonstinker by his students, asked skeptically. \"Is it really possible? And how, out of curiosity, does it work?\"\n\n\"Perpetual motion!\"\n\n\"Perpetuum mobile?\" exclaimed Edmund Bumbler, the elderly zoology lecturer. \"You're not exaggerating, my dear colleague? '\n\n\"Not at all!\" Oppenhauser exclaimed, jumping like a goat. \"Not at all! It works! I've launched a functional mobile and it works! Without stopping! Perpetually! Forever and ever! There are no words to describe it, colleagues, you have to see it! Come with me, hurry! '\n\n\"I'm eating breakfast, ' Carbonstinker protested, but his protest was lost in the commotion, excitement and widespread bustle.\n\nThe teachers, graduates and students stood up to collect their togas, caps and gowns and ran to the door, led by the shouting and gesticulation Oppenhauser. Carbonstinker dismissed them with a digitus infamis and returned to the roll on his plate.\n\nThe group of scholars were on the march ready to seethe fruit of Oppenhauser's thirty years of efforts, they ran quickly towards the office and were about to open the door when suddenly the ground trembled. Noticeably. And strongly. Very strongly.\n\nIt was a seismic shock, one of a series of shocks caused by the destruction of the castle Stygga the hiding place of the sorcerer, Vilgefortz. The seismic wave from far off Ebbing had reached hereto Oxenfurt." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With a clatter, several panes of stained glass fell from the front of the Department of Fine Arts. The dusty bust of Nicodemus de Boot, the first rector of the academic institution, fell from its pedestal. Carbonstinker's cup of tea fell from the table where he was eating his roll. From a banana tree a freshmen from the physics department, Albert Solpietra, fell while trying to impress the female medical students.\n\nThe perpetual motion machine of Professor Oppenhauser, the legendary inventor, moved for the last time, before standing still. Forever. And it was never possible to restart it.\n\n\"Long live the dwarves! Long live Mahakam!\"\n\nWhat a band, what soldiers, thought the hierarch Hemmelfart, as he bless the parade with his trembling hands. Who are they cheering here? The venal condottieri, the obscene dwarves, what kind of madness is this? In the end, who won this war, them or us? By the gods, I have to warn the monarchs. When historians and scribes are put to work, we must subject their works through censorship. Mercenaries, witchers, murderers for hire, non-humans and all kinds of suspicious items should disappear from the annals of mankind. We have to erase them. Not a word about them. Not a word.\n\nAnd not a word about him too, he thought, clenching his lips and looking at Dijkstra, watching the parade with a clearly bored expression.\n\nIt will be necessary, thought the hierarch, to issue a command to the kings about Dijkstra. His presence is an insult to decent people. This atheist and villain. Let him disappear without a trace. And let him be forgotten.\n\nThis is what you think, you sanctimonious purple pig, thought Philippa Eilhart, effortlessly reading the hierarch's mind. Do you want to rule, do you want to dictate and influence? Would you like to decide? Never! The only thing you can decide about is your hemorrhoids and even that is on your own ass, and you decisions there will not be relevant either." }, { "from": "human", "value": "And Dijkstra remains." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As long as I need him.\n\nOnce you make a mistake, thought the priest Willemer, fixing his eyes on the shiny red lips of Philippa Eilhart. Or any of you make a mistake. And you'll lose your conceit, arrogance and pride. The plots that you weave. Your immorality. Your atrocity and perversions to which you surrender, in which you live. All light will eventually leave, and the pestilence of your sins will spread when you make a mistake. The moment will come.\n\nBecause even if you do not make a mistake, I will find away to defame you. Some misfortune will befall mankind– a curse, a plague, a pestilence of perhaps an epidemic... Then all the blame will be on you. You will be punished for not having been able to prevent the plague, by not knowing how to avoid its consequences. You will carry with you all the blame.\n\nAnd then I will light the fire.\n\nThe old tomcat, called Ginger because of the color of his coat, died. Ugly. Convulsing in agony, clawing, vomiting blood and pus and suffering from bloody diarrhea. He meowed, even though he knew it was beneath his dignity. His meow was pitifully weak. He was losing strength quickly.\n\nGinger knew why he was dying. Or at least figured out what had killed him.\n\nA few days ago a strange freighter entered the harbor at Cintra, an old grimy hulk, which carried on the bow a barely legible inscription'Catriona\". Ginger– obviously-could not read the name. A rat, walking down a mooring rope, came down to the dock. Just one. It was a mangy and dirty looking rat. And it was missing an ear." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ginger bit the rat. He was hungry, but his instinct stopped his from devouring this abomination. However, several large, black, shiny fleas jumped from the rat and settled in his fur.\n\n\"What happened to this cat?\"\n\n\"Probably been poisoned.\"\n\n\"Ugh, it stinks! Remove it from here, woman!\"\n\nGinger stiffened and noiselessly opened his bloody mouth. He no longer felt the broom which the lady of the house thanked him with for his eleven years of catching mice. He was expelled from the house, dying in a gutter full of suds and urine. Dying and also wishing those ungrateful people would also fall ill. To suffer as much as he was.\n\nHis last wish was soon fulfilled. On a large scale. A scale so large a cat's mind could not even imagine.\n\nThe woman, who expelled Ginger out into the gutter, paused and pulled her skirt up so she could scratch above her knee. It itched.\n\nA flea had bitten her.\n\nThe stars twinkled brightly over Elskerdeg. The sparks from the fire vanished into this background.\n\n\"Neither the peace of Cintra,\" said the elf, \"nor the more pompous parade at Novigrad can be considered a turning point or milestone. What are their meaning? Governments do not create history with revenues and decrees and no one will accept their authority as truth. One of the brighter manifestation of human arrogance is your so-called historiography, trying to deliver opinions and verdicts on'past events\" as you call them. This is typical of you humans, who nature has given an existence as fleeting as that of an insect or an ant, with your ridiculous life-spans under a hundred years. Your fleeting existence is trying to adapt to the complexity of the world. You refuse to take note that history is a process that constantly continues and never ends; it cannot be divided into sections from hereto here, from date to date. It is not impossible to define history, let alone change it, by a proclamation by a monarch. Even if you win the war.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Do not undertake a philosophical discourse,\" the pilgrim said. \"As I said, I am a simple man. I will, however, draw attention to two things. Firstly, a short life protects us against decadence, forcing people to live intensely and fully to take advantage of every moment of life and enjoy it. I speak as a human being, but that same thought probably occurred to the long lived elves who were going off to fight in the Scoia'tael commandos. Correct me if I'm wrong.\"\n\nThe pilgrim waited a reasonable amount of time, but no one corrected him.\n\n\"Secondly,\" he continued, \"it seems tome that the governments, thought not being able to change history, can with their interference create the illusion which is quite convincing. They have the tools and the methods.\"\n\n\"Oh yes,\" said the elf, turning his face away. \"The powerful have tools and methods. And there is no arguing with them.\"\n\nThe galley, bumped against the rail of the pier that was covered in piles of seaweed and shells. The moorings were thrown. There were shouts, oaths and commands.\n\nGulls collected garbage that floated on the surface of the water. On the shore a crowd was waiting– mostly soldiers.\n\n\"End of the lines, elves,\" said the Nilfgaardian commander. \"We are in Dillingen. The soldiers are waiting for you.\"\n\nHe was right, they were waiting for them.\n\nNone of the elves– and certainly not Faoiltiarna– did not believe the assurances that they would receive fair trails and amnesty. The Scoia'tael officers from the Vrihedd brigade did not have any false hopes about the fate that awaited them after the Yaruga. Most were reconciled, stoically accepting it and resigned themselves. They were convinced that nothing else could surprise them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They were wrong.\n\nThey were shoved from the galley. Their chains rattled noisily. They were driven down the pier and led to a boardwalk, between two rows of armed soldiers. There were civilians there too, whose quick eyes jumped from one prisoners face to another.\n\nThey will carryout the selection, thought Faoiltiarna. He was not mistaken. The chances of his scarred face being overlooked were not possible.\n\n\"Isengrim Faoiltiarna. The Iron Wolf. What a nice surprise!\"\n\nThe soldiers dragged him out of the crowd of prisoners.\n\n\"Va Faill,\" Coinneach Dá Reo called after him, who was also identified and dragged off by other men who wore the bade of the red eagle of Redania. \"Se'ved, cáerme se dea! '\n\n\"You'll see him, \"growled the civilian who had picked out Faoiltiarna,\"but only in hell! They are already waiting for him in Drakenborg. Wait! Isn't that Riordain? Take him!\"\n\nThe next to be selected was Angus Bri Cri.\n\nThey had only selected three of them. Only three.\n\nFaoiltiarna realized what was happening and suddenly, to his surprise, he began to feel afraid.\n\n\"Va Faill!\" Angus Bri Cri shouted, as he was dragged away with his other brethren. \"Va Faill, fraeren!\"\n\nA soldier pushed him brutally.\n\nThey did not take them far. They came to a hut close to the marina. Just off the dock, which swayed with a forest of masts.\n\nThe civilian nodded. Faoiltiarna was pushed up against a pole, under abeam over which they had thrown a rope. They began to attach an iron hook to the rope. Riordain and Angus sat beside him on a bench." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Mister Riordain, Mister Bri Cri,\" said the civilian coldly. \"You have been covered by the amnesty. The court has decided to be gracious. Justice must be satisfied, however,\" he added without waiting fora response. \"for the families for those you have killed. The verdict has been handed down.\"\n\nBoth elves did not have time to scream. From behind them a noose was thrown around their necks and pulled. They fell off of the bench and were dragged across the floor. With their hands cuffed they were unable to loosen the ropes. Executioners knelt on their chests. Knives flashed, drawing blood. The noose was notable to mute the sounds that made hair stand on end.\n\nIt took along time. It always did.\n\n\"Your verdict, Mister Faoiltiarna,\" said a third civilian to the elf, \"has come with an additional specialty. Something extra...\"\n\nFaoiltiarna was not going to wait for any specialty. The locked handcuffs, which he had worked on for the last two nights, now opened as if by magic.\n\nA terrible blow from the heavy chain toppled both of the soldiers guarding him. Faoiltiarna next jumped up and hit a civilian in the face with his chains, then jumped through a small window covered in cobwebs, sweeping away the glass and frame, and leaving remains of his blood and shreds of his clothes.\n\nHe clattered onto the planks of the pier. He tumbled, rolled and dived into the water, among the fishing boats and barges. The thick chains which were still attached to his right wrist, dragged him to the bottom. Faoiltiarna fought with all his strength to fight for his life, that until recently he thought he hadn't cared about." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Catch him!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "the soldiers tore out of the shed. \"Catch him! Kill him!\"\n\n\"There!\" shouted others, coming from further down the pier. \"To the boats!\"\n\n\"Shoot him!\" shouted the civilian hoarsely, trying to stem the blood with both hands that flowed from his eye. \"Kill him!\"\n\nHe heard the click of crossbows. Gulls flew past, squealing.\n\nThe dirty water between the barges began to spay with the impact of arrows.\n\n\"Hurray!\" The parade was lengthening and the multitudes of Novigrad were showing symptoms of fatigue and hoarseness. \"Hurray!\"\n\n\"Glory to the kings!\"\n\nPhilippa Eilhart looked around, making sure that no one unauthorized was listening and leaned in towards Dijkstra.\n\n\"What did you want to talk tome about?\"\n\nThe spy also looked around.\n\n\"The assassination of King Vizimir in July last year.\"\n\n\"I'm listening'\n\n\"The half-elf who murdered the king,\" Dijkstra lowered his voice even more, \"was definitely crazy. But he was not alone.\"\n\n\"What are you saying?\"\n\n\"Quiet,\" hissed Dijkstra. \"Hush, Phil.\"\n\n\"Do not call me Phil. Do you have evidence? What? From where?\"\n\n\"You'd be surprised, Phil, if I told you where. When can I expect an audience with Your Ladyship? '\n\nPhilippa Eilhart's eyes were like two black bottomless lakes.\n\n\"Soon, Dijkstra.\"\n\nBells rang. The crowd cheered hoarsely. The troops marched. The petals of flowers fell like snowflakes on the pavement of Novigrad." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Are you still writing?\"\n\nOri Reuven flinched and made a splash. He had served Dijkstra for nineteen years, but he was still not used to the stealthy movements of his boss, his sudden appearance and where or how he did it.\n\n\"Good evening, ahem, ahem, my lord...\"\n\n\"Shadow People,\" Dijkstra read the front of the manuscript that he had taken from the table. \"Or the story of His Majesty's Secret Service, written by Oribasius Gianfranco Paolo Reuven, law grad... Oh, Ori. At your age, such nonsense... '\n\n\"Ahem, ahem...\"\n\n\"I came to say goodbye, Ori.\"\n\nReuven looked at him in amazement.\n\n\"You see, my faithful friend,\" said the spy, without waiting for the clerk to cough, \"I am old, and besides that, I am stupid. I said a word to one person. Only one. And only one word. It was one word too many, and one person too many. Pay attention, Ori. Do you hear?\"\n\nOri Reuven rolled his astonished eyes and shook his head. Dijkstra was silent fora moment.\n\n\"You do not hear,\" he said after a moment. \"And I hear them. In the corridors. Rats running around the city of Tretogor. Here we have them. Approaching on their soft little paws.\"\n\nThey emerged from the darkness of the shadows. Black, masked and fast as rats. The guards and sentries in the antechamber succumbed without a cry to the lightning strikes of their stilettos with narrow angular edges.\n\nBlood ran over the floor of the Palace of Tretogor, on its swept and stain wooden floors, seeping into the rare carpets from Vengerberg." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They came down all corridors, leaving a trail of corpses.\n\n\"There,\" said one, pointing to a door. His voice was muffled by a scarf that covered his face up to his eyes. \"Through there. Through the office where old Reuven works.\"\n\n\"There is no escape,\" said the one who was in charge, his eyes shone through the velvet masks openings. \"Behind the desk is a blind room, it does not even have a window.\"\n\n\"All the corridors are covered. All the doors and all the windows. He cannot escape. He is in our trap.\"\n\n\"Forward!\"\n\nThe door swung open and weapons gleamed.\n\n\"Death! Death to the murderous torturer!\"\n\n\"Ahem, ahem?\" Ori Reuven rolled his myopic and fearful eyes. \"What do you want? How can I, ahem, ahem, help you, gentlemen?\"\n\nThe murderers went to the door to Dijkstra's private chamber rushing around the room like rats, penetrating every nook and cranny. They flew over the floor, picking at tapestries, painting and panels. With their stilettos they tore the curtains and upholstery.\n\n\"He's gone! \"shouted one, running from the office.\"He's gone!\"\n\n\"Where is he?\" asked the leader, leaning over Ori and drilling him with a look from behind the holes of his black mask. \"Where is that bloody dog?\"\n\n\"Not here,\" said Ori Reuven, without fear. \"You can see that for yourself.\"\n\n\"Where is he? Speak up! Where is he?\"\n\n\"I don't know, ahem, ahem, \"Ori coughed.\"Am I my brother's keeper?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You will die, old man!\"\n\n\"I am an old man. I'm sick. And very tired. Ahem, ahem. I do not have any fear of your knifes. '\n\nThe murderers left the room at a run. And disappeared as quickly as they appeared.\n\nThey did not kill Ori Reuven. They were following orders. And among those orders where nothing concerning Ori Reuven.\n\nOribasius Gianfranco Paolo Reuven, spent six years in various prisons, interrogated repeatedly by successive judges, who questioned him on various topics, which often did not seem to make any sense.\n\nAfter six years he was released. At that time he was very ill. Scurvy had left him without teeth, anemia hairless, glaucoma sightless and asthma without breath.\n\nDuring the interrogation they broke the fingers on both hands.\n\nHe lived for less than a year in the wild. He died in a temple hospice. In misery. Forgotten.\n\nThe manuscript of his book Shadow People, or the story of His Majesty's Secret Service disappeared without a trace.\n\nThe sky was getting light to the east, the tops of the trees had a pale aura that heralded dawn.\n\nThere had been silence around the bonfire fora longtime. the pilgrim, the elf and the tracker watched the dying fire and said nothing.\n\nElskerdeg was again silent. The howling specter had moved on, tired of howling at them, having finally understood that the three individuals sitting around the fire had seen too many horrors to worry about a single specter.\n\n\"If we are to travel together,\" Boreas Mun said suddenly, his eyes still lingering on the embers of the fire, glowing ruby-red, \"we ought to overcome our misgivings. Leave behind everything that happened. the world has changed. We have anew life ahead of us. Something ends, something begins... We hoped...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "He paused and coughed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He was not used to talking about these things and was afraid of ridicule. But his companions were not taking it as a joke or laughing. On the contrary, Boreas felt warmth emanating from them.\n\n\"We hoped that beyond Elskerdeg Pass,\" he continued, \"that the we will be safer in Zerrikania or Haakland. We expect along and dangerous journey. If we are going to explore it together... we must overcome our misgivings. My name is Boreas Mun.\"\n\nThe pilgrim with the brimmed hat stood, straightening his powerful frame, and shook the outstretched hand towards him. The elf also rose. A strange grimace appeared on his macabre disfigured face.\n\nAfter shaking hands with the tracker, the pilgrim and the elf also shook hands.\n\n\"The world has changed,\" said the pilgrim. \"Something ends. I'm Sigi Reuven. '\n\n\"Something begins,\" the elf with the scarred face grimaced in what, according to all indications, was a smile. \"My name is... Wolf Isengrim.\"\n\nThey shook hands quickly. forcefully, even with abruptness.\n\nFora moment it seemed like a preamble to a battle, more than a gesture of harmony. But only fora moment. The wood in the fire threw up sparks, celebrating the event with lively fireworks.\n\n\"The evil take me,\" grinned Boreas Mun, \"if it's not the beginning of a beautiful friendship. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "... As well as many of the other faithful, St. Philippa was also besmirched with betraying the Kingdom, inducing riots and plotting a coup. Willemer, a heretic and sectarian, unlawfully appointed himself the title of archpriest, and ordered St. Philippa to be thrown into a dark dungeon, and to plague her with cold and hunger, until she confessed to her sins of which she was accused and repented. Also various instruments of torture were used to try and break her spirit. But ST. Philippa with distain, spit in his face and accused him of sodomy.\n\nThe heretic had her disrobed and whipped her with barbed wire and placed sharp splinters under her nails. While unceasingly preaching about his faith and denouncing the Goddess. But St. Philippa laughed at him and recommended to him to heal his sick mind.\n\nWillemer then gave the order to have her taken to the rack and stretched, while tearing her body with sharp hooks and burning her with candles. Although thus tormented, St. Philippa showed no weakness in body and indeed her resistance and endurance seemed almost superhuman. The executioner's arms went limp and with fear they retreated from her. Then the filthy heretic, Willemer, began to threaten them and told them to continue the torment. They burned St. Philippa with red-hot irons, pulled her limbs out of their joints and pulled at her breasts with blacksmith tongs. And although she passed away from this torment, she confessed nothing.\n\nThe shameless heretic Willemer, we read in the books of our holy fathers, later suffered for this punishment and it was that lice and worms began to eat him alive, his entrails rotted away and he died miserably. His carcass carried with it afoul stench and nobody wanted to bury him, and so he was dropped in a swamp." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For the suffering and death of St. Philippa the eternal memory of a martyr's crown rightfully belongs. Let us give the Great Mother Goddess praise for her lessons and teachings. Amen.\n\nThe life of St. Philippa, martyr of Mons Calvus,\n\nFrom the Book of Martyrs compiled in the Breviary of Tretogor,\n\nFor the contemplation of the holy fathers and mothers.\n\nThey galloped at breakneck speeds like madmen. They rode through vibrant spring days. The horses were flying, and people who were toiling, straightened their bent necks and backs and could not believe their eyes– did they just see riders or ghosts?\n\nThey galloped at night, in the dark, damp nights and through the warm rain. People awoke in bed and looked around terrified, fighting against the pain that grew in them, in their throats and chests. They jumped out of bed at the sound of the pounding of the shutters, the crying of the children and the howls of the dogs. They peered through the windows, not believing their eyes– were these riders or ghosts?\n\nIn Ebbing stories began to circulate about the three demons.\n\nThe trio of riders appeared suddenly, out of nowhere, as if by magic, catching by surprise The Lame, who had no opportunity to escape. Neither did he have time to turn for help. More than five hundred paces separated the cripple from the first row of house of the village. Even if it were closer, the cripple would receive no help from the residents of Jealousy. It was siesta time, which in this sleepy hamlet usually lasted from late morning to early evening.\n\nAristotle Bobeck, nicknamed the Lame, a local beggar and philosopher knew that during siesta time the villagers would not respond anything." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The riders were three. Two women and a man. The man had white hair and a sword lying across his back. One of the women was dressed in black and white and had inky black, curly hair. The youngest, had ashen hair and a disfiguring scar on her cheek. She rode a beautiful black mare. The Lame had a sense of seeing the horse before.\n\nThe youngest girl spoke first.\n\n\"Are you from here?\"\n\n\"I did nothing,\" said the Lame, his teeth chattering. \"I collect morels here. Have pity, do not hurt a cripple.\"\n\n\"Are you from here?\" she repeated, her green eyes flashing with warning.\n\nThe Lame started to cringe.\n\n\"Yes, my lady,\" he said. \"I come from here, from Birka. I mean, Jealousy. I was born here and here I will surely die...\"\n\n\"Were you here last summer and fall?\"\n\n\"Where else would I be?\"\n\n\"Do not answer me with questions!\"\n\n\"I was here, my lady.\"\n\nThe black mare shook its head and pricked up its ears. The cripple felt the glares from the white haired and the black haired woman sting like thorns. He feared the white haired man the most.\n\n\"Last year,\" the girl with the scar told the cripple, \"in September, more specifically September ninth, during the first quarter of the moon, six young people were murdered here. Four boys... And two girls. Do you remember this?\"\n\nThe Lame swallowed. He suspected for sometime, now he was sure.\n\nThe girl had changed. It was not just the scar on her face. She was not the same now as she was back then when she was tied to the pole and Bonhart forced her to watch as he cut the heads off of the Rats. Not the same as when she was forced to undress in the Chimera's Head Inn and the Bounty Hunter beat her. Those eyes... Those eyes had changed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Speak!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "snapped the woman with the black hair. \"Tell us what we ask!\"\n\n\"I remember, my lady,\" said the Lame. \"I remember the six kids being killed. Last year it was. In September.\"\n\nThe girl was silent fora while. Not looking at him but at some point in the distance, above his shoulder.\n\n\"So, you most likely know...\" she said at last, with effort, \"where the young ones where buried. At the bottom of which stockade... under which dumpster or what dunghill... Or if the bodies were burned... If they were taken to the forest and left for the foxes and wolves... Take me there. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"I understand, my lady. Follow me, it is a short walk.\"\n\nHe limped forward and felt the hot breath of the horses on the nape of his neck. He never looked up. Something told him that he should not.\n\n\"Here we are,\" he pointed after awhile. \"This is our village cemetery. And here are the ones that you asked about, Lady Falka.\"\n\nShe took a deep breath. The Lame look at her to seethe expression on her face. Black-hair and white-hair were silent, their faces like stone. She stared at the long low mound of the common grave, neat, tidy and topped with sandstone slabs. The spruce that had adorned the mound was discolored and the flowers that someone had placed here long ago were now dry and yellowish.\n\nThe girl jumped down from her horse.\n\n\"Who?\" the girl asked quietly, still staring at the mound.\n\n\"Well,\" the Lame cleared his throat, \"a lot of the locals from Jealousy contributed. But mostly it was the widow Goulue and young Nycklar. The widow has always been a good and kind woman. And Nycklar... he was haunted by terrible dreams. Until he gave the dead a proper burial.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Where can I find the widow and Nycklar?\"\n\nThe Lame was silent fora long moment.\n\n\"The widow is here buried behind that twisted birch,\" he said finally, looking fearlessly into the green eyes of the girl. \"She was taken by pneumonia this winter. And Nycklar was drafted into the army. We heard that he supposedly died in the war.\"\n\n\"I had forgotten,\" she whispered. \"Forgotten that their fate had been linked to mine.\"\n\nShe approached the mound and knelt, or rather fell to the ground. She bent low, almost touching her face to the sandstone slabs. The Lame noticed that the white haired man made a motion as if to dismount, but the dark-haired lady caught him by the arm and held him with a gesture and a gaze.\n\nThe horses snorted, tossing their heads and rattling their bridles.\n\nFora longtime the girl knelt over the graves, he lips moving in a silent litany. She rose, faltered. The Lame inadvertently caught her elbow. She started strongly, and yanked her arm away. She looked at him angrily through her tears. But did not say a word. She even nodded with thanks when he held her stirrup.\n\n\"Well, my lady Falka,\" he dared. \"The strange wheel of destiny is turning. You were at that time in a dreadful position. Few of us herein Jealousy thought that you'd escape with your life. And here you are today, alive and well, while Goulue and Nycklar are in the other world. Who can you express your gratitude to for the grave... '\n\n\"My name is not Falka,\" she said sharply. \"My name is Ciri. And in regards to my gratitude...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You can feel honored because of her,\" the dark-haired one spoke chillingly, making the Lame shiver. \"For her grace, for humanity has come to you all, to your entire village, and that is your reward. And you do not know how big that is.\"\n\nOn the ninth of April, shortly after midnight, the first inhabitants of Claremont awakened to a bright red glow flickering through the widows of their homes. The rest of the inhabitants of the town rushed out of bed to screaming, a commotion and the ringing of an alarm bell.\n\nOnly one of the buildings were on fire. A large wooden building of the former temple, once dedicated to a deity, whose name was not even remembered by the oldest of old women. The temple, had now converted into a amphitheatre, which occasionally held circus spectacles, fighting and other diversions used to pull the Claremont villagers out of boredom, melancholy and lethargy.\n\nThe amphitheatre was now inflames and shaking with explosions. From all the windows shot tongues of flames.\n\n'Put it out! Roared the owner of the amphitheatre, a merchant named Houvenaghel, running about and waving his hands, his powerful paunch shaking. He was in a nightcap and a heavy fur-lined coat which he had thrown on over his dressing gown. He ran barefoot through the mud in the streets.\n\n\"Put it out! Men! Get water!\"\n\n\"This is the punishment of the gods,\" said one old lady. \"For the grievances that took place in their former abode.\"\n\n\"Aye, aunt. It certainly is.\"\n\nFrom the burning building radiated heat which evaporated puddles of stinking horse urine, with hissing sparks. Suddenly a wind sprang up." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Put it out! Houvenaghel screamed wildly, seeing the fire spread to the brewery and granary.\"Men! Get buckets for the water! '\n\nThere was no shortage of volunteers. Claremont even had its own fire department, equipped and maintained by Houvenaghel. They did everything in their power to putout the fire. But it was useless.\n\n\"We cannot handle it,\" the fire brigade commander groaned, rubbing his soot smeared face. \"This is no ordinary fire... It is afire from hell.\"\n\n\"Black magic...\" coughed another fireman.\n\nFrom the burning building they head an ominous creaking and the sound of rafters and beams cracking. There was a thunderous rumble and sparks and flames shot high into the sky. The roof broke and fell into the arena. The whole building bent as if bowing to an audience. Then the walls collapsed.\n\nWith effort the fire-fighters and volunteers managed to save part of the granary and about a quarter of the brewery.\n\nDawn came smelly and pungent.\n\nHouvenaghel satin the mud and ashes, his nightcap and gown sooty and dirty. He cried bitterly, pouting like a child. Naturally he had insured the theatre, the brewery and the granary. The problem was that the insurance company was owned by Houvenaghel. Nothing, not even tax fraud, could compensate for his losses.\n\n\"Now where?\" Geralt asked, looking at the column of smoke that clouded the rosy morning sky. \"Where else do you want to visit, Ciri?\"\n\nShe looked at him and he soon regretted asking. Suddenly he wanted to hug her, he dreamed of holding her in his arms, cuddling her and caressing her hair. To protect her. And never allow her to be alone. To not suffer anymore evil. And that nothing would happen to her that would make him crave revenge." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yennefer was silent. Yennefer was often silent lately.\n\n\"Now,\" Ciri said quietly, \"we go to a village call Unicorn. The name comes from the straw unicorn that protects the town. A poor and ridiculous puppet. I would like that, as a reminder of what happened there, the inhabitants have... if not valuable, at least a more dignified idol. I would like to ask for your help, Yennefer, because without magic...\"\n\n\"Sure, Ciri. What next?\"\n\n\"The Pereplut Swamps. I am confident that I will be able to... find a cabin in the middle of the swamp. I will find the remains of a man. I want those remains to rest in a decent tomb.\"\n\nGeralt said nothing. But didn't look away.\n\n\"After,\" continued Ciri, without the slightest difficulty withstanding his look, \"the village of Dun Dare. The local tavern has probably been burned and it is possible that the innkeeper has been murdered. It is my fault; I was blinded by hatred and revenge. If he had a family, I'll try and make it up to the survivors. '\n\n\"You cannot make it up,\" Geralt said, still looking at her.\n\n\"I know,\" she said sharply, almost angrily. \"But I will stand in front of them with humility. I will remember the look in their eyes. I hope that the memory of those eyes will protect me from similar mistakes. Do you understand, Geralt?\"\n\n\"I understand, Ciri,\" Yennefer said. \"Both of us, we understand you very well, my dear. Let's go. '\n\nThe horses ran as if carried by the wind of a magic storm. Alarmed by the trio of riders, a pilgrim on the road lifted his head. A merchant with a wagonload of goods, a felon fleeing the law, a settler who had been thrown out of his land. A bum looked up, a deserter and a wander with a staff. They raised their heads, astonished and frightened. Not believing their eyes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In Geso in Ebbing, stories began to circulate. About the Wild Hunt. About three ghostly riders. Rumors were invented and spun in the evenings, in smoky pubs that smelled of fried onions and butter and in meeting rooms and huts. Rumors were invented, told and exaggerated. A great war of heroism and chivalry, of honor and friendship as well as meaningless treachery. With sincere and faithful love, which always wins out in the end, about crime and punishment of criminals that are always struck by justice.\n\nThe truth, as always rises up, like oil on water.\n\nThey invented lies and enjoyed these fables. They reveled in pure fantasy. Because out in the real world, everything worked out the opposite.\n\nThe legend grew. People listened as if in a trance, captivated by the emphatic words of the storyteller who told the story of the witcher and the sorceress. The story of the Tower of the Swallow. Of Ciri, the witcheress with the scarred face. Of Kelpie, the magical black mare. Of the Lady of the Lake. That came many years later.\n\nBut for now, like a seed soaked by rain, the legend sprouted and grew among the people.\n\nThey did not realize when May came. They first noticed at nighttime, when they saw the bright, distance fires of Belleteyn. When Ciri, with strange excitement jumped onto Kelpie's back and galloped towards the fires, Geralt and Yennefer took advantage of the intimate moment.\n\nAfter removing the necessary clothes, they made love on a sheepskin on the ground. They made love urgently, in silence, without words. They made love quickly, however.\n\nAnd then along came the climax and fulfillment, trembling and kissing each other's tears, amazed at that fate had given them time to express their love." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Geralt?\"\n\n\"I'm listening, Yen. '\n\n\"When we... When we were not together, where you with other women?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Not once?\"\n\n\"Not once.\"\n\n\"Your voice did not tremble. So I do not know why I don't believe you. '\n\n\"I am only for you, Yen.\"\n\n\"Now I do.\"\n\nWithout realizing it, May had arrived. Dandelions grew in the meadows and the trees were white and fluffy and thick with flowers. The oak, too noble to rush, remained dark, but on the edges, green leaves were beginning to show.\n\nOne night they spent under the open sky, they witcher awakened from a nightmare. It seemed as if he was paralyzed and helpless, a great grey owl was clawing at his face and with its sharp hooked beak, trying to peck his eyes out. He awoke. But he was not sure if he had moved from one nightmare to another.\n\nOver their encampment poured bright light that startled the horses. In the midst of the brightness a room was visible– a columned hall in a castle. Around a table sat ten figures. Ten women.\n\nHe could hear words. Snippets of sentences.\n\n\"... Bring her to us, Yennefer. We command you.\"\n\n\"You cannot give me orders. You cannot give orders to her. You don't have any power over her! '\n\n\"I'm not afraid of them, mother. They cannot do anything. If they wish, I will stand before them.\n\n\"We will meet on June first. At the new moon. We command you both to appear. We warn you, we'll punish any disobedience. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I will come now, Philippa. Let her stay with him. Don't leave him alone. Just a couple of days. I will come immediately. As a show of good faith. I have vowed, Philippa. Please. '\n\nThe light began to throb. The horses snorted, crazed and kicked at the ground.\n\nThe witcher awoke. This time for real.\n\nThe next day Yennefer confirmed his fears. After along meeting, which they excluded Ciri from.\n\n\"I'm leaving, \"she said dryly.\"I have to. Ciri will stay with you. Fora time. Then it will come time for her to leave as well. And then we'll all meet again.\"\n\nNe nodded. Reluctantly. He'd had enough of nodding silently, agreeing with every decision. But he nodded. One way or another, he loved her.\n\n\"It is imperative,\" she said mildly, \"that you not resist. Nor can you postpone it. It is necessary to comply. I'm doing this for your own good. And especially for the good of Ciri. '\n\nHe nodded.\n\n\"Until we meet again,\" she said almost tenderly, \"I'll make it up to you, Geralt. There has been too much silence between us. Now instead of nodding, give me a hug and kiss. '\n\nHe obeyed. One way or another, he loved her.\n\n\"Now where?\" Ciri asked, she had barely spoken since Yennefer had disappeared with a flash through her portal.\n\n\"The river...\" Geralt coughed, conquering the pain under his breastbone. \"The river in front of us is called the Sansretour. We are going upstream. To a place that I want to show you. It is a land of fairytales.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ciri frowned. Her saw her clench her fists.\n\n\"All fairytales,\" she said, end badly. There does not exist a fairytale land. '\n\n\"There does. You'll see. '\n\nIt was the day after the full moon, when they saw Toussaint, bathed in green and the sunlight. When they saw the hills, slopes and vineyards. The roofs of towers and castles, shining in the morning sun.\n\nThe view did not disappoint. It was impressive. As it always was.\n\n\"This is beautiful,\" Ciri said with delight. \"Wow! Those castles are like toys... Like glazed decorations on a cake3... It is tempting to lick!\"\n\n\"The architecture is by Faramond,\" Geralt wisely instructed. \"Wait until you seen up close the palaces and gardens of Beauclair.\"\n\n\"Palace? We're going to the palace? You know the local king? '\n\n\"Duchess.\"\n\n\"The Duchess,\" she said wryly, watching him intently from beneath her fringe, \"doesn't have green eyes? Short black hair? '\n\n\"No,\" he snapped, looking away. \"She look completely different. I don't know where you got that idea... '\n\n\"Let's not talk about it Geralt, all right? How do you know the local Duchess? '\n\n\"As I said, I know her. A little bit. Not very well, if you're interested. But, I know the local prince consort or candidate for consort. You also know him, Ciri. '\n\nCiri kicked Kelpie in the sides, making her dance in the road.\n\n\"Don't make me suffer! '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Dandelion.\"\n\nDandelion? With the Duchess? How is that possible? '\n\n\"It's along story. We left him here, alongside his beloved. We promised him to visit on our return visit, when... '\n\nHe paused and became serious.\n\n\"There was nothing you could do,\" Ciri said quietly. \"Do not torture yourself, Geralt. It's not your fault. '\n\nYes it is my fault, he thought. Mine. Dandelion will ask. And I'll have to answer. Milva. Cahir. Regis. Angouleme.\n\nThe sword of destiny cuts both ways.\n\nBy all the gods, that's enough. Enough. We must end this once and for all!\n\n\"Come on, Ciri.\"\n\n\"In these clothes?\" she said. \"To the palace?\"\n\n\"I don't see anything wrong with our clothes, \"he interrupted.\"We are not going to a ball. We can meet Dandelion in the stables. \"He saw the look on her face and quickly added.\"I have to go down to the bank. I'll pickup some cash. In the squares and streets you'll find a lot of tailors and dressmakers. You can buy what you want and dress up how you please. '\n\n\"Good,\" she playfully cocked her head. \"You've got cash? '\n\n\"You can buy yourself whatever you want,\" he repeated. \"Even ermine. And basilisk shoes. I know a shoemaker, who should have some in stock.\"\n\n\"How did you make so much money?\"\n\n\"By killing. Let's go, Ciri, let's not waste time.\"\n\nIn the bank of Cianfanelli, Geralt requested a transfer, credit allocation and took some money. He wrote letters that were given to fast couriers that were riding for the Yaruga. He politely excused himself from the dinner invitation from the attentive and polite banker." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ciri waited in the street watching the horses. The street, which was empty a moment ago, was now swarming with people.\n\n\"I think today is a holiday,\" Ciri nodded with her head towards the square where the crowd was heading. \"Or a fair...\"\n\nGeralt took a quick look.\n\n\"That's not a fair. '\n\n\"Ah...\" Ciri stood up in her stirrups and looked around. \"So it's... '\n\n\"A execution,\" he confirmed. \"The most popular post-war entertainment. What are the reasons, Ciri?\"\n\n\"For desertion, treason, cowardice before the enemy,\" she recited fluently. \"And for economic crimes.\"\n\n\"Supplying the army with moldy biscuits,\" said the witcher. \"During the war, an enterprising merchant can easily get into trouble.\"\n\n\"This does not look like the execution of a huckster,\" Ciri pulled on Kelpie's reins, submerging herself in the middle of the crowd,\"Look, the scaffolding is covered with cloth and the executioner has anew, clean hood. He is executing someone important, perhaps a noble. So it could be cowardice in the face of the enemy... '\n\n\"Toussaint,\" Geralt shook his head, \"did not have an army that faced the enemy. No, Ciri, I guess this has to do with the economy. The condemned is probably guilty of some scam in a wine shop and damaged the foundation for the local economy. Let's go, Ciri. We don't need to watch this spectacle.\"\n\n\"How do you expect me to move?\"\n\nIndeed, it was impossible to keep riding. They had become stuck in the crowd gathering in the square, and were unable to make their way to the other side of the market." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt looked back and swore. He discovered that they could not even turnaround, people clogged the streets behind them. The crowd carried them like a river, but stopped in front of a solid wall of halberds standing around the gallows.\n\n\"Here they come!\" someone shouted and the crowd surged like a waved, picking up the cry. \"Here they come!\"\n\nThe pounding of hooves and the rattle of a cart were fully covered by the buzz of the crowd, which sounded like the hum of bumblebees. So they were caught completely by\n\nsurprise by the appearance of a cart from anally, drawn by two horses. On the cart, trying to maintain his balance with difficult was...\n\n\"Dandelion...\" Ciri groaned.\n\nGeralt suddenly felt ill. Very ill.\n\n\"It's Dandelion, \"Ciri said uneasily.\"It's him.\"\n\nThis is an injustice, thought the witcher. A damn injustice. This cannot be. This should not be. I know I was stupid and naive to believe that after all I had endured and experienced that destiny owed me. It was not only stupid, but egocentric. But I am aware, there is no need for destiny to persuade me. To prove it tome. Especially in this way. This is an injustice.\n\n\"It cannot be Dandelion,\" he said flatly, staring at Roach's mane.\n\n\"It's him, \"she said again.\"Geralt, we have to do something. '\n\n\"What,\" he asked bitterly. \"Tell me what?\"\n\nThe guard driving the cart treated Dandelion fairly, with surprising civility, without brutality, even differentially, as much as they could afford. At the foot of the steps to the gallows, they untied his hands. The poet nonchalantly scratched his ass and without hesitation began to climb the steps." }, { "from": "human", "value": "One of the steps creaked suddenly and began to sag." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dandelion barely managed to keep his balance.\n\n\"Damn!\" he exclaimed. \"This needs to be fixed! You'll end up killing someone with these stairs! That would be a disaster! '\n\nOnce Dandelion reached the gallows, two of the executioners henchmen in leather vests grabbed him. The executioner, a hulk with arms as wide as the bastions of a castle, watched the condemned through the slits cut in his hood. Nearby stood a man in rich, thought mournful black clothing. He face was no less mournful.\n\n\"Citizens of Beauclair and people from the surrounding countryside,\" he read in a troubled voice from parchment. \"Notice is hereby given that Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, aka Dandelion...\"\n\n\"Pankratz what?\" Ciri asked in a whisper.\n\n\"... according to the Supreme Court ruling of this County has been found guilty of all crimes, offenses and misdeed of which he was accused, insulting Her Majesty, treason of the state and dishonoring the establishment of the nobility through perjury, libel, and slander, also for dissipation and indecency, furthermore, obscenity and whoredom. The Tribunal had decided that Viscount Julian et cetera, et cetera, his receive the following punishment– First, mortification of his coat of arms, a thick black line through his shield. Second, confiscation of all his property, both movable and immovable, including lands, forests, castles and palaces...\"\n\n\"Castles and palaces?\" said the astonished witcher. \"What?\"\n\nDandelion snickered, making it blatantly clear what he thought of the judicial decree." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Third, the maximum penalty... our ladyship Anna Henrietta, Duchess of Toussaint and Castilian of Beauclair, has kindly switched the penalty for the above crimes, namely being dragged by horses and dismemberment, by substituting it for decapitation by the axe. Let justice be done!\"\n\nFrom the crowd came a few incoherent cries. Women standing in the first row pretended to weep and lament. Adults lifted children in their arms or put them on their shoulders, that even the smallest child would not miss the upcoming spectacle. The executions assistants rolled a stump into the center of the scaffold covered with cloth. There was much excitement when someone swiped the wicker basket designed to collect the severed head, but another was soon found.\n\nAt the foot of the scaffold four ragged urchins held out a scarf to collect the blood in. There was a great demand for this type of souvenirs, and good money could be earned.\n\n\"Geralt,\" Ciri said in a low voice. \"We have to so do something...\"\n\nHe did not answer.\n\n\"I wish to speak to the people,\" Dandelion said proudly.\n\n\"Keep it short, Viscount.\"\n\nThe poet walked to the edge of the scaffold and raised his arms. The crowd began to murmur and grew still.\n\n\"Hey, folks\" Dandelion called. \"What's new? How are you? '\n\n\"Well,\" someone from the crowd said after a moment.\n\n\"I'm glad, \"nodded the poet.\"In that case we can begin. '\n\n\"Master Executioner,\" the bailiff said pathetically. \"Do your duty!\"\n\nThe executioner approached, and according to ancient custom, knelt and bowed his head hooded head to the condemned." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Forgive me, my good man,\" he said gloomily.\n\n\"I?\" Dandelion said, surprised. \"You?\"\n\n\"Mhm.\"\n\n\"Not for anything in the world.\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"I will not forgive you for anything in the world. Why should I? Hear that, joker! Ina moment, you will cutoff my head, and you want me to forgive you? Are you kidding me or what? Shame on you! In such a sad moment.\"\n\n\"But sir,\" said the executioner. \"This is the custom... It is your last duty in the world... The condemned should forgive his executioner. Good lord, forgive me, please...\"\n\n\"No,\"\n\n\"No?\"\n\n\"No!\"\n\n\"I will not kill him,\" said the executioner standing up. \" If he will not forgive me, I will not do anything. '\n\n\"Lord Viscount,\" the bailiff took Dandelion by the elbow. \"Do not make trouble. The people are gathered, waiting... Forgive him, when he begs so nicely...\"\n\n\"I will not forgive him and that's it! '\n\n\"Master executioner,\" the bailiff said turning to the executioner. \"Can you behead him without his forgiveness? I'll repay you... '\n\nThe executioner wordlessly held out his open hand, as wide as a pan. The bailiff sighed, pulled out a purse and poured some coins into the hand. The executioner looked and then clenched his fist. He rolled his eyes within his hood.\n\n\"Okay,\" he agreed, he hid the money and walked back over to the condemned. \"Knee down, stubborn sir. Put your head on the block. If I want I can be stubborn and mischievous too. I can cut twice what I can do in one. Orin three.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I forgive you!\" Dandelion promptly shouted. \"I forgive you!\"\n\n\"Thank you.\"\n\n\"Since you have been given your pardon,\" said the mournful bailiff, \"return my money.\"\n\n'The executioner turned on his heel and raised his axe.\n\n\"Move aside, sir,\" he said in an ominously hollow voice. \"You know that according to the rules that you must not interfere with the performance of the execution. When I chop the head, blood flies.\"\n\nThe bailiff backed away so rapidly that he almost fell from the scaffold.\n\n\"Is this right?\" Dandelion knelt and stretched his neck across the stump. \"Master? Hey, Master!\"\n\n\"What do you want?\"\n\n\"You were kidding, right? When you said you wouldn't behead me with the first blow? You'll only cut once? Right?\"\n\nThe executioner's eyes sparkled.\n\n\"It'll be a surprise, ' he growled ominously.\n\nThe crowd suddenly parted before a rider who burst into the square on a lathered horse.\n\n\"Halt!\" the rider called, waving a large roll of parchment with a red seal. \"Stop the execution! On the orders of our Lady Duchess! Stop the execution! I'm hereto bring clemency for the accused. '\n\n\"Not again,\" growled the executioner lowering his axe sullenly. \"Another pardon? This is getting boring.\"\n\n\"A pardon! A reprieve!\" roared the crowd. The women in the first row started wailing even louder. The children whistled and booed with disappointment.\n\n\"Hush, people!\" shouted the bailiff and unrolled the parchment. \"This is the will of Duchess Anne Henrietta! In her immense goodness and to celebrate the peace of Cintra Her Ladyship has waived all charges against Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove and pardons him from execution...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My Dear Ermine,\" Dandelion said, smiling broadly.\n\n\"... And orders that the above Viscount Julian et cetera promptly leave the capital and the County of Toussaint and never return, because his presence is no longer welcome here, and her Ladyship never wants to lay eyes on him again. You are free, Viscount.\"\n\n\"What about my property?\" the troubadour said indignantly. \"My lands, forests and castles you can have, but let me take my lute, my horse, Pegasus, my one hundred and forty ducats and eighty dimes, my cloak lined with duck, my ring...\"\n\n\"Shut up!\" shouted Geralt, pushing through the crowd on his horse. \"Shut up and get down here you mutton head! Ciri, clear us away! Dandelion! Did you hear what I said?\"\n\n\"Geralt? Is that you?\"\n\n\"Stop your questions and get down from there right now! Come here! Jump up!\"\n\nThey walked through the crowd and went into a gallop down a close alley. Ciri went first, followed by Geralt and Dandelion riding Roach.\n\n\"What's the rush? \"the bard asked from behind the witcher.\"No one is persecuting us. '\n\n\"For now. The Duchess is likely to change her mind and revoke what she previously decided. Admit it– you knew you were going to get a pardon?\"\n\n\"No, I didn't, \"Dandelion muttered.\"But I counted on it. My Ermine has a good heart. '\n\n\"Stop with the Ermine, dammit. You just got pardoned for insults against Her Majesty, you don't want a recurrence. '\n\nThe troubadour was silent. Ciri stopped Kelpie and waited for them. When they arrived, she saw Dandelion wiping tears from his eyes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Look at him,\" she said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A viscount...\"\n\n\"Let's go, \"the witcher urged.\"Let's get out of this town and out of the borders of this lovely country. While there is still time.\"\n\nWhen they were almost to the border of Toussaint, insight of the mountain Gorgon, And official overtook them. He brought Pegasus, a saddle, a lute and Dandelion's ring. He did not listen to the question on the hundred and forty ducats.\n\nHe ignored the bard's plea to give a kiss to the Duchess with a straight face.\n\nThey followed the course of the Sansretour, until it became a small stream. The bypassed Belhaven.\n\nThey camped in the valley of Newi. Ina place that the witcher and the bard remembered well.\n\nDandelion lasted along time without asking questions.\n\nBut finally they had to tell him everything. And sit with him in silence. During the hard, painful silence that reigned, when all was said.\n\nAt noon the next day they were on the slopes of Riedbrune. The peace was prevailing throughout the area. People were trusting and accommodating. They felt safe.\n\nAt the crossroads gallows were laden with corpses.\n\nThey passed through towns on their way towards Dol Angra.\n\n\"Dandelion,\" Geralt just now noticed what he should have noticed awhile ago. \"Your priceless tube! Your memoirs. The courier didn't bring it, it's still in Toussaint.\"\n\n\"I left it,\" the poet said indifferently. \"In Ermine's dressing room, under a pile of coats, clothes and corsets. And they can stay therefor centuries. '\n\n\"Do you want to explain it?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There's nothing to explain. In Toussaint I had enough time to carefully read everything that I had written. '\n\n\"And what?\"\n\n\"I'll write it again. From the beginning. '\n\n\"I understand,\" said Geralt. \"You're a lousy writer as well as a royal favorite. To put it bluntly, what you touch you screw up. Half a century and you still have the possibility of correcting and re-writing, but not for the Duchess. What a shame, a lover driven away. Yes, yes, there is no reason to make faces! Being married to the Duchess of Toussaint was not written for you, Dandelion. '\n\n\"That remains to be seen.\"\n\n\"Do not count on me.\"\n\n\"Nobody asked you anything. But I can tell you that my Ermine has a good heart, and is a very forgiving woman. It is true that she was unnerved when she caught me with the young Baroness Nique... But surely she has calmed down, she will realize that I was not made for monogamy. She'll forgive me and be waiting... '\n\n\"You are hopelessly stupid,\" Geralt said and Ciri nodded vigorously to indicate she felt the same way.\n\n\"I will not argue with you,\" Dandelion said, offended. \"It's an intimate matter. But I am sure that she will forgive me. I'll write a touching ballad or sonnet, I'll sent it to Toussaint and... '\n\n\"Have mercy!\"\n\n\"Oh, you don't want to talk about it. Come on, let's go! Forward, Pegasus! Forward!\"\n\nThey rode.\n\nIt was the month of May.\n\n\"Because of you,\" the witcher said reproachfully, \"we had to runaway from Toussaint like outlaws or bandits. I did not have anytime to see...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Fringilla Vigo?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You would not have seen her. She left shortly after your departure, In January. She simply disappeared.\"\n\n\"I did not mean her,\" Geralt coughed, looking over at Ciri who was listening. \"I wanted to see Reynart. To introduce him to Ciri...\"\n\nDandelion bowed his head.\n\n\"The good knight Reynart do Boris-Fresnes,\" Dandelion said, \"fell in late February when facing some invaders near the border fortress of Vedette near the Cervantesa Pass. Anarietta bestowed on him posthumously...\"\n\n\"Shut up, please.\"\n\nDandelion was silent and incredibly obedient.\n\n---\n\nMay continued and grew. The intense yellow thistle in meadows disappeared, replaced by blooming, white, fluffy dandelions.\n\nIt was very green and warm. The air, after brief thunderstorms became hot, dense and sticky as barley porridge.\n\nOn the twenty-sixth of May they crossed the Yaruga on anew, white resin scented bridge. Remnants of the old bridge, black, burnt, charred piles were still visible in the water and on the shore.\n\nCiri began to get restless.\n\nGeralt knew why. He knew her intentions, her plans and arrangement with Yennefer. He was ready. Yet the thought of the painful parting stung his heart. As if in his chest a poisonous scorpion had awakened.\n\nAt the crossroads of the village of Koprivince, was an inn burned during the war and next to it stood a hundred year old oak, now in bloom. The population of the whole area, even from distant Spall, regularly used the oak tress low hanging branches to hung tablets and posters with all kinds of information. It served the people as communication. The tree was known as the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ciri, you start from that side,\" Geralt ordered dismounting form his saddle. \"Dandelion you look from the other side.\"\n\nThe branches draped with tablets, swayed in the light wind and clattered and bumped into each other.\n\nAs was usual after a war, a lot of the messages were for missing family members. Quite a few of the messages were along the lines of– \"Comeback, all is forgiven,\" there were listings for erotic massage and related services in surrounding villages and towns and lots of news and advertising.\n\nHung here and there were love letters next to denunciations, both signed and anonymous. They found there tablets containing philosophical considerations– either incomprehensible, absurd, obscene or disgusting.\n\n\"Hey,\" Dandelion called. \"The castle of Rastburg needs a witcher. They offer great rewards. Comfortable accommodation and delicious meals are provided. Any interest, Geralt?\"\n\n\"Not at all.\"\n\nCiri found the message she had been looking for.\n\nShe announced to the witcher what he had long been expecting.\n\n\"I'm going to Vengerberg, Geralt, \"she repeated.\"Don't give me that look. You know that I have an obligation. Yennefer is calling me. She is waiting there.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"And you are going to Rivia, to your secret meeting...\"\n\n\"It's a surprise, \"he interrupted.\"It isn't a secret.\"\n\n\"Okay, a surprise. I meanwhile, will go to Vengerberg and solve everything, I'll pickup Yennefer and in six days we will see you in Rivia. I asked you not to give me that look. We do not have to say goodbye like it is forever. It will only be six days. Goodbye. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Goodbye, Ciri.\"\n\n\"In Rivia, in six days,\" she insisted once again, turning Kelpie about.\n\nShe kicked her into a gallop and was quickly out of sight. Geralt felt as if icy claws were clawing at his stomach.\n\n\"Six days,\" Dandelion repeated thoughtfully. \"From hereto Vengerberg and then back to Rivia... That will total about two hundred and fifty miles... That's impossible, Geralt. Of course, with that magical mare, she can travel three times faster than us. But even a magical mare must need to rest. And Ciri's mysterious issue must be resolved. Come on, it's impossible... '\n\n\"For Ciri,\" the witcher cut him off, \"nothing is impossible.\"\n\n\"But...\"\n\n\"She is no longer the girl you knew,\" Geralt did not let him finish.\n\nDandelion was silent fora longtime.\n\n\"I have a strange feeling...\"\n\n\"Be quiet. Don't say anything. I'm begging you.\"\n\nMay ended. They were approaching the new moon, the moon was just a sliver. They rode towards the mountains visible on the horizon.\n\nIt was atypical post-war landscape. Among the fields rose graves and burial mounds, in the lush spring grass were white skulls and skeletons. On the branches of trees hung corpses and along the road, waiting for the beggars to weaken, sat wolves.\n\nGrass did not grow on the vast stretches of blackness, where past fires had burned.\n\nYet many of the villages and settlements, where only ruins had remained, had started to rebuild. Around them was the sounds of axes and hammers hammering and saws cutting. Near the ruins were women, working the scorched earth with their hoes. Some stumbling, dragged ploughs behind them, the straps cutting into their shoulders." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have a vague feeling, said Dandelion,\"that something is not as it should be. There's something missing... Do you have the same feeling, Geralt?\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Something here is not normal.\"\n\n\"Nothing here is normal, Dandelion. Nothing.\"\n\nIt was a hot night, black, with no wind, lit by only distant flashes of lightning and upset by the rumor of thunder. Geralt and Dandelion camped and watched the horizon to the west\n\nglow red with fires. It was not long until the breeze picked up and brought the smell of smoke. And snippets of sound.\n\nThey heard women crying and the wailing of children and the sound of their murderers howling.\n\nDandelion did not say anything, but kept throwing glances at the witcher. But the witcher did not move, did not even turn his head. His face was like stone.\n\nIn the morning they went on their way. Rising above the forest was a wisp of smoke, which they did not look at.\n\nLater that day they encountered a column of settlers.\n\nThe column moved in along, slow march. They carried small bundles. They were completely silent. Men, boys, women, children. They did not utter a cry or a word of complaint. Not a cry or groan of despair. Their cries and despair were mirrored in their eyes. The empty eyes of aggrieved people. Deprived, battered and expelled.\n\n\"Who are these people?\" Dandelion said, not paying attention to the eyes of the officer who watched over the displaced people. \"Why are they forced to leave?\"\n\n\"Nilfgaardians,\" replied a young lieutenant from his saddle, no older than eighteen. \"Nilfgaardian settlers. They settled on our land like cockroaches. And we are sweeping them away like cockroaches as agreed in the peace treaty of Cintra.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Helping with the plot, keep the story going.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 14" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have a vague feeling, said Dandelion,\"that something is not as it should be. There's something missing... Do you have the same feeling, Geralt?\"\n\n\"Huh?\"\n\n\"Something here is not normal.\"\n\n\"Nothing here is normal, Dandelion. Nothing.\"\n\nIt was a hot night, black, with no wind, lit by only distant flashes of lightning and upset by the rumor of thunder. Geralt and Dandelion camped and watched the horizon to the west\n\nglow red with fires. It was not long until the breeze picked up and brought the smell of smoke. And snippets of sound.\n\nThey heard women crying and the wailing of children and the sound of their murderers howling.\n\nDandelion did not say anything, but kept throwing glances at the witcher. But the witcher did not move, did not even turn his head. His face was like stone.\n\nIn the morning they went on their way. Rising above the forest was a wisp of smoke, which they did not look at.\n\nLater that day they encountered a column of settlers.\n\nThe column moved in along, slow march. They carried small bundles. They were completely silent. Men, boys, women, children. They did not utter a cry or a word of complaint. Not a cry or groan of despair. Their cries and despair were mirrored in their eyes. The empty eyes of aggrieved people. Deprived, battered and expelled.\n\n\"Who are these people?\" Dandelion said, not paying attention to the eyes of the officer who watched over the displaced people. \"Why are they forced to leave?\"\n\n\"Nilfgaardians,\" replied a young lieutenant from his saddle, no older than eighteen. \"Nilfgaardian settlers. They settled on our land like cockroaches. And we are sweeping them away like cockroaches as agreed in the peace treaty of Cintra.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He spat and looked disdainfully at the troubadour and the witcher.\n\n\"And if it was up tome, I'd not let these bugs live. '\n\n\"And if it was up tome,\" said a sergeant with a grey moustache, regarding his youthful companion with disrespect, \"I'd let them work in peace on their farms and lands. I would never expel a good farmer from this country. I would love to see agriculture prosper. So we will not go hungry. '\n\n\"You're areal blockhead, Sergeant, \"the young Lieutenant scolded.\"They are of Nilfgaard! These people do not know our language, our culture or have our blood. For the small joy of having agriculture we would betaking a snake to our breast. We would have traitors ready to attack from behind. Or do you think this peace with the Black Ones will last forever. No, no, they go back to where they came from... Eh, soldier! Thereon goes with a cart! Grab him, quickly! '\n\nThe order was carried out eagerly. With the help of fists, heels and sticks.\n\nDandelion coughed.\n\nThe young officer measured they suspiciously.\n\n\"You are not from Nilfgaard?\"\n\n\"Gods forbid,\" swallowed the troubadour.\n\nMany of the women and children passing in front of them moved like puppets, with empty eyes, swollen faces and bruised bare legs showing through torn skirts. Some had to be supported as they walked. Dandelion looked at Geralt's face and began to panic.\n\n\"It's time to be on our way, \"he muttered.\"Farewell, gentlemen. '\n\nThe young officer did not even turn his head, intrigued by monitoring the refugees." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The column meandered slowly to the south. From somewhere behind them they heard a high, desperate scream from a female.\n\n\"Geralt, no,\" Dandelion whispered. \"Do not interfere, stay out of it...\"\n\nThe witcher turned and looked at the poet as if he did not know him.\n\n\"Meddle in it?\" he shrugged. \"Save someone? Give my life for noble principles and ideals? No, Dandelion, not anymore.\"\n\nOn a restless night, illuminated by lightning, the witcher again awakened from a dream. This time he was not sure if it was one hideous nightmare or if it was a series of nightmares.\n\nAgain, over the remains of the fire alight arose, pulsating and frightening the horses. Again, inside that light appeared a castle, with columns and a table at which sat women.\n\nTwo other women were there, standing calmly. One black and white and the other black and grey.\n\nYennefer and Ciri.\n\nThe witcher moaned in his sleep.\n\nYennefer was right when she did not allow her to wear male clothing. Ciri would have felt foolish dressed as a boy among these elegant ladies. She was glad that she gave into the combination of black and grey, it flattered her and she could fell the approval when they saw the puffy sleeves and clinched waist and the small brooch in the shape of arose.\n\n\"Come closer please.\"\n\nCiri shivered slightly. It was not just the sound of the voice. Yennefer, as it turned out, was right about her neckline. Ciri had insisted thought, and now she had the impression that she could feel a draft on her breast all the way down to her navel, and was covered in goosebumps." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Closer still,\" said the dark-haired and dark-eyed woman whom Ciri remembered from the island of Thanedd. And though Yennefer had taught her all the names of the women she would meet in this castle, Ciri immediately thought of her as Lady Owl.\n\n\"We welcome you,\" Lady Owl said. \"To the Lodge in Montecalvo, Ciri.\"\n\nCiri bowed as instructed by Yennefer, politely, but without lowering her eyes modestly like a maiden.\n\nIt was answered with a sincere smile from Triss Merigold and a nod and a friendly look from Margarita Laux-Antille. The looks from the other women where hard as augers. As the blade of a piercing spear.\n\n\"Sit down,\" Lady owl nodded towards a seat. \"No, not you, Yennefer! Only her. You, Yennefer, are not an invited guest, but are summoned to be tried and punished as a wrongdoer. You'll stand for as long as it takes the Lodge to decide your fate. '\n\nIna twinkling of an eye, Ciri ended protocol.\n\n\"In that case, I will stand also,\" she said in aloud voice. \"I have not come as a guest. I too, was summoned to decide my fate. That's the first thing. The second thing is that Yennefer's fate is linked with mine. We are inextricably linked and that cannot be changed... With all due respect.\"\n\nMargarita Laux-Antille smile and looked her in the eyes. The simple yet elegant, Assire var Anahid, a Nilfgaardian with a slightly aquiline nose, nodded and tapped her fingers gently on the table's surface.\n\n\"Philippa,\" said a woman with a silver fox boa around her neck. \"I think that in this respect we should not go to extremes. At this point it is not necessary. This is the round table of the Lodge, and all who sit at it are equals– even when one of us is on trial. I think that we can agree...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She did not finish, she glanced at all the sorceresses. One by one, they all nodded their heads in agreement– Margarita, Triss, Assire, Sabrina Glevissig, Keira Metz and both elves. Only the second Nilfgaardian, the dark-haired Fringilla Vigo did not give an affirmative nod, she was pale as death as she stared at Yennefer.\n\n\"So be it,\" Philippa Eilhart waved her hand. \"Sit, both of you. But know that I am against it. But the unity of the Lodge and its interests are most important. The Lodge is everything, the rest is nothing. I hope you understand, Ciri?\"\n\n\"Perfectly,\" Ciri said, not looking away from her gaze. \"Especially since I am supposed to be the nothing.\"\n\nThe beautiful queen of the elves, Francesca Findabair laughed.\n\n\"Congratulations, Yennefer,\" she said in her hypnotically deep and melodious voice. \"I noticed you left your mark. This is gold. I recognize the school.\"\n\n\"It's easy to recognize, \"Yennefer looked around with fiery eyes,\"because it is the school of Tissaia de Vries. '\n\n\"Tissaia de Vries is dead,\" Lady Owl said calmly. \"We mourn her, and gladly. Her death, however, was a turning point. Now is anew time and big changes are coming. You, Ciri, you were once Princess Cirilla of Cintra, but fate has now given you a different role. Surely you already know what it is.\"\n\n\"I know,\" said Ciri, not listening to the warning hiss from Yennefer. \"Vilgefortz explained it tome! He was going to stick a glass tube between my legs. If this is to be the fate that awaits me, then thank you very much.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Philippa's dark eyes blazed with frosty fury. But it was Síle de Tansarville that spoke next to Ciri.\n\n\"You still have a lotto learn, girl,\" she said, covering her neck with her silver fox boa. \"Many of the things you have seen and heard you will need to unlearn. Alone or with assistance. You have acquired a lot of bad habits, no doubt because of the evil you have experienced in this world. But this is childish stubbornness, and now you can't see that when someone only has your best interests at heart. You lash out around you with your claws like a wild kitten, so you have given us no choice. We will take you by the neck and treat you like a child, without a second thought. Because we are older, wiser and we know everything about what was, what is and we know a lot about what will be. We will take you by the neck like a child, so one day when you area wise cat, you will sit here at this table, among us. One of us. No! Not a word! Do not dare open your mouth while Síle de Tansarville speaks. '\n\nThe sorceress from Kovir voice was sharp and penetrating as a knife scratching on iron, and hungover the table. Ciri was not the only one to shrink and draw he head down between her shoulders but other magicians of the Lodge as well, with maybe the exception of Philippa, Francesca and Assire. And Yennefer.\n\n\"You are right,\" said Síle, adjusting the boa around her neck again, \"you were called to Montecalvo to meet your fate. But you were not right when you complained that you are nothing. You are everything, you are the world's future. At this point in time, you cannot even understand, because you are just a kitten, a child who sees everyone as Vilgefortz or Emhyr var Emreis. At this point, it is not worth explaining that you are wrong. This is all for your sake and for the sake of the world. There will time for such explanations later. For now, you do not want to hear the voice of reason, and you riposte every argument with a child's stubbornness. So now you'll betaken by the neck. I'm done. Philippa, declare the girl's fate. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You are coming with me,\" Lady Owl said, breaking the heavy silence, \"and Síle to Kovir, to Pont Vanis, the summer capital of the kingdom. As you are no longer Cirilla of Cintra, during the course of the audience you will be presented as an adept of magic, being protected by us. At that audience you will meet a very wise king, Esterad Thyssen. You will meet his wife, the Queen Zuleyka, a person of singular nobility and goodness. You will also meet their son and heir, Prince Tancred.\"\n\nCiri was beginning to understand and rolled her eyes. Lady Owl did not miss that detail.\n\n\"Yes,\" she confirmed. \"First of all you must impress prince Tancred. because you are going to become his lover and give him a child.\"\n\n\"If you were still Cirilla of Cintra,\" Philippa continued after along pause, \"still the daughter of Pavetta and granddaughter of Calanthe, you would become Prince Tancred's legal wife. You'd be the princess and later the queen of Poviss and Kovir. Unfortunately, and I tell you with genuine regret, fate has deprived you of everything. Including your future. You will only be his mistress. His favorite.\"\n\n\"In name,\" interjected Síle, \"and formally. In practice, we will in fact, Endeavour to ensure that you are beside Tancred with the status of princess and later eventually queen. Naturally, we will need your help. Tancred has to want to have you by his side. Day and night. We will show you how to stimulate that desire, but it is up to your to bear the fruit of our teachings.\"\n\n\"All this is not important, at the end of the day,\" said Lady Owl. \"The important thing is that you get pregnant to Tancred as soon as possible.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yeah, sure,\" muttered Ciri.\n\n\"Yours and Tancred's child, \"Philippa watched herewith dark eyes,\"will ensure the future and status of this Lodge. Take note that it will be a great thing. You will be apart of it, because right after the birth you will sit with us at this table. We will teach you. You are one of us, even if you do not want to admit it yet. '\n\n\"On the island of Thanedd,\" Ciri overcame the tightness in her throat, \"you said I was a mindless tool, even a monster, Lady Owl and now you say that I am one of you.\"\n\n\"There is not that much difference,\" the Daisy of the valley said in a ringing voice. \"We, me luned, are all monsters. Each in our own way. Is that not right, Lady Owl?\"\n\nPhilippa shrugged.\n\n\"That ugly scar on your face,\" Síle said indifferently, \"we will magically remove or disguise. You will be a beautiful and mysterious woman, and I guarantee that Tancred Thyssen will go crazy for you. We will have to invent some personal details. Cirilla is a nice name and not so rare, so you can keep it. But you still need a last name. I would not be against it, if you used mine.\"\n\n\"Or mine,\" Lady Owl said covering the smile on the corner of her lips. \"Cirilla Eilhart also sounds nice.\"\n\n\"That name,\" the hall rang with the silvery voice of the elven queen, \"is pretty in any combination. And each of us here would love to have a daughter like you, Zireael, Swallow with the eyes of a hawk. You are the body and the blood of Lara Dorren. Each of us would give everything, even this Lodge and the fate of the kingdoms around the world, to have such a daughter. However, it is impossible. We know that it is impossible. So we envy Yennefer.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Thank you, Lady Philippa,\" Ciri said after a few moments, squeezing the head of the sphinxes in her hands. \"I also feel honored with the proposal to take the surname de Tansarville. However, it seems tome that my new last name is the only thing that I can choose for myself, I thank the two mistresses. But I want to be called Cirilla of Vengerberg, daughter of Yennefer.\"\n\n\"Ha!\" a sorceress flashed her teeth, who Ciri guessed to be Sabrina Glevissig of Kaedwen. \"Tancred Thyssen will be a fool if he does not marry her. If he instead choose another princess, he would be a fool and blind, not to recognize the diamond among the glass beads Yenna, I envy you. And you know how sincere I can be with my envy.\"\n\nYennefer thanked her with a gesture. Without a shadow of a smile.\n\n\"So,\" Philippa said, \"all is taken care of.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Ciri.\n\nFrancesca Findabair snorted quietly. Síle de Tansarville raised her head and her expression hardened.\n\n\"I have to think about it,\" Ciri said. \"Meditate. Put my thoughts in order. Calmly. And when I'm done I will comeback here, to Montecalvo, and come before this Lodge and discuss what has been decided. '\n\nSíle moved her lips, as if she had noticed a bad taste in her mouth and wanted to sit it out immediately. But she remained silent.\n\n\"I have to meet,\" continued Ciri, \"with the witcher Geralt in the city of Rivia. I promised that I would be there and that Yennefer would accompany me. I will fulfill my promise, with or without your consent. Lady Rita, here knows that, when I go to Geralt, i9can always find a hole in the wall.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Margarita Laux-Antille nodded with a smile.\n\n\"I need to talk to Geralt. Say goodbye to him. And tell him the truth. You should know one thing, ladies. When we left castle Stygga, leaving behind their dead and ours, I asked Geralt if it was allover, if we had won, if evil was defeated then good had prevailed. He did not answer, he just smiled a sad smile. I thought it was from fatigue and the sorrow of leaving all his friends buried under the walls. Only now I know what his smile meant. It was a sympathetic smile at the naivety of a child who believed that killing Vilgefortz and Bonhart represented the triumph of good over evil. have to try and convince Geralt that what you ladies want to do with me, differs substantially from what Vilgefortz wanted to do with his glass tube. I'll try and explain to him the differences between castle Montecalvo and castle Stygga, although Vilgefortz thought he was doing was for the good of the world and you ladies also do for the good of the world. I know it is not going to be easy to convince as old wolf like Geralt. Geralt will say that I'm a brat and can easily be fooled into doing noble things. But I have to try. It is important that he understand it, that he accepts it. It is very important. Also for you ladies.\"\n\n\"you did not understand,\" Síle de Tansarville snapped sharply. \"You're still a snotty nosed girl who replaced whining with arrogance. The only thing that gives me some hope is the acumen of your mind. You learn quickly. Believe me, you will soon laugh at the stupid things you have said here. Relative to your trip to Rivia, I express my strong opposition. It is a matter of principle, to prove to you that I, Síle de Tansarville, never talk to the wind. That I can grab the necks of the rebellious. It is for your own good, to learn discipline. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Therefore, let us resolve this issue,\" said Philippa Eilhart, placing her hands on the table. \"Let each of us express our opinion. Should we allow this arrogant maid, Ciri, to travel to Rivia? To meet with the witcher, for whom there is no place in her life? Are we to allow this sentimentality, which we will soon have to rid her of? Síle is against. What about the other ladies?\"\n\n\"I am also against,\" Sabrina Glevissig announced. \"Also as a matter of principle. The girl, I like. I like her arrogance and stubbornness, it is better than flabby softness. I have nothing against her pleading. I have no doubt that she would return-I respect her word. But the girl has dared to threaten. So let her know that threats are no to be tolerated.\"\n\n\"I'm against it, \"said Keira Metz.\"For purely practical reasons. I also like the girl and Geralt delivered me out of the hands of danger on Thanedd. It is a sentiment that I long ago get rid of, but I do not deny that it was pleasant tome. I could repay him this way. But will not. Because you are wrong, Sabrina. This girl is a witcheress and is trying to be smarter than us. In short, she is just trying to getaway. '\n\n\"Does anyone here,\" Yennefer said ominously, dragging her words, \"dare doubt the word of my daughter?\"\n\n\"Be silent, Yennefer,\" Philippa hissed. \"Do not talk, or I'll lose patience. We have two votes against. Let's listen to the others.\"\n\n\"I am in favor of letting her go,\" said Triss Merigold. \"I know her and can vouch for her. I would also, if permitted, accompany heron this trip. To help, if I may, in her meditations and reflections. And with her conversation with Geralt.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I also vote for her,\" Margarita said with a smile." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "'You may wonder at my motivations, ladies, but I do it for Tissaia de Vries. If Tissaia was among us she would not agree that in\n\norder to maintain the unity of the Lodge it is necessary to use coercive methods or restriction of personal freedom. '\n\n\"I vote for her,\" said Francesca Findabair, adjusting the lace at her neckline. \"I have many reasons, but I do not wish to explain them.\"\n\n\"I vote for her,\" said Ida Emean aep Sivney. \"So my heart dictates.\"\n\n\"I'm against it, \"Assire var Anahid said dryly.\"I do not decide out of lack of sympathy, antipathy or principled reasons. I fear for her life. Under the protection of the Lodge, Ciri is safe and on the route to Rivia she will bean easy target. I fear those that stole her identity and even her name, still don't think that it's enough. '\n\n\"We have,\" Sabrina said sarcastically, \"yet to know the opinion of Lady Fringilla Vigo. I guess that it is obvious. We all remember the castle Rhys-Rhun.\"\n\n\"I am grateful for the reminder,\" Fringilla cocked her head proudly. \"I am for Ciri. To prove the admiration and affection I have for the girl. I also do it for the witcher, Geralt of Rivia, without which the girl would not be sitting here today. To save Ciri, he went to the edge of the world and fought everyone trying to prevent him-even himself. It would be shameful to deny him a meeting with his daughter.\"\n\n\"I have not heard here any shameful acts,\" Sabrina said cynically. \"But a lot of naive sentimentality. Just such sentimentality that we want to eradicate from the girl. The results are that the scales have settled in deadlock. We have not decided anything. We need to vote again. I suggest that this time we do it secretly.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Why?\"\n\nAll looked at the one who spoke-at Yennefer.\n\n\"I am still a member of the Lodge,\" said Yennefer. \"I have not been deprived of membership, you have not put anyone else in my place, so I have the right to vote. Certainly I know how I will vote. My vote therefore pushes the scales over and settles the matter.\"\n\n\"Your insolence,\" Sabrina said, lacing her fingers together, loaded with onyx rings, \"borders on bad taste, Yennefer.\"\n\n\"If I was in your place, madam, I would keep a discreet silence,\" Síle added gravely. \"And be fearful of another vote, to deal with you.\"\n\n\"I voted for Ciri,\" Francesca said, \"but you, Yennefer, I have to call to order. You ran away from the Lodge, refusing to cooperate. But you have responsibilities and obligations, debts that you have to repay, the verdict must be made. Otherwise you would not have been allowed to cross the threshold of Montecalvo.\"\n\nYennefer grabbed Ciri, who was dying to getup and scream. Finally, without resistance, Ciri dropped back into her chair in silence. Lady Owl, suddenly rose from her seat, dominating the whole table.\n\n\"Yennefer,\" she proclaimed loudly, \"you are not entitled to a vote, that is clear. But I am. I have heard all the voices present. I guess, I will finally make my vote.\"\n\n\"Who do you vote, Philippa?\" Sabrina frowned.\n\nPhilippa Eilhart looked across the table. She met Ciri's green eyes and stared at them.\n\nThe bottom of the pond was a multicolored mosaic, the colored tiles appeared to move. Sitting on the pong creating shadows were the broad leaves of waterlilies hiding goldfish. The water's surface reflected the dark eyes of a little girl, he longhair floated on the water. The girl had forgotten the whole world, laying on the edge of the pool with her little hands in the water." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She went to try and touch those gold and red fish. The fish approached her fingers and palms, curiously circling around them, but she couldn't catch them. They remained as elusive as light and shadow, as the water itself. The dark-eyed girl fingers clutched emptiness.\n\n\"Philippa!\"\n\nIt was the most beloved voice in the world. And yet she was not a little girl now. Furthermore, she was not looking into the water. The waterlilies, fish and reflection were gone.\n\n\"Philippa!\"\n\n\"Philippa!\" Síle de Tansarville's sharp voice pulled her from her reflections.\"We are waiting. '\n\nThrough the open window cam the cold wind of spring. Philippa Eilhart shuddered. Death, she thought. Death has passed by my side/\n\n\"This Lodge,\" she said at last in a firm voice, \"is to decide the fate of the world. So, this Lodge must reflect the world. Here, equilibrium and wisdom does not always mean cold and selfish, calculation and vileness, and sentimentality is not always naive. On one hand, iron discipline and on the other responsibility, resistance to violence, gentleness and trust. Cool reason... And heart.\"\n\n\"I,\" she said into the silence that reigned after her introduction, \"cast the last vote. I will take into account one more thing. An element that without balancing anything, balances everything.\"\n\nFollowing her gaze, everyone looked at the wall, to a mosaic of many multicolor tiles depicted the snake Uroboros, biting its own tail.\n\n\"That thing,\" she continued, staring with her dark eyes at Ciri, \"is destiny in which I, Philippa Eilhart have only begun to believe in recently, which I have only recently begun to understand. Destiny is not the way to providence or comfortable fatalism. Destiny is hope. I am full of hope that it will become what we want to happen, so I give my vote to Ciri-Child of Destiny, Child of Hope\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the pillared hall of Montecalvo the was silence fora longtime. from outside of the window came the hunting cry from a sea eagle.\n\n\"Lady Yennefer,\" Ciri whispered. \"It means...\"\n\n\"Come, my daughter,\" Yennefer whispered back. \"Geralt is waiting for is and it is along road ahead.\"\n\nGeralt awoke suddenly and sat up. He heard the echoing cry of a sea eagle.\n\nThen the witcher and the sorceress were married at a glorious wedding. They stayed fora longtime and ate honey and drank wine.\n\nThey lived happily ever after, but very briefly. He died of a heart attack. She died soon after, of what the story does not mention. They say that it was with regret and longing, but who would believe in such fairy tales.\n\nFlourens Delannoy\n\nFairytales and Stories\n\nChapter Twelve\n\nIt was the sixth day after the new moon of June when they reach Rivia.\n\nThe emerged from the woods and appeared on the side of a hill. At the foot of the hill, suddenly, without warning, flashed the mirror surface of the lake of Loc Eskalott, which the valley took its name from. In its waters were reflected the shapes of Mahakam massif, fir trees, and the larch-covered hills of Craag Ros. At the lake's peninsula was Castle Rivia, the winter residence of the kings of Lyria and at the southern tip of Loc Eskalott was situated the city.\n\n\"So here we are,\" Dandelion confirm the obvious fact. \"Destiny has brought us here again, the circle has closed. I don't seethe blue and white banner on the castle towers, so Queen Meve must not be present. I don't think that she has forgiven your desertion...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Believe me, Dandelion,\" Geralt interrupted him, guiding his horse down the slope. \"I do not care if she has forgiven me or wont forgive me...\"\n\nNext to the city, near the entrance gate, stood a colorful tent reminiscent of a cake. In front of the tent, on a pole, hung a white shield with a red chevron. Under the raised part of the tent stood a king in full armor and a white tabard the same as the shield. The knight, with a penetrating and challenging look, stared at the women passing by before him with sacks of coal, charcoal, deadwood and barrels of pitch. Upon seeing Geralt and Dandelion approach on horseback, his eyes lit up with hope.\n\n\"The Lady of your heart,\" Geralt thwarted the hopes of the knight with a chilling voice, \"whoever she is, is the most beautiful and virtuous of all women from the Yaruga to the Buina.\"\n\n\"On my honor,\" the knight reluctantly answered. \"You speak the truth, sir.\"\n\nA blond girl in a silver studded, leather jacket vomited in the middle of the street, bent in half, holding the stirrup of a grey mare. Two colleagues of the girl, in identical clothing, with swords on their backs and headbands holding back their hair, vulgarly insulted passerbys with their slurred speech. both were more than drunk, weaving on their feet and clutching to the sides of horses tied to a pole set in front of the inn.\n\n\"Do we really need to go in there?\" asked Dandelion. \"Inside there is bound to be more like them.\"\n\n\"The meeting is arranged here, remember? This is the Cock and Bull inn, which was written on the tablet.\"\n\nThe blond girl again leaned forward in her next spasm of vomiting. The mare snorted and shied, so the girl fell to the ground landing in her own vomit." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What are you staring at, asshole?\" yelled one of the colleagues. \"White hair!\"\n\n\"Geralt,\" whispered Dandelion. \"Please don't do anything stupid. '\n\n\"Don't worry. '\n\nThey tied their horses to the berth at the front of the inn. The young men were ignoring them, busy shouting at a townswoman passing down the road with a child. They did not like what they saw.\n\nThe first thing that drew the eye when they entered the inn was the inscription-CHEF WANTED. The second was the large painting on the wall showing a bearded monster with an axe dripping blood. The sign underneath it read-Mahakam Dwarf-vile traitor.\n\nDandelion lacked no reason to be scared. The only customers in the establishment, apart from some winos who drank with dignity and a couple of prostitutes, were people wearing leather garments and with swords hanging from their backs.\n\nThere were eight of them in total, of both sexes, but they made enough fuss to be eighteen. They constantly shouted insults and blasphemes.\n\n\"I recognize you, gentlemen. I know who you are,\" said the innkeeper. \"I have a message for you. You have to go to the tavern called Wirsing's. '\n\n\"That's good tavern, ' Dandelion rejoiced.\n\n\"Well then, go and take advantage of their establishment,\" the innkeeper said, drying glasses with his apron. \"If you don't like my place, take your business elsewhere. But I tell you that the Elms quarter only dwarves and non-humans inhabit there. '\n\n\"So what?\" Geralt blinked.\n\n\"Well, you probably know this,\" the innkeeper shrugged, \"but the one who left the message for you was a dwarf. If it pleases you t be dealing with such people... that is your business. You, gentlemen, know whose company you prefer.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"We are very picky when it comes to company,\" said Dandelion, nodding his head towards the table with the men and women in leather jackets and headbands holding back their hair." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But it is not kind to point out something under someone's nose. '\n\nThe innkeeper placed a freshly dried glass on the counter and looked at them scowling.\n\n\"You have to be more understanding,\" he said in an emphatic tone. \"The young people need to let off steam. It is well know that young people should let off steam. The war has mistreated them. Their fathers died...\"\n\n\"And their mothers are whoring,\" finished Geralt, his voice as cold as an icy mountain stream. \"I understand. I embody tolerance. At least I try. Come on, Dandelion.\"\n\n\"Go ahead then, with all due respect,\" said the innkeeper without any respect. \"Just don't complain that I didn't warn you. In these times it is easy to get fleeced in the dwarven quarter. Just...\"\n\n\"Just what?\"\n\n\"Just nothing. This is not my thing.\"\n\n\"Come on, Geralt,\" said Dandelion to the witcher, he had started to notice the war orphans, those not completely drunk, eyes begin to glitter with the use of fisstech.\n\n\"Goodbye, innkeeper. Who knows, maybe someday I'll visit your business. When you take down the sign in the entrance. '\n\n\"And which one of the signs does not please you, gentlemen?\" the innkeeper frowned and glared at them. \"Huh? The one with the dwarf?\"\n\n\"No, the one about the chef.\"\n\nThree young people got up from the table, swaying on their feet, evidently with the intention of intercepting them. Two boys and a girl in black leather jackets. With swords on their backs.\n\nGeralt did not slow, he walked towards them, his face and eye were cold and completely indifferent." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The young people at the very last moment, parted and retreated. Dandelion noticed the stench of beer. Sweat. And fear.\n\n\"They have to get used to it,\" the witcher said as they entered the street. \"They have to adapt.\"\n\n\"Sometimes it is difficult.\"\n\n\"This is not an argument, Dandelion.\"\n\nThe air was hot, stick and as thick as soup.\n\nOutside, in front of the inn, two young men in black jackets helped the blond girl wash in the horse trough. The girl, spat, snorted and stammered trying to explain that she felt better and that she needed a drink. That they would definitely go the market stalls for entertainment, but not before a drink.\n\nHer name was Nadia Esposito. The name has been recorded in the annals. And went down in history.\n\nBut Geralt and Dandelion did not know this yet. Nor did the girl.\n\nThe streets of Rivia were alive with a great buzz and what appeared to be locals completely absorbed visiting traders. It seemed that everyone there traded everything, trying to change one thing for something else. From everywhere came the cacophony of sound of products being advertised, fierce haggling and from both sides the sounds of people being accused of fraud, theft, chicanery and other sins which had nothing to do with trade.\n\nBefore coming to the Elms district, Geralt and Dandelion received many intrusting proposals. Offered to them was, among other things-a astrolabes, a tin trumpet and decorative cutlery adorned with the Frangipani family crest, shares in a copper mine, ajar of leeches. a tattered tome entitled The Miracle or Head of Medusa, a pair of breeding ferrets, an elixir to increase potency and even-fora negotiated price-a not too young, not too thin, and not very clean bride." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A black-bearded dwarf with an unprecedented brazenness was trying to convince them to buy a cheap mirror in a frame, which he claim to be one of the magical Cambuscan mirrors. At that momenta stone was thrown which knocked the goods from his hand.\n\n\"Mangy kobold!\" cried the assailant, a dirty, barefoot urchin who was running away. \"Non-human! Bearded Goat!\"\n\n\"I hope your gut rots, human worm!\" roared the dwarf in return. \"I hope it will rot and come out your ass!\"\n\nPeople watched in grim silence.\n\nThe district of the Elms was located on the shore of the lake in a cove where grew alders, weeping willows and of course, elms. Here everything was much quieter and calm, nobody was buying anything and nobody wanted to sell.\n\nFrom the lake a breeze was blowing which was especially nice for the two after escaping the suffocating stench and flies of the market streets.\n\nThey soon found the Wirsing tavern. It was the first on the street and the saw it with ease.\n\nThe porch was covered in climbing roses, and under the roof overgrown with moss, where a swallows nests hung, were two dwarves.\n\n\"Geralt and Dandelion,\" said one of the dwarves belching loudly. \"You, rogues have come as expected.\"\n\nGeralt dismounted.\n\n\"Hail, Yarpen Zigrin. Good to see you, Zoltan Chivay.\"\n\nThey were the only guests in the pub that smelled of garlic, spices and something indescribable, but pleasant. They sat at a heavy table overlooking the lake, which through the glass window next to the table, appeared mysterious, magical and romantic." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Where is Ciri?\" Yarpen Zigrin asked bluntly. \"I hope nothing...\"\n\n\"No,\" Geralt quickly interrupted him, \"she is on her way. You will see her soon. Well, bearded storyteller, tell me what is new.\"\n\n\"What did I tell you?\" Yarpen said sarcastically. \"What did I tell you, Zoltan? He returns from the end of the world, where he, if you believe the rumors, waded through blood, killed dragons and overthrew an empire. And he asks, how we are going. The same witcher.\"\n\n\"What smells so good?\" Dandelion said, sniffing.\n\n\"Lunch,\" Yarpen Zigrin said. \"Meat. Don't ask us, Dandelion, where we came by the meat. '\n\n\"No I'm not asking, because I know the joke. '\n\n\"Don't be a bore. '\n\n\"Where did the meat come from?\"\n\n\"He came alone to find us.\"\n\n\"And now, seriously,\" Yarpen said, wiping his eyes, though the joke was, in fact, very old. \"With regard to the food, we are in a critical situation, as always after a war. The meat is rarely seen, even poultry, fish is difficult to find as well... It is just as bad with flour, potatoes, and legumes... Farms were burned along with their stores, ponds were emptied, and the fields are fallow...\"\n\n\"Production has stagnated,\" added Zoltan. \"There is no transport. The only thing that works is usury and barter. Have you seen the bazaar? The rich alongside the poor, selling and bartering the last remnants of his property and amassed fortunes...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If we get a poor harvest before this winter then people will die of starvation.\"\n\n\"Is it really that bad?\"\n\n\"Coming from the south, you had to pass villages and settlements. Think of in how many you heard the barking of dogs.\"\n\n\"Bloody hell,\" Dandelion slapped his forehead. \"I saw... I told you, Geralt, it was not normal! That something was missing! Ha! Now I realize! I did not hear any dogs! There was no...\"\n\nHe stopped suddenly, looked towards the kitchen where the smell of garlic and spices came from and terror came into his eyes.\n\n\"Don't worry, \"Yarpen grumbled.\"Our meat has never barked, meowed or cried for mercy. Our meat is nothing like that. It is fit fora king! '\n\n\"Confess, dwarf!\"\n\n\"When we received your letter and it was clear that we would see you in Rivia, we were thinking, Zoltan and me, how we could entertain you. We were going round in circles until we felt like pissing. Then we approached the lake shore and saw that it was plagued by snails. Se we took a bag and filled it to the brim with those precious mollusks.\"\n\n\"We missed a few of them,\" nodded Zoltan Chivay. \"But we were very drunk and they were very quick.\"\n\nBoth dwarves again burst out in laughter at the joke.\n\n\"Wirsing,\" Yarpen said pointing to the kitchen, \"can prepare snails well, as you must know that it requires a lot of science. The chef is well renown. Before becoming a widower, he and his woman owned an inn in Maribor, and he cooked so well that even the King himself was a guest there. And now let's drink, I say! '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But first,\" Zoltan said, \"try some of the whitefish, freshly smoked and caught from the lake.\"\n\n\"And we are waiting for you story, gentlemen,\" said Yarpen. \"We are curious to hear what you experienced.\"\n\nThe whitefish was still warm, oily and fragrant. The vodka was cold and her their teeth.\n\nDandelion went first, with his flowery style, colorful language and embellishments on the story full of nonsense and lies. Then the witcher spoke. He told the pure truth, and spoke dry and monotonously. Dandelion could not stand it and interrupted again and again which earned him reprimands from the dwarves.\n\nAnd then the story was over and there was along silence.\n\n\"For the archer Milva!\" Zoltan cleared his throat and raised his cup in a salute. \"For the Nilfgaardian. For Regis the herbalist, who entertained strangers in his hut, with moonshine made from mandrake. And for this Angouleme, with who I am not familiar. Let the earth rest light on them. Let them have there, in the afterlife, everything that they had scarce in this life. And let their names live on long in songs and stories. Let's drink. '\n\n\"Let's drink, ' echoed Dandelion and Yarpen.\n\nLet's drink, thought the witcher.\n\nWirsing, a grey-haired man, pale and skin as a stick, a veritable denial of a stereotypical innkeeper and master of the culinary mysteries, deposited on the table a basket of white fragrant bread and a platter of snails, sizzling in garlic and spices on abed of radish leaves.\n\nDandelion, Geralt and the dwarves dug in quickly. The meal was exquisitely tasty and very funny at the same time, given the need for clumsy forceps and forks." }, { "from": "human", "value": "They ate, smacking their lips, eating the bread and mincing words when referring to every second snail that slipped from the forceps." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Two kittens also enjoyed the meal whenever a snail slipped from the clamps and rolled on the floor.\n\nThe smell coming from the kitchen indicated that Wirsing was preparing another serving.\n\nYarpen Zigrin reluctantly waved his hand, but realized the witcher was not going to give up.\n\n\"For me there has been nothing new,\" he said, spitting out apiece of snail shell. \"I was in the army... Then I was selected as a bailiff. I'll do a career in politics. There is too much competition in business. In politics any fool can hold the purse of a thief. It is easy to standout. '\n\n\"Well, I,\" said Zoltan Chivay, gesturing with a snail, \"am not for politics. I'll go home to my forge, driven by water and steam, accompanied by Figgis Merluzzo and Munro Bruys. You remember Figgis and Munro, witcher? '\n\n\"Not just them.\"\n\n\"Yazon Varda was killed at the Yaruga,\" Zoltan said dryly. \"Quite stupidly, in one of the last battles.\"\n\n\"A pity. And Percival Schuttenbach?\"\n\n\"The gnome? Ah, he's fine. That rogue escaped the recruitment claiming his religion forbids war. And he succeeded, even though everyone knows that the entire pantheon of gods and goddesses would go to war fora pickled herring. He has a jewellery shop in Novigrad. He bought my parrot, Field Marshal Duda, and made the bird a living advertisement. He taught him to say\" Diamonds! Diamonds! ' And it works, go figure. The gnome has clientele\n\nloaded with money. But it is Novigrad! And there is money in the streets. Therefore, we also want to establish a forge in Novigrad. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Those people with scribble with shit on your door,\" Yarpen said. \"Throw stones through your windows. They call you a damned dwarf. It doesn't matter that you area veteran. In Novigrad you'll be nothing more than a pariah.\"\n\n\"I'll go anyway, \"Zoltan said cheerfully.\"There is too much competition in Mahakam. And a lot of politicians. Let's drink for our friends. For Caleb Stratton. For Yazon Varda.\"\n\n\"For Regan Dahlberg,\" Yarpen added, frowning. Geralt shook his head.\n\n\"Regan also...\"\n\n\"Also. In Mayena. The old Dahlberg has been left alone in this world. Ah, hell, enough of this! Let's drink. and hurry up with those snail, because Wirsing is coming over with another pan. '\n\nThe dwarves, with belts unbuckled, listened to Geralt's story of Dandelion's aristocratic romance, that ended on the gallows. The poet seemed offended and did not comment. Zoltan and Yarpen almost spilt apart with laughter.\n\n\"Yes, yes,\" Yarpen said finally, \"in the words of the old song-a man breaks down in tears and the woman smiles. pleased.\" Some distinguish examples of that saying have joined with us around this table today. Look no further than Zoltan Chivay. With all the stories that have been told, he forgot to add that he is getting married. Soon, in September. The lucky woman is called Eudora Breckenriggs. '\n\n\"Breckenriggs!\" Zoltan emphatically corrected, frowning. \"I'm starting to get tired of correcting your pronunciation, Zigrin. Take heed, when I get tired of something I kick it up the ass! '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Where's the wedding?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And when exactly? \"Dandelion said soothingly.\"I ask because we will come. If you invite us, of course. '\n\n\"We have not yet reached a decision on where, when or how, or if we are even getting married,\" muttered Zoltan, visibly confused. \"Yarpen has rushed things. I think Eudora has committed, but who knows what will happen? It is still bad times.\"\n\n\"The second example of a girl's omnipotence, \"continued Yarpen,\"is Geralt of Rivia, the witcher. '\n\nGeralt pretended to be busy with a snail. Yarpen snorted.\n\n\"After miraculously finding his Ciri, he allows her to leave. He leaves her alone again, even though, as someone rightly pointed out here, it is still bad times. All of this happens to the witcher, because a woman wanted it. The witcher always does what this woman wants, a certain Yennefer of Vengerberg. If heat least got something from the sorceress in question... But he gets nothing. The truth. as King Dezmod used to say, looking at the chamber pot after relieving himself'The mind cannot comprehend this.\"\"\n\n\"I suggest,\" said Geralt, picking up a cup with awry smile, \"to drink and change to topic of conversation.\"\n\n\"Right,\" Zoltan and Dandelion said in unison.\n\nWirsing carried a third and forth platter of snails to the table. Not forgetting, of course, the bread and vodka. The diners were beginning to get full, so it was not surprising that the toast were becoming more frequent. Nor was there any wonder that they spoke more philosophy and with increasingly thick speech.\n\n\"The evil we were fighting against,\" insisted the witcher, \"is a manifestation of the action of chaos and their performances aimed to disturb the order. So, when evil spread, the order could not reign, and all that order was building fell apart, and nothing was left standing. The faint glow of wisdom and the timid flame of hope, embers that still retained the heat, rather than flash and then die away. Darkness ensued. And the darkness was filled with fangs, claws and blood.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yarpen Zigrin stroked his beard, smearing grease from the snails through it.\n\n\"You speak well, witcher,\" he admitted. \"But, as young Cerro said to King Vridank on their first date'Does it have any practical uses?\"\"\n\n\"There is no ground for the existence of witchers,\" Geralt did not smile, \"because the struggle of Good and Evil takes place now in an entirely different field of battle in a completely different way. The evil is no longer chaotic. It is no longer a blind force, unbridled, which a witcher has to face, a mutant as deadly as chaotic evil itself. Today Evil is governed bylaws-because the laws serve them. They act in accordance with treaties and have signed for peace, because some treaties allow...\"\n\n\"Settlers to be forcefully expelled,\" Zoltan guessed.\n\n\"And not only that,\" Dandelion added gravely. \"Not only that.\"\n\n\"So what?\" Yarpen Zigrin, sat back and folded his hands on his belly. \"We've all seen something. Everyone has been pissed on. Each lost a dream. That's what happens, it's always been like that and it always will be. We are the lowest, nothing more than these empty shells. What do you dislike, witcher? What is going on? The changes that the world is experiencing? The development? The progress? '\n\n\"Maybe.\"\n\nYarpen was silent fora while, watching the witcher from under his bushy eyebrows.\n\n\"Progress,\" he said at last, \"is like a herd of pigs. So that is the way you see progress, and that is how you judge it. Like a herd of pigs that walk through the courtyard of the farmhouse. The existence of the herd means profit. The pork knuckles. The sausages, the bacon. In short, there area number of advantages! So you shouldn't pout and complain that there is shit everywhere. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Everyone was quiet fora time, weighing his heart and conscience on all matters and important issues.\n\n\"I need a drink,\" Dandelion finally said.\n\nNo one protested.\n\n\"Progress,\" Yarpen Zigrin said into the silence, \"will, in the long run, brighten the darkness. the darkness will give way to the light. But not immediately. And, of course, not without a struggle.\"\n\nGeralt, staring out the window, smiled at his own thoughts and dreams.\n\n\"That darkness you speak of,\" he said, \"is a state of spirit, not matter. To fight something you need to train something quite different than a witcher. It is time to start.\"\n\n\"You will start to retrain? Is that what you were thinking?\"\n\n\"Not at all. this job holds no interest tome. I will go into retirement.\"\n\n\"Is that right!\"\n\n\"I'm serious. no more being a witcher. '\n\nThere was along silence, broken occasionally by the furious meows of the kittens as they scratched at each other in a game.\n\n\"No more being a witcher,\" Yarpen Zigrin repeated. \"Ha! I don't know what to think about that, as old King Dezmod said when caught cheating at cards. But I have a very bad feeling.\n\nDandelion, you have travelled with him and spent a lot of time at his side. Has he shown other symptoms of paranoia? '\n\n\"Okay, okay,\" said Geralt with a stony face. \"No more jokes, as King Dezmod said when all of his guests at a feast began to go livid and croak. I have said all that I had to say. And now down to actions.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He picked up his sword, which was hanging on the back of his chair.\n\n\"Here is your Sihil, Zoltan Chivay. I return it to you with gratitude and recognition. It has been useful. It has helped me. It has saved lives. And taken lives.\"\n\n\"Witcher...\" the dwarf raised his hands in a defensive gesture. \"The sword is yours. I did not lend it to you, I gave it to you. As a gift...\"\n\n\"Hush, Chivay. I give you back your sword. I'll no longer need it. '\n\n\"Quickly,\" Yarpen said. \"Pour vodka into him, Dandelion, because he is talking like an old Schrader when he fell into the mine shaft on his head. Geralt, I know you've a deep temperament and a sensitive soul, but do not talk such crap, as you can see, Yennefer is not here, just us old wolves. Don't tell us old wolves stories of a witcher not needing a sword, the world is not like that. You area witcher and you will need...\"\n\n\"No, I won't, \"Geralt gently denied.\"Perhaps this will surprise you old wolves, but I have come to the conclusion that it is foolish to piss in the wind. That it is foolish to stick my neck out for anyone. Even if that someone pays. An no, this is not an existential philosophy. Believe it, but suddenly, I have taken a tremendous affection for my own skin. I have come to the conclusion that it would be stupid to risk it in defense of others.. '\n\n\"I noticed,\" Dandelion nodded. \"On one hand, it is smart. On the other...\"\n\n\"There is no other.\"\n\n\"Yennefer and Ciri,\" Yarpen asked after a little while, \"have something to do with your decision?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Much.\"\n\n\"Then everything is clear,\" Zoltan sighed. \"I have no clue how a master swordsman will adapt to normal life. But, try as I might, I cannot see you planting cabbages, although I do have respect for your choice... Innkeeper! This sword is a Mahakam Rune Sihil from the Rhundurin forge itself. It was a gift. If the recipient does not want it, then the one who gave it must take it back. Take it and hang it over your fireplace. Rename you inn to, \"The Witcher's Sword\". Then on winter nights we can tell stories about monsters and treasure, of bloody wars and bitter battles. Of death. Of deep love and unwavering friendship. About courage and honor and this sword will hang there, above the listeners and inspire the storyteller. Now pour me a drink, gentlemen, a glass of vodka, because I will continue and will be delivering profound truths and philosophies, including existential ones. '\n\nthey pour vodka into their glasses quietly and with dignity. They looked each other in the eye and drank. With no less dignity. Yarpen Zigrin cleared his throat, looked at his audience to make sure they were sufficiently focused and dignified.\n\n\"Progress,\" he spoke with deliberation, \"will brighten the darkness, because that is what progress does, like, excuse the expression, an ass is for shitting. Each time there will be more light, and we will be less afraid of the dark and the evil that lurks in it. Perhaps the day will come, when we will simply stop believing that something is hidden in the darkness. and we will laugh at that kind of fear. It will seem childish. And will bring shame! But there will always, always be darkness. And evil will always be waiting in the darkness, with its claws, fangs and blood. And witchers will always be necessary.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They satin meditation an silence, deep in thought, so deep that they did not noticed the increasing noise in the city-a sinister and menacing noise like the irritated buzzing of wasps.\n\nThey barely noticed how quiet and empty lakeside boulevard was until one person ran past, then another, then another.\n\nSuddenly, shouting broke out in the city and the door of Wirsing's inn burst wide open and a young dwarf ran into the room. He was red with effort and had difficulty catching his breath.\n\n\"What is it?\" Yarpen Zigrin lifted his head.\n\nThe dwarf, still breathless, pointed in the direction of the town. His eyes were wild.\n\n\"Take a deep breath,\" Zoltan Chivay advised. \"And tell us what's wrong. '\n\nLater it was claimed that the tragic events in Rivia were an unfortunate coincidence that was a spontaneous reaction, a sudden and unpredictable outburst of justified anger induced by the hostility of the dwarves and elves towards the humans of the city. It was argued that it was not the humans, but the dwarves that attacked first, that they provoked the violence. A dwarfish heckler insulted the noble Lady Nadia Esposito, a war orphan and that he used violence against her. Later when the nobles came to the defense of their friend, the dwarf called upon his relatives. A fight ensued, which soon became areal battle that, in the twinkling of an eye, engulfed the whole bazaar.\n\nThe battle degraded into a bloodbath, in a massive attack from the humans against the districts occupied by the non-humans and the district of the Elms. In less than an hour, since the incident at the bazaar to the intervention of the sorceresses, one hundred and seventy people were killed, about half of which were women and children." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This version of events is reflected in the works of Professor Emmerich Gottschalk of Oxenfurt.\n\nBut there are others who argue otherwise. How can this be spontaneous, this unpredictable explosion, that within minutes of there were carts on the streets of the bazaar handing out weapons among the humans? Where did the sudden righteous anger of this mob come from, of who the most visible and active members at the time of the massacre, were people whom nobody new, and who had only come to Rivia a few days before the incident, and they disappeared without a trace? why did the military intervene so late? And why with such distaste?\n\nSome scholars sought to interpret events in Rivia as a Nilfgaardian provocation, and there were others who argued that everything had been hatched by dwarves in league with the elves. Who were killing their own to discredit the humans.\n\nLost among the majority of scientific voices was a theory by a young, bold and eccentric lawyer, who-until he was silenced-claimed that the incident in Rivia was not from secret conspiracies, but ordinary and very common characteristics of the local population-ignorance, xenophobia, violence and profound brutalization.\n\nLater, everyone grew board and stopped talking about the matter altogether.\n\n\"Into the cellar,\" the witcher said grimly, listening to the approaching noise and the roar of the crowd. \"Get into the basement, dwarves! And without your stupid heroism!\"\n\n\"Witcher,\" Zoltan protested, clutching the handle of his axe. \"I cannot... They are killing my brothers...\"\n\n\"Into the cellar. Think about Eudora. Do you want her to be a widow before the wedding?\"\n\nThe argument worked. The dwarves ran to the cellar. Geralt and Dandelion hid the entrance with a rug. Wirsing, usually pale, was as white as buttermilk." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I saw a pogrom in Maribor,\" he stammered, looking at the entrance of the cellar." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If they find them there...\"\n\n\"Go to the kitchen.\"\n\nDandelion was also pale. Geralt was not surprised. Until recently it was a formless and monotonous roar but now they could pick out individual voices. The sound of them lifted the hair on his head.\n\n\"Geralt,\" moaned the poet. \"I have a certain resemblance to an elf...\"\n\n\"Don't be stupid. '\n\nClouds of smoke appeared over the rooftops. A group of dwarves came running through the alleys. Dwarves of both sexes.\n\nTwo of them, without hesitation, jumped into the lake and started swimming, splashing hard and moving for the center of the lake. The rest scattered. Some turned towards the inn.\n\nThe mob poured into the street. They were faster than the dwarves. In their race was the lust for killing.\n\nThe cries of the victims drilled their ears, ringing on the stained glass windows of the premises. Geralt noticed that his hands had begun to tremble.\n\nOne of the dwarves was literally torn to pieces. Another was thrown to the ground and in seconds became a shapeless, bloody mass. A woman was massacred with pitchforks and spears. The child she was protecting was simply trampled, crushed to death beneath their feet.\n\nThree dwarves-a man and two women-ran towards the inn. The roaring crowd raced after them.\n\nGeralt took a deep breath. He stood up. Feeling the terrified eyes of Dandelion and Wirsing, he removed from the shelf above the fireplace, Sihil, the Mahakam sword forged in the foundry of Rhundurin itself.\n\n\"Geralt...\" Dandelion moaned in a heartbreaking tone." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Very well,\" said the witcher, walking towards the exit. \"But this is the last time! Damn me, but it really is the last time!\"\n\nHe went out onto the porch, then jumped off it and cut a hulking man in a masonry smock, then a woman that threatened him with a shovel. He then amputated the hand of a woman who was grasping the hair of one of the dwarves. With two quick diagonal cuts he finished off the men kicking one of the fallen dwarves.\n\nHe waded into the crowd. Quickly moving in semicircles. He slashed wide, seemingly at random-knowing that such swings were more spectacular than violent. He did not want to kill them. He just wanted to wounded them.\n\n\"An elf! An elf!\" someone in the mob shouted as if possessed. \"Kill the elf!\"\n\nWhat nonsense, he thought, Dandelion might look like an elf, but I don't look like an elfin anyway.\n\nHe spotted the person who had shouted, maybe a soldier, for he was wearing uniform and high boots. He advanced through the crowd, dodging like an eel. The soldier was protecting himself with a pike, holding it with both hands. Geralt chopped at the pole, severing fingers. He spun, causing another large cut, screams of pain and a fountain of blood.\n\n\"Mercy!\" A lad said on his knees before him, peering through his disheveled hair. \"Mercy!\"\n\nGeralt spared him, stopping his arm and sword, using the attacking impetus to complete his turn. From the corner of his eye he saw the disheveled young man with a smirk on his face and saw what he was holding in his hands. He changed the direction of his movement," }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "trying to escape. But he was caught in the crowd. And fora split second he was mired in the crowd.\n\nHe could only watch at the pitchfork that was flying towards his body.\n\nThe fire in the huge fireplace went out. A gust of wind from the mountains whistled through the crevices of the walls and screamed through the improperly closed shutters of Kaer Morhen, Home of the Witchers.\n\n\"Damn it!\" Eskel said, standing up and going to the cupboard. \"Seagull of vodka?\"\n\n\"Vodka,\" Geralt and Coën said with one voice.\n\n\"Sure,\" interjected Vesemir, hidden in the shadows, \"Yes, of course! Drown your stupidity in vodka. Damn fools!\"\n\n\"It was an accident...\" muttered Lambert. \"She had already mastered the comb...\"\n\n\"shut your bigmouth, you idiot! I don't want to hear anymore! I warned you, if something happened to that little girl... '\n\n\"Enough,\" Coën interrupted him, softly. \"She sleeps peacefully. Deep and healthy. She will wake up a bit sore, but that's it. About the trance, and what happened, she will not even remember it. '\n\n\"As long as you remember,\" said Vesemir, panting angrily. \"Cabbage heads! Pour for me too, Eskel.\"\n\nThey were silent fora longtime, listening intently to the howling gale.\n\n\"We will need to call someone,\" Eskel finally said. \"We will need to bring a sorcerer here. What is happening to the girl, it is not normal.\"\n\n\"That is her third trance.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But the first time she has spoken clearly.\"\n\n\"Repeat tome again what she said,\" Vesemir said, emptying his cup in one gulp. \"Word for word.\"\n\n\"I cannot repeat it verbatim,\" Geralt said, staring into the embers. \"But the sense of it, if you can make sense of it, was as follows-Coën and I will die. The teeth will be our undoing. We will both be killed by teeth. He two. And me three.\"\n\n\"It is quite likely,\" snorted Lambert. \"that you'll be killed from bites. Teeth can kill any of us at anytime. But you two, if that prophecy is truly prophetic, will be finished off by some very jagged monsters. '\n\n\"Or festering gangrene because of bad teeth,\" Eskel agree, apparently quite serious. \"But we are not missing any teeth.\"\n\n\"I,\" said Vesemir reprovingly, \"would not take the matter lightly.\"\n\nThe witchers were silent. The wind howled through the walls of Kaer Morhen.\n\nThe disheveled lad, as if afraid of what he had done, let goof the pitchfork. The witcher, unable to repress a cry of pain, bent forward, stuck in his belly, the pitchfork unbalanced him and he fell to his knees, and slid onto the pavement. Blood spilled with a murmur and a splash worthy of a waterfall.\n\nGeralt tried to stand. Instead he collapsed on his side.\n\nThe sounds that surrounded him, acquired resonances and echoes, heard as if underwater. His eyes deceived him, with impaired perspective and completely false geometry.\n\nHe saw the crowd disperse. They escaped from those who were coming to his aid. Zoltan and Yarpen with axes, Wirsing with his butcher knife and Dandelion armed with a broom." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He wanted to scream, where are you going? It is not worth pissing in the wind for me. But he could not scream. His voice was stifled by a wave of blood.\n\nIt was noon, when the sorceresses arrived in Rivia, within sight of the shiny surface of Loc Eskalott, the towers of the castle and the red roofs of the city.\n\n\"We're here, \"said Yennefer.\"Rivia. What a curious and entangled destiny. '\n\nCiri was excited and Kelpie kept dancing and shuffling on the edge of the road. Triss Merigold sighed unnoticed. Rather, she believed it had been unnoticed.\n\n\"Please,\" Yennefer looked at he. \"What strange sounds float from you beauteous breast, Triss. Ciri, go out and see what lies ahead.\"\n\nTriss averted her face, determined not to give Yennefer any excuse. She is not expect it to work. Fora longtime she had been sensing Yennefer's anger and aggression growing stronger as they approached Rivia.\n\n\"You, Triss,\" Yennefer mischievously insisted, \"do not blush, do not sigh, do not drool or wiggle around in your saddle. Or is it that you think because I agreed to your request that I want to have you with us? That I was interested in seeing you spend a meeting with an old love? Ciri, I asked you to goon ahead. The two of us need to talk!\"\n\n\"It is not a discussion, it is a lecture,\" Ciri dared to argue, but under the threatening glare from violet eyes, she immediately recoiled, clucked and galloped off on Kelpie on the road ahead.\n\n\"You're not going to meet a loved one, Triss, \"Yennefer continued.\"I am not so noble or stupid enough to give you the opportunity, or him the temptation. But just for today. I could not deny myself the sweet satisfaction. He knows what role you play as a member of the Lodge. He will thank you for that with his famous look. And I'll be looking at your quivering lips and trembling hands, I will listen to your lame apologies and excuses. And you know what, Triss? I will faint with delight.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Collaborating with the writer, advance the narrative.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, arthurian\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Lady of the Lake\nChapter: 14" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He wanted to scream, where are you going? It is not worth pissing in the wind for me. But he could not scream. His voice was stifled by a wave of blood.\n\nIt was noon, when the sorceresses arrived in Rivia, within sight of the shiny surface of Loc Eskalott, the towers of the castle and the red roofs of the city.\n\n\"We're here, \"said Yennefer.\"Rivia. What a curious and entangled destiny. '\n\nCiri was excited and Kelpie kept dancing and shuffling on the edge of the road. Triss Merigold sighed unnoticed. Rather, she believed it had been unnoticed.\n\n\"Please,\" Yennefer looked at he. \"What strange sounds float from you beauteous breast, Triss. Ciri, go out and see what lies ahead.\"\n\nTriss averted her face, determined not to give Yennefer any excuse. She is not expect it to work. Fora longtime she had been sensing Yennefer's anger and aggression growing stronger as they approached Rivia.\n\n\"You, Triss,\" Yennefer mischievously insisted, \"do not blush, do not sigh, do not drool or wiggle around in your saddle. Or is it that you think because I agreed to your request that I want to have you with us? That I was interested in seeing you spend a meeting with an old love? Ciri, I asked you to goon ahead. The two of us need to talk!\"\n\n\"It is not a discussion, it is a lecture,\" Ciri dared to argue, but under the threatening glare from violet eyes, she immediately recoiled, clucked and galloped off on Kelpie on the road ahead.\n\n\"You're not going to meet a loved one, Triss, \"Yennefer continued.\"I am not so noble or stupid enough to give you the opportunity, or him the temptation. But just for today. I could not deny myself the sweet satisfaction. He knows what role you play as a member of the Lodge. He will thank you for that with his famous look. And I'll be looking at your quivering lips and trembling hands, I will listen to your lame apologies and excuses. And you know what, Triss? I will faint with delight.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I knew,\" Triss grunted. \"That you would not forget, that you would take your revenge. I agreed to this, because I was actually at fault. But one thing I must tell you, Yennefer. Do not count too much on fainting. He knows how to forgive.\"\n\n\"He knows what was done to him, of course,\" Yennefer narrowed her eyes. \"But he will never forgive you for what was done to Ciri. And me.\"\n\n\"It is possible,\" Triss swallowed. \"He may not forgive. Especially if you insist. But he won't fly into a rage. He won't lower himself like that.\"\n\nYennefer flicked her horse with her whip in anger. The animal whinnied and leapt and the sorceress swayed in her saddle.\n\n\"Enough talk,\" she snapped. \"more humility, you smug viper! He is my man, mine and only mine! Do you understand? You have to stop talking about him, to stop thinking about him, you have to stop admiring his noble character... As of right now, right now! Oh I want to grab you by your matted red hair...\"\n\n\"Try it!\" screamed Triss. \"Just try it, you vindictive bitch and I'll scratch out your eyes! \"I...\"\n\nThe both fell silent when they saw the cloud of dust as Ciri galloped back towards them. They immediately understood that something was happening. Even before Ciri had reach them.\n\nAbove the thatched roofs and red tiles, suddenly shot out red tongues of flame and belching clouds of smoke. To the sorceresses ears came a sound like the intrusive buzz of flies, or the buzzing of angry bees. Screams grew stronger in counterpoint to the buzzing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What the hell is going on?\" Yennefer stood in her stirrups. \"A raid? Afire?\"\n\n\"Geralt...\" Ciri suddenly groaned, turning as white as paper. \"Geralt!\"\n\n\"Ciri? What is the matter?\"\n\nCiri raised her hand and the sorceresses saw blood running down her palm. Down the lifeline.\n\n\"He has come full circle,\" said the girl, her eyes closed. \"e hurt me with the thorn from Shaerrawedd, the snake Uroboros biting his own tail. I'm coming, Geralt! I'm coming to you! I will not leave you alone!\"\n\nBefore the sorceresses were able to protest, she turned Kelpie and immediately went into a full gallop.\n\nThey had enough presence of mind to immediately kick their horses into a gallop. But their mounts were notable to keep pace with Kelpie.\n\n\"What is it?\" shouted Yennefer, cutting the wind. \"What is going on?\"\n\n\"You know!\" sobbed Triss, galloping at her side. \"Ride, Yennefer!\"\n\nThey had ridden between the city's outskirts before they passed their first fugitives fleeing from the city, Yennefer was bright enough to know what was happening in Rivia, no fire or raid of troops, but a pogrom. She also knew what Ciri had sensed, what-and whom-she was rushing too. She knew that she could not catch her. There was nothing she could do.\n\nFrightened people had compacted into a crowd and she and Triss had to slow their mounts to try and get through. Kelpie just jumped, the hooves of the horse knocking off a few hats and caps.\n\n\"Ciri! Stop!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Before they knew it, they were among the streets crowded with people running and screaming. Yennefer, as she rode, saw bodies lying in gutters and noticed bodies hanging by their legs from posts and beams. She saw a dwarf lying on the ground, pounded by cudgels, she saw another who had been massacred with broken bottlenecks. She heard tormentors shout ad the screams of the tortured. She saw a woman thrown out of a window to the waiting crowd below an then beaten with sticks.\n\nThe crowd thickened, the roar grew. It seemed that the distance between them and Ciri had decreased. The next obstacle was a group of halberdiers, who tried to fence the black mare in before Kelpie jumped over them. One was knocked to the ground and the rest cowered in fright.\n\nThey rushed into a square, which was covered in acrid smoke. Yennefer realized that Ciri, undoubtedly guided by a prophetic vision, was heading to the heat of the incident. Where the fires burned and murder was raging.\n\nIn the next street there was fighting, dwarves and elves were fiercely defending themselves from behind a hastily erected barricade, defending a helpless position, falling and perishing under the pressure of the screaming mob that pounced on them. Ciri screamed and clung to the neck of her mare. Kelpie rose into the air and jumped over the barricade, not like a horse, but lie a huge blackbird.\n\nYennefer rain into the crowd, but pulled her horse up short, knocking over several people. She was pulled from the saddle before she had time to scream. She was beaten on the shoulders, on her back and neck. She fell to her knees, and saw an unshaven man, wearing a cobbler's apron, who was preparing to kick." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yennefer had had enough of being kicked.\n\nFrom her extended fingers shot a bolt of blue flame, which whistled like a whip, burning the face, torso and arms of the people striking her. It started to smell of burning flesh and the screams of pain, raised above the surrounding noise and din.\n\n\"Witch! Elf sorceress!\"\n\nAnother man rushed at her brandishing an axe. Yennefer shot flames into his face, his eyeballs boiled and them burst, running down his cheeks with a hiss. She relaxed, someone grabbed her by the arm, and Yennefer pulled ready to shot, but it was Triss.\n\n\"Let's go... Yenna... Run! '\n\nI've already heard that voice, Yennefer thought. From those lips that look wooded, without a droplet of saliva to wet them. from those lips that is paralyzed with terror and shakes with panic. I've already heard that voice. On the Hill at Sodden.\n\nWhen I was dying in fear.\n\nNow he is dying in fear. Until the end of my days I'm going to be scared to death. Because those who do not break the cowardice, will be scared to death until the end of their days.\n\nThe fingers that Triss dug into her arm were like steel, Yennefer liberated herself from the grip with a great effort.\n\n\"Run if you want!\" she shouted. \"Hide under the skirts of the Lodge! I have to nothing left to defend! I will not leave Ciri alone! Or Geralt! Begone! Get out of my way if you appreciate your skin!\"\n\nThe crowd keeping her away from her horse, retreated before the rays given off by the hands and eyes of the sorceress. Yennefer shook her head, ruffling her black curls. she seem to be fury incarnate, the avenging angel, with her flaming sword." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Return home, scum!\" she cried, leaping at the crowd with a fiery whip. \"Run! Otherwise catch fire like cattle!\"\n\n\"It's just one witch, people! \"A sonorous voice rang from the crowd.\"One cursed elf witch! '\n\n\"She's alone! The other has fled! Hey, bring us the stones! '\n\n\"Death to non-humans! Death to witches!\"\n\n\"To the gallows with her!\"\n\nThe first stone whizzed past her ear. The second hither in the shoulder and rocked her back. The third struck her in the face. Pain exploded behind her eyes, then everything was wrapped in black velvet.\n\nShe came to, and groaned in pain. Both of her forearms and wrists ached like crazy. She mechanically fumbled around and noticed several layers of bandages. She groaned again, without words, desperate. With regret that this was not a dream. And regretting to have not succeeded.\n\n\"It did notwork,\" Tissaia de Vries said, sitting next to the bed.\n\nYennefer wanted a drink, something to wet her sticky lips. But she did not ask. Her pride would not allow it.\n\n\"It did notwork,\" said Tissaia de Vries. \"But not because you did not try. You cut yourself deeply and accurately. Therefore, I am now with you. If you did not mean it seriously, if it was just a ridiculous, bogus exhibition, I have only contempt for you. But you cut yourself deep. Seriously.\"\n\nYennefer numbly stared at the ceiling.\n\n\"I will take care of you, girl I think you are worth it. I'll work with you here. It will not be easy. I have to straighten the spine and flatten the hump. But I also have to treat those hands. When you cut your veins, you severed tendons. And the hands of a sorceress area very important instrument, Yennefer. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Moister on her lips. Water.\n\n\"You'll live, \"said Tissaia factually, seriously, even severe.\"Your time is yet to come. But when it arrives, you'll remember this day.\"\n\nYennefer eagerly suck moisture from a stick wrapped in a wet dressing.\n\n\"I'll take care of you, \"echoed Tissaia de Vries, touching her hair gently.\"And now... We're here alone, without witnesses. Not one is looking at us, and I'm not going to say anything to\n\nanyone. Cry, girl. Pour it all out. Make it your last cry. Starting now you will never cry. There is nothing more pathetic than a sorceress in tears. '\n\nShe came too, coughing and spitting blood. Someone had dragged her across the ground, it was Triss, she was met by the smell of her perfume. Close to them, on the pavement, shod hooves rang, with a vibrated clang. Yennefer saw a rider in full armor, with a white shield with a red chevron, from the height of his saddle he was whipping the crowd. Stones hurled by the mob bounced harmlessly off on the armor and helmet. The horse neighed and kicked out.\n\nYennefer felt that instead of an upper lip, she had a big potato. At least one front tooth was chipped or knocked out and it hurt to talk.\n\n\"Triss...\" she stammered. \"Teleport us out of here!\"\n\n\"No, Yennefer,\" Triss' voice was very quiet and very cold.\n\n\"They'll kill us... '\n\n\"No, Yennefer. I will not runaway. I will not hide under the skirts of the Lodge. And even though it I am ready to faint with fear, like at Sodden, I will get over it!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Near the entrance of the alley, on the ledge of a wall covered with moss, had formed a large pile of manure, debris and trash. It was a colossal heap. A splendid hill.\n\nThe crowd had finally managed to knock the knight from his horse. He was dragged to the ground with a terrible crash and the mob crawled over him like lice.\n\nTriss grabbed Yennefer and dragged her towards the pile of rubbish and raised her hands. She shouted a spell with such rage, that the crowd fell silent fora moment.\n\n\"They will kill us,\" Yennefer spat blood.\n\n\"Help me, Yennefer,\"Triss stopped fora moment. \"help me. Let's cast Alzur's Thunder...\"\n\nThat will kill five, thought Yennefer. Then the rest will tear us apart. But okay, Triss. I will not runaway. You will not see me run.\n\nShe joined in the enchantment. And they shouted in duet.\n\nThe people stared at them blankly, staring, but quickly recovered. They again began throwing stones at the sorceresses. Triss felt one whizz pass her head, but did not flinch.\n\nIt won't work, thought Yennefer. The spell will notwork. We cannot conjure up something as complicated as Alzur's Thunder. It was said that Alzur had a voice like a bell and superior diction. And we are babbling and crying the words and melody...\n\nShe was ready to stop the chant and use her remaining strength to concentrate on some other spell, something to teleport them, or to distract the charging mob-if only fora second-with something unpleasant. But it turned out it was not necessary.\n\nThe sky darkened suddenly with clouds over the city. The shadows spread quickly. And a cold wind rose." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Oh,\" said Yennefer. \"It seems that you did it...\"\n\n\"Merigold's Hailstorm, \"said Nimue.\"Basically, the name is used illegally, since the magic has never been registered, and no one has been able to repeat it. The reason is simple-Triss had an injured mouth and spoke slurred and distorted. Some also claim that fear affected her language. '\n\n\"I do not believe it,\" Condwiramurs pursed her lips. 'In the annals there is no shortage of other examples of courage and heroism from Venerable Triss, some even call her chronically\n\nfearless. But I wanted to ask you about something else. On version of the legend has it that Triss was not alone on Rivia Hill. That Yennefer was also therewith her. '\n\nNimue looked at the watercolor depicting a black mountain, steep and sharp as a knife, against dark blue clouds. At the top of the hill could be seen a slender silhouette of a woman with outstretched arms and red hair.\n\nThrough the fog that covered the surface of the water came the rhythmic clatter of the Fisher King's oars.\n\n\"If anyone was therewith Triss,\" said the Lady of the Lake, \"they did not survive the vision of the artist.\"\n\n\"It seems that you did it,\" said Yennefer. \"Watch out, Triss!\"\n\nFrom the black clouds over the city of Rivia fella barrage of icy hailstones the size of hens eggs. They beat down so hard they broke rooftops. They fell so densely that they covered the streets and squares in a thick layer of ice. The crowd swayed, people fell, covering their heads, hiding under one another and fleeing and falling on the slippery ground, rolling about and crowding the archways under ledges. Not everyone managed to escape, some remained lying on the ice like dead fish, which was heavily dyed with blood." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Hail rattled on the magical shield that Yennefer was able to throw up at the last minute above both sorceresses and threatened to breakthrough. She did not try any other spells. She knew what had been done, could not be stopped, an elemental force had been accidently unleashed and had to reach its climax. Which it would soon reach.\n\nThat was the hope, at least.\n\nLightning flashed and thunder boomed until the surrounding houses were shaken to their foundation. All beat all around with a devastating effect. The sky began to brighten. From a cleft in the clouds appeared sunlight. Triss made a strange cry or sob from her throat.\n\nHail sparkled in the sun like diamonds. They were still falling, but the biggest downpour had abated, Yennefer could tell by the pounding on the magical shield, then the hail stopped. Suddenly, as if cutoff. Guards stormed into the street, the shoes of their horses scraped on the ice. The rabble screamed and fled, whipped by whips and beaten with the flats of swords.\n\n\"Bravo, Triss,\" croaked Yennefer. \"I don't know what that was... But it was effective. '\n\n\"There was something to defend,\" croaked Triss Merigold-heroine of the hill.\n\n\"There always is. We better run, Triss. Because it is probably not over yet.\"\n\nThat was the end. The sorceresses hail that they had launched at the city had cooled the hotheads. So much so that the army dared to intervene and restore order. Until then the soldiers had been afraid. They knew what they were threatened within case of an attack by the feverish crowd with athirst for death and who fears nothing. However, the explosion of the elements tamed the many-headed beast and the army charged and did the rest." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The hail was a terrible disaster for the city." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And so, men who had moments ago tried to kill a dwarf by smashing his head against a wall, now sobbing, looked at what remained of his house.\n\nIn Rivia all was quiet. If it had not been for the two hundred massacred corpses and some burning houses, you might have thought that nothing had happened.\n\nIn the Elms district, next to Loc Eskalott, over which burned a rainbow in the sky, and the weeping willows reflected in the clear mirror of the water, the birds sang again and the grass smelled wet. Everything looked idyllic.\n\nEven the witcher who lay in a pool of blood in which Ciri knelt.\n\nGeralt lay senseless, white as chalk. He lay motionless, but when they reached him, he began to cough, and to spit blood. He began to shake and to tremble so violently that Ciri could not hold him. Yennefer knelt beside him. Triss saw her hands shaking. Suddenly she felt very weak and her vision blurred. Someone grabbed her, preventing her from falling on the ground. She recognized Dandelion.\n\n\"It won't work, \"said Ciri's voice, radiating despair. \"Your magic cannot cure him, Yennefer.\"\n\n\"We arrived...\" Yennefer could barely move her lips. \"We're too late. '\n\n\"Your magic won't work, \"Ciri repeated as if she had not heard.\"Is this what it is worth, all of your magic? '\n\nYou're right, Ciri, Triss thought, feeling something catch in her throat. We can produce hail, but we cannot ward off death. Although apparently the latter is easier.\n\n\"We sent for physician,\" said a dwarf standing next to Dandelion, in a husky voice,. \"but he has not appeared...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"it is too late fora doctor,\" Triss said, surprising herself that her voice sounded so calm. \"He is dying.\"\n\nGeralt continued to stir, coughing blood, then becoming very tense and froze. Dandelion, still holding Triss, sighed in despair, the dwarf cursed. Yennefer moaned, her face changing suddenly, contracted and ugly.\n\n\"There is nothing more pathetic,\" said Ciri sternly, \"than a sorceress in tears. You taught me that. But now you're pathetic Yennefer. You and your magic, which is useless. '\n\nYennefer did not reply. She could barely hold Geralt's head in both of her hands, while repeating a spell. In her hands, the witcher's cheeks and forehead crackled with blue sparks.\n\nTriss know how much energy was required for that spell. She also knew that the spell would not help. She was even more confident that the spell would prove powerless for someone who was sterile. It was too late. The spell only exhausted Yennefer. Triss was surprised that the black-haired sorceress was able to withstand for so long.\n\nThen she ceased to be surprised because Yennefer stopped in the middle of the magic formula and fell on the pavement next to the witcher.\n\nOne of the dwarves swore again, the other bowed his head in silence. Triss Merigold still being propped up sniffed loudly.\n\nSuddenly it got very cold. The surface of the lake boiled like a witch's cauldron and was enveloped in mist. The fog grew rapidly, it swirled over the water and stood on the waves., covering them in a think white milk, that stifled and sounds and made shapes and figures vanish." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I,\" Ciri said slowly, still kneeling on the bloody ground, \"I once gave up my power." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "If I didn't, I could save him now. I could cure him. I know it. But it is too late, I can't do anything. It is like I killed him myself.\"\n\nThe silence was broken by Kelpie's whinny. Then by Dandelion's muffled gasp.\n\nThey were all stunned.\n\nA white unicorn appeared out of the mist, running light, agile and silent, lifting his beautiful head. This was not just anything unusual, they all knew the legend, and the passage\n\nabout the fact that unicorns run lights, agile and silently. What was strange was that the unicorn was running on the surface of the lake, and did not even wrinkle the water.\n\nDandelion gasped, this time in awe. Triss felt overwhelmed by her emotions. Euphoria.\n\nThe unicorn's hooves rang on the stones of the waterfront. He shook his mane and horn and melodically neighed.\n\n\"Ihuarraquax,\" Ciri spoke to him. \"I was hoping you'd come. '\n\nThe unicorn came closer, neighing again and digging his hooves into the hard cobblestones. He lowered his head, the horn which sprang from his head suddenly blazed with light, with a sheen that dispelled the fog.\n\nCiri touched the horn.\n\nTriss gasped loudly when she saw the girl's eyes filled with white heat and her head enveloped in a halo. Ciri did not hear her, did not hear anyone. With one hand she touched the unicorn's horn, with the other she touched the witcher. From her fingers drifted a ribbon of flickering light.\n\nNo one could say how long it lasted. It was unreal." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Like a dream.\n\nThe unicorn snorted, pawed at the ground several times and move his head as if pointing at something. Triss looked. Under a canopy of overhanging willow branches she could discern a dark outline in the mist. A boat sailing on the water.\n\nThe unicorn once more shook its horn and began to disappear in the white fog.\n\n\"Kelpie,\" Ciri said. \"Go with him.\"\n\nKelpie snorted. She shook her head. Then obediently walked behind the unicorn. Her shoes made an echoing sound on the cobblestones. Then the sound abruptly stopped, as if the mare had taken flight, disappeared or dematerialized.\n\nThe boat was on the shore, a few moments after the fog dissolved, Triss saw it clearly. It was a tatty old barge, formless as a trough in a barn.\n\n\"Help me,\" Ciri said, firmly and decisively.\n\nAt first no one knew what the girl wanted help with. The poet was the first to understand. Perhaps because he knew the legend that he frequently lectured on and sang its verses. In his arms he picked up Yennefer. He marveled at how small and light she was. He would have sworn that someone helped him lift her. He would have sworn that he felt Cahir's arms helping. That he caught a glimpse of Milva's braid. He would have sworn that when he took the sorceress to the boat, he saw Angouleme's little had holding it steady.\n\nThe dwarves picked up the witcher, Triss helped them, holding his head. Yarpen Zigrin blinked fora second, because he saw the two Dahlberg brothers. Zoltan Chivay would have sworn that Caleb Stratton help him lift the witcher into the boat. Triss Merigold was sure that she could smell the perfume of Lytta Neyd called Coral and in a haze of yellow-green her eyes saw Coën of Kaer Morhen." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "These tricks were brought to their minds by the dense fog around Loc Eskalott.\n\n\"Ready, Ciri,\" the sorceress said dully. \"You boat is waiting.\"\n\nCiri brushed the hair from her forehead and sniffed.\n\n\"Apologize to the ladies at Montecalvo, Triss,\" she said. \"But it can be no other way. I cannot stay if Geralt and Yennefer leave. I simple cannot. They must understand.\"\n\n\"They must.\"\n\n\"Goodbye, Triss Merigold. Take care, Dandelion. Take care all.\"\n\n\"Ciri,\" Triss whispered. \"Little sister... Let me sail with you...\"\n\n\"You do not know what you ask, Triss.\"\n\n\"Will I ever see you...\"\n\n\"Definitely,\" she interrupted.\n\nShe climbed aboard the boat, which rocked and immediately began to move away from the shore. It disappeared into the fog. Those on the shore did not hear the slightest splash and there was no movement in the water. It was as if it had disappeared, like a ghost.\n\nFora brief moment they saw the small silhouette of Ciri, they saw her sitting at the bottom of the boat as it accelerated swiftly.\n\nAnd then there was only fog.\n\nShe lied, thought Triss. I will never see her again. I won't see her, because... Vaesse deireádh aep eigean. Something ends.\n\n\"Something ends,\" said Dandelion.\n\n\"Something begins,\" Yarpen Zigrin finished.\n\nFrom somewhere on the other side of the lake a cock crowed loudly.\n\nThe fog began to rapidly lift." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt opened his eyes irritated by the play of light and shadow through his closed eyelids. He saw above him leaves, a kaleidoscope of leaves glistening in the sun. He also saw branches full of apples.\n\nHe felt the delicate touch of fingers on his temple and his cheek. Fingers he knew. He loved her so much that it hurt. His stomach, chest and ribs aches, and a corset of tight bandages convinced him completely that the pitchfork in the city of Rivia had not been a nightmare.\n\n\"Lay quietly, my love,\" said Yennefer. \"Lay quietly. Do not move.\"\n\n\"Where are we, Yen?\"\n\n\"Does it matter? We are together. you and me.\"\n\nThe birds sang. It smelled of herbs, rosemary flowers and apples.\n\n\"Where is Ciri?\"\n\n\"She is gone.\"\n\nShe shifted and gently freed her arm from under his head, and lay beside him on the grass so that she could look into his eyes. She looked eagerly, as if she would memorize his image, as if to save it for the future, for all eternity. He also looked at her as nostalgia gripped his throat.\n\n\"We were in a boat with Ciri,\" Geralt recalled. \"On a lake. the on a river with a strong current. Among the fog.\"\n\nHe fingers found his hand and squeezed hard.\n\n\"Lay still, my love. Lay still. I'm with you. It does not matter what happened, it does not matter where we were. Now I'm with you. I will never leave you. Never.\"\n\n\"I love you, Yen.\"\n\n\"I know.\"\n\n\"Nevertheless,\" he sighed. \"I'd like to know where we are. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Me too,\" Yennefer said, quietly, after awhile.\n\n\"And that,\" Galahad asked, \"is the end of the story?\"\n\n\"Certainly not,\" said Ciri, rubbing one foot against the other, trying to get rid f the sand sticking to her feet. \"You want it to end? I do not!\"\n\n\"So what happened next?\"\n\n\"The normal,\" she snorted. \"They got married.\"\n\n\"Tell me.\"\n\n\"What's to tell? The celebrate with a big wedding. They invited everyone-Dandelion, Mother Nenneke, Iola and Eurneid, Yarpen Zigrin, Vesemir, Eskel... Coën, Milva, Angouleme... And Mistle. I was there too, and we were drinking wine and mead. And they, Yennefer and Geralt, built a house and the live there happily ever after. Like in a fairytale. Do you understand? '\n\n\"Why are you crying, Lady of the Lake?\"\n\n\"I'm not crying, the tears in my eyes are from the wind! '\n\nThere was along silence and they watched the sun go down over the mountain peaks.\n\n\"Upon my soul,\" Galahad said after awhile. \"It was a unheard of story. Strange is the world from which you came, Lady Ciri.\"\n\nShe sniffed loudly.\n\n\"Yes,\" continued Galahad, clearing his throat a few times, somewhat depressed by the silence. \"But herein our lands, adventure occurs, worthy of wonder. Take for example what happen with Lord Gawain and the Green Knight... Or my uncle Bors and Tristan... Listen then, Lady Ciri. Lord Bors and Lord Tristan were riding to the west, towards Tintagel. Their path led them through a wild and threatening forest. They continued to ride and keep a careful watch. Then there appeared a white deer and next to it a lady, dressed all in black, as black as anything you have seen in your nightmares. And that lady was beautiful, more beautiful than any lady in the world, well not Lady Guinevere... The knights saw the lady standing next to the deer and waved and she told them this...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Galahad.\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Be quiet.\"\n\nHe coughed, and fell silent. Both were silent staring at the sun. they stayed that way fora longtime.\n\n\"Lady of the Lake?\"\n\n\"I asked you not to call me that.\"\n\n\"Lady Ciri?\"\n\n\"Go ahead.\"\n\n\"Come with me to Camelot, Lady Ciri. You have to meet King Arthur, he will show you honor and reverence... I will... I will always love and worship...\"\n\n\"Get up! Or not. While you are kneeling you can rub my feet. they are hurting me terribly. Thank you. you are very kind. I said my feet! Feet end at the ankles.\"\n\n\"Lady Ciri?\"\n\n\"I'm still here. '\n\n\"The sun is about to set...\"\n\n\"That's the truth, \"Ciri bent down and buckled her shoes, then stood up.\"We'll saddle the horses, Galahad. Is there somewhere around here where we can spend the night? Ha! From your look I can see you know this land about as well as me. But no matter, let us set out, whether to sleep in the open or in the woods. Let's not let twilight catch us near the lake. The night will be very cold here... What are you looking at? '\n\n\"Oh,\" she said seeing the young man blush. \"You're smiling at the thought of spending the night in a carpet of moss bed under a hazel bush? In the arms of a fairy? Listen well, young man, I do not have the slightest desire... '\n\nShe paused, looking at his blush and sparkling eyes. Seeing something there, in his face, which was not really ugly. Something squeezed her stomach and gut, and it was not hunger." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Something is happening tome, she though." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What's wrong with me?\n\n\"Do not bother!\" she almost cried. \"Let's saddle the horses! '\n\nWhen they were in the saddle, she looked at him and laughed out loud. He looked at her, his eyes filled with amazement and questions.\n\n\"Nothing, nothing,\" she said easily. \"It was just something I was thinking. Led the way, Galahad.\"\n\nCarpet of moss, she thought, holding back a chuckle. A hazel bush. And me in the role of a fairy. Well, well.\n\n\"Lady Ciri...\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Will you come with me to Camelot?\"\n\nShe held out her hand. He held out his hand. Holding hands, they rode side by side.\n\nThe devil, she thought, why not? I bet any money that this world has jobs fora witcheress.\n\n\"Lady Ciri?\"\n\n\"Let's not talk about it now. Let's ride.\"\n\nThey rode off towards the sunset. Behind them they left a darkening valley. Behind them was a lake, and enchanted lake, a lake blue and smooth as a polished sapphire. Behind them were left the boulders littering the shore. And pine trees on the slope.\n\nThat was left behind them.\n\nAnd everything else was in front of them." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Proceed with the plot in your role as storytelling partner.\nTags: fantasy, chronicle of narnia, end times\nAuthor: C.S. Lewis\nTitle: The Last Battle\nChapter: 14" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Serve him right!\" said Eustace. \"All the same, I hope he'll disagree with Tash too.\"\n\n\"And after that,\" said Edmund, \"came about a dozen Dwarfs: and then Jill, and Eustace, and last of all yourself.\"\n\n\"I hope Tash ate the Dwarfs too,\" said Eustace. \"Little swine.\"\n\n\"No, he didn't,\" said Lucy. \"And don't be horrid. They're still here. In fact you can see them from here. And I've tried and tried to make friends with them but it's no use.\"\n\n\"Friends with them!\" cried Eustace. \"If you knew how those Dwarfs have been behaving!\"\n\n\"Oh stop it, Eustace,\" said Lucy. \"Do come and see them. King Tirian, perhaps you could do something with them.\"\n\n\"I can feel no great love for Dwarfs today,\" said Tirian. \"Yet at your asking, Lady, I would do a greater thing than this.\"\n\nLucy led the way and soon they could all seethe Dwarfs. They had a very odd look. They weren't strolling about or enjoying themselves (although the cords with which they had been tied seemed to have vanished) nor were they lying down and having a rest. They were sitting very close together in a little circle facing one another. They never looked round or took any notice of the humans till Lucy and Tirian were almost near enough to touch them. Then the Dwarfs all cocked their heads as if they couldn't see anyone but were listening hard and trying to guess by the sound what was happening.\n\n\"Lookout!\" said one of them in a surly voice. \"Mind where you're going. Don't walk into our faces!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"All right!\" said Eustace indignantly. \"We're not blind. We've got eyes in our heads.\"\n\n\"They must be darn good ones if you can see inhere,\" said the same Dwarf whose name was Diggle.\n\n\"In where?\" asked Edmund.\n\n\"Why you bone-head, inhere of course,\" said Diggle. \"In this pitch-black, poky, smelly little hole of a stable.\"\n\n\"Are you blind?\" said Tirian.\n\n\"Ain't we all blind in the dark!\" said Diggle.\n\n\"But it isn't dark, you poor stupid Dwarfs,\" said Lucy. \"Can't you see? Lookup! Look round! Can't you seethe sky and the trees and the flowers? Can't you see me?\"\n\n\"How in the name of all Humbug can I see what ain't there? And how can I see you anymore than you can see me in this pitch darkness?\"\n\n\"But I can see you,\" said Lucy. \"I'll prove I can see you. You've got a pipe in your mouth.\"\n\n\"Anyone that knows the smell of baccy could tell that,\" said Diggle.\n\n\"Oh the poor things! This is dreadful,\" said Lucy. Then she had an idea. She stooped and picked some wild violets. \"Listen, Dwarf,\" she said. \"Even if your eyes are wrong, perhaps your nose is all right: can you smell that?\" She leaned across and held the fresh, damp flowers to Diggle's ugly nose. But she had to jump back quickly in order to avoid a blow from his hard little fist.\n\n\"None of that!\" he shouted. \"How dare you! What do you mean by shoving a lot of filthy stable-litter in my face? There was a thistle in it too. It's like your sauce! And who are you, anyway?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Earth-man,\" said Tirian, \"she is the Queen Lucy, sent hither by Aslan out of the deep past. And it is for her sake alone that I, Tirian your lawful King, do not cut all your heads from your shoulders, proved and twice-proved traitors that you are.\"\n\n\"Well if that doesn't beat everything!\" exclaimed Diggle. \"How can you goon talking all that rot? Your wonderful Lion didn't come and help you, did he? Thought not. And now-even now-when you've been beaten and shoved into this black hole, just the same as the rest of us, you're still at your old game. Starting anew lie! Trying to make us believe we're none of us shut up, and it ain't dark, and heaven knows what.\"\n\n\"There is no black hole, save in your own fancy, fool,\" cried Tirian. \"Come out of it.\" And, leaning forward, he caught Diggle by the belt and the hood and swung him right out of the circle of Dwarfs. But the moment Tirian put him down, Diggle darted back to his place among the others, rubbing his nose and howling:\n\n\"Ow! Ow! What d'you do that for! Banging my face against the wall. You've nearly broken my nose.\"\n\n\"Oh dear!\" said Lucy. \"What are we to do for them?\"\n\n\"Let \"em alone,\" said Eustace: but as he spoke the earth trembled. The sweet air grew suddenly sweeter. A brightness flashed behind them. All turned. Tirian turned last because he was afraid. There stood his heart's desire, huge and real, the golden Lion, Aslan himself, and already the others were kneeling in a circle round his forepaws and burying their hands and faces in his mane as he stooped his great head to touch them with his tongue. Then he fixed his eyes upon Tirian, and Tirian came near, trembling, and flung, himself at the Lion's feet, and the Lion kissed him and said, \"Well done, last of the Kings of Narnia who stood firm at the darkest hour.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Aslan,\" said Lucy through her tears, \"could you-will you-do something for these poor Dwarfs?\"\n\n\"Dearest,\" said Aslan, \"I will show you both what I can, and what I cannot, do.\" He came close to the Dwarfs and gave a low growl: low, but it set all the air shaking. But the Dwarfs said to one another, \"Hear that? That's the gang at the other end of the stable. Trying to frighten us. They do it with a machine of some kind. Don't take any notice. They won't take us in again!\"\n\nAslan raised his head and shook his mane. Instantly a glorious feast appeared on the Dwarfs'knees: pies and tongues and pigeons and trifles and ices, and each Dwarf had a goblet of good wine in his right hand. But it wasn't much use. They began eating and drinking greedily enough, but it was clear that they couldn't taste it properly. They thought they were eating and drinking only the sort of things you might find in a stable. One said he was trying to eat hay and another said he had got a bit of an old turnip and a third said he'd found a raw cabbage leaf. And they raised golden goblets of rich red wine to their lips and said'Ugh! Fancy drinking dirty water out of a trough that a donkey's been at! Never thought we'd come to this.\" But very soon every Dwarf began suspecting that every other Dwarf had found something nicer than he had, and they started grabbing and snatching, and went onto quarreling, till in a few minutes there was a free fight and all the good food was smeared on their faces and clothes or trodden underfoot. But when at last they sat down to nurse their black eyes and their bleeding noses, they all said:" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well, at any rate there's no Humbug here. We haven't let anyone take us in. The Dwarfs are for the Dwarfs.\"\n\n\"You see,\" said Aslan. \"They will not let us help them. They have chosen cunning instead of belief. Their prison is only in their own minds, yet they are in that prison; and so afraid of being taken in that they cannot betaken out. But come, children. I have other work to do.\"\n\nHe went to the Door and they all followed him. He raised his head and roared, \"Now it is time!\" then louder, \"Time!\"; then so loud that it could have shaken the stars, \"TIME.\" The Door flew open." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "THEY ALL STOOD BESIDE ASLAN, ON HIS right side, and looked through the open doorway.\n\nThe bonfire had gone out. On the earth all was blackness: in fact you. could not have told that you were looking into a wood if you had not seen where the dark shapes of the trees ended and the stars began. But when Aslan had roared yet again, out on their left they saw another black shape. That is, they saw another patch where there were no stars: and the patch rose up higher and higher and became the shape of a man, the hugest of all giants. They all knew Narnia well enough to workout where he must be standing. He must be on the high moorlands that stretch away to the North beyond the River Shribble. Then Jill and Eustace remembered how once long ago, in the deep caves beneath those moors, they had seen a great giant asleep and been told that his name was Father Time, and that he would wake on the day the world ended.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Aslan, though they had not spoken. \"While he lay dreaming his name was Time. Now that he is awake he will have anew one.\"\n\nThen the great giant raised a horn to his mouth. They could see this by the change of the black shape he made against the stars. After that-quite a bit later, because sound travels so slowly-they heard the sound of the horn: high and terrible, yet of a strange, deadly beauty.\n\nImmediately the sky became full of shooting stars. Even one shooting star is a fine thing to see; but these were dozens, and then scores, and then hundreds, till it was like silver rain: and it went on and on. And when it had gone on for some while, one or two of them began to think that there was another dark shape against the sky as well as the giant's. It was in a different place, right overhead, up in the very roof of the sky as you might call it. \"Perhaps it is a cloud,\" thought Edmund. At any rate, there were no stars there: just blackness. But all around, the downpour of stars went on. And then the starless patch began to grow, spreading further and further out from the center of the sky. And presently a quarter of the whole sky was black, and then a half, and at last the rain of shooting stars was going on only lowdown near the horizon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With a thrill of wonder (and there was some terror in it too) they all suddenly realized what was happening. The spreading blackness was not a cloud at all: it was simply emptiness. The black part of the sky was the part in which there were no stars left. All the stars were falling: Aslan had called them home.\n\nThe last few seconds before the rain of stars had quite ended were very exciting. Stars began falling all round them. But stars in that world are not the great flaming globes they are in ours. They are people (Edmund and Lucy had once met one). So now they found showers of glittering people, all with longhair like burning silver and spears like white-hot metal, rushing down to them out of the black air, swifter than falling stones. They made a hissing noise as they landed and burnt the grass. And all these stars glided past them and stood somewhere behind, a little to the right.\n\nThis was a great advantage, because otherwise, now that there were no stars in the sky, everything would have been completely dark and you could have seen nothing. As it was, the crowd of stars behind them cast a fierce, white light over their shoulders. They could see mile upon mile of Narnian woods spread out before them, looking as if they were floodlit. Every bush and almost every blade of grass had its black shadow behind it. The edge of every leaf stood out so sharp that you'd think you could cut your finger on it.\n\nOn the grass before them lay their own shadows. But the great thing was Aslan's shadow. It streamed away to their left, enormous and very terrible. And all this was under a sky that would now be starless forever.\n\nThe light from behind them (and a little to their right) was so strong that it lit up even the slopes of the Northern Moors. Something was moving there. Enormous animals were crawling and sliding down into Narnia: great dragons and giant lizards and featherless birds with wings like bats' wings. They disappeared into the woods and fora few minutes there was silence. Then there came-at first from very far off-sounds of wailing and then, from every direction, a rustling and a pattering and a sound of wings. It came nearer and nearer. Soon one could distinguish the scamper of little feet from the padding of big paws, and the clack-clack of light little hoofs from the thunder of great ones. And then one could see thousands of pairs of eyes gleaming. And at last, out of the shadow of the trees, racing up the hill for dear life, by thousands and by millions, came all kinds of creatures-Talking Beasts, Dwarfs, Satyrs, Fauns, Giants, Calormenes, men from Archenland, Monopods, and strange unearthly things from the remote islands or the unknown Western lands. And all these ran up to the doorway where Aslan stood." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This part of the adventure was the only one which seemed rather like a dream at the time and rather hard to remember properly afterward. Especially, one couldn't say how long it had taken. Sometimes it seemed to have lasted only a few minutes, but at others it felt as if it might have gone on for years. Obviously, unless either the Door had grown very much larger or the creatures had suddenly grown as small as gnats, a crowd like that couldn't ever have tried to get through it. But no one thought about that sort of thing at the time.\n\nThe creatures came rushing on, their eyes brighter and brighter as they drew nearer and nearer to the standing Stars. But as they came right up to Aslan one or other of two things happened to each of them. They all looked straight in his face, I don't think they had any choice about that. And when some looked, the expression of their faces changed terribly-it was fear and hatred: except that, on the faces of Talking Beasts, the fear and hatred lasted only fora fraction of a second. You could see that they suddenly ceased to be Talking Beasts. They were just ordinary animals. And all the creatures who looked at Aslan in that way swerved to their right, his left, and disappeared into his huge black shadow, which (as you have heard) streamed away to the left of the doorway. The children never saw them again. I don't know what became of them. But the others looked in the face of Aslan and loved him, though some of them were very frightened at the same time. And all these came in at the Door, in on Aslan's right. There were some queer specimens among them. Eustace even recognized one of those very Dwarfs who had helped to shoot the Horses. But he had no time to wonder about that sort of thing (and anyway it was no business of his) fora great joy put everything else out of his head. Among the happy creatures who now came crowding round Tirian and his friends were all those whom they had thought dead. There was Roonwit the Centaur and Jewel the Unicorn and the good Boar and the good Bear, and Farsight the Eagle, and the dear Dogs and the Horses, and Poggin the Dwarf." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Further in and higher up!\" cried Roonwit and thundered away in a gallop to the West. And though they did not understand him, the words somehow set them tingling allover. The Boar grunted at them cheerfully. The Bear was just going to mutter that he still didn't understand, when he caught sight of the fruit-trees behind them. He waddled to those trees as fast as he could and there, no doubt, found something he understood very well. But the Dogs remained, wagging their tails, and Poggin remained, shaking hands with everyone and grinning allover his honest face. And Jewel leaned his snowy whitehead over the King's shoulder and the King whispered in Jewel's ear. Then everyone turned his attention again to what could be seen through the Doorway.\n\nThe Dragons and Giant Lizards now had Narnia to themselves. They went to and fro tearing up the trees by the roots and crunching them up as if they were sticks of rhubarb. Minute by minute the forests disappeared. The whole country became bare and you could see all sorts of things about its shape-all the little humps and hollows-which you had never noticed before. The grass died. Soon Tirian found that he was looking at a world of bare rock and earth. You could hardly believe that anything had ever lived there. The monsters themselves grew old and lay down and died. Their flesh shriveled up and the bones appeared: soon they were only huge skeletons that lay here and thereon the dead rock, looking as if they had died thousands of years ago. Fora longtime everything was still.\n\nAt last something white-along, level line of whiteness that gleamed in the light of the standing stars-came moving toward them from the Eastern end of the world. A widespread noise broke the silence: first a murmur then a rumble, then a roar. And now they could see what it was that was coming, and how fast it came. It was a foaming wall of water. The sea was rising. In that tree-less world you could see it very well. You could see all the rivers getting wider and the lakes getting larger, and separate lakes joining into one, and valleys turning into new lakes, and hills turning into islands, and then those islands vanishing. And the high moors to their left and the higher mountains to their right crumbled and slipped down with a roar and a splash into the mounting water; and the water came swirling up to the very threshold of the Doorway (but never passed it) so that the foam splashed about Aslan's forefeet. All now was level water from where they stood to where the waters met the sky." }, { "from": "human", "value": "And out there it began to grow light." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A streak of dreary and disastrous dawn spread along the horizon, and widened and grew brighter, till in the end they hardly noticed the light of the stars who stood behind them. At last the sun came up. When it did, the Lord Digory and the Lady Polly looked atone another and gave a little nod: those two, in a different world, had once seen a dying sun, and so they knew at once that this sun also was dying. It was three times-twenty times-as big as it ought to be, and very dark red. As its rays fell upon the great Time-giant, he turned red too: and in the reflection of that sun the whole waste of shoreless waters looked like blood.\n\nThen the Moon came up, quite in her wrong position, very close to the sun, and she also looked red. And at the sight of her the sun began shooting out great flames, like whiskers or snakes of crimson fire, toward her. It is as if he were an octopus trying to draw her to himself in his tentacles. And perhaps he did draw her. At any rate she came to him, slowly at first, but then more and more quickly, till at last his long flames licked round her and the two ran together and became one huge ball like a burning coal. Great lumps of fire came dropping out of it into the sea and clouds of steam rose up.\n\nThen Aslan said, \"Now make an end.\" The giant threw his horn into the sea. Then he stretched out one arm-very black it looked, and thousands of miles long-across the sky till his hand reached the Sun. He took the Sun and squeezed it in his hand as you would squeeze an orange. And instantly there was total darkness.\n\nEveryone except Aslan jumped back from the ice-cold air which now blew through the Doorway. Its edges were already covered with icicles." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Peter, High King of Narnia,\" said Aslan. \"Shut the Door.\"\n\nPeter, shivering with cold, leaned out into the darkness and pulled the Door to. It scraped over ice as he pulled it. Then, rather clumsily (for even in that moment his hands had gone numb and blue) he took out a golden key and locked it.\n\nThey had seen strange things enough through that Doorway. But it was stranger than any of them to look round and find themselves in warm daylight, the blue sky above them, flowers at their feet, and laughter in Aslan's eyes.\n\nHe turned swiftly round, crouched lower, lashed himself with his tail and shot away like a golden arrow.\n\n\"Come further in! Come further up!\" he shouted over his shoulder. But who could keep up with him at that pace? They set out walking Westward to follow him.\n\n\"So,\" said Peter, \"night falls on Narnia. What, Lucy! You're not crying? With Aslan ahead, and all of us here\"?\n\n\"Don't try to stop me, Peter,\" said Lucy, \"I am sure Aslan would not. I am sure it is not wrong to mourn for Narnia. Think of all that lies dead and frozen behind that door.\"\n\n\"Yes and I did hope,\" said Jill, \"that it might goon forever. I knew our world couldn't. I did think Narnia might.\"\n\n\"I saw it begin,\" said the Lord Digory. \"I did not think I would live to see it die.\"\n\n\"Sirs,\" said Tirian. \"The ladies do well to weep. See, I do so myself. I have seen my mother's death. What world but Narnia have I ever known? It were no virtue, but great discourtesy, if we did not mourn.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "They walked away from the Door and away from the Dwarfs who still sat crowded together in their imaginary stable." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And as they went they talked to one another about old wars and old peace and ancient Kings and all the glories of Narnia.\n\nThe Dogs were still with them. They joined in the conversation but not very much because they were too busy racing on ahead and racing back and rushing off to sniff at smells in the grass till they made themselves sneeze. Suddenly they picked up ascent which seemed to excite them very much. They all started arguing about it-\"Yes it is-No it isn't-That's just what I said-anyone can smell what that is-Take your great nose out of the way and let someone else smell.\"\n\n\"What is it, cousins?\" said Peter.\n\n\"A Calormene, Sire,\" said several Dogs at once.\n\n\"Lead onto him, then,\" said Peter. \"Whether he meets us in peace or war, he shall be welcome.\"\n\nThe Dogs darted on ahead and came back a moment later, running as if their lives depended on it, and barking loudly to say that it really was a Calormene. (Talking Dogs, just like the common ones, behave as if they thought whatever they are doing at the moment immensely important.)\n\nThe others followed where the Dogsled them and found a young Calormene sitting under a chestnut tree beside a clear stream of water. It was Emeth. He rose at once and bowed gravely.\n\n\"Sir,\" he said to Peter, \"I know not whether you are my friend or my foe, but I should count it my honor to have you for either. Has not one of the poets said that a noble friend is the best gift and a noble enemy the next best?\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said Peter, \"I do not know that there need be any war between you and us.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Do tell us who you are and what's happened to you,\" said Jill.\n\n\"If there's going to be a story, let's all have a drink and sit down,\" barked the Dogs. \"We're quite blown.\"\n\n\"Well of course you will be if you keep tearing about the way you have done,\" said Eustace.\n\nSo the humans sat down on the grass. And when the Dogs had all had a very noisy drink out of the stream they all sat down, bolt upright, panting, with their tongues hanging out of their heads a little on one side to hear the story. But Jewel remained standing, polishing his horn against his side." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"KNOW, O WARLIKE KINGS,\" SAID EMETH, \" and you, O ladies whose beauty illuminates the universe, that I am Emeth, the seventh son of Harpa Tarkaan of the city of Tehishbaan, Westward beyond the desert. I came lately into Narnia with nine and twenty others under the command of Rishda Tarkaan. Now when I first heard that we should march upon Narnia I rejoiced; for I had heard many things of your Land and desired greatly to meet you in battle. But when I found that we were to go in disguised as merchants (which is a shameful dress fora warrior and the son of a Tarkaan) and to work by lies and trickery, then my joy departed from me. And most of all when I found we must wait upon a Monkey, and when it began to be said that Tash and Aslan were one, then the world became dark in my eyes. For always since I was a boy I have served Tash and my great desire was to know more of him, if it might be, to look upon his face. But the name of Aslan was hateful tome.\n\n\"And, as you have seen, we were called together outside the straw-roofed hovel, night after night, and the fire was kindled, and the Ape brought forth out of the hovel something upon four legs that I could not well see. And the people and the Beasts bowed down and did honor to it. But I thought, the Tarkaan is deceived by the Ape: for this thing that comes out of the stable is neither Tash nor any other god. But when I watched the Tarkaan's face, and marked every word that he said to the Monkey, then I changed my mind: for I saw that the Tarkaan did not believe in it himself. And then I understood that he did not believe in Tash at all: for if he had, how could he dare to mock him?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"When I understood this, a great rage fell upon me and I wondered that the true Tash did not strike down both the Monkey and the Tarkaan with fire from heaven." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nevertheless I hid my anger and held my tongue and waited to see how it would end. But last night, as some of you know, the Monkey brought not forth the yellow thing but said that all who desired to look upon Tashlan-for so they mixed the two words to pretend that they were all one-must pass one by one into the hovel. And I said to myself, Doubtless this is some other deception. But when the Cat had followed in and had come out again in a madness of terror, then I said to myself, Surely the true Tash, whom they called on without knowledge or belief, has now come among us, and will avenge himself. And though my heart was turned into water inside me because of the greatness and terror of Tash, yet my desire was stronger than my fear, and I put force upon my knees to stay them from trembling, and on my teeth that they should not chatter, and resolved to look upon the face of Tash though he should slay me. So I offered myself to go into the hovel; and the Tarkaan, though unwillingly, let me go.\n\n\"As soon as I had gone in at the door, the first wonder was that I found myself in this great sunlight (as we all are now) though the inside of the hovel had looked dark from outside. But I had no time to marvel at this, for immediately I was forced to fight for my head against one of our own men. As soon as I saw him I understood that the Monkey and the Tarkaan had set him thereto slay any who came in if he were not in their secrets: so that this man also was a liar and a mocker and no true servant of Tash. I had the better will to fight him; and having slain the villain, I cast him out behind me through the door." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Then I looked about me and saw the sky and the wide lands and smelled the sweetness." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And I said, By the Gods, this is a pleasant place: it maybe that I am come into the country of Tash. And I began to journey into the strange country and to seek him.\n\n\"So I went overmuch grass and many flowers and among all kinds of wholesome and delectable trees till lo! in a narrow place between two rocks there came to meet me a great Lion. The speed of him was like the ostrich, and his size was an elephant's; his hair was like pure gold and the brightness of his eyes like gold that is liquid in the furnace. He was more terrible than the Flaming Mountain of Lagour, and in beauty he surpassed all that is in the world even as the rose in bloom surpasses the dust of the desert. Then I fell at his feet and thought, Surely this is the hour of death, for the Lion (who is worthy of all honor) will know that I have served Tash all my days and not him. Nevertheless, it is better to seethe Lion and die than to be Tisroc of the world and live and not to have seen him. But the Glorious One bent down his golden head and touched my forehead with his tongue and said, Son, thou art welcome. But I said, Alas, Lord, I am no son of thine but the servant of Tash. He answered, Child, all the service thou hast done to Tash, I account as service done tome. Then by reasons of my great desire for wisdom and understanding, I overcame my fear and questioned the Glorious One and said, Lord, is it then true, as the Ape said, that thou and Tash are one? The Lion growled so that the earth shook (but his wrath was not against me) and said, It is false. Not because he and I are one, but because we are opposites, I take tome the services which thou hast done to him. For I and he are of such different kinds that no service which is vile can be done tome, and none which is not vile can be done to him. Therefore if any man swear by Tash and keep his oath for the oath's sake, it is by me that he has truly sworn, though he know it not, and it is I who reward him. And if any man do a cruelty in my name, then, though he says the name Aslan, it is Tash whom he serves and by Tash his deed is accepted. Dost thou understand, Child? I said, Lord, thou knowest how much I understand. But I said also (for the truth constrained me), Yet I have been seeking Tash all my days. Beloved, said the Glorious One, unless thy desire had been for me thou wouldst not have sought so long and so truly. For all find what they truly seek." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Then he breathed upon me and took away the trembling from my limbs and caused me to stand upon my feet. And after that, he said not much but that we should meet again, and I must go further up and further in. Then he turned him about in a storm and flurry of gold and was gone suddenly.\n\n\"And since then, O Kings and Ladies, I have been wandering to find him and my happiness is so great that it even weakens me like a wound. And this is the marvel of marvels, that he called me Beloved, me who am but as a dog-\"\n\n\"Eh? What's that?\" said one of the Dogs.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Emeth. \"It is but a fashion of speech which we have in Calormen.\"\n\n\"Well, I can't say it's one I like very much,\" said the Dog.\n\n\"He doesn't mean any harm,\" said an older Dog. \"After all, we call our puppies Boys when they don't behave properly.\"\n\n\"So we do,\" said the first Dog. \"Or girls.\"\n\n\"S-s-sh!\" said the Old Dog. \"That's not a nice word to use. Remember where you are.\"\n\n\"Look!\" said Jill suddenly. Someone was coming, rather timidly, to meet them; a graceful creature on four feet, all silvery-gray. And they stared at him fora whole ten seconds before five or six voices said all at once, \"Why, it's old Puzzle!\" They had never seen him by daylight with the lion-skin off, and it made an extraordinary difference. He was himself now: a beautiful donkey with such a soft, gray coat and such a gentle, honest face that if you had seen him you would have done just what Jill and Lucy did-rushed forward and put your arms round his neck and kissed his nose and stroked his ears." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When they asked him where he had been he said he had come in at the door along with all the other creatures but he had-well, to tell the truth, he had been keeping out of their way as much as he could; and out of Aslan's way. For the sight of the real Lion had made him so ashamed of all that nonsense about dressing up in a lion-skin that he did not know how to look anyone in the face. But when he saw that all his friends were going away Westward, and after he had had a mouthful or so of grass (\"And I've never tasted such good grass in my life,\" said Puzzle), he plucked up his courage and followed. \"But what I'll do if I really have to meet Aslan, I'm sure I don't know,\" he added.\n\n\"You'll find it will be all right when you really do,\" said Queen Lucy.\n\nThen they all went forward together, always Westward, for that seemed to be the direction Aslan had meant when he cried out, \"Further up and further in.\" Many other creatures were slowly moving the same way, but that grassy country was very wide and there was no crowding.\n\nIt still seemed to be early, and the morning freshness was in the air. They kept on stopping to look round and to look behind them, partly because it was so beautiful but partly also because there was something about it which they could not understand.\n\n\"Peter,\" said Lucy, \"where is this, do you suppose?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" said the High King. \"It reminds me of somewhere but I can't give it a name. Could it be somewhere we once stayed fora holiday when we were very, very small?\"\n\n\"It would have to have been a jolly good holiday,\" said Eustace, \"I bet there isn't a country like this anywhere in our world. Look at the colors! You couldn't get a blue like the blue on those mountains in our world.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Is it not Aslan's country?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said Tirian.\n\n\"Not like Aslan's country on top of that mountain beyond the Eastern end of the world,\" said Jill. \"I've been there.\"\n\n\"If you ask me,\" said Edmund, \"it's like somewhere in the Narnian world. Look at those mountains ahead-and the big ice-mountains beyond them. Surely they're rather like the mountains we used to see from Narnia, the ones up Westward beyond the Waterfall?\"\n\n\"Yes, so they are,\" said Peter. \"Only these are bigger.\"\n\n\"I don't think those ones are so very like anything in Narnia,\" said Lucy. \"But look there.\" She pointed Southward to their left, and everyone stopped and turned to look. \"Those hills,\" said Lucy, \"the nice woody ones and the blue ones behind-aren't they very like the Southern border of Narnia?\"\n\n\"Like!\" cried Edmund after a moment's silence. \"Why, they're exactly like. Look, there's Mount Pire with his forked head, and there's the pass into Archenland and everything!\"\n\n\"And yet they're not like,\" said Lucy. \"They're different. They have more colors on them and they look further away than I remembered and they're more... more... oh, I don't know...\"\n\n\"More like the real thing,\" said the Lord Digory softly.\n\nSuddenly Farsight the Eagle spread his wings, soared thirty or forty feet up into the air, circled round and then alighted on the ground.\n\n\"Kings and Queens,\" he cried, \"we have all been blind. We are only beginning to see where we are. From up there I have seen it all-Ettinsmuir, Beaversdam, the Great River, and Cair Paravel still shining on the edge of the Eastern Sea. Narnia is not dead. This is Narnia.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"But how can it be?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said Peter. \"For Aslan told us older ones that we should never return to Narnia, and here we are.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Eustace. \"And we saw it all destroyed and the sun putout.\"\n\n\"And it's all so different,\" said Lucy.\n\n\"The Eagle is right,\" said the Lord Digory. \"Listen, Peter. When Aslan said you could never go back to Narnia, he meant the Narnia you were thinking of. But that was not the real Narnia. That had a beginning and an end. It was only a shadow or a copy of the real Narnia which has always been here and always will be here: just as our own world, England and all, is only a shadow or copy of something in Aslan's real world. You need not mourn over Narnia, Lucy. All of the old Narnia that mattered, all the dear creatures, have been drawn into the real Narnia through the Door. And of course it is different; as different as areal thing is from a shadow or as waking life is from a dream.\" His voice stirred everyone like a trumpet as he spoke these words: but when he added under his breath'It's all in Plato, all in Plato: bless me, what do they teach them at these schools!\" the older ones laughed. It was so exactly like the sort of thing they had heard him say long ago in that other world where his beard was gray instead of golden. He knew why they were laughing and joined in the laugh himself. But very quickly they all became grave again: for, as you know, there is a kind of happiness and wonder that makes you serious. It is too good to waste on jokes.\n\nIt is as hard to explain how this sunlit land was different from the old Narnia as it would be to tell you how the fruits of that country taste. Perhaps you will get some idea of it if you think like this. You may have been in a room in which there was a window that looked out on a lovely bay of the sea or a green valley that wound away among mountains. And in the wall of that room opposite to the window there may have been a looking-glass. And as you turned away from the window you suddenly caught sight of that sea or that valley, allover again, in the looking-glass. And the sea in the mirror, or the valley in the mirror, were in one sense just the same as the real ones: yet at the same time they were somehow different-deeper, more wonderful, more like places in a story: in a story you have never heard but very much want to know. The difference between the old Narnia and the new Narnia was like that. The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more. I can't describe it any better than that: if you ever get there you will know what I mean." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right fore-hoof on the ground and neighed, and then cried:\n\n\"I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!\"\n\nHe shook his mane and sprang forward into a great gallop-a Unicorn's gallop, which, in our world, would have carried him out of sight in a few moments. But now a most strange thing happened. Everyone else began to run, and they found, to their astonishment, that they could keep up with him: not only the Dogs and the humans but even fat little Puzzle and short-legged Poggin the Dwarf. The air flew in their faces as if they were driving fast in a car without a windscreen. The country flew pastas if they were seeing it from the windows of an express train. Faster and faster they raced, but no one got hot or tired or out of breath." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "IF ONE COULD RUN WITHOUT GETTING tired, I don't think one would often want to do anything else. But there might be special reasons for stopping, and it was a special reason which made Eustace presently shout:\n\n\"I say! Steady! Look what we're coming to!\"\n\nAnd well he might. For now they saw before them Caldron Pool and beyond the Pool the high unclimbable cliffs and, pouring down the cliffs, thousands of tons of water every second, flashing like diamonds in some places and dark, glassy green in others, the Great Waterfall; and already the thunder of it was in their ears.\n\n\"Don't stop! Further up and further in,\" called Farsight, tilting his flight a little upward.\n\n\"It's all very well for him,\" said Eustace, but Jewel also cried out:\n\n\"Don't stop. Further up and further in! Take it in your stride.\"\n\nHis voice could only just be heard above the roar of the water but next moment everyone saw that he had plunged into the Pool. And helter-skelter behind him, with splash after splash, all the others did the same. The water was not bitingly cold as all of them (and especially Puzzle) expected, but of a delicious foamy coolness. They all found they were swimming straight for the Waterfall itself.\n\n\"This is absolutely crazy,\" said Eustace to Edmund.\n\n\"I know. And yet-\" said Edmund.\n\n\"Isn't it wonderful?\" said Lucy. \"Have you noticed one can't feel afraid, even if one wants to? Try it.\"\n\n\"By Jove, neither one can,\" said Eustace after he had tried.\n\nJewel reached the foot of the Waterfall first, but Tirian was only just behind him. Jill was last, so she could seethe whole thing better than the others. She saw something white moving steadily up the face of the Waterfall. That white thing was the Unicorn. You couldn't tell whether he was swimming or climbing, but he moved on, higher and higher. The point of his horn divided the water just above his head, and it cascaded out in two rainbow-colored streams all round his shoulders. Just behind him came King Tirian. He moved his legs and arms as if he were swimming, but he moved straight upward: as if one could swim up the wall of a house." }, { "from": "human", "value": "What looked funniest was the Dogs." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "During the gallop they had not been at all out of breath, but now, as they swarmed and wriggled upwards, there was plenty of spluttering and sneezing among them; that was because they would keep on barking, and every time they barked they got their mouths and noses full of water. But before Jill had time to notice all these things fully, she was going up the Waterfall herself. It was the sort of thing that would have been quite impossible in our world. Even if you hadn't been drowned, you would have been smashed to pieces by the terrible weight of water against the countless jags of rock. But in that world you could do it. You went on, up and up, with all kinds of reflected lights flashing at you from the water and all manner of colored stones flashing through it, till it seemed as if you were climbing up light itself-and always higher and higher till the sense of height would have terrified you if you could be terrified, but later it was only gloriously exciting. And then at last one came to the lovely, smooth green curve in which the water poured over the top and found that one was out on the level river above the Waterfall. The current was racing away behind you, but you were such a wonderful swimmer that you could make headway against it. Soon they were all on the bank, dripping but happy.\n\nAlong valley opened ahead and great snow-mountains, now much nearer, stood up against the sky.\n\n\"Further up and further in,\" cried Jewel and instantly they were off again.\n\nThey were out of Narnia now and up into the Western Wild which neither Tirian nor Peter nor even the Eagle had ever seen before. But the Lord Digory and the Lady Polly had. \"Do you remember? Do you remember?\" they said-and said it in steady voices too, without panting, though the whole party was now running faster than an arrow flies." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What, Lord?\" said Tirian. \"Is it then true, as stories tell, that you two journeyed hereon the very day the world was made?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Digory, \"and it seems tome as if it were only yesterday.\"\n\n\"And on a flying horse?\" asked Tirian. \"Is that part true?\"\n\n\"Certainly,\" said Digory. But the Dogs barked, \"Faster, faster!\"\n\nSo they ran faster and faster till it was more like flying than running, and even the Eagle overhead was going no faster than they. And they went through winding valley after winding valley and up the steep sides of hills and, faster than ever, down the other side, following the river and sometimes crossing it and skimming across mountain lakes as if they were living speedboats, till at last at the far end of one long lake which looked as blue as a turquoise, they saw a smooth green hill. Its sides were as steep as the sides of a pyramid and round the very top of it ran a green wall: but above the wall rose the branches of trees whose leaves looked like silver and their fruit like gold.\n\n\"Further up and further in!\" roared the Unicorn, and no one held back. They charged straight at the foot of the hill and then found themselves running up it almost as water from a broken wave runs up a rock out at the point of some bay. Though the slope was nearly as steep as the roof of a house and the grass was smooth as a bowling green, no one slipped. Only when they had reached the very top did they slow up; that was because they found themselves facing great golden gates. And fora moment none of them was bold enough to try if the gates would open. They all felt just as they had felt about the fruit-\"Dare we? Is it right? Can it be meant for us?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But while they were standing thus a great horn, wonderfully loud and sweet, blew from somewhere inside that walled garden and the gates swung open.\n\nTirian stood holding his breath and wondering who would come out. And what came was the last thing he had expected: a little, sleek, bright-eyed Talking Mouse with a red feather stuck in a circlet on its head and its left paw resting on along sword. It bowed, a most beautiful bow, and said in its shrill voice:\n\n\"Welcome, in the Lion's name. Come further up and further in.\"\n\nThen Tirian saw King Peter and King Edmund and Queen Lucy rush forward to kneel down and greet the Mouse and they all cried out'Reepicheep!\" And Tirian breathed fast with the sheer wonder of it, for now he knew that he was looking atone of the great heroes of Narnia, Reepicheep the Mouse who had fought at the great Battle of Beruna and afterward sailed to the World's end with King Caspian the Seafarer. But before he had had much time to think of this he felt two strong arms thrown about him and felt a bearded kiss on his cheeks and heard a well remembered voice saying:\n\n\"What, lad? Art thicker and taller since I last touched thee!\"\n\nIt was his own father, the good King Erlian: but not as Tirian had seen him last when they brought him home pale and wounded from his fight with the giant, nor even as Tirian remembered him in his later years when he was a gray-headed warrior. This was his father, young and merry, as he could just remember him from very early days when he himself had been a little boy playing games with his father in the castle garden at Cair Paravel, just before bedtime on summer evenings. The very smell of the bread-and-milk he used to have for supper came back to him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jewel thought to himself, \"I will leave them to talk fora little and then I will go and greet the good King Erlian. Many a bright apple has he given me when I was but a colt.\" But next moment he had something else to think of, for out of the gateway there came a horse so mighty and noble that even a Unicorn might feel shy in its presence: a great winged horse. It looked a moment at the Lord Digory and the Lady Polly and neighed out'What, cousins!\" and they both shouted'Fledge! Good old Fledge!\" and rushed to kiss it.\n\nBut by now the Mouse was again urging them to come in. So all of them passed in through the golden gates, into the delicious smell that blew toward them out of that garden and into the cool mixture of sunlight and shadow under the trees, walking on springy turf that was all dotted with white flowers. The very first thing which struck everyone was that the place was far larger than it had seemed from outside. But no one had time to think about that for people were coming up to meet the newcomers from every direction.\n\nEveryone you had ever heard of (if you knew the history of those countries) seemed to be there. There was Glimfeather the Owl and Puddleglum the Marsh-wiggle, and King Rilian the Disenchanted, and his mother the Star's daughter and his great father Caspian himself. And close beside him were the Lord Drinian and the Lord Berne and Trumpkin the Dwarf and Truffle-hunter the good Badger with Glenstorm the Centaur and a hundred other heroes of the great War of Deliverance. And then from another side came Cor the King of Archenland with King Lune his father and his wife Queen Aravis and the brave Prince Corin Thunder-Fist, his brother, and Bree the Horse and Hwin the Mare. And then-which was a wonder beyond all wonders to Tirian-there came from further away in the past, the two good Beavers and Tumnus the Faun. And there was greeting and kissing and hand-shaking and old jokes revived, (you've no idea how good an old joke sounds when you take it out again after a rest of five or six hundred years) and the whole company moved forward to the center of the orchard where the Phoenix satin a tree and looked down upon them all, and at the foot of that tree were two thrones and in those two thrones a King and Queen so great and beautiful that everyone bowed down before them. And well they might, for these two were King Frank and Queen Helen from whom all the most ancient Kings of Narnia and Archenland are descended. And Tirian felt as you would feel if you were brought before Adam and Eve in all their glory." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "About half an hour later-or it might have been half a hundred years later, for time there is not like time here-Lucy stood with her dear friend, her oldest Narnian friend, the Faun Tumnus, looking down over the wall of that garden, and seeing all Narnia spread out below. But when you looked down you found that this hill was much higher than you had thought: it sank down with shining cliffs, thousands of feet below them and trees in that lower world looked no bigger than grains of green salt. Then she turned inward again and stood with her back to the wall and looked at the garden.\n\n\"I see,\" she said at last, thoughtfully. \"I see now. This garden is like the stable. It is far bigger inside than it was outside.\"\n\n\"Of course, Daughter of Eve,\" said the Faun. \"The further up and the further in you go, the bigger everything gets. The inside is larger than the outside.\"\n\nLucy looked hard at the garden and saw that it was not really a garden but a whole world, with its own rivers and woods and sea and mountains. But they were not strange: she knew them all.\n\n\"I see,\" she said. \"This is still Narnia, and more real and more beautiful than the Narnia down below, just as it was more real and more beautiful than the Narnia outside the stable door! I see... world within world, Narnia within Narnia....\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Mr. Tumnus, \"like an onion: except that as you continue to go in and in, each circle is larger than the last.\"\n\nAnd Lucy looked this way arid that and soon found that anew and beautiful thing had happened to her. Whatever she looked at, however faraway it might be, once she had fixed her eyes steadily on it, became quite clear and close as if she were looking through a telescope. She could seethe whole Southern desert and beyond it the great city of Tashbaan: to Eastward she could see Cair Paravel on the edge of the sea and the very window of the room that had once been her own. And far out to sea she could discover the islands, islands after islands to the end of the world, and, beyond the end, the huge mountain which they had called Aslan's country. But now she saw that it was part of a great chain of mountains which ringed round the whole world. In front of her it seemed to come quite close. Then she looked to her left and saw what she took to be a great bank of brightly colored cloud, cutoff from them by a gap. But she looked harder and saw that it was not a cloud at all but areal land. And when she had fixed her eyes on one particular spot of it, she at once cried out, \"Peter! Edmund! Come and look! Come quickly.\" And they came and looked, for their eyes also had become like hers." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Why!\" exclaimed Peter. \"It's England. And that's the house itself-Professor Kirk's old home in the country where all our adventures began!\"\n\n\"I thought that house had been destroyed,\" said Edmund.\n\n\"So it was,\" said the Faun. \"But you are now looking at the England within England, the real England just as this is the real Narnia. And in that inner England no good thing is destroyed.\"\n\nSuddenly they shifted their eyes to another spot, and then Peter and Edmund and Lucy gasped with amazement and shouted out and began waving: for there they saw their own father and mother, waving back at them across the great, deep valley. It was like when you see people waving at you from the deck of a big ship when you are waiting on the quay to meet them.\n\n\"How can we get at them?\" said Lucy.\n\n\"That is easy,\" said Mr. Tumnus. \"That country and this country-all the real countries-are only spurs jutting out from the great mountains of Aslan. We have only to walk along the ridge, upward and inward, till it joins on. And listen! There is King Frank's horn: we must all go up.\"\n\nAnd soon they found themselves all walking together-and a great, bright procession it was-up toward mountains higher than you could see in this world even if they were thereto be seen. But there was no snow on those mountains: there were forests and green slopes and sweet orchards and flashing waterfalls, one above the other, going up forever. And the land they were walking on grew narrower all the time, with a deep valley on each side: and across that valley the land which was the real England grew nearer and nearer.\n\nThe light ahead was growing stronger. Lucy saw that a great series of many-colored cliffs led up in front of them like a giant's staircase. And then she forgot everything else, because Aslan himself was coming, leaping down from cliff to cliff like a living cataract of power and beauty." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And the very first person whom Aslan called to him was Puzzle the Donkey. You never saw a donkey look feebler and sillier than Puzzle did as he walked up to Aslan, and he looked, beside Aslan, as small as a kitten looks beside a St. Bernard. The Lion bowed down his head and whispered something to Puzzle at which his long ears went down, but then he said something else at which the ears perked up again. The humans couldn't hear what he had said either time. Then Aslan turned to them and said:\n\n\"You do not yet look so happy as I mean you to be.\"\n\nLucy said, \"We're so afraid of being sent away, Aslan. And you have sent us back into our own world so often.\"\n\n\"No fear of that,\" said Aslan. \"Have you not guessed?\"\n\nTheir hearts leaped and a wild hope rose within them.\n\n\"There was areal railway accident,\" said Aslan softly. \"Your father and mother and all of you are-as you used to call it in the Shadowlands-dead. The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning.\"\n\nAnd as He spoke He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Assist with the plot and keep the story going.\nTags: fantasy, dark fantasy, short stories\nAuthor: Andrzej Sapkowski\nTitle: The Last Wish\nChapter: 1" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She came to him towards morning.\n\nShe entered very carefully, moving silently, floating through the chamber like a phantom; the only sound was that of her mantle brushing her naked skin. Yet this faint sound was enough to wake the witcher– or maybe it only tore him from the half-slumber in which he rocked monotonously, as though travelling though fathomless depths, suspended between the seabed and its calm surface amidst gently undulating strands of seaweed.\n\nHe did not move, did not stir. The girl flitted closer, threw off her mantle and slowly, hesitantly, rested her knee on the edge of the large bed. He observed her through lowered lashes, still not betraying his wakefulness. The girl carefully climbed onto the bedclothes, and onto him, wrapping her thighs around him. Leaning forward on straining arms, she brushed his face with hair which smelt of chamomile. Determined, and as if impatient, she leant over and touched his eyelids, cheeks, lips with the tips of her breasts. He smiled, very slowly, delicately, grasping her by the shoulders, and she straightened, escaping his fingers. She was radiant, luminous in the misty brilliance of dawn. He moved, but with pressure from both hands, she forbade him to change position and, with alight but decisive movement of her hips, demanded a response.\n\nHe responded. She no longer backed away from his hands; she threw her head back, shook her hair. Her skin was cool and surprisingly smooth. Her eyes, glimpsed when her face came close to his, were huge and dark as the eyes of a water nymph.\n\nRocked, he sank into a sea of chamomile as it grew agitated and seethed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Later, it was said the man came from the north, from Ropers Gate. He came on foot, leading his laden horse by the bridle. It was late afternoon and the ropers\", saddlers\" and tanners' stalls were already closed, the street empty. It was hot but the man had a black coat thrown over his shoulders. He drew attention to himself.\n\nHe stopped in front of the Old Narakort Inn, stood therefor a moment, listened to the hubbub of voices. As usual at this hour, it was full of people.\n\nThe stranger did not enter the Old Narakort. He pulled his horse further down the street to another tavern, a smaller one, called The Fox. Not enjoying the best of reputations, it was almost empty.\n\nThe innkeeper raised his head above a barrel of pickled cucumbers and measured the man with his gaze. The outsider, still in his coat, stood stiffly in front of the counter, motionless and silent.\n\n\"What will it be?\"\n\n\"Beer,\" said the stranger. His voice was unpleasant.\n\nThe innkeeper wiped his hands on his canvas apron and filled a chipped earthenware tankard.\n\nThe stranger was not old but his hair was almost entirely white. Beneath his coat he wore a worn leather jerkin laced up at the neck and shoulders.\n\nAshe took off his coat those around him noticed that he carried a sword– not something unusual in itself, nearly every man in Wyzim carried a weapon– but no one carried a sword strapped to his back as if it were a bow or a quiver.\n\nThe stranger did not sit at the table with the few other guests. He remained standing at the counter, piercing the innkeeper with his gaze. He drew from the tankard." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm looking fora room for the night. '\n\n\"There's none, \"grunted the innkeeper, looking at the guest's boots, dusty and dirty. \"Ask at the Old Narakort.\"\n\n\"I would rather stay here.\"\n\n\"There is none.\" The innkeeper finally recognised the stranger's accent. He was Rivian.\n\n\"I'll pay. ' The outsider spoke quietly, as if unsure, and the whole nasty affair began. A pockmarked beanpole of a man who, from the moment the outsider had entered, had not taken his gloomy eyes from him, got up and approached the counter. Two of his companions rose behind him, no more than two paces away.\n\n\"There's no room to be had, you Rivian vagabond, \"rasped the pockmarked man, standing right next to the outsider.\"We don't need people like you in Wyzim. This is a decent town!\"\n\nThe outsider took his tankard and moved away. He glanced at the innkeeper, who avoided his eyes. It did not even occur to him to defend the Rivian. After all, who liked Rivians?\n\n\"All Rivians are thieves,\" the pockmarked man went on, his breath smelling of beer, garlic and anger. \"Do you hear me, you bastard?\"\n\n\"He can't hear you. His ears are full of shit, ' said one of the men with him, and the second man cackled.\n\n\"Pay and leave!\" yelled the pocked man.\n\nOnly now did the Rivian look at him.\n\n\"I'll finish my beer. '\n\n\"We'll give you a hand, \"the pockmarked man hissed. He knocked the tankard from the stranger's hand, and simultaneously grabbing him by the shoulder, dug his fingers into the leather strap which ran diagonally across the outsider's chest. One of the men behind him raised a fist to strike. The outsider curled upon the spot, throwing the pockmarked man off balance. The sword hissed in its sheath and glistened briefly in the dim light. The place seethed. There was a scream, and one of the few remaining customers tumbled towards the exit. A chair fell with a crash and earthenware smacked hollowly against the floor. The innkeeper, his lips trembling, looked at the horribly slashed face of the pocked man, who, clinging with his fingers to the edge of the counter, was slowly sinking from sight. The other two were lying on the floor, one motionless, the other writhing and convulsing in a dark, spreading puddle. A woman's hysterical scream vibrated in the air, piercing the ears as the innkeeper shuddered, caught his breath, and vomited." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The stranger retreated towards the wall, tense and alert. He held the sword in both hands, sweeping the blade through the air. No one moved. Terror, like cold mud, was clear on their faces, paralysing limbs and blocking throats.\n\nThree guards rushed into the tavern with thuds and clangs. They must have been close by. They had truncheons wound with leather straps at the ready, but at the sight of the corpses, drew their swords. The Rivian pressed his back against the wall and, with his left hand, pulled a dagger from his boot.\n\n\"Throw that down!\" one of the guards yelled with a trembling voice. \"Throw that down, you thug! You're coming with us! '\n\nThe second guard kicked aside the table between himself and the Rivian.\n\n\"Go get the men, Treska!\" he shouted to the third guard, who had stayed closer to the door.\n\n\"No need,\" said the stranger, lowering his sword. \"I'll come by myself. '\n\n\"You'll go, you son of a bitch, on the end of a rope! \"yelled the trembling guard.\"Throw that sword down or I'll smash your head in!\"\n\nThe Rivian straightened. He quickly pinned his blade under his left arm and with his right hand raised towards the guards, swiftly drew a complicated sign in the air. The clout-nails which studded his tunic from his wrists to elbows flashed.\n\nThe guards drew back, shielding their faces with their arms. One of the customers sprang up while another darted to the door. The woman screamed again, wild and ear-splitting.\n\n\"I'll come by myself, \"repeated the stranger in his resounding, metallic voice.\"And the three of you will go in front of me. Take me to the castellan. I don't know the way.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes, sir,\" mumbled the guard, dropping his head. He made towards the exit, looking around tentatively. The other two guards followed him out backwards, hastily. The stranger followed in their tracks, sheathing his sword and dagger. As they passed the tables the remaining customers hid their faces from the dangerous stranger." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Velerad, castellan of Wyzim, scratched his chin. He was neither superstitious nor faint-hearted but he did not relish the thought of being alone with the white-haired man. At last he made up his mind.\n\n\"Leave,\" he ordered the guards. \"And you, sit down. No, not there. Further away, if you please.\"\n\nThe stranger sat down. He no longer carried his sword or black coat.\n\n\"I am Velerad, castellan of Wyzim,\" said Velerad, toying with a heavy mace lying on the table. \"And I'm listening. What do you have to say tome, you brigand, before you are thrown into the dungeon? Three killed and an attempted spell-casting; not bad, not bad at all. Men are impaled for such things in Wyzim. But I'm a just man, so I will listen to you, before you are executed. Speak.\"\n\nThe Rivian unbuttoned his jerkin and pulled out a wad of white goat leather.\n\n\"You nail this crossways, in taverns,\" he said quietly. \"Is what's written here true? '\n\n\"Ah.\" Velerad grunted, looking at the runes etched into the leather. \"So that's it. And I didn't guess at once. Yes, it's true. It's signed by Foltest, King of Temeria, Pontar and Mahakam, which makes it true. A proclamation is a proclamation, witcher, but law is law– and I take care of law and order in Wyzim. I will not allow people to be murdered! Do you understand?\"\n\nThe Rivian nodded to show he understood. Velerad snorted with anger.\n\n\"You carry the witcher's emblem? \"The stranger reached into his jerkin once more and pulled out around medallion on a silver chain. It pictured the head of a wolf, baring its fangs.\"And do you have a name? Any name will do, it's simply to make conversation easier.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My name is Geralt.\"\n\n\"Geralt, then. Of Rivia I gather, from your accent?\"\n\n\"Of Rivia.\"\n\n\"Right. Do you know what, Geralt? This,\" Velerad slapped the proclamation, \"let it go. It's a serious matter. Many have tried and failed already. This, my friend, is not the same as roughing up a couple of scoundrels. '\n\n\"I know. This is my job, Velerad. And that proclamation offers a three thousand oren reward.\"\n\n\"Three thousand,\" Velerad scowled. \"And the princess as a wife, or so rumour says, although gracious Foltest has not proclaimed that.\"\n\n\"I'm not interested in the princess, \"Geralt said calmly. He was sitting motionless, his hands on his knees.\"Just in the three thousand. '\n\n\"What times,\" sighed the castellan. \"What foul times! Twenty years ago who would have thought, even in a drunken stupour, that such a profession as a witcher would exist? Itinerant killers of basilisks; travelling slayers of dragons and vodniks! Tell me, Geralt, are you allowed beer in your guild?\"\n\n\"Certainly.\"\n\nVelerad clapped his hands.\n\n\"Beer!\" he called. \"And sit closer, Geralt. What do I care?\"\n\nThe beer, when it arrived, was cold and frothy.\n\n\"Foul times,\" Velerod muttered, drinking deep from his tankard. \"All sorts of filth has sprung up. Mahakam, in the mountains, is teeming with bogeymen. In the past it was just wolves howling in the woods, but now it's kobolds and spriggans wherever you spit, werewolves or some other vermin. Fairies and rusalkas snatch children from villages by the hundreds. We have diseases never heard of before; it makes my hair stand on end. And now, to top it all, this! \"He pushed the wad of leather back across the table.\"It's not surprising, Geralt, that you witchers\" services are in demand. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The king's proclamation, castellan, \"Geralt raised his head.\"Do you know the details? '\n\nVelerad leant back in his chair, locked his hands over his stomach.\n\n\"The details? Yes, I know them. Not first-hand perhaps, but from a good source.\"\n\n\"That's what I want. '\n\n\"If you insist, then listen.\" Velerad drank some beer and lowered his voice. \"During the reign of old Medell, his father, when our gracious king was still a prince, Foltest showed us what he was capable of, and he was capable of a great deal. We hoped he would grow out of it. But shortly after his coronation Foltest surpassed himself, jaw-droppingly: he got his own sister with child. Adda was younger and they were always together, but nobody suspected anything except, perhaps, the queen... To get to the point: suddenly there is Adda with a huge belly, and Foltest talking about getting wed to his sister. The situation was made even more tense because Vizimir of Novigrad wanted his daughter, Dalka, to marry Foltest and had already sent out his envoys. We had to restrain Foltest from insulting them, and lucky we did, or Vizimir would have torn our insides out. Then, not without Adda's help– for she influenced her brother– we managed to dissuade the boy from a quick wedding.\n\n'Well, then Adda gave birth. And now listen, because this is where it all starts. Only a few saw what she bore, but one midwife jumped from the tower window to her death and the other lost her senses and remains dazed to this day. So I gather that the royal bastard– a girl– was not comely, and she died immediately. No one was in a hurry to tie the umbilical cord. Nor did Adda, to her good fortune, survive the birth." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"But then Foltest stepped in again." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Wisdom dictated that the royal bastard should have been burned or buried in the wilderness. Instead, on the orders of our gracious king, she was laid to rest in a sarcophagus in the vaults beneath the palace.\"\n\n\"It's too late for your wisdom now. \"Geralt raised his head.\"One of the Knowing Ones should have been sent for. '\n\n\"You mean those charlatans with stars on their hats? Of course. About ten of them came running later, when it became known what lay in the sarcophagus. And what scrambled out of it at night. Though it didn't start manifesting straightaway. Oh, no. For seven years after the funeral there was peace. Then one night– it was a full moon– there were screams in the palace, shouting and commotion! I don't have to tell you, this is your trade and you've read the proclamation. The infant had grown in the coffin– and how! – grown to have incredible teeth! Ina word, she became a striga.\n\n\"Pity you didn't seethe corpses, as I did. Had you, you'd have taken a great detour to avoid Wyzim.\"\n\nGeralt was silent.\n\n\"Then, as I was saying,\" Velerad continued, \"Foltest summoned a whole crowd of sorcerers. They all jabbered at the same time and almost came to blows with those staffs they carry– to beat off the dogs, no doubt, once they've been set loose on them. And I think they regularly are. I'm sorry, Geralt, if you have a different opinion of wizards. No doubt you do, in your profession, but tome they are swindlers and fools. You witchers inspire greater confidence in men. At least you are more straightforward.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt smiled, but didn't comment.\n\n\"But, to the point.\" The castellan peered into his tankard and poured more beer for himself and the Rivian. \"Some of the sorcerers\" advice didn't seem so stupid. One suggested burning the striga together with the palace and the sarcophagus. Another advised chopping her head off. The rest were keen on driving aspen stakes into her body during the day, when the she-devil was asleep in her coffin, worn out by her night's delights. Unfortunately one, a jester with a pointed hat and a bald pate, a hunch-backed hermit, argued it was magic: the spell could be undone and the striga would turn into Foltest's little daughter, as pretty as a picture. Someone simply had to stay in the crypt throughout the night, and that would be that. After which– can you imagine such a fool? – he went to the palace for the night. Little of him was left in the morning, only, I believe, his hat and stick. But Foltest clung to his idea like a burr to a dog's tail. He forbade any attempt to kill the striga and brought in charlatans from all corners of Wyzim to reverse the spell and turn her into a princess. What colourful company! Twisted women, cripples, dirty and louse-ridden. It was pitiful.\n\n\"They went ahead and cast spells– mainly over a bowl and tankard. Of course some were quickly exposed as frauds by Foltest or the council. A few were even hung on the palisades, but not enough of them. I would have hung them all. I don't suppose I have to say that the striga, in the meantime, was getting her teeth into all sorts of people every now and again and paying no attention to the fraudsters and their spells. Or that Foltest was no longer living in the palace. No one lived there anymore. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Velerad paused, drank some beer, and the witcher waited in silence.\n\n\"And so it's been for seven years, Geralt, because she was born around fourteen years ago. We've had a few other worries, like war with Vizimir of Novigrad– fought for real, understandable reasons– over the border posts, not for some princess or marriage alliance. Foltest sporadically hints at marriage and looks over portraits from neighbouring courts, which he then throws down the privy. And every now and then this mania seizes hold of him again, and he sends horsemen out to look for new sorcerers. His promised reward, the three thousand, has attracted any number of cranks, stray knights, even a shepherd known throughout the whole region as a cretin, may he rest in peace. But the striga is still doing well. Every now and again she gets her teeth into someone. You get used to it. And at least those heroes trying to reverse the spell have a use– the beast stuffs herself on the spot and doesn't roam beyond her palace. Foltest has anew palace, of course, quite a fine one. '\n\n\"In seven years,\" Geralt raised his head, \"in seven years, no one has settled the matter?\"\n\n\"Well, no.\" Velerad's gaze penetrated the witcher.\"Because the matter can't be settled. We have to come to terms with it, especially Foltest, our gracious and beloved ruler, who will keep nailing these proclamations up at crossroads. Although there are fewer volunteers now. There was one recently, but he insisted on the three thousand in advance. So we put him in a sack and threw him in the lake.\"\n\n\"There is still no shortage of fraudsters then.\"\n\n\"No, far from it,\" the castellan agreed without taking his eyes off the witcher. \"That's why you mustn't demand gold in advance when you go to the palace. If you go.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I'll go." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "'\n\n\"It's up to you. But remember my advice. As we're talking of the reward, there has been word recently about the second part of it. I mentioned it to you: the princess fora wife. I don't know who made it up, but if the striga looks the way they say then it's an exceptionally grim joke. Nevertheless there's been no lack of fools racing to the palace for the chance of joining the royal family. Two apprentice shoemakers, to be precise. Why are shoemakers so foolish, Geralt? '\n\n\"I don't know. And witchers, castellan? Have they tried? '\n\n\"There were a few. But when they heard the spell was to be lifted and the striga wasn't to be killed they mostly shrugged and left. That's one of the reasons why my esteem for witchers has grown, Geralt. And one came along, younger than you– I forget his name, if he gave it at all. He tried.\"\n\n\"And?\"\n\n\"The fanged princess spread his entrails over a considerable distance.\"\n\nGeralt nodded. \"That was all of them?\"\n\n\"There was one other.\"\n\nVelerad remained silent fora while, and the witcher didn't urge him on.\n\n\"Yes,\" the castellan said finally. \"There was one more. At first, when Foltest threatened him with the noose if he killed or harmed the striga, he laughed and started packing his belongings. But then-\" Velerad leaned across the table, lowered his voice to almost a whisper. \"-then he undertook the task. You see, Geralt, there are some wise men in Wyzim, in high positions, who've had enough of this whole affair. Rumour has it these men persuaded the witcher, in secret, not to fuss around with spells but to batter the striga to death and tell the king the spell had failed, that his dear daughter had been killed in self-defence– an accident at work. The king, of course, would be furious and refuse to pay an oren in reward. But that would bean end to it. The witty witcher replied we could chase strigas ourselves for nothing. Well, what could we do? We collected money, bargained... but nothing came of it. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt raised his eyebrows.\n\n\"Nothing,\" repeated Velerad. \"The witcher didn't want to try that first night. He trudged around, lay in wait, wandered about the neighbourhood. Finally, they say, he saw the striga inaction, as she does not clamber from her crypt just to stretch her legs. He saw her and scarpered that night. Without a word. '\n\nGeralt's expression changed a little, in what was probably supposed to be a smile.\n\n\"Those wise men,\" he said, \"they still have the money, no doubt? Witchers don't take payment in advance. '\n\n\"No doubt they still do,\" said Velerad.\n\n\"Does the rumour say how much they offer?\"\n\nVelerad bared his teeth in a smile. \"Some say eight hundred-\"\n\nGeralt shook his head.\n\n\"Others,\" murmured the castellan, \"talk of a thousand.\"\n\n\"Not much when you bear in mind that rumour likes to exaggerate. And the king is offering three thousand.\"\n\n\"Don't forget about the betrothal, \"Velerad mocked.\"What are you talking about? It's obvious you won't get the three thousand. '\n\n\"How's it obvious? '\n\nVelerad thumped the table. \"Geralt, do not spoil my impression of witchers! This has been going on for more than seven years! The striga is finishing off up to fifty people a year, fewer now people are avoiding the palace. Oh no, my friend, I believe in magic. I've seen a great deal and I believe, to a certain extent, in the abilities of wizards and witchers. But all this nonsense about lifting the spell was made up by a hunch-backed, snotty old man who'd lost his mind on his hermit's diet. It's nonsense which no one but Foltest believes. Adda gave birth to a striga because she slept with her brother. That is the truth, and no spell will help. Now the striga devours people– as strigas do– she has to be killed, and that is that. Listen: two years ago peasants from some God-forsaken hole near Mahakam were plagued by a dragon devouring their sheep. They set out together, battered the dragon to death with stanchions, and did not even think it worth boasting about. But we in Wyzim are waiting fora miracle and bolting our doors every full moon, or tying our criminals to a stake in front of the palace, praying the beast stuffs herself and returns to her sarcophagus.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Not a bad method,\" the witcher smiled. \"Are there fewer criminals?\"\n\n\"Not a bit of it.\"\n\n\"Which way to the palace, the new one?\"\n\n\"I will take you myself. And what about the wise men's suggestion? '\n\n\"Castellan,\" said Geralt, \"why act in haste? After all, I really could have an accident at work, irrespective of my intentions. Justin case, the wise men should bethinking about how to save me from the king's anger and get those fifteen hundred orens, of which rumour speaks, ready. '\n\n\"It was to be a thousand.\"\n\n\"No, Lord Velerad,\" the witcher said categorically. \"The witcher who was offered a thousand ran at the mere sight of the striga, without bargaining. So the risk is greater than a thousand. Whether it is greater than one and a half remains to be seen. Of course, I will say goodbye beforehand.\"\n\n\"Geralt?\" Velerad scratched his head. \"One thousand two hundred?\"\n\n\"No. This isn't an easy task. The king is offering three, and sometimes it's easier to lift a spell than to kill. But one of my predecessors would have done so, or killed the striga, if this were simple. You think they let themselves be devoured out of fear of the king?\"\n\n\"Then, witcher,\" Velerad nodded wistfully, \"our agreement stands. But a word of advice– say nothing to the king about the danger of an accident at work.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Foltest was slim and had a pretty– too pretty– face. He was under forty, the witcher thought. The king was sitting on a dwarf-armchair carved from black wood, his legs stretched out toward the hearth, where two dogs were warming themselves. Next to him on a chest sat an older, powerfully-built man with a beard. Behind the king stood another man, richly dressed and with a proud look on his face. A magnate.\n\n\"A witcher from Rivia,\" said the king after the moment's silence which fell after Velerad's introduction.\n\n\"Yes, your Majesty.\" Geralt lowered his head.\n\n\"What made your hair so grey? Magic? I can see that you are not old. That was a joke. Say nothing. You've had a fair amount of experience, I dare presume? '\n\n\"Yes, your Majesty.\"\n\n\"I would love to hear about it.\"\n\nGeralt bowed even lower. \"Your Majesty, you know our code of practice forbids us to speak of our work.\"\n\n\"A convenient code, witcher, very convenient. But tell me, have you had anything to do with spriggans?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"Vampires, leshys?\"\n\n\"Those too.\"\n\nFoltest hesitated. \"Strigas?\"\n\nGeralt raised his head, looking the king in the eyes. \"Yes.\"\n\nFoltest turned his eyes away. \"Velerad!\"\n\n\"Yes, Gracious Majesty?\"\n\n\"Have you given him the details?\"\n\n\"Yes, your Gracious Majesty. He says the spell cast on the princess can be reversed.\"\n\n\"I have known that fora longtime. How, witcher? Oh, of course, I forgot. Your code of practice. All right. I will make one small comment. Several witchers have been here already. Velerad, you have told him? Good. So I know that your speciality is to kill, rather than to reverse spells. This isn't an option. If one hair falls from my daughter's head, your head will be on the block. That is all. Ostrit, Lord Segelen, stay and give him all the information he requires. Witchers always ask a lot of questions. Feed him and let him stay in the palace. He is not to drift from tavern to tavern.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The king rose, whistled to his dogs and made his way to the door, scattering the straw covering the chamber floor. At the door he paused.\n\n\"If you succeed, witcher, the reward is yours. Maybe I will add something if you do well. Of course, the nonsense spread by common folk about marrying the princess carries not a word of truth. I'm sure you don't believe I would give my daughter's hand to a stranger? '\n\n\"No, your Majesty. I don't. '\n\n\"Good. That shows you have some wisdom.\"\n\nFoltest left, closing the door behind him. Velerad and the magnate, who had been standing all the while, immediately sat at the table. The castellan finished the king's half-full cup, peered into the jug and cursed. Ostrit, who took Foltest's chair, scowled at the witcher while he stroked the carved armrests. Segelin, the bearded man, nodded at Geralt.\n\n\"Do sit, witcher, do sit. Supper will soon be served. What would you like to know? Castellan Velerad has probably already told you everything. I know him, he has sooner told you too much than too little.\"\n\n\"Only a few questions.\"\n\n\"Ask.\"\n\n\"The castellan said that, after the striga's appearance, the king called up many Knowing Ones. '\n\n\"That's right. But don't say striga, say princess. It makes it easier to avoid making a mistake in the king's presence– and any consequent unpleasantness. '\n\n\"Was there anyone well-known among the Knowing Ones? Anyone famous?\"\n\n\"There were such, then and later. I don't remember the names. Do you, Lord Ostrit? '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I don't recall, \"said the magnate.\"But I know some of them enjoyed fame and recognition. There was much talk of it. '\n\n\"Were they in agreement that the spell can be lifted?\"\n\n\"They were far from any agreement,\" smiled Segelin, \"on any subject. But such an opinion was expressed. It was supposed to be simple, not even requiring magical abilities. As I understand it, it would suffice for someone to spend the night– from sunset to the third crowing of the cock– by the sarcophagus.\"\n\n\"Simple indeed,\" snorted Velerad.\n\n\"I would like to hear a description of the... the princess.\"\n\nVelerad leapt up from his chair. \"The princess looks like a striga!\" he yelled. \"Like the most strigish striga I have heard of! Her Royal Highness, the cursed royal bastard, is four cubits high, shaped like a barrel of beer, has a maw which stretches from ear to ear and is full of dagger-like teeth, has red eyes and a red mop of hair! Her paws, with claws like a wildcat's, hang down to the ground! I'm surprised we've yet to send her likeness to friendly courts! The princess, plague choke her, is already fourteen. Time to think of giving her hand to a prince in marriage! '\n\n\"Hold on, Velerad,\" frowned Ostrit, glancing at the door. Segelin smiled faintly.\n\n\"The description, although vivid, is reasonably accurate, and that's what you wanted, isn't it, witcher? Velerad didn't mention that the princess moves with incredible speed and is far stronger for her height and build than one would expect. And she is fourteen years old, if that is of any importance. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is,\" said the witcher. \"Do the attacks on people only occur during the full moon?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" replied Segelin, \"if she attacks beyond the old palace. Within the palace walls people always die, irrespective of the moon's phase. But she only ventures out during the full moon, and not always then. '\n\n\"Has there been even one attack during the day?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"Does she always devour her victims?\"\n\nVelerad spat vehemently on the straw.\n\n\"Come on, Geralt, it'll be supper soon. Pish! Devours, takes a bite, leaves aside, it varies– according to her mood, no doubt. She only bit the head from one, gutted a couple, and a few more she picked clean to the bone, sucked them dry, you could say. Damned mother's-!\"\n\n\"Careful, Velerad,\" snarled Ostrit. \"Say what you want about the striga but do not insult Adda in front of me, as you would not dare in the king's presence! '\n\n\"Has anyone she's attacked survived? \"The witcher asked, apparently paying no special attention to the magnate's outburst.\n\nSegelin and Ostrit looked at each other.\n\n\"Yes,\" said the bearded man. \"At the very beginning, seven years ago, she threw herself at two soldiers standing guard over the crypt. One escaped-\"\n\n\"And then,\" interrupted Velerad, \"there was another, the miller she attacked near the town. You remember...?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The following day, late in the evening, the miller was brought to the small chamber above the guardhouse allocated to the witcher. He was led in by a soldier in a hooded coat.\n\nThe conversation did not yield any significant results. The miller was terrified; he mumbled and stammered, and his scars told the witcher more than he did. The striga could open her jaws impressively wide and had extremely sharp teeth, including very long upper fangs– four of them, two on each side. Her claws were sharper than a wildcat's, but less curved. And it was only because of that the miller had managed to tear himself away.\n\nHaving finished his examination Geralt nodded to the miller and soldier, dismissing them. The soldier pushed the peasant through the door and lowered his hood. It was Foltest himself.\n\n\"Sit, do not getup,\" said the king. \"This visit is unofficial. Are you happy with the interview? I heard you were at the palace this morning.\"\n\n\"Yes, your Majesty.\"\n\n\"When will you set about your task?\"\n\n\"It is four days until the full moon. After that.\"\n\n\"You prefer to have a look at her yourself beforehand?\"\n\n\"There is no need. But having had her fill the-the princess will be less active.\"\n\n\"Striga, master witcher, striga. Let us not play at diplomacy. She will be a princess afterwards. And that is what I have come to talk about. Answer me unofficially, briefly and clearly: will it work or not? Don't hide behind your code. '\n\nGeralt rubbed his brow.\n\n\"I confirm, your Majesty, that the spell might be reversed. And, unless I am mistaken, it can be done by spending the night at the palace. The third crowing of the cock, as long as it catches the striga outside her sarcophagus, will end the spell. That is what is usually done with strigas.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So simple?\"\n\n\"It is not simple. First you have to survive the night. Then there are exceptions to the rule, for example, not one night but three. Consecutively. There are also cases which are... well... hopeless.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Foltest bristled. \"I keep hearing that from some people. Kill the monster because it's an incurable case. Master witcher, I am sure they have already spoken to you. Am I right? Hack the man-eater to death without anymore fuss, at the beginning, and tell the king nothing else could be done. I won't pay, but they will. Very convenient. And cheap. Because the king will order the witcher beheaded or hanged and the gold will remain in their pockets.\"\n\n\"The king unconditionally orders the witcher to be beheaded?\" Geralt grimaced.\n\nFoltest looked the Rivian in the eyes fora long while.\n\n\"The king does not know,\" he finally said. \"But the witcher should bear such an eventuality in mind.\"\n\nGeralt was silent fora moment. \"I intend to do what is in my power,\" he said. \"But if it goes badly I will defend my life. Your Majesty, you must also be prepared for such an eventuality.\"\n\nFoltest got up. \"You do not understand me. It's obvious you'll kill her if it becomes necessary, whether I like it or not. Because otherwise she'll kill you, surely and inevitably. I won't punish anyone who kills her in self-defence. But I will not allow her to be killed without trying to save her. There have already been attempts to set fire to the old palace. They shot at her with arrows, dug pits and set traps and snares, until I hung a few of her attackers. But that is not the point. Witcher, listen!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm listening. '\n\n\"After the third crowing of the cock, there will be no striga, if I understand correctly. What will there be?\"\n\n\"If all goes well, a fourteen-year-old girl.\"\n\n\"With red eyes? Crocodile's teeth? '\n\n\"A normal fourteen-year-old. Except that...\"\n\n\"Well?\"\n\n\"Physically.\"\n\n\"I see. And mentally? Everyday, a bucket of blood for breakfast? A little girl's thigh? '\n\n\"No. Mentally... There is no telling. On the level, I think, of a three-or four-year-old child. She'll require loving care fora long while. '\n\n\"That's obvious. Witcher? '\n\n\"I'm listening. '\n\n\"Can it happen to her again? Later on?\"\n\nGeralt was silent.\n\n\"Aha,\" said the king. \"It can. And what then?\"\n\n\"Should she die after along swoon lasting several days, her body will have to be burned. Quickly.\"\n\nFoltest grew gloomy.\n\n\"I do not think it will come to that,\" added Geralt. \"Just to be sure, I will give you some instructions, your Majesty, to lessen the danger.\"\n\n\"Right now? Is it not too soon, master witcher? And if-\"\n\n\"Right now,\" interrupted the Rivian. \"Many things may happen, your Majesty. It could be that you'll find a princess in the morning, the spell already broken, and my corpse. '\n\n\"Even so? Despite my permission to defend yourself? Which, it seems, wasn't that important to you. '\n\n\"This is a serious matter, your Majesty. The risk is great. That is why you must listen: the princess should always wear a sapphire around her neck, or better, an inclusion, on a silver chain. Day and night.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is an inclusion?\"\n\n\"A sapphire with a pocket of air trapped within the stone. Aside from that, every now and then you should burn juniper, broom and aspen in the fireplace of her chamber.\"\n\nFoltest grew pensive. \"I thank you for your advice, witcher. I will pay heed if-And now listen tome carefully. If you find the case is hopeless, kill her. If you undo the spell but the girl is not... normal. If you have a shadow of a doubt as to whether you have been entirely successful, kill her. Do not worry, you have nothing to fear from me. I'll shout at you in front of others, banish you from the palace and the town, nothing more. Of course I won't give you the reward, but maybe you'll manage to negotiate something from you know who. '\n\nThey were both quiet fora while.\n\n\"Geralt.\" For the first time Foltest called the witcher by his name.\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"How much truth is therein the rumour that the child is as she is because Adda was my sister?\"\n\n\"Not much. Aspell has to be cast, they don't cast themselves. But I think your congress with your sister was the reason the spell was cast, and this is the result. '\n\n\"As I thought. That is what some of the Knowing Ones said, although not all of them. Geralt? Where do such things come from? Spells, magic?\"\n\n\"I don't know, your Majesty. Knowing Ones study the causes of such phenomena. For us witchers the knowledge that concentrated will can cause such phenomena is enough. That and the knowledge to fight them. '\n\n\"And kill them?\"\n\n\"Usually. Besides, that is what we're usually paid for. Only a few demand the reversal of spells, your Majesty. As a rule, people simply want to defend themselves from danger. If the monster has men on its conscience then revenge can also come into play. '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The king got up, took a few paces across the chamber, and stopped in front of the witcher's sword hanging on the wall.\n\n\"With this?\" he asked, not looking at Geralt.\n\n\"No. That is for men.\"\n\n\"So I heard. Do you know what, Geralt? I'm going to the crypt with you. '\n\n\"Out of the question.\"\n\nFoltest turned, his eyes glinted. \"Do you know, sorcerer, that I have not seen her? Neither after she was born, nor later. I was afraid. I may never see her, am I not right? At least I have the right to see my daughter while you're murdering her. '\n\n\"I repeat, it's out of the question. It is certain death. For meas well as you. If my attention, my will falters-No, your Majesty. '\n\nFoltest turned away, started towards the door. Fora moment Geralt thought he would leave without a word, without a parting gesture, but the king stopped and looked at him.\n\n\"You inspire trust,\" he said, \"although I know what a rogue you are. I was told what happened at the tavern. I'm sure you killed those thugs solely for word to spread, to shock people, to shock me. It's obvious that you could have dealt with them without killing. I'm afraid I'll never know whether you are going thereto save my daughter, or to kill her. But I agree to it. I have to agree. Do you know why?\"\n\nGeralt did not reply.\n\n\"Because I think,\" said the king, \"I think that she is suffering. Am I not right?\"\n\nThe witcher fixed his penetrating eyes on the king. He didn't confirm it, didn't nod, didn't make the slightest gesture, but Foltest knew. He knew the answer." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt looked out of the palace window for the last time. Dusk was falling rapidly. Beyond the lake the distant lights of Wyzim twinkled. There was a wilderness around the old palace– a strip of no-man's land with which, over seven years, the town had cut itself off from this dangerous place, leaving nothing but a few ruins, rotten beams and the remains of a gap-toothed palisade which had obviously not been worth dismantling and moving. As faraway as possible– at the opposite end of the settlement– the king had built his new residence. The stout tower of his new palace loomed black in the distance, against the darkening blue of the sky.\n\nIn one of the empty, plundered chambers, the witcher returned to the dusty table at which he was preparing, calmly and meticulously. He knew he had plenty of time. The striga would not leave her crypt before midnight.\n\nOn the table in front of him he had a small chest with metal fittings. He opened it. Inside, packed tightly in compartments lined with dried grass, stood small vials of dark glass. The witcher removed three.\n\nFrom the floor, he picked up an oblong packet thickly wrapped in sheep's skins and fastened with a leather strap. He unwrapped it and pulled out a sword with an elaborate hilt, in a black, shiny scabbard covered with rows of runic signs and symbols. He drew the blade, which lit up with a pure shine of mirror-like brightness. It was pure silver.\n\nGeralt whispered an incantation and drank, one after the other, the contents of two vials, placing his left hand on the blade of the sword after each sip. Then, wrapping himself tightly in his black coat, he sat down on the floor. There were no chairs in the chamber, or in the rest of the palace." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He sat motionless, his eyes closed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His breathing, at first even, suddenly quickened, became rasping and tense. And then stopped completely. The mixture which helped the witcher gain full control of his body was chiefly made up of veratrum, stramonium, hawthorn and spurge. The other ingredients had no name in any human language. For anyone who was not, like Geralt, inured to it from childhood, it would have been lethal poison.\n\nThe witcher turned his head abruptly. In the silence his hearing, sharpened beyond measure, easily picked out a rustle of footsteps through the courtyard overgrown with stinging nettles. It could not be the striga. The steps were too light. Geralt threw his sword across his back, hid his bundle in the hearth of the ruined chimney-place and, silent as a bat, ran downstairs.\n\nIt was still light enough in the courtyard for the approaching man to seethe witcher's face. The man, Ostrit, backed away abruptly; an involuntary grimace of terror and repulsion contorted his lips. The witcher smiled wryly– he knew what he looked like. After drinking a mixture of banewart, monk's hood and eyebright the face takes on the colour of chalk, and the pupils fill the entire iris. But the mixture enables one to see in the deepest darkness, and this is what Geralt wanted.\n\nOstrit quickly regained control.\n\n\"You look as if you were already a corpse, witcher,\" he said. \"From fear, no doubt. Don't be afraid. I bring you reprieve. '\n\nThe witcher did not reply.\n\n\"Don't you hear what I say, you Rivian charlatan? You're saved. And rich.\" Ostrit hefted a sizeable purse in his hand and threw it at Geralt's feet.\"A thousand orens. Take it, get on your horse and get out of here! '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Rivian still said nothing.\n\n\"Don't gawp at me! \"Ostrit raised his voice.\"And don't waste my time. I have no intention of standing here until midnight. Don't you understand? I do not wish you to undo the spell. No, you haven't guessed. I am not in league with Velerad and Segelin. I don't want you to kill her. You are simply to leave. Everything is to stay as it is. '\n\nThe witcher did not move. He did not want the magnate to realise how fast his movements and reactions now were. It was quickly growing dark. A relief, as even the semi-darkness of dusk was too bright for his dilated pupils.\n\n\"And why, sir, is everything to remain as it is?\" he asked, trying to enunciate each word slowly.\n\n\"Now, that,\" Ostrit raised his head proudly, \"should really be of damn little concern to you.\"\n\n\"And what if I already know?\"\n\n\"Go on.\"\n\n\"It will be easier to remove Foltest from the throne if the striga frightens the people even more? If the royal madness completely disgusts both magnates and common folk, am I right? I came hereby way of Redania and Novigrad. There is much talk there that there are those in Wyzim who look to King Vizimir as their saviour and true monarch. But I, Lord Ostrit, do not care about politics, or the successions to thrones, or revolutions in palaces. I am hereto accomplish my task. Have you never heard of a sense of responsibility and plain honesty? About professional ethics?\"\n\n\"Careful to whom you speak, you vagabond!\" Ostrit yelled furiously, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. \"I have had enough of this. I am not accustomed to hold such discussions! Look at you– ethics, codes of practice, morality?! Who are you to talk? A brigand who's barely arrived before he starts murdering men? Who bends double to Foltest and behind his back bargains with Velerad like a hired thug? And you dare to turn your nose up at me, you serf? Play at being a Knowing One? A Magician? You scheming witcher! Begone before I run the flat of my sword across your gob! '" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The witcher did not stir. He stood calmly.\n\n\"You'd better leave, Lord Ostrit, \"he said.\"It's growing dark.\"\n\nOstrit took a step back, drew his sword in a flash.\n\n\"You asked for this, you sorcerer. I'll kill you. Your tricks won't help you. I carry a turtle-stone.\"\n\nGeralt smiled. The reputation of turtle-stone was as mistaken as it was popular. But the witcher was not going to lose his strength on spells, much less expose his silver sword to contact with Ostrit's blade. He dived under the whirling blade and, with the heel of his hand and his silver-studded cuff, hit him in the temple." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ostrit quickly regained consciousness and looked around in the total darkness. He noticed that he was tied up. He did not see Geralt standing right beside him. But he realised where he was and let out a prolonged, terrifying howl.\n\n\"Keep quiet,\" said the witcher. \"Otherwise you'll lure her out before her time. '\n\n\"You damned murderer! Where are you? Untie me immediately, you louse! You'll hang for this, you son-of-a-bitch! '\n\n\"Quiet.\"\n\nOstrit panted heavily.\n\n\"You're leaving me hereto be devoured by her! Tied up? ' he asked, quieter now, whispering a vile invective.\n\n\"No,\" said the witcher. \"I'll let you go. But not now. '\n\n\"You scoundrel,\" hissed Ostrit. \"To distract the striga?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\nOstrit didn't say anything. He stopped wriggling and lay quietly.\n\n\"Witcher?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"It's true that I wanted to overthrow Foltest. I'm not the only one. But I am the only one who wanted him dead. I wanted him to die in agony, to go mad, to rot alive. Do you know why?\"\n\nGeralt remained silent.\n\n\"I loved Adda. The king's sister. The king's mistress. The king's trollop. I loved her-Witcher, are you there? '\n\n\"I am.\"\n\n\"I know what you're thinking. But it wasn't like that. Believe me, I didn't cast any spells. I don't know anything about magic. Only once in anger did I say... Only once. Witcher? Are you listening?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am.\"\n\n\"It's his mother, the old queen. It must be her. She couldn't watch him and Adda-It wasn't me. I only once, you know, tried to persuade them but Adda-Witcher! I was besotted, and said... Witcher? Was it me? Me? '\n\n\"It doesn't matter anymore. '\n\n\"Witcher? Is it nearly midnight?\"\n\n\"It's close. '\n\n\"Let me go. Give me more time.\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\nOstrit did not hear the scrape of the tomb lid being moved aside, but the witcher did. He leant over and, with his dagger, cut the magnate's bonds. Ostrit did not wait for the word. He jumped up, numb, hobbled clumsily, and ran. His eyes had grown accustomed enough to the darkness for him to see his way from the main hall to the exit.\n\nThe slab blocking the entrance to the crypt opened and fell to the floor with a thud. Geralt, prudently behind the staircase balustrade, saw the misshapen figure of the striga speeding swiftly and unerringly in the direction of Ostrit's receeding footsteps. Not the slightest sound issued from the striga.\n\nA terrible, quivering, frenzied scream tore the night, shook the old walls, continued rising and falling, vibrating. The witcher couldn't make out exactly how faraway it was– his sharpened hearing deceived him– but he knew that the striga had caught up with Ostrit quickly. Too quickly.\n\nHe stepped into the middle of the hall, stood right at the entrance to the crypt. He threw down his coat, twitched his shoulders, adjusted the position of his sword, pulled on his gauntlets. He still had sometime. He knew that the striga, although well fed after the last full moon, would not readily abandon Ostrit's corpse. The heart and liver were, for her, valuable reserves of nutrition for the long periods spent in lethargic sleep." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The witcher waited. By his count, there were about three hours left until dawn. The cock's crow could only mislead him. Besides, there were probably no cocks in the neighbourhood.\n\nHe heard her. She was trudging slowly, shuffling along the floor. And then he saw her.\n\nThe description had been accurate. The disproportionately large headset on a short neck was surrounded by a tangled, curly halo of reddish hair. Her eyes shone in the darkness like an animal's. The striga stood motionless, her gaze fixed on Geralt. Suddenly she opened her jaws– as if proud of her rows of pointed white teeth– then snapped them shut with a crack like a chest being closed. And leapt, slashing at the witcher with her bloodied claws.\n\nGeralt jumped to the side, spun a swift pirouette. The striga rubbed against him, also spun around, slicing through the air with her talons. She didn't lose her balance and attacked anew, mid-spin, gnashing her teeth fractions of an inch from Geralt's chest. The Rivian jumped away, changing the direction of his spin with a fluttering pirouette to confuse the striga. Ashe leapt away he dealt a hard blow to the side of her head with the silver spikes studding the knuckles of his gauntlet.\n\nThe striga roared horribly, filling the palace with a booming echo, fell to the ground, froze and started to howl hollowly and furiously.\n\nThe witcher smiled maliciously. His first attempt, as he had hoped, had gone well. Silver was fatal to the striga, as it was for most monsters brought into existence through magic. So there was a chance: the beast was like the others, and that boded well for lifting the spell, while the silver sword would, as a last resort, assure his life." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The striga was in no hurry with her next attack. She approached slowly, baring her fangs, dribbling repulsively. Geralt backed away and, carefully placing his feet, traced a semi-circle. By slowing and quickening his movements he distracted the striga, making it difficult for her to leap. Ashe walked the witcher unwound along, strong silver chain, weighted at the end.\n\nThe moment the striga tensed and leapt the chain whistled through the air and, coiling like a snake, twined itself around the monster's shoulders, neck and head. The striga's jump became a tumble, and she let out an ear-piercing whistle. She thrashed around on the floor, howling horribly with fury or from the burning pain inflicted by the despised metal. Geralt was content– if he wanted he could kill the striga without great difficulty. But the witcher did not draw his sword. Nothing in the striga's behaviour had given him reason to think she might bean incurable case. Geralt moved to a safer distance and, without letting the writhing shape on the floor out of his sight, breathed deeply, focused himself.\n\nThe chain snapped. The silver links scattered like rain in all directions, ringing against the stone. The striga, blind with fury, tumbled to the attack, roaring. Geralt waited calmly and, with his raised right hand, traced the Sign of Aard in front of him.\n\nThe striga fell back as if hit by a mallet but kept her feet, extended her talons, bared her fangs. Her hair stood on end and fluttered as if she were walking against a fierce wind. With difficulty, one rasping step at a time, she slowly advanced. But she did advance.\n\nGeralt grew uneasy. He did not expect such a simple Sign to paralyse the striga entirely but neither did he expect the beast to overcome it so easily. He could not hold the Sign for long, it was too exhausting, and the striga had no more than ten steps to go. He lowered the Sign suddenly, and sprung aside. The striga, taken by surprise, flew forward, lost her balance, fell, slid along the floor and tumbled down the stairs into the crypt's entrance, yawning in the floor." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her infernal scream reverberated from below.\n\nTo gain time Geralt jumped onto the stairs leading to the gallery. He had not even climbed halfway up when the striga ran out of the crypt, speeding along like an enormous black spider. The witcher waited until she had run up the stairs after him, then leapt over the balustrade. The striga turned on the stairs, sprang and flew at him in an amazing ten-metre leap. She did not let herself be deceived by his pirouettes this time; twice her talons left their mark on the Rivian's leather tunic. But another desperately hard blow from the silver spiked gauntlet threw the striga aside, shook her. Geralt, feeling fury building inside him, swayed, bent backwards and, with a mighty kick, knocked the beast off her legs.\n\nThe roar she gave was louder than all the previous ones. Even the plaster crumbled from the ceiling.\n\nThe striga sprang up, shaking with uncontrolled anger and lust for murder. Geralt waited. He drew his sword, traced circles with it in the air, and skirted the striga, taking care that the movement of his sword was not in rhythm with his steps. The striga did not jump. She approached slowly, following the bright streak of the blade with her eyes.\n\nGeralt stopped abruptly, froze with his sword raised. The striga, disconcerted, also stopped. The witcher traced a slow semi-circle with the blade, took a step in the striga's direction. Then another. Then he leapt, feigning a whirling movement with his sword above her head.\n\nThe striga curled up, retreated in a zigzag. Geralt was close again, the blade shimmering in his hand. His eyes lit up with an ominous glow, a hoarse roar tore through his clenched teeth. The striga backed away, pushed by the power of concentrated hatred, anger and violence which emanated from the attacking man and struck her in waves, penetrating her mind and body. Terrified and pained by feelings unknown to her she let out a thin, shaking squeak, turned on the spot and ran off in a desperate, crazy escape down the dark tangle of the palace's corridors." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Geralt stood quivering in the middle of the hall. Alone. It had taken along time, he thought, before this dance on the edge of an abyss, this mad, macabre ballet of a fight, had achieved the desired effect, allowed him to psychically become one with his opponent, to reach the underlayers of concentrated will which permeated the striga. The evil, twisted will from which the striga was born. The witcher shivered at the memory of taking on that evil to redirect it, as if in a mirror, against the monster. Never before had he come across such a concentration of hatred and murderous frenzy, not even from basilisks, who enjoyed a ferocious reputation for it.\n\nAll the better, he thought as he walked toward the crypt entrance and the blackness that spread from it like an enormous puddle. All the better, all the stronger, was the blow received by the striga. This would give him a little more time until the beast recovered from the shock. The witcher doubted whether he could repeat such an effort. The elixirs were weakening and it was still along time until dawn. But the striga could not return to her crypt before first light, or all his trouble would come to nothing.\n\nHe went down the stairs. The crypt was not large; there was room for three stone sarcophagi. The slab covering the first was half pushed aside. Geralt pulled the third vial from beneath his tunic, quickly drank its contents, climbed into the tomb and stretched out in it. Ashe had expected, it was a double tomb– for mother and daughter.\n\nHe had only just pulled the cover closed when he heard the striga's roar again. He lay on his back next to Adda's mummified corpse and traced the Sign of Yrden on the inside of the slab. He laid his sword on his chest, stood a tiny hourglass filled with phosphorescent sand next to it and crossed his arms. He no longer heard the striga's screams as she searched the palace. He had gradually stopped hearing anything as the true-love and celandine began to work." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When Geralt opened his eyes the sand had passed through the hourglass, which meant his sleep had been even longer than he had intended. He pricked up his ears, and heard nothing. His senses were now functioning normally.\n\nHe took hold of his sword and, murmuring an incantation, ran his hand across the lid of the sarcophagus. He then moved the slab slightly, a couple of inches.\n\nSilence.\n\nHe pushed the lid further, sat, holding his weapon at the ready, and lifted his head above the tomb. The crypt was dark but the witcher knew that outside dawn was breaking. He struck alight, lit a miniature lamp and lifted it, throwing strange shadows across the walls of the crypt.\n\nIt was empty.\n\nHe scrambled from the sarcophagus, aching, numb, cold. And then he saw her. She was lying on her back next to the tomb, naked and unconscious.\n\nShe was rather ugly. Slim with small pointed breasts, and dirty. Her hair– flaxen-red– reached almost to her waist. Standing the lamp on the slab, he knelt beside her and leant over. Her lips were pale and her face was bloody where he had hither cheekbone. Geralt removed his gloves, put his sword aside and, without any fuss, drew up her top lip with his finger. Her teeth were normal. He reached for her hand which was buried in her tangled hair. Before he took it he saw her open eyes. Too late.\n\nShe swiped him across the neck with her talons, cutting him deeply. Blood splashed onto her face. She howled, striking him in the eyes with her other hand. He fell on her, grabbing her by the wrists, nailing her to the floor. She gnashed her teeth– which were now too short– in front of his face. He butted her in the face with his forehead and pinned her down harder. She had lost her former strength; she could only writhe beneath him, howling, spitting out blood– his blood– which was pouring over her mouth. His blood was draining away quickly. There was no time. The witcher cursed and bit her hard on the neck, just below the ear. He dug his teeth in and clenched them until her inhuman howling became a thin, despairing scream and then a choking sob– the cry of a hurt fourteen-year-old girl." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He let her go when she stopped moving, got to his knees, tore apiece of canvas from his sleeve pocket and pressed it to his neck. He felt for his sword, held the blade to the unconscious girl's throat, and leant over her hand. The nails were dirty, broken, bloodied but... normal. Completely normal.\n\nThe witcher got up with difficulty. The sticky-wet greyness of early morning was flooding in through the crypt's entrance. He made a move towards the stairs but staggered and sat down heavily on the floor. Blood was pouring through the drenched canvas onto his hands, running down his sleeve. He unfastened his tunic, slit his shirt, tore and ripped rags from it and tied them around his neck, knowing that he didn't have much time, that he would soon faint...\n\nHe succeeded. And fainted.\n\nIn Wyzim, beyond the lake, a cock, ruffling his feathers in the cold damp, crowed hoarsely for the third time." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He saw the whitened walls and beamed ceiling of the small chamber above the guardroom. He moved his head, grimacing with pain, and moaned. His neck was bandaged, thickly, thoroughly, professionally.\n\n\"Lie still, witcher,\" said Velerad. \"Lie, do not move.\"\n\n\"My... sword...\"\n\n\"Yes, yes. Of course, what is most important is your witcher's silver sword. It's here, don't worry. Both the sword and your little trunk. And the three thousand orens. Yes, yes, don't utter a word. It is I who am an old fool and you the wise witcher. Foltest has been repeating it over and over for the last two days.\"\n\n\"Two-\"\n\n\"Oh yes, two. She slit your neck open quite thoroughly. One could see everything you have inside there. You lost a great deal of blood. Fortunately we hurried to the palace straight after the third crowing of the cock. Nobody slept in Wyzim that night. It was impossible, you made a terrible noise. Does my talking tire you?\"\n\n\"The prin... cess?\"\n\n\"The princess is like a princess. Thin. And somewhat dull-witted. She weeps incessantly and wets her bed. But Foltest says this will change. I don't think it'll change for the worse, do you, Geralt?\"\n\nThe witcher closed his eyes.\n\n\"Good. I take my leave now. Rest.\" Velerad got up. \"Geralt? Before I go, tell me: why did you try to bite her to death? Eh? Geralt?\"\n\nThe witcher was asleep." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Geralt.\"\n\nHe raised his head, torn from sleep. The sun was already high and forced blinding golden rays through the shutters, penetrating the chamber with tentacles of light. The witcher shaded his eyes with his hand in an unnecessary, instinctive reflex which he had never managed to shake off– all he needed to do, after all, was narrow his pupils into vertical slits.\n\n\"It's late, \"said Nenneke, opening the shutters.\"You've slept in. Off with you, Iola.\"\n\nThe girl sat up suddenly and leant out of bed to take her mantle from the floor. Geralt felt a trickle of cool saliva on his shoulder, where her lips had been a moment ago.\n\n\"Wait...\" he said hesitantly. She looked at him, quickly turned away.\n\nShe had changed. There was nothing of the water nymph in her anymore, nothing of the luminous, chamomile-scented apparition she had been at dawn. Her eyes were blue, not black. And she had freckles– on her nose, her neckline, her shoulders. They weren't unattractive, they suited her complexion and reddish hair. But he hadn't seen them at dawn, when she had been his dream. With shame he realised he felt resentment towards her, resentment that she hadn't remained a dream, and that he would never forgive himself for it.\n\n\"Wait,\" he repeated. \"Iola... I wanted-\"\n\n\"Don't speak to her, Geralt, \"said Nenneke.\"She won't answer you anyway. Off with you, Iola.\"\n\nWrapped in her mantle the girl pattered towards the door, her bare feet slapping the floor– troubled, flushed, awkward. No longer reminding him, in anyway, of-" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "In your role as the author's collaborator, continue the tale.\nTags: fantasy, heist, crime\nAuthor: Scott Lynch\nTitle: The Lies of Locke Lamora\nChapter: 2" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Precious seconds passed; the sun was high and bright in a sky scalded free of clouds, and the grime of the alley clung like wet cement to the legs of Locke's breeches." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nearby, Jean Tannen lay in the same moist muck while Galdo pretended (mostly) to kick his ribs in. He'd been merrily kicking away for at least a minute, just as long as his twin brother had supposedly been strangling Locke.\n\nDon Salvara was supposed to pass the mouth of the alley at any second and, ideally, rush into rescue Locke and Jean from their'assailants.\" At this rate, he would end up rescuing them from boredom.\n\n\"Gods,\" Calo whispered, bending his mouth to Locke's ear as though he might be hissing some demand, \"where the hell is that damn Salvara? And where's Bug? We can't keep this shit up all day; other people do walk by the mouth of this damned alley!\"\n\n\"Keep strangling me,\" Locke whispered. \"Just think of twenty thousand full crowns and keep strangling me. I can choke all day if I have to.\"\n\nEVERYTHING HAD gone beautifully that morning in the run-up to the game itself, even allowing for the natural prickliness of a young thief finally allowed apart in his first big score.\n\n\"Of course I know where I'm supposed to be when the action starts,\" Bug whined. \"I've spent more time perched upon that temple roof than I did in my mother's gods-damned womb!\"\n\nJean Tannen let his right hand trail in the warm water of the canal while he took another bite of the sour marsh apple held in his left. The forward gunwale of the flat-bottomed barge was a choice spot for relaxation in the watered-wine light of early morning, allowing all sixteen stone of Jean's frame to sprawl comfortably-keg belly, heavy arms, bandy legs, and all. The only other person (and the one doing all of the work) in the empty barge was Bug: a lanky, mop-headed twelve-year-old braced against the steering pole at the stern." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Your mother was in an understandable hurry to get rid of you, Bug.\" Jean's voice was soft and even and wildly incongruous. He spoke like a teacher of music or a copier of scrolls. \"We're not. So indulge me once more with proof of your penetrating comprehension of our game.\"\n\n\"Dammit,\" Bug replied, giving the barge another push against the gentle current of the seaward-flowing canal. \"You and Locke and Calo and Galdo are down in the alley between Fortunate Waters and the gardens for the Temple of Nara, right? I'm upon the roof of the temple across the way.\"\n\n\"Goon,\" Jean said around a mouthful of marsh apple. \"Where's Don Salvara?\"\n\nOther barges, heavily laden with everything from ale casks to bleating cows, were slipping past the two of them on the clay-colored water of the canal. Bug was poling them north along Camorr's main commercial waterway, the Via Camorrazza, toward the Shifting Market, and the city was lurching into life around them.\n\nThe leaning gray tenements of water-slick stone were spitting their inhabitants out into the sunlight and the rising summer warmth. The month was Parthis, meaning that the night-sweat of condensation already boiling off the buildings as a soupy mist would be greatly missed by the cloudless white heat of early afternoon.\n\n\"He's coming out of the Temple of Fortunate Waters, like he does every Penance Day right around noon. He's got two horses and one man with him, if we're lucky.\"\n\n\"A curious ritual,\" Jean said. \"Why would he do a thing like that?\"\n\n\"Deathbed promise to his mother.\" Bug drove his pole down into the canal, struggled against it fora moment, and managed to shove them along once more. \"She kept the Vadran religion after she married the old Don Salvara. So he leaves an offering at the Vadran temple once a week and gets home as fast as he can so nobody pays too much attention to him. Dammit, Jean, I already know this shit. Why would I be here if you didn't trust me? And why am I the one who gets to push this stupid barge all the way to the market?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Oh, you can stop poling the barge anytime you can beat me hand to hand three falls out of five.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean grinned, showing two rows of crooked brawler's teeth in a face that looked as though someone had set it on an anvil and tried to pound it into a more pleasing shape. \"Besides, you're an apprentice in a proud trade, learning under the finest and most demanding masters it has to offer. Getting all the shit-work is excellent for your moral education.\"\n\n\"You haven't given meany bloody moral education.\"\n\n\"Yes. Well, that's probably because Locke and I have been dodging our own for most of our lives now. As for why we're going over the plan again, let me remind you that one good screwup will make the fate of those poor bastards look sunny in comparison to what we'll get.\"\n\nJean pointed atone of the city's slop wagons, halted on a canal-side boulevard to receive along dark stream of night soil from the upper window of a public alehouse. These wagons were crewed by petty criminals whose offenses were too meager to justify continual incarceration in the Palace of Patience. Shackled to their wagons and huddled in the alleged protection of long leather ponchos, they were let out each morning to enjoy what sun they could when they weren't cursing the dubious accuracy with which several thousand Camorri emptied their chamber pots.\n\n\"I won't screw it up, Jean.\" Bug shook his thoughts like an empty coin purse, searching desperately for something to say that would make him sound as calm and assured as he imagined Jean and all the older Gentlemen Bastards always were-but the mouth of most twelve-year-olds far outpaces the mind. \"I just won't, I bloody won't, I promise.\"\n\n\"Good lad,\" Jean said. \"Glad to hear it. But just what is it that you won't screw up?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bug sighed. \"I make the signal when Salvara's on his way out of the Temple of Fortunate Waters. I keep an eye out for anyone else trying to walk past the alley, especially the city watch. If anybody tries it, I jump down from the temple roof with a longsword and cut their bloody heads off where they stand.\"\n\n\"You what?\"\n\n\"I said I distract them anyway I can. You going deaf, Jean?\"\n\nAline of tall countinghouses slid past on their left, each displaying lacquered woodwork, silk awnings, marble facades, and other ostentatious touches along the waterfront. There were deep roots of money and power sunk into that row of three-and four-story buildings. Coin-Kisser's Row was the oldest and goldest financial district on the continent. The place was as steeped in influence and elaborate rituals as the glass heights of the Five Towers, in which the duke and the Grand Families sequestered themselves from the city they ruled.\n\n\"Move us up against the bank just under the bridges, Bug.\" Jean gestured vaguely with his apple. \"His Nibs will be waiting to come aboard.\"\n\nTwo Elderglass arches bridged the Via Camorrazza right in the middle of Coin-Kisser's Row-a high and narrow catbridge for foot traffic and a lower, wider one for wagons. The seamless brilliance of the alien glass looked like nothing so much as liquid diamond, gently arched by giant hands and left to harden over the canal. On the right bank was the Fauria, a crowded island of multitiered stone apartments and rooftop gardens. Wooden wheels churned white against the stone embankment, drawing canal water up into a network of troughs and viaducts that crisscrossed over the Fauria's streets at every level." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bug slid the barge over to a rickety quay just beneath the catbridge; from the faint and slender shadow of this arch a man jumped down to the quay, dressed (as Bug and Jean were) in oil-stained leather breeches and a rough cotton shirt. His next nonchalant leap took him into the barge, which barely rocked at his arrival.\n\n\"Salutations to you, Master Jean Tannen, and profuse congratulations on the fortuitous timing of your arrival!\" said the newcomer.\n\n\"Ah, well, felicitations to you in respect of the superlative grace of your entry into our very humble boat, Master Lamora.\" Jean punctuated this statement by popping the remains of his apple into his mouth, stem and all, and producing a wet crunching noise.\n\n\"Creeping shits, man.\" Locke Lamora stuck out his tongue. \"Must you do that? You know the black alchemists make fish poison from the seeds of those damn things.\"\n\n\"Lucky me,\" said Jean after swallowing the last bit of masticated pulp, \"not being a fish.\"\n\nLocke was a medium man in every respect-medium height, medium build, medium-dark hair cropped short above a face that was neither handsome nor memorable. He looked like a proper Therin, though perhaps a bit less olive and ruddy than Jean or Bug; in another light he might have passed fora very tan Vadran. His bright gray eyes alone had any sense of distinction; he was a man the gods might have shaped deliberately to be overlooked. He settled down against the left-hand gunwale and crossed his legs.\n\n\"Hello to you as well, Bug! I knew we could count on you to take pity on your elders and let them rest in the sun while you do the hard work with the pole.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Jean's a lazy old bastard is what it is,\" Bug said. \"And if I don't pole the barge, he'll knock my teeth out the back of my head.\"\n\n\"Jean is the gentlest soul in Camorr, and you wound him with your accusations,\" said Locke. \"Now he'll be up all night crying.\"\n\n\"I would have been up all night anyway,\" Jean added, \"crying from the ache of rheumatism and lighting candles toward off evil vapors.\"\n\n\"Which is not to say that our bones don't creak by day, my cruel apprentice.\" Locke massaged his kneecaps. \"We're at least twice your age-which is prodigious for our profession.\"\n\n\"The Daughters of Aza Guilla have tried to perform a corpse-blessing on me six times this week,\" said Jean. \"You're lucky Locke and I are still spry enough to take you with us when we run a game.\"\n\nTo anyone beyond hearing range, Locke and Jean and Bug might have looked like the crew of a for-hire barge, slacking their way toward a cargo pickup at the junction of the Via Camorrazza and the Angevine River. As Bug poled them closer and closer to the Shifting Market, the water was getting thicker with such barges, and with sleek black cockleshell boats, and battered watercraft of every description, not all of them doing a good job of staying afloat or under control.\n\n\"Speaking of our game,\" said Locke, \"how is our eager young apprentice's understanding of his place in the scheme of things?\"\n\n\"I've been reciting it to Jean all morning,\" said Bug.\n\n\"And the conclusion is?\"\n\n\"I've got it down cold!\" Bug heaved at the pole with all of his strength, driving them between a pair of high-walled floating gardens with inches to spare on either side. The scents of jasmine and oranges drifted down over them as their barge slipped beneath the protruding branches of one of the gardens; a wary attendant peeked over one garden-boat's wall, staff in hand to fend them off if necessary. The big barges were probably hauling transplants to some noble's orchard upriver." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Down cold, and I won't screw it up. I promise! I know my place, and I know the signals. I won't screw it up!\"\n\nCALO WAS shaking Locke with real vigor, and Locke's performance as his victim was a virtuoso one, but still the moments dragged by. They were all trapped in their pantomime like figures out of the richly inventive hells of Therin theology: a pair of thieves destined to spend all eternity stuck in an alley, mugging victims that never passed out or gave up their money.\n\n\"Are you as alarmed as I am?\" Calo whispered.\n\n\"Just stay in character,\" Locke hissed. \"You can pray and strangle at the same time.\"\n\nThere was a high-pitched scream from their right, echoing across the cobbles and walls of the Temple District. It was followed by shouts and the creaking tread of men in battle harness-but these sounds moved away from the mouth of the alley, not toward it.\n\n\"That sounded like Bug,\" said Locke.\n\n\"I hope he's just arranging a distraction,\" said Calo, his grip on the rope momentarily slackening. At that instant, a dark shape darted across the gap of sky between the alley's high walls, its fluttering shadow briefly falling over them as it passed.\n\n\"Now what the hell was that, then?\" Calo asked.\n\nOff to their right, someone screamed again.\n\nBUG HAD poled himself, Locke, and Jean from the Via Camorrazza into the Shifting Market right on schedule, just as the vast Elderglass wind chime atop Westwatch was unlashed to catch the breeze blowing in from the sea and ring out the eleventh hour of the morning.\n\nThe Shifting Market was a lake of relatively placid water at the very heart of Camorr, perhaps half a mile in circumference, protected from the rushing flow of the Angevine and the surrounding canals by a series of stone breakwaters. The only real current in the market was human-made, as hundreds upon hundreds of floating merchants slowly and warily followed one another counterclockwise in their boats, jostling for prized positions against the flat-topped breakwaters, which were crowded with buyers and sightseers on foot." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "City watchmen in their mustard-yellow tabards commanded sleek black cutters-each rowed by a dozen shackled prisoners from the Palace of Patience-using long poles and harsh language to maintain several rough channels through the drifting chaos of the market. Through these channels passed the pleasure barges of the nobility, and heavily laden freight barges, and empty ones like that containing the three Gentlemen Bastards, who shopped with their eyes as they sliced through a sea of hope and avarice.\n\nIn just a few lengths of Bug's poling, they passed a family of trinket dealers in ill-kept brown cockleshells, a spice merchant with his wares on a triangular rack in the middle of an awkward circular raft of the sort called a vertola, and a Canal Tree bobbing and swaying on the leather-bladder pontoon raft that supported its roots. These roots trailed in the water, drinking up the piss and effluvia of the busy city; the canopy of rustling emerald leaves cast thousands of punctuated shadows down on the Gentlemen Bastards as they passed, along with the perfume of citrus. The tree (an alchemical hybrid that grew both limes and lemons) was tended by a middle-aged woman and three small children, who scuttled around in the branches throwing down fruit in response to orders from passing boats.\n\nAbove the watercraft of the Shifting Market rose afield of flags and pennants and billowing silk standards, all competing through gaudy colors and symbols to impress their messages on watchful buyers. There were flags adorned with the crude outlines offish or fowl or both; flags adorned with ale mugs and wine bottles and loaves of bread, boots and trousers and threaded tailors'needles, fruits and kitchen instruments and carpenters\" tools and a hundred other goods and services. Here and there, small clusters of chicken-flagged boats or shoe-flagged rafts were locked in close combat, their owners loudly proclaiming the superiority of their respective goods or inferring the bastardy of one another's children, while the watch-boats stood off at a mindful distance, in case anyone should sink or commence a boarding action." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It's a pain sometimes, this pretending to be poor.\" Locke gazed around in reverie, the sort Bug would have been indulging in if the boy hadn't been concentrating on avoiding collision. A barge packed with dozens of yowling housecats in wooden slat cages cut their wake, flagged with a blue pennant on which an artfully rendered dead mouse bled rich scarlet threads through a gaping hole in its throat. \"There's just something about this place. I could almost convince myself that I really did have a pressing need fora pound offish, some bowstrings, old shoes, and anew shovel.\"\n\n\"Fortunately for our credibility,\" said Jean, \"we're coming upon the next major landmark on our way to a fat pile of Don Salvara's money.\" He pointed past the northeastern breakwater of the market, beyond which a row of prosperous-looking waterfront inns and taverns stood between the market and the Temple District.\n\n\"Right as always, Jean. Greed before imagination. Keep us on track.\" Locke added an enthusiastic but superfluous finger to the direction Jean was already pointing. \"Bug! Get us out onto the river, then veer right. One of the twins is going to be waiting for us at the Tumblehome, third inn down on the south bank.\"\n\nBug pushed them north, straining to reach the bottom of the market's basin-which was easily half again as deep as the surrounding canals-with each thrust. They evaded overzealous purveyors of grapefruits and sausage rolls and alchemical light-sticks, and Locke and Jean amused themselves with a favorite game, trying to spot the little pickpockets among the crowds on the breakwaters. The inattention of Camorr's busy thousands still managed to feed the doddering old Thiefmaker in his dank warren under Shades' Hill, nearly twenty years since Locke or Jean had last set foot inside the place." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Once they escaped from the market and onto the river itself, Bug and Jean wordlessly switched places. The fast waters of the Angevine would be better matched against Jean's muscle, and Bug would need to rest his arms for his part in the game to come. As Bug collapsed in Jean's former place at the bow, Locke produced a cinnamon-lemon apparently from thin air and tossed it to the boy. Bug ate it in six bites, dry skin and all, masticating the reddish yellow pulp as grotesquely as possible between his bright, crooked teeth. He grinned.\n\n\"They don't make fish poison from those things, right?\"\n\n\"No,\" Locke said. \"They only make fish poison from things that Jean eats.\"\n\nJean harrumphed. \"A little fish poison puts hair on your chest. Excepting if you're a fish.\"\n\nJean kept them nearly against the southern bank of the Angevine, clear of the depths where the pole couldn't reach. Shafts of hot, pearl-white light flashed down on them as Eldgerglass bridges passed directly between their barge and the still-rising sun. The river was two hundred yards wide, sweating its wetness up into the air along with the smell offish and silt.\n\nTo the north, rippling under the heat-haze, were the orderly slopes of the Alcegrante islands, home to the city's greater commoners and minor nobles. It was a place of walled gardens, elaborate water sculptures, and white stone villas, well off-limits to anyone dressed as Locke and Jean and Bug were. With the sun approaching its zenith, the vast shadows of the Five Towers had withdrawn into the Upper City and were currently nothing more than a rosy stained-glass glow that spilled just over the northern edges of the Alcegrante." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Gods, I love this place,\" Locke said, drumming his fingers against his thighs. \"Sometimes I think this whole city was put here simply because the gods must adore crime. Pickpockets rob the common folk, merchants rob anyone they can dupe, Capa Barsavi robs the robbers and the common folk, the lesser nobles rob nearly everyone, and Duke Nicovante occasionally runs off with his army and robs the shit out of Tal Verrar or Jerem, not to mention what he does to his own nobles and his common folk.\"\n\n\"So that makes us robbers of robbers,\" said Bug, \"who pretend to be robbers working fora robber of other robbers.\"\n\n\"Yes, we do sort of screw the pretty picture up, don't we?\" Locke thought fora few seconds, clicking his tongue against the insides of his cheeks. \"Think of what we do as, ah, a sort of secret taxon nobles with more money than prudence. Hey! Here we are.\"\n\nBeneath the Tumblehome Inn was a wide and well-kept quay with half a dozen mooring posts, none of them currently occupied. The smooth gray embankment was about ten feet high here; broad stone steps led up to street level, as did a cobbled ramp for cargo and horses. Calo Sanza was waiting for them at the edge of the quay, dressed only slightly better than his fellows, with a Gentled horse standing placidly behind him. Locke waved.\n\n\"What's the news?\" Locke cried. Jean's poling was skilled and graceful; the quay was twenty yards away, then ten, and then they were sliding up alongside it with a gentle scraping noise.\n\n\"Galdo got all the stuff packed into the room-it's the Bowsprit Suite on the first floor,\" Calo whispered in response, bending down to Locke and Bug as he picked up the barge's mooring rope." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Calo had dark liquor-colored skin and hairlike an inky slice of night; the tautness of the flesh around his dark eyes was broken only by a fine network of laugh-lines (though anyone who knew the Sanza twins would more readily describe them as smirk-lines). An improbably sharp and hooked nose preceded his good looks like a dagger held at guard position.\n\nOnce he had made the barge fast to a mooring post, Calo tossed to Locke a heavy iron key attached to along tassel of braided red and black silk. At a quality rooming house like the Tumblehome, each private suite's door was guarded by a clockwork lockbox (removable only by some cunning means known to the owners) that could be swapped out from a niche in the door. Each rented room received a random new box and its attendant key. With hundreds of such identical-looking boxes stored behind the polished counter in the reception hall, the inn could pretty much guarantee that copying keys for later break-ins was a practical waste of a thief's time.\n\nThis courtesy would also give Locke and Jean guaranteed privacy for the rapid transformation that was about to take place.\n\n\"Wonderful!\" Locke leaped up onto the quay as spryly as he had entered the boat; Jean passed the steering pole back to Bug, then made the barge shudder with his own leap. \"Let's goon in and fetch out our guests from Emberlain.\"\n\nAs Locke and Jean padded up the steps toward the Tumblehome, Calo motioned for Bug to give him a hand with the horse. The white-eyed creature was utterly without fear or personal initiative, but that same lack of self-preservation instincts might lead it to damage the barge very easily. After a few minutes of careful pushing and pulling, they had it positioned in the center of the barge, as calm as a statue that just happened to have lungs." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Lovely creature,\" said Calo. \"I've named him Impediment. You could use him as a table. Ora flying buttress.\"\n\n\"Gentled animals give me the bloody creeps.\"\n\n\"Whereas,\" said Calo, \"they give me the fucking creeps. But tenderfoots and softies prefer Gentled packhorses, and that's our master merchant of Emberlain in a nutshell.\"\n\nSeveral more minutes passed, and Calo and Bug stood in amiable silence under the punishing sun, looking the part of an unremarkable barge crew waiting to receive a passenger of consequence from the bosom of the Tumblehome Inn. Soon enough, that passenger descended the stairs and coughed twice to get their attention.\n\nIt was Locke, of course, but changed. His hair was slicked back with rose oil, the bones of his face seemed to shadow slightly deeper hollows in his cheeks, and his eyes were half concealed behind a pair of optics rimmed with black pearl and flashing silver in the sun.\n\nHe was now dressed in a tightly buttoned black coat in the Emberlain style, almost form-fitted from his shoulders down to his ribs, then flaring out widely at the waist. Two black leather belts with polished silver buckles circled his stomach; three ruffled layers of black silk cravats poured out of his collar and fluttered in the hot breeze. He wore embroidered gray hose over thick-heeled sharkskin shoes with black ribbon tongues that sprang somewhat ludicrously outward and hungover his feet with the drooping curl of hothouse flowers. Sweat was already beading on his forehead like little diamonds-Camorr's summer did not reward the intrusion of fashions from a more northerly climate.\n\n\"My name,\" said Locke Lamora, \"is Lukas Fehrwight.\" The voice was clipped and precise, scrubbed of Locke's natural inflections. He layered the hint of a harsh Vadran accent atop a slight mangling of his native Camorri dialect like a barkeep mixing liquors. \"I am wearing clothes that will be full of sweat in several minutes. I am dumb enough to walk around Camorr without a blade of any sort. Also,\" he said with a hint of ponderous regret, \"I am entirely fictional.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm very sorry to hear that, Master Fehrwight,\" said Calo, \"but at least we've got your boat and your horse ready for your grand excursion.\"\n\nLocke stepped carefully down toward the edge of the barge, swaying at the hips like a man newly off a ship and not yet used to surfaces that didn't tilt beneath his feet. His spine was arrow-straight, his movements nearly prissy. He wore the mannerisms of Lukas Fehrwight like a set of invisible clothes.\n\n\"My attendant will be along any moment,\" Locke/Fehrwight said as he/they stepped aboard the barge. \"His name is Graumann, and he too suffers from a slight case of being imaginary.\"\n\n\"Merciful gods,\" said Calo, \"it must be catching.\"\n\nDown the cobbled ramp came Jean, treading heavily under the weight of one hundred and twenty pounds of creaking horse's harness, the embroidered leather packs crammed full of goods and strapped tightly shut. Jean now wore a white silk shirt, straining tight against his belly and already translucent in places with sweat, under an open black vest and a white neckerchief. His hair was parted in the middle and held in stasis by some thick black oil; never picturesque, it now resembled two pads of wool arched over his forehead like a tenement roof.\n\n\"We're behind schedule, Graumann.\" Locke clasped his hands behind his back. \"Do hurry up and let the poor horse do its job.\"\n\nJean heaved his mess over the Gentled horse's back, to no visible reaction from the animal. He then bent down and fastened the harness securely under the horse's stomach. Bug passed the steering pole to Calo, then slipped the barge's rope from the mooring post, and they were off once again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Wouldn't it be damned amusing,\" said Calo, \"if Don Salvara picked today to dodge out on his little ritual?\"\n\n\"Don't worry,\" said Locke, briefly dropping the voice if not the posture of Lukas Fehrwight. \"He's quite devoted to his mother's memory. A conscience can be as good as a water-clock, when it comes to keeping some appointments.\"\n\n\"From your lips to the gods'ears.\" Calo worked the pole with cheerful ease. \"And no skin off my balls if you're wrong. You're the one wearing a ten-pound black felt coat in the middle of Parthis.\"\n\nThey made headway up the Angevine and came abreast with the western edge of the Temple District on their right, passing beneath a wide glass arch as they did so. Standing atop the middle of this bridge was a lean, dark-haired man with looks and a nose to match Calo's.\n\nAs Calo poled the barge underneath the arch some fifty feet below, Galdo Sanza casually let a half-eaten red apple fall from his hands. The fruit hit the water with a quiet little splash just a yard or two behind his brother.\n\n\"Salvara's at the temple!\" Bug said.\n\n\"Sublime.\" Locke spread his hands and grinned. \"Didn't I tell you he suffered from an impeccable sense of maternal devotion?\"\n\n\"I'm so pleased that you only choose victims of the highest moral quality,\" said Calo. \"The wrong sort might set a bad example for Bug.\"\n\nAt a public dock jutting from the northwestern shore of the Temple District, just under the heights of the city's vast new House of Iono (Father of Storms, Lord of the Grasping Waters), Jean tied them up in record time and led Impediment-looking every bit the part of a wealthy merchant's packhorse-up off the barge." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke followed with Fehrwight's nervous dignity on full display; all the banter was now banked down like coals under a cookfire. Bug darted off into the crowds, eager to take up his watch position over the alley junction where Don Salvara's ambitions would soon be sorely tempted. Calo spotted Galdo just stepping off the glass bridge, and casually moved toward him. Both twins were unconsciously fingering the weapons concealed beneath their baggy shirts.\n\nBy the time the Sanza brothers fell into step beside one another and began moving toward the rendezvous at the Temple of Fortunate Waters, Locke and Jean were already a block away, approaching from another direction. The game was afoot.\n\nFor the fourth time in as many years, in quiet defiance of the most inviolate law of Camorr's underworld, the Gentlemen Bastards were drawing a bead on one of the most powerful men in the city. They were headed fora meeting that might eventually divest Don Lorenzo Salvara of nearly half his worldly wealth; now everything depended on the Don being punctual.\n\nBUG WAS in a perfect position to spot the foot patrol before anyone else did, which was according to the plan. The foot patrol itself was also in the plan, after a fashion. It meant the plan was blown.\n\n\"You're going to be top-eyes on this game, Bug,\" Locke had explained. \"We're deliberately making first touch on Salvara on the most deserted street in the Temple District. A spotter on the ground would be obvious a mile away, but a boy two stories up is another matter.\"\n\n\"What am I spotting for?\"\n\n\"Whatever shows up. Duke Nicovante and the Nightglass Company. The king of the Seven Marrows. A little old lady with a dung-wagon. If we get interlopers, you just make the signal. Maybe you can distract common folk. If it's the watch, well-we can either play innocent or run like hell.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And here were six men in mustard-yellow tabards and well-oiled fighting harness, with batons and blades clattering ominously against their doubled waistbelts, strolling up from the south just a few dozen paces away from the Temple of Fortunate Waters. Their path would take them right past the mouth of the all-important alley. Even if Bug warned the others in time for them to hide Calo's rope, Locke and Jean would still be covered in mud and the twins would still be (purposely) dressed like stage-show bandits, complete with neckerchiefs over their faces. No chance to play innocent; if Bug gave the signal, it was run-like-hell time.\n\nBug thought as fast as he ever had in his life, while his heartbeat so rapidly it felt like someone was fluttering the pages of a book against the back of his lungs. He had to force himself to stay cool, stay observant, look for an opening. What was it Locke was always saying? Catalog! He needed to catalog his options.\n\nHis options stank. Twelve years old, crouched twenty feet up in the periphery of the wildly overgrown rooftop garden of a disused temple, with no long-range weapons and no other suitable distractions available. Don Salvara was still paying his respects to his mother's gods within the Temple of Fortunate Waters, and the only people insight were his fellow Gentlemen Bastards and the sweat-soaked patrol about to ruin their day.\n\nBut.\n\nTwenty feet down and six feet to Bug's right, against the wall of the crumbling structure on which he squatted, there was a rubbish pile. It looked like mold-eaten burlap sacks and a mixed assortment of brown muck.\n\nThe prudent thing to do would be to signal the others and let them scurry; Calo and Galdo were old hands at playing hard-to-get with the yellowjackets, and they could just comeback and restart the game again next week. Maybe. Or maybe a screwed-up game today would alarm someone, and lead to more foot patrols in the coming weeks. Maybe word would get around that the Temple District wasn't as quiet as it should be. Maybe Capa Barsavi, beset by problems as he was, would take an interest in the unauthorized disturbance, and turn his own screws. And then Don Salvara's money might as well be on the bloody moons, for all that the Gentlemen Bastards could get their hands on it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "No, prudence was out. Bug had to win. The presence of that rubbish pile made a great and glorious stupidity very possible.\n\nHe was in the air before another thought crossed his mind. Arms out, falling backward, staring up into the hot near-noon sky with the confident assurance of all twelve of his years that death and injury were things reserved solely for people that weren't Bug. He screamed as he fell, in wild exaltation, just to be sure that he had the foot patrol's unwavering attention.\n\nHe could feel the great vast shadow of the ground looming up beneath him, in the last half second of his fall, and at that instant his eyes caught a dark shape cutting through the air just above the Temple of Fortunate Waters. A sleek and beautiful shape, heavy, a bird? A gull of some sort? Camorr had no other birds that size-certainly none that moved like crossbow bolts, and-\n\nImpact with the semiyielding surface of the rubbish heap walloped the air out of his lungs with a wet hoooosh and snapped his head forward. Sharp chin bounced off slender chest; his teeth punched bloody holes in his tongue, and the warm taste of salt filled his mouth. He screamed again, reflexively, and spat blood. His view of the sky spun first left then right, as though the world were trying on strange new angles for his approval.\n\nBooted feet running on cobblestones; the creak and rattle of weapons in harness. A ruddy middle-aged face with two drooping sweat-slicked moustaches inserted itself between Bug and the sky.\n\n\"Perelandro's balls, boy!\" The watchman looked as bewildered as he did worried. \"What the hell were you doing, screwing around up there? You're lucky you landed where you did.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There were enthusiastic murmurs of agreement from the yellow-jacketed squad crowding in behind the first man; Bug could smell their sweat and their harness oil, as well as the rotten stench of the stuff that had broken his fall. Well, when you jumped into a streetside pile of brown glop in Camorr, you knew going in that it wouldn't smell like rosewater. Bug shook his head to clear the white sparks dancing behind his eyes, and twitched his legs to be sure they would serve. Nothing appeared to be broken, thank the gods. He would reevaluate his own claims on immortality when all of this was over.\n\n\"Watch-sergeant,\" Bug hissed thickly, letting more blood spill out over his lips (damn, his tongue burned with pain). \"Watch-sergeant...\"\n\n\"Yes?\" The man's eyes were going wider. \"Can you move your arms and legs, boy? What can you feel?\"\n\nBug reached up with his hands, casually, not entirely feigning shakiness, and clutched at the watch-sergeant's harness as though to steady himself.\n\n\"Watch-sergeant,\" Bug said a few seconds later, \"your purse is much lighter than it should be. Out whoring last night, were we?\"\n\nHe shook the little leather pouch just under the watch-sergeant's dark moustaches, and the larcenous part of his soul (which was, let us be honest, its majority) glowed warmly at the sheer befuddlement that blossomed in the man's eyes. Fora split second, the pain of Bug's imperfect landing in the rubbish heap was forgotten. Then his other hand came up, as if by magic, and his Orphan's Twist hit the watch-sergeant right between the eyes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "An Orphan's Twist, or a'little red keeper,\" was a weighted sack like a miniature cosh, kept hidden in clothes (but never against naked skin). It was traditionally packed full of ground shavings from a dozen of Camorr's more popular hot peppers, and a few nasty castoffs from certain black alchemists' shops. No use against areal threat, but just the thing for another street urchin. Ora certain sort of adult with wandering hands.\n\nOran unprotected face, at spitting distance.\n\nBug was already rolling to his left, so the spray of fine rust-colored powder that erupted from his Twist missed him by inches. The watch-sergeant was not so lucky; it was a solid hit, scattering the hellish-hot stuff up his nose, down his mouth, and straight into his eyes. He choked out a string of truly amazing wet bellows and fell backward, clawing at his cheeks. Bug was already up and moving with the giddy elasticity of youth; even his bitterly aching tongue was temporarily forgotten in the all-consuming need to run like hell.\n\nNow he definitely had the foot patrol's undivided attention. They were shouting and leaping after him as his little feet pounded the cobbles and he sucked in deep stinging gulps of humid air. He'd done his part to keep the game alive. It could now goon without him while he gave the duke's constables their afternoon exercise.\n\nA particularly fast-thinking watchman fumbled his whistle into his mouth and blew it raggedly while still running-three short bursts, a pause, then three more. Watchman down. Oh, shit. That would bring every yellowjacket in half the city at a dead run, weapons out. That would bring crossbows. It was suddenly deadly important that Bug slip the squad at his heels before other squads started sending spotters up onto roofs. His anticipation of a merry chase vanished. He had perhaps a minute and a half to get to one of his usual cozy-holes and pull a vanish." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Suddenly, his tongue hurt very badly indeed.\n\nDON LORENZO Salvara stepped out of the temple portico into the stark bright dampness of high Camorri noon, little imagining the education a certain boy thief was receiving in the concept of too clever by half just across the district. The trilling of watch-whistles sounded faintly. Salvara narrowed his eyes and peered with some curiosity at the distant figure of alone city watchman, stumbling across the cobbles and occasionally bouncing off walls, clutching his head as though afraid it was going to float off his neck and up into the sky.\n\n\"Can you believe it, m'lord?\" Conté had already brought the horses around from the temple's unobtrusive little stabling grotto. \"Drunk as a baby in a beer barrel, and not a heartbeat past noon. Fucking pissant lot of softies, these new goldenrods.\" Conté was a sun-wrinkled man of middle years with the waistline of a professional dancer and the arms of a professional oarsman; the manner in which he served the young don was obvious even without a glance at the pair of thigh-length stilettos hanging from his crossed leather belts.\n\n\"Hardly up to your old standards, eh?\" The don, on the other hand, was a well-favored young man of the classic Camorri blood, black-haired, with skin like shadowed honey. His face was heavy and soft with curves, though his body was slender, and only his eyes gave any hint that he wasn't a polite young collegium undergraduate masquerading as a noble. Behind his fashionable rimless optics, the don had eyes like an impatient archer hungry for targets. Conté snorted.\n\n\"In my day, at least we knew that getting shit-faced was an indoor hobby.\" Conté passed the don the reins of his mount, a sleek gray mare little bigger than a pony, well trained but certainly not Gentled. Just the thing for short trots around a city still more friendly to boats (or acrobats, as Doña Salvara often complained) than to horses. The stumbling watchman vanished around a distant corner, vaguely in the direction of the urgent whistling. As it seemed to becoming no closer, Salvara shrugged inwardly and led his horse out into the street." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Here the day's second curiosity burst upon them in all of its glory. As the don and his man turned to their right, they gained a full view of the high-walled alley beside the Temple of Fortunate Waters-and in this alley two finely dressed men were clearly getting their lives walloped out of them by a pair of bravos.\n\nSalvara froze and stared in wonder-masked thugs in the Temple District? Masked thugs strangling a man dressed all in black, in the tight, heavy, miserably inappropriate fashion of a Vadran? And, Merciful Twelve, a Gentled packhorse was simply standing there taking it all in.\n\nAfter a handful of seconds lost to sheer amazement, the don let his own horse's reins go and ran toward the mouth of the alley. He didn't need to glance sideways to know that Conté was barely astride behind him, knives out.\n\n\"You!\" The don's voice was reasonably confident, though high with excitement. \"Unhand these men and stand clear!\"\n\nThe closest footpad snapped his head around; his dark eyes widened above his improvised mask when he saw the don and Conté approaching. The thug shifted his red-faced victim so that the man's body was between himself and the would-be interlopers.\n\n\"No need to trouble yourself with this business, my lord,\" the footpad said. \"Just a bit of a disagreement. Private matter.\"\n\n\"Then perhaps you should have conducted it somewhere less public.\"\n\nThe footpad sounded quite exasperated. \"What, the duke give you this alley to be your estate? Take another step and I break this poor bastard's neck.\"\n\n\"You just do that.\" Don Salvara settled his hand suggestively on the pommel of his basket-hilted rapier. \"My man and I appear to command the only way out of this alley. I'm sure you'll still feel quite pleased at having killed that man when you've got three feet of steel in your throat.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The first footpad didn't release his hold on the coiled loops of rope that were holding up his barely conscious victim, but he began to back off warily toward the dead end, dragging the black-clad man clumsily with him. His fellow thug stood away from the prone form of the man he'd been savagely kicking. A meaningful look flashed between the two masked bandits.\n\n\"My friends, do not be stupid.\" Salvara slid his rapier halfway out of its scabbard; sunlight blazed white on finest Camorri steel, and Conté crouched forward on the balls of his feet, shifting to the predatory stance of a knife-fighter born and trained.\n\nWithout another word, the first footpad flung his victim straight at Conté and the don; while the unfortunate black-clad fellow gasped and clutched at his rescuers, the two masked thugs bolted for the wall at the rear of the alley. Conté sidestepped the heaving, shuddering Vadran and dashed after them, but the assailants were spry as well as cunning. A slim rope hung down the wall, barely visible, and knotted at regular intervals. The two thugs scrambled up this and all but dove over the top of the wall; Conté and his blades were two seconds too late. The weighted far end of the rope flew back over the wall and landed with a splat in the crusted muck at his feet.\n\n\"Fucking useless slugabed bastards!\" The don's man slid his stilettos back into his belt with easy familiarity and bent down to the heavyset body lying unmoving in the muck. The eerie white stare of the Gentled packhorse seemed to follow him as he pressed fingers to the fat man's neck, seeking a pulse. \"Watchmen stumbling drunk in broad daylight, and look what happens in the bloody Temple District while they screw around...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Oh, thank the Marrows,\" choked out the black-clad man as he uncoiled the rope from his neck and flung it to the ground. Don Salvara could now see that his clothes were very fine, despite their spattering of muck and their unseasonable weight-excellently cut, form-tailored, and ornamented with expensive subtlety rather than opulent flash. \"Thank the Salt and thank the Sweet. Thank the Hands Beneath the Waters those bastards attacked us right beside this place of power, where the currents brought you to our aid.\"\n\nThe man's Therin was precise, though heavily accented, and his voice was unsurprisingly hoarse. He massaged his abraded throat, blinked, and began to pat the muck around him with his freehand, as though looking for something.\n\n\"I believe I can help you again,\" said Don Salvara in his best Vadran, which was as precise-and as heavily accented-as the stranger's Therin. Salvara picked a pair of pearl-rimmed optics out of the muck (noting their lightweight and sturdy construction-a superior and very expensive pair indeed) and wiped them off on the sleeve of his own loose scarlet coat before handing them to the man.\n\n\"And you speak Vadran!\" The stranger spoke in that tongue now, with the clipped, excitable diction of Emberlain. He slid the optics back over his eyes and blinked up at his rescuer. \"A complete miracle now, far more than I have any right to pray for. Oh! Graumann!\"\n\nThe black-clad Vadran scrambled unsteadily to his feet and stumbled over to his companion. Conté had managed to roll the portly stranger over in the slime; he now lay on his back with his great muck-slick chest rising and falling steadily." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"He lives, obviously.\" Conté slid his hands along the poor fellow's rib cage and stomach. \"I don't believe he has anything broken or ruptured, though he'll likely be green with bruises for weeks. Green as pondwater, then black as night, or I don't know shit from custard tarts.\"\n\nThe slender, well-dressed Vadran let out along sigh of relief. \"Custard tarts. Indeed. The Marrows are most generous. Graumann is my attendant, my secretary, my diligent right hand. Alas, he has no skill at arms, but then I am myself plainly embarrassed in that regard.\" The stranger now spoke Therin again, and he turned to stare at Don Salvara with wide eyes. \"Just as plainly I do you discourtesy, for you must be one of the dons of Camorr.\" He bowed low-lower even than etiquette would require of a landed foreigner greeting a peer of the Serene Duchy of Camorr, almost until he was in danger of pitching forward on his chin.\n\n\"I am Lukas Fehrwight, servant to the House of bel Auster, of the Canton of Emberlain and the Kingdom of the Seven Marrows. I am entirely at your service and grateful beyond words for what you have done for me today.\"\n\n\"I am Lorenzo, Don Salvara, and this is my man Conté, and it is we who are entirely at your service, without obligation.\" The don bowed at exactly the correct angle, with his right handheld out as an invitation to shake. \"I am in a sense responsible for Camorr's hospitality, and what befell you here was not hospitality. It was upon my honor to come to your aid.\"\n\nFehrwight grasped the don's proffered arm just above the wrist and shook. If Fehrwight's grasp was weak, the don was willing to charitably ascribe it to his near strangling. Fehrwight then lowered his own forehead until it gently touched the back of the don's hand, and their physical courtesies were settled. \"I beg to differ; you have here a sworn man, quite competent by his looks. You could have satisfied honor by sending him to our aid, yet you came yourself, ready to fight. From where I stood, it seemed he ran to keep up with you. And I assure you, my viewpoint for this affair was uncomfortable but excellent.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The don waved his hand gently as though words could be swatted out of the air. \"I'm just sorry they got away, Master Fehrwight. It is unlikely that I can give you true justice. For that, Camorr again apologizes.\"\n\nFehrwight knelt down beside Graumann and brushed the big man's sweat-slick dark hair back from his forehead. \"Justice? I am lucky to be alive. I was blessed with a safe journey here and with your aid. I am alive to continue my mission, and that is justice enough.\" The slender man looked up at Salvara again. \"Are you not Don Salvara of the Nacozza Vineyards? Is not the Doña Sofia, the famous botanical alchemist, your wife?\"\n\n\"I have that honor, and I have that pleasure,\" said the don. \"And do you not serve the House of bel Auster? Do you not deal with the, ah...\"\n\n\"Yes, oh yes, I serve that House of bel Auster; my business is the sale and transport of the substance you're thinking of. It is curious, so very curious. The Marrows toy with me; the Hands Beneath must wish me to drop dead of sheer wonder. That you should save my life here, that you should speak Vadran, that we should share a common business interest... It is uncanny.\"\n\n\"I, too, find it extraordinary, but hardly displeasing.\" Don Salvara gazed around the alley thoughtfully. \"My mother was Vadran, which is why I speak the language enthusiastically, if poorly. Were you followed here? That rope over the wall bespeaks preparation, and the Temple District... Well, it's usually as safe as the duke's own reading room.\"\n\n\"We arrived this morning,\" said Fehrwight. \"After we secured our rooms-at the Inn of the Tumblehome, you know of it, I'm sure-we came straight hereto give thanks and drown the offerings for our safe passage from Emberlain. I did not see where those men came from.\" Fehrwight mused fora moment. \"Though I believe that one of them threw that rope over the wall after knocking Graumann down. They were cautious, but not waiting in ambush for us.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Salvara grunted, and turned his attention to the blank stare of the Gentled horse. \"Curious. Do you always bring horses and goods to the temple to make your offerings? If those packs areas full as they look, I can see why thugs might have been tempted.\"\n\n\"Ordinarily, such things would be under lock and key at our inn.\" Fehrwight gave Graumann two friendly pats on the shoulder and rose again. \"But for this cargo, and for this mission, I must keep them with meat all times. And I fear that must have made us a tempting target. It is a conundrum.\" Fehrwight scratched his chin slowly, several times. \"I am in your debt already, Don Lorenzo, and hesitant to ask aid of you once again. Yet this relates to the mission I am charged with, for my time in Camorr. As you area don, do you know of a certain Don Jacobo?\"\n\nDon Salvara's eyes fixed firmly on Fehrwight; one corner of his mouth turned infinitesimally downward. \"Yes,\" he said, and nothing more, after the silence had stretched a few moments.\n\n\"This Don Jacobo... It is said that he is a man of wealth. Extreme wealth, even fora don.\"\n\n\"That is... true.\"\n\n\"It is said that he is adventurous. Bold, even. That he has-how do you say it?-an eye for strange opportunities. A toleration of risk.\"\n\n\"That is one way of describing his character, perhaps.\"\n\nFehrwight licked his lips. \"Don Lorenzo... it is important... if these things are true-would you, could you, through your status as a peer of Camorr... assist me in securing an appointment with Don Jacobo? I am ashamed to ask, but I would be more ashamed to forswear my mission for the House of bel Auster.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Don Salvara smiled without the slightest hint of humor, and turned his head for several seconds, as though to gaze down at Graumann, lying quietly in the muck. Conté had stood up and was staring directly at his don, eyes wide.\n\n\"Master Fehrwight,\" said the don at last, \"are you not aware that Paleri Jacobo is perhaps my greatest living enemy? That the two of us have fought to the blood, twice, and only on the orders of Duke Nicovante himself do we not settle our affair for all time?\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Fehrwight, with the tone and facial expression of a man who has just dropped a torch in a hogshead cask of lamp oil. \"How awkward. How stupid of me. I have done business in Camorr several times, but I did not... I have insulted you. I have asked too much.\"\n\n\"Hardly.\" Salvara's tone grew warm again; he began to drum the fingers of his right hand against the hilt of his rapier. \"But you're hereon a mission for the House of bel Auster. You carry a cargo that you refuse to let out of your sight. You clearly have your plan fixed upon Don Jacobo in some fashion... though you still need to gain a formal audience with him. So, to be clear, he doesn't know you're here, or that you plan on seeking him out, does he?\"\n\n\"I... that is... I fear to say too much of my business...\"\n\n\"Yet your business here is plain,\" said Don Salvara, now positively cheerful, \"and have you not repeatedly stated that you are indebted tome, Master Fehrwight? Despite my assurances to the contrary, have you not refused those assurances? Do you withdraw your promise of obligation now?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I... with the best will in the world, my lord... damn.\" Fehrwight sighed and clenched his fists. \"I am ashamed, Don Lorenzo. I must now either forswear my obligation to the man who saved my life or forswear my promise to the House of bel Auster to keep its business as private as possible.\"\n\n\"You must do neither,\" said the Don. \"And perhaps I can aid you directly in the pursuit of your master's business. Do you not see? If Don Jacobo does not know of your presence here, what obligation do you have to him? Clearly, you are set hereupon business. A plan, a scheme, a proposal of some sort. You're hereto initiate something, or else you'd have your connections already in place. Don't be angry with yourself; this is all plain logic. Is it not true?\"\n\nFehrwight looked down and nodded reluctantly.\n\n\"Then here it is! Although I am not as wealthy as Don Jacobo, I am a man of substantial means; and we are in complementary lines of business, are we not? Attend me tomorrow, on my barge, at the Shifting Revel. Make your proposal tome; let us discuss it thoroughly.\" There was a wicked gleam in Don Salvara's eyes; it could be seen despite the brightness of the sun overhead. \"As you are indebted tome, repay this obligation by agreeing only to attend. Then, free of obligation, let us discuss business to our mutual advantage. Do you not see that I have a vested interest in taking whatever opportunity you present away from Jacobo, even if he never learns of it? Especially if he never learns of it! And am I not bold enough for your tastes? I swear your face grows longer as though by sorcery. What's wrong?\"\n\n\"It is not you, Don Lorenzo. It is merely that the Hands Beneath are suddenly too generous once more. We have a saying-that undeserved good fortune always conceals a snare.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Don't worry, Master Fehrwight. If it's really business that you want to discuss, never doubt that there will be hard work and bitter troubles enough waiting for us down the road. Are we in agreement, then? Will you dine with me tomorrow morning, take in the Shifting Revel, and discuss your proposal with me?\"\n\nFehrwight swallowed, looked Don Salvara in the eyes, and nodded firmly. \"There is great sense in what you propose. And perhaps great opportunity for both of us. I will accept your hospitality, and I will tell you everything. Tomorrow, as you say. It cannot come soon enough for me.\"\n\n\"It has been my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Fehrwight.\" Don Salvara inclined his head. \"May we help your friend up out of the muck, and see you to your inn to ensure you have no further difficulties?\"\n\n\"Your company would be most pleasing, if only you would wait and look after poor Graumann and our cargo long enough for me to finish my offering within the temple.\" Locke removed a small leather pack from the horse's jumble of goods and containers. \"The offering will be more substantial than I had planned. But then, my masters understand that prayers of thanks are an unavoidable expense in our line of business.\"\n\nTHE JOURNEY back to the Tumblehome was slow, with Jean putting on an excellent show of misery, grogginess, and confusion. If the sight of two mud-splattered, overdressed outlanders and three horses escorted by a don struck anyone as unusual, they kept their comments to themselves and reserved their stares for Don Salvara's back. Along the way, they passed Calo, now walking about casually in the plain garb of a laborer. He flashed rapid and subtle hand signals; with no sign of Bug, he would take up position atone of their prearranged rendezvous sites. And he would pray." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Lukas! Surely it can't be. I say, Lukas Fehrwight!\"\n\nAs Calo vanished into the crowd, Galdo appeared just as suddenly, dressed in the bright silks and cottons of a prosperous Camorri merchant; his slashed and ruffled coat alone was probably worth as much as the barge the Gentlemen Bastards had poled up the river that morning. There was nothing now about him to remind the donor his man of the alley cutthroats; unmasked, with his hair slicked back under a small round cap, Galdo was the very picture of physical and fiscal respectability. He twirled a little lacquered cane and stepped toward Don Lorenzo's odd little party, smiling broadly.\n\n\"Why-Evante!\" Locke-as-Fehrwight stopped and stared in mock astonishment, then held out a hand fora vigorous shake from the newcomer. \"What a pleasant surprise!\"\n\n\"Quite, Lukas, quite-but what the hell's happened to you? And to you, Graumann? You look as though you just lost a fight!\"\n\n\"Ah, we did.\" Locke looked down and rubbed his eyes. \"Evante, it has been a very peculiar morning. Grau and I might not even be alive if not for our rather extraordinary guide, here.\" Pulling Galdo toward him, Locke held a handout toward the don. \"My Lord Salvara, may I introduce to you Evante Eccari, a solicitor of your Razona district? Evante, this is Don Lorenzo Salvara. Of the Nacozza Vineyards, if you still pay attention to those properties.\"\n\n\"Twelve gods!\" Galdo swept his hat off and bowed deeply at the waist. \"A don. I should have recognized you immediately, m'lord. A thousand pardons. Evante Eccari, entirely at your service.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A pleasure, Master Eccari.\" Don Salvara bowed correctly but casually, then stepped forward to shake the newcomer's hand; this signaled his permission to deduct any superfluous bowing and scraping from the conversation. \"You, ah, you know Master Fehrwight, then?\"\n\n\"Lukas and I go well back, m'lord.\" Without turning his back on Don Salvara, he fussily brushed a bit of dried muck from the shoulders of Locke's black coat. \"I workout of Meraggio's, mostly, handling customs and license work for our friends in the north. Lukas is one of bel Auster's best and brightest.\"\n\n\"Hardly.\" Locke coughed and smiled shyly. \"Evante takes all the more interesting laws and regulations of your state, and reduces them to plain Therin. He was my salvation on several previous ventures. I seem to have a talent for finding snares in Camorr, and a talent for finding good Camorri to slip me out of them.\"\n\n\"Few clients would describe what I do in such generous terms. But what's this mud, and these bruises? You said something of a fight?\"\n\n\"Yes. Your city has some very, ah, enterprising thieves. Don Salvara and his man have just driven a pair of them off. I fear Graumann and I were getting the worst of the affair.\"\n\nGaldo stepped over to Jean and gave him a friendly pat on the back; Jean's wince was fantastic theater. \"My compliments, m'lord Salvara! Lukas is what you might calla good vintage, even if he's not wise enough to takeoff those silly winter wools. I'm most deeply obligated to you for what you've done, and I'm at-\"\n\n\"Hardly, sir, hardly.\" Don Salvara held up one hand and hitched the other in his sword-belt. \"I did what my position demanded, no more. And I have too many promises of obligation being thrown at me already this afternoon.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Don Lorenzo and'Master Eccari\" fenced pleasantries fora few moments thereafter; Galdo eventually let himself be skewered with the politest possible version of'Thanks, but piss off.\"\n\n\"Well,\" he said at last, \"this has been a wonderful surprise, but I'm afraid I have a client waiting, and clearly, m'lord Salvara, you and Lukas have business that I shouldn't intrude upon. With your permission...?\"\n\n\"Of course, of course. A pleasure, Master Eccari.\"\n\n\"Entirely mine, I assure you, m'lord. Lukas, if you get a spare hour, you know whereto find me. And should my poor skills be of any use to your affairs, you know I'll come running...\"\n\n\"Of course, Evante.\" Locke grasped Galdo's right hand in both of his and shook enthusiastically. \"I suspect we may have need of you sooner rather than later.\" He laid a finger alongside his nose; Galdo nodded, and then there was a general exchange of bows and handshakes and the other courtesies of disentanglement. As Galdo hurried away, he left a few hand signals in his wake, disguised as adjustments to his hat: I know nothing about Bug. Going to look around.\n\nDon Salvara stared after him thoughtfully fora few seconds, then turned back to Locke as their small party resumed its journey toward the Tumblehome. They made small talk fora while. Locke had little trouble, as Fehrwight, letting his pleasure at seeing'Eccari\" slip. Soon he was projecting a very real downcast mood, which he claimed to bean incipient headache from the attempted strangling. Don Salvara and Conté left the two Gentlemen Bastards in front of the Tumblehome's street-side citrus gardens, with admonitions to rest soundly that night and let all business wait for the morrow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "No sooner were Locke and Jean safely alone in their suite (the harness full of'precious\" goods thrown back over Jean's shoulders) than they were exploding out of their muddy finery and donning new disguises so they could hurry off to their own rendezvous points to wait for word of Bug, if any was forthcoming.\n\nThis time, the swift dark shape that flitted silently from rooftop to rooftop in their wake went entirely unnoticed.\n\nFADING FALSELIGHT. The Hangman's Wind and the swampwater mist glued clothes to skin and rapidly congealed Calo and Galdo's tobacco smoke around them, half cloaking them in a cataract of grayness. The twins sat, hooded and sweating, in the locked doorway of a fairly well-kept pawnshop on the northern tip of the Old Citadel district. The shop was shuttered and barred for the evening; the keeper's family was obviously drinking something with a merry kick two floors above them.\n\n\"It was a good first touch,\" said Calo.\n\n\"It was, wasn't it?\"\n\n\"Our best yet. Hard to work all those disguises, what with us being the handsome ones.\"\n\n\"I confess that I wasn't aware we shared that complication.\"\n\n\"Now, now, don't be hard on yourself. Physically, you're quite my match. It's my scholarly gifts you lack. And my easy fearlessness. And my gift for women.\"\n\n\"If you mean the ease with which you drop coins when you're off a-cunting, you're right. You're a one-man charity ball for the whores of Camorr.\"\n\n\"Now that,\" said Calo, \"was genuinely unkind.\"\n\n\"You're right.\" The twins smoked in silence fora few seconds. \"I'm sorry. Some of the savor's out of it tonight. The little bastard has my stomach twisted in knots. You saw-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Extra foot patrols." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Pissed off. Yeah, heard the whistles. I'm real curious about what he did and why he did it.\"\n\n\"He must've had his reasons. If it really was a good first touch, he gave it to us. I hope he's well enough for us to beat the piss out of him.\"\n\nStray shapes hurried past in the backlit mist; there was very little Elderglass on the Old Citadel island, so most of the dying glow poured through from a distance. The sound of a horse's hooves on cobbles was coming from the south, and getting louder.\n\nAt that moment, Locke was no doubt skulking near the Palace of Patience, eyeballing the patrols coming and going across the Black Bridge, making sure that they carried no small, familiar prisoners. Or small, familiar bodies. Jean would be off at another rendezvous point, pacing and cracking his knuckles. Bug would never return straight to the Temple of Perelandro, nor would he go near the Tumblehome. The older Gentlemen Bastards would sit their vigils for him out in the city and the steam.\n\nWooden wheels clattered and an annoyed animal whinnied; the sound of the horse-drawn cart came to a creaking halt not twenty feet from the Sanza brothers, shrouded in the mist. \"Avendando?\" Aloud but uncertain voice spoke the name. Calo and Galdo leapt to their feet as one-\"Avendando\" was their private recognition signal for an unplanned rendezvous.\n\n\"Here!\" Calo cried, dropping his thin cigarette and forgetting to step on it. A man materialized out of the mist, bald and bearded, with the heavy arms of a working artisan and the rounded middle of moderate prosperity.\n\n\"I dunno exactly how this works,\" the man said, \"but if one of you is Avendando, I was told I'd have ten solons for delivering this here cask to this, ah, doorway.\" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, toward the cart." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Cask. Indeed.\" Galdo fumbled with a coin purse, heart racing. \"What's, ahhh, in this cask?\"\n\n\"Ain't wine,\" said the stranger. \"Ain't a very polite lad, neither. But ten silvers is what he promised.\"\n\n\"Of course.\" Galdo counted rapidly, slapping bright silver disks down into the man's open palm. \"Ten for the cask. One more for forgetting all about this, hmmm?\"\n\n\"Holy hell, my memory must be cacked out, because I can't remember what you're paying me for.\"\n\n\"Goodman.\" Galdo slipped his purse back under his nightcloak and ran to help Calo, who had mounted the cart and was standing over a wooden cask of moderate size. The cork stopper that would ordinarily beset into the top of the barrel was gone, leaving a small dark air-hole. Calo rapped sharply on the cask three times; three faint taps came right back. With grins on their faces, the Sanza twins muscled the cask down off the cart and nodded farewell to the driver. The man remounted his cart and soon vanished into the night, whistling, his pockets jingling with more than twenty times the value of the empty cask.\n\n\"Well,\" Calo said when they'd rolled the cask back to the shelter of their doorway, \"this vintage is probably a little young and rough for decanting.\"\n\n\"Put it in the cellar for fifty or sixty years?\"\n\n\"I was thinking we might just pour it in the river.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Galdo drummed his fingers on the cask. \"What's the river ever done to deserve that?\"\n\nThere was a series of noises from inside the cask that sounded vaguely like some sort of protest. Calo and Galdo leaned down by the air-hole together." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Advance the plot as the writer's tale assistant.\nTags: fantasy, heist, crime\nAuthor: Scott Lynch\nTitle: The Lies of Locke Lamora\nChapter: 2" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Cask. Indeed.\" Galdo fumbled with a coin purse, heart racing. \"What's, ahhh, in this cask?\"\n\n\"Ain't wine,\" said the stranger. \"Ain't a very polite lad, neither. But ten silvers is what he promised.\"\n\n\"Of course.\" Galdo counted rapidly, slapping bright silver disks down into the man's open palm. \"Ten for the cask. One more for forgetting all about this, hmmm?\"\n\n\"Holy hell, my memory must be cacked out, because I can't remember what you're paying me for.\"\n\n\"Goodman.\" Galdo slipped his purse back under his nightcloak and ran to help Calo, who had mounted the cart and was standing over a wooden cask of moderate size. The cork stopper that would ordinarily beset into the top of the barrel was gone, leaving a small dark air-hole. Calo rapped sharply on the cask three times; three faint taps came right back. With grins on their faces, the Sanza twins muscled the cask down off the cart and nodded farewell to the driver. The man remounted his cart and soon vanished into the night, whistling, his pockets jingling with more than twenty times the value of the empty cask.\n\n\"Well,\" Calo said when they'd rolled the cask back to the shelter of their doorway, \"this vintage is probably a little young and rough for decanting.\"\n\n\"Put it in the cellar for fifty or sixty years?\"\n\n\"I was thinking we might just pour it in the river.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Galdo drummed his fingers on the cask. \"What's the river ever done to deserve that?\"\n\nThere was a series of noises from inside the cask that sounded vaguely like some sort of protest. Calo and Galdo leaned down by the air-hole together." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Now, Bug,\" Calo began, \"I'm sure you have a perfectly good explanation for why you're in there, and why we're out here worrying ourselves sick over you.\"\n\n\"It's a magnificent explanation, really.\" Bug's voice was hoarse and echoed faintly. \"You're going to love it. But first tell me how the game went!\"\n\n\"It was a thing of beauty,\" said Galdo.\n\n\"Three weeks, tops, and we're going to own this don down to his wife's last set of silk smallclothes,\" added Calo.\n\nThe boy groaned with obvious relief. \"Great. Well, what happened was, there was this pack of yellowjackets heading right for you. What I did to distract them pissed them off pretty fierce, so, um, Iran for this cooper's that I know in Old Citadel. He does business with some of the wine places upriver, so he's got this yard of barrels just sitting around. Well, I just sort of invited myself in, jumped in one, and told him that if I could stay there until he delivered me hereafter Falselight, there'd be eight solons in it for him.\"\n\n\"Eight?\" Calo scratched his chin. \"The cheeky bastard just asked for ten, and got eleven.\"\n\n\"Yeah, well, that's okay.\" Bug coughed. \"I got bored sitting around the cask-yard so I lifted his purse. Had about two solons worth of copper in it. So we got some back.\"\n\n\"I was going to say something sympathetic about you lying around inside a cask for half the day,\" said Galdo, \"but that was a damn silly thing to do.\"\n\n\"Oh, come on!\" Bug sounded genuinely stung. \"He thought I was in the cask the whole time, so why would he suspect me? And you just gave him a load of money, so why would he suspect you? It's perfect! Locke would appreciate it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Bug,\" Calo said, \"Locke is like a brother to us, and our love for him has no bounds. But the four most fatal words in the Therin language are \"Locke would appreciate it.\"\"\n\n\"Rivaled only by \"Locke taught me anew trick,\"\" added Galdo.\n\n\"The only person who gets away with Locke Lamora games-\"\n\n\"-is Locke Lamora-\"\n\n\"-because we think the gods are saving him up fora really big death. Something with knives and hot irons-\"\n\n\"-and fifty thousand cheering spectators.\"\n\nThe brothers cleared their throats in unison.\n\n\"Well,\" Bug said finally, \"I did it and I got away with it. Can we go home now?\"\n\n\"Home,\" Calo mused. \"Sure. Locke and Jean are going to sob over you like grandmothers when they find out you're alive, so let's not keep them waiting.\"\n\n\"No need to get out; your legs are probably cramped up,\" said Galdo.\n\n\"They are!\" Bug squeaked. \"But you two really don't need to carry me all that way...\"\n\n\"You've never been more right about anything in your entire life, Bug!\" Galdo took up position atone side of the cask and nodded at Calo. Whistling in unison, the two brothers began rolling the cask along the cobbles, steering for the Temple District, not necessarily by the fastest or smoothest route available." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It was an accident,\" Locke said at last. \"They were both accidents.\"\n\n\"Excuse me? I must not have heard you.\" Father Chains'eyes narrowed in the faint red glow of Locke's tiny ceramic lamp. \"I could have sworn you just said, \"Toss me over the parapet. I'm a useless little cuss and I'm ready to die at this very moment.\"\"\n\nChains had moved their conversation up to the roof of the temple, where they sat comfortably beneath high parapets meant to be threaded with decorative plants. The long-lost hanging gardens of the House of Perelandro were a small but important aspect of the sacrificial tragedy of the Eyeless Priest; one more bit of stage-setting to draw sympathy, measured in coins.\n\nThe clouds had roiled in overhead, palely reflecting the particolored glimmers of night-lit Camorr, obscuring the moons and the stars. The Hangman's Wind was little more than a damp pressure that nudged the sluggish air around Chains and Locke as the boy struggled to clarify himself.\n\n\"No! I meant to hurt them, but that's all. I didn't know... I didn't know those things would happen.\"\n\n\"Well, that I can almost believe.\" Chains tapped the index finger of his right hand against his left palm, the Camorri marketplace gesture forget on with it. \"So take me all the way. That \"almost\" is a major problem for you. Make me understand, starting with the first boy.\"\n\n\"Veslin,\" Locke whispered. \"And Gregor, but Veslin first.\"\n\n\"Veslin indeed,\" Chains said. \"Poor soul, got a superfluous orifice carved into his neck by none other than your old master. He had to go buy one of those lovely shark's teeth from the Capa, and that one got used. So... why?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"In the hill, some of the older boys and girls stopped going out to work.\" Locke wove his fingers tightly together and stared down at them as though they might sprout answers. \"They would just take things when we came back each day. Shake us down. Make our reports to the master for us, leave things out sometimes.\"\n\nChains nodded. \"Privileges of age, size, and ass-kissing. If you survive this conversation, you'll find that it's just the same inmost of the big gangs. Most.\"\n\n\"And there was one boy. Veslin. He'd do more. He'd kick us, punch us, take our clothes. Make us do things. Lots of times he'd lie to the master about what we'd brought in. He'd give some of our things to the older girls in Windows, and all of us in Streets would get less food-especially the teasers.\" Locke's small hands pulled apart and curled slowly into fists as he spoke. \"And if we tried to tell the master, he just laughed, like he knew about it and thought it was funny! And after we told, Veslin would... Veslin would just get worse.\"\n\nChains nodded, then tapped his index finger against his palm once more.\n\n\"I thought about it. I thought about it a lot. None of us could fight him. He was too big. None of us had any big friends in the hill. And if we ganged upon Veslin, his big friends would all come after us.\n\n\"Veslin went out each day with some of his friends. We saw them while we were working; they wouldn't mess with our jobs, but they would watch us, you know? And Veslin would say things.\" Locke's thin-lipped scowl would have been comical on a less dirty, less emaciated, less hollow-eyed boy; as it was, he looked like a slender wall-gargoyle, working himself up fora pounce. \"Say things when we came back. About how we were clumsy, or lazy, and not taking enough. And he would push us more, and hit us more, and cheat us more. I thought and I thought and I thought about what to do.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And the idea,\" said Chains, \"the fateful idea. It was all yours?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" The boy nodded vigorously. \"All mine. I was alone when I had the idea. I saw some yellowjackets on patrol, and I thought... I thought about their sticks, and their swords. And I thought, what if they beat up Veslin? What if they had some reason not to like him?\"\n\nLocke paused for breath. \"And I thought more, but I couldn't work it. I didn't know how. But then I thought, what if they weren't angry with Veslin? What if I used them as an excuse to make the master angry with Veslin?\"\n\nChains nodded sagely. \"And where did you get the white iron coin?\"\n\nLocke sighed. \"Streets. All of us who didn't like Veslin stole extra. We watched and we clutched and we worked hard. It took weeks. It took forever! I wanted white iron. I finally got one from a fat man dressed all in black wool. Funny coats and ties.\"\n\n\"A Vadran.\" Chains seemed bemused. \"Probably a merchant comedown to do some business. Too proud to dress for the weather at first, and sometimes too cheap to see a tailor in town. So, you got a white iron coin. A full crown.\"\n\n\"Everyone wanted to see it. Everyone wanted to touch it. I let them; then I made them be quiet. I made them promise not to talk about it. I told them it was how we were going to get Veslin.\"\n\n\"So what did you do with your coin?\"\n\n\"Put it in a purse, a little leather purse. The kind we clutched all the time. And hid it out in the city so it wouldn't get taken from us. A place we knew about, where nobody big could get to. And I made sure that Veslin and his friends were out of the hill, and I got the coin, and I went back in early one day. I gave up coppers and bread to the older girls on the door, but the coin was in my shoe.\" Here Locke paused and fiddled with his little lamp, making the red glow waver on his face." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I put it in Veslin's room." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The one where he and Gregor slept-one of the nice dry tombs. Center of the hill. I found a loose stone and hid the purse there, and when I was sure nobody had seen me, I asked to seethe master. I said that some of us had seen Veslin atone of the yellowjacket stations. That he'd taken money from them. That he'd shown it to us, and said that if we told on him he'd sell us to the yellowjackets.\"\n\n\"Amazing.\" Chains scratched his beard. \"You know you don't mumble and stutter quite so much when you're explaining how you fucked someone over?\"\n\nLocke blinked, then turned his chin up and stared hard at Chains. The older man laughed. \"Wasn't a criticism, son, and I didn't mean to dam the flow. Keep the story coming. How did you know your old master would take offense at this? Did the yellowjackets ever offer you or your friends money?\"\n\n\"No,\" Locke said. \"No, but I knew the master gave them money. For favors; for information. We saw him putting coins in purses, sometimes. So I figured, maybe I could work it the other way.\"\n\n\"Ah.\" Chains reached within the folds of his robe and withdrew a flat leather wallet, the color of baked bricks in the light of Locke's lamp. From this he withdrew a scrap of paper, onto which he shook a dark powder from another corner of the wallet. This object he rapidly folded end over end until it was a tight cylinder, and with courtly grace he lit one end by holding it in the lamp's flame. Soon he was sending ghostly gray swirls of smoke up to join the ghostly gray clouds; the stuff smelled like burning pine tar.\n\n\"Forgive me,\" Chains said, shifting his bulk to his right so his direct exhalations would miss the boy by a few feet. \"Two smokes a night is all I let myself have; the rough stuff before dinner, and the smooth stuff after. Makes everything taste better.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So I'm staying for dinner?\"\n\n\"Oh-ho, my cheeky little opportunist. Let's say the situation remains fluid. You go ahead and finish your story. You tipped your old master that Veslin was working as an auxiliary member of the famed Camorr constabulary. He must have thrown quite a fit.\"\n\n\"He said he'd kill me if I was lying.\" Locke scuttled to his own right, even farther from the smoke. \"But I said he'd hid the coin in his room. His and Gregor's. So... he tore it apart. I hid the coin real well, but he found it. He was supposed to.\"\n\n\"Mmmm. What did you expect to happen then?\"\n\n\"I didn't know they'd get killed!\" Chains couldn't hear any real grief in that soft and passionate little voice, but there seemed to be real puzzlement, real aggravation. \"I wanted him to beat Veslin. I thought maybe he'd do him up in front of all of us. We ate together, most nights. The whole hill. Fuck-ups had to do tricks, or serve and clean everything, sometimes get held down for caning. Drink ginger oil. I thought he'd get those things. Maybe all those things.\"\n\n\"Well.\" Chains held an inhalation of smoke fora particularly long moment, as though the tobacco could fill him with insight, and looked away from Locke. When he finally exhaled, he did so in little puffs, forming wobbly crescents that fluttered a few feet and faded into the general haze. He harrumphed and turned back to the boy. \"Well, you certainly learned the value of good intentions, didn't you? Caning. Cleaning and serving. Heh. Poor Veslin got cleaned and served, all right. How did your old master do it?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"He was gone fora few hours, and when he came back, he waited." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In Veslin's room. When Veslin and Gregor came back that night, there were older boys nearby. So they couldn't go anywhere. And then... the master just killed them. Both. Cut Veslin's throat, and... some of the others said he looked at Gregor fora while, and he didn't say anything, and then he just...\" Locke made the same sort of jabbing motion with two fingers that Chains had made at him earlier. \"He did Gregor, too.\"\n\n\"Of course he did! Poor Gregor. Gregor Foss, wasn't it? One of those lucky little orphans old enough to remember his last name, not unlike yourself. Of course your old master did him, too. He and Veslin were best friends, right? Two draughts from the same bottle. It was an elementary assumption that one would know that the other was hiding a fortune under a rock.\" Chains sighed and rubbed his eyes. \"Elementary. So, now that you've told your part, would you like me to point out where you fucked everything up? And to let you know why most of your little friends in Streets that helped you pluck that white iron coin are going to be dead before morning?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "IDLER'S DAY, THE eleventh hour of the morning, at the Shifting Revel. The sun was once again the baleful white of a diamond in afire, burning an arc across the empty sky and pouring down heat that could be felt against the skin. Locke stood beneath the silk awning atop Don Salvara's pleasure barge, dressed in the clothes and mannerisms of Lukas Fehrwight, and stared out at the gathering Revel.\n\nThere was a troupe of rope dancers perched atop a platform boat to his left; four of them, standing in a diamond pattern about fifteen feet apart. Great lengths of brightly colored silk rope stretched amongst the dancers, around their arms and chests and necks. It seemed that each dancer was working four or five strands simultaneously. These strands formed an ever-shifting cat's cradle between the dancers, and suspended in this web by clever hitches were all manner of small objects: swords, knives, overcoats, boots, glass statuettes, sparkling knickknacks. All these objects were slowly but gradually moving in various directions as the dancers twirled arms and shifted hips, slipping old knots loose and forming newer, tighter ones with impossibly smooth gestures.\n\nIt was a minor wonder on a busy river of wonders, not the least of which was Don and Doña Salvara's barge. While many nobles hauled trees to and from their orchards on the water, Locke's hosts were the first to go one step further. Their pleasure barge was a permanent floating orchard in miniature. Perhaps fifty paces long and twenty wide, it was a double-hulled wooden rectangle stuffed with soil to support a dozen oak and olive trees. Their trunks were a uniform night-black, and their rustling cascades of leaves were unnatural emerald, bright as lacquer-an outward testimony to the subtle science of alchemical botany." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Wide circular stairs crisscrossed with patches of leafy shade wound up several of these trees, leading to the don's silk-topped observation box, comfortably perched within the branches to give the occupants an unobstructed forward view. On each side of this supremely ostentatious sliver of floating forest were twenty hired rowers, seated on outrigger-like structures that kept the top-heavy central portion of the yacht from plunging sideways.\n\nThe box could easily hold twenty; this morning it held only Locke and Jean, the don and the doña, and the ever-watchful Conté, currently tending a liquor cabinet so elaborate it might have been mistaken for an apothecary's lab. Locke returned his gaze to the rope dancers, feeling a strange kinship with them. They weren't the only ones with ample opportunity to screw up a delicate public act this morning.\n\n\"Master Fehrwight, your clothes!\" Doña Sofia Salvara shared the forward rail of the observation box with him, her hands scant inches from his. \"You would look so very fine in one of your Emberlain winters, but why must you suffer them in our summer? You shall sweat yourself as red as arose! Might you not take something off?\"\n\n\"I... my lady, I am, I assure you... most comfortable.\" Thirteen gods, she was actually flirting with him. And the little smile that crept on and off her husband's face told Locke that the Salvaras had planned this in advance. A little close feminine attention to fluster the awkward master merchant; perfectly staged and perfectly common. A game before the game, so to speak. \"I find that whatever discomfort these clothes bring me in your... very interesting climate only serves to, to goad me. Into concentrating. Keeps me alert, you see. A better, ah, man of business.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean, standing a few paces behind the two of them, bit his tongue. Throwing blondes at Locke Lamora was not unlike throwing lettuce at sharks, and the Doña Sofia was very blonde; one of those gorgeous Therin rarities with skin like burnt amber and hair the color of almond butter. Her eyes were deep and steady, her curves artfully not concealed by a dark orange summer dress with a cream-white underskirt barely showing at the hem. Well, it was just the Salvaras' luck to run up against a thief with the most peculiar damned taste in women. Jean could admire the doña for them both; his limited role today (and his'injuries\") would give him little else to do.\n\n\"Our Master Fehrwight is made of unusually stern stuff, my dear.\" Don Lorenzo lounged in afar corner of the forward rail, dressed in loose white silks and an orange vest matching his wife's dress. His white neckerchiefs hung rakishly loose, and only the bottom clasp of his vest was fastened. \"Yesterday he took the beating of a lifetime; today he wears enough wool for five men and dares the sun to do its worst. I must say, I'm more and more pleased with myself that I've kept you out of Jacobo's grasp, Lukas.\"\n\nLocke acknowledged the smiling don with a slight bow and an agreeably awkward smile of his own.\n\n\"Do at least have something to drink, Master Fehrwight.\" Doña Sofia's hand briefly settled over Locke's, long enough for him to feel the assorted calluses and chemical burns no manicure could conceal. She was a true alchemical botanist, then; this barge washer direct handiwork as well as her general design. A formidable talent-by implication, a calculating woman. Lorenzo was obviously the more impulsive one, and if he was wise he'd weigh his wife's opinion before agreeing to any of Lukas Fehrwight's proposals. Locke therefore favored her with ashy smile and an awkward cough. Let her think she was getting to him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A drink would be very pleasing,\" he said. \"But, ah, I fear that you shall have no reassurance for my condition, kind Doña Sofia. I have done much business in your city; I know how drinking is done here, when men and women speak of business.\"\n\n\"\"Morning's for sweat, and night's for regret,\"\" Don Salvara said as he stepped from the rail and gestured to his servant. \"Conté, I do believe Master Fehrwight has just requested nothing less than a ginger scald.\"\n\nConté moved adroitly to fill this request, first selecting a tall crystal wine flute, into which he poured two fingers of purest Camorri ginger oil, the color of scorched cinnamon. To this he added a sizable splash of milky pear brandy, followed by a transparent heavy liquor called ajento, which was actually a cooking wine flavored with radishes. When this cocktail was mixed, Conté wrapped a wet towel around the fingers of his left hand and reached fora covered brazier smoldering to the side of the liquor cabinet. He withdrew a slender metal rod, glowing orange-red at the tip, and plunged it into the cocktail; there was an audible hiss and a small puff of spicy steam. Once the rod was stanched, Conté stirred the drink briskly and precisely three times, then presented it to Locke on a thin silver plate.\n\nLocke had practiced this ritual many times over the years, but when the cold burn of the ginger scald hit his lips (limning every tiny crack with stinging heat, and outlining every crevice between teeth and gums in exquisite pain-even before it went to work on tongue and throat), he was never able to fully hold back the memories of Shades'Hill and of the Thiefmaker's admonishments; of a liquid fire that seemed to creep up his sinuses and burn behind his eyes until he wanted to tear them out. Expressing discomfort at his first sip of the drink was much easier than feigning interest in the doña." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Incomparable.\" He coughed, and then, with quick jerky motions, he loosened his black neck-cloths just the slightest bit; the Salvaras smirked charmingly together. \"I'm reminded again why I have such success selling gentler liquors to you people.\"\n\nONCE PER month, there was no trading done in the Shifting Market. Every fourth Idler's Day, the merchants stayed clear of the great sheltered circle abutting the Angevine River; instead, they drifted or anchored nearby while half the city came out to seethe Shifting Revel.\n\nCamorr had never possessed a great stone or Elderglass amphitheater, and had fallen instead into the curious custom of rebuilding its spectator circle anew at each Revel. Huge multistoried observation barges were towed out and anchored firmly against the stone breakwaters surrounding the Shifting Market, like floating slices cut from the heart of great stadiums. Each barge was operated by a rival family or merchant combine and decked in unique livery; they competed fiercely with one another to fill their seats, and intervessel brawls between the habitual customers of particularly beloved barges were not unknown.\n\nWhen properly aligned, these barges formed an arc about halfway around the circumference of the Shifting Market. A channel was left clear for boats entering and leaving the center of the calm water, and the rest of the periphery was reserved for the pleasure barges of the nobility. A good hundred or so could be counted on at any Revel, and half again as many for major festivals, such as this one; less than three weeks remained until the Midsummer-mark and the Day of Changes.\n\nEven before the entertainments began the Shifting Revel was its own spectacle-a great tide of rich and poor, floating and on foot, jostling for position in a traditional contest much loved for its lack of rules. The yellowjackets were always out in force, but more to prevent hard words and fisticuffs from escalating than to prevent disturbances altogether. The Revel was a citywide debauch, a rowdy public service the duke was happy to underwrite from his treasury. There were few things like a good Revel to pull the fangs from any unrest before it had time to fester." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Feeling the fire of the approaching noon despite the silk awning over their heads, Locke and his hosts compounded their situation by drinking ginger scalds as they stared out across the rippling heat haze at thousands of Camorri packing the commoner barges. Conté had prepared identical drinks for his lord and lady (though with a touch less ginger oil, perhaps?), which'Graumann\" had served them, as Camorri etiquette dictated in these situations. Locke's glass was half-empty; the liquor was a ball of expanding warmth in his stomach and a vivid memory in his throat.\n\n\"Business,\" he said at last. \"You have both been... so kind to Grau and myself. I agreed to repay this kindness by revealing my business herein Camorr. So let us speak of it, if that would please you.\"\n\n\"You have never had a more eager audience in your life, Master Fehrwight.\" The don's hired rowers were bringing them into the Shifting Revel proper, and closing on dozens of more traditional pleasure barges, some of them crammed with dozens or hundreds of guests. The don's eyes were alive with greedy curiosity. \"Tell on.\"\n\n\"The Kingdom of the Seven Marrows is coming apart at the seams.\" Locke sighed. \"This is no secret.\"\n\nThe don and the doña nonchalantly sipped their drinks, saying nothing.\n\n\"The Canton of Emberlain is peripheral to the major conflict. But the Graf von Emberlain and the Black Table are both working-indifferent, ah, directions-to place it in the way of substantial harm.\"\n\n\"The Black Table?\" asked the don.\n\n\"I beg pardon.\" Locke took the tiniest sip of his drink and let new fire trickle under his tongue. \"The Black Table is what we call the council of Emberlain's most powerful merchants. My masters of the House of bel Auster are among them. In every respect save the military and the matter of taxes, they run the Canton of Emberlain. And they are tired of the Graf, and tired of the Trade Guilds in the other six cantons of the Marrows. Tired of limitations. Emberlain grows rich on new means of speculation and enterprise. The Black Table sees the old guilds as a weight around their neck.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Curious,\" said the doña, \"that you say \"their\" and not \"our.\" Is this significant?\"\n\n\"To a point.\" Another sip of the drink; a second of feigned nervousness. \"The House of bel Auster agrees that the guilds have outlasted their usefulness; that the trade practices of centuries past should not beset in stone by guild law. We do not necessarily agree\"-he sipped the drink yet again, and scratched the back of his head-\"that, ah, the Graf von Emberlain should be deposed while he is out of the canton with most of his army, showing his flagon behalf of his cousins in Parlay and Somnay.\"\n\n\"Holy Twelve!\" Don Salvara shook his head as though to clear it of what he'd just heard. \"They can't be serious. Your state is... smaller than the Duchy of Camorr! Exposed to the sea on two sides. Impossible to defend.\"\n\n\"And yet the preparations are underway. Emberlain's banks and merchant houses do four times the yearly business of the next richest canton in the Marrows. The Black Table fixates upon this. Gold should certainly be considered potential power; the Black Table errs by imagining it to be direct power, in and of itself.\" He finished his drink in one long, deliberate draught. \"In two months, civil war will have broken out anyway. The succession is a mess. The Stradas and the Dvorims, the Razuls and the Strigs-they are all sharpening knives and parading men. Yet, as we speak, the merchants of Emberlain are moving to arrest the remaining nobility while the Graf is away. To claim the navy. To raise a levy of'free citizens. ' To hire mercenaries. In short, they will now attempt to secede from the Marrows. It is unavoidable.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And what, specifically, does this have to do with you coming here?\" The doña's knuckles were white around her wine flute; she grasped the full significance of Fehrwight's story. A fight larger than anything seen in centuries-civil war mixed with possible economic disaster.\n\n\"It is the opinion of my masters, the House of bel Auster, that rats in the hold have little chance to take the wheel of a ship that is about to run aground. But those same rats may very easily abandon the ship.\"\n\nIN THE center of the Shifting Revel, a great many tall iron cages had been sunk into the water. Some of these served to support wooden slats on which performers, victims, fighters, and attendants could stand; a few particularly heavy cages restrained dark shapes that circled ominously under the translucent gray water. Platform boats were rowed around at a steady clip, showing off rope dancers, knife throwers, acrobats, jugglers, strongmen, and other curiosities; the excited shouts of barkers with long brass speaking trumpets echoed flatly off the water.\n\nFirst up at any Revel were the Penance Bouts, where petty offenders from the Palace of Patience could volunteer for mismatch combat in exchange for reduced sentences or slightly improved living conditions. At present, a hugely muscled nichavezzo (\"punishing hand\"), one of the duke's own household guard, was handing out the beatings. The soldier was armored in black leather, with a gleaming steel breastplate and a steel helmet crested with the freshly severed fin of a giant flying fish. Scales and spines scintillated as the soldier stepped back and forth under the bright sun, striking out seemingly at leisure with an iron-shod staff.\n\nThe nichavezzo stood on a platform that was small but rock-steady; a series of circular wooden flats surrounded him, separated by an arm's-length span of water. These wobbly, unstable platforms were occupied by about two dozen slender, grimy prisoners, each armed with a small wooden cudgel. A concerted rush might have overwhelmed their armored tormentor, but this lot seemed to lack the temperament for cooperation. Approaching the nichavezzo singly or in little groups, they were being dropped, one after another, with skull-rattling blows. Little boats circled to fish out unconscious prisoners before they slipped under the water forever; the duke, in his mercy, did not allow Penance Bouts to be deliberately lethal." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Mmmm.\" Locke held his empty wine flute out for just a second; Conté plucked it out of his fingers with the grace of a swordsman disarming an opponent. When the don's manservant stepped toward the liquor cabinet, Locke cleared his throat. \"No need to refill that particular glass just yet, Conté. Too kind, too kind. But with your permission, my lord and lady Salvara, I should like to offer a pair of gifts. One as a matter of simple hospitality. The other as a... well, you'll see. Graumann?\"\n\nLocke snapped his fingers, and Jean nodded. The heavyset man moved over to a wooden table just beside the liquor cabinet and picked up two heavy leather satchels, each of which had iron-reinforced corners and small iron locks sewn into their covers. Jean set these down where the Salvaras could easily see them, and then stepped back so Locke could unseal the satchels with a delicate key of carved ivory. From the first satchel, he withdrew a cask of pale aromatic wood, perhaps one foot in height and half that in diameter, which he then held out for Don Salvara's examination. A plain black brand on the surface of the cask read:\n\nDon Lorenzo's breath hissed in between his teeth; perhaps his nostrils even flared, though Locke kept the face of Lukas Fehrwight politely neutral. \"Twelve gods, a 502. Lukas, if I seemed to be teasing you for your refusal to part with your goods, please accept my deepest-\"\n\n\"You needn't apologize, my lord.\" Locke held up a hand and mimicked the don's gesture for shooing words down out of the air. \"For your bold intervention on my behalf, Don Salvara, and for your excellent hospitality this morning, fair doña, please accept this minor ornament for your cellars.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Minor!\" The don took the cask and cradled it as though it were an infant not five minutes born. \"I... I have a 506 and a pair of 504s. I don't know of anyone in Camorr that has a 502, except probably the duke.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Locke, \"my masters have kept a few on hand, ever since the word got out that it was a particularly good blend. We use them to... break the ice, in matters of grave business importance.\" In truth, that cask represented an investment of nearly eight hundred full crowns and a sea trip up the coast to Ashmere, where Locke and Jean had contrived to win it from an eccentric minor noble in a rigged card game. Most of the money had actually gone to evade or buy off the assassins the old man had later sent after his property; the 502 vintage had become almost too precious to drink.\n\n\"What a grand gesture, Master Fehrwight!\" Doña Sofia slipped a hand through the crook of her husband's elbow and gave him a possessive grin. \"Lorenzo, love, you should try to rescue strangers from Emberlain more often. They're so charming!\"\n\nLocke coughed and shuffled his feet. \"Ahh, hardly, my lady. Now, Don Salvara-\"\n\n\"Please, do call me Lorenzo.\"\n\n\"Ah, Don Lorenzo, what I have to show you next relates rather directly to my reason for coming here.\" From the second satchel, he drew out a similar cask, but this one was marked only with a stylized \"A\" within a circle of vines.\n\n\"This,\" said Locke, \"is a sample drawn from last year's distillation. The 559.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Don Salvara dropped the cask of 502.\n\nThe doña, with girlish agility, shot out her right foot to hook the cask in midair and let it down to the deck with a slight thump rather than a splintering crash. Unbalanced, she did manage to drop her ginger scald; the glass vanished over the side and was soon twenty feet underwater. The Salvaras steadied one another, and the don picked his cask of 502 backup, his hands shaking.\n\n\"Lukas,\" he said, \"surely-surely you must be kidding.\"\n\nLOCKE DIDN'T find it particularly easy to eat lunch while watching a dozen swimming men being pulled apart by a Jereshti devilfish, but he decided that his master merchant of Emberlain had probably seen worse, in his many imaginary sea voyages, and he kept his true feelings far from his face.\n\nNoon was well past; the Penance Bouts were over, and the Revel-masters had moved onto the Judicial Forfeitures. This was a polite way of saying that the men in the water were murderers, rapists, slavers, and arsonists selected to be colorfully executed for the amusement of the Revel crowds. Technically speaking, they were armed and would receive lesser sentences if they could somehow contrive to slay whatever beast they were matched against, but the beasts were always as nasty as their weapons were laughable, so mostly they were just executed.\n\nThe devilfish's tentacles were twelve feet long-the same length as its undulating gray-and-black striped body. The creature was confined within a sixty-foot circle of cages and platforms, along with a number of screaming, flailing, water-treading men-most of whom had long since dropped their slender little daggers into the water. Nervous guards armed with crossbows and pikes patrolled the platform, shoving prisoners back into the water if they tried to scramble out. Occasionally, the devilfish would rollover in the churning red waters and Locke would catch a glimpse of one lidless black eye the size of a soup bowl-not unlike the bowl currently held in his hands." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"More, Master Fehrwight?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Conté hovered nearby with the silver tureen of chilled soup cradled in his hands; white-fleshed Iron Sea prawns floated in a heavy red tomato base seasoned with peppers and onions. Don and Doña Salvara were a peculiar sort of droll.\n\n\"No, Conté, most kind, but I'm well satisfied for the time being.\" Locke set his soup bowl down beside the broached cask of'559\" (actually a bottle of lowly fifty-crown 550 liberally mixed with the roughest overpriced rum Jean had been able to get his hands on) and took a sip of the amber liquor from his snifter. Even mixed with crap, the counterfeit was delicious. Graumann stood attentively behind Locke's hosts, who were seated opposite Locke at the intimate little table of oiled silverwood. Doña Sofia toyed unself-consciously with a subtlety of gelled orange slices, paper-thin and arranged in whorls to form edible tulip blossoms. Don Lorenzo stared down at the snifter of brandy in his hands, his eyes still wide.\n\n\"It seems almost... sacrilegious!\" Despite this sentiment, the don took a deep gulp of the stuff, satisfaction well evident in the lines of his face. In the distance behind him, something that might have been a severed torso flew up into the air and came back down with a splash; the crowd roared approval.\n\nAustershalin brandy was famously aged fora minimum of seven years after distillation and blending; it was impossible for outsiders to get their hands on a cask any sooner than that. The House of bel Auster's factors were forbidden even to speak of the batches that were not yet on sale; the location of the vintner's aging-houses was a secret that was reportedly guarded by assassination when necessary. Don Lorenzo had been struck stupid when Locke had casually offered up a cask of 559; he had nearly thrown up when Locke had just as casually opened the seal and suggested they share it with lunch." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is.\" Locke chuckled. \"The brandy is the religion of my House. So many rules, so many rituals, so many penalties!\" No longer smiling, he drew a quick finger across his throat. \"It's possible we're the only people in history to have an unaged sample with a lunch of soup. I thought you might enjoy it.\"\n\n\"I am!\" The don swirled the liquor in his glass and stared at it, as though hypnotized by the soft caramel-colored translucence. \"And I'm dead curious about what sort of scheme you've got up your sleeve, Lukas.\"\n\n\"Well.\" Locke swirled his own drink theatrically. \"There have been three invasions of Emberlain in the past two hundred and fifty years. Let's be frank; the succession rites of the Kingdom of the Marrows always involve armies and blood before they involve blessings and banquets. When the Grafs quarrel, the Austershalin mountains are our only landward barrier, and the site of heavy fighting. This fighting inevitably spills down the eastern slopes of the mountains. Right through the vineyards of the House of bel Auster. How could it be different this time? Thousands of men and horses coming over the passes. Trampling the vineyards. Sacking everything insight. It might even be worse, now that we have fire-oil. Our vineyards could be ashes half a year from now.\"\n\n\"You can't exactly pack your vineyards up and take them with you if you... jump ship,\" said Don Lorenzo.\n\n\"No.\" Locke sighed. \" It's the Austershalin soils, in part, that make Austershalin brandy. If we lose those vineyards, it will be just as it was before-an interruption in growth and distillation. Ten, twenty, maybe even thirty years. Or more. And it gets worse. Our position is terrible. The Graf can't let Emberlain's ports and revenue go if the Marrows are coming to civil war. He and his allies will storm the place as fast as possible. They'll likely put the Black Table to the sword, impound their goods and properties, nationalize their funds. The House of bel Auster won't be spared." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"At the moment, the Black Table is acting quietly but firmly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Grau and I sailed five days ago, just twelve hours before we knew the port would be sealed off. No Emberlain-flagged ships are being allowed out; they're all being docked and secured for'repairs'or'quarantine. \"Nobles still loyal to the Graf are under house arrest by now, their guards disarmed. Our funds, in various lending houses of Emberlain, have been temporarily frozen. All the Black Table merchant houses have consented to do this to one another. It makes it impossible for any house to flee en masse, with its gold and its goods. Currently, Grau and I are operating on our local credit line, established at Meraggio's years ago. My House... well, we simply didn't keep our funds outside Emberlain. Just a bit here and therefor emergencies.\"\n\nLocke watched the Salvaras very closely for their reaction; his news from Emberlain was as fresh and specific as possible, but the don might have sources of intelligence the Gentlemen Bastards hadn't spotted in their weeks of surveillance and preparation. The parts about the Black Table and the impending civil war were solid, educated speculation; the part about a sudden port closure and house arrests was pure homespun bullshit. In Locke's estimation, the real mess in Emberlain wouldn't start fora few months. If the don was wise to this, the game might be blown. Conté might be trying to pin Locke to the table with his daggers in just a few seconds. And then Jean would pullout the hatchets he had concealed down the back of his vest, and everyone in the little group beneath the silk awning would get very, very uncomfortable.\n\nBut the Salvaras said nothing; they merely continued to stare at him with eyes that plainly invited him to goon. Emboldened, he continued: \"This situation is unbearable. We will neither be hostages to a cause that we barely profess, nor victims for the Graf's vengeance upon his inevitable return. We choose a... somewhat risky alternative. One that would require substantial aid from a noble of Camorr. You, Don Salvara, if it is within your means.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The don and his wife had clasped hands under the table; he waved his hand at Locke excitedly.\n\n\"We can surrender our funds. By taking no steps to secure them, we buy ourselves more time to act. And we are quite confident that replacing those funds will merely be a matter of time and effort. We can even abandon\"-Locke gritted his teeth-\"we can even abandon our vineyards. We will completely burn them ourselves, leaving nothing to anyone else. After all, we enhance the soil ourselves, alchemically. And the secret of that enhancement is kept only in the hearts of our Planting Masters.\"\n\n\"The Austershalin Process,\" Sofia breathed, betrayed by her own rising excitement.\n\n\"Of course, you've heard of it. Well, there are only three Planting Masters at any given time. And the Process is complex enough to defy soil examination-even by someone with talents such as yours, my lady. Many of the compounds our alchemists use are inert, and intended only to confuse the matter. So that's that.\n\n\"The one thing we cannot abandon is our stock of aging blends; the last six years, batched in their casks. And certain rare vintages and special experiments. We store the Austershalin in thirty-two gallon casks; there are nearly six thousand such casks in our possession. We have to get them out of Emberlain. We have to do it in the next few weeks, before the Black Table imposes harsher control measures and before the Graf begins laying siege to his canton. And now our ships are under guard, and all of our funds are untouchable.\"\n\n\"You want... you want to get all of these casks out of Emberlain? All of them?\" The don actually gulped.\n\n\"As many as possible,\" said Locke." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"And for this you would involve us how?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Doña Sofia was fidgeting.\n\n\"Emberlain-flagged ships can no longer leave port, nor enter if they wish to escape again. But-a small flotilla of Camorr-flagged ships, with Camorri crews, financed by a Camorri noble...\" Locke set his glass of brandy down and spread both his hands in the air.\n\n\"You wish me to provide... a naval expedition?\"\n\n\"Two or three of your larger galleons should do it. We're looking at a thousand tons of cargo-casks and brandy alike. Minimal crew, say fifty or sixty men a ship. We can take our pick of the docks and get sober, trustworthy captains. Six or seven days beating north, plus however long it takes to scratch the crews and ships together. I guess less than a week. Do you concur?\"\n\n\"A week... yes, but... you're asking me to finance all of this?\"\n\n\"In exchange fora most handsome recompense, I assure you.\"\n\n\"Provided everything goes well, yes, and we'll come to the matter of recompense in a moment. But just the rapid acqusition of two galleons, good captains, and very reliable crews-\"\n\n\"Plus,\" said Locke, \"something to stick in the hold for the trip north. Cheap grain, dried cheese, low-grade fresh fruit. Nothing special. But Emberlain will shortly be under siege; the Black Table will be happy to have a cache of extra supplies offloaded. Emberlain's position is too tenuous to fail to respect the sovereign neutrality of Camorr; that's what my masters are counting onto get the ships in and out. But added insurance cannot hurt.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Don Lorenzo, tugging on his lower lip. \"Two galleons, crews, officers, cheap cargo. A small crew of mercenaries, tenor twelve a ship. There are always some hanging around the Viscount's Gate this time of year. I'd want a hard corps of armed men on each ship to discourage... complications.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke nodded.\n\n\"So, how exactly would we go about removing the casks from your aging-houses and transporting them to the docks?\"\n\n\"Avery simple ruse,\" said Locke. \"We maintain several breweries and storehouses for small beer; it's a sideline, a sort of hobby for some of our Blending Masters. Our beer is stored in casks, and the location of these warehouses is public knowledge. Slowly, carefully, while Grau and I sailed south, my masters have been moving casks of Austershalin brandy to the beer warehouses and relabeling them. They will continue to do so while we prepare here, and until our ships appear in the harbor of Emberlain.\"\n\n\"So you won't be loading brandy in secret.\" Doña Sofia clapped her hands together. \"As far as anyone knows, you'll be loading beer in the open!\"\n\n\"Exactly, my lady. Even a large export of beer won't be anywhere near as suspicious as a movement of the unaged brandy. It'll be looked on as a commercial coup; we'll be the first to dodge the interdict on Emberlain-flagged vessels. We'll bring in a pile of supplies for the coming siege and a fine apparent profit for ourselves. Then, once we've got all the brandy loaded, we'll putout to sea, bringing sixty or seventy bel Auster family and employees to form the nucleus of our new business operations in Camorr. Discovery after that will be immaterial.\"\n\n\"All of this to be thrown together on short notice.\" Don Lorenzo was deep in thought. \"Fifteen thousand crowns, I'd say. Perhaps twenty.\"\n\n\"I concur, my lord. Count on an additional five thousand or so, for bribes and other arrangements.\" Locke shrugged. \"Certain men are going to have to look the other way for us to do our job when we reach Emberlain, warehouse ruse or no.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Twenty-five thousand crowns, then. Damn.\" Lorenzo downed the last of the brandy in his glass, set it down, and folded his hands together on the table before him. \"You're asking me for more than half of my fortune. I like you, Lukas, but now it's time to discuss the other side of the proposal.\"\n\n\"Of course.\" Lukas stopped to offer the don another dash of the counterfeit'unaged\"; the don began to wave him off, but his taste buds prevailed over his better judgment, and he held out his glass. Doña Sofia did so as well, and Jean hurried over to pass her glass between her and Locke. When he'd served the Salvaras, Locke poured a companionably large amount into his own snifter. \" First, you have to understand what the House of bel Auster is and is not offering.\n\n\"You will never have the Austershalin Process. It will continue to be passed down, verbally, and strictly within the House. We can offer you no properties as collateral or in payment; we expect to forfeit them upon fleeing Emberlain. Resecuring the vineyards at a future date is our own problem.\n\n\"Any effort on your part to pry into the Austershalin Process, to suborn any bel Auster men or women, will be regarded as an absolute breach of trust.\" Locke sipped brandy. \"I have no idea what specific penalties we could levy to express our displeasure, but it would be fully expressed. I am instructed to be entirely clear on this point.\"\n\n\"And so you are.\" Doña Sofia placed one hand on her husband's left shoulder. \"But these limitations are not yet an offer.\"\n\n\"Forgive me, gracious Doña Sofia, for speaking to you like this. But you must understand-this is the most important thing the House of bel Auster has ever contemplated. Grau and I hold the future of our combine in our rather vulnerable hands. At this moment, I can't speak to you just as your luncheon guest Lukas Fehrwight. I am the House of bel Auster. You have to understand that somethings are not on the table, not even by the most remote implication.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Salvaras nodded as one, Sofia just a bit more slowly than Lorenzo.\n\n\"Now. Consider the situation. War is coming to Emberlain. Our vineyards and our properties areas good as lost. And without those vineyards, there will be no Austershalin actually produced for only the Marrows know how long. Ten years? A generation? Even when we have the vineyards back, the soil will need years to recover. This is the way it has been, three times before. For many, many years to come, the only new Austershalin available is going to come from whatever portion of those six thousand casks we can move out of Emberlain, like thieves in the night. Imagine the demand. The price escalation.\"\n\nThe don's lips moved unconsciously as he calculated; Doña Sofia stared off into the distance, her brow furrowed. Austershalin brandy was the finest and most sought-after liquor known; even the alchemical wines of Tal Verrar, in a hundred bewitching varieties, were not as expensive. A single half-gallon bottle of the youngest available Austershalin was thirty full crowns at retail; the price went up sharply with age. With a surprise shortage, a fixed supply, and no new crop of Austershalin grapes insight?\n\n\"Fuck damn,\" said Conté, totally unable to help himself when the sums involved vanished over his mental horizon. \"Beg pardon, Doña Sofia.\"\n\n\"You should.\" She drained her snifter in one quick unladylike gulp.\n\n\"Your calculations are off. This merits a triple fuckdamn at least.\"\n\n\"The House of bel Auster,\" Locke continued, \"wishes to establish a partnership with you, based in Camorr, to store and market Austershalin brandy during our... interregnum. In exchange for your assistance in transporting it from Emberlain in our moment of extreme need, we are prepared to offer you fifty percent of the proceeds from the sale of anything you transport for us. Again, consider the situation, and the price of Austershalin during a shortage. You could recoup your initial investment ten times over in the first year. Give us five years, or ten...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes.\" Don Lorenzo fiddled with his optics. \"But Lukas, somehow, sitting here discussing the possible destruction of your House and a move to a city half a thousand miles to the south, you don't sound... entirely displeased.\"\n\nLocke used a particularly endearing wry smile he'd once practiced before a mirror-glass for weeks. \"When my masters grasped the essence of their current situation, some of them suggested we should have engineered an artificial shortage years ago. As it is, we are determined that we can turn a painful setback into a glorious return. Those six thousand casks, sold at shortage prices over a number of years... We could return to Emberlain with a fortune that eclipses everything we'd be leaving behind. And as for your own situation...\"\n\n\"We're not talking about hundreds of thousands of crowns.\" Doña Sofia returned from her thoughtful trance. \"We're talking about millions. Even split between us.\"\n\n\"It would be foolish to presume too much, but yes-there is the possibility that the sums involved could reach such figures. My masters are also prepared to grant one final compensation, upon our successful return to Emberlain and the restoration of the Austershalin vineyards. We offer your family a permanent stake in all bel Auster operations thereafter; certainly nothing close to a controlling interest, but something respectable. A ten to fifteen percent share. You would be the first and, we hope, the only foreigners ever offered such an interest.\"\n\nThere was a brief pause. \"That's... a very attractive offer,\" Don Salvara said at last. \"And to think all this was going to fall into Jacobo's lap simply by default. By the gods, Lukas, if we ever cross paths with those thieves again, I'm going to thank them for arranging our introduction.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well,\" Locke chuckled, \"I for my part can let bygones be bygones. Graumann might feel somewhat differently. And the fact remains that while I sense we maybe shaking hands very soon, we still have to assemble our ships, sail north to Emberlain, and snatch up our prize. The situation is like a damaged cargo rope, unraveling down to a single thread.\" He saluted the Salvaras with his brandy snifter. \"It will snap.\"\n\nOut on the water, the devilfish was victorious, and the guards rewarded it for its service by filling it with poisoned crossbow bolts. Boat hooks and chains were used to haul the carcass out of the center of the Shifting Revel; there was just no putting a creature like that back into the box once it had served its purpose. The monster's red blood mixed with that of its victims and slowly settled in abroad, dark cloud; even this had a deliberate part to play in what was to come next.\n\nSCHOLARS OF the Therin Collegium, from their comfortable position well inland, could tell you that the wolf sharks of the Iron Sea are beautiful and fascinating creatures, their bodies more packed with muscle than any bull, their abrasive hide streaked with every color from old-copper green to stormcloud black. Anyone actually working the waterfront in Camorr and on the nearby coast could tell you that wolf sharks are big aggressive bastards that like to jump.\n\nCarefully caged, starved, and maddened by blood, wolf sharks are the key to the customary highlight of the Shifting Revel. Other cities have gladiatorial games; other cities pit men against animals. But only in Camorr can you see a specially armed gladiator (a contrarequialla) battle alive, leaping shark, and in Camorr only women are allowed by tradition to be contrarequialla." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This is the Teeth Show.\n\nLOCKE COULDN'T tell if the four women were truly beautiful, but they were undeniably striking. They were all dark-skinned Camorri with muscles like farm girls, imposing even at a distance, and they wore next to nothing-tight black cotton shifts across their chests, wrestler's loincloths, and thin leather gloves. Their black hair was pulled back under the traditional red bandannas and threaded with brass and silver bangles that caught the sunlight in chains of white flashes. The purpose of these bangles was a matter of argument; some claimed that they confused the poor eyesight of the sharks, while just as many claimed that their glare helped the monsters better sight their prey.\n\nEach contrarequialla carried two weapons; a short javelin in one hand and a special axe in the other. These axes had grips enclosed by full handguards, making them difficult to lose; they were double-headed, with the expected curved blade on one side and along, sturdy pick-head on the other. A skilled fighter usually tried to slash a shark's fins and tail to nothing before making a kill; few but the very best could kill with anything but the spike. Wolf sharkskin could be like tree bark.\n\nLocke stared at the grim women and felt his usual melancholy admiration. They were, to his eyes, as mad as they were courageous.\n\n\"I know that's Cicilia de Ricura there, on the far left.\" Don Lorenzo was pointing the women out for Lukas Fehrwight's benefit, taking a break from more than an hour of rapid negotiations. \"She's decent. And beside her is Aganesse, who carries her javelin but never, ever uses it. The other two, well, they must be new. At least new to the Revel.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"It's so unfortunate,\" said the Doña, \"that the Berangias sisters aren't out there today, Master Fehrwight." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They're the best.\"\n\n\"Probably the best there ever has been.\" Don Salvara squinted to cut some of the glare rising off the water and tried to estimate the size of the sharks, barely visible as shadows within their cages. \"Or ever will be. But they haven't been at the Revel for the past few months.\"\n\nLocke nodded and chewed on the inside of one of his cheeks. As Locke Lamora, garrista of the Gentlemen Bastards and respectable sneak thief, he knew the Berangias twins personally. He also knew exactly where they'd been for those past few months.\n\nOut on the water, the first fighter was taking her position. Contrarequialla fought across a series of stepping-stone platforms, each about two feet wide and raised half afoot off the water. These platforms were set out in a square grid, four or five feet apart, leaving plenty of room for the opposition to swim between them. The women would have to hop between these platforms at a rapid pace to strikeout at the sharks while dodging leaps in return; a slip into the water was usually the end of the contest.\n\nBeyond the line of shark cages (opened by chain pulleys connected to a barge well beyond the periphery of any possible shark activity) there was a little boat, crewed by (extremely well-paid) volunteer rowers and carrying the three traditional observers of any Teeth Show. First, there was a priest of Iono in his sea-green robes fringed with silver. Beside him there was a black-robed, silver-masked priestess of Aza Guilla, Lady of the Long Silence, Goddess of Death. Lastly, there was a physiker, whose presence had always struck Locke as an extremely optimistic gesture.\n\n\"Camorr!\" The young woman-apparently Cicilia de Ricura-raised her weapons into the air over her head. The heavy murmur of the crowd subsided, leaving only the noise of water lapping against boats and breakwaters. Fifteen thousand watchers held their collective breath. \"I dedicate this death to Duke Nicovante, our lord and patron!\" Such was the traditional phrasing of the contrarequialla 's salute; \"this death\" could conveniently refer to either participant in the battle." }, { "from": "human", "value": "With a great flourish of trumpets and the cheer of the crowd, the boatmen outside the circle of cages loosed the afternoon's first shark." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The ten-foot fish, already blood-mad, shot forth from imprisonment and began to circle the stepping platforms, its ominous gray fin slicing a rippling line in the water. Cicilia balanced on one foot and bent down to slap the water with the heel of the other, screaming oaths and challenges. The shark took the bait; in a few seconds it was in amongst the platforms, stocky body whipping back and forth like a toothy pendulum.\n\n\"This one doesn't like to waste time!\" Don Salvara actually wrung his hands together. \"I bet it's an early leaper.\"\n\nBarely had these words escaped his mouth than the shark rocketed up out of the water in a fountain of silver spray, hurling itself at the crouching fighter. The shark's leap was not a high one; Cicilia avoided it by jumping right, to the next platform over. In midair she let her javelin go with a backhanded cast; the shaft sunk into the shark's flank and quivered therefor a split second before the streamlined mass of hungry muscle splashed back down into the water. Crowd reaction was mixed; the cast had displayed remarkable agility but minimal power. Cicilia's shark was likely only further angered, and her javelin wasted.\n\n\"Oh, poor decision.\" The doña clicked her tongue. \"This girl needs to learn some patience. We'll see if her new friend gives her the chance.\"\n\nThrashing, spraying pink-foamed water, the shark maneuvered for another attack, chasing Cicilia's shadow on the water. She hopped from platform to platform, axe reversed so the spike was facing outward.\n\n\"Master Fehrwight.\" Don Lorenzo removed his optics and played with them while he watched the fight; apparently, they weren't necessary for use at long distances. \"I can accept your terms, but you have to appreciate that my portion of the initial risk is quite heavy, especially relative to my total available funds. My request, therefore, is that the split of revenues from our Austershalin sales be adjusted to fifty-five, forty-five, in my favor.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke pretended to ponder while Cicilia pumped her arms and leaped for dear life, the eager gray fin slashing through the water just behind her feet. \"I'm authorized to make such a concession on behalf of my masters. In return... I would fix your family's ownership interest in the resecured Austershalin vineyards at five percent.\"\n\n\"Done!\" The don smiled. \"I will fund two large galleons, crew and officers, necessary bribes and arrangements, and a cargo to take north with us. I'll oversee one galleon; you the other. Mercenary crews of my choosing to be placed aboard each vessel for added security. Conté will travel with you; your Graumann can stay at my side. Any expenditures that bring our budget over twenty-five thousand Camorri crowns are to be made solely at my discretion.\"\n\nThe shark leaped and missed again; Cicilia performed a brief one-armed handstand on her platform, waving her axe. The audience roared while the shark rolled over gracelessly in the water and came back for another pass.\n\n\"Agreed,\" said Locke. \"Signed identical copies of our contract to be kept by each of us; one additional copy in Therin to be kept with a mutually agreeable neutral solicitor, to be opened and examined by them within the month should one of us have... an accident while fetching the casks. One additional copy in Vadran to be signed and placed into the care of an agent known tome, for eventual delivery to my masters. I shall require a bonded scribe at the Tumblehome this evening, and a promissory note for five thousand crowns, to be drawn at Meraggio's tomorrow so I can get to work immediately.\"\n\n\"And that is all that remains?\"\n\n\"Quite everything,\" said Locke." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The don was silent for several seconds." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The hell with it; I agree. Let's clasp hands and take our chances.\"\n\nOut on the water, Cicilia paused and hefted her axe, timing a blow as the shark approached her platform on her right, undulating, moving too slow fora high leap. Just as Cicilia shifted her weight to bring the spike down, the shark jackknifed in the water beside her, squeezing its body into a U shape, and drove itself straight downward. This maneuver flicked its tail into the air, catching the contrarequialla just under her knees. Screaming more in shock than in pain, Cicilia de Ricura fell backward into the water.\n\nIt was allover a few seconds after that; the shark came up biting and must have taken her by one or both legs. They turned over and over in the water a few times-Locke caught glimpses of the frantic woman's form alternating with the dark rough hide of the shark; white then gray, white then gray. In moments the pink foam was dark red once more, and the two struggling shadows were sinking into the depths beneath the platforms. Half the crowd roared lusty approval; the rest bowed their heads in a respectful silence that would last just until the next young woman entered the ring of red water.\n\n\"Gods!\" Doña Sofia stared at the spreading stain on the water; the surviving fighters stood with their heads lowered, and the priests were gesturing some sort of mutual blessing. \"Unbelievable! Taken in so fast, by such a simple trick. Well, my father used to say that one moment of misjudgment at the Revel is worth ten at any other time.\"\n\nLocke bowed deeply to her, taking one hand and kissing it. \"I doubt him not at all, Doña Sofia. Not at all.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Smiling amiably, he bowed to her once more, then turned to shake hands with her husband." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What?\" Locke nearly jumped to his feet. \"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"My boy,\" said Chains, \" my intermittently brilliant little boy, your world has such small horizons. You can see clearly enough to pull a fast one on someone, but you can't see past the immediate consequences. Until you learn to think ahead of the repercussions, you are putting yourself and everyone around you in danger. You can't help being young, but it's past time that you stopped being stupid. So listen carefully.\n\n\"Your first mistake was that taking coin from the watch isn't a beating offense. It's a killing offense. Are we clear on that? Herein Camorr, the watch takes our coin, and never the other way around. This rule is set in stone and there are no exceptions, no matter what kind of thief you are. It's death. It's a throat-slashing, shark-feeding, off-to-meet-the-gods offense, clear?\"\n\nLocke nodded.\n\n\"So when you set Veslin up, you really set him up. But you compounded this mistake when you used a white iron coin. You know how much a full crown is worth, exactly?\"\n\n\"Lots.\"\n\n\"Ha. \"Lots\" isn't\"exactly. \"You don't speak Therin, or you don't really know?\"\n\n\"I guess I don't really know.\"\n\n\"Well, if everything's butter and nobody's been shaving the damn things, that little piece of shiny white iron was worth forty silver solons. You see? Two hundred and forty coppers. Your eyes are wide. That means you can think that big, that you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes. Wow.\"\n\n\"Yes, wow. Let me put it in perspective. A yellowjacket-one of our selfless and infinitely dutiful city watchmen-might make that much for two months of daily duty. And watchmen are decently paid, for common folk, and they sure as blessed shit do not get paid in white iron.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "In your role as the author's collaborator, continue the tale.\nTags: fantasy, heist, crime\nAuthor: Scott Lynch\nTitle: The Lies of Locke Lamora\nChapter: 5" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What?\" Locke nearly jumped to his feet. \"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\"My boy,\" said Chains, \" my intermittently brilliant little boy, your world has such small horizons. You can see clearly enough to pull a fast one on someone, but you can't see past the immediate consequences. Until you learn to think ahead of the repercussions, you are putting yourself and everyone around you in danger. You can't help being young, but it's past time that you stopped being stupid. So listen carefully.\n\n\"Your first mistake was that taking coin from the watch isn't a beating offense. It's a killing offense. Are we clear on that? Herein Camorr, the watch takes our coin, and never the other way around. This rule is set in stone and there are no exceptions, no matter what kind of thief you are. It's death. It's a throat-slashing, shark-feeding, off-to-meet-the-gods offense, clear?\"\n\nLocke nodded.\n\n\"So when you set Veslin up, you really set him up. But you compounded this mistake when you used a white iron coin. You know how much a full crown is worth, exactly?\"\n\n\"Lots.\"\n\n\"Ha. \"Lots\" isn't\"exactly. \"You don't speak Therin, or you don't really know?\"\n\n\"I guess I don't really know.\"\n\n\"Well, if everything's butter and nobody's been shaving the damn things, that little piece of shiny white iron was worth forty silver solons. You see? Two hundred and forty coppers. Your eyes are wide. That means you can think that big, that you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes. Wow.\"\n\n\"Yes, wow. Let me put it in perspective. A yellowjacket-one of our selfless and infinitely dutiful city watchmen-might make that much for two months of daily duty. And watchmen are decently paid, for common folk, and they sure as blessed shit do not get paid in white iron.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Oh.\"\n\n\"So not only was Veslin taking money, he was taking too much money. A full crown! You can buy a death for much less, yours included.\"\n\n\"Um... how much did you pay for my...\" Locke tapped his chest, where the death-mark still hung beneath his shirt.\n\n\"I don't mean to prick your rather substantial opinion of yourself, but I'm still not sure if it was two coppers wisely spent.\" At the boy's expression, Chains barked out a rich, genuine laugh, but then his voice grew serious once again. \"Keep guessing, boy. But the point remains. You can get good, hard men to do serious work for less. You could buy five or six major pieces of business, if you know what I mean. So, when you stuck a white iron coin in Veslin's things-\"\n\n\"It was too much money for anything... simple?\"\n\n\"Dead on. Far too much money for information or errands. Nobody in their right mind gives a fucking graveyard urchin a full crown. Unless that urchin is being paid to do something big. Kill your old master, for example. Smoke out all of Shades' Hill and everyone in it. So if the poor Thiefmaker was upset to discover that Veslin was on the take, you can imagine how he felt when he saw how much money was involved.\"\n\nLocke nodded furiously.\n\n\"Ahhhhh, so. Two mistakes. Your third mistake was involving Gregor. Was Gregor supposed to get hit with the ugly stick?\"\n\n\"I didn't like him, but no. I just wanted Veslin. Maybe I wanted Gregor to get a little, but not as much as Veslin.\"\n\n\"Just so. You had a target, and you had a twist to play on that target, but you didn't control the situation. So your game for Veslin spilled over and Gregor Foss got the knife, too.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"That's what I said, isn't it?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I already admitted it!\"\n\n\"Angry now? My, yes, you would be... angry that you fucked up. Angry that you're not as clever as you think. Angry that the gods gave lots of other people the same sort of brain they gave Locke Lamora. Quite the pisser, isn't it?\"\n\nLocke blew his little lamp outwith one quick breath, then flung it in an arc, as high over the parapet as his slender arm could throw. The crash of its landing was lost in the murmur of the busy Camorri night. The boy crossed his arms defensively.\n\n\"Well, it certainly is nice to be free from the threat of that lamp, my boy.\" Chains drew a last breath of smoke, then rubbed his dwindling sheaf of tobacco out against the roof stones. \"Was it informing for the duke? Plotting to murder us?\"\n\nLocke said nothing, teeth clenched and lower lip protruding. Petulance, the natural nonverbal language of the very young. Chains snorted.\n\n\"I do believe everything you've told me, Locke, because I had along talk with your former master before I took you off his hands. Like I said, he told me everything. He told me about your last and biggest mistake. The one that tipped him off and got you sent here. Can you guess what it might have been?\"\n\nLocke shook his head.\n\n\"Can't, or won't?\"\n\n\"I really don't know.\" Locke looked down. \"I hadn't actually... thought about it.\"\n\n\"You showed other kids in Streets the white iron coin, didn't you? You had them help you look for it. You let some of them know what it might be used for. And you ordered them not to talk about it. But what did you, ah, back that order up with?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke's eyes widened; his pout returned, but his petulance evaporated. \"They... they hated Veslin, too. They wanted to see him get it.\"\n\n\"Of course. Maybe that was enough for one day. But what about later? After Veslin was dead, and Gregor was dead, and your master'd had a chance to cool down some, and reflect on the situation? What if he started asking questions about a certain Lamora boy? What if he took some of your little boon companions from Streets and asked them nicely if Locke Lamora had been up to anything... unusual? Even for him?\"\n\n\"Oh.\" The boy winced. \"Oh!\"\n\n\"Oh-ho-ho!\" Chains reached out and slapped the boy on the shoulder. \"Enlightenment! When it comes, it comes like a brick to the head, doesn't it?\"\n\n\"I guess.\"\n\n\"So,\" said Chains, \"now you see where everything went wrong. How many boys and girls are in that little hill, Locke? A hundred? Hundred and twenty? More? How many do you really think your old master could handle, if they turned on him? One or two, no problem. But four? Eight? All of them?\"\n\n\"We, um... I guess we never... thought about it.\"\n\n\"Because he doesn't rule his graveyard by logic, boy; he rules it by fear. Fear of him keeps the older sprats inline. Fear of them keeps little shits like you inline. Anything that undermines that fear is a threat to his position. Enter Locke Lamora waving the idiot flag and thinking himself so much cleverer than the rest of the world!\"\n\n\"I really... I don't... think I'm cleverer than the rest of the world.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You did until three minutes ago. Listen, I'm a garrista. It means I run a gang, even if it's just a small one. Your old master is a garrista, too; the garrista of Shades'Hill. And when you mess with a leader's ability to rule his gang, outcome the knives. How long do you think the Thiefmaker could control Shades'Hill if word got around of how you played him so sweetly? How you jerked him around like a kitten on a chain? He would never have real control over his orphans ever again; they'd push and push until it finally came to blood.\"\n\n\"And that's why he got rid of me? But what about Streets? What about the ones that helped me get Veslin?\"\n\n\"Good questions. Easily answered. Your old master takes orphans in off the streets and keeps them fora few years; usually he's through with them by the time they're twelve or thirteen. He teaches them the basics: how to sneak-thief and speak the cant and mix with the Right People, how to get along in a gang and how to dodge the noose. When he's through with them, he sells them to the bigger gangs, the real gangs. You see? He takes orders. Maybe the Gray Faces need a second-story girl. Maybe the Arsenal Boys want a mean little bruiser. It's a great advantage to the gangs; it brings them suitable new recruits that don't need to have their hands held.\"\n\n\"That I know. That's why... he sold me to you.\"\n\n\"Yes. Because you're a very special case. You have profitable skills, even if your aim so far has been terrible. But your little friends in Streets? Did they have your gifts? They were just regular little coat-charmers, simple little teasers. They weren't ripe. Nobody would give a penny for them, except slavers, and your old master has one sad old scrap of real conscience. He wouldn't sell one of you to the crimpers for all the coin in Camorr.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So... what you're saying is, he had to do something to all of us that knew about the coin. All of us that could... figure it out or tell about it. And I was the only one he could sell.\"\n\n\"Correct. And as for the others, well...\" Chains shrugged. \"It'll be quick. Two, three weeks from now, nobody'll even remember their names. You know how it goes in the hill.\"\n\n\"I got them killed?\"\n\n\"Yes.\" Chains didn't soften his voice. \"You really did. As surely as you tried to hurt Veslin, you killed Gregor and four or five of your little comrades into the bargain.\"\n\n\"Shit.\"\n\n\"Do you see now, what consequences really are? Why you have to move slowly, think ahead, control the situation? Why you need to settle down and wait for time to give you sense to match your talent for mischief? We have years to work together, Locke. Years for you and my other little hellions to practice quietly. And that has to be the rule, if you want to stay here. No games, no cons, no scams, no anything except when and where I tell you. When someone like you pushes the world, the world pushes back. Other people are likely to get hurt. Am I clear?\"\n\nLocke nodded.\n\n\"Now.\" Chains snapped his shoulders back and rolled his head from side to side; there was a series of snaps and cracks from somewhere inside him. \"Ahhh. Do you know what a death-offering is?\"\n\n\"No.\"\n\n\"It's something we do, for the Benefactor. Not just those of us who are initiates of the Thirteenth. Something all of us crooks do for one another, all the Right People of Camorr. When we lose someone we care about, we get something valuable and we throw it away. For real, you understand. Into the sea, into afire, something like that. We do this to help our friends on their way to what comes next. Clear so far?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yeah, but my old master...\"\n\n\"Oh, he does it, trust me. He's a wretched miser and he always does it in private, but he does it for each and everyone of you he loses. Figures he wouldn't tell you about it. But here's the thing-there's a rule that has to be followed with the offering. It can't be given willingly, you understand? It can't be something you already have. It has to be something you go out and steal from someone else, special, without their permission or their, ah, complicity. Get me? It has to be genuine theft.\"\n\n\"Uh, sure.\"\n\nFather Chains cracked his knuckles. \"You're going to make a death-offering for every single boy or girl you got killed, Locke. One for Veslin, one for Gregor. One for each of your little friends in Streets. I'm sure I'll know the count in just a day or two.\"\n\n\"But I... they weren't...\"\n\n\"Of course they were your friends, Locke. They were your very good friends. Because they're going to teach you that when you kill someone, there are consequences. It is one thing to kill in a duel, to kill in self-defense, to kill for vengeance. It is another thing entirely to kill simply because you are careless. Those deaths are going to hangover your head until you're so careful you make the saints of Perelandro weep. Your death-offering will be a thousand full crowns per head. All of it properly stolen by your own hand.\"\n\n\"But I... what? A thousand crowns? Each? A thousand?\"\n\n\"You can take that death-mark off your neck when you offer up the last coin of it, and not a moment sooner.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But that's impossible! It'll take... forever!\"\n\n\"It'll take years. But we're thieves, not murderers, herein my temple. And the price of your life with me is that you must show respect for the dead. Those boys and girls are your victims, Locke. Get that through your head. This is something you owe them, before the gods. Something you must swear to by blood before you can stay. Are you willing to do so?\"\n\nLocke seemed to think fora few seconds. Then he shook his head as though to clear it, and nodded.\n\n\"Then holdout your left hand.\"\n\nAs Locke did so, Chains produced a slender blackened-steel stiletto from within his robe and drew it across his own left palm; then, holding Locke's outstretched hand firmly, he scratched a shallow, stinging cut between the boy's thumb and index finger. They shook hands firmly, until their palms were thick with mingled blood.\n\n\"Then you're a Gentleman Bastard, like the rest of us. I'm your garrista and you're my pezon, my little soldier. I have your oath in blood to do what I've told you to do? To make the offerings for the souls of the people you've wronged?\"\n\n\"I'll do it,\" Locke said.\n\n\"Good. That means you can stay for dinner. Let's get down off this roof.\"\n\nBEHIND THE curtained door at the rear of the sanctuary there was a grimy hall leading to several grimy rooms; moisture and mold and poverty were on abundant display. There were cells with sleeping pallets, lit by oiled-paper lamps that gave off alight the color of cheap ale. Scrolls and bound books were scattered on the pallets; robes in questionable states of cleanliness hung from wall hooks." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"This is a necessary nonsense.\" Chains gestured to and fro as he led Locke into the room closest to the curtained door, as though showing off a palace. \"Occasionally, we play host to a tutor or a traveling priest of Perelandro's order, and they have to see what they expect.\"\n\nChains' own sleeping pallet (for Locke saw that the wall-manacles in the other room could surely reach none of the other sleeping chambers back here) was set atop a block of solid stone, a sort of heavy shelf jutting from the wall. Chains reached under the stale blankets, turned something that made a metallic clacking noise, and lifted his bed up as though it were a coffin lid; the blankets turned out to be on some sort of wooden panel with hinges set into the stone. An inviting golden light spilled from within the stone block, along with the spicy smells of high-class Camorri cooking. Locke knew that aroma only from the way it drifted out of the Alcegrante district or down from certain inns and houses.\n\n\"In you go!\" Chains gestured once again, and Locke peeked over the lip of the stone block. A sturdy wooden ladder led down a square shaft just slightly wider than Chains'shoulders; it ended about twenty feet below, on a polished wood floor. \"Don't gawk, climb!\"\n\nLocke obeyed. The rungs of the ladder were wide and rough and very narrowly spaced; he had no trouble moving down it, and when he stepped off he was in a tall passage that might have been torn out of the duke's own tower. The floor was indeed polished wood, long straight golden-brown boards that creaked pleasantly beneath his feet. The arched ceiling and the walls were entirely covered with a thick milky golden glass that shone faintly, like a rainy-season sun peeking out from behind heavy clouds. The illumination came from everywhere and nowhere; the wall scintillated. With a series of thumps and grunts and jingles (for Locke saw that he now carried the day's donated coins in a small burlap sack) Chains came down and hopped to the floor beside him. He gave a quick tug to a rope tied to the ladder, and the false bed-pallet fell back down and locked itself above." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"There." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Isn't this much nicer?\"\n\n\"Yeah.\" Locke ran one hand down the flawless surface of one of the walls. The glass was noticeably cooler than the air. \"It's Elderglass, isn't it?\"\n\n\"Sure as hell isn't plaster.\" Chains shooed Locke along the passage to the left, where it turned a corner. \"The whole temple cellar is surrounded by the stuff. Sealed in it. The temple above was actually built to settle into it, hundreds of years ago. There's not a break in it, as far as I can tell, except for one or two little tunnels that lead out to other interesting places. It's flood-tight, and never lets in a drop from below even when the water's waist-deep in the streets. And it keeps out rats and roaches and suckle-spiders and all that crap, so long as we mind our comings and goings.\"\n\nThe clatter of metal pans and the low giggle of the Sanza brothers reached them from around the corner just before they turned it, entering into a comfortably appointed kitchen with tall wooden cabinets and along witchwood table, surrounded by high-backed chairs. Locke actually rubbed his eyes when he saw their black velvet cushions, and the varnished gold leaf that gilded their every surface.\n\nCalo and Galdo were working at a brick cooking shelf, shuffling pans and banging knives over a huge white alchemical hearthslab. Locke had seen smaller blocks of this stone, which gave off a smokeless heat when water was splashed atop it, but this one must have weighed as much as Father Chains. As Locke watched, Calo (Galdo?) held a pan in the air and poured water from a glass pitcher onto the sizzling slab; the great uprush of steam carried a deep bouquet of sweet cooking smells, and Locke felt saliva spilling down the back of his mouth." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the air over the witchwood table, a striking chandelier blazed; Locke would, in later years, come to recognize it as an armillary sphere, fashioned from glass with an axis of solid gold. At its heart shone an alchemical globe with the white-bronze light of the sun; surrounding this were the concentric glass rings that marked the orbits and processions of the world and all her celestial cousins, including the three moons; at the outermost edges were a hundred dangling stars that looked like spatters of molten glass somehow frozen at the very instant of their outward explosions. The light ran and glimmered and burned along every facet of the chandelier, yet there was something wrong about it. It was as if the Elderglass ceilings and walls were somehow drawing the light out of the alchemical sun; leavening it, weakening it, redistributing it along the full length and breadth of all the Elderglass in this uncanny cellar.\n\n\"Welcome to our real home, our little temple to the Benefactor.\" Chains tossed his bag of coins down on the table. \"Our patron has always sort of danced upon the notion that austerity and piety go hand in hand; down here, we show our appreciation for things by appreciating, if you get me. Boys! Look who survived his interview!\"\n\n\"We never doubted,\" said one twin.\n\n\"For even a second,\" said the other.\n\n\"But now can we hear what he did to get himself kicked out of Shades' Hill?\" The question, spoken in near-perfect unison, had the ring of repeated ritual.\n\n\"When you're older.\" Chains raised his eyebrows at Locke and shook his head, ensuring the boy could seethe gesture clearly. \"Much older. Locke, I don't expect that you know how to set a table?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When Locke shook his head, Chains led him over to a tall cabinet just to the left of the cooking hearth. Inside were stacks of white porcelain plates; Chains held one up so Locke could seethe hand-painted heraldic design (a mailed fist clutching an arrow and a grapevine) and the bright gold gilding on the rim.\n\n\"Borrowed,\" said Chains, \"on a rather permanent basis from Doña Isabella Manechezzo, the old dowager aunt of our own Duke Nicovante. She died childless and rarely gave parties, so it wasn't as though she was using them all. You see how some of our acts that might seem purely cruel and larcenous to outsiders are actually sort of convenient, if you look at them in the right way? That's the hand of the Benefactor at work, or so we like to think. It's not as though we could tell the difference if he didn't want us to.\"\n\nChains handed the plate to Locke (who clutched at it with greatly exaggerated care and peered very closely at the gold rim) and ran his right hand lovingly over the surface of the witchwood table. \" Now this, this used to be the property of Marius Cordo, a master merchant of Tal Verrar. He had it in the great cabin of a triple-decker galley. Huge! Eighty-six oars. I was a bit upset with him, so I lifted it, his chairs, his carpets and tapestries, and all of his clothes. Right off the ship. I left his money; I was making a point. I dumped everything but the table into the Sea of Brass.\n\n\"And that!\" Chains lifted a finger in the direction of the celestial chandelier. \"That was being shipped overland from Ashmere in a guarded wagon convoy for the old Don Leviana. Somehow, in transit, it transformed itself into a box of straw.\" Chains took three more plates out of the cabinet and set them in Locke's arms. \"Damn, I was fairly good back when I actually worked fora living.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Urk,\" said Locke, under the weight of the fine dinnerware.\n\n\"Oh, yeah.\" Chains gestured to the chair at the head of the table. \"Put one therefor me. One for yourself on my left. Two for Calo and Galdo on my right. If you were my servant, what I'd tell you to layout is a casual setting. Can you say that for me?\"\n\n\"A casual setting.\"\n\n\"Right. This is how the high and mighty eat when it's just close blood and maybe a friend or two.\" Chains let the set of his eyes and the tone of his voice suggest that he expected this lesson to be retained, and he began to introduce Locke to the intricacies of glasses, linen napkins, and silver eating utensils.\n\n\"What kind of knife is this?\" Locke held a rounded buttering utensil up for Chains'inspection. \"It's all wrong. You couldn't kill anyone with this.\"\n\n\"Well, not very easily, I'll grant you that, my boy.\" Chains guided Locke in the placement of the butter knife and assorted small dishes and bowls. \"But when the quality get together to dine, it's impolite to knock anybody off with anything but poison. That thing is for scooping butter, not slicing windpipes.\"\n\n\"This is a lot of trouble to go to just to eat.\"\n\n\"Well, in Shades'Hill you maybe able to eat cold bacon and dirt pies off one another's asses for all your old master cares. But now you're a Gentleman Bastard, emphasis on the Gentleman. You're going to learn how to eat like this, and how to serve people who eat like this.\"\n\n\"Why?\"\n\n\"Because, Locke Lamora, someday you're going to dine with barons and counts and dukes. You're going to dine with merchants and admirals and generals and ladies of every sort! And when you do...\" Chains put two fingers under Locke's chin and tilted the boy's head up so they were eye to eye. \"When you do, those poor idiots won't have any idea that they're really dining with a thief.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"NOW, ISN'T this lovely?\"\n\nChains raised an empty glass and saluted his three young wards at the splendidly furnished table; steaming brass bowls and heavy crockware held the results of Calo and Galdo's efforts at the cooking hearth. Locke, seated on an extra cushion to raise his elbows just above the tabletop, stared at the food and the furnishings with wide eyes. He was bewildered at how quickly he had escaped his old life and fallen into this new one with strangely pleasant crazy people.\n\nChains lifted a bottle of something he'd called alchemical wine; the stuff was viscous and dark, like quicksilver. When he pulled the loosened cork, the air was filled with the scent of juniper; fora brief moment it overwhelmed the spicy aroma of the main dishes. Chains poured a good measure of the stuff into the empty glass, and in the bright light it ran like molten silver. Chains raised the glass to a level with his eyes.\n\n\"A glass poured to air for the one who sits with us unseen; the patron and protector, the Crooked Warden, the Father of Necessary Pretexts.\"\n\n\"Thanks for deep pockets poorly guarded,\" said the Sanza brothers in unison, and Locke was caught off guard by the seriousness of their intonation.\n\n\"Thanks for watchmen asleep at their posts,\" said Chains.\n\n\"Thanks for the city to nurture us and the night to hide us,\" was the response.\n\n\"Thanks for friends to help spend the loot!\" Chains brought the half-filled glass down and set it in the middle of the table. He took up another, smaller glass; into this he poured just a finger of the liquid silver. \"A glass poured to air for an absent friend. We wish Sabetha well and pray for her safe return.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Maybe we could have her back a little less crazy, though,\" said one of the Sanzas, whom Locke mentally labeled Calo for convenience.\n\n\"And humble.\" Galdo nodded after he'd said this. \"Humble would be really great.\"\n\n\"The brothers Sanza wish Sabetha well.\" Chains held the little glass of liquor rock-steady and eyed the twins. \"And they pray for her safe return.\"\n\n\"Yes! Wish her well!\"\n\n\"Safe return, that would be really great.\"\n\n\"Who's Sabetha?\" Locke spoke quietly, directing his inquiry to Chains.\n\n\"An ornament to our little gang. Our only young woman, currently away on... educational business.\" Chains set her glass down beside the one poured to the Benefactor, and plucked up Locke's glass in exchange. \"Another special deal from your old master. Gifted, my boy, gifted like you are with a preternatural talent for the vexation of others.\"\n\n\"That's us he's talking about,\" said Calo.\n\n\"Pretty soon it'll mean you, too.\" Galdo smiled.\n\n\"Pipe down, twitlings.\" Chains poured a splash of the quicksilver wine into Locke's glass and handed it back to him. \"One more toast and prayer. To Locke Lamora, our new brother. My new pezon. We wish him well. We welcome him warmly. And for him, we pray, wisdom.\"\n\nWith graceful motions, he poured wine for Calo and Galdo, and then a nearly full glass for himself. Chains and the Sanzas raised their glasses; Locke quickly copied them. Silver sparkled under gold.\n\n\"Welcome to the Gentlemen Bastards!\" Chains tapped his glass gently against Locke's, producing a ringing sound that hung in the air before fading sweetly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You should've picked death!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "said Galdo.\n\n\"He did offer you death as a choice, right?\" Calo spoke as he and his brother tapped their own glasses together, then reached across the table in unison to touch Locke's.\n\n\"Laugh it up, boys.\" Soon all the knocking about with glasses was finished and Chains led the way with a quick sip of his wine. \"Ahhh. Mark my words, if this poor little creature lives a year, you two will be his dancing monkeys. He'll throw you grapes whenever he wants to see a trick. Go ahead and have a drink, Locke.\"\n\nLocke raised the glass; the silvery surface showed him a vivid but wobbly reflection of his own face and the brightly lit room around him; the wine's bouquet was a haze of juniper and anise that tickled his nose. He put the tiny image of himself to his lips and drank. The slightly cool liquor seemed to go two ways at once as he swallowed. Aline of tickling warmth ran straight down his throat while icy tendrils reached upward, sliding across the roof of his mouth and into his sinuses. His eyes bulged; he coughed and ran a handover his suddenly numb lips.\n\n\"It's mirror wine, from Tal Verrar. Good stuff. Now go ahead and eat something or it'll pop your skull open.\"\n\nCalo and Galdo whisked damp cloths off serving platters and bowls, revealing the full extent of the meal for the first time. There were indeed sausages, neatly sliced and fried in oil with quartered pears. There were also split red peppers stuffed with almond paste and spinach; dumplings of thin bread folded over chicken, fried until the bread was as translucent as paper; and cold black beans in wine and mustard sauce. The Sanza brothers were suddenly scooping portions of this and that onto Locke's plate too fast for him to track." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Working awkwardly with a two-pronged silver fork and one of the rounded knives he'd previously scorned, Locke began to shovel things into his mouth; the flavors seemed to burst gloriously, haphazardly. The chicken dumplings were spiced with ginger and ground orange peels. The wine sauce in the bean salad warmed his tongue; the sharp fumes of mustard burned his throat. He found himself gulping wine to putout each new fire as it arose.\n\nTo his surprise, the Sanza twins didn't partake once they'd served him; they sat with their hands folded, watching Chains. When the older man seemed assured that Locke was eating, he turned to Calo.\n\n\"You're a Vadran noble. Let's say you're a Liege-Graf from one of the less important Marrows. You're at a dinner party in Tal Verrar; an equal number of men and women, with assigned seating. The party is just entering the dining hall; your assigned lady is beside you as you enter, conversing with you. What do you do?\"\n\n\"At a Vadran dinner party, I would hold her chair out for her without invitation.\" Calo didn't smile. \"But Verrari ladies will stand beside a chair to show they want it pulled out. It's impolite to presume. So I'd let her make the first move.\"\n\n\"Very good. Now.\" Chains pointed to the second Sanza with one hand as he began adding food to his plate with the other. \"What's seventeen multiplied by nineteen?\"\n\nGaldo closed his eyes in concentration fora few seconds. \"Um... three hundred and twenty three.\"\n\n\"Correct. What's the difference between a Vadran nautical league and a Therin nautical league?\"\n\n\"Ah... the Vadran league is a hundred and... fifty yards longer.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Very good. That's that, then. Go ahead and eat.\"\n\nAs the Sanza brothers began to undecorously struggle for possession of certain serving dishes, Chains turned to Locke, whose plate was already half-empty. \"After you've been here a few days, I'm going to start asking questions about what you've learned, too. If you want to eat you'll be expected to learn.\"\n\n\"What am I going to learn? Other than setting tables?\"\n\n\"Everything!\" Chains looked very pleased with himself. \"Everything, my boy. How to fight, how to steal, how to lie with a straight face. How to cook meals like this! How to disguise yourself. How to speak like a noble, how to scribe like a priest, how to skulk like a half-wit.\"\n\n\"Calo already knows that one,\" said Galdo.\n\n\"Agh moo agh na mugh baaa,\" said Calo around a mouthful of food.\n\n\"Remember what I said, when I told you we didn't work like other thieves work? We're anew sort of thief here, Locke. What we are is actors. False-facers. I sit here and pretend to be a priest of Perelandro; for years now people have been throwing money at me. How do you think I paid to furnish this little fairy-burrow, this food? I'm three and fifty; nobody my age can steal around rooftops and charm locks. I'm better paid for being blind than I ever was for being quick and clever. And now I'm too slow and too round to pass for anything really interesting.\"\n\nChains finished off the contents of his glass and poured another.\n\n\"But you. You, and Calo and Galdo and Sabetha... you four will have every advantage I didn't. Your education will be thorough and vigorous. I'll refine my notions, my techniques. When I'm finished, the things you four will pull... well, they'll make my little scam with this temple look simple and unambitious.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That sounds nice,\" said Locke, who was feeling the wine. A warm haze of charitable contentment was descending over him and smothering the tension and worry that were so second-nature to a Shades' Hill orphan. \"What do we do first?\"\n\n\"Well, tonight, if you're not busy throwing up the first decent meal you've ever had, Calo and Galdo will draw you a bath. Once you're less aromatic company, you can sleep in. Tomorrow, we'll get you an acolyte's robe and you can sit the steps with us, taking coins. Tomorrow night...\" Chains scratched at his beard while he took a sip from his glass. \"I take you to meet the big man. Capa Barsavi. He's ever so curious to get a look at you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "FOR THE SECOND time in two days, Don Lorenzo Salvara found his life interrupted by masked and hooded strangers in an unexpected place. This time, it was just after midnight, and they were waiting for him in his study.\n\n\"Close the door,\" said the shorter intruder. His voice was all Camorr, rough and smoky and clearly accustomed to being obeyed. \"Have a seat, m'lord, and don't bother calling for your man. He is... indisposed.\"\n\n\"Who the hell are you?\" Salvara's sword hand curled reflexively; his belt held no scabbard. He slid the door closed behind him but made no move to sit at his writing desk. \"How did you get inhere?\"\n\nThe intruder who'd first spoken reached up and pulled down the black cloth that covered his nose and mouth. His face was lean and angular; his hair black, his dark moustache thin and immaculately trimmed. A white scar arced across the man's right cheekbone. He reached into the folds of his well-cut black cloak and pulled out a black leather wallet, which he flipped open so the don could see its contents-a small crest of gold set inside an intricate design of frosted glass.\n\n\"Gods.\" Don Salvara fell into his chair, nervously, without further hesitation. \"You're Midnighters.\"\n\n\"Just so.\" The man folded his wallet and put it back in his cloak. The silent intruder, still masked and hooded, moved casually around to stand just a few feet behind Don Lorenzo, between him and the door. \"We apologize for the intrusion. But our business here is extremely sensitive.\"\n\n\"Have I... have I somehow offended His Grace?\"\n\n\"Not to my knowledge, m'lord Salvara. In fact, you might say we're hereto help prevent you from doing so.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I... I, ah... well. Ah, what did you say you did to Conté?\"\n\n\"Just gave him a little something to help him sleep. We know he's loyal and we know he's dangerous. We didn't want any... misunderstandings.\"\n\nThe man standing at the door punctuated this statement by stepping forward, reaching around Don Salvara, and gently setting Conté's matching fighting knives down on the desktop.\n\n\"I see. I trust that he'll be well.\" Don Salvara drummed his fingers on his writing desk and stared at the scarred intruder. \"I should be very displeased otherwise.\"\n\n\"He is completely unharmed; I give you my word as the duke's man.\"\n\n\"I shall hold that sufficient. For the time being.\"\n\nThe scarred man sighed and rubbed his eyes with two gloved fingers. \"There's no need for us to begin like this, m'lord. I apologize for the abruptness of our appearance and the manner of our intrusion, but I believe you'll find that your welfare is paramount in our master's eyes. I'm instructed to ask-did you enjoy yourself at the Revel today?\"\n\n\"Yes...\" Don Salvara spoke carefully, as though to a solicitor or a court recorder. \"I suppose that would bean accurate assessment.\"\n\n\"Good, good. You had company, didn't you?\"\n\n\"The Doña Sofia was with me.\"\n\n\"I refer to someone else. Not one of His Grace's subjects. Not Camorri.\"\n\n\"Ah. The merchant. A merchant named Lukas Ferhwight, from Emberlain.\"\n\n\"From Emberlain. Of course.\" The scarred man folded his arms and looked around the don's study. He stared fora moment at a pair of small glass portraits of the old Don and Doña Salvara, set in a frame decked with black velvet funeral ribbons. \"Well. That man is no more a merchant of Emberlain than you or I, m'lord Salvara. He's a fraud. A sham.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I...\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Don Salvara nearly jumped to his feet, but remembered the man standing behind him and seemed to think better of it. \"I don't see how that could be possible. He...\"\n\n\"Beg pardon, m'lord.\" The scarred man smiled, gruesomely and artificially, as a man without children might smile when trying to comfort an upset babe. \"But let me ask you-have you ever heard of the man they call the Thorn of Camorr?\"\n\n\"I ONLY steal because my dear old family needs the money to live!\"\n\nLocke Lamora made this proclamation with his wineglass held high; he and the other Gentlemen Bastards were seated at the old witchwood table in the opulent burrow beneath the House of Perelandro; Calo and Galdo on his right, Jean and Bug on his left. A huge spread of food was set before them, and the celestial chandelier swung overhead with its familiar golden light. The others began to jeer.\n\n\"Liar!\" they chorused in unison.\n\n\"I only steal because this wicked world won't let me work an honest trade!\" Calo cried, hoisting his own glass.\n\n\"Liar!\"\n\n\"I only steal because I have to support my poor lazy twin brother, whose indolence broke our mother's heart!\" Galdo elbowed Calo as he made this announcement.\n\n\"Liar!\"\n\n\"I only steal,\" said Jean, \"because I've temporarily fallen in with bad company.\"\n\n\"Liar!\"\n\nAt last the ritual came to Bug; the boy raised his glass a bit shakily and yelled, \"I only steal because it's heaps of fucking fun!\"\n\n\"BASTARD!\"\n\nWith a general clamor of whooping and hollering the five thieves banged glasses together; light glittered on crystal and shone through the misty green depths of Verrari mint wine. The four men drained their glasses in one go and slammed them back down on the tabletop. Bug, already a bit cross-eyed, handled his somewhat more delicately." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Gentlemen, I hold in my hands the first fruits of all our long weeks of study and suffering.\" Locke held up a rolled parchment embossed with ribbons and a blue wax seal-the color of the lesser nobility of Camorr. \"A letter of credit for five thousand full crowns, to be drawn tomorrow against Don Salvara's funds at Meraggio's. And, I daresay, the first score our youngest member has ever helped us to bring in.\"\n\n\"Barrel boy!\" the Sanza brothers hollered in unison; a moment later a small almond-crusted bread roll arced from between their seats, hit Bug right between the eyes, and plopped down onto his empty plate. Bug tore it in half and responded in kind, aiming well despite his wobbliness. Locke continued speaking as Calo scowled and rubbed crumbs out of his eyes.\n\n\"Second touch this afternoon was easy. But we wouldn't have gotten so far, so fast, if not for Bug's quick action yesterday. What a stupid, reckless, idiotic, ridiculous damn thing to do! I haven't the words to express my admiration.\" Locke had managed to work a bit of wine-bottle legerdemain while speaking; the empty glasses were suddenly full. \"To Bug! The new bane of the Camorr city watch!\"\n\nWhen the cheering and the guzzling from this toast had subsided and Bug had been smacked upon the back often enough to turn the contents of his skull sideways, Locke produced a single large glass, set it in the middle of the table, and filled it slowly.\n\n\"Just one thing more before we can eat.\" He held the glass up as the others fell silent. \"A glass poured to air for an absent friend. We miss old Chains terribly and we wish his soul peace. May the Crooked Warden ever stand watch and bless his crooked servant. He was a good and penitent man, in the manner of our kind.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gently, Locke set the glass in the center of the table and covered it with a small black cloth. \"He would have been very proud of you, Bug.\"\n\n\"I do hope so.\" The boy stared at the covered glass in the middle of the opulent glassware and gilded cookery. \"I wish I could have met him.\"\n\n\"You would have been a restful project for his old age.\" Jean kissed the back of his own left hand, the benedictory gesture of the Nameless Thirteenth's priesthood. \"Avery welcome respite from what he endured raising the four of us!\"\n\n\"Jean's being generous. He and I were saints. It's the Sanza brothers that kept the poor old bastard up late praying six nights out of seven.\" Locke reached out toward one cloth-covered platter. \"Let's eat.\"\n\n\"Praying that you and Jean would grow up quick and handsome like the two of us, you mean!\" Galdo's hand darted out and caught Locke's at the wrist. \"Aren't you forgetting something?\"\n\n\"Am I?\"\n\nCalo, Galdo, and Jean met this question with a coordinated stare. Bug looked sheepish and gazed up at the chandelier.\n\n\"Gods damn it.\" Locke slid out of his gold-gilded chair and went to aside cupboard; when he returned to the table he had a tiny sampling-glass in his hand, little more than a thimble for liquor. Into this he let slip the smallest dash of mint wine. He didn't hold this glass up, but pushed it into the center of the table beside the glass under the black cloth.\n\n\"A glass poured in air for an absent someone. I don't know where she is at the moment, and I pray you all choke, save Bug, thanks very fucking much.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hardly a graceful blessing, especially fora priest.\" Calo kissed the back of his own left hand and waved it over the tiny glass. \"She was one of us even before you were, garrista.\"\n\n\"You know what I do pray?\" Locke set his hands on the edge of the table; his knuckles rapidly turned white. \"That maybe someday one of you finds out what love is when it travels farther up than the buttons of your trousers.\"\n\n\"It takes two to break a heart.\" Galdo gently placed his left handover Locke's right. \"I don't recall her fucking things up without your able assistance.\"\n\n\"And I daresay,\" said Calo, \"that it would be a tremendous relief to us all if you would just have the courtesy to go out and get yourself wenched. Long and hard. Gods, do three at once! It's not as though we don't have the funds.\"\n\n\"I'll have you know my patience for this topic was exhausted long before-\" Locke's voice was rising to a shout when Jean grabbed him firmly by his left biceps; Jean's fist wrapped easily all the way around Locke's arm.\n\n\"She was our good friend, Locke. Was and still is. You owe her something a bit more godly than that.\"\n\nJean reached out for the wine bottle, then filled the little glass to its brim. He raised it into the light and took his other hand off Locke's arm. \"A glass poured to air for an absent friend. We wish Sabetha well. For ourselves, we pray brotherhood.\"\n\nLocke stared at him fora second that seemed like minutes, then let out along sigh. \"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin the occasion. That was a poor toast and I... repent it. I should have thought better of my responsibilities.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm sorry, too.\" Galdo grinned sheepishly. \"We don't blame you for the way you feel. We know she was... she was... her.\"\n\n\"Well, I'm not sorry about the wenching bit.\" Calo shrugged in mock apology. \"I'm fucking serious, man. Dip your wick. Drop your anchor. Go see a lady about a sheath fora dagger. You'll feel better.\"\n\n\"Isn't it obvious that I'm just ecstatic right now? I don't need to feel better, because you and I still have work to do this evening! For the love of the Crooked Warden, can we please just kill this subject and throw its gods-damned corpse in the bay?\"\n\n\"Sorry,\" Calo said after a few seconds and a well-aimed glare from Jean. \"Sorry. Look, you know we mean well. We're both sorry if we push. But she's in Parlay and we're in Camorr, and it's obvious you-\"\n\nCalo would have said something else, but an almond roll bounced off the bridge of his nose and he flinched in surprise. Another roll hit Galdo in the forehead; one arced into Jean's lap, and Locke managed to throw up a hand in time to swat down the one intended for him.\n\n\"Honestly!\" Bug clutched still more rolls in his outstretched hands, and he pointed them like loaded crossbows. \"Is this what I get to look forward to when I grow up? I thought we were celebrating being richer and cleverer than everyone else!\"\n\nLocke looked at the boy for just a moment, then reached out and took the full sampling-glass from Jean, a smile breaking out as he did so. \"Bug's right. Let's cut the shit and have dinner.\" He raised the glass as high as he could toward the light of the chandelier. \"To us-richer and cleverer than everyone else!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Richer and cleverer than everyone else!\" came the echoing chorus.\n\n\"We toast absent friends who helped to bring us to where we are now. We do miss them.\" Locke set the little glass to his lips and took a minuscule sip before he set it back down.\n\n\"And we love them still,\" he added quietly.\n\n\"THE THORN of Camorr... is a particularly ridiculous rumor that floats around the dining parlor when some of the more excitable dons don't water their wine quite thoroughly enough.\"\n\n\"The Thorn of Camorr,\" said the scarred man pleasantly, \"walked off your pleasure barge earlier this evening with a signed note for five thousand of your white iron crowns.\"\n\n\"Who? Lukas Fehrwight?\"\n\n\"None other.\"\n\n\"Lukas Fehrwight is a Vadran. My mother was Vadran; I know the tongue! Lukas is Old Emberlain all the way through. He covers himself in wool and flinches back six feet anytime a woman blinks at him!\" Don Lorenzo pulled his optics off in irritation and set them on his desk. \"The man would bet the lives of his own children against the price he could get for barrels of herring guts on any given morning. I've dealt with his kind too many times to count. That man is no Camorri, and he is no mythical thief!\"\n\n\"My lord. You are four and twenty, yes?\"\n\n\"For the time being. Is that quite relevant?\"\n\n\"You have no doubt known many merchants in the years since your mother and father passed away, may they have the peace of the Long Silence. Many merchants, and many of them Vadrans, correct?\"\n\n\"Quite correct.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"And if a man, a very clever man, wished you to think him a merchant..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Well, what would he dress up and present himself as? A fisherman? A mercenary archer?\"\n\n\"I don't grasp your meaning.\"\n\n\"I mean, m'lord Salvara, that your own expectations have been used against you. You have a keen sense for men of business, surely. You've grown your family fortune several times over in your brief time handling it. Therefore, a man who wished to snare you in some scheme could do nothing wiser than to act the consummate man of business. To deliberately manifest all of your expectations. To show you exactly what you expected and desired to see.\"\n\n\"It seems tome that if I accept your argument,\" the don said slowly, \"then the self-evident truth of any legitimate thing could betaken as grounds for its falseness. I say Lukas Fehrwight is a merchant of Emberlain because he shows the signs of being so; you say those same signs are what prove him counterfeit. I need more sensible evidence than this.\"\n\n\"Let me digress, then, m'lord, and ask another question.\" The scarred man drew his hands within the black folds of his cloak and stared down at the young nobleman. \"If you were a thief who preyed exclusively on the nobility of our Serene Duchy of Camorr, how would you hide your actions?\"\n\n\"Exclusively? Your Thorn of Camorr again. There can't be any such thief. There are arrangements... the Secret Peace. Other thieves would take care of the matter as soon as any man dared breach the Peace.\"\n\n\"And if our thief could evade capture? If our thief could conceal his identity from his fellows?\"\n\n\"If. If. They say the Thorn of Camorr steals from the rich\"-Don Salvara placed a hand on his own chest-\"and gives every last copper to the poor. But have you heard of any bags of gold being dumped in the street in Catchfire lately? Any charcoal-burners or knackers suddenly walking around in silk waistcoats and embroidered boots? Please. The Thorn is a commoner's ale-tale. Master swordsman, romancer of ladies, a ghost who walks through walls. Ridiculous.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Your doors are locked and all your windows are barred, yet here we are in your study, m'lord.\"\n\n\"Granted. But you're men of flesh and blood.\"\n\n\"So it's said. We're getting off the subject. Our thief, m'lord, would trust you and your peers to keep his activities concealed for him. Hypothetically speaking, if Lukas Fehrwight were the Thorn of Camorr, and you knew that he had strolled off with a small fortune from your coffers, what would you do? Would you rouse the watch? Cry for aid openly in the court of His Grace? Speak of the matter in front of Don Paleri Jacobo?\"\n\n\"I... I... that's an interesting point. I wonder-\"\n\n\"Would you want the entire city to know that you'd been taken in? That you'd been tricked? Would men of business ever trust your judgment again? Would your reputation ever truly recover?\"\n\n\"I suppose it would be a very... difficult thing.\"\n\nThe scarred man's right hand reappeared, gloveless and pale against the darkness of the cloak, one finger pointing outward. \"Her ladyship the Doña Rosalina de Marre lost ten thousand crowns four years ago, in exchange for titles to upriver orchards that don't exist.\" A second finger curled outward. \"Don and Doña Feluccia lost twice as much two years ago. They thought they were financing a coup in Talisham that would have made the city a family estate.\"\n\n\"Last year,\" the scarred man said as a third finger unfolded, \"Don Javarriz paid fifteen thousand full crowns to a soothsayer who claimed to be able to restore the old man's firstborn son to life.\" The man's little finger snapped out, and he waved his extended hand at Don Lorenzo. \"Now, we have the Don and Doña Salvara involved in a secret business deal that is both tempting and convenient. Tell me, have you ever heard of the troubles of the lords and ladies I have named?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No.\"\n\n\"Doña de Marre visits your wife in her garden twice weekly. They discuss alchemical botany together. You've played cards with the sons of Don Javarriz many times. And yet this is all a surprise to you?\"\n\n\"Yes, quite, I assure you!\"\n\n\"It was a surprise to His Grace, as well. My master has spent four years attempting to follow the slender threads of evidence connecting these crimes, m'lord. A fortune the size of your own vanished into thin air, and it took ducal orders to pry open the lips of the wronged parties. Because their pride compelled their silence.\"\n\nDon Lorenzo stared at the surface of his desk fora long moment.\n\n\"Fehrwight has a suite at the Tumblehome. He has a manservant, superior clothes, hundred-crown optics. He has... proprietary secrets of the House of bel Auster.\" Don Salvara looked up at the scarred man as though presenting a difficult problem to a demanding tutor. \"Things that no thief could have!\"\n\n\"Would fine clothes be beyond the means of a man with more than forty thousand stolen crowns at his command? And his cask of unaged brandy-how would you or I or any other man outside the House of bel Auster know what it should look like? Or what it should taste like? It's a simple fraud.\"\n\n\"He was recognized on the street by a solicitor, one of the Razona lawscribes who sticks to the walls at Meraggio's!\"\n\n\"Of course he was, because he began building the identity of Lukas Fehrwight long ago, probably before he ever met Doña de Marre. He has a very real account at Meraggio's, opened with real money five years ago. He has every outward flourish that a man in his position should bear, but Lukas Fehrwight is a ghost. A lie. A stage role performed fora very select private audience. I have tracked him for months.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"We are sensible people, Sofia and I. Surely... surely we would have seen something out of place.\"\n\n\"Out of place? The entire affair has been out of place! M'lord Salvara, I implore you, hear me carefully. You area financier of fine liquors. You say a prayer to your mother's shade each week at a Vadran temple. What a fascinating coincidence that you should chance upon a needy Vadran who happens to be a dealer in the same field, eh?\"\n\n\"Where else but the Temple of Fortunate Waters would a Vadran pray while visiting Camorr?\"\n\n\"Nowhere, of course. But look at the coincidences piling heavily upon one another. A Vadran liquor merchant, in need of rescue, and he just so happens to be on his way to visit Don Jacobo? Your blood enemy? A man that everyone knows you would crush by any means the duke hadn't forbidden you?\"\n\n\"Were you... observing us when I first met him?\"\n\n\"Yes, very carefully. We saw you and your man approach that alley to rescue a man you thought to be in danger. We-\"\n\n\"Thought? He was being strangled!\"\n\n\"Was he? The men in those masks were his accomplices, m'lord. The fight was staged. It was a means to introduce you to the imaginary merchant and his imaginary opportunity. Everything you value was used to bait the trap! Your sympathies for Vadrans, your sense of duty, your courage, your interest in fine liquors, your desire to best Don Jacobo. And can it be a coincidence that Fehrwight's scheme must be secret? That it runs on an extremely short and demanding schedule? That it just happens to feed your every known ambition?\"\n\nThe don stared at the far wall of his study, tapping his fingers against his desk at a gradually increasing tempo. \"This is quite a shock,\" he said at last, in a small voice without any fight left in it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Forgive me for that, my Lord Salvara. The truth is unfortunate. Of course the Thorn of Camorr isn't ten feet tall. Of course he can't walk through walls. But he is a very real thief; he is posing as a Vadran named Lukas Fehrwight, and he does have five thousand crowns of your money, with an eye for twenty thousand more.\"\n\n\"I must send men to Meraggio's, so he can't exchange my note in the morning,\" said Don Lorenzo.\n\n\"Respectfully, my lord, you must do nothing of the sort. My instructions are clear. We don't just want the Thorn, we want his accomplices. His contacts. His sources of information. His entire network of thieves and spies. We have him in the open, now, and we can follow him as he goes about his business. One hint that his game is unmasked, and he will bolt. The opportunity we have may never present itself again. His Grace Duke Nicovante is quite adamant that everyone involved in these crimes must be identified and taken. Toward that end, your absolute cooperation is requested and required, in the duke's name.\"\n\n\"What am Ito do, then?\"\n\n\"Continue to act as though you are entirely taken in by Fehrwight's story. Let him exchange the note. Let him taste some success. And when he returns to you asking for more money...\"\n\n\"Yes?\"\n\n\"Why, give it to him, my lord. Give him everything he asks.\"\n\nONCE THE dinner dishes were cleared away, and a tipsy Bug was given the task of setting them a-sparkle with warm water and white sand (\"Excellent for your moral education!\" Jean had cried as he'd heaped up the porcelain and crystal), Locke and Calo withdrew to the burrow's wardrobe to begin preparations for the third and most critical touch of the Don Salvara game." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Elderglass cellar beneath the House of Perelandro was divided into three areas; one of them was the kitchen, another was split into sleeping quarters with wooden partitions, and the third was referred to as the Wardrobe.\n\nLong clothes-racks stretched across every wall of the Wardrobe, holding hundreds of pieces of costuming organized by origin, by season, by cut, by size, and by social class. There were sackcloth robes, laborer's tunics, and butcher's aprons with dried bloodstains. There were cloaks of winter weight and summer weight, cheaply woven and finely tailored, unadorned or decorated with everything up to precious metal trim and peacock feathers. There were robes and accessories for most of the Therin priestly orders-Perelandro, Morgante, Nara, Sendovani, Iono, and so forth. There were silk blouses and cunningly armored doublets, gloves and ties and cravats, enough canes and walking sticks to outfit a mercenary company of hobbled old men.\n\nChains had started this collection more than twenty years before, and his students had added to it with the wealth gained from years of schemes. Very little worn by the Gentlemen Bastards went to waste; even the foulest-smelling sweat-soaked summer garments were washed and dusted with alchemical pomanders and hung carefully. They could always befouled up again, if needed.\n\nA man-height looking glass dominated the heart of the Wardrobe; another, much smaller glass hung from a sort of pulley system on the ceiling, so that it could be moved around and positioned as necessary. Locke stood before the larger mirror dressed in matching doublet and breeches of midnight velvet; his hose was the scarlet of blood in sunset waters, and his simple Camorri tie was a near match." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Is this bloody melodrama really such a good idea?\" Calo was dressed quite similarly, though his hose and his accents were gray; he pulled his tunic sleeves back above his elbows and fastened them therewith black pearl clips.\n\n\"It's a fine idea,\" Locke said, adjusting his tie. \"We're Midnighters. We're full of ourselves. What sort of self-respecting spy would break into a manor house in darkest night wearing green, or orange, or white?\"\n\n\"The sort that walked up and knocked at the door would.\"\n\n\"I appreciate that, but I still don't want to change the plan. Don Salvara's had a busy day. He'll be wide open fora nice shock at the end of it. Can't shock him quite the same in lavender and carmine.\"\n\n\"Well, certainly not in the way you're thinking, no.\"\n\n\"This doublet's damned uncomfortable in the back,\" Locke muttered. \"Jean! Jeeeeaaaaaaan!\"\n\n\"What is it?\" came an echoing return shout along moment later.\n\n\"Why, I just love to say your name. Get inhere!\"\n\nJean ambled into the Wardrobe a moment later, a glass of brandy in one hand and a battered book in the other.\n\n\"I thought Graumann had the night off for this bit,\" he said.\n\n\"He does.\" Locke gestured impatiently at the back of his doublet. \"I need the services of Camorr's ugliest seamstress.\"\n\n\"Galdo's helping Bug wash up.\"\n\n\"Grab your needles, glass-eyes.\"\n\nJean's eyebrows drew down above his reading optics, but he set down his book and his glass and opened a small wooden chest set against one of the Wardrobe walls." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What're you reading?\" Calo had added a tiny silver and amethyst clip to the center of his tie and was examining himself in the small glass, approvingly.\n\n\"Kimlarthen,\" Jean replied, working black thread through a white bone needle and trying not to prick his fingers.\n\n\"The Korish romances?\" Locke snorted. \"Sentimental crap. Never knew you had a taste for fairy stories.\"\n\n\"They happen to be culturally significant records of the Therin Throne centuries,\" Jean said as he stepped behind Locke, seam ripper in one hand and threaded needle in the other. \"Plus at least three knights get their heads torn completely off by the Beast of Vuazzo.\"\n\n\"Illustrated manuscript, by chance?\"\n\n\"Not the good parts, no.\" Jean fiddled with the back of the doublet as delicately as he had ever charmed a lock or a victim's coat pocket.\n\n\"Oh, just let it out. I don't care how it looks; it'll be hidden in the back of my cloak anyway. We can pretty it up later.\"\n\n\"We?\" Jean snorted as he loosened the doublet with a few strategic rips and slashes. \"Me, more like. You mend clothes like dogs write poetry.\"\n\n\"And I readily admit it. Oh, gods, much better. Now there's room to hide the sigil-wallet and a few surprises, just in case.\"\n\n\"It feels odd to be letting something out for you, rather than taking it in.\" Jean arranged his tools as he'd found them in the sewing chest and closed it backup. \"Do mind your training; we wouldn't want you gaining half a pound.\"\n\n\"Well, most of me is brain-weight.\" Locke folded his own tunic sleeves back and pinned them up as Calo had." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're one-third bad intentions, one-third pure avarice, and one-eighth sawdust. What's left, I'll credit, must be brains.\"\n\n\"Well, since you're here, and you're such an expert on my poor self, why don't you pullout the Masque Box and help me with my face?\"\n\nJean paused fora sip from his brandy glass before pulling out a tall, battered wooden box inset with many dozens of small drawers. \"What do we want to do first, your hair? You're going black, right?\"\n\n\"As pitch. I should only have to be this fellow two or three times.\"\n\nJean twirled a white cloth around the shoulders of Locke's doublet and fastened it in front with a tiny bone clasp. He then opened a poultice jar and smeared his fingers with the contents, a firm dark gel that smelled richly of citrus. \"Hmm. Looks like charcoal and smells like oranges. I'll never fathom Jessaline's sense of humor.\"\n\nLocke smiled as Jean began to knead the stuff into his brown hair. \"Even a black apothecary needs to stay amused somehow. Remember that beef-scented knockout candle she gave us, to deal with Don Feluccia's damn guard dog?\"\n\n\"Very droll, that.\" Calo frowned as he made further minute adjustments to his own finery. \"Stray cats running from every corner of Camorr at the scent. Dropping in their tracks until the street was full of little bodies. Wind shifting allover the place, and all of us running around trying to stay ahead of the smoke...\"\n\n\"Not our finest moment,\" said Jean. His job was already nearly finished; the stuff seemed to sink into Locke's hair, imparting a natural-looking shade of deep Camorri black, with only the slightest sheen. But many men in Camorr used slick substances to hold or perfume their hair; this would hardly be noteworthy." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean wiped his fingers on Locke's white neck-towel, then dipped a scrap of cloth into another poultice jar containing a pearly gel. This stuff, when applied to his fingers, cleared the residue of hair dye away as though the black gel were evaporating into thin air. Jean dabbed the cloth at Locke's temples and neck, erasing the faint smudges and drips leftover from the coloring process.\n\n\"Scar?\" Jean asked when he was finished.\n\n\"Please.\" Locke ran his little finger across the line of his right cheekbone. \"Slash right across there if you would.\"\n\nJean withdrew a slender wooden tube with a chalky white tip from the Masque Box and drew a short line on Locke's face with it, just as Locke had indicated. Locke flinched as the stuff sizzled fora second or two; in the blink of an eye the white line hardened into a raised, pale arc of pseudo-skin, perfectly mimicking a scar.\n\nBug appeared through the Wardrobe door at that instant, his cheeks a bit ruddier than usual. In one hand he held a black leather folding wallet, slightly larger than that which a gentleman would ordinarily carry. \"Kitchen's clean. Galdo said you'd forget this if I didn't bring it in and throw it at you.\"\n\n\"Please don't take him literally.\" Locke held out a hand for the wallet while Jean removed the white cloth from his shoulders, satisfied that the hair dye was dry. \"Break that thing and I'll roll you to Emberlain in a barrel. Personally.\"\n\nThe sigil inside the wallet, the intricate confection of gold and crystal and frosted glass, was by far the most expensive prop of the whole game; even the 502 cask of Austershalin had been cheaper. The sigil had been crafted in Talisham, four days'ride down the coast to the south; no Camorri counterfeiter, regardless of skill, could be trusted to be quiet or comfortable about mimicking the badge of the duke's own secret police." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Aid the author by keeping the plot going.\nTags: fantasy, heist, crime\nAuthor: Scott Lynch\nTitle: The Lies of Locke Lamora\nChapter: 6" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean wiped his fingers on Locke's white neck-towel, then dipped a scrap of cloth into another poultice jar containing a pearly gel. This stuff, when applied to his fingers, cleared the residue of hair dye away as though the black gel were evaporating into thin air. Jean dabbed the cloth at Locke's temples and neck, erasing the faint smudges and drips leftover from the coloring process.\n\n\"Scar?\" Jean asked when he was finished.\n\n\"Please.\" Locke ran his little finger across the line of his right cheekbone. \"Slash right across there if you would.\"\n\nJean withdrew a slender wooden tube with a chalky white tip from the Masque Box and drew a short line on Locke's face with it, just as Locke had indicated. Locke flinched as the stuff sizzled fora second or two; in the blink of an eye the white line hardened into a raised, pale arc of pseudo-skin, perfectly mimicking a scar.\n\nBug appeared through the Wardrobe door at that instant, his cheeks a bit ruddier than usual. In one hand he held a black leather folding wallet, slightly larger than that which a gentleman would ordinarily carry. \"Kitchen's clean. Galdo said you'd forget this if I didn't bring it in and throw it at you.\"\n\n\"Please don't take him literally.\" Locke held out a hand for the wallet while Jean removed the white cloth from his shoulders, satisfied that the hair dye was dry. \"Break that thing and I'll roll you to Emberlain in a barrel. Personally.\"\n\nThe sigil inside the wallet, the intricate confection of gold and crystal and frosted glass, was by far the most expensive prop of the whole game; even the 502 cask of Austershalin had been cheaper. The sigil had been crafted in Talisham, four days'ride down the coast to the south; no Camorri counterfeiter, regardless of skill, could be trusted to be quiet or comfortable about mimicking the badge of the duke's own secret police." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A stylized spider over the Royal Seal of the Serene Duchy; none of the Gentlemen Bastards had ever seen one, but Locke was confident that few of the lesser nobility had, either. The rough description of the dreaded sigil was whispered by the Right People of Camorr, and from that description a best-guess forgery had been put together.\n\n\"Durant the Gimp says that the Spider's just bullshit,\" said Bug as he handed over the wallet. All three older Gentlemen Bastards in the room looked at him sharply.\n\n\"If you put Durant's brains in a thimble full of water,\" said Jean, \"they'd look like a ship lost in the middle of the sea.\"\n\n\"The Midnighters are real, Bug.\" Locke patted his hair gingerly and found that his hands came away clean. \"If you're ever found breaching the Peace, you'd better pray the capa gets to you before they do. Barsavi's the soul of mercy compared to the man that runs the Palace of Patience.\"\n\n\"I know the Midnighters are real,\" said Bug. \"I just said, there's some that say the Spider is bullshit.\"\n\n\"Oh, he exists. Jean, pick out a moustache for me. Something that goes with this hair.\" Locke ran a finger over the smooth skin around his lips, shaved just after dinner. \"There's a man behind the Midnighters. Jean and I have spent years trying to figure out which of the duke's court it must be, but all the leads go nowhere in the end.\"\n\n\"Even Galdo and I are stumped,\" added Calo. \"So you know we're dealing with a devil of singular subtlety.\"\n\n\"How can you be sure, though?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Let me put it like this, Bug.\" Locke paused while Jean held up a false moustache; Locke shook his head and Jean went back to digging in the Masque Box. \"When Capa Barsavi does for someone, we hear about it, right? We have connections, and the word gets passed. The capa wants people to know his reasons-it avoids future trouble, makes an example.\"\n\n\"And when the duke does for someone himself,\" said Calo, \"there's always signs. Yellowjackets, Nightglass soldiers, writs, trials, proclamations.\"\n\n\"But when the Spider puts the finger on someone...\" Locke gave a brief nod of approval to the second moustache Jean held up for consideration. \"When it's the Spider, the poor bastard in question falls right off the face of the world. And Capa Barsavi doesn't say a thing. Do you understand? He pretends that nothing has happened. So when you grasp that Barsavi doesn't fear the duke... looks down on him quite a bit, actually... well, it follows that there's someone out there who does make him wet his breeches.\"\n\n\"Oh. You mean other than the Gray King?\"\n\nCalo snorted. \"This Gray King mess will be over in a few months, Bug. One lone madman against three thousand knives, all answering to Barsavi-the Gray King is a walking corpse. The Spider isn't so easily gotten rid of.\"\n\n\"Which,\" said Locke, \"is exactly why we're hoping to see Don Salvara jump six feet in the air when he finds us waiting in his study. Because the blue-bloods are no more comfortable with surprise visits from Midnighters than we are.\"\n\n\"I hate to interrupt,\" said Jean, \"but did you shave this time? Ah. Good.\" With a small stick, he applied a glistening smear of transparent paste to Locke's upper lip; Locke wrinkled his nose in disgust. With a few quick finger motions Jean placed the false moustache and pressed it home; in a second or two it was set there as firmly as if it had grown naturally." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"This gum is made from the inner hide of a wolf shark,\" Jean explained for Bug's sake, \"and last time we used it, we forgot to pickup some of the dissolving spirit-\"\n\n\"And I had to get rid of the moustache in a hurry,\" said Locke.\n\n\"And damned if he didn't scream when Jean did the honors,\" said Calo.\n\n\"Like a Sanza brother in an empty whorehouse!\" Locke made a rude gesture at Calo; Calo mimed aiming and loosing a crossbow at him in return.\n\n\"Scar, moustache, hair; are we done here?\" Jean packed the last of the disguise implements away in the Masque Box.\n\n\"That should do it, yes.\" Locke stared at his reflection in the large mirror fora moment, and when he spoke next his voice had altered; subtly deeper, slightly rougher. His intonation was the bored humorlessness of a watch-sergeant dressing down a petty offender for the thousandth time in his career. \"Let's go tell a man he's got himself a problem with some thieves.\"\n\n\"SO,\" SAID Don Lorenzo Salvara, \"you wish me to continue deliberately granting promissory notes to a man that you describe as the most capable thief in Camorr.\"\n\n\"Respectfully, m'lord Salvara, that's what you would have done anyway, even without our intervention.\"\n\nWhen Locke spoke, there was no hint of Lukas Fehrwight in his voice or in his mannerisms; there was no trace of the Vadran merchant's restrained energy or stuffy dignity. This new fiction had the fictional backing of the duke's incontrovertible writ; he was the sort of man who could and would tease a don while invading the sanctity of that don's home. Such audacity could never be faked-Locke had to feel it, summon it from somewhere inside, cloak himself in arrogance as though it were an old familiar garment. Locke Lamora became a shadow in his own mind-he was a Midnighter, an officer in the duke's silent constabulary. Locke's complicated lies were this new man's simple truth." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The sums discussed could... easily total half my available holdings.\"\n\n\"Then give our friend Fehrwight half your fortune, m'lord. Choke the Thorn on exactly what he desires. Promissory notes will tie him down, keep him moving back and forth between countinghouses.\"\n\n\"Countinghouses that will throw my very real money after this phantom, you mean.\"\n\n\"Yes. In the service of the duke, no less. Take heart, m'lord Salvara. His Grace is entirely capable of compensating you for any loss you incur while aiding us in the capture of this man. In my opinion, though, the Thorn will have time to neither spend it nor move it very far, so your stolen money should be recovered before that even becomes necessary. You must also consider the aspects of the situation that are not strictly financial.\"\n\n\"Meaning?\"\n\n\"His Grace's gratitude for your assistance in bringing this matter to our desired outcome,\" said Locke, \"balanced against his certain displeasure if any reluctance on your part should alert our thief to the net drawing tight around him.\"\n\n\"Ah.\" Don Salvara picked his optics up and resettled them on his nose. \"With that I can hardly argue.\"\n\n\"I will not be able to speak to you in public. No uniformed member of the Camorr watch will approach you for any reason related to this affair. If I speak to you at all, it must beat night, in secret.\"\n\n\"Am Ito tell Conté to keep refreshments at hand for men coming in through the windows? Shall I tell the Doña Sofia to send any Midnighters to my study if they should pop out of her wardrobe closet?\"\n\n\"I give you my word any future appearances will be less alarming, my lord. My instructions were to impress upon you the seriousness of the situation and the full extent of our ability to... bypass obstacles. I assure you, I have no personal desire to anatagonize you any further. Resecuring your fortune will be the capstone to many months of hard work on my part.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And the Doña Sofia? Has your master dictated apart for her in this... counter-charade?\"\n\n\"Your wife is a most extraordinary woman. By all means, inform her of our involvement. Tell her the truth about Lukas Fehrwight. Enlist her very capable aid in our endeavor. However,\" Locke said, grinning malignantly,\n\n\"I do believe that I shall regretfully leave you the task of explaining this to heron your own, my lord.\"\n\nON THE landward side of Camorr, armed men pace the old stonewalls of the city, ever vigilant for signs of bandits or hostile armies in the field. On the seaward side, watchtowers and war galleys serve the same purpose.\n\nAt the guard stations on the periphery of the Alcegrante district, the city watch stands ready to protect the city's lesser nobility from the annoyance of having to see or smell any of their actual subjects against their wishes.\n\nLocke and Calo crossed the Angevine just before midnight on the broad glass bridge called the Eldren Arch. This ornately carved span connected the western Alcegrante with the lush semipublic gardens of Twosilver Green-another spot where the insufficiently well-heeled were discouraged from lingering, often with whips and batons.\n\nTall cylinders of ruby-colored glass shed alchemical light onto the wispy threads of mist that curled and wavered below the knees of their horses; the center of the bridge was fifty feet above the water, and the usual night fog reached no higher. The red lamps swayed gently within their black iron frames as the muggy Hangman's Breeze spun them, and the two Gentlemen Bastards rode down into the Alcegrante with that eerie light surrounding them like a bloody aura." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hold there! State your name and business!\"\n\nAt the point where the bridge met the Angevine's north shore there was a low wooden shack with oil-paper windows, through which a pale white glow emanated. A single figure stood beside it, his yellow tabard turned to orange in the light of the bridge lamps. The speaker's words might have been bold, but his voice was young and a little uncertain.\n\nLocke smiled; the Alcegrante guard shacks always held two yellowjackets, but at this one the more senior had clearly sent his less-hardened partner out into the fog to do the actual work. So much the better-Locke pulled his precious sigil-wallet out of his black cloak as his horse cantered down beside the guard station.\n\n\"My name is immaterial.\" Locke flipped the wallet open to allow the round-faced young city watchman a glimpse of the sigil by the light of his guard station. \"My business is that of His Grace, Duke Nicovante.\"\n\n\"I... I see, sir.\"\n\n\"I never came this way. We did not speak. Be sure that your fellow watchman understands this as well.\"\n\nThe yellowjacket bowed and took a quickstep backward, as though afraid to stay too close. Locke smiled. Black-cloaked riders on black horses, looming out of darkness and mist... It was easy to laugh at such conceits in full daylight. But night had away of lending weight to phantasms.\n\nIf Coin-Kisser's Row was where Camorr's money was put to use, the Alcegrante district was where it was put to rest. It was four connected islands, each a sort of tiered hill sloping up to the base of the plateau that held the Five Towers; old money and new money mingled crazy-quilt fashion herein mazes of manor houses and private gardens. Here the merchants and money-changers and ship-brokers looked down comfortably on the rest of the city; here the lesser nobility looked up covetously at the towers of the Five Families who ruled all." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Carriages clattered past from time to time, their black lacquered wooden cabins trailing bobbing lanterns and banners proclaiming the arms of whoever traveled within. Some of these were guarded by teams of armed outriders in slashed doublets and polished breastplates-this year's fashion for rented thugs. A few teams of horses wore harnesses spotted with miniature alchemical lights; these appeared at a distance looking like chains of fireflies bobbing in the mist.\n\nDon Salvara's manor was a four-story pillared rectangle, several centuries old and sagging a bit under the weight of its years, for it had been built entirely by human hands. It was a sort of island unto itself at the heart of the Isla Durona, westernmost neighborhood of the Alcegrante; surrounded on all sides by a twelve-foot stonewall and enclosed by thick gardens. It shared no party walls with neighboring manors. Amber lights burned behind the barred windows on the third floor.\n\nLocke and Calo quietly dismounted in the alley adjacent to the manor's northern wall. Several long nights of careful reconnaissance by Locke and Bug had revealed the easiest routes over the alley wall and up the side of the Salvara manor. Dressed as they were, hidden by mist and darkness, they would be effectively invisible as soon as they could hop the outer wall and get off the street.\n\nA moment of fortunate stillness fell upon them as Calo tied the horses to a weathered wooden post beside the garden wall; not a soul was insight. Calo stroked his horse's thin mane.\n\n\"Hoist a glass or two in memory of us if we don't comeback, love.\"\n\nLocke put his back against the base of the wall and cupped his hands. Calo set afoot in this makeshift stirrup and leapt upward, propelled by the mingled strength of his legs and Locke's arms. When he'd hoisted himself quietly and carefully atop the wall, he reached back down with both arms to hoist Locke up. The Sanza twin was as wiry as Locke was slender, and the operation went smoothly. In seconds they were both down in the wet, fragrant darkness of the garden, crouched motionless, listening." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The doors on the ground floor were all protected from within by intricate clockwork failsafes and steel bars-they simply could not be picked. But the rooftop... well, those who weren't yet important enough to live with the constant threat of assassination often placed an inordinate degree of faith in high walls.\n\nThe two thieves went up the north face of the manor house, slowly and carefully, wedging hands and feet firmly into chinks in the warm, slick stone. The first and second floors were dark and quiet; the light on the third floor was on the opposite side of the building. Hearts hammering with excitement, they hauled themselves up until they were just beneath the parapet of the roof, where they paused fora long interval, straining to catch at any sound from within the manor that would hint at discovery.\n\nThe moons were stuffed away behind gauzy gray clouds; on their left the city was an arc of blurred jewel-lights shining through mist, and above them the impossible heights of the Five Towers stood like black shadows before the sky. The threads of light that burned on their parapets and in their windows enhanced rather than reduced their aura of menace. Staring up at them from near the ground was a sure recipe for vertigo.\n\nLocke was the first over the parapet. Peering intently by the faint light falling from above, he planted his feet on a white-tiled pathway in the center of the roof and kept them there. He was surrounded on either side by the dark shapes of bushes, blossoms, small trees, and vines-the roof was rich with the scent of vegetation and night soil. The street-level garden was a mundane affair, if well tended; this was the Doña Sofia's private botanical preserve.\n\nMost alchemical botanists, in Locke's experience, were enthusiasts of bizarre poisons. He made sure his hood and cloak were cinched tight around him, and pulled his black neck-cloth up over his lower face." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Soft-stepping along the white path, Locke and Calo threaded their way through Sofia's garden, more carefully than if they had been walking between streams of lamp oil with their cloaks on fire. At the garden's center was a roof hatch with a simple tumbler lock; Calo listened carefully at this door for two minutes with his favorite picks poised in his hands. Charming the lock took less than ten seconds.\n\nThe fourth floor: Doña Sofia's workshop, a place where the two intruders wanted even less to stumble or linger than they had in her garden. Quiet as guilty husbands coming home from a late night of drinking, they stole through the darkrooms of laboratory apparatus and potted plants, scampering for the narrow stone stairs that led downward to aside passage on the third floor.\n\nThe operations of the Salvara household were well known to the Gentlemen Bastards; the don and doña kept their private chambers on the third floor, across the hall from the don's study. The second floor was the solar, a reception and dining hall that went mostly disused when the couple had no friends over to entertain. The first floor held the kitchen, several parlors, and the servants\" quarters. In addition to Conté, the Salvaras kept a pair of middle-aged housekeepers, a cook, and a young boy who served as a messenger and scullion. All of them would be asleep on the first floor; none of them posed even a fraction of the threat that Conté did.\n\nThis was the part of the scheme that couldn't be planned with any precision-they had to locate the old soldier and deal with him before they could have their intended conversation with Don Salvara.\n\nFootsteps echoed from somewhere else on the floor; Locke, in the lead, crouched low and peeked around the left-hand corner. It turned out he was looking down the long passage that divided the third floor in half lengthwise; Don Salvara had left the door to his study open and was vanishing into the bedchamber. That door he closed firmly behind him-and a moment later the sound of a metal lock echoed down the hall." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Serendipity,\" whispered Locke. \"I suspect he'll be busy for quite sometime in there. Light's still on in his study, so we know he's coming back out... Let's get the hard part over with.\"\n\nLocke and Calo slipped down the hallway, sweating now, but barely letting their heavy cloaks flutter as they moved. The long passage was tastefully decorated with hanging tapestries and shallow wall sconces in which tiny glow-glasses shed no more light than that of smoldering coals. Behind the heavy doors to the Salvaras' chambers, someone laughed.\n\nThe stairwell at the far end of the passage was wide and circular; steps of white marble inset with mosaic-tile maps of Camorr spiralled down into the solar. Here Calo grabbed Locke by one sleeve, put a finger to his lips, and jerked his head downward.\n\n\"Listen,\" he murmured.\n\nClang, clang... footsteps... clang, clang.\n\nThis sequence of noises was repeated several times, growing slightly louder each time. Locke grinned at Calo. Someone was pacing the solar, methodically checking the locks and the iron bars guarding each window. At this time of the night, there was only one man in the house who'd be doing such a thing.\n\nCalo knelt beside the balustrade, just to the left of the top of the staircase. Anyone coming up the spiral stairs would have to pass directly beneath this position. He reached inside his cloak and took out a folded leather sack and a length of narrow-gauge rope woven from black silk; he then began to thread the silk line through and around the sack in some arcane fashion that Locke couldn't follow. Locke knelt just behind Calo and kept one eye on the long passage they'd comedown-a reappearance of the don was hardly likely yet, but the Benefactor was said to make colorful examples of incautious thieves." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Conté's light, steady footsteps echoed on the staircase beneath them.\n\nIna fair fight, the don's man would almost certainly paint the walls with Locke and Calo's blood, so it stood to reason that this fight would have to be as unfair as possible. At the moment the top of Conté's bald head appeared beneath him, Calo reached out between the balustrade posts and let his crimper's hood drop.\n\nA crimper's hood, for those who've never had the occasion to be kidnapped and sold into slavery in one of the cities on the Iron Sea, looks a bit like a tent as it flutters quickly downward, borne by weights sewn into its bottom edges. Air pushes its flaps outward just before it drops down around its target's head and settles on his shoulders. Conté gave a startled jerk as Calo yanked the black silk cord, instantly cinching the hood closed around his neck.\n\nAnyone with any real presence of mind could probably reach up and fumble such a hood loose in a matter of seconds, which is why the interior is inevitably painted with large amounts of some sweet-scented fuming narcotic, purchased from a black apothecary. Knowing the nature of the man they were attempting to subdue, Locke and Calo had spent nearly thirty crowns on the stuff Conté was breathing just now, and Locke fervently wished him much joy of it.\n\nOne panic-breath inside the airtight hood; that would be enough to drop any ordinary person in his or her tracks. But as Locke flew down the stairs to catch Conté's body, he saw that the man was still somehow upright, clawing at the hood-disoriented and weakened, most definitely, but still awake. A quick rap on the solar plexus-that would open his mouth and speed the drug on its way. Locke stepped into deliver the blow, wrapping one hand around Conté's neck just beneath the crimper's hood. This nearly blew the entire game." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Conté's arms flashed up and broke Locke's lackadaisical choke hold before it even began; the man's left arm snaked out to entangle Locke's right, and then Conté punched him-once, twice, three times; vicious jabs in his own stomach and solar plexus." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With his guts an exploding constellation of pain, Locke sank down against his would-be victim, struggling for balance. Conté brought his right knee up in a blow that should have knocked Locke's teeth out of his ears at high speed, but the drug was finally, thankfully smothering the old soldier's will to be ornery. The knee barely grazed Locke's chin; instead, the booted foot attached to it caught him in the groin and knocked him backward. His head bounced against the hard marble of the stairs, somewhat cushioned by the cloth of his hood; Locke lay there, gasping for breath, still hanging awkwardly by one of the hooded man's arms.\n\nCalo appeared at that instant, having dropped the line that cinched his crimper's hood and dashed down the stairs. He slipped one foot behind Conté's increasingly wobbly legs and pushed the man down the stairs, holding him by the front of his doublet to keep the fall relatively quiet. Once Conté was head-down and prone, Calo punched him rather mercilessly between the legs-once, then again when the man's legs twitched feebly, and then again, which yielded no response. The hood had finally done its work. With Conté temporarily disposed of, Calo turned to Locke and tried to help him to a sitting position, but Locke waved him off.\n\n\"What sort of state are you in?\" Calo whispered.\n\n\"As though I'm with child, and the little bastard is trying to cut his way outwith an axe.\" Chest heaving, Locke tore his black mask down off his face, lest he vomit inside it and create an unconcealable mess.\n\nWhile Locke gulped deep breaths and tried to control his shuddering, Calo crouched back down beside Conté and tore the hood off, briskly waving away the sickly-sweet aroma of the leather bag's contents. He carefully folded the hood up, slipped it into his cloak, and then dragged Conté up a few steps." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Calo.\" Locke coughed. \"My disguise-damaged?\"\n\n\"Not that I can see. Looks like he didn't do anything that shows, provided you can walk without a slouch. Stay here a moment.\"\n\nCalo slipped down to the foot of the stairs and took a peek around the darkened solar; soft city light fell through the barred windows, faintly illuminating along table and a number of glass cases on the walls, holding plates and unidentifiable knickknacks. Not another soul was insight, and not a sound could be heard from below.\n\nWhen Calo returned, Locke had pushed himself upon his knees and hands; Conté slumbered beside him with a look of comical bliss on his craggy face.\n\n\"Oh, he's not going to keep that expression when he wakes up.\" Calo waved a pair of thin, leather-padded brass knuckles at Locke, then made them vanish up his sleeyes with a graceful flourish. \"I had my footpad's little friends on when I knocked him around that last time.\"\n\n\"Well, I for one have no expressions of sympathy to spare, since he kicked my balls hard enough to make them permanent residents of my lungs.\" Locke tried to push himself up off his hands and failed; Calo caught him under his right arm and eased him up until he was kneeling, shakily, on his knees alone.\n\n\"You've got your breath back, at least. Can you actually walk?\"\n\n\"I can stumble, I think. I'll be hunched over fora while. Give me a few minutes and I think I can pretend nothing's wrong. At least until we're out of here.\"\n\nCalo assisted Locke backup the stairs to the third floor. Leaving Locke thereto keep watch, he then began to quietly, slowly drag Conté up the same way. The don's man didn't actually weigh all that much." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Embarrassed, and eager to make himself useful again, Locke pulled two lengths of tough cord out of his own cloak and bound Conté's feet and hands with them; he folded a handkerchief three times and used it as a gag. Locke pulled Conté's knives out of their sheaths and passed them to Calo, who stashed them within his cloak.\n\nThe don's study door still hung open, shedding warm light into the passage; the bedchamber doors remained locked tight.\n\n\"I pray you both maybe gifted with a demand and an endurance well beyond your usual expectations, m'lord and lady,\" whispered Calo. \"Your household thieves would appreciate a short break before continuing with their duties for the evening.\"\n\nCalo grasped Conté beneath his arms, and Locke, slouched in obvious pain, nonetheless grabbed the man's feet when Calo began to drag him all by himself. With tedious stealth, they retraced their steps and deposited the unconscious bodyguard around the far bend in the corridor, just beside the stairs leading backup to the fourth-floor laboratories.\n\nThe don's study was a most welcome sight when they finally stole in a few minutes later. Locke settled into a deeply cushioned leather armchair on the left-hand wall, while Calo took up a standing guard position. More laughter could be heard, faintly, from across the hall.\n\n\"We could be here quite awhile,\" said Calo.\n\n\"The gods are merciful.\" Locke stared at the don's tall glass-fronted liquor cabinet-one even more impressive than the collection his pleasure barge carried. \"I'd pour us a draught or six, but I don't think it would be in character.\"\n\nThey waited ten minutes, fifteen, twenty. Locke breathed steadily and deeply, and concentrated on ignoring the throbbing ache that seemed to fill his guts from top to bottom. Yet when the two thieves heard the door across the hallway unbolting, Locke leapt to his feet, standing tall, pretending that his balls didn't feel like clay jugs dropped onto cobblestones from a great height. He cinched his black mask back on and willed a wave of perfect arrogance to claim him from the inside out." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As Father Chains had once said, the best disguises were those that were poured out of the heart rather than painted on the face.\n\nCalo kissed the back of his left hand through his own mask and winked.\n\nDon Lorenzo Salvara walked into his study whistling, lightly dressed and completely unarmed.\n\n\"Close the door,\" said Locke, and his voice was steady, rich with the absolute presumption of command. \"Have a seat, m'lord, and don't bother calling for your man. He is... indisposed.\"\n\nAN HOUR past midnight, two men left the Alcegrante district via the Eldren Arch. They wore black cloaks and had black horses; one of them rode with a leisurely air, while the other led his horse on foot, walking in a curiously bowlegged fashion.\n\n\"Un-fucking-believable,\" said Calo. \"It really did workout just as you planned. It's a pity we can't brag about this to anyone. Our biggest score ever, and all we had to do was tell our mark exactly what we were doing to him.\"\n\n\"And get kicked around a bit,\" muttered Locke.\n\n\"Yeah, sorry about that. What a beast that man was, eh? Take comfort that he'll feel the same way when he opens his eyes again.\"\n\n\"How very comforting. If reassurances could dull pain, nobody would ever go to the trouble of pressing grapes.\"\n\n\"By the Crooked Warden, I never heard such self-pity dripping from the mouth of a wealthy man. Cheer up! Richer and cleverer than everyone else, right?\"\n\n\"Richer and cleverer and walking funny, yes.\"\n\nThe pair of thieves made their way south through Twosilver Green, toward the first of the stops where they would gradually lose their horses and shed their black clothes, until they were finally heading back to the Temple District dressed as common laborers. They nodded companionably at patrols of yellowjackets, stomping about in the mist with lanterns swaying on pike-poles to light their way. Not once were they given any reason to glance up." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The fluttering shadow that trailed them on their way through the streets and alleys was quieter than a small child's breath; swift and graceful, it swooped from rooftop to rooftop in their wake, following their actions with absolute single-mindedness. When they slipped back into the Temple District, it beat its wings and rose into the darkness in a lazy spiraling circle, until it was up above the mists of Camorr and lost against the gray haze of the low-hanging clouds." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke's first experience with the mirror wine of Tal Verrar had even more of an effect on the boy's malnourished body than Chains had expected. Locke spent most of the next day tossing and turning on his cot, his head pounding and his eyes unable to bear anything but the most gentle spark of light.\n\n\"It's a fever,\" Locke muttered into his sweat-soaked blanket.\n\n\"It's a hangover.\" Chains ran a hand through the boy's hair and patted his back. \"My fault, really. The Sanza twins are natural liquor sponges. I shouldn't have let you live up to their standard on your first night with us. No work for you today.\"\n\n\"Liquor does this? Even after you're sober?\"\n\n\"A cruel joke, isn't it? The gods put a price tag on everything, it seems. Unless you're drinking Austershalin brandy.\"\n\n\"Auffershallow?\"\n\n\"Austershalin. From Emberlain. Among its many other virtues, it doesn't cause a hangover. Some sort of alchemical component in the vineyard soil. Expensive stuff.\"\n\nFalselight came after many hours of half-sleep, and Locke found himself able to walk once again, though the brain within his skull felt like it was attempting to dig a hole down through his neck and escape. Chains insisted that they would still be visiting Capa Barsavi (\"The only people who break appointments with him are the ones that live in glass towers and have their pictures on coins, and even they think twice\"), though he consented to allow Locke a more comfortable means of transportation.\n\nIt turned out that the House of Perelandro had a small stable tucked around the back, and in this smelly little stall there lived a Gentled goat. \"He's got no name,\" Chains said as he set Locke atop the creature's back. \"I just couldn't bring myself to give him one, since he wouldn't answer to it anyway.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke had never developed the instinctive revulsion most boys and girls felt for Gentled animals; he'd already seen too much ugliness in his life to care about the occasional empty stare from a docile, milky-eyed creature.\n\nThere is a substance called Wraithstone, a chalky white material found in certain remote mountain caverns. The stuff doesn't occur naturally; it is found only in conjunction with glass-lined tunnels presumably abandoned by the Eldren-the same unsettling race that built Camorr, ages past. In its solid state, Wraithstone is tasteless, nearly odorless, and inert. It must be burned to activate its unique properties.\n\nPhysikers have begun to identify the various means and channels by which poisons attack the bodies of the living; this one stills the heart, while this one thins the blood, and still others damage the stomach or the intestines. Wraithstone smoke poisons nothing physical; what it does is burnout personality itself. Ambition, stubbornness, pluck, spirit, drive-all of these things fade with just a few breaths of the arcane haze. Accidental exposure to small amounts can leave a man listless for weeks; anything more than that and the effect will be permanent. Victims remain alive but entirely unconcerned by anything. They don't respond to their names, or to their friends, or to mortal danger. They can be prodded into eating or excreting or carrying something, and little else. The pale white sheen that fills their eyes is an outward expression of the emptiness that takes hold in their hearts and minds.\n\nOnce, in the time of the Therin Throne, the process was used to punish criminals, but it has been centuries since any civilized Therin city-state allowed the use of Wraithstone on men and women. A society that still hangs children for petty theft and feeds prisoners to sea-creatures finds the results too disquieting to bear." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gentling, therefore, is reserved for animals-mostly beasts of burden intended for urban service. The cramped confines of a hazard-rich city like Camorr are ideally suited to the process. Gentled ponies maybe trusted never to throw the children of the wealthy. Gentled horses and mules maybe trusted never to kick their handlers or dump expensive cargoes into a canal. A burlap sack with a bit of the white stone and a slow-smoldering match is placed over an animal's muzzle, and the human handlers retreat to fresh air. A few minutes later the creature's eyes are the color of new milk, and it will never do anything on its own initiative again.\n\nBut Locke had a throbbing headache, and he was just getting used to the idea that he was a murderer and a resident of a private glass fairyland, and the eerily mechanical behavior of his goat didn't bother him at all.\n\n\"This temple will be exactly where I left it when I return later this evening,\" said Father Chains as he finished dressing for his venture outside; the Eyeless Priest had vanished entirely, to be replaced by a hale man of middle years and moderate means. His beard and his hair had been touched up with some sort of brown dye; his vest and cheap cotton-lined half-cloak hung loosely over a cream-colored shirt with no ties or cravats.\n\n\"Exactly where you left it,\" said one of the Sanzas.\n\n\"And not burned down or anything,\" said the other.\n\n\"If you boys can burn down stone and Elderglass, the gods have higher aspirations for you than a place as my apprentices. Do behave. I'm taking Locke to get his, ahh...\"\n\nChains glanced sideways at the Lamora boy. He then mimed taking a drink, and held his jaw afterward as though in pain." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh,\" said Calo and Galdo in pitch-perfect unison.\n\n\"Indeed.\" Chains settled a little round leather capon his head and took the reins of Locke's goat. \"Wait up for us. This should be interesting, to say the least.\"\n\n\"THIS CAPA Barsavi,\" Locke said as Chains led the nameless goat across one of the narrow glass arches between the Fauria and Coin-Kisser's Row, \"my old master told me about him, I think.\"\n\n\"You're quite right. That time you got the Elderglass Vine burned down, I believe.\"\n\n\"Ah. You know about that.\"\n\n\"Well, once your old master started telling me about you, he just sort of... didn't shut up for several hours.\"\n\n\"If I'm your pezon, are you Barsavi's pezon?\"\n\n\"That's a plain, neat description of our relationship, yes. All the Right People are Barsavi's soldiers. His eyes, his ears, his agents, his subjects. His pezon. Barsavi is... a particular sort of friend. I did somethings for him, back when he was coming to power. We rose together, you might say-I got special consideration and he got the, ah, entire city.\"\n\n\"Special consideration?\"\n\nIt was as pleasant a night fora stroll as Camorr ever produced during the summer. A hard rain had fallen not an hour before, and the fresh mist that spread its tendrils around buildings like the grasping hands of spectral giants was slightly cooler than usual, and its odor wasn't yet saturated with the redolence of silt and dead fish and human waste. Other people were few and far between on Coin-Kisser's Row after Falselight, so Locke and Chains spoke fairly freely." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I've got the distance. Which means-well, there area hundred gangs in Camorr, Locke. A hundred and more. Certainly I can't remember them all. Some of them are too new or too unruly for Capa Barsavi to trust them as well as he might. So he keeps a close eye on them-insists on frequent reports, plants men in them, reins their actions in tightly. Those of us that don't suffer such scrutiny\"-Chains pointed to himself, then to Locke-\"are sort of presumed to be doing things honestly until proven otherwise. We follow his rules and pay him a cut of our take, and he thinks he can more or less trust us to get it right. No audits, no spies, no bullshit.\"The distance. \"It's a privilege worth paying for.\"\n\nChains stuck a hand in one of his cloak pockets; there was the pleasing jingle of coins. \"I've got a little show of respect for him right here, in fact. Two-tenths of this week's take from the charity kettle of Perelandro.\"\n\n\"More than a hundred gangs, you said?\"\n\n\"This city has more gangs than it has foul odors, boy. Some of them are older than many families on the Alcegrante, and some of them have stricter rituals than some of the priestly orders. Hell, atone point there were nearly thirty capas, and each one had four or five gangs under his thumb.\"\n\n\"Thirty capas? All like Capa Barsavi?\"\n\n\"Yes and no. Yes, that they ran gangs and gave orders and cut men open from cock to eyeballs when they got angry; no, that they were anything like Barsavi otherwise. Five years ago, there were the thirty bosses I talked about. Thirty little kingdoms, all fighting and thieving and spilling each other's guts in the street. All at war with the yellowjackets, who used to kill twenty men a week. In slow weeks." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Then Capa Barsavi walked in from Tal Verrar. Used to be a scholar at the Therin Collegium, if you can believe it. Taught rhetoric. He got a few gangs under his thumb and he started cutting. Not like aback-alley slasher, but more like a physiker cutting out a chancre. When Barsavi took out another capa, he took their gangs, too. But he didn't lean on them if he didn't have to. He gave them full territories and let them choose their own garristas, and he cut them in on his take.\n\n\"So-five years ago, there were thirty. Four years ago, there were ten. Three years ago, there was one. Capa Barsavi and his hundred gangs. The whole city-all the Right People, present company included-in his pocket. No more open war across the bloody canals. No more platoons of thieves getting strung up all at once at the Palace of Patience. Nowadays they have to do them two or three at a time.\"\n\n\"Because of the Secret Peace? The one I broke?\"\n\n\"The one you broke, yes. Good guess, presuming I'd know about that. Yes, my boy, it's the key to Barsavi's peculiar success. What it comes down to is, he has a standing agreement with the duke, handled through one of the duke's agents. The gangs of Camorr don't touch the nobles; we don't lay a finger on ships or drays or crates that have a legitimate coat of arms on them. In exchange, Barsavi is the actual ruler of a few of the city's more charming points. Catchfire, the Narrows, the Dregs, the Wooden Waste, the Snare, and parts of the docks. Plus the city watch is much more... relaxed than they ought to be.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So we can rob anyone who isn't a noble?\"\n\n\"Ora yellowjacket, yes. We can have the merchants and the money-changers and the incoming and the outgoing. There's more money passing through Camorr than any other city on this coast, boy. Hundreds of ships a week; thousands of sailors and officers. We don't have any problem laying off the nobility.\"\n\n\"Doesn't that make the merchants and the money-changers and the other people angry?\"\n\n\"It might if they knew about it. That's why there's that word \"Secret\" in front of \"Peace.\" And that's why Camorr's such a lovely, fine, safe place to live. You really only need to worry about losing your money if you don't have much of it in the first place.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Locke, fingering his little shark's-tooth necklace. \"Okay. But now I wonder... You said my old master bought and paid for, um, killing me. Will you get in trouble with Barsavi for not... killing me?\"\n\nChains laughed. \"Why would I betaking you to see him if that'd get me in trouble, boy? No, the death-mark's mine to use, or not, as I see fit. I bought it. Don't you see? He doesn't care if we actually use 'em, only that we acknowledge that the power of granting life or death is his. Sort of like a tax only he can collect. You see?\"\n\nLocke nodded, then allowed himself to be trundled along silently fora few minutes, absorbing all of this. His aching head made the scale of what was going on a bit difficult to grasp.\n\n\"Let me tell you a story,\" said Father Chains after awhile. \" A story that will let you know just what sort of man you're going to meet and swear fealty to this evening. Once upon a time, when Capa Barsavi's hold on the city was very new and very delicate, it was an open secret that a pack of his garristas was plotting to get rid of him just as soon as the chance presented itself. And they were very alert for his countermoves, see; they'd helped him takeover the city, and they knew how he worked." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So they made sure he couldn't get all of them at once; if he tried to cut some throats the gangs would scatter and warn each other and it'd be a bloody mess, another long war. He made no open moves. And the rumors of their disloyalty got worse.\n\n\"Capa Barsavi would receive visitors in his hall-it's still out therein the Wooden Waste; it used to be a big Verrari hulk, one of those fat wide galleons they used for hauling troops. It's just anchored there now, a sort of makeshift palace. He calls it the Floating Grave. Well, at the Floating Grave, he made a big show of putting down this one large carpet from Ashmere; a really lovely thing, the sort of cloth the duke would hang on a wall for safekeeping. And he made sure that everyone around him knew how much he liked that carpet.\n\n\"It got so that his court could tell what he was going to do to a visitor by watching that carpet; if there was going to be blood, that carpet would be rolled up and packed away safe. Without exception. Months went by. Carpet up, carpet down. Sometimes men who got called to see him would try to run the moment they saw bare floor beneath his feet, which of course was as good as admitting wrongdoing out loud.\n\n\"Anyhow. Back to his problem garristas. Not one of them was stupid enough to enter the Floating Grave without a gang at their back, or to be caught alone with Barsavi. His rule was still too uncertain at this point for him to just throw a tantrum about it. So he waited... and then one night he invited nine of his troublesome garristas to dinner. Not all the troublemakers, of course, but the cleverest, and the toughest, and the ones with the biggest gangs. And their spies brought back word that that lovely embroidered carpet, the capa's prize possession, was rolled out on the floor for everyone to see, with a banquet table on top of it and more food than the gods themselves had ever seen." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So those stupid bastards, they figured Barsavi was serious, that he really wanted to talk. They thought he was scared, and they expected negotiations in good faith; so they didn't bring their gangs or make alternate plans. They thought they'd won.\n\n\"You can imagine,\" said Chains, \"just how surprised they were when they sat down at their chairs on that beautiful carpet, and fifty of Barsavi's men piled into the room with crossbows, and shot those poor idiots so full of bolts that a porcupine in heat would have taken anyone of them home and fucked him. If there was a drop of blood that wasn't on the carpet, it was on the ceiling. You get my meaning?\"\n\n\"So the carpet was ruined?\"\n\n\"And then some. Barsavi knew how to create expectations, Locke, and how to use those expectations to mislead those who would harm him. They figured his strange obsession was a guarantee of their lives. Turns out there are just some enemies numerous enough and powerful enough to be worth losing a damn carpet over.\"\n\nChains pointed ahead of them and to the south.\n\n\"That's the man waiting to talk to you about half a mile that way. I would strongly recommend cultivating a civil tongue.\"\n\nTHE LAST Mistake was a place where the underworld of Camorr bubbled to the surface; a flat-out crook's tavern, where Right People of every sort could drink and speak freely of their business, where respectable citizens stood out like serpents in a nursery and were quickly escorted out the door by mean-looking, thick-armed men with very small imaginations.\n\nHere entire gangs would come to drink and arrange jobs and just show themselves off. In their cups, men would argue loudly about the best way to strangle someone from behind, and the best sorts of poisons to use in wine or food. They would openly proclaim the folly of the duke's court, or his taxation schemes, or his diplomatic arrangements with the other cities of the Iron Sea. They would refight entire battles with dice and fragments of chicken bones as their armies, loudly announcing how they would have turned left when Duke Nicovante had gone right, how they would have stood fast when the five thousand blackened iron spears of the Mad Count's Rebellion had come surging down Godsgate Hill toward them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But not one of them, no matter how far doused in liquor or Gaze or the strange narcotic powders of Jerem-no matter what feats of generalship or statecraft he credited himself with the foresight to bring off-would dare suggest to Capa Vencarlo Barsavi that he should ever change so much as a single button on his waistcoat.\n\nTHE BROKEN Tower is a landmark of Camorr, jutting ninety feet skyward at the very northern tip of the Snare-that low and crowded district where sailors from a hundred ports of call are passed from bar to alehouse to gaming den and back again on a nightly basis. They are shaken through a sieve of tavern-keepers, whores, muggers, dicers, cobble-cogs, and other low tricksters until their pockets areas empty as their heads are heavy, and they can be dumped on ship to nurse their new hangovers and diseases. They come in like the tide and go out like the tide, leaving nothing but a residue of copper and silver (and occasionally blood) to mark their passing.\n\nAlthough human arts are inadequate to the task of cracking Elderglass, the Broken Tower was found in its current state when humans first settled Camorr, stealing in among the ruins of an older civilization. Great gashes mar the alien glass and stone of the tower's upper stories; these discontinuities have been somewhat covered over with wood and paint and other human materials. The sturdiness of the whole affair is hardly in question, but the repairs are not beautiful, and the rooms for let on the upper six floors are some of the least desirable in the city, as they are accessible only by rank upon rank of narrow, twisting exterior stairs-a spindly wooden frame that sways nauseatingly in high winds. Most of the residents are young bravos from various gangs, to whom the insane accommodations area strange badge of honor." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Last Mistake fills the first floor at the wide base of the Broken Tower, and after the fall of Falselight, it rarely has less than a hundred patrons in it at any given time." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke clung tightly to the back of Father Chains'half-cloak as the older man elbowed his way past the crowd at the door. The outward exhalation of the bar's air was full of smells Locke knew quite well: a hundred kinds of liquors and the breath of the men and women drinking them, sweat both stale and fresh, piss and vomit, spiced pomanders and wet wool, the sharp bite of ginger and the acrid fog of tobacco.\n\n\"Can we trust that boy to watch our goat?\" Locke cried above the din.\n\n\"Of course, of course.\" Chains made some elaborate hand sign in greeting to a group of men arm-wrestling just inside the bar's main room; those not locked in bitter struggles grinned and waved back. \"First, it's his job. Second, I paid well. Third, only a crazy person would want to steal a Gentled goat.\"\n\nThe Last Mistake was a sort of monument to the failure of human artifice at critical moments. Its walls were covered in a bewildering variety of souvenirs, each one telling a visual tale that ended with the phrase'not quite good enough.\" Above the bar was a full suit of armor, a square hole punched through at the left breast by a crossbow quarrel. Broken swords and split helmets covered the walls, along with fragments of oars, masts, spars, and tatters of sails. One of the bar's proudest claims was that it had secured a memento of every ship that had foundered within sight of Camorr in the past seventy years.\n\nInto this mess Father Chains dragged Locke Lamora, like a launch being towed at the stern of a huge galleon. On the south wall of the bar was an elevated alcove, given privacy by rows of partially drawn curtains. Men and women stood at attention here, their hard eyes constantly sweeping across the crowd, their hands never far from the weapons they carried openly and ostentatiously-daggers, darts, brass and wooden clubs, short swords, hatchets, and even crossbows, ranging from slender alley-pieces to big horse-murderers that looked (to Locke's wide eyes) as though they could knock holes in stone." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One of these guards stopped Father Chains, and the two exchanged a few whispered words; another guard was dispatched into the curtained alcove while the first eyed Chains warily. A few moments later the second guard reappeared and beckoned; thus it was that Locke was led for the first time into the presence of Vencarlo Barsavi, Capa of Camorr, who satin a plain chair beside a plain table. Several minions stood against the wall behind him, close enough to respond to a summons but far enough to be out of earshot for quiet conversation.\n\nBarsavi was a big man, as wide as Chains but obviously a bit younger. His oiled black hair was pulled tight behind his neck, and his beards curved off his chin like three braided whipcords of hair, one atop the other, neatly layered. These beards flew about when Barsavi turned his round head, and they looked quite thick enough to sting if they struck bare skin.\n\nBarsavi was dressed in a coat, vest, breeches, and boots of some odd dark leather that seemed unusually thick and stiff even to Locke's untrained eyes; after a moment, the boy realized it must be shark hide. The strangely uneven white buttons that dotted his vest and his cuffs and held his layered red silk cravats in place... they were human teeth.\n\nSitting on Barsavi's lap, staring intently at Locke, was a girl about his own age, with short tangled dark hair and a heart-shaped face. She, too, wore a curious outfit. Her dress was white embroidered silk, fit for any noble's daughter, while the little boots that dangled beneath her hem were black leather, shod with iron, bearing sharpened steel kicking-spikes at the heels and the toes.\n\n\"So this is the boy,\" said Barsavi in a deep, slightly nasal voice with the pleasant hint of a Verrari accent. \"The industrious little boy whoso confounded our dear Thiefmaker.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The very one, Your Honor, now happily confounding myself and my other wards.\" Chains reached behind himself and pushed Locke out from behind his legs. \"May I present Locke Lamora, late of Shades' Hill, now an initiate of Perelandro?\"\n\n\"Or some god, anyway, eh?\" Barsavi chuckled and held out a small wooden box that had been resting on the table near his arm. \"It's always nice to see you when your sight miraculously returns, Chains. Have a smoke. They're Jeremite blackroot, extra fine, just rolled this week.\"\n\n\"I can't say no to that, Ven.\" Chains accepted a tightly rolled sheaf of tobacco in red paper; while the two men bent over a flickering taper to light up (Chains dropped his little bag of coins on the table at the same time), the girl seemed to come to some sort of decision about Locke.\n\n\"He's a very ugly little boy, Father. He looks like a skeleton.\"\n\nCapa Barsavi coughed out his first few puffs of smoke, the corners of his mouth crinkling upward. \"And you're a very inconsiderate little girl, my dear.\" The Capa drew on his sheaf once more and exhaled a straight stream of translucent smoke; the stuff was pleasantly mellow and carried the slightest hint of burnt vanilla. \"You must forgive my daughter Nazca; I am helpless to deny her indulgences, and she has acquired the manners of a pirate princess. Particularly now that we are all afraid to come near her deadly new boots.\"\n\n\"I am never unarmed,\" said the little girl, kicking up her heels a few times to emphasize the point.\n\n\"And poor Locke most certainly is not ugly, my darling; what he bears is clearly the mark of Shades'Hill. A month in Chains\" keeping and he'll be as round and fit as a catapult stone.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hmmph.\" The girl continued to stare down at him fora few seconds, then suddenly looked up at her father, absently toying with one of his braided beards while she did so. \"Are you making him a pezon, Father?\"\n\n\"Chains and I did have that in mind, sweetling, yes.\"\n\n\"Hmmph. Then I want another brandy while you're doing the ceremony.\"\n\nCapa Barsavi's eyes narrowed; seams deepened by habitual suspicion drew in around his flinty gray stare. \"You've already had your two brandies for the night, darling; your mother will murder me if I let you have another. Ask one of the men to get you a beer.\"\n\n\"But I prefer-\"\n\n\"What you prefer, little tyrant, has nothing to do with what I am telling you. For the rest of the night, you can drink beer or air; the choice is entirely yours.\"\n\n\"Hmmph. I'll have beer, then.\" Barsavi reached out to lift her down, but she hopped off his lap just ahead of his thick-fingered, heavily calloused hands. Her heels went clack-clack-clack on the hardwood floor of the alcove as she ran to some minion to give her order.\n\n\"And if just one more of my men gets kicked in the shin, darling, you're going to wear reed sandals fora month, I promise,\" Barsavi shouted after her, then took another drag of tobacco and turned back to Locke and Chains. \"She's a keg of fire-oil, that one. Last week she refused to sleep at all unless we let her keep a little garrote under her pillows. \"Just like Daddy's bodyguards, \"she said. I don't think her brothers yet realize that the next Capa Barsavi might wear summer dresses and bonnets.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I can see why you might have been amused by the Thiefmaker's stories about our boy here,\" Chains said, clasping both of Locke's shoulders as he spoke.\n\n\"Of course. I have become very hard to shock since my children grew above the tops of my knees. But you're not hereto discuss them-you've brought me this little man so he can take his first and last oath as a pezon. A few years early, it seems. Come here, Locke.\"\n\nCapa Barsavi reached outwith his right hand and turned Locke's head slightly upward by the chin, staring down into Locke's eyes as he spoke. \"How old are you, Locke Lamora? Six? Seven? Already responsible fora breach of the Peace, a burnt-down tavern, and six or seven deaths.\" The Capa smirked. \"I have assassins five times your age who should be so bold. Has Chains told you the way it is, with my city and my laws?\"\n\nLocke nodded.\n\n\"You know that once you take this oath I can't go easy on you, ever again. You've had your time to be reckless. If Chains needs to put you down, he will. If I tell him to put you down, he will.\"\n\nAgain, Locke nodded. Nazca returned to her father's side, sipping from a tarred leather ale-jack; she stared at Locke over the rim of this drinking vessel, which she had to clutch in both hands.\n\nCapa Barsavi snapped his fingers; one of the toadies in the background vanished through a curtain. \"Then I'm not going to bore you with anymore threats, Locke. This night, you're a man. You will do a man's work and suffer a man's fate if you cross your brothers and sisters. You will be one of us, one of the Right People; you'll receive the words and the signs, and you'll use them discreetly. As Chains, your garrista, is sworn tome, so you are sworn tome, through him. I am your garrista above all garristas. I am the only duke of Camorr you will ever acknowledge. Bend your knee.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Locke knelt before Barsavi; the Capa held out his left hand, palm down." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He wore an ornate ring of black pearl in a white iron setting; nestled inside the pearl by some arcane process was a speck of red that had to be blood.\n\n\"Kiss the ring of the Capa of Camorr.\"\n\nLocke did so; the pearl was cool beneath his dry lips.\n\n\"Speak the name of the man to whom you have sworn your oath.\"\n\n\"Capa Barsavi,\" Locke whispered. At that moment, the capa's underling returned to the alcove and handed his master a small crystal tumbler filled with dull brown liquid.\n\n\"Now,\" said Barsavi, \"as has everyone of my pezon, you will drink my toast.\" From one of the pockets of his waistcoat the capa drew a shark's tooth, one slightly larger than the death-mark Locke wore around his neck. Barsavi dropped the tooth into the tumbler and swirled it around a few times. He then handed the tumbler to Locke. \"It's dark-sugar rum from the Sea of Brass. Drink the entire thing, including the tooth. But don't swallow the tooth, whatever you do. Keep it in your mouth. Draw it out after all the liquor is gone. And try not to cut yourself.\"\n\nLocke's nose smarted from the stinging aroma of hard liquor that wafted from the tumbler, and his stomach lurched, but he ground his jaws together and stared down at the slightly distorted shape of the tooth within the rum. Silently praying to his new Benefactor to save him from embarrassment, he dashed the contents of the glass into his mouth, tooth and all.\n\nSwallowing was not as easy as he'd hoped-he held the tooth against the roof of his mouth with his tongue, gingerly, feeling its sharp points scrape against the back of his upper front teeth. The liquor burned; he began to swallow in small gulps that soon turned into wheezing coughs. After a few interminable seconds, he shuddered and sucked down the last of the rum, relieved that he had held the tooth carefully in place-" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It twisted in his mouth. Twisted, physically, as though wrenched by an unseen hand, and scored a burning slash across the inside of his left cheek. Locke cried out, coughed, and spat up the tooth-it lay therein his open palm, flecked with spit and blood.\n\n\"Ahhhhh,\" said Capa Barsavi as he plucked the tooth up and slipped it back into his waistcoat, blood and all. \"So you see-you are bound by an oath of blood to my service. My tooth has tasted of your life, and your life is mine. So let us not be strangers, Locke Lamora. Let us be capa and pezon, as the Crooked Warden intended.\"\n\nAt a gesture from Barsavi Locke stumbled to his feet, already inwardly cursing the now-familiar sensation of liquor rapidly going to his head. His stomach was empty from the day's hangover; the room was already swaying a bit around him. When he set eyes on Nazca once again, he saw that she was smiling at him above her ale-jack, with the air of smarmy tolerance the older children in Shades\" Hill had once shown to him and his compatriots in Streets.\n\nBefore he knew what he was doing, Locke bent his knee to her as well.\n\n\"If you're the next Capa Barsavi,\" he said rapidly, \"I should swear to serve you, too. I do. Madam. Madam Nazca. I mean... Madam Barsavi.\"\n\nThe girl took a step back. \"I already have servants, boy. I have assassins. My father has a hundred gangs and two thousand knives!\"\n\n\"Nazca Belonna Jenavais Angeliza de Barsavi!\" her father thundered. \"Now it seems you only grasp the value of strongmen as servants. In time, you will come to seethe value of gracious ones as well. You shame me.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nonplussed, the girl glanced back and forth between Locke and her father several times. Her cheeks slowly turned red. After a few more moments of pouting consideration, she stiffly held out her ale-jack to Locke.\n\n\"You may have some of my beer.\"\n\nLocke responded as though this were the deepest honor ever conferred upon him, realizing (though hardly in so many words) all the while that the liquor was somehow running a sort of rump parliament in his brain that had overruled his usual cautious social interactions-especially with girls. Her beer was bitter dark stuff, slightly salted-she drank like a Verrari. Locke took two sips to be polite, then handed it back to her, bowing in a rather noodle-necked fashion as he did so. She was too flustered to say anything in return, so she merely nodded.\n\n\"Ha! Excellent!\" Capa Barsavi chomped on his slender cigar in mirth. \"Your first pezon! Of course, both of your brothers are going to want some just as soon as they hear about this.\"\n\nTHE TRIP home was a muggy, misty blur to Locke; he clung to the neck of his Gentled goat while Chains led them back north toward the Temple District, frequently cackling to himself.\n\n\"Oh, my boy,\" he muttered. \"My dear, dear charming sot of a boy. It was all bullshit, you realize.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"The shark's tooth. Capa Barsavi had a Bondsmage enchant that thing for him in Karthain years ago. Nobody can swallow it without cutting themselves. He's been carrying it around ever since; all those years he spent studying Throne Therin theater have given him a substantial fetish for the dramatic.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So it wasn't... like, fate, or the gods, or anything like that?\"\n\n\"It was just a shark's tooth with a tiny bit of sorcery. A good trick, I have to admit.\" Chains rubbed his own cheek in sympathy and remembrance. \"No, Locke, you don't belong to Barsavi. He's good enough for what he is-a powerful ally to have on your side, and a man that you must appear to obey at all times. But he certainly doesn't own you. In the end, neither do I.\"\n\n\"So I don't have to...\"\n\n\"Obey the Secret Peace? Be a good little pezon? Only for pretend, Locke. Only to keep the wolves from the door. Unless your eyes and ears have been stitched shut with rawhide these past two days, by now you must have realized that I intend you and Calo and Galdo and Sabetha to be nothing less,\" Chains confided through a feral grin, \"than a fucking ballista bolt right through the heart of Vencarlo's precious Secret Peace.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"NINETEEN THOUSAND,\" SAID Bug, \"nine hundred and twenty. That's all of it. Can I please kill myself now?\"\n\n\"What? I'd have thought you'd be enthusiastic about helping us tally the loot, Bug.\" Jean sat cross-legged in the middle of the dining area in the glass cellar beneath the House of Perelandro; the table and chairs had been moved away to make room fora vast quantity of gold coins, stacked into little glittering mounds that circled Jean and Bug, nearly walling them incompletely.\n\n\"You didn't tell me you'd be hauling it home in tyrins.\"\n\n\"Well, white iron is dear. Nobody's going to handout five thousand crowns in it, and nobody's going to be dumb enough to carry it around like that. Meraggio's makes all of its big payouts in tyrins.\"\n\nThere was a rattling noise from the entrance passage to the cellar; then Locke appeared around the corner, dressed as Lukas Fehrwight. He whipped his false optics off, loosened his cravats, and shrugged out of his wool coat, letting it fall unceremoniously to the floor. His face was flushed, and he was waving apiece of folded parchment affixed with a blue wax seal.\n\n\"Seventy-five hundred more, my boys! I told him we'd found four likely galleons, but that we were already having cash flow problems-bribes to be paid, crews to be called back and sobered up, officers to be placated, other cargo-shippers to be chased off... And he just handed it right over, smiling all the while. Gods. I should've thought this scam up five years ago. We don't even have to bother setting up fake ships and paperwork and so forth, because Salvara knows the Fehrwight part of the game is a lie. There's nothing for us to do except relax and count the money.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Continue the story as the author's writing assistant.\nTags: fantasy, heist, crime\nAuthor: Scott Lynch\nTitle: The Lies of Locke Lamora\nChapter: 19" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The woundman, stashed in the little dry room at the top of the staircase, was a padded leather dummy in the shape of a man's head, torso, and arms, standing upon an iron pole." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Bearing this awkwardly over his right shoulder, Jean stepped back out in the driving rain and returned to the center of the Garden Without Fragrance. The woundman scraped the glass walls several times, but the roses had no taste for empty leather flesh.\n\nDon Maranzalla had opened the wooden chest and was rummaging around in it; Jean set the woundman up in the center of the courtyard. The metal rod slid into a hole bored down through the stone and locked therewith a twist, briefly pushing up a little fountain of water.\n\n\"Here's something ugly,\" said the don, swinging a four-foot length of chain wrapped in very fine leather-likely kid. \"It's called a bailiff's lash; wrapped up so it doesn't rattle. If you look close, it's got little hooks at either end, so you can hitch it around your waist like a belt. Easy to conceal under heavier clothes... though you might eventually need one a bit longer, to fit around yourself.\" The don stepped forward confidently and let one end of the padded chain whip toward the woundman's head; it rebounded off the leather with aloud, wet whack.\n\nJean amused himself fora few minutes by laying into the woundman while Don Maranzalla watched. Mumbling to himself, the don then took the padded chain away and offered Jean a pair of matched blades. They were about afoot long, one-sided, with broad and curving cutting edges. The hilts were attached to heavy handguards, which were studded with small brass spikes.\n\n\"Nasty little bitches, these things. Generally known as thieves'teeth. No subtlety to them; you can stab, hack, or just plain punch. Those little brass nubs can scrape a man's face off, and those guards'll stop most anything short of a charging bull. Have at it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Jean's showing with the blades was even better than his outing with the lash; Maranzalla clapped approvingly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That's right, up through the stomach, under the ribs. Put afoot of steel there and tickle a man's heart with it, and you've just won the argument, son.\"\n\nAshe took the matched blades back from Jean, he chuckled. \"How's that for teeth lessons, eh, boy? Eh?\"\n\nJean stared at him, puzzled.\n\n\"Haven't you ever heard that one before? Your Capa Barsavi, he's not from Camorr, originally. Taught at the Therin Collegium. So, when he drags someone in fora talking-to, that's\"etiquette lessons. \"And when he ties them up and makes them talk, that's \"singing lessons.\" And when he cuts their throats and throws them in the bay for the sharks...\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Jean, \"I guess that'd be teeth lessons. I get it.\"\n\n\"Right. I didn't make that one up, mind you. That's your kind. I'd lay odds the big man knows about it, but nobody says anything like that to his face. That's how it always is, be it cutthroats or soldiers. So... next lovely toy...\"\n\nMaranzalla handed Jean a pair of wooden-handled hatchets; these had curved metal blades on one side and round counterweights on the other.\n\n\"No fancy name for these skull-crackers. I wager you've seen a hatchet before. Your choice to use the blade or the ball; it's possible to avoid killing a man with the ball, but if you hit hard enough it's just as bad as the blade, so judge carefully when you're not attacking a woundman.\"\n\nAlmost immediately, Jean realized that he liked the feel of the hatchets in his hands. They were long enough to be more than a pocket weapon, like the gimp steel or the blackjacks most Right People carried as a matter of habit, yet they were small enough to move swiftly and use in tight spaces, and it seemed to him they could hide themselves rather neatly under a coat or vest." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He crouched; the knife-fighter's crouch seemed natural with these things in his hands. Springing forward, he chopped at the woundman from both sides at once, embedding the hatchet blades in the dummy's ribs. With an overhand slash to the woundman's right arm, he made the whole thing shudder. He followed that cut with a backhanded stroke against the head, using a ball rather than a blade. For several minutes, he chopped and slashed at the woundman, his arms pistoning, a smile growing on his face.\n\n\"Hmmm. Not bad,\" said Don Maranzalla. \"Not bad at all fora total novice, I'll grant you that. You seem very comfortable with them.\"\n\nOn a whim, Jean turned and ran to one side of the courtyard, putting fifteen feet between himself and the woundman. The driving rain thrust fingers of gray down between him and the target, so he concentrated very hard-and then he lined up and threw, whipping one hatchet through the air with the full twisting force of his arm, hips, and upper body. The hatchet sank home, blade flat-on, in the woundman's head, where it held fast in the layers of leather without so much as a quiver.\n\n\"Oh, my,\" said Don Maranzalla. Lightning roiled the heavens yet again, and thunder echoed across the rooftop. \"My, yes. Now there's a foundation we can build upon.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "IN THE DARKNESS beneath the Echo Hole, Jean Tannen was moving even before the cask came crashing down into the black water, lit faintly from above by the red glow of Barsavi's torches.\n\nBeneath the ancient stone cube, there was a network of hanging rafters, built from black witchwood and lashed with Elderglass cords. The rafters were slimy with age and unmentionable growths, but they had surely held as long as the stones above had, and they retained their strength.\n\nThe waterfall that cascaded in from the roof terminated herein one of the swirling channels beneath the rafters. There was a veritable maze of the things; some were as smooth as glass, while others were as turbulent as whitewater rapids. A few wheels and even stranger devices turned slowly in the corners of the under-rafters. Jean had briefly appraised them by the light of a tiny alchemical ball when he'd settled himself in fora long wait. Bug, understandably unwilling to move too far from Jean's company, had crouched on a rafter of his own about twenty feet to Jean's left.\n\nThere were little shafts in the stone floor of the Echo Hole, square cuts about two inches wide, irregularly spaced and serving some unguessable function. Jean had positioned himself between one of these, knowing that it would be impossible to hear any of the activities above with the noise of the waterfall right in his ear.\n\nHis understanding of the situation above was imperfect-but as the long minutes rolled by, and the red light grew, and Capa Barsavi and Locke began speaking to one another, Jean's uneasiness deepened into dread. There was shouting, cursing, the trample of booted feet on stone-cheers. Locke was taken. Where was the gods-damned Bondsmage?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean scuttled along his rafter, looking for the best way to cross to the waterfall. It would be a good five or six feet up from the rafters to the lip of the stone gash through which the waterfall poured, but if he stayed out of the falling water he could make it. Besides, it was the quickest way up-the only way up from within here. In the thin red light pouring down through the little holes in the floor, Jean signaled for Bug to stay put.\n\nThere was another outburst of cheering above, and then the capa's voice, loud and clear through one of the peepholes: \"Take this bastard and send him out to sea.\"\n\nSend him out to sea? Jean's heart pounded. Had they already cut Locke's throat? His eyes stung at the thought that the next thing he'd see was a limp body falling in the white stream of gushing water, a limp body dressed all in gray.\n\nThen came the cask, a heavy dark object that plunged into the black canal at the base of the waterfall with aloud splash and a geyser of water. Jean blinked twice before he realized what he'd just seen. \"Oh, gods,\" he muttered. \"Like for like! Barsavi had to be fucking poetic!\"\n\nOverhead there was more cheering, more stomping of feet. Barsavi was yelling something; his men were yelling in response. Then the faint lines of red light began to flicker; shadows passed before them, and they began to recede in the direction of the street door. Barsavi was moving, so Jean decided to take a risk.\n\nThere was another splash, audible even over the hiss and rumble of the waterfall. What the hell was that? Jean reached beneath his vest, drew out his light-globe, and shook it. A faint white star blossomed in the darkness. Clinging tightly to the wet rafter with his other hand, Jean tossed the globe down toward the channel in which the cask would have fallen, about forty feet to his right. It hit the water and settled, giving Jean enough light to discern the situation." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The little channel was about eight feet wide, stone-bordered, and the cask was bobbing heavily in it, three-quarters submerged.\n\nBug was thrashing about in that canal, visible only from the arms up. Jean's light-globe had struck the water about three feet to the right of his head; Bug had jumped down into the water on his own.\n\nDamn, but the boy seemed to be constitutionally incapable of remaining in high places for any length of time.\n\nJean looked around frantically; it would take him a few moments to work his way over to a point where he could splashdown into the right channel without cracking his legs against one of the stone dividers.\n\n\"Bug,\" Jean cried, judging that the ruckus above would cover his own voice. \"Your light! Slip it out, now! Locke's in that cask!\"\n\nBug fumbled within his tunic, drew out a globe, and shook it. By the sudden flare of added white light Jean could clearly seethe outline of the bobbing black cask. He judged the distance between himself and it, came to a decision, and reached for one of his hatchets with his freehand.\n\n\"Bug,\" he yelled, \"don't try to get through the sides. Attack the flattop of the cask!\"\n\n\"How?\"\n\n\"Stay right where you are.\" Jean leaned to his right, clinging to the rafter with his left arm. He raised the hatchet in his right hand, whispered a single'please\" to whatever gods were listening, and let fly. The hatchet struck, quivering, in the dark wood of the cask; Bug flinched back, then splashed through the water to pry at the weapon.\n\nJean began sliding his bulk along the rafter, but more dark motion in the corner of his eye brought him up short. He peered down into the shadows on his left. Something was moving across the surface of one of the other waterways in the damned maze. Several somethings-black scuttling shapes the size of dogs. Their bristling legs spread wide when they slipped just beneath the surface of the dark water, then drew into propel them up and over stone just as easily..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Fuck me,\" he muttered. \"Fuck me, that's not possible.\"\n\nSalt devils, despite their horrific size and aspect, were timid creatures. The huge spiders crouched in crevices on the rocky coasts to the southwest of Camorr, preying on fish and gulls, occasionally falling prey to sharks or devilfish if they ventured too far from shore. Sailors flung stones and arrows at them with superstitious dread.\n\nOnly a fool would approach one, with their fangs the length of a grown man's fingers and their venom, which might not always bring death but could make a man fervently pray for it. Yet salt devils were quite content to flee from humans; they were ambush hunters, solitary, incapable of tolerating one another at close quarters. Jean had scared himself witless in his early years reading the observations of scholars and naturalists concerning the creatures.\n\nYet here was an entire pack of the damn things, leg to leg like hounds, scrabbling across stone and water alike toward Bug and the cask.\n\n\"Bug,\" Jean screamed. \"Bug!\"\n\nBUG HAD heard even less of the goings-on upstairs than Jean, yet when the cask had splashed down into darkness, he'd realized immediately that it hadn't been dropped down idly. Having placed himself directly over the canal that flowed from the waterfall, he'd simply let himself drop the fifteen feet down into the rushing water.\n\nHe'd tucked his legs and hit like a catapult stone, ass-first. Although his head had plunged under with the momentum of his drop, he quickly found that he could plant his feet; the canal was only about four feet deep.\n\nNow, with Jean's hatchet gripped in one hand, he chopped frantically at the flat barrel-top before him. He'd set his own light-glass on the stone walkway beside the canal, as there was enough working light coming from Jean's beneath the surface of the water." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Bug,\" the big man yelled, his voice suddenly loud with real alarm. \"Bug!\"\n\nThe boy turned to his right and caught a glimpse of what was moving out of the far shadows toward him. A shudder of pure revulsion passed up and down his spine, and he looked around frantically to make sure the threat was approaching from only one direction.\n\n\"Bug, get out of the water! Getup on the stones!\"\n\n\"What about Locke?\"\n\n\"He doesn't want to come out of that cask right this fucking second,\" Jean hollered. \"Trust me!\"\n\nAs Bug scrambled up out of the rippling, alchemically lit water, the cask began once again bobbing toward the south end of the building, where the canal exited to gods knew where. Too desperate to think clearly about his own safety, Jean scrambled out along the crossbeam, feet sliding in the muck of the ages, and ran in the direction of the waterfall with his arms windmilling crazily for balance. A few seconds later he arrested his forward momentum by wrapping his arms around a vertical beam; his feet slipped briefly out from beneath him, but he clung tightly to his perch. His mad dash had brought him to a point beside the waterfall; now he flung himself forward into the air, carefully drawing his legs into his chest. He hit the water with a splash as great as that caused by the cask and bumped the canal bottom.\n\nHe came up sputtering, second hatchet already in hand. Bug was crouched on the stone lip beside the canal, waving his alchemical globe at the spiders. Jean saw that the salt devils were about fifteen feet away from the boy, across the water and moving more warily, but still approaching. Their carapaces were mottled black and gray; their multiple eyes the color of deepest night, starred with eerie reflections of Bug's light. Their hairy pedipalps waved in the air before their faces, and their hard black fangs twitched." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Four of the damn things." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean heaved his bulk up out of the canal on Bug's side, spitting water. He fancied that he saw some of those inhuman black eyes turn to regard him.\n\n\"Jean,\" Bug moaned. \"Jean, those things look pissed off.\"\n\n\"It's not natural,\" said Jean as he ran to Bug's side; the boy tossed him his other hatchet and he caught it in the air. The spiders had closed to ten feet, just across the water; he and Bug seemed hemmed in by thirty-two unblinking black eyes, thirty-two twitching legs with jagged dark hairs. \"Not natural at all; salt devils don't act like this.\"\n\n\"Oh, good.\" Bug held the alchemical globe out at arm's length as though he could conceal himself entirely behind it. \"You discuss it with them.\"\n\n\"I'm sure we can communicate. I speak fluent hatchet.\"\n\nNo sooner were these words out of Jean's mouth than the spiders moved in eerie unison, forward into the water with four splashes. The cask had now drifted a few feet to Jean and Bug's right; one black shape actually passed beneath it. Multiple blacklegs speared upward out of the water, flailing for purchase; Bug cried out in mingled disgust and horror. Jean lunged forward, striking outwith each hatchet in rapid downward strokes. Two spider limbs opened with stomach-turning cracking noises, spurting dark blue blood. Jean leapt backward.\n\nThe two uninjured spiders pulled themselves up out of the water a few seconds ahead of their wounded brethren and rushed Jean, their barbed feet rasping against the wet stone blocks beneath them. Realizing he would be dangerously overbalanced if he attempted to swing on both at once, Jean opted fora more disgusting plan of action." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Wicked Sister in his right hand arced downward viciously, splitting the rightmost salt devil's head between its symmetrical rows of black eyes." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Its legs spasmed in its death reflex, and Bug actually dropped his alchemical globe, so quickly did he leap backward. Jean used the momentum of his right-hand swing to raise his left leg up off the ground; the left-hand spider reared up with its fangs spread just as he brought his boot heel down on what he supposed was its face. Its eyes cracked like jellied fruit, and Jean shoved downward with all his might, feeling as though he was stomping on a sack of wet leathers.\n\nWarm blood soaked his boot as he pulled it free, and now the wounded spiders were scuttling upright behind their fallen counterparts, hissing and clicking in anger.\n\nOne shoved its way in front of the other and lunged at Jean, legs wide, head up to bare its curving fangs. Jean brought both the Sisters down in a hammer blow, blade sides reversed, smashing the spider's head down into the wet stones and stopping it in its tracks. Ichor spurted; Jean felt it spattering his neck and forehead, and did his best to ignore it.\n\nOne damn monster left. Incensed at the delay they'd caused him, Jean bellowed and leapt into the air. Arms spread, he landed with both of his feet in the middle of the last creature's carapace. It exploded wetly beneath him, folding the flailing legs up at an unnatural angle. They beat their last few pulses of life against his legs as he ground in his heels, growling.\n\n\"Gah!\" cried Bug, who'd gotten a good soaking from something blue and previously circulating through a salt devil; Jean didn't waste a second in tossing the boy one of his gore-soaked Sisters before jumping down into the water once again. The cask had floated about ten feet farther south; Jean splashed frantically toward it and secured it with his left hand. Then he began to piston his right arm up and down, hacking at the wood of the barrel's cover with his hatchet." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Bug,\" he cried, \"kindly make sure there aren't anymore of those damn things creeping upon us!\"\n\nThere was a splash behind Jean as Bug hopped back into the waterway. A few seconds later the boy came up beside the cask and steadied it with his own thin arms. \"None that I can see, Jean. Hurry.\"\n\n\"I am\"-crack, crack, crack-\"fucking hurrying.\" His hatchet blade bit through the wood at last; horse urine poured out into the water and Bug gagged. Working furiously, Jean widened the hole, then managed to pry off the end of the cask entirely. A wave of the foul yellow-slick stuff swept out across his chest. Tossing his hatchet away without a further thought, he reached inside and tugged out the motionless body of Locke Lamora.\n\nJean checked him frantically for cuts, slashes, or raised purple welts; his neck seemed to be quite intact.\n\nJean heaved Locke rather ungently up onto the stone walkway beside the dead spiders, some parts of which were still twitching, then pushed himself up out of the water to crouch beside Locke. He wrenched off Locke's mantle and cloak; Bug appeared at his side just in time to yank them away and toss them in the water. Jean tore open Locke's gray vest and began thumping on his chest.\n\n\"Bug,\" he gasped. \"Bug! Getup here and push his legs in for me. His warm humors are all snuffed out. Let's get a rhythm going and maybe we can rekindle them. Gods, if he lives I swear I'll get ten books on physik and memorize every single one.\"\n\nBug clambered out of the water and began pumping Locke's legs, moving them in and out one at a time, while Jean alternately pressed on Locke's stomach, pounded on his chest, and slapped him on the cheeks. \"Come on, gods damn it,\" Jean muttered. \"Be stubborn, you skinny little-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke's back arched convulsively, and harsh wet coughing noises exploded out of his throat; his hands scrabbled weakly at the stone, and he rolled over onto his left side. Jean sat back and sighed with relief, oblivious to the puddle of spider blood he'd settled into.\n\nLocke vomited into the water, retched and shuddered, then vomited again. Bug knelt beside him, steadying him by the shoulders. For several minutes, Locke lay there shaking, breathing heavily and coughing.\n\n\"Oh, gods,\" he said at last in a small hoarse voice. \"Oh, gods. My eyes. I can barely see. Is that water?\"\n\n\"Yes, running water.\" Jean reached over and took one of Locke's arms.\n\n\"Then get me in there. Thirteen gods, get this foulness off me.\"\n\nLocke rolled into the canal with a splash before Jean or Bug could even move to assist him; he dunked his head beneath the dark stream several times, then began tearing off his remaining clothes, until he was wearing nothing but a white undertunic and his gray breeches.\n\n\"Better?\" asked Jean.\n\n\"I suppose I must be.\" Locke retched again. \"My eyes sting, my nose and throat burn, my chest hurts, I've got a pounding black headache the size of Therim Pel, I got slapped around by the entire Barsavi family, I'm covered in horse piss, and it looks like the Gray King just did something pretty clever at our expense.\" He set his head against the edge of the stone pathway and coughed a few more times. When he raised his head again, he noticed the spider carcasses for the first time and jerked backward. \"Ugh. Gods. Looks like there's things I've missed, too.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Salt devils,\" said Jean." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A whole pack of them, working together. They came onlooking fora fight. Suicidal, like.\"\n\n\"That doesn't make any sense,\" said Locke.\n\n\"One thing could explain it,\" Jean replied.\n\n\"A conspiracy of the gods,\" Locke muttered. \"Oh. Sorcery.\"\n\n\"Yes, that bloody Bondsmage. If he can tame a scorpion hawk, he could-\"\n\n\"But what if it's just this place?\" interrupted Bug. \"You've heard the stories.\"\n\n\"No need to fret about stories,\" said Locke, \"when there's alive mage known to have it in for us. Jean's right. I didn't get stuffed in that barrel as a criticism of my playacting, and those biting bitches weren't here fora rest holiday. You were both meant to be dead as well, or if not dead-\"\n\n\"Scared off,\" said Jean. \"Distracted. The better for you to drown.\"\n\n\"Seems plausible.\" Locke rubbed at his stinging eyes once again. \"Amazing how every time I think my tolerance for this affair has reached a final low, I find something new to hate. Calo and Galdo... we need to get to them.\"\n\n\"They could be in a world of shit,\" agreed Jean.\n\n\"They already are, but we'll face it better once we're back together.\"\n\nLocke attempted to heave himself up out of the water and failed. Jean reached down and pulled him up by the collar of his tunic. Locke nodded his thanks and slowly stood up, shaking. \"I'm afraid my strength seems to have fled. I'm sorry, Jean.\"\n\n\"Don't be. You've taken a hell of a lot of abuse tonight. I'm just pleased we broke you out of that thing before it was too late.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm indebted to the pair of you, believe me. That was... It would have been...\" Locke shuddered and coughed again. \"It was pretty gods-damned awful.\"\n\n\"I can only suppose,\" said Jean. \"Shall we go?\"\n\n\"With all haste. Back out the way you two came in, quietly. Barsavi's crowd may still be in the area. And keep your eyes open for, ah, birds.\"\n\n\"Too right. We came in through a sort of crawlway, western canal-side.\" Jean slapped his forehead and looked around. \"Damn me, I've mislaid the Sisters.\"\n\n\"Never fear,\" said Bug, holding them up. \"I figured you'd want them back, so I kept a watch on them.\"\n\n\"Much obliged, Bug,\" said Jean. \"I'm of a mind to use them on some people before this night is done.\"\n\nRUSTWATER WAS as dead as ever when they snuck out the crawlway and scrabbled up onto the canal bank just to the west of the Echo Hole. Barsavi's procession had vanished. And although the three Gentlemen Bastards crouched low and scanned the occulted sky for any hint of a swooping hawk, they caught not a glimpse.\n\n\"Let's make for Coalsmoke,\" said Locke. \"Past Beggar's Barrow. We can steal a boat and slip home through the culvert.\" The drainage culvert on the south side of the Temple District, just beneath the House of Perelandro, had a concealed slide mechanism within the cage that covered it from the outside. The Gentlemen Bastards could open it at will to come and go quietly.\n\n\"Good idea,\" said Jean. \"I'm not comfortable being about on the streets and bridges.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They crept south, grateful for the low, warm mists that swirled around them. Jean had his hatchets out and was moving his head from side to side, watchful as a cat on a swaying clothesline. He led them over abridge, with Locke constantly stumbling and falling behind, then down the southeastern shore of the Quiet. Here the lightless black heap of Beggar's Barrow loomed in the mists to their left, and the wet stink of pauper's graves filled the air.\n\n\"Not a watchman,\" whispered Locke. \"Not a Shades'Hill boy or girl. Not a soul. Even for this neighborhood, that's damn peculiar.\"\n\n\"Has anything about tonight been right yet?\" Jean set as rapid apace as he could, and they soon crossed another bridge, south into Coalsmoke. Locke labored to keep up, clutching his aching stomach and ribs. Bug brought up their rear, constantly peering over his shoulder.\n\nOn the northeastern edge of Coalsmoke there was a line of weathered docks, sagging stairs, and crumbling stone quays. All the larger, nicer boats and barges were locked and chained, but a few small cockleshells bobbed here and there, secured by nothing more than rope. Ina city full of such little boats, no sane thief would bother stealing one-most of the time.\n\nThey clambered into the first one that chanced to have an oar; Locke collapsed at the stern, while Bug took up the oar and Jean castoff the rope.\n\n\"Thank you, Bug.\" Jean squeezed himself down into the wet bottom of the little wooden craft; all three of them made fora tight fit. \"I'll trade off with you in just a bit.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What, no crack about my moral education?\"\n\n\"Your moral education's over.\" Jean stared up into the sky as the dockside receded and Bug took them out into the canal's heart. \"Now you're going to learn a thing or two about war.\"\n\nUNSEEN AND undisturbed, Jean quietly paddled them up against the north bank of the canal just south of their temple. The House of Perelandro was nothing more than a dark impression of mass, lightless in the silver fog above their heads.\n\n\"Smartly, smartly,\" the big man muttered to himself as he brought them abreast with the drainage culvert; it was about a yard up from the water, with an opening five feet in diameter. It led more or less directly to a concealed passage just behind the ladder that led down from the temple itself. Bug slipped a hand past the iron bars at the end of the culvert and tripped the hidden locking mechanism. He then prepared to climb in.\n\n\"I'll go first,\" he said, just before Jean grabbed him by the collar.\n\n\"I think not. The Wicked Sisters will go first. You sit down and keep the boat steady.\"\n\nBug did so, pouting, and Locke smiled. Jean pulled himself up into the culvert and began crawling into the darkness.\n\n\"You can have the honor of going second, Bug,\" said Locke. \"I might need a hand pulling me up.\"\n\nWhen all three of them were wedged safely into the pipe, Locke turned and nudged the little boat back out into midcanal with his feet. The current would carry it to the Via Camorrazza, lost in the mists, until someone ran into it with a larger boat or claimed it as a windfall. Locke then slid the pipe cover closed and locked it once again. The Gentlemen Bastards actually oiled the hinges on the grate to keep their comings and goings quiet." }, { "from": "human", "value": "They crawled forward into blackness, surrounded by the gentle echoes of their own breathing and the soft noise of scuffing cloth." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was a quiet click as Jean operated the hidden entrance into the burrow; then a line of pale silver light spilled in.\n\nJean stepped out onto the wooden floor of the dim passage; just to his right, the rungs ran up into the hidden entrance beneath what had once been Father Chains'sleeping pallet. Despite Jean's best effort to move quietly, the floor creaked slightly as he moved forward. Locke slipped out into the passage behind him, his heart pounding.\n\nThe illumination was too dim. The walls had been golden for as long as he'd known the place.\n\nJean crept forward, hatchets bobbing in his fists. At the far end of the passage, he whirled around the corner, crouched low-and then stood straight up, growling, \"Shit!\"\n\nThe kitchen had been thoroughly trashed.\n\nThe spice cabinets were overturned; broken glass and shattered crockery littered the floor. The storage cupboards hung open, empty; the water barrel had been dumped on the tiles. The gilded chairs were torn apart, thrown into a heap in one corner. The beautiful chandelier that had swung above their heads for as long as any of them had lived within the glass burrow was a total ruin. It dangled now by a few wires, its planets and constellations smashed, its armillary paths bent beyond all possible repair. The sun that had burned at the heart of it all was cracked like an egg; the alchemical oils that had lit it from within had seeped onto the table.\n\nLocke and Jean stood at the edge of the entrance passage, staring in shock. Bug rounded the corner, hot for action against unseen foes, and came up short between them. \"I... gods. Gods.\"\n\n\"Calo?\" Locke abandoned all thoughts of sneaking about. \"Galdo! Calo! Are you here?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean swept aside the heavy curtain to the door that led to the Wardrobe. He didn't say anything or make any noise, but the Wicked Sisters fell out of his hands and clattered against the floor tiles.\n\nThe Wardrobe, too, had been ransacked. All the rows of fine clothing and costume garments, all the hats and cravats and breeches and hose, all the waistcoats and vests and thousands of crowns worth of accessories-all of it was gone. The mirrors were smashed; the Masque Box was overturned, its contents strewn and broken across the floor.\n\nCalo and Galdo lay beside it, on their backs, staring upward in the semidarkness. Their throats were slashed from ear to ear, a pair of smooth gashes-identical twin wounds.\n\nJEAN FELL forward onto his knees.\n\nBug tried to squeeze past Locke, and Locke shoved him back into the kitchen with all the feeble strength he could muster, saying, \"No, Bug, don't...\" But it was already too late. The boy sat down hard against the edge of the witchwood table and broke into sobs.\n\nGods, Locke thought as he stumbled past Jean into the Wardrobe. Gods, I have been a fool. We should have packed up and run.\n\n\"Locke...,\" Jean whispered, and then he sprawled forward onto the ground, shaking and shuddering as though he were having some sort of fit.\n\n\"Jean! Gods, what now?\" Locke crouched beside the bigger man and placed a hand beneath his round, heavy chin. Jean's pulse was pounding wildly. He looked up at Locke with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing, failing to spit out words. Locke's mind raced." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Poison? A trap of some sort? An alchemical trick left behind in the room? Why wasn't he affected? Did he feel so miserable already that the symptoms hadn't caught his attention yet? He glanced frantically around the room, and his eyes seized on a dark object that lay between the sprawled Sanza twins.\n\nA hand-a severed human hand, gray and dried and leathery. It lay with its palm toward the ceiling and its fingers curled tightly inward. A black thread had been used to sew a name into the dead skin of the palm; the script was crude but nonetheless clear, for it was outlined with the faintest hint of pale blue fire:\n\nJEAN TANNEN\n\nThe things I could do to you if I were to stitch your true name. The words of the Falconer returned unbidden to Locke's memory; Jean groaned again, his back arched in pain, and Locke reached down toward the severed hand. A dozen plans whirled in his head-chop it to bits with a hatchet, scald it on the alchemical hearthslab, throw it in the river... He had little knowledge of practical sorcery, but surely something was better than nothing.\n\nNew footsteps crunched on the broken glass in the kitchen.\n\n\"Don't move, boy. I don't think your fat friend can help you at the moment. That's it, just sit right there.\"\n\nLocke slid one of Jean's hatchets off the ground, placed it in his left hand, and stepped to the Wardrobe door.\n\nA man was standing at the lip of the entrance hall-a complete stranger to Locke's eyes. He wore along brownish red oilcloak with the hood thrown back, revealing long stringy black hair and drooping black moustaches. He held a crossbow in his right hand, almost casually, pointed at Bug. His eyes widened when Locke appeared in the Wardrobe doorway." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"This ain't right,\" he said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're not supposed to be here.\"\n\n\"You're the Gray King's man,\" said Locke. His left hand was up against the back of the wall beside the door, as though he were holding himself up, concealing the hatchet.\n\n\"A Gray King's man. He's got a few.\"\n\n\"I will give you any price you name,\" said Locke. \"Tell me where he is, what he's doing, and how I can avoid the Bondsmage.\"\n\n\"You can't. I'll give you that one for free. And any price I name? You got no such pull.\"\n\n\"I have forty-five thousand full crowns.\"\n\n\"You did,\" said the crossbowman, amiably enough. \"You don't anymore.\"\n\n\"One bolt,\" said Locke. \"Two of us.\" Jean groaned from the floor behind him. \"The situation bears thinking on.\"\n\n\"You don't look so well, and the boy don't look like much. I said don't move, boy.\"\n\n\"One bolt won't be enough,\" said Bug, his eyes cold with an anger Locke had never before seen in him. \"You have no idea who you're fucking with.\"\n\n\"One bolt,\" repeated Locke. \"It was for Bug, wasn't it? If I weren't here, you'd have shot him first thing. Then done for Jean. A commendable arrangement. But now there's two of us, and you're still armed for one.\"\n\n\"Easy, gents,\" said the Gray King's man. \"I don't see either of you eager fora hole in the face.\"\n\n\"You don't know what you're up against. What we've done.\" Bug flicked his wrist, slightly, and something fell into it from his sleeve. Locke only barely caught the motion-what was that thing? An Orphan's Twist? Oh, gods... that wouldn't do any good against a crossbow quarrel..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Bug...,\" he muttered.\n\n\"Tell him, Locke. Tell him he doesn't know who he's fucking with. Tell him he doesn't know what he's going to get! We can take him.\"\n\n\"First one of you moves an inch, I let fly.\" The crossbowman backed off astride, braced his weapon with his left arm, and swung his aim back and forth between Locke and Bug.\n\n\"Bug, don't...\"\n\n\"We can take him, Locke. You and I. He can't stop both of us. Hell, I bet he can't stop either of us.\"\n\n\"Bug, listen...\"\n\n\"Listen to your friend, boy.\" The intruder was sweating nervously behind his weapon.\n\n\"I'm a Gentleman Bastard,\" said Bug, slowly and angrily. \"Nobody messes with us. Nobody gets the best of us. You're going to pay!\"\n\nBug sprang upward from the floor, raising the hand that held the Orphan's Twist, a look of absolute burning determination on his face. The crossbow snapped, and the whip-crack of its unleashed cord echoed sharply from the enclosed glass walls of the kitchen.\n\nThe bolt that was meant to catch Bug between the eyes took him in the neck instead.\n\nHe jerked back as though stung by an insect; his knees buckled only halfway into his leap, and he spun backward, his useless little Orphan's Twist arcing out of his hands as he fell.\n\nThe Gray King's man threw down his crossbow and reached fora blade at his belt, but Locke was preceded out the doorway by the hatchet he'd concealed, flung with all of his rage. Jean could have split the man's head with the blade; Locke barely managed to crack him hard with the ball side of the weapon. But it was enough. The ball caught him just beneath his right eye and he flinched backward, crying out in pain." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke scooped up the crossbow and fell upon the intruder, howling. He swung the butt-stock of the weapon into the man's face, and the man's nose broke with a spray of blood. He fell backward, his head cracking against the Elderglass of the passage wall. Ashe slid down, he raised his hands before him in an attempt toward off Locke's next blow. Locke smashed his fingers with the crossbow; the screams of the two men mingled and echoed in the enclosed space.\n\nLocke ended the affair by slamming one curved end of the bow into the man's temple. The assassin's head spun, blood spattered against the glass, and he sagged into the passage corner, motionless.\n\nLocke threw down the crossbow, turned on his heel, and ran to Bug.\n\nThe bolt had pierced the boy's neck to the right of his windpipe, toward the outer edge of his neck, where it was buried up to its rounded feathers in a spreading pool of dark blood. Locke knelt and cradled Bug's head in his hands, feeling the tip of the crossbow quarrel on the back of Bug's neck. Slick warmth poured out over Locke's hands; he could feel it coursing outwith every ragged breath the boy took. Bug's eyes were wide, and they fixed on him.\n\n\"Forgive me,\" Locke mumbled through his tears. \"Gods damn me, Bug, this is my fault. We could have run. We should have. My pride... you and Calo and Galdo. That bolt should have been me.\"\n\n\"Your pride,\" the boy whispered. \"Justified. Gentleman... Bastard.\"\n\nLocke pressed his fingers against Bug's wound, imagining he could somehow dam the flow of blood, but the boy cried out, and Locke withdrew his shaking fingers." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Justified,\" Bug spat. Blood ran out of the corner of his mouth. \"Am I... not a second. Not... apprentice. Real Gentleman Bastard.\"\n\n\"You were never a second, Bug. You were never an apprentice.\" Locke sobbed, tried to brush the boy's hair back, and was aghast at the bloody handprint he left on Bug's pale forehead. \"You brave little idiot. You brave, stupid little bastard. This is my fault, Bug, please... please say this is all my fault.\"\n\n\"No,\" whispered Bug. \"Oh gods... hurts... hurts so much...\"\n\nThe boy said nothing more. His breathing came to one last ragged halt while Locke held him.\n\nLocke stared upward. It seemed to him that the alien glass ceiling that had shed warm light on his life for so many long years now took a knowing pleasure in showing him nothing but dark red: the reflection of the floor on which he sat with the motionless body of Bug, still bleeding in his arms.\n\nHe might have stayed there, locked in a reverie of grief for the gods only knew how long-but Jean groaned loudly in the next room.\n\nLocke remembered himself, shuddered, and set Bug's head down as gently as he could. He stumbled to his feet and lifted Jean's hatchet up off the ground once more. His motions were slow and unsteady as he walked back into the Wardrobe, raised the hatchet above his head, and brought it down with all the force he could muster on the sorcerous hand that lay between the bodies of Calo and Galdo.\n\nThe faint blue fire dimmed as the hatchet blade bit down into the desiccated flesh; Jean gasped loudly behind him, which Locke took as an encouraging sign. Methodically, maliciously, he hacked the hand into smaller pieces. He chopped at leathery skin and brittle bones until the black threads that had spelled Jean's name were separated and the blue glow faded entirely." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He stood staring down at the Sanzas until he heard Jean moving behind him.\n\n\"Oh, Bug. Oh, gods damn it.\" The big man stumbled to his feet and groaned. \"Forgive me, Locke. I just couldn't... I couldn't move!\"\n\n\"There's nothing to forgive.\" Locke spoke as though the sound of his own voice pained him. \"It was a trap. It had your name on it, that thing the mage left for us. They guessed you'd becoming back.\"\n\n\"A... a severed hand? A human hand, with my name stitched into it?\"\n\n\"Yes.\"\n\n\"A Hanged Man's Grasp,\" said Jean, staring at the fragments of flesh, and at the bodies of the Sanzas. \"I... read about them, when I was younger. Seems they work.\"\n\n\"Neatly removing you from the situation,\" said Locke, coldly. \"So one assassin hiding up above could comedown, kill Bug, and finish you.\"\n\n\"Just one?\"\n\n\"Just one.\" Locke sighed. \"Jean. In the temple rooms up above. Our lamp oil... please fetch it down.\"\n\n\"Lamp oil?\"\n\n\"All of it,\" said Locke. \"Hurry.\"\n\nJean paused in the kitchen, knelt, and slid Bug's eyes closed with his left hand. He buried his face in his hands and shook, making no noise. Then he stumbled back to his feet, wiping away tears, and ran off to carryout Locke's request.\n\nLocke walked slowly back into the kitchen, dragging the body of Calo Sanza with him. He placed the corpse beside the table, folded its arms across its chest, knelt, and kissed its forehead." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The man in the corner moaned and moved his head. Locke kicked him once in the face, then returned to the Wardrobe for Galdo's body. In short order, he had the Sanzas laid out neatly in the middle of the ransacked kitchen, with Bug beside them. Unable to bear the glassy stare of his dead friends\" eyes, Locke covered them with silk tablecloths from a smashed cabinet.\n\n\"I promise you a death-offering, brothers,\" Locke whispered when he'd finished. \"I promise you an offering that will make the gods themselves take notice. An offering that will make the shades of all the dukes and capas of Camorr feel like paupers. An offering in blood and gold and fire. This I swear by Aza Guilla who gathers us, and by Perelandro who sheltered us, and by the Crooked Warden who places his finger on the scale when our souls are weighed. This I swear to Chains, who kept us safe. I beg your forgiveness that I failed to do the same.\"\n\nLocke forced himself to stand up and return to work.\n\nA few old garments had been thrown into the Wardrobe corners; Locke gathered them up, along with a few components from the spilled Masque Box: a handful of false moustaches, a bit of false beard, and some stage adhesive. These he threw into the entrance corridor to the burrow; then he peeked into the vault. As he'd suspected, it was utterly empty. Not a single coin remained in any well or on any shelf. No doubt the sacks loaded onto the wagon earlier had vanished as well.\n\nFrom the sleeping quarters at the back of the burrow, he gathered sheets and blankets, then parchment, books, and scrolls. He threw these into a heap atop the dining room table. At last, he stood over the Gray King's assassin, his hands and clothes covered in blood, and waited for Jean to return." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"WAKE UP,\" said Locke. \"I know you can hear me.\"\n\nThe Gray King's assassin blinked, spat blood, and tried to push himself even farther back into the corner with his feet.\n\nLocke stared down at him. It was a curious reversal of the natural way of things. The assassin was well muscled, ahead taller than Locke, and Locke was particularly unimposing after the events of this night. But everything frightening about him was concentrated in his eyes, and they bore down on the assassin with a bright, hard hatred.\n\nJean stood a few paces behind him, a bag over his shoulder, his hatchets tucked into his belt.\n\n\"Do you want to live?\" asked Locke.\n\nThe assassin said nothing.\n\n\"It was a simple question, and I won't repeat it again. Do you want to live?\"\n\n\"I... yes,\" the man said softly.\n\n\"Then it pleases me to deny you your preference.\" Locke knelt beside him, reached beneath his own undertunic, and drew forth a little leather pouch that hung by a cord around his neck.\n\n\"Once,\" said Locke, \"when I was old enough to understand what I'd done, I was ashamed to be a murderer. Even after I'd paid the debt, I still wore this. All these years, to remind me.\"\n\nHe pulled the pouch forward, snapping the cord. He opened it and removed a single small white shark's tooth. He grabbed the assassin's right hand, placed the pouch and the tooth on his palm, and then squeezed the man's broken fingers together around them. The assassin writhed and screamed. Locke punched him.\n\n\"But now,\" he said, \"now, I'll be a murderer once again. I will set myself to slay until every last Gray King's man is gone. You hear me, cock-sucker? I will have the Bondsmage and I will have the Gray King, and if all the powers of Camorr and Karthain and Hell itself oppose me, it will be nothing-nothing but a longer trail of corpses between me and your master.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're mad,\" the assassin whispered. \"You'll never beat the Gray King.\"\n\n\"I'll do more than that. Whatever he's planning, I will unmake it. Whatever he desires, I will destroy it. Every reason you came down hereto murder my friends will evaporate. Every Gray King's man will die for nothing, starting with you.\"\n\nJean Tannen stepped forward and grabbed the assassin with one hand, hauling him to his knees. Jean dragged him into the kitchen, oblivious to the man's pleas for mercy. The assassin was flung against the table, beside the three covered bodies and the pile of cloth and paper, and he became aware of the cloying smell of lamp oil.\n\nWithout a word, Jean brought the ball of one of his hatchets down on the assassin's right knee; the man howled. Another swift crack shattered his left kneecap, and the assassin rolled over to shield himself from further blows-but none fell.\n\n\"When you seethe Crooked Warden,\" said Locke, twisting something in his hands, \"tell him that Locke Lamora learns slowly, but he learns well. And when you see my friends, you tell them that there are more of you on the way.\"\n\nHe opened his hands and let an object fall to the ground. It was apiece of knotted cord, charcoal gray, with white filaments jutting out from one end. Alchemical twist-match. When the white threads were exposed to air for several moments, they would spark, igniting the heavier, longer-burning gray cord they were wrapped in. It splashed into the edge of a pool of lamp oil.\n\nLocke and Jean went up through the concealed hatch into the old stone temple, letting the ladder cover fall shut with a bang behind them.\n\nIn the glass burrow beneath their feet, the flames began to rise." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "First the flames, and then the screams." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Handball is a Therin pastime, as cherished by the people of the southern city-states as it is scorned by the Vadrans in their kingdom to the north (although Vadrans in the south seem to love it well enough). Scholars belittle the idea that the game had its origin in the era of the Therin Throne, when the mad emperor Sartirana would amuse himself by bowling with the severed heads of executed prisoners. They do not, however, deny it out of hand, for it is rarely wise to underestimate the Therin Throne's excesses without the very firmest sort of proof.\n\nHandball is a rough sport for the rough classes, played between two teams on any reasonably flat surface that can be found. The ball itself is a rubbery mass of tree latex and leather about six inches wide. The field is somewhere between twenty and thirty yards long, with straight lines marked (usually with chalk) at either end. Each team tries to move the ball across the other side's goal line. The ball must beheld in both hands of a player as he runs, steps, or dives across the end of the field.\n\nThe ball maybe passed freely from player to player, but it must not be touched with any part of the body below the waist, and it must not be allowed to touch the ground, or possession will revert to the other team. A neutral adjudicator, referred to as the'Justice,\" attempts to enforce the rules at any given match, with varying degrees of success.\n\nMatches are sometimes played between teams representing entire neighborhoods or islands in Camorr; and the drinking, wagering, and brawling surrounding these affairs always starts several days beforehand and ends when the match is but a memory. Indeed, the match is frequently an island of relative calm and goodwill in a sea of chaos." }, { "from": "human", "value": "It is said that once, in the reign of the first Duke Andrakana, a match was arranged between the Cauldron and Catchfire." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One young fisherman, Markos, was reckoned the finest handballer in the Cauldron, while his closest friend Gervain was thought of as the best and fairest handball Justice in the entire city. Naturally, the adjudication of the match was given over to Gervain.\n\nThe match was held in one of the dusty, abandoned public squares of the Ashfall district with a thousand screaming, barely sober spectators from each side crowding the wrecked houses and alleys that surrounded the square. It was a bitter contest, close-fought all the way. At the very end, the Cauldron was behind by one point, with the final sands trickling out of the hourglass that kept the game's time.\n\nMarkos, bellowing madly, took the ball in his hands and bashed his way through an entire line of Catchfire defenders. With one eye blackened, his hands bruised purple, blood streaming on his elbows and knees, he flung himself desperately for the goal line as the very last second of the game fell away.\n\nMarkos lay upon the stones, his arms at full extension, with the ball touching but not quite crossing the chalked line. Gervain pushed aside the crowding players, stared down at Markos fora few seconds, and then said, \"Not across the line. No point.\"\n\nThe riot and the celebration that broke out afterward were indistinguishable from one another. Some say the yellowjackets killed a dozen men while battling it back; others say it was closer to a hundred. At least three of the city's capas died in a little war that broke out over reneged bets, and Markos vowed never to speak to Gervain again. The two had fished together on the same boat since boyhood; now the Cauldron as a whole warned Gervain's entire family that their lives wouldn't be worth sausage casings if anyone of them set foot in that district, ever again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Twenty years passed, thirty, thirty-five. The first Duke Nicovante rose to eminence in the city. Markos and Gervain saw nothing of one another during this time. Gervain traveled to Jeresh for many years, where he rowed galleys and hunted devilfish for pay. Eventually, homesick, he took passage for Camorr. At the dockside, he was astounded to see a man stepping off a little fishing boat-a man weathered and gray and bearded just like himself, but certainly none other than his old friend Markos.\n\n\"Markos,\" he cried. \"Markos, from the Cauldron! Markos! The gods are kind! Surely you remember me?\"\n\nMarkos turned to regard the traveler who stood before him; he stared fora few seconds. Then, without warning, he drew along-bladed fisherman's knife from his belt and buried it, up to the hilt, in Gervain's stomach. As Gervain stared downward in shock, Markos gave him a shove sideways, and the former handball Justice fell into the water of Camorr Bay, never to surface again.\n\n\"Not across the line, my ass,\" Markos spat.\n\nVerrari, Karthani, and Lashani nod knowingly when they hear this story. They assume it to be apocryphal, but it confirms something they claim to know in their hearts-that Camorri are all gods-damned crazy.\n\nCamorri, on the other hand, regard it as a valuable reminder against procrastinating in matters of revenge-or, if one cannot take satisfaction immediately, on the virtue of having along memory." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "THEY HAD TO steal another little boat, Locke having so profligately disposed of their first. On any other night, he would have had a good laugh.\n\nAnd so would Bug, and Calo, and Galdo, he told himself.\n\nLocke and Jean drifted south between the Narrows and the Mara Camorrazza, hunched over in old cloaks from the floor of the Wardrobe, locked away from the rest of the city in the mist. The soft flickering lights and murmuring voices in the distance seemed to Locke as artifacts of an alien life he'd left long ago, not elements of the city he'd lived in for as long as he could remember.\n\n\"I am such a fool,\" he muttered. He lay along a gunwale, aching, feeling the dry heaves rise up again from the battered pit of his stomach.\n\n\"If you say that one more time,\" said Jean, \"I will throw you into the water and row the boat over your head.\"\n\n\"I should have let us run.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" said Jean. \"But perhaps not everything miserable that happens to us stems directly from one of your choices, brother. Perhaps bad tidings come regardless of what we do. Perhaps if we'd run, that Bondsmage would have hunted us down upon the road, and scattered our bones somewhere between here and Talisham.\"\n\n\"And yet...\"\n\n\"We live,\" said Jean forcefully. \"We live and we may avenge them. You had the right idea when you did for that Gray King's man back in the burrow. The questions now are why, and what next? Quit acting like you've been breathing Wraithstone smoke. I need your wits, Locke. I need the Thorn of Camorr.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Let me know when you find him. He's a fucking fairy tale.\"\n\n\"No, he's sitting herein this boat with me. If you're not him now, you must become him. The Thorn is the man who can beat the Gray King. I can't do it alone; I know that much. Why would the Gray King do this to us? What does it bring him? Think, damn it!\"\n\n\"Too much to guess at,\" said Locke. His voice regained a bit of its vigor as he pondered. \"But... narrow the question. Consider the means. We saw one of his men beneath the temple; I saw another man when I was taken for the first time. So we know he had at least two working for him, in addition to the Bondsmage.\"\n\n\"Right. Does he strike you as a sloppy operator?\"\n\n\"No.\" Locke rubbed his hands together. \"No, everything he did seemed tome to be as intricate as Verrari clockwork.\"\n\n\"Yet he sent only one man down into the burrow.\"\n\n\"Yes-the Sanzas were already dead, I was thought to be dead, you walked into another trap set by the Bondsmage, and it would have been a crossbow quarrel for Bug. Deftly done. Quick and cruel.\"\n\n\"But why not send two men? Why not three? To bury us so viciously, why not be absolutely sure of the issue?\" Jean gave the water a few gentle strokes to hold their position against the current. \"I cannot believe he suddenly became lazy, at the very culmination of his scheme.\"\n\n\"Perhaps,\" said Locke, \"perhaps... he needed what other men he had elsewhere, very badly. Perhaps one was all he could spare.\" Locke gasped and slammed his right fist into the open palm of his left hand. \"Perhaps we weren't the culmination of his scheme after all.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What, then?\"\n\n\"Not what, who.\" Locke sat up and groaned, his head swimming. \"Who has he been attacking all these months? Jean, Barsavi believes the Gray King to be dead. So now what will he do tonight?\"\n\n\"He... he'll throw a revel. Just like he used to do on the Day of Changes. He'll celebrate.\"\n\n\"At the Floating Grave,\" said Locke. \"He'll throw the doors open, haul in casks-gods, real ones this time. He'll summon his whole court. All the Right People, drunk three deep along the causeway and the wharfs of the Wooden Waste. Just like the good old days.\"\n\n\"So the Gray King faked his own death to lure Barsavi into throwing a revel?\"\n\n\"It's not the revel,\" said Locke. \"It's... it's the people. All the Right People. That's it; gods, that's it! Barsavi will appear before his people tonight for the first time in months. Do you understand? All the gangs, all the garristas will witness anything that happens there.\"\n\n\"Which does what for the Gray King?\"\n\n\"The fucker has a flair for the dramatic. I'd say Barsavi's in a heap of shit. Row, Jean. Get me down to the Cauldron right now. I can cross to the Waste myself. I need to beat the Floating Grave, with haste.\"\n\n\"Have you lost your mind? If the Gray King and his men are still prowling, they'll kill you for sure. And if Barsavi sees you, you're supposed to be nearly dead of a stomach flux! You are nearly dead of more than that!\"\n\n\"They won't see Locke Lamora,\" said Locke, fumbling with some of the items he'd managed to salvage from the Masque Box. He held a false beard up to his chin and grinned. \"My hair's going to be gray fora few days, since the removal salve is burning up as we speak. I'll throw on some soot and put up the hood, and I'll be just another skinny nobody with bruises allover his face, come looking for some free wine from the Capa.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You should rest; you've had your life damn near pounded out of you. You're a complete mess.\"\n\n\"I ache in places I didn't previously realize I owned,\" said Locke, gingerly applying adhesive paste to his chin with his fingers. \"But it can't be helped. This is all the disguise gear we have left; we've got no money, no wardrobe, no more temple, no more friends. And you only have a few hours, at best, to go to ground and find us a place to stay before the Gray King's men realize one of their number is missing.\"\n\n\"But still-\"\n\n\"I'm half your size, Jean. You can't pamper me now. I can go unseen; you'll be obvious as the rising sun. My suggestion is that you find a hovel in Ashfall, clear out the rats, and leave some of our signs in the area. Just scrawl soot on the walls. I'll find you when I'm done.\"\n\n\"But-\"\n\n\"Jean, you wanted the Thorn of Camorr. Well, you've got him.\" Locke jammed the false beard onto his chin and pressed until the adhesive ceased tingling, letting him know that it was dry. \"Take me to the Cauldron and let me off. For Calo, Galdo, and Bug, if not for me! Something's about to happen at the Floating Grave, and I need to see what it is. Everything that bastard has done to us comes down to the next few hours-if it isn't happening already.\"\n\nIT COULD be said, with several levels of truthful meaning, that Vencarlo Barsavi outdid himself with the celebration for his victory over the murderer of his daughter.\n\nThe Floating Grave was thrown open. The guards remained at their posts, but discipline slackened agreeably. Huge alchemical lanterns were hauled up under the silk awnings on the topmost decks of the harbor-locked galleon; they lit up the Wooden Waste beneath the dark sky and shone like beacons through the fog." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Runners were sent out to the Last Mistake for food and wine." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The tavern was rapidly emptied of all its edibles, most of its casks, and every single one of its patrons. They streamed toward the Wooden Waste, drunk or sober, united incurious expectation.\n\nThe guards on the quay eyed the guests pouring in but did little else. Men and women without obvious weapons concealed beneath their clothes were passed through without so much as a cursory search. Flush with victory, the capa had decided to be magnanimous in more ways than one. This was to Locke's benefit; hooded and bearded and thoroughly begrimed, he slipped in with a huge crowd of Cauldron cutthroats making their rowdy way across the walkway to Barsavi's galleon, lit like a pleasure galley from some romantic tale of the pashas of the Bronze Sea.\n\nThe Floating Grave was packed with men and women. Capa Barsavi sat on his raised chair, surrounded by all of his inner circle: his red-faced, shouting sons; his most powerful surviving garristas; his quiet, watchful Berangias twins. Locke had to push and shove and utter curses to make his way into the heart of the fortress. He nudged himself into a corner near the main doors to the ballroom and watched the affair from this position, aching and uncomfortable but grateful just to be able to claim a vantage point.\n\nThe balconies were spilling over with toughs from all the gangs in Camorr-the rowdiness was growing by the minute. The heat was incredible, and the smell; Locke felt pressed against the wall by the weight of odors. Wet wool and sweated-through cotton, wine and wine breath, hair oils and leather.\n\nIt was just past the first hour of the morning when Barsavi suddenly rose from his chair and held up a single hand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Attentiveness spread outward like a wave. Right People nudged one another into silence and pointed to the capa. It took less than a minute for the echoing chaos of the celebration to peter down to a soft murmur. Barsavi nodded appreciatively.\n\n\"I trust we're enjoying ourselves?\"\n\nThere was a general outburst of cheers, applause, and foot-stomping. Locke privately wondered how wise that really was in a ship of any sort. He was careful to applaud along with the crowd.\n\n\"Feels marvelous to be out from under a cloud, doesn't it?\"\n\nAnother cheer; Locke scratched at his temporary beard, now damp with sweat. There was a sudden sharp pain in his stomach, right where one of the younger Barsavis had given him particular consideration with a fist. The heat and the smell were triggering strange tickly feelings of nausea in the back of his throat, and he'd had enough of that particular sensation to last the rest of his life. Sourly, he coughed into his hands and prayed for just a few more hours of strength.\n\nOne of the Berangias sisters stepped over beside the capa, her shark's-teeth bangles shining in the light of the hall's chandeliers, and whispered into his ear. He listened fora few seconds, and then he smiled.\n\n\"Cheryn,\" he shouted, \"proposes that I allow her and her sister to entertain us. Shall I?\"\n\nThe answering cheer was twice as forceful (and twice as genuine, to Locke's ears) as anything yet heard. The wooden walls reverberated with it, and Locke flinched.\n\n\"Let's have a teeth show, then!\"\n\nAll was chaos for the next few minutes. Dozens of Barsavi's people pushed revelers back, clearing an area at the center of the floor about ten yards on aside. Revelers were pressed up the stairs until the balconies creaked beneath their weight; observation holes were cranked open so those on the top deck could peer down at the proceedings. Locke was pushed back into his corner more firmly than ever." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Men with hooked poles drew up the wooden panels of the floor, revealing the dark water of Camorr Bay. A thrill of anticipation and alarm passed through the crowd at the thought of what might be swimming down there. The unquiet spirits of eight Full Crowns, for one thing, thought Locke.\n\nAs the final panels in the center of the opening square were removed, almost everyone present could seethe little support platforms on which they'd rested, not one wider than a man's hand-spread. They were spaced about five feet apart. Barsavi's arena for his own private teeth shows-a challenge for any contrarequialla, even a pair as experienced as the Berangias sisters.\n\nCheryn and Raiza, old hands at teasing a crowd, were stripping out of their leather doublets, bracers, and collars. They took their graceful time while the capa's subjects hooted approval, hoisted cups and glasses, and in some cases even shouted unlikely propositions.\n\nAnjais hurried forward with a little packet of alchemical powders in his hands. He dumped this into the water, then took a prudent step back. This was the'summons\"-a potent mix of substances that would rouse the shark's ire and maintain it for the duration of the contest. Blood in the water could attract and enrage a shark, but the summons would make it utterly drunk with the urge to attack-to leap, thrash, and roll at the women jumping back and forth across their little platforms.\n\nThe Berangias sisters stepped forward to nearly the edge of the artificial pool, holding their traditional weapons: the pick-head axes and the short javelins. Anjais and Pachero stood behind them and just to their left; the Capa remained standing by his chair, clapping his hands and grinning broadly.\n\nA black fin broke the surface of the pool; a tail thrashed. There was a brief splash of water, and the electric atmosphere of the crowd intensified. Locke could feel it washing over him-lust and fear entwined, a powerful, animalistic sensation. The crowd had backed off about two yards from any edge of the pool, but still some in the front ranks were shaking nervously, and a few were trying to push their way farther back through the crowd, to the delight and derision of those around them." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "As the writer's tale assistant, advance the plot.\nTags: fantasy, heist, crime\nAuthor: Scott Lynch\nTitle: The Lies of Locke Lamora\nChapter: 22" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Men with hooked poles drew up the wooden panels of the floor, revealing the dark water of Camorr Bay. A thrill of anticipation and alarm passed through the crowd at the thought of what might be swimming down there. The unquiet spirits of eight Full Crowns, for one thing, thought Locke.\n\nAs the final panels in the center of the opening square were removed, almost everyone present could seethe little support platforms on which they'd rested, not one wider than a man's hand-spread. They were spaced about five feet apart. Barsavi's arena for his own private teeth shows-a challenge for any contrarequialla, even a pair as experienced as the Berangias sisters.\n\nCheryn and Raiza, old hands at teasing a crowd, were stripping out of their leather doublets, bracers, and collars. They took their graceful time while the capa's subjects hooted approval, hoisted cups and glasses, and in some cases even shouted unlikely propositions.\n\nAnjais hurried forward with a little packet of alchemical powders in his hands. He dumped this into the water, then took a prudent step back. This was the'summons\"-a potent mix of substances that would rouse the shark's ire and maintain it for the duration of the contest. Blood in the water could attract and enrage a shark, but the summons would make it utterly drunk with the urge to attack-to leap, thrash, and roll at the women jumping back and forth across their little platforms.\n\nThe Berangias sisters stepped forward to nearly the edge of the artificial pool, holding their traditional weapons: the pick-head axes and the short javelins. Anjais and Pachero stood behind them and just to their left; the Capa remained standing by his chair, clapping his hands and grinning broadly.\n\nA black fin broke the surface of the pool; a tail thrashed. There was a brief splash of water, and the electric atmosphere of the crowd intensified. Locke could feel it washing over him-lust and fear entwined, a powerful, animalistic sensation. The crowd had backed off about two yards from any edge of the pool, but still some in the front ranks were shaking nervously, and a few were trying to push their way farther back through the crowd, to the delight and derision of those around them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "In truth, the shark couldn't have been longer than five or six feet; some of those used at the Shifting Revel reached twice that length." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Still, a fish like that could easily maim on the leap, and if it dragged a person down into the water with it, well, raw size would mean little in such an uneven contest.\n\nThe Berangias sisters threw up their arms, then turned as one to the capa. The sister on the right-Raiza? Cheryn? Locke had never learned the trick of telling them apart... And at the thought his heart ached for the Sanzas. Playing deftly to the crowd, Barsavi put up his hands and looked around at his court. When they cheered him on, he stepped down between the ladies and received a kiss on the cheek from each of them.\n\nThe water stirred just before the three of them; a sleek black shadow swept past the edge of the pool, then dove down into the lightless depths. Locke could feel five hundred hearts skip a beat, and the breath in five hundred throats catch. His own concentration seemed to peak, and he caught every detail of that moment as though it were frozen before him, from the eager smile on Barsavi's round red face to the rippling reflection of chandelier light on the water.\n\n\"Camorr!\" cried the Berangias sister to the capa's right. Again, the noise of the crowd died, this time as though one gigantic windpipe had been slit. Five hundred pairs of eyes were fixed on the capa and his bodyguards.\n\n\"We dedicate this death,\" she continued, \"to Capa Vencarlo Barsavi, our lord and patron!\"\n\n\"Well does he deserve it,\" said the other.\n\nThe shark exploded out of the pool immediately before them-a sleek dark devilish thing, with black lidless eyes and white teeth gaping. A ten-foot fountain of water rose up with it, and it half somersaulted in midair, falling forward, falling..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Directly atop Capa Barsavi.\n\nBarsavi put up his arms to shield himself; the shark came down with its mouth wide open around one of them. The fish's muscle-heavy body slammed hard against the wood floor, yanking Barsavi down with it. Those implacable jaws squeezed tight, and the capa screamed as blood gushed from just beneath his right shoulder, running out across the floor and down the shark's blunt snout.\n\nHis sons dashed forward to his aid. The Berangias sister to the right looked down at the shark, shifted her weight fluidly to a fighting stance, raised her gleaming axe, and whirled with all the strength of her upper body behind the blow.\n\nHer blade smashed Pachero Barsavi's head just above his left ear; the tall man's optics flew off and he staggered forward, his skull caved in, dead before his knees hit the deck.\n\nThe crowd screamed and surged, and Locke prayed to the Benefactor to preserve him long enough to make sense of whatever happened next.\n\nAnjais gaped at his struggling father and his falling brother. Before he could utter a single word the other Berangias stepped up behind him, reached around to press her javelin shaft up beneath his chin, and buried the spike of her axe in the back of his head. He spat blood and toppled forward, unmoving.\n\nThe shark writhed and tore at the capa's right arm, while he screamed and beat at its snout until his left hand was scraped bloody by the creature's abrasive skin. With a final sickening wrench, the shark tore his right arm completely off and slid backward into the water, leaving abroad red streak on the wooden deck behind it. Barsavi rolled away, spraying blood from the stump of his arm, staring at the bodies of his sons in uncomprehending terror. He tried to stumble up." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One of the Berangias sisters kicked him back to the deck.\n\nThere was a tumult behind the fallen Capa; several Red Hands rushed forward, weapons drawn, hollering incoherently. What happened next was a blurry, violent mystery to Locke's untrained eyes, but the two half-clothed Berangias dealt with half a dozen armored men with a brutality the shark would have envied. Javelins flew, axes whirled, throats opened, and blood spurted. The last Red Hand was slumping to the deck, his face a jagged scarlet ruin, perhaps five seconds after the first had charged forward.\n\nThere was brawling on the balconies, now-Locke could see men pushing their way through the crowds, men in heavy gray oilcloaks, armed with crossbows and long knives. Some of Barsavi's guards stood back and did nothing; some attempted to flee; others were taken from behind by their cloaked assailants and killed out of hand. Crossbow strings sang; bolts whirred through the air. There was a resounding bang to Locke's left. The great doors to the ballroom had slammed shut, seemingly of their own accord, and the clockwork mechanisms within were whirring and clicking. People battered at them uselessly.\n\nOne of Barsavi's men pushed his way out of a crowd of panicking, shoving Right People and raised a crossbow at the Berangias sisters, who stood over the wounded capa like lionesses guarding a kill. A dark streak fell on him from out of the shadowy corners of the ceiling; there was an inhuman screech, and the shot went far awry, hissing above the sisters\" heads to strike the far wall. The guard batted furiously at the brown shape that flapped back into the air on long curving wings-then he put a hand to his neck, staggered, and fell flat on his face." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Remain where you are,\" boomed a voice with an air of assured command." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Remain where you are and attend.\"\n\nThe command had a greater effect than Locke would have expected. He even felt his own fear dimming down, his own urge to flee vanishing. The wailing and screaming of the crowd quieted; the pounding on the great doors ceased; an eerie calm rapidly fell on what had been the exultant court of Capa Barsavi, not two minutes earlier.\n\nThe hairs on the back of Locke's neck stood up; the change in the crowd was not natural. He might have missed it, but that he'd been under its influence before. There was sorcery in the air. He shivered despite himself. Gods, I hope coming here was as wise an idea as it seemed.\n\nThe Gray King was suddenly therewith them.\n\nIt was as though he'd stepped out of a door that opened from thin air, just beside the capa's chair. He wore his cloak and mantle, and he stepped with a hunter's easy assurance across the bodies of the Red Hands. At his side strode the Falconer, with a gauntleted fist held up to the air. Vestris settled upon it, pulled in her wings, and screeched triumphantly. There were gasps and murmurs in the crowd.\n\n\"No harm will come to you,\" said the Gray King. \"I've done what harm I came to do tonight.\" He stepped up between the Berangias sisters and looked down at Capa Barsavi, who was writhing and moaning on the deck at his feet.\n\n\"Hello, Vencarlo. Gods, but you've looked better.\"\n\nThen the Gray King sweptback his hood, and once again Locke saw those intense eyes, the hard lines of the face, the dark hair with streaks of gray, the lean rugged countenance. And he gasped, because he finally realized what had nagged him during his first meeting with the Gray King, that odd familiarity." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All the pieces of that particular puzzle were before him. The Gray King stood between the Berangias sisters, and it was now plain to Locke's eye that they were siblings-very nearly triplets.\n\n\"CAMORR,\" SHOUTED the Gray King, \"the reign of the Barsavi family is at an end!\"\n\nHis people had taken firm control of the crowd; there were perhaps two dozen of them, in addition to the Berangias sisters and the Falconer. The fingers of the mage's left hand curled and twisted and flexed, and he muttered under his breath as he gazed around the room. Whatever spell he was weaving did its part to calm the crowd, but no doubt the three black rings visible on his exposed wrist arrested the attention of the revelers as well.\n\n\"In fact,\" said the Gray King, \" the Barsavi family is at an end. No more sons or daughters, Vencarlo. I wanted you to know, before you died, that I had wiped the disease of your loins from the face of the world.\n\n\"In the past,\" he shouted, \"you have known meas the Gray King. Well, now I am out of the shadows. That name is not to bespoken again. Henceforth, you may call me... Capa Raza.\"\n\nRaza, thought Locke. Throne Therin for'vengeance.\" Not subtle.\n\nVery little about the Gray King, he was learning to his sorrow, actually was.\n\nCapa Raza, as he now styled himself, bent over Barsavi, who was weak with blood loss, whimpering in pain. Raza reached down and pried the capa's signature ring from his remaining hand. He held this up for all the crowd to behold, then slid it onto the fourth finger of his own left hand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Vencarlo,\" said Capa Raza, \" I have waited so many years to see you like this. Now your children are dead, and your office is passed tome, along with your fortress and your treasure. Every legacy you thought to leave to someone of your name is in my hands. I have erased you from history itself. Does that suit your fancy, scholar? Like an errant chalk mark upon a slate. I have wiped you clean away.\n\n\"Do you remember the slow death of your wife? How she trusted your Berangias sisters to the very end? How they would bring her meals to her? She didn't die of stomach tumors. It was black alchemy. I wanted to do something to whet my appetite, during the long years I spent building this death for you.\" Capa Raza grinned with demonic mirth. \"Lingered in pain, didn't she? Well, it wasn't an act of the gods, Vencarlo. Like everyone else you loved, she died because of you.\"\n\n\"Why?\" Barsavi's voice was weak and small.\n\nCapa Raza knelt beside him, cradled his head almost tenderly, and whispered in his ear for several long moments. Barsavi stared up at him when he was finished, jaw slack, eyes wide with disbelief, and Raza nodded slowly.\n\nHe yanked Barsavi's head up and backward by his beards. A stiletto fell into his other hand from within his sleeve, and he rammed it into the underside of Vencarlo Barsavi's exposed chins, all the way to the hilt. Barsavi kicked weakly, just once.\n\nCapa Raza stood up, withdrawing the blade. The Berangias sisters grabbed their former master by his lapels and slid him into the dark water of the bay, which received his body as readily as it had taken his victims and his enemies, overall the long years of his rule." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"One capa rules Camorr,\" said Raza, \"and now it is me. Now it is me!\" He raised the bloody stiletto over his head and gazed around the room, as though inviting disagreement. When none came forth, he continued.\n\n\"It is not my intention merely to remove Barsavi, but to replace him. My reasons are my own. So now there is business between myself and all the rest of you, all the Right People.\" He gazed slowly around the room, his arms folded before him, his chin thrust out like a conquering general in an old bronze sculpture.\n\n\"You must hear my words, and then come to a decision.\"\n\n\"NOTHING THAT you have achieved shall betaken from you,\" he continued. \" Nothing that you have worked or suffered for will be revoked. I admire the arrangements Barsavi built, as much as I hated the man who built them. So this is my word.\n\n\"All remains as it was. All garristas and their gangs will control the same territories; they will pay the same tribute, on the same day, once a week. The Secret Peace remains. As it was death to breach under Barsavi's rule, so shall it be death undermine.\n\n\"I claim all of Barsavi's offices and powers. I claim all of his dues. Injustice, I must therefore claim his debts and his responsibilities. If any man can show that he was owed by Barsavi, he will now be owed the same by Capa Raza. First among them is Eymon Danzier... Step forward, Eymon.\"\n\nThere was a murmur and a ripple in the crowd to Capa Raza's right; after a few moments, the skinny man Locke remembered very well from the Echo Hole was pushed forward, obviously terrified. His bony knees all but knocked together." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Eymon, beat ease.\" Raza held out his left hand, palm down, fingers splayed, as Barsavi had once done for every single person watching. \"Kneel tome and name me your capa.\"\n\nShaking, Eymon dropped to one knee, took Raza's hand, and kissed the ring. His lips came away wet with Barsavi's blood. \"Capa Raza,\" he said, in an almost pleading tone.\n\n\"You did a very brave thing at the Echo Hole, Eymon. A thing few men would have done in your place. Barsavi was right to promise you much for it, and I will make good on that promise. You will have a thousand crowns, and a suite of rooms, and such comforts that men with many long years of life ahead of them will pray to the gods to put them in your place.\"\n\n\"I... I...\" Tears were actually pouring out of the man's eyes. \"I wasn't sure what you would... thank you, Capa Raza. Thank you.\"\n\n\"I wish you much pleasure, for the service you have given me.\"\n\n\"Then... it wasn't... it wasn't you, at the Echo Hole, if I may ask, Capa Raza.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, Eymon.\" Raza laughed, a deep and pleasant sound. \"No, that was but an illusion.\"\n\nIn the far corner of the Floating Grave's ballroom, that particular illusion fumed silently to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists.\n\n\"Tonight you have seen me with blood on my hands,\" Raza shouted, \"and you have seen them open in what I hope will be seen as true generosity. I am not a difficult man to get along with; I want us to prosper together. Serve meas you served Barsavi, and I know it will be so. I ask you, garristas, who will bend the knee and kiss my ring as your capa?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Rum Hounds,\" shouted a short, slender woman at the front of the crowd on the ballroom floor.\n\n\"The Falselight Cutters,\" cried another man. \"The Falselight Cutters say aye!\"\n\nThat doesn't make any gods-damned sense, thought Locke. The Gray King murdered their old garristas. Are they playing some sort of game with him?\n\n\"The Wise Mongrels!\"\n\n\"The Catchfire Barons.\"\n\n\"The Black Eyes.\"\n\n\"The Full Crowns,\" came another voice, and an echoing chorus of affirmations. \"The Full Crowns stand with Capa Raza!\"\n\nSuddenly Locke wanted to laugh out loud. He put a fist to his mouth and turned the noise into a stifled cough. It was suddenly obvious. The Gray King hadn't just been knocking off Barsavi's most loyal garristas. He must have been cutting deals with their subordinates, beforehand.\n\nGods, there had been more Gray King's men in the room out of costume than in... waiting for the evening's real show to commence.\n\nA half dozen men and women stepped forward and knelt before Raza at the edge of the pool, wherein the shark hadn't shown so much as a fin since forcibly relieving Barsavi of his arm.\n\nThe damned Bondsmage certainly has away with animals, Locke thought, with mixed anger and jealousy. He found himself feeling very small indeed before each display of the Falconer's arts.\n\nOne by one the garristas knelt and made their obeisance to the Capa, kissing his ring and saying'Capa Raza\" with real enthusiasm. Five more stepped forward to kneel directly afterward, apparently giving into the direction they felt events to be slipping. Locke calculated rapidly. With just the pledges he'd already received, Raza could now call three or four hundred Right People his own. His overt powers of enforcement had increased substantially." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Then we are introduced,\" said Raza to the entire crowd. \"We are met, and you know my intentions. You are free to return to your business.\"\n\nThe Falconer made a few gestures with his freehand. The clockwork mechanisms within the doors to the hall clattered in reverse, and the doors clicked open.\n\n\"I give the undecided three nights,\" Capa Raza shouted. \" Three nights to come tome here and bend the knee, and swear tome as they did to Barsavi. I devoutly wish to be lenient-but I warn you, now is not the time to anger me. You have seen my work; you know I have resources Barsavi lacked. You know I can be merciless when I am moved to displeasure. If you are not content serving beneath me, if you think it might be wiser or more exciting to oppose me, I will make one suggestion: pack what fortune you have and leave the city by the landward gates. If you wish to part ways, no harm will come to you from my people. For three nights, I give you my leave and my parole.\n\n\"After that,\" he said, lowering his voice, \"I will make what examples I must. Go now, and speak to your pezon. Speak to your friends, and to other garristas. Tell them what I have said; tell them I wait to receive their pledges.\"\n\nSome of the crowd began to disperse out the doors; others, wiser perhaps, began to lineup before Capa Raza. The former Gray King took each pledge at the bloody heart of a circle of corpses.\n\nLocke waited for several minutes until the press had lessened, until the solid torrent of hot, smelly humanity had decreased to a few thick streams, and then he moved toward the entrance. His feet felt as heavy as his head; fatigue seemed to be catching up with him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There were corpses here and thereon the floor-Barsavi's guards, the loyal ones. Locke could see them now as the crowds continued to thin. Just beside the tall doors to the hall lay Bernell, who'd grown old in Capa Barsavi's service. His throat was slashed; he lay in a pool of his own blood, and his fighting knives remained in their sheaths. He'd not had time to pull them.\n\nLocke sighed. He paused fora moment in the doorway and stared back at Capa Raza and the Falconer. The Bondsmage seemed to stare right back at him, and for the tiniest instant Locke's heart raced, but the sorcerer said nothing and did nothing. He merely continued to stand watch over the ritual as Capa Raza's new subjects kissed his ring. Vestris yawned, snapping her beak briefly open, as though the affairs of the unwinged bored her terribly. Locke hurried out.\n\nAll the guards who watched the revelers as they left the galleon and filed up the walkway toward the quay were Raza's men; they hadn't bothered to move the bodies that lay on the ground at their feet. Some merely stared coldly; others nodded companionably. Locke recognized more than a few of them.\n\n\"Three nights, ladies and gents, three nights,\" said one. \"Tell your friends. You're Capa Raza's now. No need to be alarmed; just do as you've always done.\"\n\nSo now we have some answers, thought Locke. Forgive me again, Nazca. I couldn't have done anything even if I'd had the courage to try.\n\nHe clutched his aching stomach as he shambled along, head down. No guard spared a second glance for the skinny, bearded, dirty old beggar; there were a thousand in Camorr just like him, a thousand interchangeable losers, hopeless and penniless at the very bottom of the many levels of misery the underworld had to offer." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now to hide. And to plan.\n\n\"Please yourself with what you've stolen tonight, you son of a bitch,\" Locke whispered to himself when he'd made his way past the last of Raza's guards. \"Please yourself very well. I want to seethe loss in your eyes when I put the fucking dagger in your heart.\"\n\nBUT ONE can only get so far on thoughts of vengeance alone. The sharp pains in his stomach started up again about halfway through his slow, lonely walk to the Ashfall district.\n\nHis stomach ached and churned and growled. The night seemed to turn darker around him, and the narrow, fog-softened city horizons tilted strangely, as though he were drunk. Locke staggered and clutched at his chest, sweating and mumbling.\n\n\"Damned Gazer,\" said a voice from the darkness. \"Probably chasing dragons and rainbows and the lost treasure of Camorr.\" Laughter followed this, and Locke stumbled on, anxious to avoid becoming a target for mischief. He'd never felt such weariness. It was as though his vigor had burned down to a pile of embers within him, fading and cooling and graying with every passing second.\n\nAshfall, never hospitable, was a hellish conglomeration of shadow-shapes to Locke's decreasing concentration. He was breathing heavily, and sweating rivers. It felt as though someone were steadily packing more and more dry cotton in behind his eyeballs. His feet grew heavier and heavier; he urged them forward, one scraping step after another, on into the darkness and the jagged looming shadows of collapsed buildings. Unseen things skittered in the night; unseen watchers murmured at his passing.\n\n\"What the... gods, I... must... Jean,\" he mumbled as he tripped against a man-sized chunk of fallen masonry and sprawled in the dusty shadows behind it. The place smelled of limestone and cookfires and urine. He lacked the strength to push himself backup." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Jean,\" he gasped, one last time; then he fell forward onto his face, unconscious even before his head struck the ground.\n\nTHE LIGHTS became visible in the third hour of the morning, perhaps a mile out to sea due south of the Dregs, where a nucleus of greater darkness slid low against the water, tacking slowly and gracelessly. The ship's ghostly white sails flapped in the breezes as it made its way toward the Old Harbor; the bored watch in the three-story tower at the tip of the South Needle were the first to spot it.\n\n\"Right sloppy sailor, that one,\" said the younger watchman, looking-glass in hand.\n\n\"Probably Verrari,\" muttered the senior, who was methodically torturing apiece of ivory with a slender carving knife. He wanted it to come out like a sculpted terrace he'd seen at the Temple of Iono, alive with lovely relief and fantastical representations of drowned men taken by the Lord of the Grasping Waters. What he seemed to be producing more closely resembled a lump of white dogshit, life-size. \"Sooner trust a sailing ship to a blind drunkard with no hands than a Verrari.\"\n\nNothing else the vessel did warranted much attention until the lights suddenly appeared, and their deep yellow glow could be seen rippling on the dark surface of the water.\n\n\"Yellow lights, sergeant,\" said the younger watchman. \"Yellow lights.\"\n\n\"What?\" The older man set down his piece of ivory, plucked the spyglass from the younger man's hands, and gave the incoming ship a good long stare. \"Shit. Yellow it is.\"\n\n\"A plague ship,\" whispered the other watchman. \"I've never seen one.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Either it's a plague ship, or some bum-fancier from Jerem who don't know proper colors for harbor lights.\" He slid the spyglass casing shut and stepped over to a brass cylinder, mounted sideways on the rim of the watch station's western wall, pointed toward the softly lit towers on the shore of the Arsenal District. \"Ring the bell, boy. Ring the damn bell.\"\n\nThe younger watchman reached over the other side of the little tower's parapet to grasp a rope that dangled there. He began ringing the station's heavy brass bell, a steady repetition of two pulls: ding-ding, ding-ding, ding-ding.\n\nFlickering blue light flashed out from one of the Arsenal towers. The watch-sergeant worked the knob on the brass cylinder, turning the shutters that concealed the light of the unusually powerful alchemical globe within the cylinder. There was a list of simple messages he could flash to the Arsenal stations; they would flash it in turn to other ready sets of eyes. With luck, it might reach the Palace of Patience, or even Raven's Reach, within two minutes.\n\nSometime did pass; the plague ship grew larger and more distinct.\n\n\"Come on, half-wits,\" muttered the watch-sergeant. \"Rouse yourselves. Quit pulling that damn bell, boy. I think we've been heard.\"\n\nEchoing across the mist-shrouded city came the high whistles of the Quarantine Guard. This noise was joined in short order by the rattle of drums: a night-muster of yellowjackets. Bright white lights flared to life in the towers of the Arsenal, and the watch-sergeant could seethe tiny black shapes of men running along the waterfront.\n\n\"Oh, now we'll see something,\" he muttered. More lights appeared to the northeast; little towers dotted the South Needle and the Dregs, overlooking the Old Harbor, where Camorr set its plague anchorage bylaw and custom. Each little tower held a stone-throwing engine that could reach out across the water with fifty-pound loads of rock or fire-oil. The plague anchorage was one hundred and fifty yards south of the Dregs, directly over sixty fathoms of water, well within the throwing arcs of a dozen engines that could sink or burn anything afloat in minutes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "A galley was sliding out of the Arsenal gate, between the brightly lit towers-one of the swift little patrol vessels called'gulls,\" for the winglike sweep of their oars." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A gull carried twenty oars on aside, rowed by eighty paid men; on its deck it carried forty swordsmen, forty archers, and a pair of the heavy bolt-throwers called scorpia. It had no provisions for cargo and only one mast with a simple, furled sail. It was meant to do just one thing-close with any ship that threatened the city of Camorr and kill every man aboard, if its warnings were not heeded.\n\nSmaller boats were putting out from the northern edge of the South Needle; harbor pilots and crews of yellowjackets, with red and white lanterns blazing at their prows.\n\nOn the opposite side of the long breakwater, the gull was just getting up to speed; the rows of graceful oars dipped and cut white froth in the black sea. A trail of rippling wake grew behind the galley; a drumbeat could be heard echoing across the water, along with the shouts of orders.\n\n\"Close, close,\" muttered the watch-sergeant. \"Going to be close. That poor bastard don't sail well; might have to get a stone across the bows before she slows up.\"\n\nA few small dark shapes could be seen moving against the pale billow of the plague ship's sails; too few, it seemed, to work them properly. Yet as the vessel slid into Old Harbor, it began to show signs of slowing down. Its topsails were drawn up, albeit in a laggardly and lubberly fashion. The remaining sails were braced so as to spill the ship's wind. They slackened, and with the creak of rope pulleys and the muted shouts of orders, they too began to draw up toward the yards.\n\n\"Oh, she's got fine lines,\" mused the watch-sergeant. \"Fine lines.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That's not a galleon,\" said the younger watchman.\n\n\"Looks like one of those flush-deckers they were supposed to be building up in Emberlain; frigate-fashion, I think they call it.\"\n\nThe plague ship wasn't black from the darkness alone; it was lacquered black, and ornamented from bow to stern with witchwood filigree. There were no weapons to be seen.\n\n\"Crazy northerners. Even their ships have to be black. But she does look damn fine; fast, I'll bet. What a heap of shit to fall into; now she'll be stuck at quarantine for weeks. Poor bastards'll be lucky to live.\"\n\nThe gull rounded the point of the South Needle, oars biting hard into the water. By the galley's running lamps, the two watchmen could see that the scorpia were loaded and fully manned; that the archers stood on their raised platforms with longbows in hand, fidgeting nervously.\n\nA few minutes later the gull pulled abreast with the black ship, which had drifted into a point about four hundred yards offshore. An officer strode out onto the gull's longbow spar, and put a speaking trumpet to his mouth.\n\n\"What vessel?\"\n\n\"Satisfaction; Emberlain,\" came a return shout.\n\n\"Last port of call?\"\n\n\"Jerem!\"\n\n\"Ain't that pretty,\" muttered the watch-sergeant. \"Poor bastards might have anything.\"\n\n\"What is your cargo?\" asked the officer on the gull.\n\n\"Ship's provisions only; we were to take cargo in Ashmere.\"\n\n\"Complement?\"\n\n\"Sixty-eight; twenty now dead.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You fly the plague lights in real need, then?\"\n\n\"Yes, for the love of the gods. We don't know what it is... The men are burning with fever. The captain is dead and the physiker died yesterday! We beg assistance.\"\n\n\"You may have a plague anchorage,\" shouted the Camorri officer. \"You must not approach our shore closer than one hundred and fifty yards, or you will be sunk. Any boats putout will be sunk or burned. Any man who attempts to swim to shore will be shot down-assuming he makes it past the sharks.\"\n\n\"Please, send us a physiker. Send us alchemists, for the love of the gods!\"\n\n\"You may not throw corpses overboard,\" continued the officer. \"You must keep them onboard. Any packages or objects somehow conveyed to shore from your vessel will be burnt without examination. Any attempt to make such conveyance will be grounds for burning or sinking. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes, but please, is there nothing else you can do?\"\n\n\"You may have priests onshore, and you may have freshwater and charitable provisions sent forth by rope from the dockside-these ropes to be sent out by boat from shore, and to be cut after use if necessary.\"\n\n\"And nothing else?\"\n\n\"You may not approach our shore, on pain of attack, but you may turn and leave at will. May Aza Guilla and Iono aid you in your time of need; I pray mercy for you, and wish you a swift deliverance in the name of Duke Nicovante of Camorr.\"\n\nA few minutes later the sleek black ship settled into its plague anchorage with furled sails, yellow lights gleaming above the black water of the Old Harbor, and there it rocked, gently, as the city slept in silver mists." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean Tannen entered the service of the Death Goddess about half a year after Locke returned from his sojourn in the priesthood of Nara, with the usual instructions to learn what he could and then return home in five or six months. He used the assumed name Tavrin Callas, and he traveled south from Camorr for more than a week to reach the great temple of Aza Guilla known as Revelation House.\n\nUnlike the other eleven (or twelve) orders of Therin clergy, the servants of Aza Guilla began their initiation in only one place. The coastal highlands that rose south of Talisham ended at vast, straight white cliffs that fell three or four hundred feet to the crashing waves of the Iron Sea. Revelation House was carved from one of these cliffs, facing out to sea, on a scale that recalled the work of the Eldren but was accomplished-gradually and painstakingly, in an ongoing process-solely with human arts.\n\nPicture a number of deep rectangular galleries, dug straight back into the cliff, connected solely by exterior means. To get anywhere in Revelation House, one had to venture outside, onto the walkways, stairs, and carved stone ladders, regardless of the weather or the time of day. Safety rails were unknown to Revelation House; initiates and teachers alike scuttled along in light or darkness, in rain or bright clear skies, with no barrier between themselves and a plunge to the sea save their own confidence and good fortune.\n\nTwelve tall excised columns to the west of Revelation House held brass bells at the top; these open-faced rock tubes, about six feet deep and seventy feet high, had slender hand-and footholds carved into their rear walls. At dawn and dusk, initiates were expected to climb them and ensure that each bell was rung twelve times, once for each god in the pantheon. The carillon was always somewhat ragged; when Jean thought he could getaway with it, he rang his own bell thirteen times." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Three initiates plunged to their deaths attempting to perform this ritual before Jean had passed his first month at the temple." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This number struck him as surprisingly low, given how many of the devotional duties of Aza Guilla's new servants (not to mention the architecture of their home) were clearly designed to encourage premature meetings with the Death Goddess.\n\n\"We are concerned herewith death considered in two aspects: Death the Transition and Death Everlasting,\" said one of their lecturers, an elderly priestess with three braided silver collars at the neck of her black robe. \" Death Everlasting is the realm of the Lady Most Kind; it is a mystery not intended for penetration or comprehension from our side of the Lady's shroud. Death the Transition, therefore, is the sole means by which we may achieve a greater understanding of her dark majesty.\n\n\"Your time herein Revelation House will bring you close to Death the Transition on many occasions, and it is a certainty that some of you will pass beyond before you finish your initiation. This maybe achieved through inattentiveness, lassitude, ill fortune, or the inscrutable will of the Lady Most Kind herself. As initiates of the Lady, you will be exposed to Death the Transition and its consequences for the rest of your lives. You must grow accustomed to it. It is natural for living flesh to recoil from the presence of death, and from thoughts of death. Your discipline must overcome what is natural.\"\n\nAS WITH most Therin temples, initiates of the First Inner Mystery were mostly expected to train their scribing, sums, and rhetoric to the point that they could enter higher levels of study without distracting more advanced initiates. Jean, with his advantages in age and training, was inducted into the Second Inner Mystery a bare month and a half after arrival.\n\n\"Henceforth,\" said the priest conducting the ceremony, \"you will conceal your faces. You will have no features of boy or girl, manor woman. The priesthood of the Lady Most Kind has only one face, and that face is inscrutable. We must not be seen as individuals, as fellowmen and women. The office of the Death Goddess' servants must disquiet if those we minister to are to compose their thoughts to her properly.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Sorrowful Visage was the silver mask of the order of Aza Guilla; for initiates, it bore a crude resemblance to a human face, with a rough indentation for the nose and holes for the eyes and mouth. For full priests, it was a slightly ovoid hemisphere of fine silver mesh. Jean donned his Sorrowful Visage, eager to get to work cataloguing more secrets of the order, only to discover that his duties were little changed from his month as an initiate of the First Inner Mystery. He still carried messages and scribed scrolls, swept floors and scoured the kitchens, still scurried up and down the precarious rock ladders beneath the Bells of the Twelve, with the unfriendly sea crashing far below and the wind tugging at his robes.\n\nOnly now he had the honor of doing all these things in his silver mask, with his peripheral vision partly blocked. Two more initiates of the Second Inner Mystery fell to a firsthand acquaintance with Death the Transition shortly after Jean's elevation.\n\nAbout a month after that, Jean was poisoned for the first time.\n\n\"CLOSER AND closer,\" said the priestess, whose voice seemed muffled and distant. \"Closer and closer to Death the Transition, to the very edge of the mystery-feel your limbs growing cold. Feel your thoughts slowing. Feel the beating of your heart growing sluggish. The warm humors are banking down; the fire of life is fading.\"\n\nShe had given them some sort of green wine, a poison that Jean could not identify; each of the dozen initiates of the Second Inner Mystery in his morning class lay prostrated and twitching feebly, their silver masks staring fixedly upward, as they could no longer move their necks.\n\nTheir instructor hadn't quite managed to explain what the wine would do before she ordered them to drink it; Jean suspected that the willingness of the initiates around him to dance gaily on the edge of Death the Transition was still more theory than actuality." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Of course, look who knows so much better, he thought to himself as he marveled at how tingly and distant his legs had become. Crooked Warden... this priesthood is crazy. Give me strength to live, and I'll return to the Gentlemen Bastards... where life makes sense.\n\nYes, where he lived in a secret Elderglass cellar beneath a rotting temple, pretending to be a priest of Perelandro while taking weapons lessons from the duke's personal swordmaster. Perhaps a bit drunk on whatever drug was having its way with him, Jean giggled.\n\nThe sound seemed to echo and reverberate in the low-ceilinged study hall; the priestess turned slowly. The Sorrowful Visage concealed her true expression, but in his drug-hazed mind Jean was certain he could feel her burning stare.\n\n\"An insight, Tavrin?\"\n\nHe couldn't help himself; he giggled again. The poison seemed to be making merry with the tight-lipped inhibition he'd feigned since arriving at the temple. \"I saw my parents burn to death,\" he said. \"I saw my cats burn to death. Do you know the noise a cat makes, when it burns?\" Another damn giggle; he almost choked on his own spit in surprise. \"I watched and could do nothing. Do you know whereto stab a man, to bring death now, or death in a minute, or death in an hour? I do.\" He would have been rolling with laughter, if he could move his limbs; as it was, he shuddered and twitched his fingers. \"Lingering death? Two or three days of pain? I can give that, too. Ha! Death the Transition? We're old friends!\"\n\nThe priestess'mask fixed directly on him; she stared for several drug-lengthened moments while Jean thought, Oh, gods damn this stuff, I've really done it now." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Tavrin,\" said the priestess, \"when the effects of the emerald wine have passed, remain here. The High Proctor will speak to you then.\"\n\nJean lay in mingled bemusement and dread for the rest of the morning. The giggles still came, interspersed with bouts of drunken self-loathing. So much fora full season of work. Some false-facer I turned out to be.\n\nThat night, much to his surprise, he was confirmed as having passed into the Third Inner Mystery of Aza Guilla.\n\n\"I knew we could expect exceptional things from you, Callas,\" said the High Proctor, a bent old man whose voice wheezed behind his Sorrowful Visage. \"First the extraordinary diligence you showed in your mundane studies, and your rapid mastery of the exterior rituals. Now, a vision... a vision during your very first Anguishment. You are marked, marked! An orphan who witnessed the death of his mother and father... You were fated to serve the Lady Most Kind.\"\n\n\"What, ah, are the additional duties of an initiate of the Third Inner Mystery?\"\n\n\"Why, Anguishment,\" said the High Proctor. \"A month of Anguishment; a month of exploration into Death the Transition. You shall take the emerald wine once again, and then you shall experience other means of closeness to the precipitous moment of the Lady's embrace. You shall hang from silk until nearly dead; you shall be exsanguinated. You shall take up serpents, and you shall swim in the night ocean, wherein dwell many servants of the Lady. I envy you, little brother. I envy you, newly born to our mysteries.\"\n\nJean fled Revelation House that very night.\n\nHe packed his meager bag of belongings and raided the kitchens for food. Before entering Revelation House, he'd buried a small bag of coins beneath a certain landmark about a mile inland from the cliffs, near the village of Sorrow's Ease, which supplied the cliffside temple's material wants. That money should suffice to get him back to Camorr." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He scrawled a note and left it on his sleeping pallet, in the fresh new solitary chamber accorded to him for his advanced rank:\n\nHe climbed the stone stairs for the last time, as the waves crashed in the darkness below; the soft red glow of alchemical storm-lamps guided him to the top of Revelation House, and thence to the top of the cliffs, where he vanished unseen into the night.\n\n\"DAMN,\" SAID Galdo, when Jean had finished his tale. \"I'm glad I got sent to the Order of Sendovani.\"\n\nThe night of Jean's return, after Father Chains had grilled Jean in depth on his experiences at Revelation House, he'd let the four boys head up to the roof with clay mugs of warm Camorri ale. They sat out beneath the stars and the scattered silver clouds, sipping their ale with much-exaggerated casualness. They savored the illusion that they were men, gathered of their own accord, with the hours of the night theirs to spend entirely at their own whim.\n\n\"No shit,\" said Calo. \"In the Order of Gandolo, we got pastries and ale every second week, and a copper piece every Idler's Day, to spend as we wished. You know, for the Lord of Coin and Commerce.\"\n\n\"I'm particularly fond of our priesthood of the Benefactor,\" said Locke,\n\n\"since our main duties seem to be sitting around and pretending that the Benefactor doesn't exist. When we're not stealing things, that is.\"\n\n\"Too right,\" said Galdo. \"Death-priesting is for morons.\"\n\n\"But still,\" asked Calo, \"didn't you wonder if they might not be right?\" He sipped his ale before continuing. \"That you might really be fated to serve the Lady Most Kind?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I had along time to think about it, on the way back to Camorr,\" said Jean." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And I think they were right. Just maybe not the way they thought.\"\n\n\"How do you mean?\" The Sanzas spoke in unison, as they often did when true curiosity seized the pair of them at once.\n\nIn reply, Jean reached behind his back, and from out of his tunic he drew a single hatchet, a gift from Don Maranzalla. It was plain and unadorned, but well maintained and ideally balanced for someone who'd not yet come into his full growth. Jean set it on the stones of the temple roof and smiled.\n\n\"Oh,\" said Calo and Galdo." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "WHEN LOCKE AWOKE, he was lying on his back and looking up at a fading, grime-covered mural painted on a plaster ceiling. The mural depicted carefree men and women in the robes of the Therin Throne era, gathered around a cask of wine, with cups in their hands and smiles on their rosy faces. Locke groaned and closed his eyes again.\n\n\"And here he is,\" said an unfamiliar voice, \"just as I said. It was the poultice that answered for him; most uncommonly good physik for the enervation of the bodily channels.\"\n\n\"Who the hell might you be?\" Locke found himself in a profoundly undiplomatic temper. \"And where am I?\"\n\n\"You're safe, though I wouldn't go so far as to say comfortable.\" Jean Tannen rested a hand on Locke's left shoulder and smiled down at him. Usually rather fastidious, he was now several days unshaven, and his face was streaked with dirt. \"And some former patients of the renowned Master Ibelius might also take issue with my pronouncement of safety.\"\n\nJean made a quick pair of hand gestures to Locke: We're safe; speak freely.\n\n\"Tut, Jean, your little cuts are fine repayment for the work of the past few days.\" The unfamiliar voice, it seemed, came from a wrinkled, birdlike man with skin like a weathered brown tabletop. His nervous dark eyes peeped out from behind thick optics, thicker than any Locke had ever seen. He wore a disreputable cotton tunic, spattered with what might have been dried sauces or dried blood, under a mustard-yellow waistjacket in a style twenty years out of date. His spring-coils of curly gray hair seemed to sprout straight out from the back of his head, where they were pulled into a queue. \"I have navigated your friend back to the shores of consciousness.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Oh, for Perelandro's sake, Ibelius, he didn't have a crossbow quarrel in his brain." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He just needed to rest.\"\n\n\"His warm humors were at a singularly low ebb; the channels of his frame were entirely evacuated of vim. He was pale, unresponsive, bruised, desiccated, and malnourished.\"\n\n\"Ibelius?\" Locke attempted to sit up and was partially successful; Jean caught him by the back of his shoulders and helped him the rest of the way. The room spun. \"Ibelius the dog-leech from the Redwater district?\"\n\nDog-leeches were the medical counterparts of the black alchemists; without credentials or a place in the formal guilds of physikers, they treated the injuries and maladies of the Right People of Camorr. A genuine physiker might look askance at treating a patient for an axe wound at half past the second hour of the morning, and summon the city watch. A dog-leech would ask no questions, provided his fee was paid in advance.\n\nThe trouble with dog-leeches, of course, was that one took one's chances with their abilities and credentials. Some really were trained healers, fallen on hard times or banished from the profession for crimes such as grave-robbing. Others were merely improvisers, applying years\" worth of practical knowledge acquired tending to the results of bar fights and muggings. A few were entirely mad, or homicidal, or-charmingly-both.\n\n\"My colleagues are dog-leeches,\" sniffed Ibelius. \"I am a physiker, Collegium-trained. Your own recovery is a testament to that.\"\n\nLocke glanced around the room. He was lying (wearing nothing but a breechclout) on a pallet in a corner of what must have been an abandoned Ashfall villa. A canvas curtain hungover the room's only door; two orange-white alchemical lanterns filled the space with light. Locke's throat was dry, his body still ached, and he smelled rather unpleasant-not all of it was the natural odor of an unwashed man. A strange translucent residue flaked off his stomach and sternum. He poked at it with his fingers." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What,\" said Locke, \"is this crap on my chest?\"\n\n\"The poultice, sir. Varagnelli's Poultice, to be precise, though I hardly presume your familiarity with the subject. I employed it to concentrate the waning energy of your bodily channels; to confine the motion of your warm humors in the region where it would do you the most good. To wit, your abdomen. We did not want your energy to dissipate.\"\n\n\"What was in it?\"\n\n\"The poultice is a proprietary conglomeration, but the essence of its function is provided by the admixture of the gardener's assistant and turpentine.\"\n\n\"Gardener's assistant?\"\n\n\"Earthworms,\" said Jean. \"He means earthworms ground in turpentine.\"\n\n\"And you let him smear it allover me?\" Locke groaned and sank back down onto the pallet.\n\n\"Only your abdomen, sir-your much-abused abdomen.\"\n\n\"He's the physiker,\" said Jean. \"I'm only good at breaking people; I don't put them back together.\"\n\n\"What happened tome, anyway?\"\n\n\"Enervation-absolute enervation, as thorough as I've ever seen it.\" Ibelius lifted Locke's left wrist while he spoke and felt fora pulse. \"Jean told me that you took an emetic, the evening of Duke's Day.\"\n\n\"Did I ever!\"\n\n\"And that you ate and drank nothing afterward. That you were then seized, and severely beaten, and nearly slain by immersion in a cask of horse urine-how fantastically vile, sir, you have my sympathies. And that you had received a deep wound to your left forearm; a wound that is now scabbing over nicely, no thanks to your ordeals. And that you remained active all evening despite your injuries and your exhaustion. And that you pursued your course with the utmost dispatch, taking no rest.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sounds vaguely familiar.\"\n\n\"You simply collapsed, sir. In layman's terms, your body revoked its permission for you to continue heaping abuse upon it.\" Ibelius chuckled.\n\n\"How long have I been here?\"\n\n\"Two days and two nights,\" said Jean.\n\n\"What? Gods damn me. Out cold the whole time?\"\n\n\"Quite,\" said Jean. \"I watched you fall over; I wasn't thirty yards away, crouched in hiding. Took me a few minutes to realize why the bearded old beggar looked familiar.\"\n\n\"I have kept you somewhat sedated,\" said Ibelius. \"For your own good.\"\n\n\"Gods damn it!\"\n\n\"Clearly, my judgment was sound, as you would have had no will to rest otherwise. And it made it easier to use a series of fairly unpleasant poultices to greatly reduce the swelling and bruising of your face. Had you been awake, you surely would have complained of the smell.\"\n\n\"Argh,\" said Locke. \"Tell me you have something at hand I can drink, at least.\"\n\nJean passed him a skin of red wine; it was warm and sour and watered to the point that it was more pink than red, but Locke drank half of it down in a rapid series of undignified gulps.\n\n\"Have a care, Master Lamora, have a care,\" said Ibelius. \"I fear you have little conception of your own natural limitations. Make him take the soup, Jean. He needs to regain his animal strength, or his humors will fade again. He is far too thin for his own good; he is fast approaching anemia.\"\n\nLocke devoured the proffered soup (boiled shark in a milk-and-potato stew; bland, congealed, many hours past freshness, and positively the most splendid thing he could recall ever having tasted), and then stretched. \"Two days, gods. I don't suppose we've been lucky enough to have Capa Raza fall down some stairs and break his neck?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hardly,\" said Jean. \"He's still with us. Him and his Bondsmage. They've been very busy, those two. It might interest you to know that the Gentlemen Bastards are formally outcast, and I'm presumed alive, worth five hundred crowns to the man that brings me in. Preferably after I stop breathing.\"\n\n\"Hmmm,\" said Locke. \"Dare I ask, Master Ibelius, what keeps you here smearing earthworms on my behalf when either of us is your key to Capa Raza's monetary favor?\"\n\n\"I can explain that,\" said Jean. \"Seems there was another Ibelius, who worked for Barsavi as one of his Floating Grave guards. A loyal Barsavi man, I should say.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Locke. \"My condolences, Master Ibelius. A brother?\"\n\n\"My younger brother. The poor idiot; I kept telling him to find another line of work. It seems we have a great deal of common sorrow, courtesy of Capa Raza.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Locke. \"Yes, Master Ibelius. I'm going to put that fucker in the dirt as deeply as any man who's ever been murdered, ever since the world began.\"\n\n\"Ahhh,\" said Ibelius. \"So Jean says. And that's why I'm not even charging for my services. I cannot say I think highly of your chances, but any enemy of Capa Raza is most welcome to my care, and to my discretion.\"\n\n\"Too kind,\" said Locke. \"I suppose if I must have earthworms and turpentine smeared on my chest, I'm very happy to have you... ah, overseeing the affair.\"\n\n\"Your servant, sir,\" said Ibelius." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Well, Jean,\" said Locke, \"we seem to have a hiding place, a physiker, and the two of us." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What are our other assets?\"\n\n\"Ten crowns, fifteen solons, five coppers,\" said Jean. \"That cot you're lying on. You ate the wine and drank the soup. I've got the Wicked Sisters, of course. A few cloaks, some boots, your clothes. And all the rotting plaster and broken masonry a man could dream of.\"\n\n\"And that's it?\"\n\n\"Yes, except for one small thing.\" Jean held up the silver mesh mask of a priest of Aza Guilla. \"The aid and comfort of the Lady of the Long Silence.\"\n\n\"How the hell did you arrange that?\"\n\n\"Right after I dropped you off at the edge of the Cauldron,\" said Jean, \"I decided to row back to the Temple District and make myself useful.\"\n\nTHE FIRE within the House of Perelandro had yet to finish burning when Jean Tannen threw himself down, half-dressed, at the service entrance to the House of Aza Guilla, two squares northeast of the temple the Gentlemen Bastards had called their home.\n\nElderglass and stone could not burn, of course, but the contents of the House of Perelandro were another matter. With the Elderglass reflecting and concentrating the heat of the flames, everything within the burrow would be scorched to white ash, and the rising heat would certainly do for the contents of the actual temple. A bucket brigade of yellowjackets milled around the upper temple, with little to do but wait for the heat and the hideous death-scented smoke to cease boiling out from the doors.\n\nJean banged a fist on the latched wooden door behind the Death Goddess'temple and prayed for the Crooked Warden's aid in maintaining the Verrari accent he had too rarely practiced in recent months. He knelt down, to make himself seem more pathetic." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After a few minutes, there was a click, and the door slid open a fraction of an inch. An initiate, in unadorned black robes and a simple silver mask, so familiar to Jean, stared down at him.\n\n\"My name is Tavrin Callas,\" said Jean. \"I require your aid.\"\n\n\"Are you dying?\" asked the initiate. \"We can do little for those still in good health. If you require food and succor, I would suggest the House of Perelandro, although there seem to be... difficulties, this evening.\"\n\n\"I'm not dying, and I do require food and succor. I am abound servant of the Lady Most Kind, an initiate of the Fifth Inner Mystery.\"\n\nJean had judged this lie carefully; the fourth rank of the order of Aza Guilla was full priesthood. The fifth would be a realistic level for someone assigned to courier important business from city to city. Any higher rank, and he would be forced to deal with senior priests and priestesses who should have heard of him.\n\n\"I was dispatched from Tal Verrar to Jeresh on the business of our order, but along the way my ship was taken by Jeremite raiders. They took my robes, my seals of office, my papers, and my Sorrowful Visage.\"\n\n\"What?\" The initiate, a girl, bent down to help Jean up. She was a quarter of his weight, and the effort was slightly comical. \"They dared interfere with an envoy of the Lady?\"\n\n\"The Jeremites do not keep the faith of the Twelve, little sister,\" said Jean, who allowed himself to be dragged up to his knees. \"They delight in tormenting the pious. I was chained to an oar for many long days. Last night, the galley that captured me weighed anchor in Camorr Bay; I was assigned to dumping chamber pots over the side while the officers went ashore to debauch themselves. I saw the fins of our Dark Brothers in the water; I prayed to the Lady and seized my opportunity.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One thing the brothers and sisters of Aza Guilla rarely advertised to outsiders (especially in Camorr) was their belief that sharks were beloved of the Goddess of Death, and that their mysterious comings and goings and their sudden brutal attacks were a perfect encapsulation of the nature of the Lady Most Kind. Sharks were powerful omens to the silver-masked priesthood. The High Proctor of Revelation House had not been joking with his suggestion that Jean feel free to swim in the ocean after dark. Only the faithless, it was said, would be attacked in the waters beneath Revelation House.\n\n\"The Dark Brothers,\" said the initiate with rising excitement. \"And did they aid you in your escape?\"\n\n\"You mustn't think of it as aid,\" said Jean, \"for the Lady does not aid, she allows. And so it is with the Dark Brothers. I dove into the water and felt their presence around me; I felt them swimming beneath my feet, and I saw their fins cutting the surface of the water. My captors screamed that I was mad; when they saw the Brothers, they assumed that I was soon to be devoured, and they laughed. I laughed, too-when I crawled up onto the shore, unharmed.\"\n\n\"Praise the Lady, Brother.\"\n\n\"I do, I have, and I shall,\" said Jean. \"She has delivered me from our enemies; she has given me a second chance to fulfill my mission. I pray, take me to the steward of your temple. Let me meet with your Father or Mother Divine. I need only a Visage, and robes, and a room for several nights while I put my affairs in order.\"\n\n\"WASN'T THAT the name you apprenticed under,\" said Locke, \"all those years ago?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It was indeed.\"\n\n\"Well, won't they send messages? Won't they make inquiries and find out that Tavrin Callas was moved by divine curiosity to fling himself off a cliff?\"\n\n\"Of course they will,\" said Jean. \"But it'll take weeks to send one and get a reply... and I don't mean to keep the disguise for quite that long. Besides, it'll be a bit of fun for them. When they eventually discover Callas is supposed to be dead, they can proclaim all sorts of visions and miracles. A manifestation from beyond the shadelands, as it were.\"\n\n\"A manifestation straight from the ass of a magnificent liar,\" said Locke. \"Well done, Jean.\"\n\n\"I suppose I just know how to talk to death priests. We all have our little gifts.\"\n\n\"I say,\" interrupted Ibelius, \"is this wise? This... flaunting of the robes of office of the priests of the Death Goddess herself? Tweaking the nose of... of the Lady Most Kind?\" Ibelius touched his eyes with both hands, then his lips, and then entwined his fingers over his heart.\n\n\"If the Lady Most Kind wished to take offense,\" said Jean, \"she has had ample opportunity to crush me flatter than gold leaf for my presumptions.\"\n\n\"Furthermore,\" said Locke, \"Jean and I are sworn into the divine service of the Benefactor, Father of Necessary Pretexts. Do you hold with the Crooked Warden, Master Ibelius?\"\n\n\"It never hurts to have a care, in my experience. Perhaps I do not light hearth candles or give coin, but... I do not speak unkindly of the Benefactor.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Locke, \"our mentor once told us that the initiates of the Benefactor are strangely immune to consequences when they find they must pass as members of other priesthoods.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Made to feel strangely welcome, I'd say,\" added Jean." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And, in the present circumstances, there are precious few practical disguises fora man of my size.\"\n\n\"Ah. I do see your point, Jean.\"\n\n\"It seems that the Death Goddess has been very busy of late,\" said Locke, \"with a great many people other than ourselves. I'm quite awake now, Jean, and very comfortable, Master Ibelius. No need to getup-I'm quite positive my pulse is right where I left it, safe inside my wrist. What else can you tell me, Jean?\"\n\n\"The situation is tense and bloody, but I'd say Capa Raza's carried it. Word's out that all of us are dead, except myself, with that pretty price on my head. Supposedly, we refused to swear allegiance to Raza and tried to fightback on Barsavi's behalf, and were justly slain in the process. All the other garristas are sworn; Raza didn't wait three days before he hit. The most recalcitrant got their throats slit tonight; five or six of them. Happened a few hours ago.\"\n\n\"Gods. Where do you hear this from?\"\n\n\"Some from Ibelius, who can get around a bit provided he keeps his head down. Some from ministering. I happened to be in the Wooden Waste when a lot of people suddenly turned up needing death prayers.\"\n\n\"The Right People are in Raza's pockets, then.\"\n\n\"I'd say so. They're getting used to the situation. Everyone's like to pull knives at the drop of a pin or the bite of a mosquito, but he's got them coming round. He's operating out of the Floating Grave, same as Barsavi did. He's keeping most of his promises. It's hard to argue with stability.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And what about our... other concern?\" Locke made the hand gesture for Thorn of Camorr. \"Heard anything about that? Any, ah, cracks in the facade?\"\n\n\"No,\" whispered Jean. \"Seems like Raza was content to kill us off as sneak thieves and leave us that way.\"\n\nLocke sighed in relief.\n\n\"But there's other strangeness afoot,\" said Jean. \"Raza hauled in about half a dozen men and women last night, from different gangs and different districts. Publicly named them as agents of the Spider.\"\n\n\"Really? You think they were, or is it another damn scheme of some sort?\"\n\n\"I think it's likely they were,\" said Jean. \"I got the names from Ibelius, and I had a good long ponder, and there's just nothing linking them all. Nothing that signifies tome, anyway. So, Raza spared their lives, but exiled them. Said they had a day to put their affairs in order and leave Camorr for good.\"\n\n\"Interesting. I wish I knew what it meant.\"\n\n\"Maybe nothing, for once.\"\n\n\"That would certainly be pleasant.\"\n\n\"And the plague ship, Master Lamora!\" Ibelius spoke up eagerly. \"A singular vessel. Jean has neglected to speak of it so far.\"\n\n\"Plague ship?\"\n\n\"A black-hulled vessel from Emberlain; a sleek little piece of business. Beautiful as all hell, and you know I barely know which part of a ship goes in the water.\" Jean scratched his stubble-shadowed chin before continuing. \"It pulled into plague anchorage the very night that Capa Raza gave Capa Barsavi his own teeth lessons.\"\n\n\"That's a very interesting coincidence.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Isn't it? The gods do love their omens. Supposedly, there's twenty or thirty dead already. But here's the very odd part. Capa Raza has assumed responsibility for the charitable provisioning.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Yes. His men escort the proceedings down to the docks; he's giving coin to the Order of Sendovani for bread and meat. They're filling in for the Order of Perelandro since, well, you know.\"\n\n\"Why the hell would his men escort food and water down to the docks?\"\n\n\"I was curious about that myself,\" said Jean. \"So last night I tried to poke around a bit, in my official priestly capacity, you see. It's not just food and water they're sending out.\"\n\nTHE SOFTEST rain was falling, little more than a warm wet kiss from the sky, on the night of Throne's Day-the night following the ascension of Capa Raza. An unusually stocky priest of Aza Guilla, with his wet robes fluttering in the breeze, stood staring out at the plague ship moored in Camorr Bay. By the yellow glow of the ship's lamps, it seemed that the priest's mask glowed golden bronze.\n\nA decrepit little boat was bobbing in the gentle water beside the very longest dock that jutted out from the Dregs; the boat, in turn, had a rope leading out to the plague ship. The Satisfaction, anchored out at the edge of bow-shot, was looking strangely skeletal with its sails tightly furled. A few shadowy men could be seen here and thereon the ship's deck.\n\nOn the dock, a small team of burly stevedores was unloading the contents of a donkey-cart into the little boat, under the watch of half a dozen cloaked men and women, obviously armed. No doubt the entire operation could be seen by looking-glass from any of the guard stations surrounding Old Harbor. While most of those stations were still manned (and would stay that way, as long as the plague ship remained), not one of them would much care what was sent out to the ship, provided nothing at all was sent back." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "As the author's co-writer, advance the plot.\nTags: fantasy, heist, crime\nAuthor: Scott Lynch\nTitle: The Lies of Locke Lamora\nChapter: 24" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Isn't it? The gods do love their omens. Supposedly, there's twenty or thirty dead already. But here's the very odd part. Capa Raza has assumed responsibility for the charitable provisioning.\"\n\n\"What?\"\n\n\"Yes. His men escort the proceedings down to the docks; he's giving coin to the Order of Sendovani for bread and meat. They're filling in for the Order of Perelandro since, well, you know.\"\n\n\"Why the hell would his men escort food and water down to the docks?\"\n\n\"I was curious about that myself,\" said Jean. \"So last night I tried to poke around a bit, in my official priestly capacity, you see. It's not just food and water they're sending out.\"\n\nTHE SOFTEST rain was falling, little more than a warm wet kiss from the sky, on the night of Throne's Day-the night following the ascension of Capa Raza. An unusually stocky priest of Aza Guilla, with his wet robes fluttering in the breeze, stood staring out at the plague ship moored in Camorr Bay. By the yellow glow of the ship's lamps, it seemed that the priest's mask glowed golden bronze.\n\nA decrepit little boat was bobbing in the gentle water beside the very longest dock that jutted out from the Dregs; the boat, in turn, had a rope leading out to the plague ship. The Satisfaction, anchored out at the edge of bow-shot, was looking strangely skeletal with its sails tightly furled. A few shadowy men could be seen here and thereon the ship's deck.\n\nOn the dock, a small team of burly stevedores was unloading the contents of a donkey-cart into the little boat, under the watch of half a dozen cloaked men and women, obviously armed. No doubt the entire operation could be seen by looking-glass from any of the guard stations surrounding Old Harbor. While most of those stations were still manned (and would stay that way, as long as the plague ship remained), not one of them would much care what was sent out to the ship, provided nothing at all was sent back." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean, on the other hand, was very curious about Capa Raza's sudden interest in the welfare of the poor seafarers from Emberlain.\n\n\"Look, best just turn right around and get your ass back... oh. Ah, beg pardon, Your Holiness.\"\n\nJean took a moment to savor the obvious disquiet on the faces of the men and women who turned at his approach; they seemed like tough lads and lasses, proper bruisers, seasoned in giving and taking pain. Yet the sight of his Sorrowful Visage made them look as guilty as children caught hovering too close to the honey crock.\n\nHe didn't recognize any of them; that meant they were almost certainly part of Raza's private gang. He tried to size them up with a glance, looking for anything incongruous or unusual that might shed light on their point of origin, but there was very little. They wore a great deal of jewelry; earrings, mostly-seven or eight of them per ear in one young woman's case. That was a fashion more nautical than criminal, but it still might not mean anything.\n\n\"I merely came to pray,\" said Jean, \"for the intercession of the Lady Most Kind with those unfortunates out thereon the water. Pay me no heed, and do continue with your labors.\"\n\nJean encouraged them by putting his back mostly to the gang of laborers; he stood staring out at the ship, listening very carefully to the sounds of the work going on beside him. There were grunts of lifting and the tread of footfalls; the creaking of weathered, water-eaten boards. The donkey-cart had looked to be full of little sacks, each about the size of a one-gallon wineskin. For the most part, the crew handled them gingerly, but after a few minutes-" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Gods damn it, Mazzik!\" There was a strange clattering, clinking noise as one of the sacks hit the dock. The overseer of the labor gang immediately wrung his hands and looked over at Jean. \"I, uh, begging your pardon, Your Holiness. We, uh, we swore... we promised we would, uh, see these supplies safely to the plague ship.\"\n\nJean turned slowly and let the man have the full, drawn-out effect of his faceless regard. Then he nodded, ever so slightly. \"It is a penitent thing you do. Your master is most charitable to undertake the work that would ordinarily fall to the Order of Perelandro.\"\n\n\"Yeah, uh... that really was too bad. Quite the, uh, tragedy.\"\n\n\"The Lady Most Kind tends the mortal garden as she will,\" said Jean, \"and plucks what blossoms she will. Don't be angry with your man. It's only natural, to be discomfited in the presence of something... so unusual.\"\n\n\"Oh, the plague ship,\" said the man. \"Yeah, it, uh, gives us all the creeps.\"\n\n\"I shall leave you to your work,\" said Jean. \"Call for us at the House of Aza Guilla if the men aboard that ship should chance to need us.\"\n\n\"Uh... sure. Th-thank you, Your Holiness.\"\n\nAs Jean walked slowly along the dock, back toward shore, the crew finished loading the small boat, which was then unlashed from its mooring.\n\n\"Haul away,\" bellowed one of the men at the end of the dock.\n\nSlowly, the rope tautened, and then as the little black silhouettes aboard the Satisfaction picked up the rhythm of their work, the boat began to draw across Old Harbor toward the frigate at good speed, leaving a wavering silver wake on the dark water." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean strolled north into the Dregs, using the dignified pace of a priest to give himself time to roll one question over and over in his mind.\n\nWhat could a ship full of dead and dying men reasonably do with bags of coins?\n\n\"BAGS OF coins? You're absolutely sure?\"\n\n\"It was cold spending metal, Locke. You may recall we had a whole vault full of it, until recently. I'd say we both have a pretty keen ear for the sound of coins on coins.\"\n\n\"Hmmm. So unless the duke's started minting full crowns in bread since I fell ill, those provisions areas charitable as my gods-damned mood.\"\n\n\"I'll keep nosing about and see if I can turn anything else up.\"\n\n\"Good, good. Now we need to haul me out of this bed and get me working on something.\"\n\n\"Master Lamora,\" cried Ibelius, \"you are in no shape to be out of bed, and moving around under your own volition! It is your own volition that has brought you to this enervated state.\"\n\n\"Master Ibelius, with all due respect, now that I am conscious, if I have to crawl about the city on my hands and my knees to do something useful against Capa Raza, I will. I start my war from here.\"\n\nHe heaved himself up off the sleeping pallet and tried to stand; once again, his head swam, his knees buckled, and he toppled to the ground.\n\n\"From there?\" said Jean. \"Looks damned uncomfortable.\"\n\n\"Ibelius,\" said Locke, \"this is intolerable. I must be able to move about. I require my strength back.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My dear Master Lamora,\" said Ibelius, reaching down to help pick Locke up. Jean took Locke's other side, and the two of them soon had him back atop the sleeping pallet. \"You are learning that what you require and what your frame may endure can be two very different things. If only I could have a solon for every patient who came tome speaking as you do!\"Ibelius, I have smoked Jeremite powders for twenty years and now my throat bleeds, make me well! \"\"Ibelius, I have been drunk and brawling all night, and now my eye has been cutout! Restore my vision, damn you. ' Why, let us not speak of solons, let us instead say a copper baron per such outburst... I could still retire to Lashain a gentleman!\"\n\n\"I can do precious little harm to Capa Raza with my face planted in the dust of this hovel,\" said Locke, his temper flaring once again.\n\n\"Then rest, sir; rest,\" snapped Ibelius, his own color rising. \"Have the grace not to lash your tongue at me for failing to carry the power of the gods about in my fingertips! Rest, and regain your strength. Tomorrow, when it is safe to move about, I shall bring you more food; a restored appetite will be a welcome sign. With food and rest, you may achieve an acceptable level of vigor in but a day or two. You cannot expect to skip lightly away from what you've endured. Have patience.\"\n\nLocke sighed. \"Very well. I just... I ache to be about the business of keeping Capa Raza's reign short.\"\n\n\"And I yearn to have you about it as well, Master Lamora.\" Ibelius removed his optics and polished them against his tunic. \"If I thought you could slay him now, with little more strength in you than a half-drowned kitten, why, I'd put you in a basket and carry you to him myself. But that is not the case, and no poultice in my books of physik could make it so.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Listen to Master Ibelius, Locke, and quit sulking.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean gave him a pat on the shoulder. \"Look on this as a chance to exercise your mind. I'll gather what further information I can, and I'll be your strong arm. You give me a plan to trip that fucker up and send him to hell. For Calo, Galdo, and Bug.\"\n\nBY THE next night, Locke had recovered enough of his strength to pace about the room under his own power. His muscles felt like jelly, and his limbs moved as though they were being controlled from a very great distance-the messages transmitted by heliograph, perhaps, before being translated into movements of joint and sinew. But he no longer fell on his face when he stood up, and he'd eaten an entire pound of roast sausages, along with half a loaf of bread slathered in honey, since Ibelius had brought the food in the late afternoon.\n\n\"Master Ibelius,\" said Locke as the physiker counted off Locke's pulse for what Locke suspected must be the thirteen thousandth time. \"We are of alike size, you and I. Do you by chance have any coats in good care? With suitably matching breeches, vests, and gentleman's trifles?\"\n\n\"Ah,\" said Ibelius, \"I did have such things, after a fashion, but I fear... I fear Jean did not tell you...\"\n\n\"Ibelius is living with us here for the time being,\" said Jean. \"Around the corner, in one of the villa's other rooms.\"\n\n\"My chambers, from which I conducted my business, well...\" Ibelius scowled, and it seemed to Locke that a very fine fog actually formed behind his optics. \"They were burned, the morning after Raza's ascension. Those of us with blood ties to Barsavi's slain men... we have not been encouraged to remain in Camorr! There have already been several murders. I can still come and go, if I'm careful, but... I have lost most of my finer things, such as they were. And my patients. And my books! Yet another reason for me to earnestly desire that some harm should befall Raza.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Damnation,\" said Locke. \"Master Ibelius, might I beg just a few minutes alone with Jean? What we have to discuss is... well, it is of the utmost privacy, and for very good reason. You have my apologies.\"\n\n\"Hardly necessary, sir, hardly necessary.\" Ibelius rose from his seat and brushed plaster dust from his waistjacket. \"I shall conceal myself outside, until required. The night air will be invigorating for the actions of the capillaries; it will quite restore the full flush of my balanced humors.\"\n\nWhen he had gone, Locke ran his fingers through his greasy hair and groaned. \"Gods, I could do with a bath, but right now I'd take standing in the rain for half an hour. Jean, we need resources to take on Raza. The fucker took forty-five thousand crowns from us; here we sit with ten. I need to kick the Don Salvara game back into life, but I'm deathly afraid it's in tatters, what with me being out of it for these past few days.\"\n\n\"I doubt it,\" said Jean. \"I spent some coin the day before you woke up fora bit of stationery and some ink. I sent a note to the Salvaras by courier, from Graumann, stating that you'd be handling some very delicate business fora few days and might not be around.\"\n\n\"You did?\" Locke stared at him like a man who'd gone to the gallows only to have a pardon and a sack of gold coins handed to him at the last minute. \"You did? Gods bless your heart, Jean. I could kiss you, but you're as covered in muck as I am.\"\n\nLocke circled around the room furiously, or as close to furiously as he could manage, still jerking and stumbling as he was. Hiding in this damned hovel, suddenly torn away from the advantages he'd taken for granted for many years-no cellar, no vault full of coins, no Wardrobe, no Masque Box... no gang. Raza had taken everything." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Packed up with the coins from the vault had been a packet of papers and keys, wrapped in oilcloth. Those papers were documents of accounts at Meraggio's countinghouse for Lukas Fehrwight, Evante Eccari, and all the other false identities the Gentlemen Bastards had planted over the years. There were hundreds of crowns in those accounts, but without the documents, they were beyond mortal reach. In that packet, as well, were the keys to the Bowsprit Suite at the Tumblehome Inn, where extra clothing suitable to Lukas Fehrwight was neatly set out in a cedar-lined closet... locked away behind a clockwork box that no lock-charmer with ten times the skill Locke had ever possessed could tease open.\n\n\"Damn,\" said Locke. \"We can't get to anything. We need money, and we can get that from the Salvaras, but I can't go to them like this. I need gentleman's clothes, rose oil, trifles. Fehrwight has to look like Fehrwight, and I can't conjure him for ten crowns.\"\n\nIndeed, the clothes and accessories he'd worn when dressed as the Vadran merchant had easily come to forty full crowns-not the sort of sum he could simply tease out of pockets on the street. Also, the few tailors that catered to appropriately rarefied tastes had shops like fortresses, in the better parts of the city, where the yellowjackets prowled not in squads but in battalions.\n\n\"Son of a bitch,\" said Locke, \"but I am displeased. It all comes down to clothes. Clothes, clothes, clothes. What a ridiculous thing to be restrained by.\"\n\n\"You can have the ten crowns, for what it's worth. We can eat off the silver fora longtime.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Well,\" said Locke, \"that's something.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He heaved himself back down on the sleeping pallet and sat with his chin resting on both of his hands. His eyebrows and his mouth were turned down, in the same expression of aggrieved concentration Jean remembered from their years as boys. After a few minutes, Locke sighed and looked up at Jean.\n\n\"If I'm fit to move, I suppose I'll take seven or eight crowns and go out on the town tomorrow, then.\"\n\n\"Out on the town? You have a plan?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Locke. \"Not even a speck of one. Not the damnedest idea.\" He grinned weakly. \"But don't all of my better schemes start like this? I'll find an opening, somehow... and then I suppose I'll be rash.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It is said in Camorr that the difference between honest and dishonest commerce is that when an honest manor woman of business ruins someone, they don't have the courtesy to cut their throat to finish the affair.\n\nThis is, in some respects, a disservice to the traders, speculators, and money-lenders of Coin-Kisser's Row, whose exertions over the centuries have helped to draw the Therin city-states (all of them, not merely Camorr) up out of the ashes of the collapse of the Therin Throne and into something resembling energetic prosperity... for certain fortunate segments of the Therin population.\n\nThe scale of operations on Coin-Kisser's Row would set the minds of most small shopkeepers spinning. A merchant might move two stones on a counting-board in Camorr; sealed documents are then dispatched to Lashain, where four galleons crewed by three hundred souls take sail for the far northern port of Emberlain, their holds laden with goods that beggar description. Hundreds of merchant caravans are embarking and arriving across the continent on any given morning, on any given day, all of them underwritten and itemized by well-dressed men and women who weave webs of commerce across thousands of miles while sipping tea in the backrooms of countinghouses.\n\nBut there are also bandits, warned to be in places at certain times, to ensure that a caravan flying a certain merchant's colors will vanish between destinations. There are whispered conversations, recorded in no formal minutes, and money that changes hands with no formal entry in any ledger. There are assassins, and black alchemy, and quiet arrangements made with gangs. There is usury and fraud and insider speculation; there are hundreds of financial practices so clever and so arcane that they do not yet have common names-manipulations of coin and paper that would have Bondsmagi bowing at the waist in recognition of their devious subtlety." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Trade is all of these things, and in Camorr, when one speaks of business practices fair or foul, when one speaks of commerce on the grandest scale, one name leaps to mind above and before all others-the Meraggio.\n\nGiancana Meraggio is the seventh in his line; his family has owned and operated its countinghouse for nearly two and a half centuries. But in a sense the first name isn't important; it is always simply the Meraggio at Meraggio's. \"The Meraggio\" has become an office.\n\nThe Meraggio family made its original fortune from the sudden death of the popular Duke Stravoli of Camorr, who died of an ague while on a state visit to Tal Verrar. Nicola Meraggio, trader-captain of a relatively fast brig, outraced all other news of the duke's death back to Camorr, where she expended every last half-copper at her command to purchase and control the city's full stock of black mourning crepe. When this was resold at extortionate prices so the state funeral could take place in proper dignity, she sank some of the profits into a small coffeehouse on the canal-side avenue that would eventually be called (thanks largely to her family) Coin-Kisser's Row.\n\nAs though it were an outward manifestation of the family's ambitions, the building has never remained one size for very long. It expands suddenly at irregular intervals, consuming nearby structures, adding lodges and stories and galleries, spreading its walls like a baby bird slowly pushing its unhatched rivals from the nest.\n\nThe early Meraggios made their names as active traders and speculators; they were men and women who loudly proclaimed their ability to squeeze more profit from investors' funds than any of their rivals could. The third Meraggio of note, Ostavo Meraggio, famously sent out a gaily decorated boat each morning to throw fifty gold tyrins into the deepest part of Camorr Bay; he did this everyday without fail fora complete year. \"I can do this and still have more fresh profit at the end of any given day than anyone of my peers,\" he boasted." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The later Meraggios shifted the family's emphasis from investing coin to hoarding, counting, guarding, and loaning it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They were among the first to recognize the stable fortunes that could be had by becoming facilitators of commerce rather than direct participants. And so the Meraggio now sits at the heart of a centuries-old financial network that has effectively become the blood and sinews of the Therin city-states; his signature on apiece of parchment can carry as much weight as an army in the field or a squadron of warships on the seas.\n\nNot without reason is it sometimes said that in Camorr there are two dukes-Nicovante, the Duke of Glass, and Meraggio, the Duke of White Iron." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "LOCKE LAMORA STOOD before the steps of Meraggio's Countinghouse the next day, just as the huge Verrari water-clock inside the building's foyer chimed out the tenth hour of the morning. A sun shower was falling; gentle hot rain blown in beneath a sky that was mostly blue-white and clear. Traffic on the Via Camorrazza was at a high ebb, with cargo barges and passenger boats dueling for water space with the sort of enthusiasm usually reserved for battlefield maneuvers.\n\nOne of Jean's crowns had been broken up to furnish Locke (who still wore his gray hair and a false beard, trimmed down now to a modest goatee) with acceptably clean clothing in the fashion of a courier or scribe. While he certainly didn't look like a man of funds, he was the very picture of a respectable employee.\n\nMeraggio's Countinghouse was a four-story hybrid of two hundred years\" worth of architectural fads; it had columns, arched windows, facades of stone and lacquered wood alike, and external sitting galleries both decorative and functional. All these galleries were covered with silk awnings in the colors of Camorr's coins-brownish copper, yellowish gold, silver-gray, and milky white. There were a hundred Lukas Fehrwights insight even outside the place; a hundred men of business in lavishly tailored coats. Anyone of their ensembles was worth five years of pay to a common artisan or laborer.\n\nAnd if Locke set an unkind finger on so much as a coat sleeve, Meraggio's house guards would boil out the doors like bees from a shaken hive. It would be a race between them and the several squads of city watchmen pacing this side of the canal-the winner would get the honor of knocking his brains out through his ears with their truncheons." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Seven white iron crowns, twenty silver solons, and a few coppers jingled in Locke's coin purse. He was completely unarmed. He had only the vaguest idea of what he would door say if his very tentative plan went awry.\n\n\"Crooked Warden,\" he whispered, \"I'm going into this countinghouse, and I'm going to come outwith what I need. I'd like your aid. And if I don't get it, well, to hell with you. I'll come outwith what I need anyway.\"\n\nHead high, chin out, he began to mount the steps.\n\n\"PRIVATE MESSAGE for Koreander Previn,\" he told the guards on duty just inside the foyer as he ran a hand through his hair to sweep some of the water out of it. There were three of them, dressed in maroon velvet coats, black breeches, and black silk shirts; their gold-gilded buttons gleamed, but the grips on the long fighting knives and clubs sheathed at their belts were worn from practice.\n\n\"Previn, Previn...,\" muttered one of the guards as he consulted a leather-bound directory. \"Hmmm. Public gallery, fifty-five. I don't see anything about him not receiving walk-ins. You know where you're going?\"\n\n\"Been here before,\" said Locke.\n\n\"Right.\" The guard set down the directory and picked up a slate, which served as a writing board for the parchment atop it; the guard then plucked a quill from an inkwell on a little table. \"Name and district?\"\n\n\"Tavrin Callas,\" said Locke. \"North Corner.\"\n\n\"You write?\"\n\n\"No, sir.\"\n\n\"Just make your mark there, then.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The guard held out the slate while Locke scratched a big black X next to TEVRIN KALLUS. The guard's handwriting was better than his spelling.\n\n\"In with you, then,\" said the guard.\n\nThe main floor of Meraggio's Countinghouse-the public gallery-was afield of desks and counters, eight across and eight deep. Each heavy desk had a merchant, a money-changer, a lawscribe, a clerk, or some other functionary seated behind it; the vast majority also had clients sitting before them, talking earnestly or waiting patiently or arguing heatedly. The men and women behind those desks rented them from Meraggio's; some took them every working day of the week, while others could only afford to alternate days with partners. Sunlight poured down on the room through long clear skylights; the gentle patter of rain could be heard mingled with the furious babble of business.\n\nOn either side, four levels of brass-railed galleries rose up to the ceiling. Within the pleasantly darkened confines of these galleries, the more powerful, wealthy, and established business-folk lounged. They were referred to as members of Meraggio's, though the Meraggio shared no actual power with them, but merely granted them along list of privileges that set them above (both literally and figuratively) the men and women at work on the public floor.\n\nThere were guards in every corner of the building, relaxed but vigilant. Dashing about here and there were waiters in black jackets, black breeches, and long maroon waist-aprons. There was a large kitchen at the rear of Meraggio's, and a wine cellar that would have done any tavern proud. The affairs of the men and women at the countinghouse were often too pressing to waste time going out or sending out for food. Some of the private members lived at the place, for all intents and purposes, returning to their homes only to sleep and change clothes, and then only because Meraggio's closed its doors shortly after Falselight." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Moving with calm self-assurance, Locke found his way to the public gallery desk marked'55.\" Koreander Previn was a lawscribe who'd helped the Sanzas setup the perfectly legitimate accounts of Evante Eccari several years previously. Locke remembered him as having been a near match for his own size; he prayed to himself that the man hadn't developed a taste for rich food in the time since.\n\n\"Yes,\" said Previn, who thankfully remained as trim as ever, \"how can I help you?\"\n\nLocke considered the man's loosely tailored, open-front coat; it was pine green with yellow-gold trimmings on the flaring purple cuffs. The man had a good eye for fashionable cuts and was apparently as blind as a brass statue when it came to colors.\n\n\"Master Previn,\" said Locke, \"my name is Tavrin Callas, and I find myself possessed of a very singular problem, one that you may well be able to lay to rest-though I must warn you it is somewhat outside the purview of your ordinary duties.\"\n\n\"I'm a lawscribe,\" said Previn, \"and my time is usually measured, when I am sitting with a client. Do you propose to become one?\"\n\n\"What I propose,\" said Locke, \"would put no fewer than five full crowns in your pocket, perhaps as early as this afternoon.\" He passed a handover the edge of Previn's desk and caused a white iron crown to appear thereby legerdemain; his technique might have been a little bit shaky, but Previn was apparently unacquainted with the skill, for his eyebrows rose.\n\n\"I see. You do have my attention, Master Callas,\" said Previn.\n\n\"Good, good. I hope that I shall shortly have your earnest cooperation, as well. Master Previn, I am a representative of a trade combine that I would, in all honor, prefer not to name. Although I am Camorri-born, I live and workout of Talisham. I am scheduled tonight to dine with several very important contacts, one of them a don, to discuss the business matter I have been sent to Camorr to see through. I, ah... this is most embarrassing, but I fear I have been the victim of a rather substantial theft.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A theft, Master Callas? What do you mean?\"\n\n\"My wardrobe,\" said Locke. \"All of my clothing, and all of my belongings, were stolen while I slept. The tavern-master, why, confound the bastard, he claims that he can bear no responsibility for the crime, and he insists I must have left my door unlocked!\"\n\n\"I can recommend a solicitor that would suit, for such a case.\" Previn opened a desk drawer and began hunting through the parchments that lay within. \"You could bring the tavern-master before the Common Claims court at the Palace of Patience; it might take as little as five or six days, if you can get an officer of the watch to corroborate your story. And I can draw up all the documents necessary to-\"\n\n\"Master Previn, forgive me. That is a wise course of action; inmost other circumstances I would gladly pursue it, and ask you to draw out whatever forms were required. But I don't have five or six days; I fear I have only hours. The dinner, sir, is this evening, as I said.\"\n\n\"Hmmm,\" said Previn. \"Could you not reschedule the dinner? Surely your associates would understand, with you facing such an extremity.\"\n\n\"Oh, if only I could. But Master Previn, how am Ito appear before them, asking them to entrust tens of thousands of crowns to the ventures of my combine, when I cannot even be entrusted to vouchsafe my own wardrobe? I am... I am most embarrassed. I fear I shall lose this affair, let it slip entirely through my fingers. The don in question, he is... he is something of an eccentric. I fear he would not tolerate an irregularity such as my situation presents; I fear, if put off once, he would not desire to meet again.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Interesting, Master Callas." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Your concerns maybe... valid. I shall trust you to best judge the character of your associates. But how may I be of assistance?\"\n\n\"We are of alike size, Master Previn,\" said Locke. \"We are of alike size, and I very much appreciate your subtle eye for cuts and colors-you have a singular taste. What I propose is the loan of a suitable set of clothing, with the necessary trifles and accoutrements. I shall give you five crowns as an assurance for their care, and when I am finished with them and have returned them, you may keep the assurance.\"\n\n\"You, ah... you wish me to loan you some of my clothes?\"\n\n\"Yes, Master Previn, with all thanks for your consideration. The assistance would be immeasurable. My combine would not be ungrateful, I daresay.\"\n\n\"Hmmm.\" Previn closed the drawer of his desk and steepled his fingers beneath his chin, frowning. \"You propose to pay mean assurance worth about one-fourth of the clothing I would be loaning you, were you to be attending a dinner party with a don. One-fourth, at a minimum.\"\n\n\"I, ah, assure you, Master Previn, that with the sole exception of this unfortunate theft, I have always thought of myself as the soul of caution. I would look after your clothing as though my life depended upon it-indeed, it does. If these negotiations go amiss, I am likely to be out of ajob.\"\n\n\"This is... this is quite unusual, Master Callas. Quite an irregular thing to ask. What combine do you work for?\"\n\n\"I-I am embarrassed to say, Master Previn. For fear that my situation should reflect poorly on them. I am only trying to do my duty by them, you understand.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I do, I do, and yet it must be plain to you that no man could call himself wise who would give a stranger thirty crowns in exchange for five, without... something more than earnest assurances. I do beg your pardon, but that's the way it must be.\"\n\n\"Very well,\" said Locke. \"I am employed by the West Iron Sea Mercantile Combine, registered out of Tal Verrar.\"\n\n\"West Iron Sea Mercantile... hmmm.\" Previn opened another desk drawer and flipped through a small sheaf of papers. \"I have Meraggio's Directory for the current year, Seventy-eighth Year of Aza Guilla, and yet... Tal Verrar... there is no listing fora West Iron Sea Mercantile Combine.\"\n\n\"Ah, damn that old problem,\" said Locke. \"We were incorporated in the second month of the year; we are too new to be listed yet. It has been such a bother, believe me.\"\n\n\"Master Callas,\" said Previn, \"I sympathize with you, I truly do, but this situation is... you must forgive me, sir, this situation is entirely too irregular for my comfort. I fear that I cannot help you, but I pray you find some means of placating your business associates.\"\n\n\"Master Previn, I beg of you, please-\"\n\n\"Sir, this interview is at an end.\"\n\n\"Then I am doomed,\" said Locke. \"I am entirely without hope. I do beseech you, sir, to reconsider...\"\n\n\"I am a lawscribe, Master Callas, not a clothier. This interview is over; I wish you good fortune, and a good day.\"\n\n\"Is there nothing I can say that would at least raise the possibility of-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Previn picked up a small brass bell that sat on one edge of his desk; he rang it three times, and guards began to appear out of the nearby crowd." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke palmed his white iron piece from the desktop and sighed.\n\n\"This man is to be escorted from the grounds,\" said Previn when one of Meraggio's guards set a gauntleted hand on Locke's shoulder. \"Please show him every courtesy.\"\n\n\"Certainly, Master Previn. As for you, right this way, sir,\" said the guard as Locke was helped from his seat by no fewer than three stocky men and then enthusiastically assisted down the main corridor of the public gallery, out the foyer, and back to the steps. The rain had ceased to fall, and the city had the freshly washed scent of steam rising from warm stones.\n\n\"It'd be best if we didn't see you again,\" said one of the guards. Three of them stood there, staring down at him, while men and women of business made their way up the steps around him, patently ignoring him. The same could not be said for some of the yellowjackets, who were staring interestedly.\n\n\"Shit,\" he muttered to himself, and he set off to the southwest at a brisk walk. He would cross one of the bridges to the Videnza, he told himself, and find one of the tailors there...\n\nTHE WATER-CLOCK was chiming the noon hour when Locke returned to the foot of Meraggio's steps. The light-colored clothing of'Tavrin Callas\" had vanished; Locke now wore a dark cotton doublet, cheap black breeches, and black hose; his hair was concealed under a black velvet cap, and in place of his goatee (which had come off rather painfully-someday he would learn to carry adhesive-dissolving salve with him as a matter of habit) he now wore a thin moustache. His cheeks were red, and his clothing was already sweated through in several places. In his hands he clutched a rolled parchment (blank), and he gave himself a hint of a Talishani accent when he stepped into the foyer and addressed the guards." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I require a lawscribe,\" said Locke." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have no appointment and no associates here; I am content to wait for the first available.\"\n\n\"Lawscribe, right.\" The familiar directory guard consulted his lists. \"You might try Daniella Montagu, public gallery, desk sixteen. Or maybe... Etienne Acalo, desk thirty-six. Anyhow, there's a railed area for waiting.\"\n\n\"You are most kind,\" said Locke.\n\n\"Name and district?\"\n\n\"Galdo Avrillaigne,\" said Locke. \"I am from Talisham.\"\n\n\"You write?\"\n\n\"Why, all the time,\" said Locke, \"except of course when I'm wrong.\"\n\nThe directory guard stared at him for several seconds until one of the guards standing behind Locke snickered; the symptoms of belated enlightenment appeared on the directory guard's face, but he didn't look very amused. \"Just signor make your mark here, Master Avrillaigne.\"\n\nLocke accepted the proffered quill and scribed a fluid, elaborate signature beside the guard's GALLDO AVRILLANE, then strolled into the countinghouse with a friendly nod.\n\nLocke rapidly cased the public gallery once again while he feigned good-natured befuddlement. Rather than settling into the waiting area, which was marked off with brass rails, he walked straight toward the well-dressed young man behind desk twenty-two, who was scribbling furiously on apiece of parchment and currently had no client to distract him. Locke settled into the chair before his desk and cleared his throat.\n\nThe man looked up; he was a slender Camorri with slicked-back brown hair and optics over his wide, sensitive eyes. He wore a cream-colored coat with plum purple lining visible within the cuffs. The lining matched his tunic and his vest; the man's ruffled silk cravats were composed in layers of cream upon dark purple. Somewhat dandified, perhaps, and the man was a few inches taller than Locke, but that was a difficulty relatively easily dealt with." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I say,\" said Locke in his brightest, most conversational I'm-not-from-your-city tone of voice, \"how would you like to find your pockets laden down with five white iron crowns before the afternoon is done?\"\n\n\"I... that... five... sir, you seem to have meat a disadvantage. What can I do for you, and indeed, who are you?\"\n\n\"My name is Galdo Avrillaigne,\" said Locke. \"I'm from Talisham.\"\n\n\"You don't say,\" said the man. \"Five crowns, you mentioned? I usually don't charge that much for my services, but I'd like to hear what you have in mind.\"\n\n\"Your services,\" said Locke, \"your professional services, that is, are not what I'll be requiring, Master...\"\n\n\"Magris, Armand Magris,\" said the man. \"But you, you don't know who I am and you don't want my-\"\n\n\"White iron, I said.\" Locke conjured the same piece he'd set down on Koreander Previn's desk two hours before. He made it seem to popup out of his closed knuckles and settle there; he'd never developed the skill for knuckle-walking that the Sanzas had. \"Five white iron crowns, fora trifling service, if somewhat unusual.\"\n\n\"Unusual how?\"\n\n\"I have had a streak of rather ill fortune, Master Magris,\" said Locke. \"I am a commercial representative of Strollo and Sons, the foremost confectioner in all of Talisham, purveyor of subtleties and sweets. I took ship from Talisham fora meeting with several potential clients in Camorr-clients of rank, you understand. Two dons and their wives, looking to my employers to liven up their tables with new gustatory experiences.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Do you wish me to draw up documents fora potential partnership, or some sale?\"\n\n\"Nothing so mundane, Master Magris, nothing so mundane. Pray hear the full extent of my misfortune. I was dispatched to Camorr by sea, with a number of packages in my possession. These packages contained spun sugar confections of surpassing excellence and delicacy; subtleties the likes of which even your famed Camorri chefs have never conceived. Hollow sweetmeats with alchemical cream centers... cinnamon tarts with the Austershalin brandy of Emberlain fora glaze... wonders. I was to dine with our potential clients, and see that they were suitably overcome with enthusiasm for my employer's arts. The sums involved for furnishing festival feasts alone, well... the engagement is a very important one.\"\n\n\"I don't doubt it,\" said Magris. \"Sounds like very pleasant work.\"\n\n\"It would be, save for one unfortunate fact,\" said Locke. \"The ship that brought me here, while as fast as had been promised, was badly infested with rats.\"\n\n\"Oh dear... surely not your-\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Locke. \"My wares. My very excellent wares were stored in rather lightweight packages. I kept them out of the hold; unfortunately, this seems to have given the rats an easier time of it. They fell upon my confections quite ravenously; everything I carried was destroyed.\"\n\n\"It pains me to hear of your loss,\" said Magris. \"How can I be of aid?\"\n\n\"My wares,\" said Locke, \"were stored with my clothes. And that is the final embarrassment of my situation; between the depredations of teeth and of, ah, droppings, if I maybe so indelicate... my wardrobe is entirely destroyed. I dressed plainly for the voyage, and now this is the only complete set of clothes to my name.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Twelve gods, that is a pretty pickle. Does your employer have an account here at Meraggio's? Do you have credit you might draw against for the price of clothes?\"\n\n\"Sadly, no,\" said Locke. \"We have been considering it; I have long argued for it. But we have no such account to help me now, and my dinner engagement this evening is most pressing; most pressing indeed. Although I cannot present the confections, I can at least present myself in apology-I do not wish to give offense. One of our potential clients is, ah, a very particular and picky man. Very particular and picky. It would not do to stand him up entirely. He would no doubt spread word in his circles that Strollo and Sons was not a name to be trusted. There would be imputations not just against our goods, but against our very civility, you see.\"\n\n\"Yes, some of the dons are... very firmly set in their customs. As yet I fail to see, however, where my assistance enters the picture.\"\n\n\"We are of a similar size, sir, of a fortuitously similar size. And your taste, why, it is superlative, Master Magris; we could belong-lost brothers, so alike are we in our sense for cuts and colors. You are slightly taller than I am, but surely I can bear that for the few hours necessary. I would ask, sir, I would beg-aid me by lending me a suitable set of clothing. I must dine with dons this evening; help me to look the part, so that my employers might salvage their good name from this affair.\"\n\n\"You desire... you desire the loan of a coat, and breeches, and hose and shoes, and all the fiddle-faddle and necessaries?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Indeed,\" said Locke, \"with a heartfelt promise to look after every single stitch as though it were the last in the world." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What's more, I propose to leave you an assurance of five white iron crowns; keep it until I have returned every thread of your clothing, and then keep it thereafter. Surely it is a month or two of pay, for so little work.\"\n\n\"It is, it is... it is a very handsome sum. However,\" said Magris, looking as though he was trying to stifle a grin, \"this is... as I'm sure you know, rather odd.\"\n\n\"I am only too aware, sir, only too aware. Can I not inspire you to have some pity for me? I am not too proud to beg, Master Magris-it is more than just my job at stake. It is the reputation of my employers.\"\n\n\"No doubt,\" said Magris. \"No doubt. A pity that rats cannot speak Therin; I wager they'd offer forth a very fine testimony.\"\n\n\"Six white iron crowns,\" said Locke. \"I can stretch my purse that far. I implore you, sir...\"\n\n\"Squeak-squeak,\" said Magris. \"Squeak-squeak, they would say. And what fat little rats they would be after all that; what round little miscreants. They would give their testimony and then beg to be put back on a ship for Talisham, to continue their feasting. Your Strollo and Sons could have loyal employees for life; though rather small ones, of course.\"\n\n\"Master Magris, this is quite-\"\n\n\"You're not really from Talisham, are you?\"\n\n\"Master Magris, please.\"\n\n\"You're one of Meraggio's little tests, aren't you? Just like poor Willa got snapped up in last month.\" Magris could no longer contain his mirth; he was obviously very pleased with himself indeed. \"You may inform the good Master Meraggio that my dignity doesn't flee at the sight of a little white iron; I would never dishonor his establishment by participating in such a prank. You will, of course, give him my very best regards?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke had known frustration on many occasions before, so it was easy enough to stifle the urge to leap over Magris' desk and strangle him. Sighing inwardly, he let his gaze wander around the room fora split second-and there, staring out across the floor from one of the second-level galleries, stood Meraggio himself.\n\nGiancana Meraggio wore a frock coat in the ideal present fashion, loose and open, with flaring cuffs and polished silver buttons. His coat, breeches, and cravats were of a singularly pleasing dark blue, the color of the sky just before Falselight. There was little surface ostentation, but the clothes were fine, rich and subtle in away that made their expense clear without offending the senses. It had to be Meraggio, for there was an orchid pinned at the right breast of his coat-that was Meraggio's sole affectation, afresh orchid picked every single day to adorn his clothes.\n\nJudging by the advisors and attendants who stood close behind the man, Locke estimated that Meraggio was very close in height and build to himself.\n\nThe plan seemed to come up out of nowhere; it swept into his thoughts like a boarding party rushing onto a ship. In the blink of an eye, he was in its power, and it was set out before him, plain as walking in a straight line. He dropped his Talishani accent and smiled back at Magris.\n\n\"Oh, you're too clever for me, Master Magris. Too clever by half. My congratulations; you were only too right to refuse. And never fear-I shall report to Meraggio himself, quite presently and directly. Your perspicacity will not escape his notice. Now, if you will excuse me...\"\n\nAT THE rear of Meraggio's was a service entrance in a wide alley, where deliveries came into the storage rooms and kitchens. This was where the waiters took their breaks, as well. Newcomers to the countinghouse's service received scant minutes, while senior members of the staff might have as long as half an hour to lounge and eat between shifts on the floor. A single bored guard leaned on the wall beside the service door, arms folded; he came to life as Locke approached." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What business?\"\n\n\"Nothing, really,\" said Locke. \"I just wanted to talk to some of the waiters, maybe one of the kitchen stewards.\"\n\n\"This isn't a public park. Best you took your stroll elsewhere.\"\n\n\"Be a friend,\" said Locke. A solon appeared in one of his hands, conveniently held up within the guard's reach. \"I'm looking fora job, is all. I just want to talk to some of the waiters and stewards, right? The ones that are off duty. I'll stay out of everyone else's way.\"\n\n\"Well, mind that you do.\" The guard made the silver coin vanish into his own pockets. \"And don't take too long.\"\n\nJust inside the service entrance, the receiving room was unadorned, low-ceilinged, and smelly. Half a dozen silent waiters stood against the walls or paced; one or two sipped tea, while the rest seemed to be savoring the simple pleasure of doing nothing at all. Locke appraised them rapidly, selected the one closest to his own height and build, and quickly stepped over to the man.\n\n\"I need your help,\" said Locke. \"It's worth five crowns, and it won't take but a few minutes.\"\n\n\"Who the hell are you?\"\n\nLocke reached down, grabbed one of the waiter's hands, and slapped a white iron crown into it. The man jerked his hand away, then looked down at what was sitting on his palm. His eyes did a credible imitation of attempting to jump out of their sockets.\n\n\"The alley,\" said Locke. \"We need to talk.\"\n\n\"Gods, we certainly do,\" said the waiter, a bulldog-faced, balding man somewhere in his thirties." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke led him out the service door and down the alley, until they were about forty feet from the guard, safely out of earshot. \"I work for the duke,\" said Locke. \"I need to get this message to Meraggio, but I can't be seen in the countinghouse dressed as myself. There are... complications.\" Locke waved his blank parchment pages at the waiter; they were wrapped into a tight cylinder.\n\n\"I, ah, I can deliver that for you,\" said the waiter.\n\n\"I have orders,\" said Locke. \"Personal delivery, and nothing less. I need to get on that floor and I need to be inconspicuous; it just needs to be for five minutes. Like I said, it's worth five crowns. Cold spending metal, this very afternoon. I need to look like a waiter.\"\n\n\"Shit,\" said the waiter. \"Usually, we have some spare togs lying around... black coats and a few aprons. We could fix you up with those, but it's laundry day. There's nothing in the whole place.\"\n\n\"Of course there is,\" said Locke. \"You're wearing exactly what I need.\"\n\n\"Now, wait just a minute. That's not really possible...\"\n\nLocke grabbed the waiter's hand again and slid another four white iron crowns into it.\n\n\"Have you ever held that much money before in your life?\"\n\n\"Twelve gods, no,\" the man whispered. He licked his lips, stared at Locke fora second or two, and then gave a brief nod. \"What do I do?\"\n\n\"Just follow me,\" said Locke. \"We'll make this easy and quick.\"\n\n\"I have about twenty minutes,\" said the waiter. \"And then I need to be back on the floor.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"When I'm finished,\" said Locke, \"that won't matter. I'll let Meraggio know you've helped us both; you'll be off the hook.\"\n\n\"Uh, okay. Where are we going?\"\n\n\"Just around the corner here... We need an inn.\"\n\nThe Welcoming Shade was just around the block from Meraggio's Countinghouse. It was tolerably clean, cheap, and devoid of luxuries-the sort of place that hosted couriers, scholars, scribes, attendants, and lesser functionaries rather than the better classes of businessfolk. The place was a two-story square, built around an open central space in the fashion of a Therin Throne villa. At the center of this courtyard was a tall olive tree with leaves that rustled pleasantly in the sunlight.\n\n\"One room,\" said Locke, \"with a window, just for the day.\" He set coins down on the counter. The innkeeper scurried out, key in hand, to show Locke and the waiter to a second-story room marked'9.\"\n\nChamber nine had a pair of folding cots, an oiled-paper window, a small closet, and nothing else. The master of the Welcoming Shade bowed as he left, and kept his mouth shut. Like most Camorri innkeepers, any questions he might have had about his customers or their business tended to vanish when silver hit the counter.\n\n\"What's your name?\" Locke drew the room's door closed and shot the bolt.\n\n\"Benjavier,\" said the waiter. \"You're, ah, sure... this is going to workout like you say it is?\"\n\nIn response, Locke drew out his coin purse and set it in Benjavier's hand. \"There's two more full crowns in there, above and beyond what you'll receive. Plus quite a bit of gold and silver. My word's as good as my money-and you can keep that purse, here, as an assurance until I return.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Gods,\" said Benjavier. \"This is... this is all so very odd. I wonder what I've done to deserve such incredible fortune?\"\n\n\"Most men do nothing to deserve what the gods throw their way,\" said Locke. \"Shall we be about our business?\"\n\n\"Yes, yes.\" Benjavier untied his apron and tossed it to Locke; he then began to work on his jacket and breeches. Locke slipped off his velvet cap.\n\n\"I say, gray hair-you don't look your age, in the face, I mean.\"\n\n\"I've always been blessed with youthful lines,\" said Locke. \"It's been of some benefit, in the duke's service. I'll need your shoes, as well-mine would look rather out of place beneath that finery.\"\n\nWorking quickly, the two men removed and traded clothing until Locke stood in the center of the room, fully garbed as a Meraggio's waiter, with the maroon apron tied at his waist. Benjavier lounged on one of the sleeping pallets in his undertunic and breechclout, tossing the bag of jingling coins from hand to hand.\n\n\"Well? How do I look?\"\n\n\"You look right smart,\" said Benjavier. \"You'll blend right in.\"\n\n\"Good. You, for your part, look right wealthy. Just wait herewith the door locked; I'll be back soon enough. I'll knock exactly five times, savvy?\"\n\n\"Sounds fine.\"\n\nLocke closed the door behind him, hurried down the stairs, across the courtyard, and back out into the street. He took the long way around to return to Meraggio's, so he could enter via the front and avoid the guard at the service entrance." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're not supposed to come and go this way,\" said the directory guard when Locke burst into the foyer, red-cheeked and sweating.\n\n\"I know, sorry.\" Locke waved his blank roll of parchment at the man. \"I was sent out to fetch this for one of the lawscribes; one of the private gallery members, I should say.\"\n\n\"Oh, sorry. Don't let us keep you; go right through.\"\n\nLocke entered into the crowd on the floor of Meraggio's for the third time, gratified by how few lingering looks he received as he hurried on his way. He wove deftly between well-dressed men and women and ducked out of the path of waiters bearing covered silver trays-he was careful to give these men a friendly, familiar nod as they passed. In moments, he found what he was looking for-two guards lounging against aback wall, their heads bent together in conversation.\n\n\"Look lively, gentlemen,\" said Locke as he stepped up before them; either one of them had to outweigh him by at least five stone. \"Either of you lads know a man named Benjavier? He's one of my fellow waiters.\"\n\n\"I know him by sight,\" said one of the guards.\n\n\"He's in a heap of shit,\" said Locke. \"He's over at the Welcoming Shade, and he's just fucked up one of Meraggio's tests. I'm to fetch him back; I'm supposed to grab you two for help.\"\n\n\"One of Meraggio's tests?\"\n\n\"You know,\" said Locke. \"Like he did to Willa.\"\n\n\"Oh, her. That clerk in the public section. Benjavier, you say? What's he done?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sold the old man out, and Meraggio's not pleased. We really should do this sooner rather than later.\"\n\n\"Uh... sure, sure.\"\n\n\"Out the side, through the service entrance.\"\n\nLocke positioned himself very carefully to make it seem as though he was confidently walking along beside the guards when in fact he was following their lead through the kitchens, the service corridors, and finally the receiving room. He slipped into the lead, and the two guards were on his heels as he stepped out into the alley, waving casually at the lounging guard. The man showed no signs of recognizing him; Locke had seen dozens of waiters already with his own eyes. No doubt a stranger could pass as one for quite sometime, and he didn't even need quite sometime.\n\nA few minutes later, he rapped sharply on the door of chamber nine at the Welcoming Shade, five times. Benjavier opened the door a crack, only to have it shoved open all the way by a stiff arm from Locke, who called up some of the manner he'd used when he'd lectured Don Salvara as a'Midnighter.\"\n\n\"It was a loyalty test, Benjavier,\" said Locke as he stalked into the room, his eyes cold. \"A loyalty test. And you fucked it up. Take him and hold him, lads.\"\n\nThe two guards moved to restrain the half-naked waiter, who stared at them in shock. \"But... but I didn't... but you said-\"\n\n\"Your job is to serve Meraggio's customers and sustain Master Meraggio's trust. My job is to find and deal with men that don't sustain his trust. You sold me your gods-damned uniform.\" Locke swept white iron crowns and the coin purse up from the bed; he dropped the loose coins into the leather bag as he spoke. \"I could have been a thief. I could have been an assassin. And you would have let me walk right up to Master Meraggio, with the perfect disguise.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But you... oh, gods, you can't be serious, this can't be happening!\"\n\n\"Do these men look less than serious? I'm sorry, Benjavier. It's nothing personal, but you made a very poor decision.\" Locke held the door open. \"Right, outwith him. Back to Meraggio's, quick as you can.\"\n\nBenjavier kicked out, snarling and crying, \"No, no, you can't, I've been loyal all my-\" Locke grabbed him by the chin and stared into his eyes.\n\n\"If you fightback,\" said Locke, \"if you kick or scream or continue to raise a gods-damned fuss, this matter will go beyond Meraggio's, do you understand? We will bring in the watch. We will have you hauled to the Palace of Patience in irons. Master Meraggio has many friends at the Palace of Patience. Your case might fall between the cracks fora few months. You might get to sit in a spider cage and ponder your wrongdoing until the rains of winter start to fall. Do I make myself clear?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" sobbed Benjavier. \"Oh, gods, I'm sorry, I'm sorry...\"\n\n\"It's not me you need to apologize to. Now, like I said, let's get him back quickly. Master Meraggio's going to want a word with him.\"\n\nLocke led the way back to the countinghouse, with Benjavier sobbing but quiescent. Locke strolled into the receiving room, right past the startled service-door guard, and bellowed, \"Clear this room. Now.\"\n\nA few of the lounging waiters looked as though they might offer argument, but the sight of Benjavier, half-dressed and firmly held by the two guards, seemed to convince them that something was deeply amiss. They scuttled from the room, and Locke turned to the guards." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Hold him here,\" said Locke. \"I'm going to fetch Master Meraggio; we'll return in a few moments. This room is to stay clear until we return. Let the waiters take their ease somewhere else.\"\n\n\"Hey, what's going on?\" The service-door guard poked his head into the receiving room.\n\n\"If you value your job,\" said Locke, \"keep your eyes out therein that alley, and don't let anyone else in. Meraggio's going to be down here soon, and he's going to be in a mood, so it'd be best not to catch his attention.\"\n\n\"I think he's right, Laval,\" said one of the guards holding Benjavier.\n\n\"Uh... sure, sure.\" The service-door guard vanished.\n\n\"As for you,\" said Locke, stepping close to Benjavier, \"like I said, it's nothing personal. Can I give you a bit of advice? Don't play games. You can't lie to Meraggio. None of us could, on our best day. Just confess, straight out. Be totally honest. Do you understand?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" sniffed Benjavier. \"Yes, please, I'll do anything...\"\n\n\"You don't need to do anything. But if you hope for Master Meraggio to beat all lenient or sympathetic, then by the gods, you fucking confess and you do it in a hurry. No games, remember?\"\n\n\"O-okay, yes, anything...\"\n\n\"I shall return very shortly,\" said Locke, and he spun on his heel and made for the door. Ashe left the receiving room, he allowed himself a brief smirk of pleasure; the guards pinning Benjavier now looked almost as frightened of him as the waiter did. It was strange, how readily authority could be conjured with nothing but a bit of strutting jackassery. He made his way through the service passages and kitchens, and back out onto the public floor." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I say,\" said Locke to the first guard he came across, \"is Master Meraggio in the members' galleries?\" Locke waved his blank rolled parchment as though it were pressing business.\n\n\"Far as I know,\" said the guard, \"I think he's upon the third level, taking reports.\"\n\n\"Many thanks.\"\n\nLocke climbed the wide black iron stairs that led up to the first members' gallery, nodding at the pair of guards at its base. His uniform seemed to be a sufficient guarantee of gallery privileges, but he kept the parchment clutched visibly in both hands, as an added assurance. He scanned the first-floor galleries, found no sign of his quarry, and continued upward.\n\nHe found Giancana Meraggio on the third floor, just as the guard had indicated. Meraggio stood staring out at the public gallery, abstractly, as he listened to a pair of finnickers behind him read from wax tablets figures that meant very little to Locke. Meraggio didn't seem to keep a bodyguard near his person; apparently he felt safe enough within the bounds of his commercial kingdom. So much the better. Locke stepped right up beside him, relishing the arrogance of the gesture, and stood waiting to be noticed.\n\nThe finnickers and several nearby gallery members started muttering to themselves; after a few seconds Meraggio turned and let the full power of his storm-lantern glare rest on Locke. It took only a moment for that glare to shift from irritation to suspicion.\n\n\"You,\" said Meraggio, \"do notwork for me.\"\n\n\"I bring greetings from Capa Raza of Camorr,\" said Locke, in a quiet and respectful voice. \"I have a very serious matter to bring to your attention, Master Meraggio.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The master of the countinghouse stared at him, then removed his optics and tucked them in a coat pocket. \"So it's true, then. I'd heard Barsavi had gone the way of all flesh... And now your master sends a lackey. How kind of him. What's his business?\"\n\n\"His business is rather congruent with yours, Master Meraggio. I'm hereto save your life.\"\n\nMeraggio snorted. \"My life is hardly in danger, my improperly dressed friend. This is my house, and any guard here would cut your balls off with two words from me. If I were you, I'd start explaining where you got that uniform.\"\n\n\"I purchased it,\" said Locke, \"from one of your waiters, a man by the name of Benjavier. I knew he was tractable, because he's already in on the plot against your life.\"\n\n\"Ben? Gods damn it-what proof have you?\"\n\n\"I have several of your guards holding him down by your service entrance, rather half-dressed.\"\n\n\"What do you mean you have several of my guards holding him? Who the hell do you think you are?\"\n\n\"Capa Raza has given me the job of saving your life, Master Meraggio. I mean exactly what I said. And as for who I am, I happen to be your savior.\"\n\n\"My guards and my waiters-\"\n\n\"Are not reliable,\" hissed Locke. \"Are you blind? I didn't purchase this at a secondhand clothier; I walked right in through your service entrance, offered a few crowns, and your man Benjavier was out of his uniform like that.\" Locke snapped his fingers. \"Your guard at the service door slipped me in for much less-just a solon. Your men are not made of stone, Master Meraggio; you presume much concerning their fidelity.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Meraggio stared at him, color rising in his cheeks; he looked as though he was about to strike Locke. Instead, he coughed and held out his hands, palms up.\n\n\"Tell me what you came to tell me,\" said Meraggio. \"I'll take my own counsel from there.\"\n\n\"Your finnickers are crowding me. Dismiss them and give us a bit of privacy.\"\n\n\"Don't tell me what to do in my own-\"\n\n\"I will tell you what to do, gods damn it,\" Locke spat. \"I am your fucking bodyguard, Master Meraggio. You are in deadly danger; minutes count. You already know of at least one compromised waiter and one lax guard; how much longer are you going to prevent me from keeping you alive?\"\n\n\"Why is Capa Raza so concerned for my safety?\"\n\n\"Your personal comfort likely means nothing to him,\" said Locke. \"The safety of the Meraggio, however, is of paramount importance. An assassination contract has been taken out against you, by Verrari commercial interests who wish to see Camorr's fortunes diminished. Raza has been in power for four days; your assassination would shake the city to its foundations. The Spider and the city watch would tear Raza's people apart looking for answers. He simply cannot allow harm to come to you. He must keep this city stable, as surely as the duke must.\"\n\n\"And how does your master know all of this?\"\n\n\"A gift from the gods,\" said Locke. \"Letters were intercepted while my master's agents were pursuing an unrelated matter. Please dismiss your finnickers.\"\n\nMeraggio pondered fora few seconds, then grunted and waved his attendants away with an irritated wrist-flick. They backed off, wide-eyed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Someone very nasty is after you,\" said Locke. \"It's a crossbow job; the assassin is Lashani. Supposedly, his weapons have been altered by a Karthani Bondsmage. He's slippery as all hell, and he almost always hits the mark. Be flattered; we believe his fee is ten thousand crowns.\"\n\n\"This is a great deal to swallow, Master...\"\n\n\"My name isn't important,\" said Locke. \"Come with me, down to the receiving room behind the kitchens. You can talk to Benjavier yourself.\"\n\n\"The receiving room, behind the kitchens?\" Meraggio frowned deeply. \"As yet, I have no reason to believe that you yourself might not be trying to lure me therefor mischief.\"\n\n\"Master Meraggio,\" said Locke, \"you are wearing silk and cotton, not chain mail. I have had you at dagger-reach for several minutes now. If my master wished you dead, your entrails would be staining the carpet. You don't have to thank me-you don't even have to like me-but for the love of the gods, please accept that I have been ordered to guard you, and one does not refuse the orders of the Capa of Camorr.\"\n\n\"Hmmm. A point. Is he as formidable a man as Barsavi was, this Capa Raza?\"\n\n\"Barsavi died weeping at his feet,\" said Locke. \"Barsavi and all of his children. Draw your own conclusions.\"\n\nMeraggio slipped his optics back onto his nose, adjusted his orchid, and put his hands behind his back.\n\n\"We shall go to the receiving room,\" he said. \"You lead the way.\"\n\nBENJAVIER AND the guards alike looked terrified when Meraggio stormed into the receiving room behind Locke; Locke guessed they were more attuned to the man's moods than he was, and what they saw on his face must have been something truly unpleasant." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Extend the narrative as the author's co-writer.\nTags: fantasy, heist, crime\nAuthor: Scott Lynch\nTitle: The Lies of Locke Lamora\nChapter: 26" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Someone very nasty is after you,\" said Locke. \"It's a crossbow job; the assassin is Lashani. Supposedly, his weapons have been altered by a Karthani Bondsmage. He's slippery as all hell, and he almost always hits the mark. Be flattered; we believe his fee is ten thousand crowns.\"\n\n\"This is a great deal to swallow, Master...\"\n\n\"My name isn't important,\" said Locke. \"Come with me, down to the receiving room behind the kitchens. You can talk to Benjavier yourself.\"\n\n\"The receiving room, behind the kitchens?\" Meraggio frowned deeply. \"As yet, I have no reason to believe that you yourself might not be trying to lure me therefor mischief.\"\n\n\"Master Meraggio,\" said Locke, \"you are wearing silk and cotton, not chain mail. I have had you at dagger-reach for several minutes now. If my master wished you dead, your entrails would be staining the carpet. You don't have to thank me-you don't even have to like me-but for the love of the gods, please accept that I have been ordered to guard you, and one does not refuse the orders of the Capa of Camorr.\"\n\n\"Hmmm. A point. Is he as formidable a man as Barsavi was, this Capa Raza?\"\n\n\"Barsavi died weeping at his feet,\" said Locke. \"Barsavi and all of his children. Draw your own conclusions.\"\n\nMeraggio slipped his optics back onto his nose, adjusted his orchid, and put his hands behind his back.\n\n\"We shall go to the receiving room,\" he said. \"You lead the way.\"\n\nBENJAVIER AND the guards alike looked terrified when Meraggio stormed into the receiving room behind Locke; Locke guessed they were more attuned to the man's moods than he was, and what they saw on his face must have been something truly unpleasant." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Benjavier,\" said Meraggio, \"Benjavier, I simply cannot believe it. After all I did for you-after I took you in and cleared up that mess with your old ship's captain... I haven't the words!\"\n\n\"I'm sorry, Master Meraggio,\" said the waiter, whose cheeks were wetter than the sloped roof of a house in a storm. \"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean anything by it...\"\n\n\"Didn't mean anything by it? Is it true, what this man has been telling me?\"\n\n\"Oh yes, gods forgive me, Master Meraggio, it's true! It's all true, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... please believe me-\"\n\n\"Be silent, gods damn your eyes!\"\n\nMeraggio stood, jaw agape, like a man who'd just been slapped. He looked around him as though seeing the receiving room for the first time, as though the liveried guards were alien beings. He seemed ready to stagger and fall backward; instead he whirled on Locke with his fists clenched.\n\n\"Tell me everything you know,\" he growled. \"By the gods, everyone involved in this affair is going to learn the length of my reach, I swear it.\"\n\n\"First things first. You must live out the afternoon. You have private apartments above the fourth-floor gallery, right?\"\n\n\"Of course.\"\n\n\"Let us go there immediately,\" said Locke. \"Have this poor bastard thrown into a storeroom; surely you have one that would suffice. You can deal with him when this affair is over. For the now, time is not our friend.\"\n\nBenjavier burst into loud sobs once again, and Meraggio nodded, looking disgusted. \"Put Benjavier in dry storage and bolt the door. You two, stand watch. And you-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The service-door guard had been peeking his head around the corner again." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He flushed red.\n\n\"Let another unauthorized person, so much as a small child, in through that door this afternoon, and I'll have your balls cutout and hot coals put in their place. Is that clear?\"\n\n\"P-perfectly clear, M-master Meraggio, sir.\"\n\nMeraggio turned and swept out of the room, and this time it was Locke at his heels, hurrying to keep up.\n\nGIANCANA MERAGGIO'S fortified private apartments were of a kind with the man's clothing: richly furnished in the most subtle fashion. The man clearly preferred to let materials and craftsmanship serve as his primary ornaments.\n\nThe steel-reinforced door clicked shut behind them, and the Verrari lockbox rattled as its teeth slid home within the wood. Meraggio and Locke were alone. The elegant miniature water-clock on Meraggio's lacquered desk was just filling the bowl that marked the first hour of the afternoon.\n\n\"Now,\" said Locke, \"Master Meraggio, you cannot be out on the floor again until our assassin is sewn up. It is not safe; we expected the attack to come between the first and fourth hour of the afternoon.\"\n\n\"That will cause problems,\" said Meraggio. \"I have business to look after; my absence on the floor will be noticed.\"\n\n\"Not necessarily,\" said Locke. \"Has it not occurred to you that we are of a very similar build? And that one man, in the shadows of one of the upper-level galleries, might look very much like another?\"\n\n\"You... you propose to masquerade as me?\"\n\n\"In the letters we intercepted,\" said Locke, \"we received one piece of information that is very much to our advantage. The assassin did not receive a detailed description of your appearance. Rather, he was instructed to put his bolt into the only man in the countinghouse wearing a rather large orchid at the breast of his coat. If I were to be dressed as you, in your customary place in the gallery, with an orchid pinned to my coat-well, that bolt would becoming at me, rather than you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I find it hard to believe that you're saintly enough to be willing to put yourself in my place, if this assassin is as deadly as you say.\"\n\n\"Master Meraggio,\" said Locke, \"begging your pardon, but I plainly haven't made myself clear. If I don't do this on your behalf, my master will kill me anyway. Furthermore, I am perhaps more adept at ducking the embrace of the Lady of the Long Silence than you might imagine. Lastly, the reward I have been promised for bringing this affair to a satisfactory close... Well, if you were in my shoes, you'd be willing to face a bolt as well.\"\n\n\"What would you have me do, in the meantime?\"\n\n\"Take your ease in these apartments,\" said Locke. \"Keep the doors tightly shut. Amuse yourself fora few hours; I suspect we won't have long to wait.\"\n\n\"And what happens when the assassin lets fly his bolt?\"\n\n\"I am ashamed to have to admit,\" said Locke, \"that my master has at least a half dozen other men out on the floor of your countinghouse today-please don't be upset. Some of your clients are not clients; they're the sharpest, roughest lads Capa Raza has, old hands at fast, quiet work. When our assassin takes his shot, they'll move on him. Between them and your own guards, he'll never know what hit him.\"\n\n\"And if you aren't as fast as you think you are? And that bolt hits home?\"\n\n\"Then I'll be dead, and you'll still be alive, and my master will be satisfied,\" said Locke. \"We swear oaths in my line of work as well, Master Meraggio. I serve Raza even unto death. So what's it going to be?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "LOCKE LAMORA stepped out of Meraggio's apartments at half past one dressed in the most excellent coat, vest, and breeches he had ever worn. They were the dark blue of the sky just before Falselight, and he thought the color suited him remarkably well. The white silk tunic was as cool as autumn river-water against his skin; it was fresh from Meraggio's closet, as were the hose, shoes, cravats, and gloves. His hair was slicked back with rose oil; a little bottle of the stuff rested in his pocket, along with a purse of gold tyrins he'd lifted from Meraggio's wardrobe drawers. Meraggio's orchid was pinned at his right breast, still crisply fragrant; it smelled pleasantly like raspberries.\n\nMeraggio's finnickers had been appraised of the masquerade, along with a select few of his guards. They nodded at Locke as he strolled out into the fourth-floor members\" gallery, sliding Meraggio's optics over his eyes. That was a mistake; the world went blurry. Locke cursed his own absentmindedness as he slipped them back into his coat-his old Fehrwight optics had been clear fakes, but of course Meraggio's actually functioned for Meraggio's eyes. A point to remember.\n\nCasually, as though it were all part of his plan, Locke stepped onto the black iron stairs and headed downward. From a distance, he certainly resembled Meraggio well enough to cause no comment; when he reached the floor of the public gallery, he strolled through rapidly enough to gather only a few odd looks in his wake. He plucked the orchid from his breast and shoved it into a pocket as he entered the kitchen.\n\nAt the entrance to the dry-storage room, he waved to the two guards and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. \"Master Meraggio wants you two watching the backdoor. Give Laval a hand. Nobody comes in, just as he said. On pain of, ah, hot coals. You heard the old man. I need a word with Benjavier.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The guards looked atone another and nodded; Locke's presumed authority over them now seemed to be so cemented that he supposed he could have strolled back herein ladies\" smallclothes and gotten the same response. Meraggio had probably used a few special agents in the past to whip his operations into shape; no doubt Locke was now riding on the coattails of their reputations.\n\nBenjavier looked up as Locke entered the storage room and slid the door shut behind him. Sheer bewilderment registered on his face; he was so surprised when Locke threw a coin purse at him that the little leather bag struck him in the eye. Benjavier cried out and fell back against the wall, both hands over his face.\n\n\"Shit,\" said Locke. \"Beg pardon; you were meant to catch that.\"\n\n\"What do you want now?\"\n\n\"I came to apologize. I don't have time to explain; I'm sorry I dragged you into this, but I have my reasons, and I have needs that must be met.\"\n\n\"Sorry you dragged me into this?\" Benjavier's voice broke; he sniffed once and spat at Locke. \"What the fuck are you talking about? What's going on? What does Master Meraggio think I did?\"\n\n\"I don't have time to sing you a tale. I put six crowns in that bag; some of it's in tyrins, so you can break it down easier. Your life won't be worth shit if you stay in Camorr; get out through the landward gates. Get my old clothes from the Welcoming Shade; here's the key.\"\n\nThis time Benjavier caught what was thrown at him.\n\n\"Now,\" said Locke. \"No more gods-damned questions. I'm going to grab you by the ear and haul you out into the alley; you make like you're scared shitless. When we're around the corner and out of sight, I'm going to let you go. If you have any love for life, you fucking run to the Welcoming Shade, get dressed, and get the hell out of the city. Make for Talisham or Ashmere; you've got more than a year's pay therein that purse. You should be able to do something with it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I don't-\"\n\n\"We go now,\" said Locke, \"or I leave you hereto die. Understanding is a luxury; you don't get to have it. Sorry.\"\n\nA moment later, Locke was hauling the waiter into the receiving room by the earlobe; this particular come-along was a painful hold well known to any guard or watchman in the city. Benjavier did a very acceptable job of wailing and sobbing and pleading for his life; the three guards at the service door looked on without sympathy as Locke hauled the waiter past them.\n\n\"Back in a few minutes,\" said Locke. \"Master Meraggio wants me to have a few more words with this poor bastard in private.\"\n\n\"Oh, gods,\" cried Benjavier, \"don't let him take me away! He's going to hurt me... please!\"\n\nThe guards chuckled at that, although the one who'd originally taken Locke's solon didn't seem quite as mirthful as the other two. Locke dragged Benjavier down the alley and around the corner; the moment they were cutoff from the sight of the three guards, Locke pushed him away. \"Go,\" he said. \"Run like hell. I give them maybe twenty minutes before they all figure out what a pack of asses they've been, and then you'll have hard men after you in squads. Go!\"\n\nBenjavier stared at him, then shook his head and stumbled off toward the Welcoming Shade. Locke toyed with one of the ends of his false moustache as he watched the waiter go, and then he turned around and lost himself in the crowds. The sun was pouring down light and heat with its usual intensity, and Locke was sweating hard inside his fine new clothes, but fora few moments he let a satisfied smirk creep onto his face." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He strolled north toward Twosilver Green; there was a gentlemen's trifles shop very near to the southern gate of the park, and there were other black alchemists in various districts who didn't know him by sight. A bit of adhesive dissolver to get rid of the moustache, and something to restore his hair to its natural shade... With those things in hand, he'd be Lukas Fehrwight once again, fit to visit the Salvaras and relieve them of a few thousand more crowns." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"OH, LUKAS!\" DOÑA Sofia's smile lit up her face when she met him at the door to the Salvara manor. Yellow light spilled out past him into the night; it was just past the eleventh hour of the evening. Locke had hidden himself away for most of the day following the affair at Meraggio's, and had dispatched a note by courier to let the don and the doña know that Fehrwight would pay them a late visit. \"It's been days! We received Graumann's note, but we were beginning to worry for our affairs-and for you, of course. Are you well?\"\n\n\"My lady Salvara, it is a pleasure to see you once again. Yes, yes-I am very well, thank you for inquiring. I have met with some disreputable characters over the past week, but all will be for the best; one ship is secured, with cargo, and we may begin our voyage as early as next week in it. Another is very nearly in our grasp.\"\n\n\"Well, don't stand there like a courier on the stair; do come in. Conté! We would have refreshment. I know, fetch out some of my oranges, the new ones. We'll be in the close chamber.\"\n\n\"Of course, m'lady.\" Conté stared at Locke with narrowed eyes and a grudging half-smile. \"Master Fehrwight. I do hope the night finds you in good health.\"\n\n\"Quite good, Conté.\"\n\n\"How splendid. I shall return very shortly.\"\n\nAlmost all Camorri manors had two sitting rooms near their entrance hall; one was referred to as the'duty chamber,\" where meetings with strangers and other formal affairs would beheld. It would be kept coldly, immaculately, and expensively furnished; even the carpets would be clean enough to eat off of. The'close chamber,\" in contrast, was for intimate and trusted acquaintances and was traditionally furnished for sheer comfort, in a manner that reflected the personality of the lord and lady of the manor." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Doña Sofia led him to the Salvaras' close chamber, which held four deeply padded leather armchairs with tall backs like caricatures of thrones. Where most sitting rooms would have had little tables beside each chair, this one had four potted trees, each just slightly taller than the chair it stood beside. The trees smelled of cardamon, ascent that suffused the room.\n\nLocke looked closely at the trees; they were not saplings, as he had first thought. They were miniatures, somehow. They had leaves barely larger than his thumbnail; their trunks were no thicker than a man's forearms, and their branches narrowed to the width of fingers. Within the twisting confines of its branches, each tree supported a small wooden shelf and a hanging alchemical lantern. Sofia tapped these to bring them to life, filling the room with amber light and green-tinted shadows. The patterns cast by the leaves onto the walls were at once fantastical and relaxing. Locke ran a finger through the soft, thin leaves of the nearest tree.\n\n\"Your handiwork is incredible, Doña Sofia,\" he said. \"Even for someone well acquainted with the work of our Planting Masters... We care mostly for function, for yields. You possess flair in abundance.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Lukas. Do be seated. Alchemically reducing the frame of larger botanicals is an old art, but one I happen to particularly enjoy, as a sort of hobby. And, as you can see, these are functional pieces as well. But these are hardly the greatest wonders in the room-I see you've taken up our Camorri fashions!\"\n\n\"This? Well, one of your clothiers seemed to believe he was taking pity on me; he offered such a bargain I could not in good conscience refuse. This is by far the longest I've ever been in Camorr; I decided I might as well attempt to blend in.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How splendid!\"\n\n\"Yes, it is,\" said Don Salvara, who strolled in fastening the buttons of his own coat cuffs. \"Much better than your black Vadran prisoner's outfits. Don't get me wrong-they're quite the thing fora northern clime, but down here they look like they're trying to strangle the wearer. Now, Lukas, what's the status of all the money we've been spending?\"\n\n\"One galleon is definitely ours,\" said Locke. \"I have a crew and a suitable cargo; I'll supervise the loading myself over the next few days. It will be ready to depart next week. And I have a promising lead on a second to accompany it, ready within the same time frame.\"\n\n\"A promising lead,\" said Doña Sofia, \"is not quite the same as \"definitely ours,\" unless I am very much mistaken.\"\n\n\"You are not, Doña Sofia.\" Locke sighed and attempted to look as though he were ashamed to bring up the issue once again. \"There is some question... That is, the captain of the second vessel is being tempted by an offer to carry a special cargo to Balinel-a relatively long voyage but fora very decent price. He has, as yet, to commit to my offers.\"\n\n\"And I suppose,\" said Don Lorenzo as he took a seat beside his wife, \"that a few thousand more crowns might need to be thrown at his feet to make him see reason?\"\n\n\"I fear very much, my good Don Salvara, that shall be the case.\"\n\n\"Hmmm. Well, we can speak of that in a moment. Here's Conté; I should quite like to showoff what my lady has newly accomplished.\"\n\nConté carried three silver bowls on a brass platter; each bowl held half an orange, already sliced so the segments of flesh within the fruit could be drawn outwith little two-pronged forks. Conté set a bowl, a fork, and a linen napkin down on the tree-shelf to Locke's right. The Salvaras looked at him expectantly while their own orange halves were laid out." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Locke worked very hard to conceal any trepidation he might have felt; he took the bowl in one hand and fished out a wedge of orange flesh with the fork. When he set it on his tongue, he was surprised at the tingling warmth that spread throughout his mouth. The fruit was saturated with something alcoholic.\n\n\"Why, it's been suffused with liquor,\" he said, \"something very pleasant. An orange brandy? A hint of lemon?\"\n\n\"Not suffused, Lukas,\" said Don Lorenzo with a boyish grin that had to be quite genuine. \"These oranges have been served in their natural state. Sofia's tree manufactures its own liquor and mingles it in the fruit.\"\n\n\"Sacred Marrows,\" said Locke. \"What an intriguing hybrid! To the best of my knowledge, it has yet to be done with citrus...\"\n\n\"I only arrived at the correct formulation a few months ago,\" said Sofia, \"and some of the early growths were quite unfit for the table. But this one seems to have gone over well. Another few generations of tests, and I shall be very confident of its marketability.\"\n\n\"I'd like to call it the Sofia,\" said Don Lorenzo. \"The Sofia orange of Camorr-an alchemical wonder that will make the vintners of Tal Verrar cry for their mothers.\"\n\n\"I, for my part, should like to call it something else,\" said Sofia, playfully slapping her husband on his wrist.\n\n\"The Planting Masters,\" said Locke, \"will find you quite as wondrous as your oranges, my lady. It is as I said: perhaps there is more opportunity in our partnership than any of us have foreseen. The way you seem to make every green thing around you malleable... I daresay that the character of the House of bel Auster for the next century could be shaped more by your touch than by our old Emberlain traditions.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You flatter me, Master Fehrwight,\" said the doña." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But let us not count our ships before they're in harbor.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" said Don Lorenzo. \"And on that note, I shall return us to business. Lukas, I fear I have unfortunate news for you. Unfortunate, and somewhat embarrassing. I have had... several setbacks in recent days. One of my upriver debtors has reneged on a large bill; several of my other projections have proven to be overly optimistic. We are, in short, not as fluid at the moment as any of us might hope. Our ability to throw a few thousand more crowns into our mutual project is very much in doubt.\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Locke. \"That is... that is, as you say, unfortunate.\"\n\nHe slid another orange slice into his mouth and sucked at the sweet liquor, using it as an artificial stimulus to tilt the corners of his lips upward, quite against his natural inclination.\n\nON THE waterfront of the Dregs, a priest of Aza Guilla glided from shadow to shadow, moving with a slow and patient grace that belied his size.\n\nThe mist tonight was thin, the damp heat of the summer night especially oppressive. Streams of sweat ran down Jean's face behind the silver mesh of his Sorrowful Visage. Camorri lore held that the weeks before the Midsummer-mark and the Day of Changes were always the hottest of the year. Out on the water, the now-familiar yellow lamps glimmered; shouts and splashes could be heard as the men aboard the Satisfaction hauled out another boat full of'charitable provisions.\"\n\nJean doubted he could learn anything more about the items going out on those boats unless he did something more obvious, like attacking one of the loading crews-and that would hardly do. So tonight he'd decided to focus his attention on a certain warehouse about a block in from the docks." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Dregs weren't quite as far gone as Ashfall, but the place was well on its way." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Buildings were falling down or falling sideways in every direction; the entire area seemed to be sinking down into a sort of swamp of rotted wood and fallen brick. Every year the damp ate a little more of the mortar between the district's stones, and legitimate business fled elsewhere, and more bodies turned up loosely concealed under piles of debris-or not concealed at all.\n\nWhile prowling in his black robes, Jean had noticed gangs of Raza's men coming and going from the warehouse for several nights in a row. The structure was abandoned but not yet uninhabitable, as its collapsed neighbors were. Jean had observed lights burning behind its windows almost until dawn, and parties of laborers coming and going with heavy bags over their shoulders, and even a horse-cart or two.\n\nBut not tonight. The warehouse had previously been a hive of activity, and tonight it was dark and silent. Tonight it seemed to invite his curiosity, and while Locke was off sipping tea with the quality, Jean aimed to pry into Capa Raza's business.\n\nThere were ways to do this sort of thing, and they involved patience, vigilance, and a great deal of slow walking. He went around the warehouse block several times, avoiding all contact with anyone on the street, throwing himself into whatever deep darkness was at hand and keeping his silver mask tucked under his arm to hide the glare. Given enough shadow, even a man Jean's size could be stealthy, and he was certainly light enough on his feet.\n\nCircling and sweeping, circling and sweeping; he established to his satisfaction that none of the roofs of nearby buildings held concealed watchers, and that there were no street-eyes either. Of course, he thought to himself as he pressed his backup against the southern wall of the warehouse, they could just be better than I am." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Aza Guilla, have a care,\" he mumbled as he edged toward one of the warehouse doors. \"If you don't favor me tonight, I'll never be able to return this fine robe and mask to your servants. Just a consideration, humbly submitted.\"\n\nThere was no lock on the door; in fact, it hung slightly ajar. Jean donned his silver mask again, then slipped his hatchets into his right hand and pushed them up the sleeve of his robe. He'd want them ready for use, but not quite visible, just in case he bumped into anyone who might still be awed by his vestments.\n\nThe door creaked slightly, and then he was into the warehouse, pressed up against the wall beside the door, watching and listening. The darkness was thick, crisscrossed by the overlying mesh of his mask. There was a strange smell in the air, above the expected smell of dirt and rotting wood-something like burnt metal.\n\nHe held his position, motionless, straining for several long minutes to catch any sound. There was nothing but the far-off creak and sigh of ships at anchor, and the sound of the Hangman's Wind blowing out to sea. He reached beneath his robe with his left hand and drew out an alchemical light-globe, much like the one he'd carried beneath the Echo Hole. He gave it a series of rapid shakes, and it flared into incandescence.\n\nBy the pale white light of the globe he saw that the warehouse was one large open space. A pile of wrecked and rotted partitions against the far wall might have been an office atone time. The floor was hard-packed dirt, and here and therein corners or against walls were piles of debris, some under tarps.\n\nJean carefully adjusted the position of the globe, keeping it pressed close against his body so that it threw out light only in a forward arc. That would help to keep his activity unseen; he didn't intend to spend more than a few minutes poking around in this place." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ashe slowly paced toward the northern end of the warehouse, he became aware of another unusual odor, one that raised his hackles. Something had been dumped in this place and left to rot. Meat, perhaps... but the odor was sickly-sweet. Jean was afraid he knew what it was even before he found the bodies.\n\nThere were four of them, thrown under a heavy tarp in the northeastern corner of the building-three men and one woman. They were fairly muscular, dressed in undertunics and breeches, with heavy boots and leather gloves. This puzzled Jean until he peered at their arms and saw their tattoos. It was traditional, in Camorr, for journeymen artisans to mark their hands or arms with some symbol of their trade. Breathing through his mouth to avoid the stench, Jean shifted the bodies around until he could be sure of those symbols.\n\nSomeone had murdered a pair of glasswrights and a pair of goldsmiths. Three of the corpses had obvious stab wounds, and the fourth, the woman... she had a pair of raised purple welts on one cheek of her waxy, bloodless face.\n\nJean sighed and let the tarp settle back down on top of the bodies. Ashe did, his eye caught the glimmer of reflected light from the floor. He knelt down and picked up a speck of glass, a sort of flattened drop. It looked as though it had hit the ground in a molten state and cooled there. A brief flick of the light-globe showed him dozens of these little glass specks in the dirt around the tarp.\n\n\"Aza Guilla,\" Jean whispered, \"I stole these robes, but don't hold it against these people. If I'm the only death-prayer they get, please judge them lightly, for the sorrow of their passing and the indignity of their resting place. Crooked Warden, if you could back that up somehow, I'd greatly appreciate it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was a creak as the doors on the northern wall of the building were pushed open. Jean started to leap backward, but thought better of it; his light was no doubt already seen, and it would be best to play the dignified priest of Aza Guilla. His hatchets remained up his right sleeve.\n\nThe last people he expected to walk through the north door of the warehouse were the Berangias sisters.\n\nCheryn and Raiza wore oilcloaks, but the hoods were thrown back and their shark's-teeth bangles gleamed by the light of Jean's globe. Each of the sisters held alight-globe as well. They shook them, and a powerful red glare rose up within the warehouse, as though each woman were cupping fire in the palms of her hands.\n\n\"Inquisitive priest,\" said one of the sisters. \"A good evening to you.\"\n\n\"Not the sort of place,\" said the other, \"where your order usually prowls without invitation.\"\n\n\"My order is concerned with death in every form, and in everyplace.\" Jean gestured toward the tarp with his light-globe. \"There has been afoul act committed here; I was saying a death prayer, which is what every soul is due before it passes into the long silence.\"\n\n\"Oh, afoul act. Shall we leave him to his business, Cheryn?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Raiza, \"for his business has been curiously concerned with ours these past few nights, hasn't it?\"\n\n\"You're right, Sister. Once or twice a-prowling, that we might excuse. But this priest has been persistent.\"\n\n\"Unusually persistent.\" The Berangias sisters were coming toward him, slowly, smiling like cats advancing on a crippled mouse. \"On our docks and now in our warehouse...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Do you dare suggest,\" said Jean, his heart racing, \"that you intend to interfere with an envoy of the Lady of the Long Silence?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Of Aza Guilla, the Goddess of Death itself?\"\n\n\"Interfering's what we do professionally, I'm afraid,\" said the sister on his right. \"We left the place open just in case you might want to stick your head in.\"\n\n\"Hoped you wouldn't be able to resist.\"\n\n\"And we know a thing or two about the Lady Most Kind ourselves.\"\n\n\"Although our service to her is a bit more direct than yours.\"\n\nWith that, red light gleamed on naked steel; each sister had drawn out a curved, arm-length blade-thieves' teeth, just as Maranzalla had shown him so many years earlier. The Berangias twins continued their steady approach.\n\n\"Well,\" said Jean, \"if we're already past the pleasantries, ladies, allow me to quit this masquerade.\" Jean tossed his light-globe on the ground, reached up, pulled back his black hood, and slipped off his mask.\n\n\"Tannen!\" said the sister on his right. \"Well, holy shit. So you didn't go out through the Viscount's Gate after all.\" The Berangias sisters halted, staring at him. Then they began circling to his left, moving in graceful unison, giving themselves more space to take action.\n\n\"You have some cheek,\" said the other, \"impersonating a priest of Aza Guilla.\"\n\n\"Beg pardon? You were going to kill a priest of Aza Guilla.\"\n\n\"Yes, well, you seem to have saved us from that particular blasphemy, haven't you?\"\n\n\"This is convenient!\" said the other sister. \"I never dreamed it'd be this easy.\"\n\n\"Oh, whatever it is,\" said Jean, \"I guarantee it won't be easy.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Did you like our work, in your little glass cellar?\" The sister on the left spoke now. \"Your two friends, the Sanza twins. Twins done in by twins, same wounds to the throat, same pose on the floor. Seemed appropriate.\"\n\n\"Appropriate?\" Jean felt new anger building like pressure at the back of his skull. He ground his teeth together. \"Mark my words, bitch. I've been wondering how I'd feel when this moment finally came, and I have to say, I think I'm going to feel pretty fucking good.\"\n\nThe Berangias sisters shrugged off their cloaks with nearly identical motions. As the oilcoth fluttered to the floor, they threw down their light-globes and drew out their other blades. Two sisters; four knives. They stared intently at Jean in the mingled red-and-white light and crouched, as they had a hundred times before crowds of screaming thousands at the Shifting Revel. As they had a hundred times before pleading victims in Capa Barsavi's court.\n\n\"Wicked sisters,\" said Jean, as he let the hatchets fallout of his right robe sleeve and into his hand, \"I'd like you to meet the Wicked Sisters.\"\n\n\"BUT DON'T take it too amiss, Lukas,\" said Doña Sofia as she set her hollowed-out orange back down on her shelf. \"We have a few possible remedies.\"\n\n\"We might only be out of the necessary funds fora few days,\" said Don Lorenzo. \"I have other sources I can tap; I do have peers who would be good for the loan of a few thousand. I even have some old favors I can call in.\"\n\n\"That... that is a relief, my lord and lady, quite a relief. I am pleased to hear that your... situation need not ruin our plan. And I wouldn't call it embarrassing, not at all. If anyone knows about financial hardship, why, it would be the House of bel Auster.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I shall speak to several of my likely sources of a loan next Idler's Day-which is, of course, the Day of Changes. Have you ever been to any formal celebration of the festival, Lukas?\"\n\n\"I'm afraid not, Don Lorenzo. I have, previously, never been in Camorr at the Midsummer-mark.\"\n\n\"Really?\" Doña Sofia raised her eyebrows at her husband. \"Why don't we bring Lukas with us to the duke's feast?\"\n\n\"An excellent idea!\" Don Lorenzo beamed at Locke. \"Lukas, since we can't leave until I've secured a few thousand more crowns anyway, why not be our guest? Every peer in Camorr will be there; every man and woman of importance from the lower city-\"\n\n\"At least,\" said Doña Sofia, \"the ones that currently have the duke's favor.\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said Lorenzo. \"Do come with us. The feast will beheld in Raven's Reach; the duke opens his tower only on this one occasion every year.\"\n\n\"My lord and lady Salvara, this is... quite an unexpected honor. But though I fear very much to refuse your hospitality, I also fear that it might possibly interfere with my ongoing work on our behalf.\"\n\n\"Oh, come, Lukas,\" said Lorenzo. \"It's four days hence; you said you'd be supervising loading the first galleon for the next few days. Take a rest from your labors and come enjoy a very singular opportunity. Sofia can show you around while I press some of my peers for the loans I need. With that money in hand, we should be able to set out just a few days after that, correct? Assuming you've told us of every possible complication?\"\n\n\"Yes, my lord Salvara, the matter of the second galleon is the only complication we face other than your, ah, loss of fluidity. And, at any rate, even its cargo for Balinel will not be in the city until next week. Fortune and the Marrows maybe favoring us once again.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"It's settled, then?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Doña Sofia linked hands with her husband and smiled. \"You'll be our guest at Raven's Reach?\"\n\n\"It's accounted something of an honor,\" confided the don, \"to bring an unusual and interesting guest to the duke's celebration. So we are eager to have you with us for several reasons.\"\n\n\"If it would give you pleasure,\" said Locke. \"I fear that I am not much for celebrations, but I can set aside my work fora night to attend.\"\n\n\"You won't be sorry, Lukas,\" said Doña Sofia. \"I'm sure we'll all think back very fondly on the feast when we begin our voyage.\"\n\nIN MANY ways, two was the worst possible number of multiple opponents in a close-quarters fight; it was nearly impossible to lead them into crowding and interfering with one another, especially if they were experienced at working together. And if anyone in Camorr was any good at fighting in tandem, it was the Berangias sisters.\n\nJean accounted his scant advantages as he twirled his hatchets and waited for one of the sisters to make the first move. He'd seen them inaction at least a dozen times, at the Shifting Revel and in the Floating Grave. It might not do him much good, since he didn't happen to be a shark, but it was something.\n\n\"We've heard that you're supposed to be good,\" said the sister on his left, and just as she spoke, the one on the right exploded forward, one knife out in a guard position and the other held low to stab. Jean sidestepped her lunge, blocked the thrusting knife with his left hatchet, and whipped the other one toward her eyes. Her second blade was already there; the hatchet rebounded off the studded handguard. She was as impossibly fast as he'd feared. So be it; he kicked out at her left knee, an easy trick he'd used to break a dozen kneecaps over the years." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Somehow, she sensed the blow coming and bent her leg to deflect it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It struck her calf, pushing her off balance but accomplishing little else. Jean disengaged his hatchets to swing at where she should befalling, but she turned her sideways fall into a whirlwind kick; she swiveled on her left hip faster than his eyes could follow, and her right leg whipped around in a blurred arc. That foot cracked against his forehead, right above his eyes, and the whole world shuddered.\n\nChasson. Of course. He could really learn to hate the art.\n\nHe stumbled backward; drilled instinct alone saved him from her follow-up-a straight thrust that should have punched through his solar plexus and buried her blade to the hilt. He swung his hatchets down and inward-a maneuver Don Maranzalla had jokingly referred to as the'crab's claws\"; he hooked her blade with his right-hand hatchet and yanked it sideways. That actually surprised her-Jean took advantage of her split-second hesitation to ram the tip of his other hatchet into the base of her neck. He didn't have time for an actual swing, but he could give a pretty forceful poke. She stumbled back, coughing, and he suddenly had a few feet of space once again. He stepped back another yard. The wall of the warehouse was looming behind him, but at a range of scant inches those knives were greatly superior to his own weapons. He needed reach to swing.\n\nThe left-hand Berangias dashed forward as the one on the right faded back, and Jean swore under his breath. With his back to the wall they couldn't try to take him from opposite sides, but he couldn't run-and they could trade off attacks, one falling back to recover while the other sister continued to wear him down.\n\nHis temper rose again. Bellowing, he tossed both of his hatchets at his new opponent. That caught her by surprise. She sidestepped with speed that matched her sister, and the weapons whirled past on either side, one of them catching at her hair. But Jean hadn't been in earnest with his gentle throw; he charged at her, hands outstretched-empty hands would do better against thieves\" teeth when opponents were close enough to kiss. The sister before him spread her blades again, confident of a quick kill, yet it was easy to underestimate Jean's own speed if one hadn't seen it up close before. His hands clamped down on her forearms. Putting his strength and mass to good use, he spread her arms forcefully; as expected, she raised one of her legs to give him a sharp kick." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Digging his fingers into the hard muscle of her forearms, keeping her blades firmly to the outside, he yanked as hard as he could. She flew forward, and with a smack that echoed in the warehouse, her nose met Jean's forehead. Hot blood spattered; it was on his robes, but he hoped Aza Guilla might eventually forgive him that little indignity. Before his opponent could recover, Jean let her arms go, cupped her entire face in one of his hands, and pushed from the hip with all of his might, like a shot-putter at the Therin Throne games of old. She flew into her sister, who barely got her blades out of the way in time to avoid skewering her sibling, and the Berangias twins toppled against the tarp-covered pile of corpses.\n\nJean ran to the center of the warehouse floor, where his hatchets lay on the dirt. He picked them up, twirled them once, and quickly worked at the little clasp that held his robe together beneath the collar. While the sisters recovered themselves, Jean shrugged out of his robe and let it fall to the ground.\n\nThe Berangias twins advanced on him again, about ten feet apart, and now they looked distinctly upset. Gods, Jean thought, most men would take a broken nose as a sign to run like hell. But the sisters continued to bear down on him, malice gleaming in their dark eyes. The eerie red-and-white light was at their back, and it seemed to outline them in eldritch fire as they spread their blades for another pass at him.\n\nAt least he had room to maneuver now.\n\nWithout a word between them, the Berangias sisters took to their heels and rushed at him, four knives gleaming. It was their own professionalism that saved Jean this time. He knew before it happened that one would feint and one would strike home. The sister on his left, the one with the broken nose, attacked a split second before the one on his right. With his left-hand hatchet raised as a guard, he stepped directly into the path of the one on his left. The other sister, eyes wide in surprise, lunged at the space he'd just slipped out of, and Jean swung his right-hand hatchet in a backhand arc, ball first, that caught her directly atop her skull. There was a wet crack, and she hit the floor hard, knives falling from her nerveless fingers." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The remaining sister screamed, and Jean's own mistake caught up with him at that moment; a feint can become a killing strike once more with very little effort. Her blades slashed out just as he was raising his right-hand hatchet once again; he caught and deflected one with his raised hatchet, but the other slid agonizingly across his ribs just beneath his right breast, laying open skin and fat and muscle. He gasped, and she kicked him in the stomach, staggering him. He toppled onto his back.\n\nShe was right on top of him, blood streaming down her face and neck, eyes full of white-hot hate. As she lunged down, he kicked outwith both of his legs. The air exploded out of her lungs and she flew back, but there was a sharp pain in his right biceps, and a line of fire seemed to erupt on his left thigh. Damn, she'd had her blades in him when he pushed her back! She'd slashed open a ragged line along the top of his thigh, with his help. He groaned. This had to end quickly, or blood loss would do for him as surely as the blades of the surviving sister.\n\nShe was back on her feet already; gods, she was fast. Jean heaved himself up to his knees, feeling a tearing pain across his right ribs. He could feel warm wetness cascading down his stomach and his legs; that wetness was time, running out. She was charging at him again; red light gleamed on steel, and Jean made his last move.\n\nHis right arm didn't feel strong enough fora proper throw, so he tossed his right-hand hatchet at her, underhand, directly into her face. It didn't have the speed to injure, let alone kill, but she flinched fora second, and that was long enough. Jean whipped his left-hand hatchet sideways and into her right knee; it broke with the most satisfying noise Jean could recall hearing in his life. She staggered; a rapid yank and a backhand whirl, and his blade bit deep into the front of her other knee. Her blades came down at him then, and he threw himself sideways. Steel whistled just past his ears as its wielder toppled forward, unable to bear weight on her legs any longer. She screamed once again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Jean rolled several times to his right-a wise decision." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When he stumbled up to his feet, clutching at his right side, he saw the surviving sister dragging herself toward him, one blade still held tightly in her right hand.\n\n\"You're bleeding hard, Tannen. You won't live out the night, you fucking bastard.\"\n\n\"That's Gentleman Bastard,\" he said. \"And there's a chance I won't. But you know what? Calo and Galdo Sanza are laughing at you, bitch.\"\n\nHe wound up with his left arm and let his remaining hatchet fly, a true throw this time, with all the strength and hatred he could put behind it. The blade struck home right between the Berangias sister's eyes. With the most incredible expression of surprise on her face she fell forward and sprawled like a rag doll.\n\nJean wasted no time in reflection. He gathered his hatchets and threw on one of the sisters'oilcloaks, putting up the hood. His head was swimming; he recognized all the signs of blood loss, which he'd had the misfortune to experience before. Leaving the bodies of the Berangias sisters in the light of the fallen glow-globes, he stumbled back out into the night. He would avoid the Cauldron, where some sort of trouble was sure to lurk, and make a straight run across the north of the Wooden Waste. If he could just make it to the Ashfall hovel, Ibelius would be there, and Ibelius would have some trick up his sleeves.\n\nIf the dog-leech attempted to use a poultice on him, however, Jean was likely to break his fingers.\n\nIN HER solarium atop Amberglass tower, Doña Vorchenza spent the midnight hour in her favorite chair, peering at the evening's notes. There were reports of the ongoing strife from the Gray King's ascension to Barsavi's seat; more thieves found lying in abandoned buildings with their throats slashed. Vorchenza shook her head; this mess was really the last thing she needed with the affair of the Thorn finally coming to ahead. Raza had identified and exiled half a dozen of her spies among the gangs; that in itself was deeply troubling. None of them had been aware of one another, as agents. So either all of her agents were clumsier than she'd suspected, or Raza was fantastically observant. Or there was a breach in her trust at some level above the spies on the street." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Damnation. And why had the man exiled them, rather than slaying them outright? Was he trying to avoid antagonizing her? He'd certainly not succeeded. It was time to send him a very clear message of her own-to summon this Capa Raza to a meeting with Stephen, with forty or fifty blackjackets to emphasize her points.\n\nThe elaborate locks to her solarium door clicked, and the door slid open. She hadn't been expecting Stephen to return this evening; what a fortunate coincidence. She could give him her thoughts on the Raza situation...\n\nThe man that entered her solarium wasn't Stephen Reynart.\n\nHe was a rugged man, lean-cheeked and dark-eyed; his black hair was slashed with gray at his temples, and he strolled into her most private chamber as though he belonged there. He wore a gray coat, gray breeches, gray hose, and gray shoes; his gloves and vest were gray, and only the silk neck-cloths tied casually above his chest had color; they were bloodred.\n\nDoña Vorchenza's heart hammered; she put a hand to her chest and stared in disbelief. Not only had the intruder managed to open the door, and done so without taking a crossbow bolt in the back, but there was another man behind him-a younger man, bright-eyed and balding, dressed in a similar gray fashion, with only the bright scarlet cuffs of his coat to set him apart.\n\n\"Who the hell are you?\" she bellowed, and fora moment that age-weakened voice rose to something like its old power. She rose from her seat, fists clenched. \"How did you getup here?\"\n\n\"We are your servants, my lady Vorchenza; your servants come to pay you our proper respects at last. You must forgive us our previous discourtesy; things have been so busy of late in my little kingdom.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You speak as though I should know you, sir. I asked your name.\"\n\n\"I have several,\" said the older man, \"but now I am called Capa Raza. This is my associate, who styles himself the Falconer. And as for how we came to your truly lovely solarium...\"\n\nHe gestured to the Falconer, who held up his left hand, palm spread toward Doña Vorchenza. The coat sleeve fell away, revealing three thick black lines tattooed at his wrist.\n\n\"Gods,\" Vorchenza whispered. \"A Bondsmage.\"\n\n\"Indeed,\" said Capa Raza, \"for which, forgive me, but his arts seemed the only way to ensure that your servants would haul us up here, and the only way to ensure we could enter your sanctum without disturbing you beforehand.\"\n\n\"I am disturbed now,\" she spat. \"What is your meaning here?\"\n\n\"It is past time,\" said Raza, \"for my associate and Ito have a conversation with the duke's Spider.\"\n\n\"What are you speaking of? This is my tower; other than my servants, there is no one else here.\"\n\n\"True,\" said Capa Raza, \"so there is no need to maintain your little fiction before us, my lady.\"\n\n\"You,\" said Doña Vorchenza coldly and levelly, \"are greatly mistaken.\"\n\n\"Those files behind you, what are they? Recipes? Those notes beside your chair-does Stephen Reynart give you regular reports on the cuts and colors of this year's new dresses, fresh off the docks? Come, my lady. I have very unusual means of gathering information, and I am no dullard. I would construe any further dissembling on your part as a deliberate insult.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I regard your uninvited presence here,\" said Doña Vorchenza after a moment of consideration, \"as nothing less.\"\n\n\"I have displeased you,\" said Raza, \"and for that I apologize. But have you any means to back that displeasure with force? Your servants sleep peacefully; your Reynart and all of your Midnighters are elsewhere, prying into my affairs. You are alone with us, Doña Vorchenza, so why not speak civilly? I have come to be civil, and to speak in earnest.\"\n\nShe stared coldly at him for several moments, and then waved a hand atone of the solarium's armchairs. \"Have a seat, Master Revenge. I fear there's no comfortable chair for your associate.\"\n\n\"It will be well,\" said the Falconer. \"I'm very fond of writing desks.\" He settled himself behind the little desk near the door, while Raza crossed the room and sat down opposite Doña Vorchenza.\n\n\"Hmmm. Revenge, indeed. And have you had it?\"\n\n\"I have,\" said Capa Raza cheerfully. \"I find it's everything it's been made out to be.\"\n\n\"You bore Capa Barsavi some grudge?\"\n\n\"Ha! Some grudge, yes. It could be said that's why I had his sons murdered while he watched, and then fed him to the sharks he so loved.\"\n\n\"Old business between the two of you?\"\n\n\"I have dreamed of Vencarlo Barsavi's ruin for twenty years,\" said Raza. \"And now I've brought it about, and I've replaced him. I'm sorry if this affair has been... an inconvenience for you. But that is all that I am sorry for.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Barsavi was not a kind man,\" said Vorchenza. \"He was a ruthless criminal. But he was perceptive; he understood many things the lesser capas did not. The arrangement I made with him bore fruit on both sides.\"\n\n\"And it would be a shame to lose it,\" said Raza. \"I admire the Secret Peace very much, Doña Vorchenza. My admiration for it is quite distinct from my loathing for Barsavi. I should like to seethe arrangement continued in full. I gave orders to that effect, on the very night I took Barsavi's place.\"\n\n\"So my agents tell me,\" said Doña Vorchenza. \"But I must confess I had hoped to hear it in your own words before now.\"\n\n\"My delay was unavoidable,\" said Raza. \"But there we are; I have terrible manners, to which I readily admit. Allow me to make it up to you.\"\n\n\"How so?\"\n\n\"I should greatly enjoy a chance to attend the duke's Day of Changes feast; I am capable of dressing and acting rather well. I could be introduced as a gentleman of independent means-I assure you, no one in Raven's Reach would recognize me. I gazed up at these towers as a boy in Camorr. I should like to pay my proper respects to the peers of Camorr just once. I would not come without gifts; I have something rather lavish in mind.\"\n\n\"That,\" said Doña Vorchenza slowly, \"maybe too much to ask. Our worlds, Capa Raza, are not meant to meet; I do not come to your thieves' revels.\"\n\n\"Yet your agents do,\" he said cheerfully.\n\n\"No longer. Tell me, why did you order them exiled? The penalty for turncoating among your people is death. So why didn't they merit a knife across the throat?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Would you really prefer them dead, Doña Vorchenza?\"\n\n\"Hardly. But I am curious about your motives.\"\n\n\"I, for my part, thought they were transparent. I need to have a measure of security; I simply cannot leave your agents lying about underfoot, as Barsavi did. Of course, I didn't want to antagonize you more than necessary, so I presumed letting them live would be a friendly gesture.\"\n\n\"Hmmm.\"\n\n\"Doña Vorchenza,\" said Raza, \"I have every confidence that you will begin the work of inserting new agents into the ranks of my people almost immediately. I welcome it; may the most subtle planner win. But we have set aside the main point of this conversation.\"\n\n\"Capa Raza,\" said the doña, \"you do not seem to be a man who needs sentiments wrapped indelicacy to salve his feelings, so let me be plain. It is one thing entirely for the two of us to have a working relationship, to preserve the Secret Peace for the good of all Camorr. I am even content to meet with you here, if I must, assuming you are properly invited and escorted. But I simply cannot bring a man of your station into the duke's presence.\"\n\n\"That is disappointing,\" said Capa Raza. \"Yet he can have Giancana Meraggio as a guest, can he not? A man who utilized my predecessor's services on many occasions? And many other captains of shipping and finance who profited from arrangements with Barsavi's gangs? The Secret Peace enriches every peer of Camorr; I am, in effect, their servant. My forbearance keeps money in their pockets. Am I truly so base a creature that I cannot standby the refreshment tables awhile and merely enjoy the sights of the affair? Wander the Sky Garden and satisfy my curiosity?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Capa Raza,\" said Doña Vorchenza, \"you are plucking at strings of conscience that will yield no sound; I am not the duke's Spider because I have a soft heart. I mean you no insult, truly, but let me frame it in these terms; you have been Capa now for barely one week. I have only begun to form my opinion of you. You remain a stranger, sir; if you rule a year from now, and you maintain stability among the Right People, and preserve the Secret Peace, well then-perhaps some consideration could be given to what you propose.\"\n\n\"And that is how it must be?\"\n\n\"That is how it must be-for now.\"\n\n\"Alas,\" said Capa Raza. \"This refusal pains me more than you could know; I have gifts that I simply cannot wait until next year to reveal to all the peers of this fair city. I must, with all apologies, refuse your refusal.\"\n\n\"What on earth do you mean?\"\n\n\"Falconer...\"\n\nThe Bondsmage stood up at Doña Vorchenza's writing desk; he'd taken a quill in his hands and set one of her sheets of parchment out before him. \"Doña Vorchenza,\" he said as he wrote in a bold, looping script; \"Angiavesta Vorchenza, is it not? What a lovely name... what a very lovely, very true name...\"\n\nIn his left hand the silver thread wove back and forth; his fingers flew, and on the page a strange silver-blue glow began to arise; ANGIAVESTA VORCHENZA was outlined in that fire, and across the room the Doña moaned and clutched her head.\n\n\"I am sorry to press my case by less than amiable means, Doña Vorchenza,\" said Capa Raza, \"but can you not see that it would be to the duke's very great advantage to have meas his guest? Surely you would not want to deny him those gifts which I would place at his feet, with all due respect.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I cannot say...\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said the Falconer. \"Oh yes, you would be very pleased to accept this idea; to ensure that Capa Raza was invited to the Day of Changes feast, in the most cordial spirit of good fellowship.\"\n\nThe words on the parchment in his hands glowed more brightly.\n\n\"Capa Raza,\" said Doña Vorchenza slowly, \"you must... of course... accept the duke's hospitality.\"\n\n\"You will not be denied,\" said the Falconer. \"Capa Raza must agree to accept your invitation; you simply will not settle fora refusal.\"\n\n\"I will not... take no... for an answer.\"\n\n\"And I will not give it,\" said Raza. \"You are most kind, Doña Vorchenza. Most kind. And my gifts? I have four exquisite sculptures I should like to give to the duke. I have no need to intrude on his affairs; my men can simply leave them somewhere at the feast, with your cooperation. We can bring them to his attention when he is less pressed for time.\"\n\n\"How lovely,\" said the Falconer. \"You are very fond of this suggestion.\"\n\n\"Nothing... would please me more... Capa Raza. Very... proper of you.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Capa Raza, \"it is very proper of me. It is only just.\" He chuckled, then rose from his seat and waved to the Falconer.\n\n\"Doña Vorchenza,\" said the Bondsmage, \"this conversation has pleased you greatly. You will look forward to seeing Capa Raza at the Day of Changes, and to lending him every assistance in bringing his important gifts into Raven's Reach.\" He folded the parchment and slipped it into a waistcoat pocket, then made a few more gestures with his silver thread." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Doña Vorchenza blinked several times, and breathed deeply. \"Capa Raza,\" she said, \"must you really go? It has made fora pleasant diversion, speaking to you this evening.\"\n\n\"And I, for my part, have found you the most charming of hostesses, my lady Vorchenza.\" He bowed from the waist, right foot forward in perfect courtly fashion. \"But business is pressing everywhere; I must be about mine, and leave you to yours.\"\n\n\"So be it, dear boy.\" She began to rise, and he gestured for her to stay seated.\n\n\"No, no; don't trouble yourself on our account. We can find our way back down your lovely tower on our own; pray return to whatever you were doing before I interrupted.\"\n\n\"It was hardly an interruption,\" said Doña Vorchenza. \"I shall see you, then, on the Day of Changes? You will accept the invitation?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Capa Raza. He turned and favored her with a smile before he stepped out through the solarium door. \"I gladly accept your invitation. And I shall see you on the Day of Changes, at Raven's Reach.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The first true revolution in Camorr's criminal affairs came long before Capa Barsavi. It predated his rise by nearly fifty years, in fact, and it came about entirely as the result of a certain lack of self-control on the part of a pimp called Rude Trevor Vargas.\n\nRude Trevor had a great many other nicknames, most of them used privately in his little stable of whores. To say that he was an intemperate, murderous lunatic would wound the feelings of most intemperate, murderous lunatics. As was often the case, he was a greater danger to his own whores than the marks they plied for coppers and silvers. The only protection he really offered them was protection from his own fists, which could be had by giving him all but a tiny fraction of the money they worked for.\n\nOne night, a particularly put-upon whore found herself unwilling to participate in his preferred evening diversion, which was to take his pleasure from her mouth while pulling on her hair until she screamed in pain. Her bodice dagger was out before she realized it; she planted it just to the left of Trevor's manhood, in the joint of his thigh, and slashed to his right. There was an awful lot of blood, not to mention screaming, but Trevor's attempts to first fightback and then to flee were greatly hampered by the speed with which his life was gushing out between his legs. His (former) whore pulled him to the ground and sat on his back to keep him from crawling out of the room. His strength ebbed, and he died in very short order, mourned by exactly no one.\n\nThe next night, Trevor's capa sent another man around to takeover Trevor's duties. The women in Trevor's old stable welcomed him with smiling faces, and offered him a chance to tryout their services for free. Because he had a small pile of broken bricks where most people kept their brains, he accepted. When he was neatly undressed and separated from his weapons, he was stabbed to death from several directions at once. That really caught the attention of Trevor's old capa. The next night, he sent five or six men to straighten the situation out." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But a curious thing had happened. Another two or three packs of whores had gotten rid of their pimps; a growing nucleus of women claimed a warehouse in the northern Snare as their headquarters. The capa's men found not six or seven frightened whores, as they'd been told, but nearly two dozen angry women, who'd seen fit to arm themselves using all the coin they could muster.\n\nCrossbows are quite an equalizer, especially at close range, with the advantage of surprise. Those five or six men were never seen again.\n\nSo the war began in earnest. Those capas who had lost pimps and whores attempted to correct the situation, while with every passing day the number of women joining the rebellion grew. They hired several other gangs to serve as their own protection; they established houses of pleasure to their own standards, and began to workout of them. The service they offered, in comfortable and well-appointed chambers, was greatly superior to that which could be had from the gangs of whores still run by men, and prospective customers began to weigh in with their coin on the side of the ladies.\n\nThere was a great deal of blood. Dozens of whores were brutally murdered, and several of their bordellos were burnt to the ground. But for every lady of the night that fell, some capa's man would get the same. The ladies gave like for like as viciously as any capa in Camorr's history. Less than a year after Rude Trevor's death, the last few pimps clinging brutally to their livelihood were convinced (convinced to death, inmost cases) to give up their fight. An uneasy truce fell into place between the capas and the city's whores.\n\nEventually, this truce grew into a stable and mutually beneficial arrangement." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The whores of the city split amiably into two groups, defined by territory. The Docksies took the west side of Camorr, while the Guilded Lilies ruled in the east; and both organizations mingled comfortably in the Snare, where business was most plentiful. They continued to prosper; they hired loyal muscle of their own and ceased renting cutthroats from other gangs. While their lives could not be deemed pleasant, in light of their trade, at least they were now firmly in control of their own affairs, and free to enforce certain rules of decorum on their customers.\n\nThey built and preserved a monopoly, and in exchange for promising not to become involved in any other forms of crime, they secured the right to mercilessly crush any attempt to pimp women outside the purview of their two gangs. Naturally, some men didn't pay close attention to the rules the women set; they attempted to slap their whores around, or renege on their payments for services, or ignore the standards the ladies set concerning cleanliness and drunkenness.\n\nHard lessons were handed out. As many men learned to their sorrow, it's impossible to be intimidating when one angry woman has your cock between her teeth and another is holding a stiletto to your kidneys.\n\nWhen Vencarlo Barsavi slew his opponents and rose to prominence as the sole Capa of Camorr, even he dared not disturb the equilibrium that had grown between the traditional gangs and the two guilds of whores. He met with representatives from the Docksies and the Lilies; he agreed to let them preserve their quasi-autonomous status, and they agreed to regular payments for his assistance-payments, as a percentage of profits, significantly lower than any other dues paid to the capa by the Right People of Camorr.\n\nBarsavi realized something that too many men in the city were slow to grasp; an idea that he reinforced years later when he took the Berangias sisters to be his primary enforcers. He was wise enough to understand that the women of Camorr could be underestimated only at great peril to one's health." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"CAN YOU ASSURE me,\" said Ibelius, \"that you will take better care for yourself than you did previously, or that your friend Jean has taken for himself, this past week?\"\n\n\"Master Ibelius,\" said Locke, \"you are our physiker, not our mother. And as I have already told you a dozen times this afternoon, I am entirely prepared-body and mind-for this affair at Raven's Reach. I am the soul of caution.\"\n\n\"La, sir, if that is the case, I should hope never to meet the soul of recklessness.\"\n\n\"Ibelius,\" groaned Jean, \"let him alone; you are henpecking him without having the decency to marry him first.\"\n\nJean sat upon the sleeping pallet, haggard and rather scruffy; the darkness of the hairs thickening on his face only emphasized his own unnatural pallor. His injuries had been a close thing. A great wad of cloth was tied around his naked chest, and similar bandages wrapped his leg beneath his breeches and his upper right arm.\n\n\"These physikers are handy things,\" said Locke, adjusting his (formerly Meraggio's) coat cuffs, \"but I think next time we should pay a bit extra for the silent version, Jean.\"\n\n\"And then you may dress your own wounds, sir, and apply your own poultices-though I daresay it would be quicker and easier for the pair of you to simply dig your own graves and take your ease in them until your inevitable transition to a more quiet state of affairs!\"\n\n\"Master Ibelius,\" said Locke, grasping the old man by the arms, \"Jean and I are more grateful than we can say for your aid; I suspect that we would both be dead without your intervention. I mean to repay you for the time you've endured with us herein this hovel; I expect to come into a few thousand crowns in very short order. Some of it is yours; you shall have anew life far from herewith very full pockets. And the rest will be used to put Capa Raza under the earth; take heart. Look what Jean has already done to his sisters.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Take the role of the writer's aide, proceed with the narrative.\nTags: fantasy, heist, crime\nAuthor: Scott Lynch\nTitle: The Lies of Locke Lamora\nChapter: 29" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"CAN YOU ASSURE me,\" said Ibelius, \"that you will take better care for yourself than you did previously, or that your friend Jean has taken for himself, this past week?\"\n\n\"Master Ibelius,\" said Locke, \"you are our physiker, not our mother. And as I have already told you a dozen times this afternoon, I am entirely prepared-body and mind-for this affair at Raven's Reach. I am the soul of caution.\"\n\n\"La, sir, if that is the case, I should hope never to meet the soul of recklessness.\"\n\n\"Ibelius,\" groaned Jean, \"let him alone; you are henpecking him without having the decency to marry him first.\"\n\nJean sat upon the sleeping pallet, haggard and rather scruffy; the darkness of the hairs thickening on his face only emphasized his own unnatural pallor. His injuries had been a close thing. A great wad of cloth was tied around his naked chest, and similar bandages wrapped his leg beneath his breeches and his upper right arm.\n\n\"These physikers are handy things,\" said Locke, adjusting his (formerly Meraggio's) coat cuffs, \"but I think next time we should pay a bit extra for the silent version, Jean.\"\n\n\"And then you may dress your own wounds, sir, and apply your own poultices-though I daresay it would be quicker and easier for the pair of you to simply dig your own graves and take your ease in them until your inevitable transition to a more quiet state of affairs!\"\n\n\"Master Ibelius,\" said Locke, grasping the old man by the arms, \"Jean and I are more grateful than we can say for your aid; I suspect that we would both be dead without your intervention. I mean to repay you for the time you've endured with us herein this hovel; I expect to come into a few thousand crowns in very short order. Some of it is yours; you shall have anew life far from herewith very full pockets. And the rest will be used to put Capa Raza under the earth; take heart. Look what Jean has already done to his sisters.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A feat I'm in no condition to perform again,\" said Jean. \"Take care of yourself, Locke; I won't be able to come running to the rescue if something goes awry tonight.\"\n\n\"Though I have no doubt you would try,\" muttered Ibelius.\n\n\"Don't worry, Jean. It'll be nothing but a routine evening with the duke and his entire fucking court, assembled in a glass tower six hundred feet in the air. What could possibly go wrong?\"\n\n\"That sarcasm sounds halfhearted,\" said Jean. \"You're really looking forward to this, aren't you?\"\n\n\"Of course I am, Jean. Chains would be beside himself with glee if he were alive; I'm going to play Lukas Fehrwight in front of the gods-damned duke, not to mention all the other peers of our acquaintance. The de Marres, the Feluccias, old Javarriz... Glory to the Crooked Warden, it's going to be fantastic fucking fun. Assuming I'm on top of my game. And then... money in our pockets. And then revenge.\"\n\n\"When are you expected at the Salvara manor?\"\n\n\"Third hour of the afternoon, which means I've no more time to dawdle. Jean, Ibelius... how do I look?\"\n\n\"I would hardly recognize the man we laid on that sickbed not so many days ago,\" said Ibelius. \"I'll confess, you've a surprising degree of professional skill; I'd never conceived of such a thing as this false-facing of yours.\"\n\n\"That's to our advantage, Master Ibelius,\" said Jean. \"Very few have. You look ready for the evening, Master Fehrwight. Now, you're going to take the long way round to the Isla Durona, right?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Gods, yes. I'm only mad to a certain measure. I'll go north through the graveyards and up through the Quiet; I expect I won't see a soul once I'm out of Ashfall.\"\n\nAshe spoke, he draped himself with the oilcloak Jean had brought back from his encounter with the Berangias sisters, despite the sweltering heat. It would conceal his fine garments from sight until he reached the Hill of Whispers. A man dressed in evening best might attract too much attention from some of the lurkers in the dark places of Ashfall.\n\n\"I'm for Raven's Reach, then,\" said Locke. \"Until much later, Jean; rest up. Master Ibelius, favor Jean with your motherly attention; I hope to return with very good news.\"\n\n\"I shall be grateful if you return at all,\" said Ibelius.\n\nMIDSUMMER-MARK; the Day of Changes, the seventeenth of Parthis in the Seventy-eighth Year of Aza Guilla, as the Therin Calendar would have it. On the Day of Changes, the city of Camorr went mad.\n\nA Shifting Revel commanded the wide circular pond of the market, but this one was smaller and more ragged than the formal monthly Revels. The centerpiece of this one was a floating handball court made from a number of flat-topped barges lashed together. Teams of commoners had selected colors from out of a barrel; now randomly matched, they were mauling one another drunkenly as a crowd composed entirely of commoners cheered. When a team scored, a small boat with a beer keg lashed amidships would pull alongside the playing court and ladle out a drink for every man on that team. Naturally, the matches got wilder and dirtier as they progressed; quite a few players were flung into the water, thereto be fished out by a crew of diligent yellowjackets who wouldn't otherwise dream of interfering." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Commoners ruled the streets of lower Camorr on the Day of Changes." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They held wandering picnics, hauling ale barrels and wine bags around with them. Streams of celebrants would cross paths, jostle, join, and split; a gods'-eye view of the affair would have shown disorderly men and women circulating through the city streets like blood through the vessels of an inebriated man.\n\nIn the Snare, business was bountiful. The celebration sucked in sailors and visitors from foreign shores like a tidal pool drawing downward; a few hours of Camorri hospitality and the guest revelers were unlikely to be able to tell their asses from their eardrums. There would be few ships setting out from port the next day; few would have the able manpower necessary to raise so much as a flag pennant, let alone a sail.\n\nIn the Cauldron and the Narrows and the Dregs, Capa Raza's people celebrated their new ruler's largesse. By his order, dozens upon dozens of casks of cheap red wine had been rolled out in dog-carts. Those gangs that were too poor or too lazy to journey to the crossroads of wickedness that was the Snare drank themselves silly on their own doorsteps. Raza's garristas passed through the neighborhoods he claimed as his own with baskets of bread, passing them out to anyone who asked for them. It turned out that each loaf had either a copper piece or a silver piece baked into it, and when these hidden gifts were revealed (by means of a few unlucky broken teeth), not a single loaf of bread was safe from depredation south of the Temple District.\n\nRaza's Floating Grave was open for visitors; several of his garristas and their gangs amused themselves with a game of cards that grew to epic size; at its height, forty-five men and women were bickering and shuffling and drinking and screaming atone another on the floor above the dark waters of the Waste-the waters that had eaten Capa Barsavi and his entire family." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Raza was nowhere to be seen; Raza had business in the north that evening, and he told none outside his close circle of original servants that he would beat the duke's court, looking down on them from the tower of Raven's Reach.\n\nIn the Temple District, the Day of Changes was celebrated in a more restrained fashion. Each temple's full complement of priests and initiates traded places with another in an ever-shifting cycle. The black-robes of Aza Guilla's house conducted a stately ritual on the steps of Iono's temple; the servants of the Father of Grasping Waters did likewise at theirs. Dama Elliza and Azri, Morgante and Nara, Gandolo and Sendovani; all the delegations of the divine burned candles and sang to the sky before a different altar, then moved on a few minutes later. A few extra benedictions were offered at the burnt-out House of Perelandro, where a single old man in the white robes of the Lord of the Overlooked, recently summoned from Ashmere, pondered the mess of a temple that had been thrust into his care. He had no idea how to begin composing his report to the chief divine of Perelandro on the destruction he'd found in an Elderglass cellar-the existence of which he'd not been informed of before his journey.\n\nIn the North Corner and Fountain Bend, well-to-do young couples made for Twosilver Green, where it was thought to be good luck to make love on the eve of the Midsummer-mark. It was said that any union consummated there before Falselight would bring the couple whatever they most desired in a child. This was a pleasant bonus, if true, but for the time being most of the men and women hidden away among the crushed-stone paths and rustling walls of greenery desired only one another." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On the waters of Old Harbor, the frigate Satisfaction floated at anchor, yellow flags flying atop its masts, yellow lanterns shining even by day. A dozen figures moved on its deck, surreptitiously going about the business of preparing the ship for night action. Crossbows were racked at the masts, and canvas tarps flung over them. Antiboarding nets were hauled out below the rails on the ship's upper deck and set therefor rapid rigging, out of sight. Buckets of sand were set out to smother flames; if the shore engines let fly, some of them would surely hurl alchemical fire, against which water would be worse than useless.\n\nIn the darkened holds beneath the ship's upper deck, another three dozen men and women ate a large meal, to have their stomachs full when the time for action came. There wasn't an invalid among them; not so much as an ague fever.\n\nAt the foot of Raven's Reach, home and palace of Duke Nicovante of Camorr, a hundred carriages were parked in a spiraling fashion around the tower's base. Four hundred liveried drivers and guards milled about, enjoying refreshments brought to them by scampering men and women in the duke's colors. They would be there waiting all night for the descent of their lords and ladies. The Day of Changes was the only day of the year when nearly every peer of Camorr-every lesser noble from the Alcegrante islands and every last member of the Five Families in their glass towers-would be crammed together in one place, to drink and feast and scheme and intrigue and offer compliments and insults while the duke gazed down on them with his rheumy eyes. Each year the coming generation of Camorr's rulers watched the old guard gray a bit more before their eyes; each year their bows and curtsies grew slightly more exaggerated. Each year the whispers behind their hands grew more poisonous. Nicovante had, perhaps, ruled too long." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There were six chain elevators serving Raven's Reach; they rose and fell, rose and fell. With each new cage that creaked open at the top of the tower, anew flurry of people in colored coats and elaborate dresses was disgorged onto the embarkation terrace to mingle with the chattering flood of nobles and flatterers, power brokers and pretenders, merchants and idlers and drunkards and courtly predators. The sun beat down on this gathering with all of its power; the lords and ladies of Camorr seemed to be standing on a lake of molten silver, at the top of a pillar of white fire.\n\nThe air rippled with waves of heat as the iron cage holding Locke Lamora and the Salvaras swung, clattering, into the locking mechanisms at the edge of the duke's terrace.\n\n\"HOLY MARROWS,\" said Locke, \"but I have never seen the like. I have never been this high in the air; by the Hands Beneath the Waters, I have never been this high in society! My lord and lady Salvara, pardon me if I cling to you both like a drowning man.\"\n\n\"Sofia and I have been coming here since we were children,\" said Lorenzo. \"Every year, on this day. It's only overwhelming the first tenor eleven times you see it, believe me.\"\n\n\"I shall have to take you at your word, my lord.\"\n\nAttendants in black and silver livery, with rows of polished silver buttons gleaming in the sunlight, held the cage door open for them as Locke followed the Salvaras onto the embarkation terrace. A squad of blackjackets marched past, in full ceremonial dress, with rapiers carried over their shoulders in silver-chased scabbards. The soldiers wore tall black fur hats with medallions bearing the crest of the Duchy of Camorr just above their eyes. Locke winced to think at how those must have felt, marching back and forth beneath the sun's merciless consideration for hours on end. His own clothes were working up a healthy sweat, but he and his hosts had the option of moving inside the tower at will." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Don Lorenzo and Doña Sofia? My lord and lady Salvara?\"\n\nThe man who approached them from the edge of the crowd was very tall and wide-shouldered; he stood a full head above most of the Camorri present, and his angular features and singularly fair hair were the mark of the oldest, purest sort of Vadran blood. This man had roots in the far northeast, in Astrath or Vintila, the heartlands of the Kingdom of the Seven Marrows. Curiously, he was dressed in Nightglass Company black, with a captain's silver collar pips, and his voice was pure upper-class Camorr without the hint of any other accent.\n\n\"Why, yes,\" said Don Lorenzo.\n\n\"Your servant, my lord and lady. My name is Stephen Reynart; Doña Vorchenza, I believe, should have mentioned me to you.\"\n\n\"Oh, of course!\" Doña Sofia held out her hand; Reynart bent at the waist with his right foot forward, took her hand, and kissed the air just above it. \"So pleased to make your acquaintance at last, Captain Reynart. And how is dear Doña Vorchenza this afternoon?\"\n\n\"She is knitting, my lady,\" said Reynart, with a smirk that told of some private joke. \"She has commandeered one of the duke's sitting rooms for herself; you know how she feels about large, noisy gatherings.\"\n\n\"I must, of course, find her,\" said Sofia. \"I should love to see her.\"\n\n\"I'm sure the feeling will be mutual, my lady. But may I presume? Is this Master Fehrwight, the merchant of Emberlain I was told you would be bringing?\" Reynart bowed again, just the neck this time, and in heavily accented Vadran he said, \"May the Marrows run sweet and the seas run calm, Master Fehrwight.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"May the Hands Beneath the Waves carry you to good fortune,\" Locke replied in his own much smoother Vadran, genuinely surprised. He switched back to Therin for the sake of politeness. \"One of my countrymen, Captain Reynart? In the service of the duke of Camorr? How fascinating!\"\n\n\"I am most definitely of the Vadran blood,\" said Reynart, \"but my parents died when I was an infant, on a trading mission to this city. I was adopted and raised by Doña Vorchenza, the countess of Amberglass-the bright golden tower over there. She had no children of her own. Although I cannot inherit her title and her properties, I have been allowed to serve in the duke's Nightglass Company.\"\n\n\"Astonishing! I must say, you look exceedingly formidable-the image of the kings of the Marrows themselves. I'd wager the duke is only too pleased to have you in his service.\"\n\n\"I hope with all my heart for that to be true, Master Fehrwight. But come; I'm holding you up. I beg pardon, my lord and lady Salvara; I am hardly a worthy topic of conversation. Let me show you into the tower, by your leave.\"\n\n\"By all means,\" said Sofia. She leaned close to Locke's ear and whispered, \"Doña Vorchenza is a dear old thing, something like a grandmother to all of us Alcegrante ladies. She is the arbiter of all our gossip, you might say. She is not well-she is more and more distant with every passing month-but she is still very close to us. I hope you will have the chance to make her acquaintance.\"\n\n\"I shall look forward to it, my lady Salvara.\"\n\nReynart ushered them into the tower of Raven's Reach itself, and the sight that met Locke's eyes drew an unwilling gasp from his mouth." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "From the outside, Raven's Reach was opaque silver. From the inside, at least on the levels he could see, it was nearly transparent. A smoky haze seemed to live within the glass, cutting out the glare of the sun, reducing it to a plain white circle overhead that the naked eye could easily bear to regard. But in all other ways it let in the view as though it were not thereat all. The hilly countryside and the wide Angevine lay to the north, while all the islands of the lower city lay spread like illustrations on a map to the south. Locke could even make out the thin black shapes of ships\" masts bobbing past the southern edge of the city. His stomach fluttered with the thrill of vertigo.\n\nOn the level of the tower just above them, the Sky Garden began; there were said to be a hundred tons of rich earth in the pots and troughs atop that roof. Vines cascaded down the sides; well-tended bushes and full-sized trees sprouted from the apex of the tower-a little round forest in miniature. In the branches of one of those trees, facing south to the Iron Sea, was a wooden chair that was regarded as the very highest point in Camorr any sane person could reach. The Sky Garden would be full of children; it was where all the youngest nobles would be released to amuse themselves while their parents tended to the business of the court beneath their feet.\n\nThe floor they stood on did not cover the full hundred-foot width of the tower; it was a hemisphere, covering only the north half of the tower's diameter. Locke grasped a rail at the southern edge of the floor and looked down; there were four other hemispherical galleries beneath them, each about twenty feet below the one above, and each one full of men and women. The vertigo threatened to swallow him again. Staring down at least eighty feet to'ground,\" with the transparent side of the tower and that mind-twisting southern view spread out before him, he felt almost as though the world were tilting on its axis. The hand of Don Salvara on his shoulder brought him back to the present." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You've got Raven's Reach disease, Lukas,\" the don laughed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're clutching that rail like a lover. Come have some refreshments; your eyes will sort out the views in time, and it will all come to seem perfectly normal.\"\n\n\"Oh, my lord Salvara, if only that should prove to be the case! But I would be glad to visit the banquet tables.\"\n\nThe don led him through the press of silks and cottons and cashmeres and rare furs, nodding here and waving there. Sofia had vanished, along with Reynart.\n\nThe banquet tables (or perhaps these were merely the appetizer tables; the light afternoon refreshments at a feast like this could rival the main course from any lesser occasion) were laid outwith silver-trimmed linen cloths, fifty feet from end to end. Guild Chefs-the masters of the Eight Beautiful Arts of Camorr-stood at attention in their cream-yellow ceremonial robes and black scholars' caps with hanging gold cords behind their ears. Each chef, male or female, had intricate black tattoos on each of the four fingers of their hands; every design representing mastery of one of the Eight Gourmet Forms.\n\nAtone end of the banquet table were desserts (the Fifth Beautiful Art): cherry cream cakes encased in shells of gold leaf that were intended to be eaten; cinnamon tarts painstakingly assembled with honey-paste glue into the shape of sailing vessels, a whole fleet of little ships with white marzipan sails and raisins for crewmen. There were hollowed-out pears, their cores replaced with cylinders of river-melon fruit or brandy creams; there were shaved river-melons, their green exteriors scraped down to reveal the pink flesh inside. Every exposed pink face bore a relief sculpture of the crest of Camorr, and alchemical globes set within the melons made them glow with an inviting pink light." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At the other end of the table were meats. Each one of the silver platters held a phantasmavola: an Impossible Dish, an imaginary animal formed by joining the halves of two separate creatures during preparation and cooking. Locke saw a roast boar with the head of a salmon, resting on a pile of black caviar. Nearby there was a pig's head, complete with a marsh apple in its mouth, with a roast capon fora body. The whole affair was covered in brown caramel sauce and figs, and Locke gave into the growling sensation at the bottom of his stomach. He let one of the chefs slice him a fair portion of the pig/capon, which he ate from a silver dish with a little silver fork; it came apart in his mouth with the texture of butter, and the flavors set his head whirling. He hadn't tasted anything so magnificent in weeks, and he knew that it would have taken all of his powers, with the help of the Sanza brothers at their peak, to prepare something so fine in his old glass cellar. But that thought stole some of the savor from his meal, and he finished quickly.\n\nThe bullock's head with the body of a squid, he was happy to avoid.\n\nAt the center of the banquet tables was the crowning glory (of this particular level, at least). It was a massively unsubtle subtlety, eight feet in length: an edible sculpture of the city of Camorr. The islands were baked sweetbread on little raised metal platforms; the channels between those platforms ran deep with some blue liquor that was being ladled out in cups by a chef at the right side of the diorama. Each major bridge in the city was represented by a crystallized-sugar replica; each major Elderglass landmark was given a tiny analog, from the Broken Tower in the south to the House of Glass Roses to the Five Towers overlooking everything. Locke peered very closely. There was even a tiny frosted chocolate galleon little bigger than an almond, floating on a brown pudding Wooden Waste." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How are you faring, Lukas?\"\n\nDon Salvara was beside him again, wineglass in hand; a black-coated attendant plucked Locke's used dish from his fingers the moment he turned to speak to the don.\n\n\"I am overwhelmed,\" said Locke, without much exaggeration. \"I had no idea what to expect. By the Marrows, perhaps it is well that I had no preconceptions. The court of the king of the Marrows must be like this; I can think of nowhere else that would possibly compare.\"\n\n\"You honor our city with your kind thoughts,\" said Lorenzo. \"I'm very pleased you decided to join us; I've just been around chatting with a few of my peers. I'll have a serious talk with one of them in about an hour; I think he'll be good for about three thousand crowns. I hate to say it, but he's rather malleable, and he's very fond of me.\"\n\n\"Lukas,\" cried Doña Sofia as she reappeared with Reynart at her heels, \"is Lorenzo showing you around properly?\"\n\n\"My lady Salvara, I am quite astounded by the spectacle of this feast; I daresay your husband could leave me sitting in a corner with my thumb in my mouth, and I would be adequately entertained all evening.\"\n\n\"I would do no such thing, of course,\" laughed Don Salvara. \"I was just off speaking to Don Bellarigio, love; he's herewith that sculptor he's been patronizing these past few months, that Lashani fellow with the one eye.\"\n\nA team of liveried attendants walked past, four men carrying something heavy on a wooden bier between them. The object was a gold-and-glass sculpture of some sort-a gleaming pyramid crested with the arms of Camorr; it must have had alchemical lamps within it, for the glass glowed a lovely shade of orange. As Locke watched, the color shifted to green, and then to blue, and then to white, and back to orange again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Oh, how lovely!\" Doña Sofia was clearly enamored with all things alchemical. \"The shifting hues! Oh, those adjustments must be precise; how I would love to see inside! Tell me, can Don Bellarigio's Lashani sculpt me one of those?\"\n\nThree more teams of men hauled three more sculptures past; each one shifted through a slightly different pattern of changing colors.\n\n\"I don't know,\" said Reynart. \"Those are gifts for the duke, from one of our... more unusual guests. They've been cleared with my superiors; they certainly do look lovely.\"\n\nLocke turned back to the banquet table and suddenly found himself six feet away from Giancana Meraggio, who had an orchid at his breast, a silver plate of fruit in one hand, and a gorgeous young woman in a red gown on the other. Meraggio's gaze passed over Locke, then whirled back; those penetrating eyes fixed on him, and on the clothes he wore. The master money-changer opened his mouth, seemed to think better of it, and then opened it again.\n\n\"Sir,\" said Meraggio in a cold voice, \"I beg your pardon, but-\"\n\n\"Why, Master Meraggio!\" Don Salvara stepped up beside him. At the sight of a don, Meraggio shut his mouth once again and bowed politely, from the waist, though not very deeply.\n\n\"Don Salvara,\" said Meraggio, \"and the lovely Doña Sofia. What a pleasure to see you both! Greetings to you as well, Captain Reynart.\" He dismissed the tall Vadran from his consideration with a shift of his head and peered at Locke again.\n\n\"Master Meraggio,\" said Locke. \"Why, what a fortunate coincidence! It is a pleasure to meet you at last; I have looked for you at your countinghouse, many times, and I am afraid I have never had a chance to pay my proper respects.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Indeed? Why, I was just about to ask... who might you be, sir?\"\n\n\"Master Meraggio,\" said Don Salvara, \"allow me to present Lukas Fehrwight, merchant of Emberlain, servant of the House of bel Auster. He has comedown to discuss the import of a certain quantity of small beer; I'd like to see how those Emberlain ales fare against our native best. Lukas, this is the honorable Giancana Meraggio, master of the countinghouse that bears his name, known by many as the Duke of White Iron, for very good reason. All finance whirls around him like the constellations in the sky.\"\n\n\"Your servant, sir,\" said Locke.\n\n\"Of Emberlain? Of the House of bel Auster?\"\n\n\"Why yes,\" said Doña Sofia, \"he's here at the feast as our special guest.\"\n\n\"Master Meraggio,\" said Locke, \"I hope I do not presume too much, but do you find the cut of my coat pleasing? And the fabric?\"\n\n\"A singular question,\" said Meraggio, scowling, \"for both seem strangely familiar.\"\n\n\"And well they should,\" said Locke. \"On the advice of the Salvaras, I secured for myself a single suit of clothes cut in your Camorri style. I requested of the tailor that he select a cut that was especially favored by the best-known taste in the entire city. And who should he name but yourself, sir; this suit of clothes is fashioned after your very own preferences! I hope you will not find me forward if I say that I find it most excellently comfortable.\"\n\n\"Oh, no,\" said Meraggio, looking terribly confused. \"Oh, no. Not too forward at all-very flattering, sir, very flattering. I, um... I do not feel entirely well; the heat, you see. I believe I shall avail myself of some of the punch from that subtlety. It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Fehrwight. If you will excuse me, Doña Sofia, Don Lorenzo.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Meraggio moved off, peering back over his shoulder at Locke and then shaking his head. Oh, Crooked Warden, thought Locke, you're one funny son of a bitch, aren't you?\n\n\"Lukas,\" said Doña Sofia, \"have you had enough food for the time being?\"\n\n\"I believe I shall keep rather well, my lady.\"\n\n\"Good! Why not hunt down Doña Vorchenza with me; she's hiding down on one of the other galleries, hunched over her knitting. If she's lucid today, you'll love her, I guarantee it.\"\n\n\"Doña Vorchenza,\" said Reynart, \"is in the northernmost apartment of the western gallery, two floors down. Do you know the place I speak of?\"\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" said Sofia. \"What do you say, Lukas? Let us pay our respects; Lorenzo can circulate and work on the important affairs he should be looking into.\"\n\n\"The matter has not slipped my mind, darling,\" said Don Lorenzo with mock irritation. \"Master Fehrwight, I for my part hope the old doña is speaking Therin this evening; you may find yourself being introduced to the equivalent of a stone statue. Or perhaps she merely behaves that way when I'm in the room.\"\n\n\"I wish I could say that it was entirely an affectation, my lord Salvara,\" said Reynart. \"I should circulate fora while and try to look as though I'm actually on duty. Give my affection to Doña Vorchenza, my lady Sofia.\"\n\n\"Of course, Captain. Are you coming, Lukas?\"\n\nThe doña led him to one of the wide Elderglass staircases with lacquered wooden banisters. Softly glowing alchemical lamps in ornate casings gleamed at the foot of the stairs; they would be lovely after dark. The layout of the floor was the same as that of the one above; there was another fifty-foot banquet table crowded with delicacies and wonders, and one of the strangely beautiful glass-and-gold pyramids had been set down beside it. Curious, thought Locke." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My lady Salvara,\" he said, smiling and pointing, \"perhaps a few attendants could be convinced to borrow one of those sculptures when we leave, and you could have your peek inside?\"\n\n\"Oh, Lukas. If only-but one does not repay the duke's hospitality by borrowing his decorative fixtures on a whim. Come, we need to go down to the next level. Lukas? Lukas, what's the matter?\"\n\nLocke had frozen, looking straight at the staircase that led down to the level below. Someone was just coming up that staircase-a lean and fit-looking man in a gray coat, gray gloves, and gray breeches. His vest and four-cornered hat were black, his neck-cloths were rich scarlet, and on his left hand he wore a very familiar ring, over the leather of his glove; Barsavi's ring, the black pearl of the Capa of Camorr.\n\nLocke Lamora matched gazes with Capa Raza, his heart beating like a war galley's drum. The lord of Camorr's underworld halted, dumbfounded; sheer bewilderment fluttered across his face-a look that made mirth rise up from the bottom of Locke's soul. Then for the briefest second there was hatred; Raza ground his teeth together and the lines of his face tautened. Finally he seemed to have control of himself. He twirled a gold-capped swagger stick of lacquered black witchwood, stuck it beneath his left arm, and strolled casually toward Locke and Doña Sofia.\n\n\"SURELY,\" SAID Capa Raza, \"surely, you must be a doña of Camorr; I do not believe I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance, gracious lady.\" He swept off his hat and bent from the waist at the ideal angle, right foot out before his left." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am Doña Sofia Salvara, of the Isla Durona,\" she said. She held out her hand; he took it and kissed the air above it.\n\n\"Your servant, my lady Salvara. I am Luciano Anatolius; charmed, my lady, quite charmed. And your companion? Have we met?\"\n\n\"I do not believe so, sir,\" said Locke. \"You look strangely familiar, but I'm sure I would recall if we had met before.\"\n\n\"Master Anatolius, this is Lukas Fehrwight, a merchant of Emberlain, of the House of bel Auster,\" said Sofia. \"My personal guest here at the duke's feast.\"\n\n\"A merchant of Emberlain? Greetings to you, sir; why, you must be very resourceful, to make it all the way up here, into such rarefied circles.\"\n\n\"I do what I must, sir, I do what I must. I have some unusually good friends in Camorr; they often bring me unexpected advantages.\"\n\n\"I don't doubt it. The House of bel Auster, you say? The famous liquor merchants? How grand; I'm as fond of a good draught as the next man. In fact, I prefer to make all of my purchases by the cask.\"\n\n\"Indeed, sir?\" Locke smiled. \"Why, that is the specialty of my firm; a great many wonderful and surprising things come out of our casks. We pride ourselves on always giving satisfaction-on always delivering full value for value received. Like for like, if you take my meaning.\"\n\n\"I do,\" said Capa Raza, with a grim smile of his own. \"An admirable business practice; one near to my own heart.\"\n\n\"But surely,\" said Locke, \"I remember now why you must be familiar, Master Anatolius. Do you not have a sister? Perhaps a pair of them? I seem to recall having met them, at some occasion-the resemblance seems very striking.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No,\" said Capa Raza, scowling, \"I'm afraid you're very much mistaken; I have no sisters. Doña Sofia, Master Fehrwight, it has been a distinct pleasure making your acquaintance, but I fear I have pressing business elsewhere; I wish you both much pleasure at the feast this evening.\"\n\nLocke held out his hand and put on an innocent friendly smile. \"It is always a pleasure to make new acquaintances, Master Anatolius. Perhaps we shall see each other again?\"\n\nCapa Raza glared down at Locke's outstretched hand, then seemed to remember himself; he could hardly refuse such a courtesy without causing a great stir. His strong hand clasped Locke's forearm, and Locke returned the gesture. The fingers of Locke's other hand twitched; if only his stiletto had not been inconveniently hidden in a boot, he would now be tempted beyond all rational thought. \"You are very good, Master Fehrwight,\" said Capa Raza with a placid face, \"but I very much doubt it.\"\n\n\"If I have learned anything about this city, Master Anatolius,\" said Locke, \"I have learned that it is quite full of surprises. Avery good evening to you.\"\n\n\"And to you,\" said Raza, \"merchant of Emberlain.\"\n\nHe moved quickly away into the crowd; Locke watched him all the way. Raza turned once and their eyes locked yet again, and then the Capa was gone, up the stairs to the next level, gray coat fluttering in his wake.\n\n\"Lukas,\" said Doña Sofia, \"did I miss something?\"\n\n\"Miss something?\" Locke gave her another innocent Fehrwight smile. \"I don't believe so, my lady. It is just that that man greatly resembled someone I once knew.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A friend from Emberlain?\"\n\n\"Oh no,\" said Locke. \"Not a friend. And the man in question is dead-he is very, very dead.\" Aware that he was clenching his teeth, he let ease return to his countenance. \"Shall we go find your Doña Vorchenza, my lady?\"\n\n\"Why, yes,\" said Sofia. \"Yes, let's be about it. Do follow me.\"\n\nShe led him down the stairs Raza had come up, down to yet another gallery packed rim to rim with the quality: \"blue bloods and gold bloods,\" as Father Chains might have put it. Instead of a banquet table, this level held a bar-forty feet of polished witchwood staffed by two dozen men and women in the duke's livery. Behind them, on tables and shelves, rose thousands upon thousands of glass bottles. Alchemical lamps had been placed behind them, and they bathed the gallery in cascading ribbons of color. Huge pyramids of wineglasses and beer glasses were set off to the sides of the bar, cordoned off behind velvet ropes; one unprofessional gesture would send hundreds of crowns worth of fine crystal crashing to the floor. Blackjackets stood at stiff attention beside the glass-pyramids, as an added assurance. And speaking of pyramids-another one of the lovely pyramid sculptures had been set out here, a few feet to the right of the bar, behind one of the velvet ropes.\n\nDoña Sofia led him to the west, past the bar and the long line of nobles waiting to take in the liquid courage of their choice; some of them were already obviously impaired in the fine art of standing up straight. On the western wall of the gallery there was a heavy witchwood door bearing the silver seal of Duke Nicovante's personal arms. Doña Sofia pushed this door open and led him into a curving hallway lit by the soft silver glow of alchemical lanterns. There were three doors in this hall, and Doña Sofia brought him to the one at the far end, near what Locke supposed was the northern wall of the tower." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Now,\" said Doña Sofia with a smirk, \"it will either be Doña Vorchenza, or it will be a pair of young people doing something they should not...\"\n\nShe slid the door open and peeked inside, and then tugged on Locke's sleeve. \"It's quite all right,\" she whispered. \"It's her.\"\n\nLocke and Sofia were looking into a nearly square chamber with a slightly curved outer wall; unlike the public galleries, the Elderglass surface in this part of the tower was opaque. A single window was on the northern wall, its wooden shade cracked open to let in the sunlight and the warm air of the late afternoon.\n\nThere was a single tall-backed wooden chair in the room, and it held a single hunchbacked old lady; she was bent over a pair of glittering needles, utterly fixated on the unidentifiable object that was flowing into her lap from her efforts. A few rolls of black wool yarn lay at her feet. She was eccentrically dressed, in a man's black coat and a pair of dark purple pantaloons such as cavalry officers traditionally wore; her little black slippers curved up at the ends like something from a fairy story. Her eyes seemed to be clear behind her half-moon optics, but they didn't lookup from her knitting when Doña Sofia led Locke into the center of the room.\n\n\"Doña Vorchenza?\" Sofia cleared her throat and raised her voice.\n\n\"Doña Vorchenza? It's Sofia, my lady... I've brought someone for you to meet.\"\n\nSnick-snick, went Doña Vorchenza's needles, snick-snick. But those eyes did not lookup.\n\n\"Doña Angiavesta Vorchenza,\" said Sofia to Locke, \"dowager countess of Amberglass. She, ah... she comes and goes.\" Sofia sighed. \"Might I beg you to stay herewith her for just a moment? I'm going to the bar; she often takes white wine. Perhaps a glass of it will bring her back to us.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Of course, Doña Sofia,\" said Locke cheerfully." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I would be very honored to wait on the countess. Fetch her whatever you feel proper.\"\n\n\"Can I bring you anything, Lukas?\"\n\n\"Oh, no, you are too kind, my lady. I shall have something later, perhaps.\"\n\nSofia nodded and withdrew from the room, closing the door with a click behind her. Locke paced fora few moments, hands behind his back.\n\nSnick-snick, went the needles, snick-snick. Locke raised an eyebrow. The object flowing forth from those needles remained a perfect mystery. Perhaps it wasn't yet near completion. He sighed, paced a bit more, and turned to stare out the window.\n\nThe green-and-brown hills spread out to the curving horizon north of the city; Locke could seethe brown lines of roads, and the particolored roofs of small buildings, and the gray-blue of the Angevine, all fading into heat-haze and distance. The sun suffused everything in hot white light; there wasn't a cloud to be seen.\n\nThere was a sudden vicious stabbing pain at the back of his neck, on the left side.\n\nLocke whirled and slapped a hand to the site of the pain; there was a bit of wetness beneath his fingers. Doña Angiavesta Vorchenza, dowager countess of Amberglass, stood before him, drawing back the knitting needle she had just plunged into the back of his neck. Now her eyes were lively behind those half-moon optics, and a smile broke out of the network of lines on her lean face.\n\n\"Gaaaaaaaaaaaah-owwwwww!\" He rubbed at the back of his neck and maintained his Vadran accent only with the greatest difficulty. \"What the hell was that?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Grief-willow, Master Thorn,\" said Doña Vorchenza. \"The poison of the grief-willow tree, which I'm sure you've heard of. You have but a few minutes to live... and now I should very much like to spend them speaking to you.\"\n\n\"YOU... YOU...\"\n\n\"Stabbed you in the neck. Yes, well, I must confess it gave me pleasure, dear boy. What can I say? You have led us on a trying chase.\"\n\n\"But... but... Doña Vorchenza, I do not understand. How have I given offense?\"\n\n\"You may abandon the Vadran accent. It's excellent, but I'm afraid you won't be able to smile and bluff your way out of this one, Master Thorn.\"\n\nLocke sighed and rubbed his eyes. \"Doña Vorchenza, if that needle was really poisoned, why the hell should I bother telling you anything?\"\n\n\"Now that's a sensible question.\" She reached down the front of her tunic and drew out a little glass vial, capped with silver. \"In exchange for your cooperation, I'm prepared to offer you the antidote. You will, of course, come peacefully with me. You're hundreds of feet in the air, and everyone of my Midnighters is currently here, dressed as staff. You'd be rather ignominiously treated if you tried to run so much as ten feet past that hallway.\"\n\n\"Your... Midnighters... You mean-you must be fucking kidding. You're the Spider?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, \"and by the gods, it feels good to finally fling that in the face of someone who can appreciate it.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Locke, \"the Spider is... or at least I thought the Spider was-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"A man? You and all the rest of this city, Master Thorn. I have always found the presumptions of others to be the best possible disguise-haven't you?\"\n\n\"Hmmm.\" Locke chuckled morosely. A tingling numbness was spreading around the wound; it definitely wasn't just his imagination. \"Hanged by my own rope, Doña Vorchenza.\"\n\n\"You must be brilliant, Master Thorn,\" said Doña Vorchenza. \"I shall give you that; to do what you've done, to keep my people guessing these past few years... Gods, I wish I didn't have to put you in a crow's cage. Perhaps a deal could be arranged, once you've had a few years to think it over. It must be very new, and very odd, to finally have someone spring such a trap on you.\"\n\n\"Oh, no.\" Locke sighed and put his face in his hands. \"Oh, Doña Vorchenza, I'm so sorry to disappoint you, but the list of people that haven't outsmarted me seems to begetting smaller all the fucking time.\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Doña Vorchenza, \"that can't be pleasant. But come, you must be feeling rather strange by now; you must be unsteady on your feet. Just say yes. Give me the location of the funds you've stolen, and perhaps those years in the Palace of Patience can be mitigated. Give me the names of your accomplices, and I'm sure an accommodation can be reached.\"\n\n\"Doña Vorchenza,\" said Locke forcefully, \"I have no accomplices, and even if I did, I certainly wouldn't tell you who they were.\"\n\n\"What about Graumann?\"\n\n\"Graumann is a hireling,\" said Locke. \"He thinks I'm really a merchant of Emberlain.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And those so-called bandits in the alley beside the Temple of Fortunate Waters?\"\n\n\"Hirelings, long since fled back to Talisham.\"\n\n\"And the false Midnighters, the ones who visited the Salvaras?\"\n\n\"Homunculi,\" said Locke. \"They crawl out of my ass every full moon; they've been a problem for years.\"\n\n\"Oh, Master Thorn... grief-willow will still that tongue of yours rather permanently. You don't have to speak your secrets now; just surrender so I can give you this vial, and we can continue this conversation in more pleasant surroundings.\"\n\nLocke stared at Doña Vorchenza for several long seconds; he locked his gaze with those ancient eyes of hers and saw the obvious satisfaction in them, and his right hand curled into a fist of its own accord. Perhaps Doña Vorchenza was soused to her aura of privilege she forgot their disparity in ages; perhaps she'd simply never conceived that a man of apparent refinement, even a criminal, could do what Locke did next.\n\nHe punched her square in the teeth, a whirling right that would have been comical had he thrown it against a younger, sturdier woman. But it snapped Doña Vorchenza's head back; her eyes rolled up and she buckled at the knees. Locke caught her as she toppled, carefully plucking the vial from her fingers while he did so. He heaved her back into her chair, then uncapped the vial and poured its contents down his throat. The warm fluid tasted like citrus; he gulped it eagerly and threw the vial aside. Then, working with the utmost haste, he took off his coat and used it to tie Doña Vorchenza into her chair, knotting the sleeves several times behind her back." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her head lolled forward and she groaned; Locke gave her a pat on the shoulder. On an impulse, he ran his hands quickly (and as politely as possible) through her waistcoat; he grunted in satisfaction when he turned up a little silk purse, jingling with coins. \"Not what I was hoping for,\" he said, \"but we'll call it fair payment fora gods-damned needle in the neck, hmmm?\"\n\nLocke stood up and paced fora few moments. He turned back to Doña Vorchenza, knelt before her, and said, \"My lady, it wounds me to have to treat someone such as yourself so crudely; the truth is, I admire you very much and at any other time I'd be very curious to hear just where I fucked up and tipped you off. But you must admit, I'd have to be crazy to go with you; the Palace of Patience simply does not suit. So thank you for the very interesting afternoon, and give my regards to Don and Doña Salvara.\"\n\nWith that, he pushed the wooden shutter as wide as it would go and stepped out the window.\n\nThe exterior of Raven's Reach, considered up close, was actually covered with irregularities, with little indentations and ledges, circling the tower at virtually every level. Locke slipped out onto a slender ledge about six inches wide; he pressed his stomach up against the warm glass of the tower and waited for the pounding of the blood within his temples to cease sounding like a pummeling from a heavy man's fists. It didn't, and he sighed.\n\n\"I am the king idiot,\" he muttered, \"of all the world's fucking idiots.\"\n\nThe warm wind pushed at his back as he inched to his right; the ledge grew wider a few moments later, and he found an indentation in which to place his hand. Confident that he was in no immediate danger of falling, Locke glanced downward over his shoulder, and immediately regretted it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Seeing Camorr spread out behind glass offered a layer of insulation between the viewer and the vista; out here, it seemed as though the whole world fell away in avast arc. He wasn't six hundred feet in the air, he was a thousand, ten thousand, a million-some incomprehensible number of feet that only the gods were fit to dare. He squeezed his eyes shut and clutched at the glass wall as though he could pour himself into it, like mortar into stones. The pork and capon in his stomach made enthusiastic inquiries about coming up in a nauseous torrent; his throat seemed to be on the verge of granting the request.\n\nGods, he thought, I wonder if I'm on one of the transparent sections of the tower? I must look pretty fucking funny.\n\nThere was a creaking noise from overhead; he looked up and gasped.\n\nOne of the elevator cages was coming down toward him; it would be inline with him on the face of the tower, and it would pass by about three feet from the wall he was clinging to.\n\nIt was empty.\n\n\"Crooked Warden,\" Locke whispered, \"I'll do this, but the only thing I ask, the only thing, is that when this is done, you make me fucking forget. Steal this memory out of my head. And I will never climb more than three feet off the ground as long as I draw breath. Praise be.\"\n\nThe cage creaked down; it was ten feet above him, then five feet, and then its bottom was even with his eyes. Breathing in deep, ragged, panicky gasps, Locke turned himself around on the tower, so that his back was against the glass. The sky and the world beneath his feet both seemed too big to fit into his eyes; gods, he didn't want to think about them. The cage was sliding past; its bars were right there, three feet away over fifty-some stories of empty air." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He screamed, and pushed himself off the glass wall of the tower. When he hit the blackened iron sidebars of the cage, he clung as desperately as any cat ever clung to a tree branch; the cage swayed back and forth, and Locke did his best to ignore the incredible things that did to the sky and the horizon. The cage door; he had to slip the cage door. They closed tight but didn't have elaborate locks.\n\nWorking with hands that shivered as though the air were freezing, Locke slipped the bolt on the cage's door and let it fall open. He then swung himself gingerly around the corner, from the exterior to the interior, and with one last burst of dreadful vertigo reached out and slammed the door shut behind him. He sat down on the floor of the cage, gasping in deep breaths, shaky with relief and the aftereffects of the poison.\n\n\"Well,\" he muttered, \"that was fucking hideous.\"\n\nAnother elevator cage full of noble guests drew upward, twenty feet to his right; the men and women in the cage looked at him very curiously, and he waved.\n\nHe half dreaded that the cage would lurch to a halt before it reached the ground and start to drawback up; he decided if it did that he would take his chances with the Palace of Patience. But the cage continued all the way down; Vorchenza must still be tied to her chair, out of the action. Locke was on his feet when the cage settled against the ground; the liveried men who opened the door peered in at him with wide eyes.\n\n\"Excuse me,\" said one of them, \"but were you... did you... were you in this cage when it left the embarkation platform?\"\n\n\"Of course,\" said Locke. \"That shape you saw, darting out from the tower? Bird. Biggest gods-damned bird you ever saw. Scared the piss right out of me, let me tell you. I say, are any of these carriages for hire?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Go to the outer row,\" said the footman, \"and look for the ones with the white flags and lanterns.\"\n\n\"Much obliged.\" Locke rapidly perused the contents of Doña Vorchenza's coin purse; there was a very satisfactory quantity of gold and silver inside. He tossed a solon apiece to the liveried men beside the cage as he stepped out. \"It was a bird, right?\"\n\n\"Yes, sir,\" said the other man with a tip of his black cap. \"Biggest gods-damned bird we ever saw.\"\n\nTHE HIRED carriage left him at the Hill of Whispers; he paid very well-the'forget you made this run\" sort of well-and then he walked south through Ashfall on his own. It was perhaps the sixth hour of the evening when he returned to the hovel, bursting through the curtained door, yelling as he came-\n\n\"Jean, we have one hell of a fucking problem-\"\n\nThe Falconer stood in the center of the little room, smirking at Locke, his hand folded before him. Locke took in the tableau in a split second: Ibelius lay motionless against the far wall, and Jean lay slumped at the Bondsmage's feet, writhing in pain.\n\nVestris perched upon her master's shoulder; she fixed him with those black-and-gold eyes, then opened her beak and screeched triumphantly. Locke winced at the noise.\n\n\"Oh yes, Master Lamora,\" said the Falconer. \"Yes, I'd say you do have one hell of a fucking problem.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Therim Pel was once called the Jewel of the Eldren; it was the largest and grandest of the cities that the lost race of ancients left to the men who claimed their lands long after their disappearance.\n\nTherim Pel sat at the headwaters of the Angevine River, where they poured in a white torrent from the mountains; it sat beneath their craggy majesty and was surrounded by rich fields for two days' ride by fast horse in any other direction. In the autumn, those fields would be swaying with stalks of amber-a bounty fit for the seat of an empire, which Therim Pel was.\n\nAll the cities of the south knelt before the Therin Throne. The engineers of the empire built tens of thousands of miles of roads to weave those cities together. The empire's generals manned them with patrols to put bandits down, and maintained garrisons at smaller towns and villages to ensure that commerce and letters could flow, without interruption, from one end of the empire to the other-from the Iron Sea to the Sea of Brass.\n\nKarthain and Lashain, Nessek and Talisham, Espara and Ashmere, Iridain and Camorr, Balinel and Issara-all those mighty city-states were ruled by dukes who took their crowns of silver from the hands of the emperor himself. The few dukes who remain in present times may wield great power, but they are self-declared; the high lineages dating back to the time of the Therin Throne have long been severed.\n\nThe Therin Throne entered into decline when the Vadrans appeared from the north. A raiding sea-people, they took the Throne protectorates on the northern half of the continent; they named the seven great rivers that flowed to the northern sea their Seven Holy Marrows, and they discouraged the Throne's efforts to reclaim its territory by smashing every army it sent north. Weakened, the Therin Throne could not sustain the effort, and so it was diminished. Diminished, but not broken." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It took the Bondsmagi of Karthain to do that.\n\nThe Bondsmagi were newly formed in the city of Karthain; they were beginning to expand the reach of their unique and deadly guild to other cities, and they showed little sign of catering to the angry demands of the emperor in Therim Pel. He insisted that they halt their activities, and they are said to have replied with a short letter listing the prices for which His August Majesty could hire their services. The emperor sent in his own royal circle of sorcerers; they were slain without exception. The emperor then raised his legions and marched on Karthain, vowing to slay every sorcerer who claimed the title of Bondsmage.\n\nThe emperor's declaration of war was a test of resolve for the new guild's rules. For anyone who dared to harm a Bondsmage, they had publicly vowed reciprocity that would be awful to behold.\n\nDuring his march to Karthain, the emperor's soldiers managed to kill about a dozen.\n\nFour hundred Bondsmagi met the emperor's legions just to the east of Karthain; the sorcerers condescended to offer a pitched battle. In less than two hours, one-third of the emperor's forces were slaughtered. Strange mists boiled up from the ground to mislead their maneuvers; illusions and phantasms tormented them. Flights of arrows halted in the air and fell to the ground, or were hurled back upon the archers who had loosed them. Comrade turned upon comrade, maddened and misled by sorcery that could chain a man's actions as though he were a marionette. The emperor himself was hacked to pieces by his personal guard. It is said that no piece larger than a finger remained to be burned on a pyre afterward. The empire was soundly defeated-its surviving generals routed, their remaining soldiers scampering like message-runners for Therim Pel." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But the affair did not end there. The Bondsmagi in conclave decided to enforce their rules, and to enforce them in such a fashion that the entire world would shudder at the thought of crossing them, for as long as men might have memories.\n\nThey worked their retribution on the city of Therim Pel.\n\nThe firestorm they conjured was unnatural. Four hundred magi, working in concert, kindled something at the heart of the empire that historians still fear to describe. It is said that the flames were as white as the hearts of the stars themselves; that the column of black smoke rose so high it could be seen from the deep Iron Sea, far east of Camorr, and as far north as Vintila, capital of the young Kingdom of the Seven Marrows.\n\nEven this hideous conjuring could not touch Elderglass; those structures in the city built by Eldren arts survived unscathed. But everything else the fire touched, it ate; wood and stone and metal, mortar and paper and living things. All the city's buildings and all the city's culture and all the city's population who could not flee before the magi began their work were burnt into a desert of gray ashes-a desert that settled afoot deep across a black scar baked into the ground.\n\nThose ashes swirled in the hot wind at the foot of the one human-crafted object the magi willingly preserved: the throne of the empire. That chair remains thereto this day, in the haunted city of Therim Pel, surrounded by afield of ashes that time and rains have turned into a sort of black concrete. Nothing grows in Therim Pel anymore; no sensible manor woman will set foot within that black monument to the resolve of the Bondsmagi of Karthain.\n\nIt was they who broke the Therin Throne with that unearthly fire; they who cast the city-states of the south into hundreds of years of warring and feuding while the Kingdom of the Seven Marrows grew powerful in the north." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It is that image that comes to mind when most men think to cross a Bondsmage-the image of an empty chair standing alone in a dry sea of desolation." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "THE FALCONER MOVED his fingers, and Locke Lamora fell to his knees, gripped by an all-too-familiar pain that burned within his bones. He toppled onto the floor of the hovel, beside Jean.\n\n\"What a pleasure,\" said the sorcerer, \"to see that you survived our little arrangement at the Echo Hole. I am impressed. Even despite your reputation, I had imagined we were too clever for you. Only this afternoon I thought it was Jean Tannen alone that I sought; but this is something finer by far.\"\n\n\"You,\" spat Locke, \"area twisted fucking animal.\"\n\n\"No,\" said the Bondsmage, \"I obey the orders of my paying client. And my orders are to make sure the murderer of my client's sisters takes his time in dying.\" The Falconer cracked his knuckles. \"You I regard as a windfall.\"\n\nLocke screamed and reached out toward the Bondsmage, willing himself forward through the pain, but the Falconer muttered under his breath, and the racking, stabbing sensations seemed to multiply tenfold. Locke flopped onto his back and tried to breathe, but the muscles behind and beneath his lungs were as solid as stones.\n\nWhen the Bondsmage released him from this torment, he slumped down, gasping. The room spun.\n\n\"It's very strange,\" said the Falconer, \"how the evidence of our victories can become the instruments of our downfall. Jean Tannen, for example-you must be a fantastic fighter to have taken my client's sisters, though I see you suffered in doing so. And now they've struck back at you from the shadelands. A great many divinations are possible when one of my kind can get his hands on the physical residue of another man-fingernail parings, for example. Locks of hair. Blood on the edge of a knife.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Jean groaned, unable to speak from pain.\n\n\"Oh, yes,\" said the Falconer. \"I was certainly surprised to see who that blood led me to. In your shoes, I'd have been in the first caravan to the other side of the continent. You might even have been left in peace.\"\n\n\"Gentlemen Bastards,\" hissed Locke, \"do not abandon one another, and we do not run when we owe vengeance.\"\n\n\"That's right,\" said the Bondsmage. \"And that's why they also die at my feet in filthy fucking hovels like this one.\"\n\nVestris fluttered from his shoulder and settled into another corner of the room, staring balefully down at Locke, twitching her head from side to side in excitement. The Falconer reached inside his coat and drew out a sheet of parchment, a quill, and a small bottle of ink. He uncapped the bottle and set it down atop the sleeping pallet; he wet the quill and smiled down at Locke.\n\n\"Jean Tannen,\" said the Falconer. \"What a simple name; easy to write. Easier even than it was to stitch.\"\n\nHis quill flew across the parchment; he wrote in great looping whorls, and his smile grew with every letter. When he was finished, his silver thread snaked out around the fingers of his left hand, and he moved them with an almost hypnotic rhythm. A pale silver glow arose from the page in his hands, outlining the curves of his face.\n\n\"Jean Tannen,\" said the Falconer. \"Arise, Jean Tannen. I have a task for you.\"\n\nShuddering, Jean rose first to his knees and then to his feet. He stood before the Falconer; Locke, for his part, still found it impossible to move." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Jean Tannen,\" said the Bondsmage, \"take up your hatchets. Nothing would please you more at this moment than to take up your hatchets.\"\n\nJean reached beneath the sleeping pallet and took out the Wicked Sisters; he slipped one into either hand, and the corners of his mouth drew upward.\n\n\"You like to use those, don't you, Jean?\" The Falconer shifted the silver threads in his left hand. \"You like to feel them biting into flesh... You like to seethe blood spatter. Oh, yes... don't worry. I have a task you can set them to.\"\n\nWith the sheet of paper in his right hand, the Falconer gestured down at Locke.\n\n\"Kill Locke Lamora,\" he said.\n\nJean shuddered; he took a step toward Locke, then hesitated. He frowned and closed his eyes.\n\n\"I name your given name, Jean Tannen,\" said the Bondsmage. \"I name your given name, the truthful name, the name of the spirit. I name your name. Kill Locke Lamora. Take up your hatchets and kill Locke Lamora.\"\n\nJean took another halting step toward Locke; his hatchets rose slowly. He seemed to be clenching his jaws. A tear rolled out of his right eye; he took a deep breath, and then another step. He sobbed, and raised the Wicked Sisters above his shoulders.\n\n\"No,\" said the Falconer. \"Oh, no. Wait. Step back.\"\n\nJean obliged, backing off a full yard from Locke, who sent up silent prayers of relief, mingled with dread for whatever might come next.\n\n\"Jean's rather soft-hearted,\" said the Falconer, \"but you're the real weakling, aren't you? You're the one who begged me to do anything to you as long as I left your friends alone; you're the one who went into the barrel with his lips closed when he could have betrayed his friends, and perhaps lived. I know how to make this right. Jean Tannen, drop your hatchets.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Wicked Sisters hit the ground with a heavy thud, bounced, and landed just beside Locke's eyes." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A moment later, the Bondsmage spoke in his sorcerous tongue and shifted the threads in his left hand; Jean screamed and fell to the ground, shaking feebly.\n\n\"It would be much better, I think,\" said the Falconer, \"if you were to kill Jean, Master Lamora.\"\n\nVestris screeched down at Locke; the sound had the strange mocking undertones of laughter.\n\nOh, fuck, Locke thought. Oh, gods.\n\n\"Of course,\" said the Falconer, \"we already know your last name is a sham. But I don't need a full name; even a fragment of a true name will be quite enough. You'll see, Locke. I promise that you'll see.\" His silver threads disappeared; he dipped his quill once again and wrote briefly on the parchment.\n\n\"Yes,\" he said. \"Yes. You may move again.\" And as he spoke, it was so; the paralysis lifted, and Locke twitched his fingers experimentally. The Bondsmage wiggled his silver thread once more; Locke felt a strange something seem to form in the air around him, a sort of pressure, and the parchment glowed again.\n\n\"Now,\" said the Falconer. \"I name your name, Locke. I name your given name, the truthful name, the name of the spirit. I name your name, Locke. Arise. Arise and take up Jean Tannen's hatchets. Arise and kill Jean Tannen.\"\n\nLocke pushed himself up to his knees and rested on his hands fora moment.\n\n\"Kill Jean Tannen.\"\n\nShaking, he reached out for one of Jean's hatchets, slid it toward himself, and crawled forward with it clutched in his right hand. His breathing was ragged; Jean Tannen lay at the Bondsmage's heels, just three or four feet away, on his face in the plaster dust of the hovel." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Advance the story as the writer's narrative assistant.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 1" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Shaking, she wrapped herself tightly in the shawl and crept, chilled to the bone, back to the bed, burrowing for some remnants of warmth. Morgan. Morgaine. Had she given her child that name because it was truly one she had borne? Was it only a bizarre dream sent by the Merlin, to convince her that once she had known Uther Pendragon in some former life?\n\nBut that had been no dream-dreams were confused, bizarre, a world where all is foolishness and illusion. She knew that somehow she had wandered into the Land of Truth, where the soul goes when the body is elsewhere, and somehow she had brought back not a dream but a memory.\n\nOne thing at least was made clear. If she and Uther had known each other, loved each other, in the past, it explained why she had this tremendous sense of familiarity with him, why he did not seem a stranger, why even his boorish-or boyish-manners seemed not offensive, but simply part of the person which he was and had always been. She remembered the tenderness with which she had dried his tears with her veil, knowing now that she had thought: yes, he was always so. Impulsive, boyish, rushing toward what he wanted, never weighing costs.\n\nHad they truly brought the secrets of a vanished wisdom to this land, generations ago when the lost lands were newly vanished under the western ocean, and together incurred the penalties for that oathbreaking? Penalties? And then, not knowing why, she remembered that rebirth itself-human life-was supposed to be the penalty, life in a human body rather than endless peace. She curved her lips in a smile, thinking, Is it penalty, or reward, to live in this body? For thinking of the sudden wakening of her body in the arms of the man who was, or would be, or once had been, Uther Pendragon, she knew as she had never known before that, whatever the priests said, life, whether birth or rebirth, in this body, was reward enough." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She burrowed her body down in the bed, and lay, not sleepy now, looking into the darkness, smiling. So Viviane and the Merlin had known, perhaps, what it was fated for her to know: that she was bound to Uther by a bond which made her tie to Gorlois merely superficial and momentary. She would do as they willed; it was part of her destiny. She and the man who now was Uther had bound themselves, many lives ago, to the fate of this land, where they had come when the Old Temple was buried. Now, when once again the Mysteries were imperilled, this time by hordes of barbarians and wild men from the North, they returned together. It was given to her to bring to birth one of the great heroes who, so it was said, came back to life when they were needed, the king who was, and is, and will come again to save his people... even the Christians had aversion of the story, saying that when their Jesus was born, his mother had had warnings and prophecies that she would bear a king. She smiled in the darkness, thinking of the fate that was reuniting her with the man she had loved so many centuries before. Gorlois? What had Gorlois to do with her fate, except to make her ready? Otherwise, she might have been too young to understand what was to happen to her.\n\nIn this life I am not a priestess. Yet I know that I am still the obedient child of my fate; as all men and women must be.\n\nAnd for the priests and the priestesses there is no tie of marriage. They give themselves as they must, in the will of the Gods, to bring forth those who are pivotal to the fates of mankind.\n\nShe thought of the great constellation called the Wheel, in the north. The peasants called it the Wain, or the Great Bear, shambling ever round and round the northernmost of the stars; but Igraine knew it symbolized, in its coming and going, the endless Wheel of Birth and Death and Rebirth. And the Giant who strode across the sky, the sword hanging from his belt... fora moment it seemed to Igraine that she saw the hero who was to come, with a great sword in his hand, the sword of the conqueror. The priests of the Holy Isle would make certain that he had a sword, a sword out of legends." }, { "from": "human", "value": "At her side Gorlois stirred and reached for her, and she went dutifully into his arms." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her revulsion had quite gone in tenderness and pity, nor did she have any fear that he would get her with his unwanted child. That was not her fate. Poor, doomed man, he had no part in that mystery. He was one of the once-born; or, if he was not, he did not remember, and she was glad he had the comfort of his simple faith.\n\nLater, when they rose, she heard herself singing; and Gorlois watched her curiously.\n\n\"It seems that you are well again,\" he said, and she smiled. \"Why, yes,\" she said, \"I have never been better.\"\n\n\"Then the Merlin's medicine did you good,\" Gorlois said, and she smiled, and did not answer.\n\nIt seemed that nothing else was talked of in the city for several days-that Lot of Orkney had withdrawn and gone away to the North. It was feared that this would delay the final choice; but only three days later, Gorlois returned to the lodging, where Igraine was putting the final stitches into anew gown from the woven cloth she had found in the market, to say that the Council of Ambrosius' advisers had done as they had known, all along, that Ambrosius would have wished, and chosen Uther Pendragon to rule overall Britain as High King among the kings of the land.\n\n\"But what of the North?\" she asked.\n\n\"Somehow he will bring Lotto terms, or else he will fight him,\" Gorlois said. \"I do not like Uther, but he is the best fighter we have. I am not afraid of Lot, and I am sure Uther does not fear him either.\"\n\nIgraine felt the old stirring of the Sight, knowing that Lot had much to do in the years to come... but she kept her peace; Gorlois had made it obvious that he did not like to hear her speak of men's affairs, and she would rather not quarrel with a doomed man in the little time remaining to him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I see your new gown is finished. You shall wear it, if you will, when Uther is made High King in the church and crowned, and afterward he will hold court for all his men and all their ladies, before he goes to the West country for their kingmaking,\" he said. \"He bears the name Pendragon, Greatest Dragon, from the banner he bears, and they have some superstitious ritual about dragons and kingship-\"\n\n\"The dragon is the same as the serpent,\" Igraine volunteered. \"A symbol of wisdom; a Druidical symbol.\"\n\nGorlois frowned, displeased, and said that he had no patience with such symbols in a Christian country. \"The anointing by a bishop should be enough for them.\"\n\n\"But all people are not fitted for the higher Mysteries,\" Igraine said. She had learned this as a child on the Holy Isle, and since her dream of Atlantis it seemed to her that all the early teaching about the Mysteries, which she thought she had forgotten, had assumed anew meaning and depth in her mind. \"Wise men know that symbols are not needed, but the common folk of the countryside, they need their dragons flying for the kingship, just as they need the Beltane fires, and the Great Marriage when a king is wedded to the land-\"\n\n\"Those things are forbidden to a Christian,\" Gorlois said austerely. \"The Apostle has said it, there is only one name under Heaven by which we maybe saved, and all those signs and symbols are wicked. I would not be surprised to hear it of Other, that unchaste man, that he entangles himself in these lewd rites of pagandom, pandering to the folly of ignorant men. One day I hope to see a High King in Britain who will keep to Christian rites alone!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Igraine smiled and said, \"I do not think either of us will live to see that day, my husband." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Even the Apostle in your holy books wrote that there was milk for babes and meat for strongmen, and the common folk, the once-born, have need for their Holy Wells and their spring garlands and dancing rites. It would be a sad day for Britain if no Yule fires burned and no garlands fell into the Holy Wells.\"\n\n\"Even the devils can quote the holy words amiss,\" Gorlois said, but not angrily. \"Perhaps this is what the Apostle meant, when he said that women should keep silence in the churches, for they are prone to fall into those errors. When you are older and wiser, Igraine, you will know better. Meanwhile, you can make yourself as fine as you please for the services in the church and for the merrymaking afterward.\"\n\nIgraine put on her new gown and brushed her hair until it shone like fine copper; and when she looked at herself in the silver mirror-Gorlois had sent to the market for it, after all, and had it brought to her-she wondered with a sudden fit of despondency whether Uther would even notice her. She was beautiful, yes, but there were other women, beautiful as she was, and younger, not married women who had borne children-why should he want her, old and used as she was?\n\nAll through the long ceremonies in the church, she watched intently as Uther was sworn and anointed by their bishop. For once the psalms were not doleful hymns of God's wrath and punishment, but joyful songs, praising and offering thanks, and the bells sounded joyous instead of wrathful. Afterward in the house which had been Ambrosius\" headquarters, there were delicacies and wine and much ceremony, as one by one, Ambrosius' war chiefs swore allegiance to Uther." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Long before it was over, Igraine grew weary." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But at last it was done, and while the chiefs and their ladies congregated around the wine and the food, she moved a little away, watching the bright gathering. And there, at last, as she had been half aware that he would, Uther found her.\n\n\"My lady of Cornwall.\"\n\nShe made a deep curtsey. \"My lord Pendragon, my king.\"\n\nHe said roughly, \"There is no need for such formalities between us now, lady,\" and caught her shoulders, so much as he had done in her dream that she stared, half expecting that she would see on his arms the golden serpent torques.\n\nBut he only said, \"You are not now wearing the moonstone. It was so strange, that stone. When first I saw you wearing it, it was like to a dream I had.... I had fever, last spring, and the Merlin attended me, and I had a strange dream, and I know now it was in that dream I first beheld you, long before ever I laid eyes on your face. I must have stared like a country lout, Lady Igraine, for I found myself struggling again and again to remember my dream, and what part you played in that dream, and the moonstone at your throat.\"\n\nShe said, \"I have been told that one of the virtues of the jewel, moonstone, is to awaken the true memories of the soul. I too have dreamed....\"\n\nHe laid alight hand on her arm. \"I cannot remember. Why is it that I seem to see you wearing something gold about your wrists, Igraine? Have you a golden bracelet in the form of-of a dragon, perhaps?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"Not now,\" she said, paralyzed at the awareness that he had, somehow and without her full knowledge, shared that strange memory and dream." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You will bethinking me a boor and beyond all courtesy, my lady of Cornwall. May I offer you some wine?\"\n\nSilently she shook her head. She knew that if she tried to take a cup in her hand she would shake and spill it allover herself.\n\n\"I do not know what is happening tome,\" Uther said violently. \"All that has happened in these days-the death of my father and king, the strife of all these kings, their choosing me for High King-it seems unreal, and you, Igraine, are the most unreal of all! Have you been to the West, where the great ring of stones stands on the plain? They say that in olden time it was a Druid temple, but the Merlin says not, it was built long before the Druids came to these lands. Have you been there?\"\n\n\"Not in this life, my lord.\"\n\n\"I wish I could show it to you, for I dreamed once I was therewith you-oh, don't think me a madman, Igraine, chattering always of dreams and prophecy,\" he said with that sudden, boyish smile. \"Let us talk very sedately of ordinary things. I am a poor Northern chief who has suddenly Wakened to find himself High King of Britain, and perhaps I am a little mad with the strain!\"\n\n\"I shall be sedate and ordinary.\" Igraine agreed with a smile. \"And if you were a wedded man I would ask you how your wife did and if your oldest son had trouble with-oh, what is the most ordinary thing I could ask you-whether he was done teething before the hot weather, or if he had a skin rash from his swaddling clothes!\"\n\nHe chuckled. \"You will bethinking I am old not to be a married man,\" he said. \"I've had women enough, God knows. I should not say that, perhaps, to the wife of my most Christian of chiefs; Father Jerome would say I had had all too many women for the health of my soul! But I never saw one I cared for, when we rose from bedding, and I always feared that if I wedded some woman before we bedded, I would tire of her in such manner. It seemed tome always that there should be some tie stronger than that between man and women, though the Christians seem to think that is enough-what is it they say, it is better to marry than to burn? Well, I did not burn, for I slaked the fire, and when I had spent it, the fire went out, and yet I feel that there could be a burning which would not spend itself so quickly, and it should be such a one I could marry.\" Abruptly he asked her, \"Do you love Gorlois?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Viviane had asked her this, and she had said that it did not matter. She had not known what she was saying. Now she said quietly, \"No. I was given to him when I was too young to care what man I married.\"\n\nUther turned away and paced angrily, saying at last, \"And I can see you are no wench to tumble, and why in the name of all the Gods I must be bewitched by a woman who is wedded to one of my most loyal partisans-\"\n\nSo the Merlin had worked his meddlesome magic on Uther too. But now Igraine did not resent it. It was their destiny, and what would come, must come. But she could not believe it washer destiny to betray Gorlois crudely, here like this. It was like apart of her dream of the great plain, so that she could almost seethe shadow of the great ring of stones, when he laid his hand on her shoulder. But she was confused, No, that was another world, and another life. It seemed that her whole soul and body cried out within her for the reality of that kiss in their dream. She put her hands over her face and wept. He stared at her, dismayed and helpless, backing away a little.\n\n\"Igraine,\" he whispered. \"What can we do?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" she said, sobbing, \"I don't know.\" Her certainty had become a miserable confusion. Had the dream been sent only to bewitch her, by magic, into a betrayal of Gorlois and her own honor and sworn word?\n\nA hand fell on her shoulder, heavy and disapproving. Gorlois looked angry and suspicious.\n\n\"What is this unseemly matter, my lady? What have you been saying, my king, that my wife looks so wretched? I know you a man of lewd manners and little piety, but even so, sire, common decency should restrain you from approaching a vassal's wife at your crowning!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Igraine raised her face to him in anger. \"Gorlois, I have not deserved this of you! What have I ever done that you should cast such an accusation at me in a public place?\" For indeed heads were turning now, hearing angry words spoken.\n\n\"Then why, lady, do you weep, if he has said nothing unseemly to you?\" His hand, gripping her wrist, felt as if he would crush it.\n\n\"As for that,\" Uther said, \"you must ask the lady why she weeps, for I do not know. But loose her arm, or I will make you. Husband or no, no one shall handle any woman roughly in my house.\"\n\nGorlois let goof Igraine's arm. She could seethe marks of his fingers already reddening into dark bruises; she rubbed the marks, tears streaming down her face. Before the many faces surrounding them she was appalled, as if she had been taken and shamed; she covered her face with her veil and wept harder than ever. Gorlois pushed her before him. She did not hear what he said to Uther; only when they were outside in the street did she stare at him, amazed.\n\nHe said in a rage, \"I will not accuse you before all men, Igraine, but God is my witness I should be justified in doing so. Uther looked at you just now as a man looks at a woman he has known as no Christian man has aright to know any other man's wife!\"\n\nIgraine, feeling her heart pounding in her breast, knew it was true, and felt confusion and despair. In spite of the fact that she had seen Uther only four times, and dreamed twice of him, she knew that they had looked at each other and spoken to each other as if they had been lovers for many years, knowing all and more than all about each other, body and mind and heart. She recalled her dream, where it seemed that they had been bound for many years by a tie which, if it was not marriage, might as well have been so. Lovers, partners, priest to priestess-whatever it was called. How could she tell Gorlois that she had known Uther only in a dream, but that she had begun to think of him as the man she had loved so long ago that Igraine herself was not yet born, was a shadow; that the essence within her was one and the same with that woman who had loved that strange man who bore the serpents on his arms in gold.... How could she say this to Gorlois, who knew, and wished to know, nothing of the Mysteries?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He pushed her ahead of him into their lodging. He was ready, she knew, to strike her if she had spoken; but her silence frustrated him even more. He shouted, \"Have you nothing to say tome, my wife?\" and gripped her already bruised arm so strongly that she cried out anew with the pain of his hand. \"Did you think I did not see how you looked at your paramour?\"\n\nShe wrenched her arm away from him, feeling as if he would actually tear it out of the socket. \"If you saw that, then you saw me turn away from him when he would have had no more than a kiss! And did you not hear him say tome that you were his loyal supporter and he would not take the wife of his friend-\"\n\n\"If I was ever his friend, I am so no more!\" Gorlois said, his face dark with fury. \"Do you truly think I shall support a man who would take my wife from me, in a public place, shaming me before all his assembled chiefs?\"\n\n\"He did not!\" Igraine cried out, weeping. \"I have never so much as touched his lips!\" It seemed all the more vicious since she had indeed desired Uther but had kept herself scrupulously away from him. Why, if I am to be accused of guilt when I am innocent of any wrongdoing even as he would call it so, why should I not have done what Uther wished?\n\n\"I saw how you looked at him! And you have kept apart from my bed since first you set eyes on Uther, you faithless whore!\"\n\n\"How do you dare!\" she gasped, raging, and caught up the silver mirror he had given her, flinging it at his head. \"Take back that word, or I swear I will throw myself into the river before ever you touch me again! You lie, and you know you lie!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gorlois ducked his head and the mirror crashed against the wall. Igraine snatched off her amber necklace-another new gift from her husband-and flung it after the mirror; with hasty fingers tore off the fine new gown and hurled it at his head. \"How dare you call me such names, who have loaded me with gifts as if I were one of your camp followers and fancy women? If you think me a whore, where are the gifts I have received from my lovers? All the gifts I have are given me by my husband, the whoreson foul-mouthed cullion who tries to buy my goodwill for his own lusts because the priests have made him half a eunuch! From now on I will wear the weaving of my own fingers, not your disgusting gifts, you knave whose mouth and mind areas foul as your filthy kisses!\"\n\n\"Be silent, you evil-minded scold!\" Gorlois shouted, striking her so hard that she fell to the ground. \"Now getup and cover yourself decently as a Christian woman should, not tearing off your clothes so that I will go mad with looking at you like that! Is that how you seduced my king into your arms?\"\n\nShe scrambled to her feet, kicking the ruins of the gown as far as she could, and rushed at him, striking his face again and again. He grabbed her, trying to hold her motionless; crushed her into his arms. Igraine was strong, but Gorlois was a big man and a warrior, and after a moment her struggles subsided, knowing they were useless.\n\nHe whispered, pushing her toward the bed, \"I will teach you better than to look at any man that way except your rightful husband!\"\n\nShe flung her head back in contempt and said, \"Do you think I would ever look at you again except with the loathing I would feel fora snake? Oh, yes, you can take me to bed and force me to do your will, your Christian piety permits you to ravish your own wife! I do not care what you say tome, Gorlois, because I know in my own heart that I am innocent! Until this very moment I felt guilty that some witchcraft or spell had made me love Uther. Now I wish I had done what he begged of me, if only because you were as ready to believe lies of my guilt as the truth about my innocence, and while I was anxious for my own honor and yours, you were prepared to believe I would fling mine to the winds!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The contempt in her voice made Gorlois drop his arms and stare at her. He said, his voice husky, \"Do you mean that, Igraine? Are you truly innocent of wrongdoing?\"\n\n\"Do you think I would stoop to lie about it? To you?\"\n\n\"Igraine, Igraine,\" he said humbly, \"I know well I am too old for you, that you were given tome without love and without your will, but I thought, perhaps, in these days, you have come to think a little better of me, and when I saw you weeping before Uther-\" His voice choked. \"I could not bear it, that you should look like that at that lustful and vicious man, and look on me only with duty and resignation-forgive me, forgive me, I do beg it of you-if indeed I wronged you-\"\n\n\"You wronged me,\" she said, her voice stinging with ice, \"and you do well to beg my pardon, which you shall not have until the hells rise and the Earth sinks beneath the western ocean! Better you should go and make your peace with Uther-do you truly think you can stand against the wrath of the High King of Britain? Or will you end by buying his favor as you sought to buy mine?\"\n\n\"Be still!\" Gorlois said angrily, his face flushing; he had humbled himself before her, and she knew he would never forgive her for that either. \"Cover yourself!\"\n\nIgraine realized that she was still bare to the waist. She went to the bed where her old gown was lying and pulled it leisurely over her head, doing up the laces. He gathered up her amber necklace from the floor, and the silver mirror, and held them out to her, but she turned her eyes away and ignored them and after awhile he laid them on the bed, where she let them lie without looking at them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He stared at her fora moment, then pushed the door and went out.\n\nLeft alone, Igraine began to put her things into her saddlebags. She did not know what she meant to do; perhaps she would go and find the Merlin, take him into her confidence. It was he who had begun this train of events that had put her and Gorlois at such odds. At least she knew she would no longer dwell with complacency under Gorlois's roof. A pain struck at her heart: they had been wedded under Roman law and by that law Gorlois had absolute power over their daughter, Morgaine. Somehow she must contrive to dissemble until she could get Morgaine away to a place of safety! She could perhaps send her to Viviane, at the Holy Isle, for fostering.\n\nShe left the jewels Gorlois had given her lying on the bed, packing with her only the gowns she had woven with her own hands at Tintagel, and for jewels, only the moonstone Viviane had given her. Later she realized it was this moment or two of delay which had cost her escape, for while she was laying out the gifts he had given heron the bed, separating her own things from them, Gorlois came back into the room. He cast one swift glance at her packed saddlebags, and nodded curtly. \"Good,\" he said, \"you are making ready to ride. We will leave before sunset.\"\n\n\"What do you mean, Gorlois?\"\n\n\"I mean that I have cast back my oath in Uther's face and told him what I should have told him at once. Henceforth we are enemies. I go now to organize the defense of the West against the Saxons and the Irish, should they come there; I have told him that if he seeks to bring his armies into my country I will hang him like the felon he is from any handy tree.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "She stared at him; at last she said, \"You are mad, my husband." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The men of Cornwall cannot hold the West country alone if the Saxons should come therein force. Ambrosius knew that; the Merlin knows that; God help me, I know it, and I am no more than a home-keeping woman! Will you strike down in one moment of madness everything that Ambrosius lived for and spent his last years struggling for because of some insane quarrel with Uther over your own mad jealousy?\"\n\n\"You are quick to care for Uther!\"\n\n\"I should be quick to pity the Saxon chief himself, if he lost his hardiest supporters in a quarrel with no foundation! In God's name, Gorlois, for our very lives and the lives of the people who look to you for help if the Saxons come, I beg of you to amend this quarrel with Uther, and not to breakup the alliance this way! Lot has already gone; if you go, there will be none but treaty troops and a few minor kings to follow him in the defense of Britain!\" She shook her head in despair. \"Would that I had thrown myself from the cliffs at Tintagel before ever I came to Londinium! I will take any oath you like, that I have never so much as touched Uther Pendragon's lips! Will you break the alliance for which Ambrosius died, because of a woman?\"\n\nGorlois glowered at her and said, \"Even had Uther never set eyes on you, my lady, I should not in conscience follow a man of lewdness, so bad a Christian; I trust Lot not at all, but I now know that I should trust Uther less. I should have listened from the first to the voice of my conscience, and I would never have agreed to support him at all. Put my clothing into the other saddlebag. I have sent for the horses and our men-at-arms.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She looked at his implacable face and knew that if she protested he would beat her again. Silently, with seething anger, she obeyed. Now she was trapped, she could not flee, not even to the Holy Isle under her sister's protection-not while Gorlois held her daughter at Tintagel.\n\nShe was still laying folded shirts and tunics into the saddlebags when she heard alarm bells begin to ring. Gorlois said curtly, \"Stay here!\" and hurried out of the house.\n\nAngry, Igraine hurried after him, only to find herself faced by a burly man-at-arms, one of Gorlois's men she had not seen before. He thrust his pike sideways across the house door, preventing her from stepping across the sill. His Cornish dialect was so thick that she could hardly understand his words, but she made out that the Duke had commanded his lady was to keep safely within the house; he was thereto see that she stayed so.\n\nIt would be beneath her dignity to struggle with the man, and she had a shrewd suspicion that if she did he would simply bundle her like a sack of meal across the threshold. In the end, she sighed and went back inside the house, finishing her packing. From the street she heard cries and clamor, the sounds of men running, bells ringing in the nearby church, although it was not the hour for services. Once she heard a clashing of swords and wondered if the Saxons were in the city and among them-it would indeed be a good time for an attack, when Ambrosius' chiefs were all at odds! Well, that would solve one of her problems, but what would become of Morgaine, alone at Tintagel?\n\nThe day wore on, and near nightfall Igraine began to be afraid. Were the Saxons at the gates of the city, had Uther and Gorlois quarreled again, was one or the other of them dead? When at last Gorlois thrust open the door of the room, she was almost glad to see him. His face was drawn and distant, his jaw clenched as if in great grief, but his words to Igraine were brief and uncompromising." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"We ride at nightfall." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Can you keep your saddle, or shall I have one of my men carry you on a pillion? We shall have no time to delay fora lady's pace.\"\n\nShe wanted to batter at him with a thousand questions, but she would not give him the satisfaction of seeming to care. \"While you can ride, my husband, I can keep to my saddle.\"\n\n\"See that you do, then, for we shall not halt long enough for you to change your mind. Wear your warmest cloak; it will be cold riding at night, and the sea fog is coming in.\"\n\nIgraine tied up her hair into a knot and wrapped her thick cloak over the tunic and breeches she always put on for riding. Gorlois lifted her to the horse's back. The street was thickly clustered with the dark forms of men-at-arms with their long spears. Gorlois spoke in low tones to one of the captains, then strode back and mounted; there were a dozen horsemen and soldiers riding behind Gorlois and Igraine at their head. He took the reins of Igraine's horse himself and said with an angry jerk of his head, \"Come.\"\n\nShe was not sure of the way; she rode in silence where Gorlois led, through the falling dusk. Somewhere against the sky there was fire, but Igraine did not know whether it was a soldier's watch fire, or a house somewhere inflames, or simply the cooking fires of the travelling peddlers encamped in the marketplace. She had never learned her way through the thickly clustered houses and streets to the river, but as the thick fog began to blow in wisps across their path, she supposed they were coming to the riverbank, and after a time she heard the creaking of the rope windlass which controlled the heavy planking rafts of the ferry." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One of Gorlois's men, dismounting, led her horse aboard; Gorlois rode at her side. A few of the men swam their horses. She realized it must be very late-at this time of year the light lingered long, and it was almost unheard of to ride at night. Then she heard a cry from the shore.\n\n\"They are going! They are going! First Lot, and then my lord of Cornwall, and we are unprotected!\"\n\n\"All the soldiers are leaving the town! What will we do when the Saxons land on the south coast?\"\n\n\"Cowards,\" someone yelled from the shore as the ferry, with a great creaking, began to move away. \"Cowards, running away with the countryside aflame!\"\n\nA stone came whizzing out of the dark. It struck one of the men-at-arms on his leather breastplate. He swore, but Gorlois spoke to him in a sharp undertone and he grumbled into silence. There were a few other insults hurled from the shore and a few more stones, but they were quickly out of range. As her eyes grew accustomed to the dark Igraine could see Gorlois, his face pale and set like a marble statue. He did not speak to her all that night, although they rode till dawn, and even when the dawn came up red and dripping behind them, turning the world to crimson fog, they stopped only a little while for horses and men to rest. Gorlois laid a cloak for Igraine to lie down on fora little while, and brought her some hard bread and cheese and a cup of wine, soldier's rations, but still he did not speak to her. She was weary and bruised from riding, and confused; she knew that Gorlois had quarreled with Uther and withdrawn his men, but nothing more. Would Uther have let him go without protest? Well, Lot had been let go." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After a short rest, Gorlois brought the horses again and would have lifted her into the saddle, but here Igraine rebelled.\n\n\"I will ride no further until you tell me where we ride, and why!\" She kept her voice down, not wanting to shame Gorlois before his men, but she faced him fearlessly. \"Why do we steal from Londinium like thieves in the night? Now you will tell me what is happening, unless you wish to have me tied to my horse's back and carry me screaming aloud all the way to Cornwall!\"\n\n\"Do you think I would not do that if I must?\" Gorlois said. \"Don't seek to cross me, you for whom I have forsworn a lifetime of honor and oaths kept, and set the memory of my king at nothing!\"\n\n\"How can you dare to blame me for that,\" Igraine flung at him. \"You did it not for me but for your own insane jealousy! I am innocent of whatever sins your evil mind believes I have committed-\"\n\n\"Silence, woman! Uther, too, swore that you were innocent of wrong. But you area woman and you put some enchantment on him, I suppose-I went to Uther, hoping to mend this quarrel, and do you know what proffer that evil and lustful man made tome? He demanded of me that I should divorce you and give you to him!\"\n\nIgraine stared at him with wide-open eyes. \"If you think so evil of me, that I am adulteress, witch, all these ill things, why then did you not rejoice at the prospect of getting quit of me so simply?\"\n\nAnd inside her was anew rage, that even Uther should think of her as a woman to be given away without her own consent, that he went to Gorlois and besought him to give the unwanted woman, even as Gorlois himself had asked her of the Lady of Avalon! Was she a horse to be sold at the spring fair, then? One part of her quivered with a secret pleasure-Uther wanted her, he wanted her enough that he would quarrel with Gorlois and alienate his allies by this quarrel over a woman. And with another part of her being she was enraged. Why had he not besought her, of herself, that she should put away Gorlois and come to him of her freewill?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But Gorlois was attending seriously to her question. \"You swore tome that you were not an adulteress. And no Christian man may put his wife away save for the sole cause of adultery.\"\n\nBetween impatience and sudden compunction, Igraine held her peace. She could not be grateful to him, but at least he had listened to what she said. Yet it occurred to her that it was mostly his pride; even if he believed she had betrayed him, he would not want his soldiers to think that his young wife preferred another man to himself. Perhaps he would even rather condone the sin of adultery than let them think he could not keep the loyalty of a young woman.\n\nShe said, \"Gorlois-\" but he silenced her with a gesture. \"Enough. I have no patience to change many words with you. Once in Tintagel, there you may forget this folly at leisure. As for the Pendragon, he will have quite enough to do at war on the Saxon Shores. If you were glamoured by him, well, you are young and a woman, with small knowledge of the world or of men. I will reproach you no more; within a year or two, you will have a son'to take your mind from this man who has struck your fancy.\"\n\nIn silence, Igraine allowed Gorlois to lift her to her horse. He must believe whatever it was that he believed, there was nothing she could say to penetrate that iron surface. Yet her mind went back stubbornly to what Viviane and the Merlin had said: that her destiny and Uther's were bound. After her dream she believed it, she knew why they had comeback together. She had begun to accept that this was the will of the Gods. Yet here she was, riding away from Londinium with Gorlois, the alliance in ruins, and Gorlois evidently determined that Uther never set eyes on her again. Certainly with a war on the Saxon Shores Uther would have no leisure to journey to the world's end at Tintagel, and even if he could, there was noway he could make his way into that castle, which could be defended by only a few men until the sky fell. Gorlois could leave her there, and there she would stay till she was an old woman, shut up bleakly behind walls and the great chasms and crags of rock. Igraine put her cloak over her face and wept." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She would never see Uther again. All the plans of the Merlin were in wreck and ruin; she was bound to an old man she hated-she knew, now, that she hated him, which she had never before allowed herself to know-and the man she loved could think of nothing better to do than to try and bully the proud Gorlois into giving her up of his own freewill! Later, she thought she must have wept all through the long journey, all the days and nights which they travelled across the moors and down through the valleys of Cornwall.\n\nOn the second night they camped and pitched tents fora proper rest. She welcomed hot food and a chance to sleep within a tent, even though she knew she could no longer avoid Gorlois's bed. She could not cry out and struggle with him, not when they slept in a tent ringed about by his soldiers. She had been his wife four years; no one alive would believe a tale of ravishment. She would not have the strength to fight him, nor would she want to lose her dignity in a sordid struggle. She set her teeth and resolved to let him do as he would-although she wished she had some of the charms which were said to protect the maidens of the Goddess. When they lay with men at the Beltane fires, they conceived only when they willed it so. It seemed too bitter, that he should beget the son he wanted when she was humbled this way, beaten down utterly.\n\nThe Merlin had said it: You will bear Gorlois no son. But she did not trust to the Merlin's prophecy, not now when she saw the wreck of all his plans. Cruel, scheming old man! He used her as men had always used their daughters since the Romans came, pawns who should marry this manor that as their fathers desired, chattels like a horse or a milk goat! She had found some peace with Gorlois, and that peace had been broken, cruelly and for nothing! She wept silently as she made ready for bed, resigned, despairing, not even confident enough of her own power to drive him away with angry words-she could see from his manner that he was ready to prove himself in possession of her, to drive away memories of any other man by forcing her to take heed of him in the only way he could enforce himself upon her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His familiar hands on her, his face over her in the dark, were like those of a stranger. And yet, when he drew her to him, he was unable; limp and powerless, and although he pulled and clasped her, trying desperately to rouse himself, it came to nothing, and at last he let her go with a furious whispered curse.\n\n\"Have you put some spell upon my manhood, you accursed bitch?\"\n\n\"I have not,\" she said, low, with contempt, \"although indeed, if I knew such spells I would have been glad to do so, my strong and gallant husband. Do you expect me to weep because you cannot take me by force? Try it, and I shall lie here and laugh into your face!\"\n\nFora moment he raised himself, clenching his fist.\n\n\"Yes,\" she said, \"strike me. It will not be the first time. And perhaps it will make you feel enough like a man that your spear will rise into action!\"\n\nWith a furious oath, he turned his back on her and lay down again, but Igraine lay awake, shaking, knowing that she had had her revenge. And indeed, all the way to Cornwall, no matter how he tried, Gorlois found himself powerless to touch her, until at last Igraine began to wonder if indeed, without being aware of it, her very righteous wrath had indeed cast some enchantment on his manhood. Even then she knew, with the sure intuition of the priestess-trained, that he would never be potent with her again.\n\nCornwall seemed more than ever at the very end of the world.\n\nIn those first days, after Gorlois had left her thereunder guard-coldly silent now, and without a word for her, good or bad-Igraine had found herself wondering whether Tintagel existed at all in the real world anymore, or whether, like Avalon, it existed only in the mist kingdom, the fairy kingdom, bearing no relationship to the world she had visited in her one brief venture outside." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Even during this brief absence it seemed that Morgaine had grown from babe to small girl, a serious, quiet, small girl who questioned incessantly everything she saw. Morgause too had grown, her body rounding, her childish face taking on definition with its high cheekbones and long-lashed eyes under dark brows; she was, Igraine thought, beautiful, not aware that Morgause was the twin of herself at fourteen. Morgause was ecstatic with the gifts and fairings Igraine had brought her; she frisked around Igraine like a playful puppy, and around Gorlois too. She chattered to him excitedly, practiced sidelong looks, and tried to sit in his lap as if she were a child Morgaine's age. Igraine saw that Gorlois did not laugh and push her off like a puppy, but stroked the long red hair, smiling, and pinched her cheek.\n\n\"You are too big for such foolishness, Morgause,\" she said sharply. \"Say your thanks to my lord of Cornwall and take your fairings to your room. And put away the silks, for you will not wear such things till you are grown. Don't think to play the lady here just yet!\"\n\nMorgause gathered up the pretty things and went weeping to her room. Igraine saw that Gorlois followed the girl with his eyes. She thought, appalled, Morgause is only fourteen, then remembered in dismay that she herself had been but a year older when she was given to Gorlois as his bride.\n\nLater she saw them together in the hall, Morgause laying her head confidingly on Gorlois's shoulder, and saw the look in her husband's eyes. Hard anger struck her, not so much for the girl as for Gorlois. She saw that they moved uneasily apart as she came into the hall, and when Gorlois had gone away, she looked at Morgause, her eyes unsparing, until Morgause giggled uneasily and stared at the floor." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Why are you looking at me like that, Igraine? Are you afraid that Gorlois likes me better than you?\"\n\n\"Gorlois was too old for me; is he not that much older than you? With you, he thinks he would have me back as he first knew me, too young to say him nay or to look at another man. I am no longer a pliant girl but a woman with a mind of her own, and perhaps he thinks you would be easier to deal with.\"\n\n\"Perhaps, then,\" Morgause said, insolent now, \"you should look to keeping your own husband content, instead of complaining that some other woman can do for him what you cannot.\"\n\nIgraine raised her hand to slap the girl, then by sheer force of will, kept herself still. She said, summoning all herself-discipline, \"Do you think it matters tome whom Gorlois takes to his bed? I am certain he has had his share of trollops, but I would rather my sister was not among them. I have no wish for his embraces, and if I hated you, I would give you to him willingly. But you are too young. As I was too young. And Gorlois is a Christian man; if you let him lie with you and he gets you with child, he will have no choice but to marry you off in haste to whatever man-at-arms will have used goods-these Romans are not like our own people, Morgause. Gorlois maybe smitten with you, but he will not put me away and take you to wife, believe me. Among our own people, maidenhood is of no great consequence-a woman of proven fertility, swelling with a healthy child, is a most desirable wife. But it is not so with these Christians, I tell you; they will treat you as one shamed, and the man he persuades to marry you will make you suffer all your lifelong that he did not have the planting of the child you bear. Is that what you want, Morgause, who could marry a king if you chose? Will you throw yourself away, sister, to spite me?\" Morgause went pale. \"I had no idea-\" she whispered. \"Oh, no, I do not want to be shamed-Igraine, forgive me.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Igraine kissed her and gave her the silver mirror and the amber necklace, and Morgause stared at her.\n\n\"But these are Gorlois's gifts-\"\n\n\"I have sworn I will never again wear his gifts,\" she said. \"They are yours, for that king the Merlin saw in your future, sister. But you must keep yourself chaste till he comes for you.\"\n\n\"Have no fear,\" Morgause said and smiled again. Igraine was glad that this reminder had caught Morgause's ambition; Morgause was cool and calculating, she would never be swayed by emotion or impulse. Igraine wished, watching her, that she too had been born without the capacity to love.\n\nI wish I could be content with Gorlois, or that I could seek coldly-as Morgause would surely do-to rid myself of Gorlois and be Uther's queen.\n\nGorlois stayed at Tintagel only four days, and she was glad to see him go. He left a dozen men-at-arms at Tintagel, and when he left, he called her to him.\n\n\"You and the child will be safe here, and well guarded,\" he said curtly. \"I go to gather the men of Cornwall against Irish raiders or Northmen-or against Uther, should he seek to come and take what is not his own, woman or castle.\"\n\n\"I think Uther will have too much to do in his own country for that,\" Igraine said, tightening her mouth against despair.\n\n\"God grant it,\" Gorlois said, \"for we have enough enemies without him, too. But I could wish him to come, so that I might show him Cornwallis not his, as he thinks all else is his own for the taking!\"\n\nTo that Igraine said nothing. Gorlois rode away with his men, and Igraine was left to set her house in order, to recover her old closeness with her child, to try to mend her broken friendship with her sister Morgause." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But the thought of Uther was always with her, busy herself as she might with domestic tasks. It was not even the real Uther who haunted her, the man she had seen in orchard and court and in the church, impulsive and a little boyish, even somewhat boorish and clumsy. That Uther, the Pen-dragon, the High King, frightened her a little-she thought she might even be a little afraid of him, as she had once been of Gorlois. When she thought of Uther the man, thought of kisses and embraces and what more he might desire of her, at times she felt that melting sweetness she had known in her dream, but at other times she was seized with a panic terror, like the ravished child who had risen the morning after her wedding, cold with fear and dread. The thought of the act of marriage seemed terrifying and even grotesque to her, as it had seemed then.\n\nWhat came back to her, again and again, in the silence of the night when she lay with Morgaine sleeping at her side, or when she sat on the terrace by the sea and guided her daughter's hands in her first clumsy attempts to spin, was the other Uther, the Uther she had known at the ring of stones outside time and ordinary place; the priest of Atlantis, with whom she had shared the Mysteries. That Uther she knew she would love as her own life, that she could never fear him or dread him, and whatever happened between them, it would be a sweetness, a joy greater than she had ever known. Quite simply, when she came near him, she knew that she had discovered some lost part of herself; with him she was whole. Whatever might happen between them as ordinary man and woman, something lay beyond it which would never die or lessen in its intensity. They shared a destiny, and somehow they must fulfill it together... and often when she had come so far in her thoughts she would stop and stare at herself in disbelief. Was she mad, with her fancies of shared destiny and the other half of her soul? Surely the facts were simpler and less pretty. She, a married woman, a decent matron and the mother of a child, had simply grown besotted with a younger and handsomer man than her lawful husband, and had fallen into a daydream of him and thereby quarreled with the good and honorable man to whom she had been given. And she would sit and spin, gritting her teeth with frantic guilt, and wonder if her whole life was to be spent in atonement fora sin only half-consciously committed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The spring wore away into summer, and the Beltane fires were long past." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Heat spread its haze over the land, and the sea lay blue and so clear that it seemed, at times, that faraway in the clouds Igraine could seethe forgotten cities of Lyonnesse and Atlantis. The days had begun to shorten, and there was sometimes frost in the nights again, when Igraine heard the first far rumblings of war-the men-at-arms brought news from the market town that there had been Irish raiders on the coast, that they had burnt a village and a church and carried off one or two women, and there were armies, not those commanded by Gorlois, marching west into the Summer Country and north to Wales.\n\n\"What armies?\" Igraine asked the man, and he said, \"I don't know, lady, for I didn't see them; those who did said they bore eagles like the Roman legions of the old days, which is impossible. But he said, also, that they bore a red dragon on their banner.\"\n\nUther! thought Igraine, with a pang, Uther is near, and he will not even know where I am! Only then did she ask for news of Gorlois, and the man told her that her husband, too, was in the Summer Country, and that the armies were making some sort of council there.\n\nShe gazed long into her old bronze mirror that night, wishing that it were the scrying glass of a priestess, that could see what was happening faraway!\n\nShe longed to take counsel with Viviane, or with the Merlin. They had wrought all this trouble-had they abandoned her now? Why did they not come to see how their plans lay all in wreck? Had they found some other woman of the correct lineage, to throw her into Uther's path, to bear this king who would one day heal all the land and all the warring peoples?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But no word or message came from Avalon, and Igraine was not allowed by the men-at-arms even to ride to the market town; Gorlois, so the men said respectfully, had forbidden it because of the state of the country. Once, looking from the high window, she saw a rider approaching, and on the inner causeway stop to parley with the headman of the guards. The rider looked angry, and seemed to Igraine to lookup at the walls in frustration, but finally he turned his back and rode away, and Igraine wondered if this had been a messenger sent to her whom the guardsman would not allow access.\n\nShe was, then, a prisoner in her husband's castle. He might say, or even believe, that he had placed her therefor her own protection, against the turmoil in the land, but the truth was otherwise: his jealousy had led him to imprison her here. She tested her theory a few days later, calling the head of the guards to her.\n\n\"I wish to send a message to my sister, asking her to come and visit,\" she said. \"Will you send a man with a message to Avalon?\"\n\nIt seemed to her that the man avoided her eyes. He said, \"Well, now, lady, I can't do that. My lord of Cornwall said very explicitly that all of us were to stay right here and protect Tintagel in case of a siege.\"\n\n\"Can't you hire a rider in the village then, to make the journey, if I paid the man well?\"\n\n\"My lord wouldn't like that, lady. I'm sorry.\"\n\n\"I see,\" she said, and sent him away. She had not yet come to the point of desperation at which she would try to bribe one of the men. But the more she pondered this, the angrier she grew. How dared Gorlois imprison her here, she who was sister to the Lady of Avalon? She was his wife, not his slave or servant! At last she resolved on a desperate step." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She had not been trained in the Sight; she had used it a little, spontaneously, as a girl, but except for her brief vision of Viviane, she had never used it at all as a grown woman, and since her vision of Gorlois as death-doomed she had closed herself firmly to further visions. That one, the Gods knew, had come to nothing, for Gorlois was still very much alive. Yet somehow, she supposed, she might now manage to see what was to happen. It was a dangerous step-she had been reared on tales of what befell those\" who meddled in arts to which they were not trained, and at first she sought to compromise. As the first leaves began to turn yellow, she called the chief of the men-at-arms to her again.\n\n\"I cannot stay here forever, shut like a rat in a trap,\" she said. \"I must go to the market fair. We must buy dyes and there is need of anew milk goat, and of needles and pins, and many things for the winter which comes.\"\n\n\"Lady, I have no orders to let you go abroad,\" he said, and turned his eyes from her. \"I take my orders from my lord, and I have heard nothing from him.\"\n\n\"Then I will stay here and send one of my women,\" she said. \"Ettarr or Isotta shall go, and the lady Morgause with her-will that suffice?\"\n\nHe looked relieved, as she had hit upon a solution to save him from disobeying his lord; for indeed it was necessary that someone from the household should visit a fair before the winter, and he knew it as well as she did. It was outrageous to keep the lady of the house from what was, after all, one of her proper duties." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Morgause was wildly happy when Igraine told her she was to go." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Small wonder, Igraine thought. None of us has been abroad all this summer. The very shepherds are freer than we, for they at least take the sheep to graze on the mainland! She watched, frankly envious, as Morgause put on the crimson cloak Gorlois had given her, and, with the chaperonage of two men-at-arms as well as both Ettarr and Isotta and two of the kitchen women to carry packages and goods, set forth on her pony. She watched from the causeway, holding Morgaine by the hand, until they were out of sight, and felt that she could not endure to reenter the castle which had become a prison to her.\n\n\"Mother,\" Morgaine asked at her side, \"why can we not go to the market with Auntie?\"\n\n\"Because your father does not wish us to go, my poppet.\"\n\n\"Why does not he want us to go? Does he think we will be naughty?\"\n\nIgraine laughed and said, \"Indeed, I think that is what he believes, daughter.\"\n\nMorgaine was silent-a small, quiet, self-possessed little creature, her dark hair now long enough to plait into a little braid halfway down her shoulder blades, but so fine and straight that it slipped out into loose elf locks around her shoulders. Her eyes were dark and serious, and her eyebrows straight and level, so heavy already that they were the most definite feature of her face. A little fairy woman, Igraine thought, not human at all; a pixie. She was no larger than the shepherd girl's babe who was not yet quite two, though Morgaine was nearing four, and spoke as clearly and thoughtfully\" as a great girl of eight or nine. Igraine caught up the child in her arms and hugged her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My little changeling!\"\n\nMorgaine suffered the caress, and even kissed her mother in return, which surprised Igraine, for Morgaine was not a demonstrative child, but soon she began to stir fretfully-she was not the kind of child who wished to beheld for long; she would do everything for herself. She had even begun to dress herself and buckle her own shoes on her feet. Igraine set her down and Morgaine walked sedately at her side back into the castle.\n\nIgraine sat down at her loom, telling Morgaine to take her spindle and sit beside her. The little girl obeyed, and Igraine, setting her shuttle in motion, stopped fora moment to watch her. She was neat-handed and precise; her thread was clumsy, but she twirled the spindle deftly as if it were a toy, twisting it between her small fingers. If her hands were bigger, she would already spin as well as Morgause. After a time Morgaine said, \"I do not remember my father, Mother. Where is he?\"\n\n\"He is away with his soldiers in the Summer Country, daughter. '\n\n\"When will he come home?\"\n\n\"I do not know, Morgaine. Do you want him to come home?\"\n\nShe considered a moment. \"No,\" she said, \"because when he was here-I remember it just a little-I had to go sleep in Auntie's room and it was dark there and I was afraid at first. Of course I was very little then,\" she added solemnly, and Igraine concealed a smile. After a minute\"; she went on, \" And I do not want him to come home because he made you cry.\n\nWell, Viviane had said it; women did not give babes enough credit for understanding what was going on around them." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Why do you not have another baby, Mother? Other women have a. baby as soon as the older one is weaned, and I am already four. I heard Isotta say you should have given me a baby brother. I think I would like to have a little brother to play with, or even a little sister.\"\n\nIgraine actually started to say, \"Because your father Gorlois-\" and then stopped herself. No matter how adult Morgaine might sound, she only four years old, and Igraine could not confide such things to h\" Because the Mother Goddess did not see fit to send me a son, child. '\n\nFather Columba came out on the terrace. He said austerely, \"You should not talk to the child of Goddesses and superstition. Gorlois wishes her to be reared as a good Christian maiden. Morgaine, your mother did not have a son because your father was angry with her, and God withheld a son to punish her for her sinful will.\"\n\nNot for the first time, Igraine felt that she would like to throw her shuttle at this black crow of ill omen. Had Gorlois confessed to this man, was he aware of all that had passed between them? She had often wondered that, in the moons that had passed, but she had never had any excuse to ask and knew he would not tell her if she did. Suddenly Morgaine stood up and made a face at the priest, \"Go away, old man,\" she said clearly. \"I don't like you. You have made my mother cry. My mother knows more than you do, and if she says that it is the Goddess who did not send her a child, I will believe what she says, and not what you say, because my mother does not tell lies!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Father Columba said angrily to Igraine, \"Now you see what comes of your willfulness, my lady? That child should be beaten. Give her tome and I will punish her for her disrespect!\"\n\nAnd at this all Igraine's rage and rebelliousness exploded. Father Columba had advanced toward Morgaine, who stood without flinching. Igraine stepped between them. \"If you lay a hand on my daughter, priest,\" she said, \"I will kill you where you stand. My husband brought you here, and I cannot send you away, but on the day you come into my presence again, I will spit on you. Get out of my sight!\"\n\nHe stood his ground. \"My lord Gorlois entrusted me with the spiritual well-being of this entire household, my lady, and I am not given to pride, so I will forgive what you have said.\"\n\n\"I care as little for your forgiveness as for that of the billy goat! Get out of my sight or I will call my serving-women and have you putout. Unless you want to be carried out of here, old man, get from here and do not presume to come into my presence until I send for you-and that will be when the sunrises over western Ireland! Go!\"\n\nThe priest stared at her blazing eyes, at her uplifted hand, and scuttled out of the room.\n\nNow that she had committed an act of open rebellion, she was paralyzed at her own temerity. But at least it had freed her from the priest, and freed Morgaine, too. She would not have her daughter brought up to feel shame at her own womanhood.\n\nMorgause came back late that night from the fair, having chosen all her purchases carefully-Igraine knew she could not have done better herself-with a lump of loaf sugar for Morgaine to suck, which she had bought with her own pocket money, and full of tales from the marketplace. The sisters sat until midnight in Igraine's room, talking long after Morgaine had fallen asleep, sucking on her sugar candy, her small face sticky and her hands still clutching it. Igraine took it away and wrapped it for her, and came back to ask further news of Morgause." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This is ignoble, that I must hear news from the marketplace about the doings of my own husband!\n\n\"There is a great gathering in the Summer Country,\" Morgause said. \"They say that the Merlin has made peace between Lot and Uther. They say, too, that Ban of Less Britain has allied with them, and is sending them horses brought from Spain-\" She stumbled a little over the name. \"Where is that, Igraine? Is it in Rome?\"\n\n\"No, but it is far in the south, nearer than we to Rome by many, many leagues,\" Igraine told her.\n\n\"There was a battle with the Saxons, and Uther was therewith the dragon banner,\" Morgause told her. \"I heard a harper telling it like a ballad, how the Duke of Cornwall had imprisoned his lady in Tintagel-\" In the darkness Igraine could see that the girl's eyes were wide, her lips parted. \"Igraine, tell me true, was Uther your lover?\"\n\n\"He was not,\" Igraine said, \"but Gorlois believed he was, and that is why he quarreled with Uther. He did not believe me when I told him the truth.\" Her throat choked tight with tears. \"I wish now that it had been the truth.\"\n\n\"They say King Lot is handsomer than Uther,\" Morgause said, \"and that he is seeking a wife, and it is whispered in gossip that he would challenge Uther to be High King, if he thought he could do so safely. Is he handsomer than Uther? Is Uther as godlike as they say, Igraine?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"I don't know, Morgause.\"\n\n\"Why, they say he was your lover-\"\n\n\"I do not care what they say,\" Igraine interrupted her, \"but as for that, I suppose as the world reckons such things, both of them are fine-looking men, Lot dark, and Uther blond like a Northman. But it was not for his fair face that I thought Uther the better man.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What was it then?\" asked Morgause, bright and inquisitive, and Igraine sighed, knowing the young girl would not understand. But the hunger to share at least a little of what she felt, and could never say to anyone, drove her to say, \"Why-I hardly know. Only-it was as if I had known him from the beginning of the world, as if he could never be strange tome, whatever he did or whatever befell between us.\"\n\n\"But if he never so much as kissed you...\"\n\n\"It does not matter,\" Igraine said wearily, and then at last, weeping, said what she had known fora longtime now, and had been unwilling to admit. \"Even should I never again look upon his face in this life, I am bound to him and I shall be so bound until I die. And I cannot believe the Goddess would have wrought this upheaval in my life, if I was meant never again to see him.\"\n\nBy the dim light she could see that Morgause was looking at her with awe and a measure of envy, as if in the younger girl's eyes Igraine had suddenly become the heroine of some old romantic tale. She wanted to say to her, no, it is not like that, it is not romantic at all, it is simply what has happened, but she knew there was noway to say that, for Morgause had not the experience to tell romance from this sort of ultimate reality, rock-hard at the bottom of imagination or fantasy. Let her think it romance, then, if it pleases her, Igraine thought, and realized that this kind of reality would never come to Morgause: it was a different world she lived in.\n\nNow she had taken the step of alienating the priest who was Gorlois's man, and another step in confessing to Morgause that she loved Uther. Viviane had said something of worlds drawing apart one from the other, and it seemed to Igraine as if she had begun to dwell on some world apart from the ordinary one in which Gorlois perhaps had aright to expect that she be his faithful chattel, servant, slave-his wife. Only Morgaine now bound her to that world. She looked at the sticky-handed, sleeping child, her dark hair scattered wildly around her, and at her wide-eyed younger sister, and wondered if, at the call of this thing that had happened to her, she would abandon even these last hostages which held her to the real world." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Collaborating with the writer, advance the narrative.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 1" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What was it then?\" asked Morgause, bright and inquisitive, and Igraine sighed, knowing the young girl would not understand. But the hunger to share at least a little of what she felt, and could never say to anyone, drove her to say, \"Why-I hardly know. Only-it was as if I had known him from the beginning of the world, as if he could never be strange tome, whatever he did or whatever befell between us.\"\n\n\"But if he never so much as kissed you...\"\n\n\"It does not matter,\" Igraine said wearily, and then at last, weeping, said what she had known fora longtime now, and had been unwilling to admit. \"Even should I never again look upon his face in this life, I am bound to him and I shall be so bound until I die. And I cannot believe the Goddess would have wrought this upheaval in my life, if I was meant never again to see him.\"\n\nBy the dim light she could see that Morgause was looking at her with awe and a measure of envy, as if in the younger girl's eyes Igraine had suddenly become the heroine of some old romantic tale. She wanted to say to her, no, it is not like that, it is not romantic at all, it is simply what has happened, but she knew there was noway to say that, for Morgause had not the experience to tell romance from this sort of ultimate reality, rock-hard at the bottom of imagination or fantasy. Let her think it romance, then, if it pleases her, Igraine thought, and realized that this kind of reality would never come to Morgause: it was a different world she lived in.\n\nNow she had taken the step of alienating the priest who was Gorlois's man, and another step in confessing to Morgause that she loved Uther. Viviane had said something of worlds drawing apart one from the other, and it seemed to Igraine as if she had begun to dwell on some world apart from the ordinary one in which Gorlois perhaps had aright to expect that she be his faithful chattel, servant, slave-his wife. Only Morgaine now bound her to that world. She looked at the sticky-handed, sleeping child, her dark hair scattered wildly around her, and at her wide-eyed younger sister, and wondered if, at the call of this thing that had happened to her, she would abandon even these last hostages which held her to the real world." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The thought gave great pain, but inside herself she whispered, \"Yes. Even that.\"\n\nAND SO THE NEXT STEP, which she had feared so greatly, became simple to her.\n\nShe lay awake that night between Morgause and her child, trying to decide what she must do. Should she runaway and trust to Uther's part in the vision to find her? Almost at once she rejected that thought. Should she send Morgause, with secret instructions to flee to Avalon and bear a message that she was imprisoned? No; if it was common talk-a ballad in the marketplace-that she was imprisoned, her sister would have come to her if she thought that it would help. And ever at her heart gnawed the silent voice of doubt and despair. Her vision had been a false one... or perhaps, when she had not flung all aside for Uther, they had abandoned the plan, found another woman for Uther, and the saving of Britain, as, should the high priestess be ill for the great Celebration, they would choose another for her part.\n\nToward morning, as the sky was already paling, she fell into a dazed sleep. And there, when she had ceased to hope for it, she found guidance. Just as she woke, it was as if a voice said inside her mind, Rid yourself for this one day of the child, and the maiden, and you will know what to do.\n\nThe day dawned clear and shining, and as they broke their fast on goat's cheese and new-baked bread, Morgause looked at the shining sea and said, \"I am so weary of staying withindoors-I did not know till yesterday at the market how weary I am grown of this house!\"\n\n\"Take Morgaine, then, and go out for the day with the shepherd women,\" Igraine suggested. \"She too would like to go abroad, I imagine.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She wrapped up slices of meat and bread for them; to Morgaine it was like a festival. Igraine saw them go, hoping now for someway to evade the watchful eyes of Father Columba, for, although he followed her will and had not spoken to her, his eyes followed her everywhere. But at midmoming, as she sat weaving, he came into her presence and said, \"Lady-\"\n\nShe did not lookup at him. \"I bade you stay away from me, priest. Complain of me to Gorlois when he comes home if you will, but do not speak tome.\"\n\n\"One of Gorlois's men has been hurt in a fall from the cliffs. His comrades think he is dying, and have bidden me to come to him. You need not be afraid; you will be properly guarded.\"\n\nShe had known that-it had never occurred to her that, if she could get rid of the priest, she might somehow make her escape. In any case, where could she go? This was Gorlois's country and none of his people would shelter an escaped wife from his wrath. Simple flight had never been her intention. \"Go and the Devil take you, so that you come not into my presence,\" and turned her back.\n\n\"If you presume to curse me, woman-\"\n\n\"Why should I waste my breath with a curse? I would as willingly bid you Godspeed to your own heaven, and may your God find more pleasure in your company than I do.\"\n\nOnce he had gone, hurrying on his little donkey across the causeway, she knew why she had felt she must rid herself of the priest. In his own way he was an initiate of the Mysteries, though they were not her Mysteries, and he would be quick to know and to disapprove of what she meant to do. She went to Morgause's room and found the silver mirror. Then she went down to the kitchens to ask the serving-women to make afire in her room. They stared, for the day was not cold, but she repeated it as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and fetched herself a few other things from the kitchen: salt and a little oil, a bit of bread and a small flask of wine-these, no doubt, the women thought she wanted for her noon meal-and she took a bit of cheese too to conceal her intent, and later flung it to the seagulls." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Outside in the garden she found lavender flowers and managed to find a few wild-rose hips. Boughs of juniper, too, she cut with her own small knife, only a few symbolic branches, and a small piece of hazel. Once in her room again she drew the bolt and stripped off her garments, standing naked and shivering before the fire. She had never done this, and knew Viviane would not approve, for those who were unskilled in the arts of sorcery could cause trouble for themselves by meddling with it. But with these things, she knew, she could conjure the Sight even if she had it not.\n\nShe cast the juniper on the fire, and as the smoke rose, bound the branch of hazel to her forehead. She laid fruit and flowers before the fire, then touched salt and oil to her breast, took a bite of the bread and a sip of the wine, then, trembling, laid the silver mirror where the firelight shone on it and, from the barrel which was kept for washing the women's hair, poured clear rainwater across the silver surface of the mirror.\n\nShe whispered, \"By common things and by uncommon, by water and fire, salt and oil and wine, by fruit and flowers together, I beg you, Goddess, let me see my sister Viviane.\"\n\nSlowly, the surface of the water stirred. Igraine, in a sudden icy wind, shivered, wondering fora moment if the spell would fail, if her sorcery were blasphemy as well. The blurred face forming in the mirror was first her own, then slowly it shifted, changed, was the awesome face of the Goddess, with the rowanberries bound about her brow. And then, as it cleared and steadied, Igraine saw; but not, as she had hoped and foreseen, into a living, speaking face. She looked into a room which she knew. It had once been the chamber of her mother at Avalon, and there were women there, in the dark robes of priestesses, and at first she looked in vain for her sister, for the women were coming and going, and moving back and forth, and there was confusion in the chamber. And then she saw her sister, Viviane; she looked weary and ill and drawn, and she was walking, walking back and forth, leaning on the arm of one of the other priestesses, and Igraine knew, in horror, what she saw. For Viviane, in her pale robe of undyed wool, was heavy with child, her belly swollen, her face dragged down with suffering, and ever she walked and walked, as, Igraine remembered, the midwives had made her do when she was in labor with Morgaine...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "No, no! Oh, Mother Ceridwen, blessed Goddess, no... our mother so died, but Viviane was so sure she was past childbearing... and now she will die, she cannot bear a child at her age and live... why, when she knew she had conceived, did she not take some potion to rid her of the child? This is the wreck of all their plans, then, it is the end....\n\nI too have thrown my life into ruin with a dream... and then Igraine was ashamed of herself that she could think of her own misery when Viviane was to lie down in childbed from which it could hardly be hoped that she would ever rise again. In horror, weeping in dread, she could not even turn from the mirror, and then Viviane raised her head, looking past the head of the priestess on whose arm she leaned, and into her dulled eyes, drawn with anguish, came recognition and tenderness. Igraine could not hear her, but it was as if Viviane spoke directly to her mind.\n\nLittle girl... little sister... Grainne...\n\nIgraine wanted to cry out to her, in sorrow and grief and fear, but she could not lay her own weight of sorrows upon Viviane now. She poured all her heart into a single outcry.\n\nI hear you, my mother, my sister, my priestess, and my goddess....\n\nIgraine, I tell you, even in this hour do not lose hope, do not despair! There is a pattern to all our sufferings, I have seen it... do not despair... and fora moment, her hair rising on her forearms, Igraine actually felt on her cheek alight touch, like the lightest of kisses, and Viviane whispered, \"Little sister...\" and then Igraine saw her sister's face contorted with pain and she fellas if swooning into the arms of the priestess, and a wind ruffled the water of the mirror, and Igraine saw her own face, blurred with weeping, looking out through the water. She shivered, clutching some garment, anything to warm her, and flung the sorcerous mirror into the fire; then she threw herself down on her bed and wept." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Viviane told me not to despair. But how can I do other than despair, when she is dying?\n\nShe lay there, weeping herself into a stupor. At last, when she could not cry another tear, she rose wearily and washed her face in cold water. Viviane was dying, perhaps even dead. But her last words had been to bid Igraine not lose hope. She dressed herself and hung about her throat the moonstone Viviane had given her. And then, with a little stirring of the air before her, she saw Uther.\n\nThis time she knew it was a Sending, and not the man himself. Nothing human, certainly not Uther Pendragon, could have come into her guarded chamber without some man seeing and stopping him. He wore a heavy plaid about him, but on his arms-and this is why she knew it no dream-he wore the serpents she had seen when she dreamed of his life in Atlantis. Only they were not now golden torques, but live serpents, which raised their heads, hissing; only she did not fear them.\n\n\"My beloved,\" he said, and although it was the very tone of his voice, the room was silent in the light of the flickering fire, and through the whispered voice she heard the small crackling of the juniper twigs. \"I will come to you at Midwinter. I swear it, I will come to you, whatever may bar the way. Make ready for meat Midwinter-\"\n\nAnd then she was alone, with only the sun in the room, and the reflection of the sea outside, and in the courtyard below, the laughing voices of Morgause and her little daughter.\n\nIgraine drew along breath, calmly drank the rest of the wine. On an empty stomach, fasting, she felt it rise to her head with a sort of dizzy elation. Then she went quietly down the stairs to await the news she knew would come." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What happened first was that Gorlois came home. Still flustered with the elation of that moment of vision-and frightened, for she had never really thought that Viviane could die, and in spite of the words of hope, she could not imagine, now that Viviane could live-Igraine had expected something else; some magical news of Uther, or word that Gorlois was dead and that she was free. Gorlois himself, dust-covered and hungry and scowling, was half calculated to make Igraine think her vision no more than self-deception or a delusion of the Evil One.\n\nWell, if it is so, there is good in that too, for it would mean that my sister lives and my vision of her was a delusion born of my own fears. And so she welcomed Gorlois calmly, with food and a bath and clean dry clothes, and only pleasant words. Let him think, if he would, that she was repenting her harshness and trying to curry his favor again. It no longer mattered to her what Gorlois thought or what he did. She no longer hated him or resented the early years of misery and despair. Her sufferings had made her ready for what would come after. She served Gorlois his food and drink, saw to the housing of his men as was suitable, and forbore to question him. She brought Morgaine fora moment, washed and combed and pretty, for her curtsey to her father, then had Isotta take her away to bed.\n\nGorlois sighed, pushing away his plate. \"She grows good-looking; but she is like a fairy child, one of the folk of the hollow hills. Where came she by such blood? There is none of it among my people.\"\n\n\"But my mother was of the old blood,\" Igraine said, \"and Viviane, too. I think her father must have been one of the fairy folk.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Gorlois shivered and said, \"And you don't even know who fathered her-one thing that the Romans did well was to make an end of those folk." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I fear no armed man that I can slay, but I fear those underground folk of the hollow hills, with their enchanted circles and their food that can lead you to wander a hundred years in enchantment, and their elf bolts which come out of the dark and strike a man down, unshriven, to send him to the hells.... The Devil made them for the death of Christians, and it is the work of God to kill them, I think!\"\n\nIgraine thought of the herbs and simples which the women of the fairy folk brought even to their conquerors for healing; of the poison arrows that could bring down game which could betaken no other way; of her own mother, born of the fairy people, and of Viviane's unknown father. And Gorlois, like the Romans, would make an end of these simple people in the name of his God? \"Well,\" she said, \"that must be as God wills, I suppose.\"\n\n\"Morgaine perhaps should be brought up in a convent of holy women, so that the great evil she has inherited from your old blood will never taint her,\" Gorlois mused. \"When she is old enough, we will see to it. A holy man told me once that women bear the blood of their mothers, and so it has been since the days of Eve, that what is within women, who are filled with sin, cannot be overcome by a woman-child; but that a son will bear his father's blood even as Christ was made in the image of God his father. So if we have a son, Igraine, we need not fear that he will show the blood of the old evil folk of the hills.\"\n\nA surge of anger rippled through Igraine, but she had pledged herself not to anger him. \"That too must be as your God wills.\" For she knew, if he had forgotten, that he would never touch her again as a man touches a woman. It did not matter now what he said or did. \"Tell me what has brought you home so unexpectedly, my husband.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Uther, of course,\" Gorlois said. \"There has been a great kingmaking on Dragon Island, which is near to Glastonbury of the priests-I know not why the priests allow it to stand there, for it is a heathen place, and there they have paid homage to their Horned One of the woods, and raised serpents, and such foolishness as it is not fitting should be done in a Christian land. King Leodegranz, who is king of the Summer Country, stands with me and has refused to make compact with Uther. Leodegranz likes Uther no more than I, but he will not make war on the Pendragon now; it is not fitting that we should war among ourselves with the Saxons gathering on the eastern shores. If the Scots come this summer, we will be caught between hammer and anvil. And now Uther has sent an ultimatum-that I must put my Cornishmen under his command, or he will come and force me to. And so I am here-we can hold Tintagel forever, if we must. But I have warned Uther that if he sets foot in Cornwall I will fight him. Leodegranz has made truce with Uther, until the Saxons are gone from this country, but I would not.\"\n\n\"In God's name, that is folly,\" Igraine said, \"for Leodegranz is right-the Saxons could not stand, if all men of Britain stood together. If you quarrel among yourselves, the Saxons can attack you one kingdom at a time, and before long all Britain will serve the Horse Gods!\"\n\nGorlois pushed his dishes aside. \"I do not expect a woman to know anything of honor, Igraine. Come to bed.\"\n\nSHE HAD THOUGHT it would not matter now what he did to her, that she was past caring; but she had not been prepared for the despairing struggle of Gorlois's pride. At the last he had beaten her again, cursing. \"You have put an enchantment on my manhood, you damned witch!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "When he had fallen into exhausted sleep, Igraine, her bruised face throbbing, lay awake, weeping quietly at his side." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So this was the reward of her meekness, just as it had been the reward of her hard words? Now indeed she was justified in hating him, and in away she was relieved to feel no guilt for her loathing. Suddenly, and with violence, she hoped Uther would kill him.\n\nHe rode away the next morning at daylight, taking all but a scant half-dozen men who were left to defend Tintagel. From the talk she heard in the hall before they went, she knew he was hoping to ambush Uther's invading army as it came down from the moors into the valley. And all this for what he called honor; he would deprive all Britain of her High King, leave the land naked like a woman to be ravished by the Saxon hordes-all because he was not man enough for his wife and feared that Uther would be.\n\nWhen he had gone, the days dragged along, rainy and silent. Then the first frosts came, with snow sweeping across the moors, and even the moors themselves were out of sight except on the clearest of days. She longed for news; she felt like a badger trapped in a winter burrow.\n\nMidwinter. Uther had said he would come to her at Midwinter-but now she began to wonder if it had been only a dream. As the autumn days lagged by, dark and cold, she began to doubt the vision, yet she knew that any attempt to repeat it, to bring herself reassurance, would not help. She had been taught in her childhood that such dependence on magical art was wrong. It was allowed to search fora glimpse of light in the darkness, and that she had done; but magic must not become a child's leading strings for walking, lest she become unable to take a single step without the need for supernatural guidance." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I have never been able to rely on myself, she thought bitterly. When she had been a child, she had looked for guidance to Viviane; but no sooner than she was grown to womanhood, she had been married to Gorlois, and he felt that she should look to him in all things, or in his absence turn to Father Columba for constant counsel.\n\nSo now, knowing she had the chance to begin to do her own thinking, she turned inward upon herself. She schooled her daughter in spinning, and began to teach her sister Morgause how to weave in colors; hoarded her supply of food, for it began to look as if the winter might be colder and longer than usual; and listened ravenously to such small scraps of news as came to her from the shepherds when they went to market, or from any travellers-but there were few of these, as the winter closed down over Tintagel.\n\nIt was past Samhain when a peddler woman came to the castle, wrapped in rags and torn shawls, weary and footsore. Her feet were bound in rags and she herself was none too clean, but Igraine brought her in and gave her a place by the fire and a ladle of rich goat's-meat stew with the stale bread which would have been her ordinary portion. When she saw that the woman was limping from a stone bruise, she asked the cook to heat some water, and found a cleaner rag to bind it. She bought two needles from the woman's pack-they were coarse enough, she had better ones, but they would do to teach Morgaine her first stitches. Then, feeling she had earned it, she asked the woman if there was any news from the North.\n\n\"Soldiers, lady,\" said the old woman, sighing, \"and Saxons gathering on the northern roads, too, and a battle... and Uther with his dragon banner, Saxons to the north of him, and, they say, the Duke of Cornwall against him to the south. Battle everywhere, even to the Holy Isle-\" Igraine demanded, \"You have come from the Holy Isle?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes, lady, I was benighted by the lakes there, and lost in the mist.... The priests gave me dry bread and bade me come to mass and be shriven, but what sins has an old womanlike me? My sins are all done and over, all forgotten and forgiven and not even regretted anymore,\" she said with her thin laughter; it seemed to Igraine that she had not much wit, and what little she had, had been scattered by hardship and solitude and long wandering. \"And indeed there is little opportunity for the old and poor to sin, except to doubt God's goodness, and if God cannot understand why we doubt that, then he is not as wise as his priests think, heh heh heh... but I had no taste to listen to mass and it was colder inside their church than without, so I wandered in the mist and the fog, and then I saw a boat, and somehow I came to the Holy Isle, and there the women of the Lady gave me food and fire, like you... heh heh heh....\"\n\n\"You saw the. Lady?\" Igraine demanded, leaning forward and looking into the woman's face. \"Oh, give me news of her, she is my sister....\"\n\n\"Aye, she said as much tome, that her sister was wife to the Duke of Cornwall, if the Duke of Cornwall still lived, which she did not know about, heh heh heh.... Oh, aye, she gave me a message for you, that is why I came here through moors and rocks where my poor feet were mangled by all the stones, heh heh heh... now what did she say tome, poor me, I can't remember, I think I lost the message in the mists around the Holy Isle, the priests, you know, they told me there was no Holy Isle, not never no more, they said, God had sunk it in the sea and if I thought I had been entertained there it was only witchcraft and the delusions of the devil....\" She paused, bent and cackling; Igraine waited." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Finally she asked, \"Tell me of the Lady of Avalon. Did you see her?\"\n\n\"Oh, aye, I saw her, not like you she is, but like a fairy woman, little and dark....\" The woman's eyes brightened and then cleared. \"Now I mind the message. She said, tell my sister Igraine that she should remember her dreams and not lose hope, and I laughed at that, heh heh heh, what good are dreams, except perhaps to you ladies in your great houses, not much good to those of us who wander the roads in the fog.... Ah, yes, this too: she was delivered of a fine son at harvesttime, and she bade me say that she was well beyond all hopes and expectations, and that she had named the boy Galahad.\"\n\nIgraine let out along sigh of relief. So Viviane had indeed, against all hope, survived childbed.\n\nThe peddler woman went on, \"She also said, heh heh heh, that he was a king's son and that it was fitting that one king's son should serve another.... Does this mean anything to you, my lady? It sounds like more dreams and moon shadows, heh heh heh....\" And she collapsed into giggling, hunched in her rags, spreading her thin hands to the warmth of the fire.\n\nBut Igraine knew the meaning of the message. One king's son should serve another. So Viviane had indeed borne a son to King Ban of Less Britain, after the rite of the Great Marriage. And if, in the prophecy she and the Merlin had made, Igraine should bear a son to Uther, High King of Britain, one should serve the other. Fora moment she felt herself trembling on the edge of the same hysterical laughter as the demented old woman's. The bride is not yet brought to bed and here we make arrangement for the fostering of the sons!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "In her heightened state, Igraine saw these children, the born and the unborn, crowding round her like shadows; was Viviane's son Galahad to be the dark twin, the bane of her unborn son by Uther?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It seemed to Igraine that she could see them in the flickering of the fire: a dark, slender lad with Viviane's eyes; a stripling with shining hairlike a Northman's... and then, flashing in the firelight, she saw the Holy Regalia of the Druids, kept now at Avalon since the Romans burned the sacred groves-dish and cup and sword and spear, gleaming and flashing to the four elements: dish of earth, cup of water, sword of fire, and the spear or wand of air... she thought, drowsily, stirring as the fire flashed and flickered, that there was apiece of the regalia for each of them. How fortunate.\n\nFiercely she blinked, drawing herself upright. The fire had died to coals; the old peddler woman slept, her feet tucked under the shawls and rags, as close as she could roll herself to the fire. The hall was all but empty. Her waiting-woman drowsed on a bench, wrapped tightly in shawl and cloak; the other serving folk had gone to bed. Had she slept here half the night by the fire and dreamed it all? She roused the sleeping waiting-woman, who grumbled off to her own bed. Leaving the old peddler woman to sleep by the fire, Igraine crept shivering to her own room, crawling in beside Morgaine and clutching the child tight, as if toward off fantasies and fear. \"\n\nWINTER SET IN, then, in earnest. There was not much wood for fuel at Tintagel, only a kind of rock which would burn, but it smoked evilly and blackened doors and ceilings. Sometimes they had to burn dried seaweed, which made the whole castle stink of dead fish like the sea at low tide. And at last rumor began to speak of Uther's armies, drawing near to Tintagel, ready to cross the great moors." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Under ordinary conditions, Uther's army could beat Gorlois's men into submission. But if they are ambushed? Uther does not know the country! He would feel himself threatened enough by the rocky and unfamiliar terrain, knowing Gorlois's armies would be massed near Tintagel. Uther would not be expecting a nearer ambush!\n\nShe could do nothing but wait. It was a woman's fate to sit at home, in castle or cot-it had been so since the Romans came. Before that, the Celtic Tribes had followed the counsel of their women, and far to the north there had been an island of women warriors who made weapons and tutored the war chiefs in the use of arms....\n\nIgraine lay awake night after night, thinking of her husband and of her lover. If, she thought, you can calla man your lover when you have never exchanged a single kiss. Uther had sworn he would come to her at Midwinter, but how could he cross the moors and breakthrough the trap of Gorlois, lying in wait for him...?\n\nIf only she were a trained sorceress or a priestess like Viviane. She had been reared on tales of the evil involved in using sorcery to enforce one's own will on the Gods. Was it, then, a good thing to allow Uther to be waylaid and his men murdered? She told herself Uther would have spies and scouts and needed no woman's help. Still she felt, disconsolate, that there must be something better for her to do than to sit and wait.\n\nA few days before Midwinter-night, a storm blew up and raged for two days, so fiercely that Igraine knew that northward, on the moors, nothing which was not burrowed like a rabbit in its hole could possibly live. Even safely within the castle, people crouched near the few fires and listened, trembling, to the raging of the wind. During the day it was so dark, with snow and sleet, that Igraine could not even see to spin. The supply of rushlights was so limited that she did not dare exhaust it further, for there was still along weight of winter to bear, so most of the time they satin the dark, and Igraine tried to remember old stories from Avalon, to keep Morgaine amused and quiet and Morgause from fretting with boredom and weariness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But when at last the child and the young girl had fallen asleep, Igraine sat wrapped in her cloak before the remnants of the small fire, too tense to lie down, knowing that if she did, she would lie wakeful, staring with aching eyes into the darkness, trying to send her thoughts over the leagues that lay between... where? To Gorlois, to find where his treachery had led? For it was treachery: he had sworn alliance with Uther as his High King, and then, because of his own jealousy and mistrust, broken his word.\n\nOr to Uther, trying to make camp on these unfamiliar moors, battered by the storm, lost, blinded?\n\nHow could she reach Uther? She gathered to herself all the memories of what small training she had had in magic when she was a girl in Avalon. Body and soul, she had been taught, were not firmly bonded; in sleep the soul left the body and went to the country of dreams, where all was illusion and folly, and sometimes, in the Druid-trained, to the country of truth, where Merlin's leading had taken her in dream that onetime.\n\n... Once, when Morgaine was being born, and the pains seemed to have gone on forever, she had briefly left her body, seen herself lying down below, a racked thing fussed over by the midwives and encouraged by her women, while she floated, free of pain and elated, somewhere above; then someone had bent over her, urgently telling her that now she must work harder, for they could seethe crown of the baby's head, and she had comeback to renewed pain and fierce effort, and she had forgotten. But if she could do it then, she could do it now. Shivering in her cloak, Igraine stared at the fire, and willed herself, abruptly, to be elsewhere...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She had done it. She seemed to stand before herself, her whole awareness sharply focused. The main change was that she could no longer hear the wild wailing of the storm outside the walls of the castle. She did not look back-she had been told that when you left your body, you must never look back, for the body will drawback the soul-but somehow she could see without eyes, all round her, and knew that her body was still sitting motionless before the dying fire. Now that she had done it she felt frightened, thinking, I should mend the fire first-but she knew if she went back into her body she would never have the courage to try this again.\n\nShe thought of Morgaine, the living bond between herself and Gorlois-even though he now rejected it, spoke scathingly of the child, still the bond was there, and she could find Gorlois if she sought him. Even as the thought formed in her mind, she was... elsewhere.\n\n... Where was she? There was the flare of a small lamp, and by its fitful light she saw her husband, surrounded by a cluster of heads: men huddled together in one of the small stone huts on the moors.\n\nGorlois was saying, \" I have fought beside Uther for many years, under Ambrosius, and if I know him at all, he will count on courage and surprise.\n\nHis people do not know our Cornish weather, and it will not occur to them that if the sunsets in raging storm, it will clear soon after midnight; so they will not move till the sunrises, but he will be out and about the moment the sun is above the horizon, hoping to fall onus while it is still early. But if we can surround his camp in those hours between the clearing of the sky and the sunrise, then as they break camp we can surprise them. They will be prepared fora march, not a battle. With just a little luck we can take them before they have their weapons well out of the sheath! Once Uther's army is cut to pieces, if he himself is not killed, he will at least turn tail and get out of Cornwall, never to return.\"By the dim lamp, Igraine saw Gorlois bare his teeth like an animal.\" And if he is killed, his armies will scatter like a beehive when someone kills their queen!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Igraine felt herself shrink back; even bodiless, a wraith, it seemed that Gorlois must see her hovering there. And indeed, he raised his head and frowned, brushing at his cheek. \"I felt a draught-it's cold inhere,\" he muttered.\n\n\"And how could it be otherwise? It's cold here as the pit, with the snow raging like this,\" one of his men growled-but even before he got the words out, Igraine was away from there, hovering in bodiless limbo, shivering, resisting the strong pull to return to Tintagel. She longed for the feel of flesh, of fire, not to go wandering between worlds, like some flittering wraith of the dead....\n\nHow could she come to Uther, to warn him? There was no bond between them; she had never exchanged with him so much as a kiss of passion, which would bind their bodies of flesh and so bind the bodiless spirit she was now. Gorlois had accused her of adultery; frantic, Igraine wished again that it were so. She was blind in the dark, bodiless, nowhere; she knew that the flicker of a thought would take her back to the room at Tintagel where her body, cramped and icy cold, slumped before the dead fire. She fought to remain in this deathly blind darkness, struggling, praying wordlessly, Let me come to Uther, while knowing that the curious laws of the world she was in now made it impossible; in this body she had no bond with Uther.\n\nBut my bond with Uther is stronger than the bond of flesh because it has endured for more lives than one, Igraine felt herself arguing with something impalpable, as if appealing to a higher judge than whatever it was that made the laws for this life. The darkness seemed to press on her now, and she felt that she could not breathe, that somewhere below her the body she had abandoned was chilled, iced over, breath failing. Something in her cried out, Return, return, Uther is a grown man, he does not need you to care for him, and she answered herself, struggling, fighting to stay out where she was, He is only a man, he is not proof against treachery!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now in the pressing darkness there was a deeper darkness, and Igraine knew she looked not on her own invisible self, but on some Other. Chilling, trembling, racked, she did not hear with her bodily ears, but felt in every nerve of her whole being the command: \"Go back. You must go back. You have no right to be here. The laws are made and fixed; you cannot remain here without penalty.\"\n\nShe heard herself say to the strange darkness, \"If I, must, I will pay the penalty that is exacted.\"\n\n\"Why do you seek to go where it is forbidden to go?\"\n\n\"I must warn him,\" she said frantically, and then, suddenly, like a moth spreading its wings over the cocoon, something in Igraine that was greater than herself opened and spread its wings and the darkness around her was gone, and the fearsome shape warning her was no more than a veiled shape, a womanlike herself, a priestess, certainly not a Goddess nor the Old Death-crone. Igraine said steadily, \"We are bound and sworn, life to life and beyond; you have no right to forbid.\" Suddenly Igraine saw that about her arms were twining the golden serpents which she had worn in her strange dream of the ring stones. She raised her arms and cried out a word in a strange language. She could never, afterward, remember more than half a syllable, only that it began with a great'Aaahhh...\" and that it was a word of power; nor did she know how the word had come to her in this extremity, to her who was not even a priestess in this life. The forbidding shape before her was gone, and Igraine saw light, light like the rising sun....\n\nNo, it was the dimmest of lantern lights, a rushlight shielded crudely with a thin slice of horn in a wooden box, no more than a glimmer in the icy shadows of a small, stone-walled hut, tumbledown and roughly repaired with bundles of reeds. But by some curious, nonexistent light-or did she, bodiless, see in the dark without eyes?-she could make out a few faces in the shadows, faces she had seen around Uther in Londinium: kings and chiefs and soldiers. Exhausted and icy cold, they crouched around the tiny lantern as if its flickering fire could somehow warm them. And Uther was among them, gaunt and exhausted, his hands bleeding with chilblains, his woolen plaid drawn up closely over his head and around his chin. This was not the proud and kingly priest-lover she had seen in her first vision, not even the clumsy and boorish young man who had come into church disturbing them all; but this weary, haggard man, damp hair straggling around his nose, reddened with the cold, somehow seemed to her more real, more handsome than ever before. Igraine, aching with pity, longing to take him in her arms and warm him, felt as if she had cried out Uther!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She knew he heard, for she saw him raise his head and look all about the cold shelter, shivering as if some colder wind stirred there; and then she saw, through the cloaks and plaids huddled around his body, the serpents twining about his arms. They were not real; they writhed like living snakes where no snake ever known to humanity would leave its burrow in such weather. But she saw them, and somehow Uther saw her, and opened his mouth to speak. Imperatively, she gestured him to silence.\n\nYou must arouse, and make ready to march, or you are doomed! The message did not form itself in her mind as words, but she knew that it moved directly from her thoughts to his. The snow will cease soon after midnight. Gorlois and his soldiers think you are pinned down where you are now, and they will fall upon you and cut you to pieces! You must be ready to meet their attack.\n\nThe words pressed upon him, soundless, with her last remnant of strength. And even as they formed, she knew that the strength of will which had brought her here across the gulf, against the laws of this world, was fading. She was not accustomed to this work, and she struggled, not wanting to leave with her warning unspoken. Would they believe him, would they be ready to meet Gorlois? Or would they stay there, motionless in the darkness after the storm, and Gorlois find them like hens huddled on their roost for the fox? But she could do no more. A deathly cold, the faintness of utter exhaustion, came over her; she felt herself fading into icy cold and darkness, as if the storm were raging through her entire body...\n\n... she was lying on the stone floor, before the cold ashes of the fire. Over her an icy wind was blowing, as if the storm which had followed her all through her vision was raging here too, inside her body.... No, it was not that. The wooden shutters of the room had blown open in the dying frenzy of the storm; they were slamming back and forth, and slashes of icy rain were blowing into the room." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She was cold. She was so cold she felt she would never move again, that she would lie there and freeze and that the cold of her body would gradually change to the sleep of death. At the moment she did not care.\n\nThere must be punishment for breaking a taboo; that is the law. I have done the forbidden thing, and I cannot emerge scatheless from it. If Uther is safe, I accept it, even if my punishment be death... and indeed, Igraine, huddling and trying to cover herself with the inadequate warmth of her cloak, felt that death would be merciful. At least she would not feel the cold....\n\nBut Morgaine, Morgaine who slept in the bed near to that window, if the window were not closed she would take a chill and perhaps have the lung fever.... Igraine would not, for her own sake, have moved. But for her child and her innocent sister she forced herself painfully to stir, to make her numbed hands and feet move. Clumsy, moving as if drunken, she stumbled to the window and fumbled with her frozen hands to draw it closed. The wind twice tore it from her fingers, and she heard herself sobbing as she wrestled with it. She could not feel, but she knew she had torn away a fingernail in the struggle with the shutter, which fought her like a living thing. At last, capturing the clasp between her hands, she drew it shut by main force, pinching a finger, cold and blue, in the frame, as she managed to fasten the wooden hasp.\n\nIt was still cold in the room, cold as ice, and she knew that without the fire, Morgaine, and Morgause too, would be ill... she wanted nothing more than to creep into bed between them, still wrapped in her cloak, warm herself between their young warm bodies, but it was hours till morning, and she had been the one who left the fire untended. Shivering, pulling her cloak close, she took afire pan from the hearth and stole down the stairs, feeling her icy feet bruised as they stumbled on the stone. In the kitchen, three serving women curled close like dogs in front of the banked fire; it was warm there, and a steaming pot hung on along hook over the fire-gruel for the morning meal, no doubt. Well, it washer own kitchen and her own gruel. Igraine dipped a cup into the pot and drank the hot, unsalted oatmeal broth, but even that could not warm her. Then she filled the fire pan with red-hot coals and covered the fire, covered the fire pan, and, holding it in a fold of her skirt, went up the stairs again. She was weak and shaking, and, despite the hot drink, shuddering so hard she feared she would fall. I must not fall, for if I fall I will never getup again, and the fire pan will set something afire...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She knelt before the cold hearth in her room, feeling the great shudders take her body and rack her with pain in her chest; but she was not cold now, she felt hot throughout her body. She fed the coals patiently with bits of tinder from the bin, then with small sticks; at last the log caught and roared up toward the ceiling. Igraine was so hot now that she flung off her cloak, stumbling toward the bed; lifted Morgaine and lay down with the child in her arms; but she did not know whether she slept or died.\n\nNO, SHE WAS NOT DEAD. Death would not bring this racking, shuddering heat and cold.... She knew that she lay along time, wrapped in steaming cloths, which grew cold and were taken away and renewed; she knew that they forced hot drinks down her throat, sometimes nauseous herbal mixtures against fever and sometimes strong spirits mixed with hot water. Days, weeks, years, centuries, passed over her while she lay and burned and shivered and suffered the horrid stuff they poured down her throat when she was too weak even to vomit it up. Once Morgause came and asked her fretfully, \"If you were ill, Igraine, why did you not wake me and send me to mend the fire?\" The dark shape who had forbidden her the road was standing in one corner of the room, and now Igraine could see her face: it was the Death-crone who guards the doors of the forbidden, and now would punish her.... Morgaine came and looked down at her, her small, somber face frightened, and Igraine wanted to reassure her daughter, but she was too weak to speak aloud. And Uther was there too, but she knew that no one else could see him, and it was not seemly to call out any man's name save that of her own wedded husband... no one would think worse of her if she should call out Gorlois's name. But even if she was dying, she did not want to call out the name of Gorlois, she wanted no more of him, in life or in death." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Had she betrayed Gorlois, with her forbidden sorcery? Or had that been only a dream, no more real than her attempt to warn Uther? Had she saved him? It seemed that she was wandering in the icy spaces again, trying blindly to force herself through the storm to give her warning, and once Father Columba came and mumbled Latin at her, and she was frantic. By what right did he come to worry her with the last rites when she could not defend herself? She had meddled in sorcery, by his standards she was an evil woman, and he would condemn her for betraying Gorlois, he would come to avenge his master. The storm was back again, raging through her, she was wandering endlessly in the storm, trying to find Morgaine who was lost in it, only Morgause was there, wearing a crown, the crown of the High Kings of all Britain. Then Morgaine was standing at the prow of the barge which passed over the Summer Sea to the shores of Avalon, Morgaine wearing the robes of a priestess, the robes Viviane wore... and then all was darkness and silence.\n\nAnd then there was sunlight in the room and Igraine stirred, only to discover that she could not sit up.\n\n\"Lie still, my lady,\" said Isotta, \"in a little while I will bring you your medicine.\"\n\nIgraine said, and was surprised to find herself whispering, \"If I have lived through your herb drinks, I will probably live through this, too. What day is this?\"\n\n\"Only ten days till Midwinter-night, my lady, and as for what happened, well, all we know is that the fire in your room must have gone out during the night, and your window blown open. The lady Morgause said she woke to see you closing it, and that you went out afterward, and came back with afire pan. But you did not speak, and mended the fire, so she did not know you were ill till morning, when you were burning with fever and did not know her, or the child.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "That was the simple explanation." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Only Igraine knew that her illness was more, was punishment for attempting sorcery far beyond her strength, so that body and spirit were drained almost past returning.\n\n\"What of-\" Igraine stopped herself; she could not inquire of Uther, what was she thinking of? \"Is there news of my lord Duke?\"\n\n\"None, my lady. We know there was a battle, but no news will come until the roads are cleared after the great storm,\" the serving-woman said. \"But now you must not talk anymore, lady, you must have some hot gruel and He down to sleep.\"\n\nPatiently Igraine drank the hot broth they brought her, and slept. News would come when the time was ripe.\n\nOn midwinter-eve, the weather broke again and turned fine. All day snow was melting and dripping, the roads ran mud, and fog came in and lay softly over the sea and courtyard, so that voices and whispers seemed to echo endlessly when anyone spoke. Fora little while in the early afternoon, the sun came out, and Igraine went into the courtyard for the first time since her illness. She felt quite recovered now, but she fretted, as they all did, for news.\n\nUther had sworn he would come at Midwinter-night. How would he manage it, with Gorlois's army lying between? All day she was silent and abstracted; she even spoke sharply to Morgaine, running about like a wild thing with the joy of being free after the confinement and cold of the winter weather.\n\nI should not be harsh with my child because my mind is with my lover! Igraine thought, and, angry with herself, called Morgaine to her and kissed her. A chill went through her as she laid her lips to the soft cheek; by her forbidden sorcery, warning her lover of Gorlois's ambush, she might have condemned the father of her child to death..." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "... but no. Gorlois had betrayed his High King; whatever she, Igraine, had done or left undone, Gorlois was marked for death, and by his treason he had deserved it. Unless, indeed, he should compound his betrayal by killing that man whom his sworn king, Ambrosius, had marked for the defense of all Britain.\n\nFather Columba came to her, insisting that she forbid her women and serving-men to light Midwinter fires. \"And you yourself should set them a good example by coming tonight to mass,\" he insisted. \"It has been long, my lady, since you received the sacraments.\"\n\n\"I have been ill,\" she said indifferently, \"and as for the sacraments, I seem to remember that you gave me the last rites when I lay sick. Although I may have dreamed it-I dreamed many things.\"\n\n\"Many of them,\" said the priest, \"such things as no Christian woman should dream. It was for my lord's sake, lady, that I gave you the sacraments when you had had no opportunity to confess yourself and receive them worthily.\"\n\n\"Aye-I know well it was not for my own sake,\" said Igraine, with a faint curl of her lip.\n\n\"I do not presume to set limits on God's mercy,\" the priest said, and Igraine knew the unspoken part of his thought: he would err if needed on the side of mercy, because Gorlois, for some reason, cared about this woman, and leave it to God to be harsh with her, as no doubt God would be....\n\nBut at last she said that she would come to mass. Little as she liked this new religion, Ambrosius had been a Christian, Christianity was the religion of the civilized people of Britain and would inevitably become more so; Uther would bow to the public observance, whatever his private views on religion. She did not really know-she had had no opportunity to know how he really felt about matters of conscience. Would she ever know? He swore he would come tome at Midwinter. But Igraine lowered her eyes and tried to pay strict attention to the mass." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Dusk had fallen, and Igraine was speaking in the kitchen house to her women, when she heard a commotion at the end of the causeway and the sound of riders, then a cry in the courtyard. She flung her hood over her shoulders and ran out, Morgause behind her. At the gateway were men in Roman cloaks such as Gorlois wore, but the guards were barring their way with the long spears they carried.\n\n\"My lord Gorlois left orders; no one but the Duke himself to go inside in his absence.\"\n\nOne of the men at the center of the group of newcomers drew himself up, immensely tall.\n\n\"I am the Merlin of Britain,\" he said, his resounding voice ringing through the dusk and fog. \"Stand back, man, will you deny passage tome?\"\n\nThe guardsman drew back in instinctive deference, but Father Columba stepped forward, with an imperative gesture of refusal.\n\n\"I will deny you. My lord the Duke of Cornwall has said particularly that you, old sorcerer, are to have no entrance here at anytime.\" The soldiers gaped, and Igraine, despite her anger-stupid, meddlesome priest!-had to admire his courage. It was not an easy thing to defy the Merlin of all Britain.\n\nFather Columba held up the big wooden cross at his belt. \"In the name of the Christ, Ibid you begone! In God's name, return to the realms of darkness whence you came!\"\n\nThe Merlin's ringing laugh raised echoes from the looming walls. \"Good brother in Christ,\" he said, \"your God and my God are one and the same. Do you really think I will vanish away at your exorcism? Or do you think I am some foul fiend from the darkness? No, not unless you call the falling of God's night the coming of darkness! I come from a land no darker than the Summer Country, and look, these men with me bear the ring of his lordship the Duke of Cornwall himself. Look.\" The torchlight flashed as one of the cloaked men thrust out a bare hand. On the first finger glinted Gorlois's ring." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Now let us in, Father, for we are not fiends, but mortal men who are cold and weary, and we have ridden fora long way." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Or must we cross ourselves and repeat a prayer to prove that to you?\"\n\nIgraine came forward, wetting her lips with nervousness. What was happening here? How did they come to bear Gorlois's ring, unless they were his messengers? Certainly one of them would have appealed to her. She saw no one she recognized, nor would Gorlois have chosen the Merlin for his messenger. Was Gorlois dead then, and was it news of his death being brought to her in this fashion? She said abruptly, her voice sounding harsh, \"Let me seethe ring. Is this truly his token or a forgery?\"\n\n\"It is truly his ring, lady Igraine,\" said a voice she knew, and Igraine, bending her eyes to seethe ring in the torchlight, saw familiar hands, big, broad and callused; and above them, what she had seen only in vision. Around Uther's hairy arms, tattooed therein blue woad, writhed two serpents, one on either wrist. She thought that her knees would give way and that she would sink down on the stones of the courtyard.\n\nHe had sworn it: I will come to you at Midwinter. And he had come, wearing Gorlois's ring!\n\n\"My lord Duke!\" said Father Columba impulsively, stepping forward, but the Merlin raised a hand to forbid the words.\n\n\"Hush! The messenger is secret,\" he said. \"Speak no word.\" And the priest fell back, thinking the cloaked man was Gorlois, puzzled but obedient.\n\nIgraine dropped a curtsey, still struggling against disbelief and dismay. She said, \"My lord, come in,\" and Uther, still concealing his face beneath the cloak, reached outwith the ringed hand and gripped her fingers. Her own felt like ice beneath them, but his hand was warm and firm and steadied her as they stepped into the hall." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She took refuge in banalities. \"Shall I fetch some wine, my lord, or send for food?\"\n\nHe murmured close to her ear, \"In God's name, Igraine, find someway we can be alone. The priest has sharp eyes, even in the dark, and I want it thought it is Gorlois, indeed, who has come here.\"\n\nShe said to Isotta, \"Bring food and some beer to the soldiers herein the hall, and to the Lord Merlin. Bring them water for washing, and all they desire. I will speak with my lord in our chambers. Have food and wine sent thereat once.\"\n\nThe servants went scurrying in all directions to do her will. The Merlin let a man take his cloak, and set his harp carefully on one of the benches. Morgause came into the doorway, peering boldly at the soldiers. Her eyes fell on Uther's tall form, and she dropped a curtsey.\n\n\"My lord Gorlois! Welcome, dear brother!\" she said, and started toward him. Uther made a slight forbidding movement and Igraine stepped quickly in front of him. She thought, frowning, This is ridiculous; even cloaked, Uther looks no more like Gorlois than do I!\n\nShe said sharply, \"My lord is weary, Morgause, and in no mood for the chatter of children. Take Morgaine to your chamber and keep her; she will sleep therewith you this night.\"\n\nFrowning, sullen, Morgause picked up Morgaine and carried her away up the stairs. Keeping well behind them, Igraine reached for Uther's hand and held it as they climbed. What manner of trickery was this, and why? Her heart was pounding until she thought she would faint away as she led him into the chamber she had shared with Gorlois and shut the door." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Inside, his arms were stretched to sweep her into his embrace; he shoved back the hood and stood there, his hair and beard wet with fog, holding out his arms, but she did not move toward him.\n\n\"My lord King! What is this, why do they think you are Gorlois?\"\n\n\"A small magic of the Merlin,\" Uther said, \"mostly a matter of a cloak and a ring, but a small glamour too; nothing that would hold if they should see me in full light, or uncloaked. I see that you were not deceived; I had not expected it. It is a seeming, not a Sending. I swore I would come to you, Igraine, at Midwinter, and I have kept my vow. Do I not even get a kiss for all my travail?\"\n\nShe came and took the cloak from him, but she evaded his touch.\n\n\"My lord King, how came you by Gorlois's ring?\"\n\nHis face hardened. \"That? I cut it from his hand in battle, but the oathbreaker turned tail and fled. Mistake me not, Igraine, I come hereby right, not as a thief in the night; the glamour is to save your reputation in the eyes of the world, no more. I would not have my promised wife branded adulteress. But I come hereby right; the life of Gorlois is forfeit tome. He held Tintagel as the sworn vassal of Ambrosius Aurelianus; that oath he renewed tome, and now that, too, is forfeit. Surely you understand this, Lady Igraine? No king can stand if his sworn men may break oath with impunity and stand underarms against their king.\"\n\nShe bowed her head in acknowledgment." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Already he has cost me the wreck of a year's work against the Saxon. When he left London with his men I could not stand against them, and I had to step aside, flee, and let them pillage the town. My people, whom I am sworn to defend.\" His face was bitter. \"Lot, I can forgive; he refused to take the oath. A score I have to settle with Lot, indeed-he will make peace with me or I will see him off his throne and hanged-but he is not oathbreaker or betrayer. Gorlois I trusted; he took oath and forswore it, and so I am left in the wreck of the work Ambrosius spent his life to accomplish, with all of it to do again. Gorlois cost me that, and I am come to have Tintagel at his hands. And I will have his life, too, and he knows it.\"\n\nHis face was like stone.\n\nIgraine swallowed hard. \"And you will have his lady, too-by conquest and by right, as you have Tintagel?\"\n\n\"Ah, Igraine,\" he said, drawing her to him with his two hands, \"I know well what choice you made, when I saw you the night of the great storm. If you had not warned me, I would have lost my best men, and, no doubt, my life as well. Thanks to you, when Gorlois came against me, I was ready for him. It was then I took the ring from his finger, and would have taken the hand, and the head too, but he escaped me.\"\n\n\"I know well you had no choice as to that, my lord King,\" Igraine said, but at that moment there was a knock on the door. One of the serving-women brought in a tray with food and a jug of wine, and muttered'My lord,\" dropping a curtsey. Mechanically Igraine freed herself from Uther's hands, took the food and wine, shut the door behind the woman. She took Uther's cloak, which was, after all, not so very different from the one Gorlois wore, and hung it on the bedpost to dry; bent and helped him off with his boots; took his sword belt from him, Like a dutiful lady and wife, a voice remarked in her mind, but she knew she had made her choice. It was even as Uther said: Tintagel belonged to the High King of Britain; so did its lady, and it was at her own will. She had given her allegiance to the King's own self." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The women had brought dried meat seethed with lentils, a loaf of new-baked bread, some soft cheese, and wine. Uther ate like a man starving, saying, \"I have been in the field these two moons past, thanks to that damnable traitor you call husband; this is the first meal I have eaten under a roof since Samhain-the good Father down there, no doubt, would remind me to say All Souls.\"\n\n\"It is only what was cooking for the servants' supper and mine, my lord King, not at all fitting-\"\n\n\"It seems tome good enough for the keeping of Christmas, after what I have been eating in the cold,\" he said, chewing noisily, tearing the bread asunder with strong fingers and cutting a chunk of cheese with his knife. \"And am Ito have no word from you save my lord King? I have dreamed so of this moment, Igraine,\" he said, laying down the cheese and staring up at her. He took hold of her round the waist and drew her close to his chair.\n\n\"Have you no word of love for me?-Can it be that you are still loyal to Gorlois?\"\n\nIgraine let him draw her against him. She said it aloud. \"I have made my choice.\"\n\n\"I have waited so long-\" he whispered, pulling her down so that she half-knelt against his knee, and tracing the lines of her face with his hand. \"I had begun to fear it would never come, and now you have no word of love or look of kindness for me-Igraine, Igraine, did I dream it, after all, that you loved me, wanted me? Should I have left you in peace?\"\n\nShe felt cold, she was shaking from head to foot. She whispered, \"No, no-or if it was a dream, then I too dreamed.\" She looked up at him, not knowing what else to say or do. She did not fear him, as she had feared Gorlois, but now that the moment was at hand she wondered, with a sudden wild panic, why she had come so far. He still held her within the curve of his arm. Now he pulled her down on his knee, and she let him draw her back, her head against his breast." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He said, encircling her narrow wrist in his big hand, \"I had not realized how slight you were. You are tall; I thought you a big woman, queenly-and after all you area little thing, I could break you with my two hands, little bones like a bird's-\" He closed the fingers around her wrist. \"And you are so young-\"\n\n\"I am not so young as all that,\" she said, laughing suddenly. \"I have been married five years and I have a child.\"\n\n\"You seem too young for that,\" Uther said. \"Was that the little one I saw downstairs?\"\n\n\"My daughter. Morgaine,\" Igraine said. And suddenly she realized that' he, too, was ill at ease, delaying. Instinctively she realized that for all his thirty-odd years, his experience of women was only with such women as could be had for the asking, and that a chaste woman of his own station was something new to him. She wished, with a sudden ache, that she knew the right thing to door say.\n\nStill temporizing, she drew her freehand along the tattooed serpents twining around his wrists. \"I had not seen these before....\"\n\n\"No,\" he said, \"they were given meat my kingmaking on Dragon Island. I would you could have been with me, my queen,\" he whispered, and took her face between his hands, tilting it back to kiss heron the lips.\n\n\"I do not want to frighten you,\" he whispered, \"but I have dreamed so long of this moment, so long...\"\n\nShaking, she let him kiss her, feeling the strangeness of it stirring something deep in her body. It had never been like this with Gorlois... and suddenly she was afraid again. With Gorlois it had always been something done to her in which she had no part, something from which she could stand aside, watching with detachment. She had always been herself, Igraine. Now, with the touch of Uther's lips, she knew she could no longer remain apart, that she would never again be the self she had known. The thought terrified her. And yet the knowledge of how much he wanted her was racing through her veins. Her hand tightened about the blue serpents at his wrists. \"I saw these in a dream... but I thought it was only a dream.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He nodded soberly. \"I dreamed of them before ever I wore them. And it was in my mind that you had something like to them, too, about your arms...\" He picked up her slender wrist again and traced along it. \"Only they were golden.\"\n\nShe felt the hairs rise on her back. Indeed it had been no dream, but a vision from the Country of Truth.\n\n\"I cannot remember all the dream,\" Uther said, staring over her shoulder. \"Only that we stood together on a great plain, and there was something like to the ring stones.... What does it mean, Igraine, that we share one another's dreams?\"\n\nShe said, feeling her voice catch in her throat as if she were about to weep, \"Perhaps it means only that we are fated for one another, my king... and my lord... and my love.\"\n\n\"My queen, and my love...\" He met her eyes suddenly, along look and along question. \"Surely the time for dreaming is over, Igraine.\" He thrust his hands into her hair, pulling out the pins, letting it tumbledown over her embroidered collar and over his face; smoothed the long locks down with trembling hands. He rose to his feet, still holding her in his arms. She had never guessed at the strength in his hands. He crossed the room in two great strides, and laid her down on the bed. Kneeling at her side, he bent and kissed her again.\n\n\"My queen,\" he murmured. \"I would you could have been crowned at my side at my kingmaking.... There were rites there such as no Christian man should know; but the Old People, who were here long before ever the Romans came to these isles, would not acknowledge me king without them. It was along road I took to come there, and some of it, I am sure, was not anywhere in this world I know.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Move the story forward as the writer's assistant.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 1" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He nodded soberly. \"I dreamed of them before ever I wore them. And it was in my mind that you had something like to them, too, about your arms...\" He picked up her slender wrist again and traced along it. \"Only they were golden.\"\n\nShe felt the hairs rise on her back. Indeed it had been no dream, but a vision from the Country of Truth.\n\n\"I cannot remember all the dream,\" Uther said, staring over her shoulder. \"Only that we stood together on a great plain, and there was something like to the ring stones.... What does it mean, Igraine, that we share one another's dreams?\"\n\nShe said, feeling her voice catch in her throat as if she were about to weep, \"Perhaps it means only that we are fated for one another, my king... and my lord... and my love.\"\n\n\"My queen, and my love...\" He met her eyes suddenly, along look and along question. \"Surely the time for dreaming is over, Igraine.\" He thrust his hands into her hair, pulling out the pins, letting it tumbledown over her embroidered collar and over his face; smoothed the long locks down with trembling hands. He rose to his feet, still holding her in his arms. She had never guessed at the strength in his hands. He crossed the room in two great strides, and laid her down on the bed. Kneeling at her side, he bent and kissed her again.\n\n\"My queen,\" he murmured. \"I would you could have been crowned at my side at my kingmaking.... There were rites there such as no Christian man should know; but the Old People, who were here long before ever the Romans came to these isles, would not acknowledge me king without them. It was along road I took to come there, and some of it, I am sure, was not anywhere in this world I know.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This reminded her of what Viviane had told her about the drifting of the worlds, apart in the mists. And thinking about Viviane brought to mind what Viviane had asked of her, and how reluctant she had been.\n\nI did not know. I was so young then, and untried, I knew nothing, I did not know how all of me could be dissolved, torn, swept away....\n\n\"Did they ask of you that you should make the Great Marriage with the land, as was done in the old days? I know that King Ban of Benwick in Less Britain was so required...\" and a sudden, violent stab of jealousy went through her, that some woman or priestess might have symbolized for him the land he was sworn to defend.\n\n\"No,\" he said. \"And I am not sure I would have done so, but it was not asked of me. The Merlin said, too, that it is he, as with every Merlin of Britain, who is sworn to die if need be, in sacrifice for his people-\" Uther broke off. \"But this can mean little to you.\"\n\n\"You have forgotten,\" she said, \"I was reared in Avalon; my mother was priestess there and my eldest sister is now the Lady of the Lake.\"\n\n\"Are you a priestess too, Igraine?\"\n\nShe shook her head, starting to say a simple no; then said, \"Not in this life.\"\n\n\"I wonder...\" Again he traced the line of the imaginary serpents, touching his own with his other hand. \"I have always known, I think, that I lived before-it seems tome that life is too great a thing to live it only once and then be snuffed out like a lamp when the wind blows. And why, when first I looked upon your face, did I feel that I had known you before the world was made? These things are mysteries, and I think it maybe that you know more of them than I. You say you are no priestess, yet you had sorcery enough to come tome, the night of the great storm, and warn me.... I think perhaps I should ask no more, lest I might hear from you what no Christian man should know. As for these\"-again, with a fingertip, he touched the serpents-\"if I wore them before this life, then perhaps that is why the old man, when he pricked them into my wrists the night of my kingmaking, told me that they were mine by right. I have heard that the Christian priests have driven all such serpents from our isles... but I do not fear the dragons, and I wear them in token that I will spread my protection over this land like the dragon's wings.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"In that case,\" she whispered, \"surely you will be the greatest of kings, my lord.\"\n\n\"Call me not so!\" he interrupted fiercely, bending over her where she lay and covering her mouth with his.\n\n\"Uther,\" she whispered, as if in a dream.\n\nHis hands moved at her throat, and he bent to kiss her bare shoulder. But when he began to pull off her gown, she flinched and shrank away. Tears flooded her eyes and she couldn't speak, but he laid his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes.\n\nHe said softly, \"Have you been so mishandled, my beloved? God strike me if you ever have anything to fear from me, now or ever. I wish with all my heart that you had never been Gorlois's wife. Had I found you first... but what is done is done. But I swear to you, my queen: you will never have anything to fear from me.\" In the flickering light of the lamp, his eyes seemed dark, although she knew they were blue. \"Igraine, I have-I have taken this for granted, because somehow I believed you must know how I feel. I know very little about your kind of woman. You are my love, my wife, my queen. I swear to you by my crown and by my manhood, you shall be my queen and I will never take another woman before you, or put you aside. Did you think I was treating you as a wanton?\" His voice was trembling, and Igraine knew that he was stricken with fear-the fear of losing her. Knowing that he could fear too, knowing that he too was vulnerable, her own fear was gone. She put her arms around his neck and said clearly, \"You are my love and my lord and my king, and I will love you as long as I live, and as long thereafter as God wills.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "And this time she let him pull away her gown, and, naked, came willingly into his arms." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Never, never had she guessed that it could be like this. Until this moment, despite five years of marriage and the birth of a child, she had been an innocent, a virgin, an unknowing girl. Now body and mind and heart blended, making her one with Uther as she had never been with Gorlois. She thought, fleetingly, that not even a child in its mother's womb could be so close....\n\nHe lay weary on her shoulder, his coarse fair hair tickling her breasts. He murmured, \"I love you, Igraine. Whatever comes of this, I love you. And if Gorlois should come here, I will kill him before he can touch you again.\"\n\nShe did not want to think of Gorlois. She smoothed the light hair across his brow and murmured, \"Sleep, my love. Sleep.\"\n\nShe did not want to sleep. Even after his breathing became heavy and slow, she lay wakeful, caressing him softly so as not to wake him. His chest was almost as smooth as her own, with only a little light, fair hair; she had somehow thought all men were heavy and hairy. The scent of his body was sweet, though heavy with sweat and the juices of love. She felt she could never have enough of touching him. Atone and the same time she longed for him to waken and take her again in his arms, and jealously guarded his exhausted sleep. She felt no fear now, and no shame; what had been with Gorlois duty and acceptance had become delight almost unendurable, as if she had been reunited with some hidden part of her own body and soul.\n\nAt last she did sleep a little, fitfully, curled into the curve of his body. She had slept perhaps an hour when she was roused abruptly by commotion in the courtyard. She sat up, flinging her longhair back. Uther pulled her sleepily down." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Lie still, dear love, dawn is still faraway.\"\n\n\"No,\" she said, with sure instinct, \"we dare not linger now.\" She flung on a gown and kirtle, twisting her hair up with shaking hands. The lamp had gone out and she could not find the pin in the darkness. At last she caught up a veil to throw over it, slid her feet into her shoes, and ran down the stairs. It was still far too dark to see clearly. In the great hall there was only a little glimmer of light from the banked fire. And then she came up sharp before a little stirring of the air, and stopped dead.\n\nGorlois stood there, a great sword cut on his face, looking upon her with unutterable grief and reproach and dismay. It was the Sending she had seen before, the fetch, the death-doom; he raised his hand, and she could see that the ring and three fingers had been cutaway. His face bore a ghastly pallor, but he looked at her with grief and love, and his lips moved in what she knew washer name, although she could not hear in the frozen silence around them. And in that moment she knew that he, too, had loved her, in his own harsh way, and whatever he had done to hurt her had been done for love. Indeed, for her love he had quarreled with Uther, flung away honor and dukedom both. And she had returned his love with nothing but hatred and impatience; only now could she understand that even as she felt for Uther, so Gorlois had felt for her. Her throat cramped with anguish and she would have cried out his name, but the dead air moved and he was gone; had never been thereat all. And at that moment the frozen silence around her was lifted and she heard men shouting in the courtyard." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Make way!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "they were crying. \"Make way! Lights, here, lights!\" Father Columba came into the hall, thrust a torch into the banked fire and set it ablaze. He hastened to fling the door wide. \"What is this outcry-\"\n\n\"Your duke is slain, men of Cornwall,\" someone shouted. \"We bring the Duke's body! Make way! Gorlois of Cornwall lies dead and we bring his body for burying!\"\n\nIgraine felt Uther's arms holding her up from behind, else she would have fallen. Father Columba protested loudly, \"No! This cannot be! Why, the Duke came home last night with a few of his men, he's asleep upstairs now in his lady's chamber-\"\n\n\"No.\" It was the voice of the Merlin, quiet, but ringing to the farthest corners of the court. He took one of the torches and thrust it against Father Columba's torch, then gave it to one of the soldiers to hold. \"The oath-breaker Duke came never to Tintagel as a living man. Your lady stands herewith your overlord and your High King, Uther Pendragon. You shall marry them today, Father.\"\n\nThere were cries and mutterings among the men, and the servants who had come running stood numbly watching as the rough bier, animal skins sewn into a litter, was borne into the hall. Igraine shrank away from the covered face and body. Father Columba bent over, briefly uncovered the face, made the sign of the cross, then turned away again. His face was grieved and angry.\n\n\"This is sorcery, this is witchcraft.\" He spat, brandishing the cross between them. \"This foul illusion was your doing, old wizard!\"\n\nIgraine said, \"You will not speak so to my father, priest!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Merlin lifted his hand. \"I need no woman's protection-nor no man's, my lord Uther,\" he said. \"And it was no sorcery. You saw what you willed to see-your lord come home. Only your lord was not the oathbreaker Gorlois, who had forfeited Tintagel, but the true High King and lord who came hereto take what was his own. Keep you to your priestcraft, Father, there is need of a burying, and when that is done, of a nuptial mass for your king and for my lady whom he has chosen queen.\"\n\nIgraine stood within the curve of Uther's arm. She met the resentful, contemptuous look in Father Columba's eyes; she knew that he would have turned on her, called her harlot and witch, but his fear of Uther kept him silent. The priest turned away from her and knelt beside Gorlois's body; he was praying. After a moment Uther knelt too, his fair hair gleaming in the torchlight. Igraine went to kneel at his side. Poor Gorlois. He was dead, he had meta traitor's death; he had richly deserved it, but he had loved her, and he had died.\n\nA hand on her shoulder prevented her. The Merlin looked into her eyes fora moment, and said gently, \"So it has come, Grainne. Your fate, as it was foretold. See that you meet it with such courage as you may.\"\n\nKneeling at Gorlois's side, she prayed-for Gorlois, and then, weeping, for herself; for the unknown fate that lay before them now. Had it indeed been ordained from the beginning of the world, or had it been brought about by the sorcery of the Merlin, and of Avalon, and by her own use of sorcery? Now Gorlois lay dead, and as she looked on Uther's face, already beloved and dear, she knew that soon others would come and he would take up the burdens of his kingdom, and that never again would he be wholly hers as he had been on this one night. Kneeling there between her dead husband and the man she would love all her life, she fought the temptation to play upon his love for her, to turn him, as she knew she could do, from thoughts of kingdom and state to think only of her. But the Merlin had not brought them together for her own joy. She knew that if she sought to keep it, she would rebel against the very fate that had brought them together, and thus destroy it. As Father Columba rose from the dead man's side and signalled to the soldiers to carry the body into the chapel, she touched his arm. He turned impatiently." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My lady?\"\n\n\"I have much to confess to you, Father, before my lord the Duke is laid to rest-and before I am married. Will you hear my confession?\"\n\nHe looked at her, frowning, surprised. At last he said, \"At daybreak, lady,\" and went away. The Merlin followed Igraine with his eyes as she came back to him. She looked into his face and said, \"Here and now, my father, from this moment, be witness that I have done forever with sorcery. What God wills be done.\"\n\nThe Merlin looked tenderly into her ravaged face. His voice was gentler than she had ever heard it. \"Do you think that all our sorcery could bring about anything other than God's will, my child?\"\n\nCatching at some small self-possession-if she did not, she knew, she would weep like a child before all these men-she said, \"I will go and robe myself, Father, and make myself seemly.\"\n\n\"You must greet the day as befits a queen, my daughter.\"\n\nQueen. The word sent shudders through her body. But it was for this\| that she had done all that she had done, it was for this that she had been born. She went slowly up the stairs. She must waken Morgaine and tell her that her father was dead; fortunately the child was too young to remember him, or to grieve.\n\nAnd as she called her women, and had them bring her finest robes and] jewelry and dress her hair, she laid her hand wonderingly over her belly. Somehow, with the last fleeting touch of magic before she renounced it forever, she knew that from this one night, when they had been only lovers and not yet king and queen, she would bear Uther's son. She wondered the Merlin knew." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "MORGAINE SPEAKS...\n\nI think that my first real memory is of my mother's wedding to Uther Pendragon. I remember my father only a little. When I was unhappy as a little girl, I seemed to remember him, a heavyset man with a dark beard and dark hair I remember playing with a chain he wore about his neck. I remember that as a little maiden when I was unhappy, when I was chidden by my mother or my teachers, or when Uther-rarely-noticed me to disapprove of me, I used to comfort myself by thinking that if my own father were alive, he would have been fond of me and taken me on his knee and brought me pretty things. Now that I am older and know what manner of man he was, I think it more likely he would have put me into a nunnery as soon as I had a brother, and never thought more about me.\n\nNot that Uther was ever unkind tome; it was simply that he had no particular interest in a girl child. My mother was always at the center of his heart, and heat hers, and so I resented that-that I had lost my mother to this great fair-hair boorish man. When Uther was away in battle-and there was battle a good deal of the time when I was a maiden-my mother Igraine cherished me and petted me, and taught me to spin with her own hands and to weave in colors. But when Uther's men were sighted, then I went back into my rooms and was forgotten until he went away again. Is it any wonder I hated him and resented, with all my heart, the sight of the dragon banner on any horsemen approaching Tintagel?\n\nAnd when my brother was born it was worse. For there was this crying thing, all pink and white, at my mother's breast; and it was worse that she expected me to care as much for him as she did. \"This is your little brother,\" she said, \"take good care of him, Morgaine, and love him.\" Love him? I hated him with all my heart, for now when I came near her she would pull away and tell me that I was a big girl, too big to be sitting in her lap, too big to bring my ribbons to her for tying, too big to come and lay my head on her knees for comfort. I would have pinched him, except that she would have hated me for it. I sometimes thought she hated me anyhow. And Uther made much of my brother. But I think he always hoped for another son. I was never told, but somehow I knew-maybe I heard the women talking, maybe I was gifted even then with more of the Sight than I realized-that he had first lain with my mother when she was still wedded to Gorlois, and there were still those who believed that this son was not Uther's but the son of the Duke of Cornwall." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "How they could believe that, I could not then understand, for Gorlois, they said, was dark and aquiline, and my brother was like Uther, fair-haired, with grey eyes.\n\nEven during the lifetime of my brother, who was crowned king as Arthur, I heard all kinds of tales about how he came by his name. Even the tale that it was from Arth-Uther, Uther's bear; but it was not so. When he was a babe, he was called Gwydion-bright one-because of his shining hair; the same name his son bore later-but that is another story. The facts are simple: when Gwydion was six years old he was sent to be fostered by Ectorius, one of Uther's vassals in the North country near Eboracum, and Uther would have it that my brother should be baptized as a Christian. And so he was given the name of Arthur.\n\nBut from his birth until he was six years old, he was forever at my heels; as soon as he was weaned, my mother, Igraine, handed him over tome and said, \"This is your little brother and you must love him and care for him.\" And I would have killed the crying thing and thrown him over the cliffs, and run after my mother begging that she should be all mine again, except that my mother cared what happened to him.\n\nOnce, when Uther came and she decked herself in her best gown, as she always did, with her amber and moonstone necklaces, and looked down on me with a careless kiss for me and one for my little brother, ready to rundown to Uther, I looked at her glowing cheeks-heightened with color, her breathing quickened with delight that her man had come-and hated both Uther and my brother. And while I stood weeping at the top of the stairs, waiting for our nurse to come and take us away, he began to toddle down after her, crying out, \"Mother, Mother\"-he could hardly talk, then-and fell and cut his chin on the stair. I screamed for my mother, but she was on her way to the King, and she called back angrily, Morgaine, I told you, look after the baby,\" and hurried on." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I picked him up, bawling, and wiped his chin with my veil. He had cut his lip on his tooth-I think he had only eight or ten, then-and he kept on wailing and calling out for my mother, but when she did not come, I sat down on the step with him in my lap, and he put up his little arms around my neck and buried his face in my tunic and after a time he sobbed himself to sleep there. He was heavy on my lap, and his hair felt soft and damp; he was damp elsewhere, too, but I found I did not mind much, and in the way he clung tome I realized that in his sleep he had forgotten he was not in his mother's arms. I thought, Igraine has forgotten both of us, abandoned him as she abandoned me. Now I must be his mother, I suppose.\n\nAnd so I shook him a little, and when he woke, he put up his little arms around my neck to be carried, and I slung him across my hip as I had seen my nurse do.\n\n\"Don't cry,\" I said, \"I'll take you to nurse.\"\n\n\"Mother,\" he whimpered.\n\n\"Mother's gone, she's with the King,\" I said, \"but I'll take care of you, brother.\" And with his chubby hand in mine I knew what Igraine meant; I was too big a girl to cry or whimper for my mother, because I had a little one to look after now.\n\nI think I was all of seven years old.\n\nWHEN MY MOTHER'S SISTER Morgause was married to King Lot of Orkney, I knew only that I had my first grown-up gown, and an amber necklace with silver. I loved Morgause well, for she often had time for me when Mother did not, and she told me stories of my father-after his death, I think Igraine never spoke his name. But even though I loved Morgause, I feared her, for sometimes she would pinch me and tug my hair and call me tiresome brat, and it was she who first taunted me with the taunt which then made me weep, though now I take pride in it: \"You are born of the fairy folk. Why not paint your face blue and wear deerskins, Morgaine of the Fairies!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I knew only a little about the reasons for the wedding, or why Morgause was to be married so young. I knew my mother was glad to have her married and away, for she fancied Morgause looked on Uther lustfully; she was probably not aware that Morgause looked lustfully on all men she came by. She was a bitch dog in heat, though indeed I suppose it was because she had no one to care what she did. At the wedding, in my new holiday gown, I heard them speak of how fortunate it was that Uther had made haste to amend his quarrel with Lot of Orkney, even giving him his own sister-in-law in marriage. I found Lot charming; only Uther, I think, was ever immune to that charm. Certainly Morgause seemed to love him-or perhaps only found it expedient to act as if she did.\n\nIt was there, I think, that I first remember meeting with the Lady of Avalon. Like Morgause, she was my aunt, my mother's sister, and she was also of the ancient folk-small, and dark, and glowing, with crimson ribbons braided in her dark hair. She was not young, even then, but I thought her, as I always thought her, beautiful; and her voice was rich and low. What I liked best about her was that she spoke tome always as if I were a woman of her own age, not with the cooing falsity with which most grown-up people spoke to a child.\n\nI came into the hall a little late, for my nurse had not been able to manage braiding my hair with ribbons, and in the end I did it myself; I have always been neat-handed, and could do well and swiftly things which grown-up people did only slowly. Already I could spin as well as my mother and better than Morgause ever did. I was very proud of myself, in my saffron gown with ribbons edged with gold, and an amber necklace instead of the baby corals I had outgrown. But there was no seat at the high table, and I circled it in disappointment, knowing that any moment now Mother would banish me to a lower table, or call my nurse to take me away, or call attention tome by sending a serving-woman to fetch a chair. And while I was a princess in Cornwall, at Uther's court in Caerleon I was only the Queen's daughter by a man who had been traitor to his High King." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And then I saw a small, dark woman-so small, in fact, that at first I thought she was a girl only a little older than I-sitting on an embroidered stool. She putout her arms and said, \"Come here, Morgaine. Do you remember me?\"\n\nI did not, but I looked at the dark, glowing face, and felt as if I had known her from the beginning of time.\n\nBut I pouted a little, because I was afraid she would tell me to come and sit on her lap, as if I were a baby. Instead, she smiled and moved to one side of her stool. I could see now that she was not a girl, but a lady.\n\n\"We are neither of us very big,\" she said. \"I think this one stool will hold us both, since it was made for bigger people.\"\n\nFrom that moment I loved her, so much I sometimes felt guilty because Father Columba, my mother's confessor, told me I should honor my mother and my father above all others.\n\nSo I sat beside Viviane through the wedding feast, and I learned that she was Morgause's foster-mother-their mother had died at Morgause's birth and Viviane suckled her as her own. Which fascinated me, because I had been angry when Igraine refused to give my new brother up to a wet nurse and fed him from her own breasts. Uther said it was unseemly fora queen, and I had agreed with him; I had hated seeing Gwydion at Igraine's breasts. I suppose the truth is that l was jealous, though I would have been ashamed to say so.\n\n\"Was your mother, and Igraine's, a queen, then?\" For she was robed as richly as Igraine, or any of the queens of the North." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No, Morgaine, she was not a queen, but a great priestess, the Lady of the Lake; and I am Lady of Avalon in her place. One day, perhaps, you will be a priestess too. You have the old blood, and perhaps you have the Sight.\"\n\n\"What is the Sight?\"\n\nShe frowned. \"Igraine has not told you? Tell me, Morgaine, do you ever see things that others cannot see?\"\n\n\"All the time,\" I said, realizing that this lady understood all about me. \"Only Father Columba says it is the work of the Devil. And Mother says that I should be silent about it, and never speak of it to anyone, even to her, because these things are not suitable fora Christian court and if Uther knew of them he would send me into a nunnery. I do not think I want to go into a nunnery and wear black clothes and never laugh again.\"\n\nViviane said a word for which nurse had washed my mouth outwith the harsh lye soap the kitchen people used for scrubbing floors. \"Listen tome, Morgaine. Your mother is right that you should never speak of these things to Father Columba-\"\n\n\"But God will be angry with me if I lie to a priest.\"\n\nShe said the bad word again. \"Listen, dear child: a priest will be angry if you lie to him, and say it is his God who is angry. But the Great Creator has better things to do than to be angry with young people, and this is a matter for your own conscience. Trust me, Morgaine: never say anymore to Father Columba than you must, but always believe what the Sight tells you, for it comes to you directly from the Goddess.\"\n\n\"Is the Goddess the same as the Virgin Mary, Mother of God?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She frowned. \"All the Gods are one God and all the Goddesses are one Goddess. The Great Goddess will not be angry if you call her by the name of Mary, who was good and loved mankind. Listen, my dear, this is no talk fora festival. But I swear you shall never go into a nunnery while there is life and breath in my body, no matter what Uther may say. Now that I know you have the Sight, I will move Heaven and Earth if I must, to bring you to Avalon. Shall this be a secret between us, Morgaine? Will you promise me?\"\n\n\"I promise,\" I said, and she leaned down and kissed my cheek. \"Listen, the harpers are beginning to play for the dancing. Is Morgause not beautiful in her blue gown?\"\n\nOn a spring day in the seventh year of the reign of Uther Pendragon at Caerleon, Viviane, priestess of Avalon and Lady of the Lake, went out at twilight to look into her magic mirror.\n\nAlthough the tradition in which the Lady was priestess was older than the Druids, she shared one of the great tenets of the Druid faith: that the great forces which created the Universe could not be fitly worshipped in a house made with human hands, nor the Infinite contained within any man-made thing. And therefore the Lady's mirror was not of bronze or even silver.\n\nBehind her rose the grey stonewalls of the ancient Temple of the Sun, built by the Shining Ones who had come therefrom Atlantis, centuries before. Before her lay the great lake, surrounded by tall, waving reeds, and swathed in the mist which, even on fine days, lay now across the land of Avalon. But beyond the Lake lay islands and more lakes, all through the whole of what was called the Summer Country. It lay mostly underwater, bog and salt marsh, but in the height of summer, the pools and some of the brackish lakes would dry in the sun and the lands would lie there, fertile for grazing and rich with grass and weeds." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Here, in fact, the inland sea was receding, year by year giving way to dry land; one day this would all be rich farmland..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "but not in Avalon. Avalon now lay eternally surrounded in the mists, hidden from all but the faithful, and when men came and went in pilgrimage to the monastery which the Christian monks called Glass Town, the Temple of the Sun was invisible to them, lying in some strange otherworld; Viviane could see, when she bent her Sight upon it, the church they had built there.\n\nIt had been therefor along time, she knew, though she had never set foot upon its grounds. Centuries ago-so the Merlin had told her, and she believed him-a little band of priests had come here from the south, and with them had been their Nazarene prophet for schooling; and the story went that Jesus himself had been schooled there, in the dwelling place of the Druids where once the Temple of the Sun had risen, and had learned all of their wisdom. And years later, when-so the story ran-their Christ had been brought to sacrifice, playing out in his life the old Mystery of the Sacrificed God which was older than Britain's very self, one of his kinsmen returned here, and struck his staff into the ground on the Holy Hill, and it had blossomed forth into the thorn tree which blossoms, not only with the other thorn, in Midsummer, but in the depth of the winter snow. And the Druids, in memory of the gentle prophet whom they too had known and loved, consented that Joseph of Arimathea should build, in the very grounds of the Holy Isle, a chapel and a monastery to their God; for all the Gods are one.\n\nBut that had been long ago. Fora time, Christian and Druid had dwelt side by side, worshipping the One, but then the Romans had come to the Isle, and, although they were widely known for tolerating local deities, against the Druids they had been ruthless, cutting and burning down their sacred groves, trumping up lies that the Druids committed human sacrifice. Their real crime, of course, had been that they heartened the people not to accept the Roman laws and the Roman peace. And then, in one great act of Druid magic, to protect the last precious refuge of their school, they had made the last great change hi the world; that change which removed the Island of Avalon from the world of mankind. Now it lay hidden in the mist which concealed it, except from those initiates who had been schooled there or those who were shown the secret ways through the Lake. The Tribesmen knew it was there, and there they worshipped. The Romans, Christian since the days of Constantine, who had converted his legions wholesale on the grounds of some vision he had seen in a battle, believed that the Druids had been vanquished by their Christ, not knowing that the few remaining Druids lived and passed on their ancient wisdom in the hidden land." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Viviane could see, if she chose, with doubled Sight, for she was High Priestess of Avalon." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When she chose she could seethe tower they had built atop the very Tor, on the Holy Mountain of Initiation; a tower dedicated to Michael, one of their Jewish angels whose ancient function was to keep down the inferior world of demons. This struck Viviane as a blasphemy, even now, but she comforted herself with the thought that it was not in her world at all; if the narrow-minded Christians wished to think of the great old Gods as demons, the Christians would be the poorer for it. The Goddess lived, whatever the Christians thought of her. She turned her thoughts to her own business, which was to look into her magic mirror while the new moon still stood in the sky.\n\nAlthough it was still light enough to see perfectly well, the Lady had carried with her a little lamp with a tiny flickering flame. She turned her back on the reeds and salt marsh, and walked inland along the path, climbing slowly along the reedy shore, passing the ancient rotted pilings of the dwellers who had built their houses thereat the edge of the Lake in time long past.\n\nHer small lamp flickered, becoming more and more visible in the darkness, and above the trees the pure, slim crescent of the virgin moon, barely visible, shone like the silver torque about the Lady's throat. She went along the ancient processional way, climbing slowly-for, although she was still strong and vigorous, she was not a young woman-until she came to the mirror pool, lying clear between standing stones of enormous antiquity.\n\nThe water was clear, reflecting the moonlight and, as she bent over it, springing into flame at the Lady's tiny lamp. She bent, dipped her hand in the water, and drank-it was forbidden to dip any man-made object into the pool, though above them, where the water bubbled into a spring, pilgrims might come with bottles and jugs and takeaway what they would from the flow. She tasted the clear, metallic-tasting water, and as always felt the stir of awe: this spring had been flowing since the beginning of the world, and it would flow forever, generous and magical, and free to all people. Surely such a spring as this was the gift of the Great Goddess, and Viviane knelt as she drank, raising her face to the slender crescent in the sky." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But after that momentary renewal of awe, which she had observed since first she came here, a novice of the House of Maidens, she turned back to her business. She set the lamp on a flat rock near the lip of the mirror pool, so that its light would reflect, as would the crescent moon, into the water. Now there were present the four elements: fire, in her lamp; water, from which she had drunk; the earth where she stood; and as she invoked the powers of air, she saw, as always during this invocation, a vagrant breeze ripple across the surface.\n\nShe sat fora moment in meditation. Then at last she formulated to herself the question for which she would consult the magical mirror.\n\nHow is it with Britain? How is it with my sister, and her daughter who is priestess-born, and with the son who is the hope of Britain?\n\nFora moment, as the wind stirred the surface of the mirror pool, she saw only confused images, flowing-were they within her mind, or on the restless surface of the pool? She caught glimpses of battles, blurred by the restless water; she saw Uther's dragon banner and saw her Tribesmen fighting at his side. She saw Igraine robed and crowned, as she had seen her in the flesh. And then, in a flash that made her heart pound faster, she saw Morgaine weeping; and in a second and terrifying flash of Sight, she saw a fair-haired child lying senseless, motionless-dead or alive?\n\nThen the moon sank out of sight beyond the mist, and the vision was gone, and try as she might, Viviane could summon nothing back except mocking glimpses: Morgause holding her second son, Lot and Uther pacing in a great hall and hurling angry words, and the confused memory of the bruised and dying child. But had these things been, or were they only a warning of things yet to come?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Biting her lip, Viviane bent and picked up her mirror." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She cast the remaining drops of pure oil into the surface of the pool-oil burned for the Sight must never be used for mundane purpose-and went swiftly in the falling darkness along the processional way and to the dwelling of the priestesses.\n\nOnce there, she summoned her waiting-woman. \"Make all ready to ride at first dawn,\" she said, \"and let my novice make ready to serve at full moon, for before it waxes another day, I must be in Caerleon. Send to tell the Merlin.\"\n\nThey travelled mostly in the early hours, lying hidden at midday and riding again at dusk. The country was for the moment peaceful-the war was away to the east. But stray bands of marauding Northmen or Saxons had been known before this to fall upon villages or isolated country villas. Travellers, too, unless protected by armed men, went warily and trusted no one.\n\nViviane had half expected to find Uther's court deserted, abandoned to women and children and those who could not fight, but from a distance she saw the dragon banner flying, which meant that the King was in residence. Her lips tightened; Uther neither liked nor trusted the Druids of the Holy Isle. Yet she had set this man whom she disliked on his throne, because he was the best of the leaders who had risen in the island, and now, somehow, she must work with him. At least he was not such a dedicated Christian that he would set himself to the task of wiping out other religions. Better, she thought, to have an ungodly man for High King than a religious fanatic.\n\nSince she had been last at Uther's court the fortified wall had risen higher, and there were sentries on the wall, who called out to challenge her party. She had instructed her men to use none of her titles, but to say only that the Queen's sister had come. It was not the time to demand that they give respect to her as the Lady of Avalon; her present mission was too urgent for that." }, { "from": "human", "value": "They were led through the grass-grown enclosure, past all the clutter of an enclosed fort." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She could hear somewhere the sound of an armorer or blacksmith beating on his anvil. Some herdswomen clad roughly in skin tunics were driving sheep inside for the night. Viviane, recognizing all these preparations fora siege, raised her eyelids slightly.\n\nA scant few years before, Igraine had run to meet her in the courtyard at Tintagel. Now a solemn chamberlain, richly clad, and having but one arm-no doubt, a veteran of Uther's service-welcomed her with a solemn bow and conducted her to an upper chamber. \"I am sorry, Lady,\" he said, \"we are short of living space here. You must share this room with two of the Queen's ladies.\"\n\n\"I shall be honored,\" she said gravely.\n\n\"I will send you a serving-woman. You have only to ask her for anything you require.\"\n\n\"All I require,\" said Viviane, \"is a little water for washing, and to know when I can see my sister.\"\n\n\"Lady, I am certain the Queen will receive you at the proper time....\"\n\n\"Does Uther keep state like the Caesars, then? Listen tome, fellow, I am the Lady of Avalon, and I am not accustomed to be kept waiting. But if Igraine has grown to such high state as all this, then I beg you to send the lady Morgaine tome as quickly as is possible!\"\n\nThe one-armed veteran shrank back, but when he spoke his voice was less formal and more human. \" Lady, I am sure the Queen would receive you willingly, at once, but you have come at a time of trouble and danger.\n\nThe young prince Gwydion fell this morning from a horse no one should have let him ride, and the Queen won't leave his side, not for an instant.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"By the Goddess!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I came too late, then!\" Viviane whispered to herself.\n\nAloud, she said, \"Take me to them, at once. I am skilled in all the healing arts, and I am sure Igraine would have sent for me if she knew I were here.\"\n\nHe bowed and said, \"Come this way, Lady.\"\n\nFollowing him, Viviane realized that she had not even had time to remove her cloak or the men's breeches she wore for riding; and she had meant to present herself in all the dignity of Avalon. Well, this was more important.\n\nOutside the door, the chamberlain paused. \"It would be as much as my head's worth to disturb the Queen. She won't even let her ladies bring her food or drink-\"\n\nViviane pushed the heavy door and went into the room. Dead silence; it was uncannily like a death chamber. Igraine, pale and wan, her headcloth rumpled, knelt like a stone figure beside the bed. A black-robed priest stood motionless, muttering prayers under his breath. Softly as she moved, Igraine heard her.\n\n\"How dare you-\" she began in a furious whisper, and broke off. \"Viviane! God must have sent you tome!\"\n\n\"I had a warning that you might need me,\" said Viviane. This was no time to speak of magical visions. \"No, Igraine, you can do no good by weeping,\" she added. \"Let me look at him and see how serious this is.\"\n\n\"The King's physician-\"\n\n\"Is probably an old fool who knows nothing but potions of goat's dung,\" said Viviane calmly. \"I was healing wounds of this kind before you were out of swaddlings, Igraine. Let me seethe child.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "She had seen Uther's son only once, briefly; he had been about three years old, and looked like any other fair-haired, blue-eyed toddler." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now he had stretched out to unusual tallness for his age-thin, but well-muscled arms and legs, much scratched by briars and brambles like any active boy's. She put aside the covers and saw the great livid bruises on his body. \"Did he cough any blood at all?\"\n\n\"Not even a little. The blood on his mouth was where a tooth was knocked out, but it was loose anyway.\"\n\nAnd indeed Viviane could seethe contused lip and the extra gap in his mouth. More serious was the bruise on the temple, and Viviane knew a moment of real fear. Had all their planning come to this?\n\nShe ran her small fingers across his head. She could see him flinch when she touched the bruise, and that was the best sign she could possibly have had. If he had been bleeding inside the skull, he would by this time have been so deep in coma that no possible pain could reach him. She reached down and pinched his thigh, very hard, and he whimpered in his sleep.\n\nIgraine protested. \"You are hurting him!\"\n\n\"No,\" Viviane said, \"I am trying to find out if he will live or die. Believe me, he will live.\" She slapped his cheek gently and he opened his eyes fora moment." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Bring me the candle,\" Viviane said, and moved it slowly across his field of vision. He followed it fora moment before his eyes fell shut again, with a whimper of pain.\n\nViviane rose from his side. \"Make sure he's kept quiet, and nothing but water or soup, nothing solid to eat fora day or two. And don't sop his bread in wine; only in soup or milk. He'll be running allover the place in three days.\"\n\n\"How do you know?\" demanded the priest.\n\n\"Because I am trained in healing, how do you think?\"\n\n\"Are you not a sorceress from the Island of Witches?\"\n\nViviane laughed softly. \"By no means, Father. I am a woman who, like yourself, has spent her life in the study of holy things, and God has seen fit to give me skill at healing.\" She could, she reflected, turn their own jargon against them; she knew, if he did not, that the God they both worshipped was greater and less bigoted than any priesthood.\n\n\"Igraine, I must talk to you. Come away-\"\n\n\"I must be here when he wakes again, he will want me-\"\n\n\"Nonsense; send his nurse to him. This is a matter of importance!\"\n\nIgraine glared at her. \"Bring Isotta to sit beside him,\" she said to one of the women, with an angry look, and followed Viviane into the hall.\n\n\"Igraine, how did this happen?\"\n\n\"I am not sure-some tale about riding his father's stallion-I am confused. I only know that they carried him in like one dead-\"\n\n\"And it was only your good fortune that he was not dead,\" Viviane said bluntly. \"Is it thus that Uther safeguards the life of his only son?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Viviane, don't reproach me-I have tried to give him others,\" Igraine said, and her voice shook. \"But I think I am being punished for my adultery, that I can give Uther no other son-\"\n\n\"Are you mad, Igraine?\" Viviane burst out, then stopped herself. It was not fair to upbraid her sister when she was distracted from watching at the bedside of her sick child. \"I came because I foresaw some danger to you or the child. But we can talk of that later. Call your women, put on fresh clothing-and when did you last eat anything?\" she asked shrewdly.\n\n\"I can't remember-I think I had a little bread and wine last night-\"\n\n\"Then call your women, and break your fast,\" Viviane said impatiently. \"I am still dusty from riding. Let me go and wash off the dirt of travel, and clothe myself as is seemly fora lady inside the walls, and then we will talk.\"\n\n\"Are you angry with me, Viviane?\"\n\nViviane patted heron the shoulder. \"I am angry, if it is anger, only at the way fate seems to fall, and that is foolish of me. Go and dress, Igraine, and eat something. The child's come to no harm this time.\"\n\nInside her room afire had been built, and on a small stool before it, she saw an undersized female, dressed in a robe so dark and plain that fora moment Viviane thought it was one of the serving wenches. Then, she saw that the simple gown was of the finest stuff, the headcloth embroidered linen, and she recognized Igraine's daughter.\n\n\"Morgaine,\" she said, and kissed her. The girl was almost as tall now as Viviane herself. \"Why, I think of you as a child, but you are almost a woman....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I heard you had come, Aunt, and came to welcome you, but they told me you had gone at once to my brother's bedside. How does he, Lady?\"\n\n\"He's badly bruised and banged about, but he'll be well again with no treatment but rest,\" Viviane said. \"When he wakes, I must somehow convince Igraine and Uther to keep the physicians and their stupid potions away from him; if they make him vomit, he'll be worse. I got nothing from your mother but weeping and wailing. Can you tell me how this came to happen? Is there no one here who can guard a child properly?\"\n\nMorgaine twisted her small fingers together. \"I am not sure how it happened. My brother's a brave child and always wants to ride horses which are too fast and too strong for him, but Uther has given orders that he's only to ride with a groom. His pony was lame that day, and he asked for another horse, but how he came to takeout Uther's stallion, no one knows; all the grooms know that he's never allowed to go near Thunder, and everyone denied seeing him. Uther swore he'd hang the groom who allowed it, but that groom has put the river between Uther and himself by now, I should imagine. Still, they say Gwydion stuck on Thunder's back like a sheep in a thorn thicket until someone loosed a breeding mare in the stallion's path, and we cannot find out who loosed the mare, either. So of course the stallion was off after the mare, and my brother was off the stallion, in the blink of an eyelash!\" Her face, small and dark and plain, quivered. \"He's really going to live?\"\n\n\"He's really going to live.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Has anyone yet sent word to Uther? Mother and the priest said he could do no good in the sickroom-\"\n\n\"No doubt Igraine will attend to that.\"\n\n\"No doubt,\" Morgaine said, and Viviane surprised a cynical smile on her face. Morgaine, evidently, bore no love to Uther, and thought no more of her mother for her love to her husband. Yet she had been conscientious enough to remember that Uther should be sent word about his son's life. This was no ordinary young girl.\n\n\"How old are you now, Morgaine? The years go by so fast, I no longer remember, as I grow old.\"\n\n\"I shall be eleven at Midsummer.\"\n\nOld enough, Viviane thought, to be trained as a priestess. She looked down and realized she was still wearing her travel-stained clothing. \"Morgaine, will you have the serving-women bring me some water for washing, and send someone to help me robe myself properly to appear before the King and Queen?\"\n\n\"Water I have sent for; it is there, in the cauldron by the fire,\" Morgaine said, and then hesitated and added shyly, \"I would be honored to attend on you myself, Lady.\"\n\n\"If you wish.\" Viviane let Morgaine help her remove her outer garments and wash off the dust of travel. Her saddlebags had been sent up too, and she put on a green gown; Morgaine touched the cloth with admiring fingers.\n\n\"This is a fine green dye. Our women can make no green as fine as this. Tell me, what do you use to make it?\"\n\n\"Woad, no more.\"\n\n\"I thought that made only blue dyes.\"\n\n\"No. This is prepared differently, boiled and fixed-I will talk of dyes with you later, if you are interested in herb lore,\" Viviane said. \"Now we have other matters on our mind. Tell me, is your brother given to escapades like this?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Not really." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He is strong and hardy, but he's usually biddable enough,\" Morgaine said. \"Once someone taunted him about riding so small a pony, and he said that he was to be a warrior and a soldier's first duty is to obey orders, and that his father had forbidden him to ride a horse beyond his strength. So I can't imagine how he came to ride Thunder. But still, he wouldn't have been hurt unless...\"\n\nViviane nodded. \"I would like to know who loosed that mare, and why.\"\n\nMorgaine's eyes widened as she took in the implications of this. Watching her, Viviane said, \"Think. Has he had any other narrow escapes from death, Morgaine?\"\n\nMorgaine said, hesitating, \"He had the summer fever-but then, all the children had that last year. Uther said he should not have been allowed to play with the shepherd's boys. He caught the fever from them, I think-four of them died. But there was the time when he was poisoned-\"\n\n\"Poisoned?\"\n\n\"Isotta-and I would trust her with my life, Lady-swears that she put only wholesome herbs into his soup. Yet he was as sick as if a death-cup mushroom had found its way into his porridge. And yet how could that be? She knows wholesome ones from the poisonous, and she is not yet old and her eyesight is good.\" Again Morgaine's eyes widened. \"Lady Viviane, do you think there are people plotting against my brother's life?\"\n\nViviane drew the girl down to her side. \"I came here because I had a warning of this. I have not yet inquired whence the danger comes, I had no time. Do you have the Sight still, Morgaine? When last I spoke with you, you said-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The girl colored and looked down at her shoes. \"You bade me not speak of it. And Igraine says I should turn my thoughts to real things and not daydreams, and so I have tried....\"\n\n\"Igraine is right thus far: that you should not speak idly of these things to the once-born,\" Viviane said. \"But tome, you may always speak freely, I promise you. My Sight can show me only such things as are relevant to the safety of the Holy Isle and the continuance of Avalon, but Uther's son is your own mother's son, and by that tie, your Sight will find him and be able to tell who is trying to compass his death. Uther has enemies enough, all the Gods know.\"\n\n\"But I do not know how to use the Sight.\"\n\n\"I will show you, if you wish it,\" said Viviane.\n\nThe girl looked up at her, her face taut with fear. \"Uther has forbidden sorceries in his court.\"\n\n\"Uther is not my master,\" Viviane said slowly, \"and no one can rule over another's conscience. Yet-do you think it an offense to God, to try to discover whether someone is plotting against your brother's life, or whether it is only bad luck?\"\n\nMorgaine said unsteadily, \"No, I don't think it wicked.\" She stopped and swallowed and finally said, \"And I do not think you would lead me into anything that was wrong, Aunt.\"\n\nA sudden pain clutched at Viviane's heart. What had she done to earn this trust? With all her heart she wished that this small solemn girl washer own daughter, the daughter she owed the Holy Isle and had never been able to bear. Even though she had risked a belated childbearing, of which she had nearly died, she had borne only sons. And here, it seemed, was the successor the Goddess had sent her, a kinswoman with the Sight, and the girl was looking up at her with complete trust. Fora moment she could not speak." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Am I prepared to be ruthless with this girl too? Can I train her, never sparing, or will my love make me less harsh than I must be to train a High Priestess?\n\nCan I use her love for me, which I have in noway deserved, to bring her to the feet of the Goddess?\n\nBut with the discipline of years, she waited until her voice was clear and perfectly steady. \"Be it so, then. Bring me a silver or bronze basin, perfectly clean and scoured with sand, and fill it with fresh rainwater, not water drawn from the well. Be sure that you speak to no manor woman after you have filled the basin.\"\n\nShe waited, composed, seated by her fire, until at last Morgaine returned.\n\n\"I had to scrub it myself,\" she said, but the basin she held out was shining and brilliant, filled to the brim with clear water. \"Now, unbind your hair, Morgaine.\"\n\nThe girl looked at her curiously, but Viviane said, low and stern, \"No questions.\"\n\nMorgaine pulled out the bone hairpin, and her long locks, dark and coarse and perfectly straight, came tumbling down around her shoulders. \"Now, if you are wearing any jewelry, take it off, and set it over there, so that it will not be near the basin.\"\n\nMorgaine tugged off two little gilt rings she had on her finger, and\| unpinned the brooch from her overdress. Without the pin holding it, the overdress fell around her shoulders, and without comment, Viviane helped her pull it off, so that she stood in her undergown alone. Then Viviane opened a little bag she wore about her neck and took out a small quantity of crushed herbs, which wafted a sweetish-musty scent through the chamber. She sifted only a few grains into the basin of water before saying in a low, neutral voice, \"Look into the water, Morgaine. Make your mind perfectly still, and tell me what you see.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine came and knelt before the basin of water, looking intently into its clear surface. The room was very silent, so still that Viviane could I hear the small chirping of some insect outside. Then Morgaine said, in a wandering, unfocused voice, \"I see a boat. It is draped with black and there I are four women in it... four queens, for they wear crowns... and one J of them is you... or is it me?\"\n\n\"It is the barge of Avalon,\" Viviane said, low. \"I know what you see.\"\n\nShe passed her hand lightly over the water and saw the ripples follow her hand. \"Look again, Morgaine. Tell me what you see.\"\n\nThis time the silence was longer. Finally the girl said, in that same strange tone, \"I see deer-a great herd of deer, and a man among them with his body painted-they put the antlers on him-oh, he is down, they will kill him-\" Her voice trembled and again Viviane passed her hand above the surface of the water, and the ripples passed over the surface. \"Enough,\" she commanded. \"Now see your brother.\" Silence, again, a silence that stretched and dragged; Viviane felt her body cramped with the tension of stillness but she did not move, with the long discipline of her training. At last Morgaine murmured, \"How still he lies... but he is breathing, soon he will wake. I see my mother... no, it is not Mother, it is my aunt Morgause, and all of her children are with her... there are four of them... how strange, they are all wearing crowns... and there is another, he is holding a dagger... why is he so young? Is he her son? Oh, he will kill him, he will kill him-ah, no!\" Her voice rose to a shriek. Viviane touched her shoulder. \"Enough,\" she said. \"Wake, Morgaine.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The girl shook her head like a puppy stretching after sleep. \"Did I see anything?\" she asked.\n\nViviane nodded. \"Someday you will learn to see and to remember,\" she said. \"For now it is enough.\"\n\nNow she was armed to confront Uther and Igraine. Lot of Orkney was, as far as she knew, an honorable man, and had taken oath to support Uther. But should Uther die without an heir... Morgause had borne two sons already and there were likely to be more-Morgaine had seen four, and there was noway in which the little Kingdom of Orkney would support four princes. The brothers, when they grew to manhood, were likely to beat one another's throats. And Morgause... sighing, Viviane remembered Morgause's vaulting ambition. If Uther died without an heir, then Lot, married to the Queen's own sister, would be a logical choice for the throne. And the succession would be Lot as High King, Lot's sons heirs to the smaller kingdoms....\n\nWould Morgause stoop to plot against the life of a child? Viviane did not like to think that of the girl she had nursed at her own breasts. But Morgause and Lot, together, with their ambitions!\n\nEasy enough, perhaps, to bribe a groom or insinuate one of her own men into Uther's court, with orders to lead the child into danger as often as possible. Not so easy, of course, to get pasta faithful nurse who was his own mother's faithful waiting-woman, but she could be drugged, or given stronger drink than usual, to make her confused, so that something deadly found its way past her vigilance. And no matter how well a child rode, it would take more strength than any six-year-old had to hold a stallion who scented a mare in season." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All our plans could have come to ruin in a moment....\n\nAt suppertime she found Uther alone at the high table, while the vassals and serving-men ate their bread and bacon at a lower table in the hall. He rose and saluted her courteously.\n\n\"Igraine is still at her son's side, sister-in-law; I begged her to go and sleep, but she said she would sleep after he wakened and knew her.\"\n\n\"I have already spoken with Igraine, Uther.\"\n\n\"Oh, yes, she told me, she said you have given your word that he would live. Was that wise? If he dies after that-\"\n\nUther's face was drawn and worried. He looked no older than when he had married Igraine; his hair was so fair, Viviane thought, that no one could see whether it was greyed or not. He was richly dressed in the Roman fashion, and he was clean-shaven, too, like a Roman. He wore no crown, but around his upper arms he had two torques of pure gold, and a rich gold collar.\n\n\"He won't die this time. I have some experience with head wounds. And the injuries to the body haven't penetrated the lungs. He'll be running around in a day or two.\"\n\nUther's face relaxed somewhat. \"If I ever find out who loosed that mare... I should beat the boy senseless for riding Thunder!\"\n\n\"There would be no point in that. He has already paid the price of his rashness, and I am sure it will teach him whatever lesson is needed,\" Viviane said. \"But you should set better guard on your son.\"\n\n\"I cannot guard him night and day.\" Uther's face was haggard. \"I am away so often at the wars, and I cannot keep so big a boy tied to his nurse's apron! And we have come near to losing him before this-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Morgaine told me.\"\n\n\"Bad luck, bad luck. The man with only one son walks always at the mercy of any stroke of bad luck,\" said Uther. \"But I am remiss in courtesy, kinswoman. Here, sit beside me, share my dish if you will. I know Igraine longed to send to you, and I gave her leave to send a messenger, but you have come more swiftly than any of us dreamed-is it true, then, that the witches of the Holy Islands can fly?\"\n\nViviane chuckled. \"Would that I could! I would not have spoiled two pair of good shoes in the mire! Alas, the folk of Avalon, and the Merlin himself, must walk or ride, even as common folk.\" She took apiece of the wheaten loaf and helped herself to butter from a small wooden cask. \"You who wear the serpents at your wrists should know better than to credit those old fables! But there is a bond of blood between us. Igraine is my mother's daughter, and I know when she has need of me.\"\n\nUther set his lips tight. \"I have had dreams and sorceries enough, I want no more of them in my life.\"\n\nThis, as it was intended to do, silenced Viviane. She allowed one of the serving-men to help her to salted mutton, and spoke amiably about the fresh boiled herbs, the first of the year. When she had eaten sparingly, she set down her knife and said, \"However I came here, Uther, it was by good fortune, and a sign tome that your child is guarded by the Gods, for he is needed.\"\n\n\"I cannot bear much more of such fortune,\" Uther said, and his voice was taut. \"If you area sorceress indeed, sister-in-law, I would beg you to give Igraine a charm against barrenness. I thought when we were wedded that she would give me many children, since she had already borne a daughter to old Gorlois, but we have only one, and already he is six years old.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "It is written in the stars that you shall have no other son." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But Viviane forbore to say this to the man before her. Instead she said, \"I will speak with Igraine, and be sure whether it is not some sickness in her which keeps her from conceiving.\"\n\n\"Oh, she conceives right enough, but she can carry the child no more than a moon or two, and the one she brought to birth bled to death when his navel string was cut,\" Uther said grimly. \"He was misshapen, so perhaps it was as well, but if you could give her some charm fora healthy child-I do not know whether I believe in such things, but I am ready to grasp at any straw!\"\n\n\"I have no such charms,\" Viviane said, honestly pitying him. \"I am not the Great Goddess, to give or withhold children from you, and I would not if I could. I cannot meddle with what the fates have decreed. Does not your own priest say as much to you?\"\n\n\"Oh, aye, Father Columba speaks about submitting myself to the will of God; but the priest has not a kingdom to rule, which will fall into chaos if I die without an heir,\" Uther said. \"I cannot believe that is what God wants!\"\n\n\"None of us knows what God wants,\" Viviane said, \"not you, nor I, nor even Father Columba. But it seems certain tome, and it heeds neither magic nor sorcery to see it, that you must guard the life of this little one, since he must come to the throne.\"\n\nUther's mouth tightened. \"God avert that fate,\" he said. \"I should grieve for Igraine's sake if her son died, and even for my own-he is a fine and promising child-but he cannot be heir to the High King of Britain. There is no man in all the length and breadth of this kingdom who does not know that he was begotten while Igraine was still wife to Gorlois, and he came to birth a whole moon sooner than he should have been born, to be my son. True, he was small and puny, and babes are cast forth from the womb before their proper time, but I cannot go around and tell all those in the kingdom who were counting on their fingers, can I? He will be Duke of Cornwall when he is grown, but I cannot hope to make him High King after me. Even if he lives to grow up, which with his luck is unlikely.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Extend the narrative as the author's co-writer.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 2" }, { "from": "human", "value": "It is written in the stars that you shall have no other son." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But Viviane forbore to say this to the man before her. Instead she said, \"I will speak with Igraine, and be sure whether it is not some sickness in her which keeps her from conceiving.\"\n\n\"Oh, she conceives right enough, but she can carry the child no more than a moon or two, and the one she brought to birth bled to death when his navel string was cut,\" Uther said grimly. \"He was misshapen, so perhaps it was as well, but if you could give her some charm fora healthy child-I do not know whether I believe in such things, but I am ready to grasp at any straw!\"\n\n\"I have no such charms,\" Viviane said, honestly pitying him. \"I am not the Great Goddess, to give or withhold children from you, and I would not if I could. I cannot meddle with what the fates have decreed. Does not your own priest say as much to you?\"\n\n\"Oh, aye, Father Columba speaks about submitting myself to the will of God; but the priest has not a kingdom to rule, which will fall into chaos if I die without an heir,\" Uther said. \"I cannot believe that is what God wants!\"\n\n\"None of us knows what God wants,\" Viviane said, \"not you, nor I, nor even Father Columba. But it seems certain tome, and it heeds neither magic nor sorcery to see it, that you must guard the life of this little one, since he must come to the throne.\"\n\nUther's mouth tightened. \"God avert that fate,\" he said. \"I should grieve for Igraine's sake if her son died, and even for my own-he is a fine and promising child-but he cannot be heir to the High King of Britain. There is no man in all the length and breadth of this kingdom who does not know that he was begotten while Igraine was still wife to Gorlois, and he came to birth a whole moon sooner than he should have been born, to be my son. True, he was small and puny, and babes are cast forth from the womb before their proper time, but I cannot go around and tell all those in the kingdom who were counting on their fingers, can I? He will be Duke of Cornwall when he is grown, but I cannot hope to make him High King after me. Even if he lives to grow up, which with his luck is unlikely.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"He looks enough like you,\" Viviane said. \"Do you think everyone at court is blind?\"\n\n\"But what of all those who have never come to court? No, I must get myself an heir on whose birth there can be no stain. Igraine must bear me a son.\n\n\"Well, God grant it be so,\" Viviane said, \"but you cannot force your will on God either, nor allow Gwydion's life to be thrown away. Why not: send him to fosterage at Tintagel? That is so remote, and if you put him in charge of your most trusted vassal, sending him there would convince everyone that he was truly Cornwall's son and you have no intention of J making him High King; perhaps then they would not bother to plot against J him.\"\n\nUther frowned. \"His life would not be safe till after Igraine had borne me another son,\" he said, \"even if I sent him as far as Rome, or to the\| country of the Goths!\"\n\n\"And with the hazards of the road, that is not practical,\" Viviane agreed. \"I have, then, another suggestion. Send him tome, to be fostered: in Avalon. None can come there except the faithful who serve the Holy Isle. My own youngest son is already seven, but soon he will be sent to King Ban in Less Britain, to be fostered as suits a nobleman's son. Ban has other sons, so Galahad is not his heir, but Ban acknowledges him, and has given him lands and estates, and will have him at court as a page, and a soldier when he is grown. At Avalon, your son will learn all that he needs to know about the history of his land, and his destiny... and the destiny of Britain Uther, none of your enemies knows where Avalon lies, and no harm could come near him.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"It would keep him safe." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But for practical reasons, it is not possible. My son must be reared as a Christian; the church is powerful. They would never accept any king-\"\n\n\"I thought you said he could not be king after you,\" Viviane said dryly.\n\n\"Well, there is always the possibility,\" Uther said in despair, \"if Igraine should have no other son. If he has been fostered among the Druids and their magic-the priests would call that evil.\"\n\n\"Do I seem evil to you, Uther? Or does the Merlin?\" She looked straight into his eyes and Uther let his gaze fall.\n\n\"No, of course not.\"\n\n\"Then why will you not entrust Igraine's son to his wisdom and mine, Uther?\"\n\n\"Because I too distrust the magic of Avalon,\" said Uther at last. With a nervous gesture he touched the tattooed serpents around his arms. \"I saw such things on yonder island as would make any good Christian turn pale and by the time my son is grown, this isle will be all Christian. There will be no need fora king to deal in such things.\"\n\nViviane felt like raging, Fool, it was the Merlin and I who set you on that throne, not your Christian priests and bishops. But there was no good to be gained in arguing with Uther.\n\n\"You must do as your own conscience bids you, Uther. But I beg you to send him somewhere for fostering, and let that place be secret. Give it out that you are sending him out to be brought up in obscurity, away from the flattery of a prince at court-that's common enough-and let people think he's going to Less Britain, where he has cousins at Ban's court. Then send him to one of your poorer vassals-one of Ambrosius\" old courtiers, perhaps: Uriens, Ectorius, someone very obscure and very trustworthy.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Uther nodded slowly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It will be a wrench to Igraine to part with the child,\" he said, \"but a prince must be fostered as suits his future destiny, and schooled in military strength. I will not tell even you, sister-in-law, where he is to go.\"\n\nViviane smiled to herself, thinking, Do you really think you can keep it secret from me, Uther, if I wish to know? But she was too diplomatic to say it aloud.\n\n\"I have another boon to ask of you, brother-in-law,\" she said. \"Give me Morgaine to foster in Avalon.\"\n\nUther stared a moment, then shook his head. \"Impossible.\"\n\n\"What is impossible to a High King, Pendragon?\"\n\n\"There are only two fates for Morgaine,\" said Uther. \"She must marry a man completely sworn tome, one I trust. Or if I can find no such strong ally to give her, she's for the nunnery and the veil. She'll raise up no Cornwall party in this kingdom.\"\n\n\"She does not seem pious enough fora good nun.\"\n\nUther shrugged. \"For the dower I can give her, any convent will be glad to take her.\"\n\nAnd suddenly Viviane was angry. She fixed Uther with her gaze and said, \"And do you think you can keep this kingdom long without the goodwill of the Tribes, Uther? They care nothing for your Christ or your religion. They look to Avalon, and when these-\" She putout a finger and touched his tattooed wrists. He drew nervously away, but she went on. When these were set on your arms, they swore to obey the Pendragon. If Avalon withdraws its support from you-as high as we set you, Uther, that low can we bring you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Fine words, Lady. But can you do as you threaten?\" Uther retorted. \"Would you do that fora girl and Cornwall's daughter at that?\"\n\n\"Test me.\" Her gaze was unflinching. This time he did not lower his eyes from her; he was angry enough to meet her stare equally, and she thought, Goddess! Had I been ten years younger, how this man and I could have ruled! In all her life she had known but one or two men who were her equal in strength; but Uther was an antagonist worthy of her steel. And he would need to be, to keep this kingdom together until the predestined king should grow to manhood. Even for Morgaine she could not endanger that. But she thought she could make him see reason.\n\n\"Uther, listen tome. The girl has the Sight; she was born to it. There's noway she can escape the Unseen, it will follow her wherever she goes, and in playing about with such things, she'll come to be shunned fora witch, and despised. Is that what you want fora princess at your court?\"\n\n\"Do you doubt Igraine's ability to rear her daughter as befits a Christian woman? At worst, she could do no harm behind convent walls-\"\n\n\"No!\" Viviane said, so loudly that some of the folk in the lower hall raised their heads and stared round at her. \"Uther, the girl's priestess-born. Put her behind convent walls and she'll pine like a caged skua gull. Could you send Igraine's child to death or lifelong misery? I truly believe-and I've spoken with the girl-that she'd kill herself there.\"\n\nShe could see that argument had reached him, and quickly pressed her point.\n\n\"She's born to it. Let her be properly trained to her gifts. Uther, is she so happy here, or such an ornament to your court, that you would be sorry to see her leave it?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Slowly, he shook his head. \"I have tried to love her for Igraine's sake. But she's-uncanny,\" he said. \"Morgause used to tease her and say she was one of the fairy folk, and if I did not know her parentage I'd well believe it.\"\n\nViviane's smile was taut. \"True. She is like me, and like our mother. She's not for the convent or the church bell.\"\n\n\"Yet how can I take both Igraine's children from her at once?\" Uther demanded, despairing. That struck Viviane as well with a pang of grief, almost of guilt, but she shook her head.\n\n\"Igraine too is priestess-born. She will abide her destiny as you, Uther, abide yours. And if you fear the anger of your house priest,\" she added, striking shrewdly at a guess and saw, in his eyes, that she had hit home, \"then tell no one where you have sent her. Put it about, if you wish, that you have sent her for schooling in a nunnery. She is too wise and sober for the ways of the court, small flirtations and womanish gossip. And Igraine, if she knows her children are safe and happy, growing toward their own fates, will be content while she has you.\"\n\nUther bowed his head. \"So be it,\" he said. \"The boy to be fostered with my trustiest and most obscure vassal-but how can I send him there unknown? Will the danger not follow him?\"\n\n\"He can be sent by hidden ways, and under a glamour, as you yourself came to Tintagel,\" Viviane said. \"You trust me not, but will you trust the Merlin?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"With my very life,\" Uther said. \"Let the Merlin take him. And Morgaine, then, to Avalon.\" He leaned his head in his hands, as if the burden he bore were too great for endurance. \"You are wise,\" he said, then raised his head and stared at her with unflinching hatred. \"I wish you were a foolish woman I could despise, damn you!\"\n\n\"If your priests are right,\" said Viviane calmly, \"I am already thoroughly damned and you may save your breath.\"\n\nThe sun was setting as they came to the Lake. Viviane twisted on her pony to look at Morgaine, who rode a little behind her. The girl's face was drawn with weariness and hunger, but she had not complained, and Viviane, who had deliberately set a hard pace to try her stamina, was satisfied. The life of a priestess of Avalon was not an easy one, and she needed to know that Morgaine could endure fatigue and hardship. She slowed her pony now, and let Morgaine draw abreast of her.\n\n\"There lies the Lake,\" she said. \"Ina little while we will be within walls, and there will be fire, and food and drink.\"\n\n\"I shall be glad of all three,\" Morgaine said. Are you tired, Morgaine?\"\n\n\"A little,\" the girl said diffidently, \"but I am sorry to see this journey end, I like seeing new things, and I have never gone anywhere before.\"\n\nThey halted their horses at the water's edge, and Viviane tried to seethe familiar shore as it would appear to a stranger-the dull greyed waters of the Lake, the tall reeds edging the shore, silent, low-hanging clouds, and tufts of weed in the water. It was a silent scene, and Viviane could hear the girl's thoughts: It is lonely here, and dark, and dismal." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How do we get to Avalon? There is no bridge-surely we do not have to swim the horses?\" Morgaine asked her, and Viviane, remembering how they had had to do just that at a ford swollen by spring rains, reassured her quickly.\n\n\"No; I will call the boat.\"\n\nShe raised her two hands to cover her face, shutout unwanted sight and sound, and sent out the silent call. Within moments, over the greying surface of the Lake, a low barge appeared. Draped atone end in black and silver, it glided so silently that it seemed to skim over the water like some waterfowl-there was no sound of oars, but as it came nearer they could seethe silent oarsmen, wielding their paddles without the slightest splash or sound. They were dark little men, half naked, their skins tattooed with blue woad in magical patterns, and Viviane saw Morgaine's eyes widen at the sight; but she said nothing.\n\nShe accepts all this too calmly, Viviane thought. She is young enough that she does not seethe mystery of what we do; somehow I must make her aware of it.\n\nThe silent little men moored the boat, securing it with a curiously woven rope of plaited reed. Viviane signalled to the girl to dismount, and the horses were led onboard. One of the tattooed men held out his hand to Morgaine to help her step onboard, she half expected it to be insubstantial, a vision like the boat, but instead his hand felt callused, hard as horn. Last, Viviane took her place at the prow, and the barge moved out, slowly and silently, into the Lake.\n\nAhead of them rose the Isle and the Tor with its tall tower to Saint Michael; over the silent water, the sound of church bells rang a soft Angelus. Morgaine, from habit, crossed herself, and one of the little men gave her so sharp a frown that she flinched and dropped her hand. As the boat skimmed over the water through the overgrown reeds she could make out the walls of the church and the monastery. Viviane could sense the young girl's sudden fear-were they going, after all, to the Isle of the Priests, where convent walls would close about her forever?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Are we going to the Island church, Aunt?\"\n\n\"We will not come to the church,\" Viviane replied tranquilly, \"though it is true that an ordinary traveller, or you yourself, if you set out upon the Lake alone, would never come to Avalon. Wait and see, and ask no questions; that is to be your lot while you are in training.\"\n\nRebuked, Morgaine fell silent. Her eyes were still dilated with fear. She said in a low voice, \"It is like the folktale of the fairy barge, which sets sail from the islands to the Land of Youth....\"\n\nViviane paid no attention. She stood in the prow of the boat, breathing deeply, summoning her strength for the magical act she was about to perform; fora moment she wondered if she still had the strength for it.\n\nI am old, she thought with momentary panic, yet I must live until Morgaine and her brother are grown. The peace of all this land depends on what I can do to safeguard them!\n\nShe cutoff the thought; doubt was fatal. She reminded herself that she had done this almost everyday of her adult life and by now it was so natural to her that she could have done it in her sleep or if she were dying. She stood still, rigid, locked into the tension of magic, then stretched out her arms, extending them full length, raising them high above her head, palms toward the sky. Then, with a swiftly exhaled breath, she brought them down-and with them fell the mists, so that the sight of the church was wiped out, and the shores of the Isle of the Priests, and even the Tor. The boat glided through thick, impenetrable fog, dark as night around them, and in the darkness she could hear Morgaine, breathing quickly like a small, scared animal. She began to speak-to reassure the girl that there was nothing to fear-then, deliberately, held her peace. Morgaine was now a priestess in training and must learn to conquer fear as she conquered fatigue and hardship and hunger." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The boat began to glide through the mists. Swiftly and surely-for there were no other boats on this Lake-the boat poled through the thick, clinging damp; Viviane felt it on her hair and eyebrows, soaking through her woolen shawl. Morgaine was shivering with the sudden cold.\n\nThen, like a curtain being pulled back, the mist vanished, and before them lay a sunlit stretch of water and a green shore. The Tor was there, but Viviane heard the young girl in the boat catch her breath in shock and astonishment. Atop the Tor stood a circle of standing stones, brilliant in the sunlight. Toward it led the great processional way, winding upward in a spiral around the immense hill. At the foot of the Tor lay the buildings where the priests were housed, and on the slope she could seethe Sacred Welland the silver flash of the mirror pool below. Along the shore were groves of apple trees and beyond them great oaks, with the golden shoots of mistletoe clinging to their branches in midair.\n\nMorgaine whispered, \"It is beautiful...\" and Viviane could hear the awe in her voice. \"Lady, is it real?\"\n\n\"It is more real than any other place you have ever seen,\" Viviane told her, \"and soon you will know it.\"\n\nThe barge moved toward the shore and scraped heavily on the sandy edge; the silent oarsmen moored it with a rope, and assisted the Lady to step onshore. Then they led the horses to land, and Morgaine was left to step onshore by herself.\n\nShe was never to forget that first sight of Avalon in the sunset. Green lawns sloped down to the edge of the reeds along the Lake, and swans glided, silent as the barge, over the waters. Beneath the groves of oak and apple trees rose a low building of grey stone, and Morgaine could see white-robed forms pacing slowly along the colonnaded walk. From somewhere, very softly, she could hear the sound of a harp. The low, slanting light-could it be the same sun she knew?-flooded the land with gold and silence, and she felt her throat tighten with tears. She thought, without knowing why, I am coming home, even though all the years of her life had been spent at Tintagel and at Caerleon and she had never seen this fair country before. Viviane finished giving directions about the horses, and turned to Morgaine again. She saw the look of wonder and awe on the girl's face, and forbore to speak until Morgaine drew a shaking breath, as if waking from sleep. Women, robed in dark-dyed dresses with overtunics of deerskin, some of them with a crescent moon tattooed in blue between their brows, came down the path toward them; some were like Morgaine and Viviane herself, small and dark, of the Pictish people, but a few were tall and slender, with fair or reddish-brown hair, and there were two or three who bore the unmistakable stamp of Roman ancestry. They bent before Viviane in silent respect and she raised her hand in a gesture of benediction." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"This is my kinswoman,\" Viviane said. \"Her name is Morgaine. She will be one of you. Take her-\" Then she looked at the young girl, who stood shivering as the sun sank and darkness dropped grey, draining the fantastic colors from the landscape. The child was weary and frightened. There were enough trials and ordeals before her; she need not begin them at this moment.\n\n\"Tomorrow,\" she said to Morgaine, \"you will go to the House of Maidens. It will make no difference there that you are my kinswoman and a princess, you will have no name and no favors except what you can earn for yourself. But for tonight only, come with me; we have had little time to talk together on this journey.\"\n\nMorgaine felt her knees wobbling with the sudden relief. The women facing her, all strange and with their alien dress and the blue markings on their brows, frightened her more than the whole court of Uther assembled. She saw Viviane make a little dismissing motion, and the priestesses-for so she supposed they were-turned and went away. Viviane held out her hand, and Morgaine took it, feeling the fingers reassuringly cool and solid. Once again Viviane was the kinswoman she knew, yet at the same time she was the awesome figure who had brought down the mists. Once again Morgaine felt the impulse to make the sign of the cross, and wondered if all this country would vanish away as Father Columba said all demonwork and sorceries must vanish at that sign.\n\nBut she did not cross herself; she knew suddenly that she would never do so again. That world lay behind her forever.\n\nAt the edge of the apple grove, between two trees just coming into blossom, stood a little house of wattle and daub. Inside, afire was burning, and a young woman-like the others she had seen, in dark dress and deerskin tunic-welcomed them with a silent bow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Do not speak to her,\" said Viviane. \"She is, at present, under avow of silence. She is a priestess in her fourth year, and her name is Raven.\"\n\nIn silence, Raven stripped off Viviane's outer garments and her muddy and travel-worn shoes; at a sign from Viviane she did the same for Morgaine. She brought them water for washing, and later, food: barley bread and dried meat. For drink there was only cold water, but it was fresh and delicious, unlike any water Morgaine had ever tasted.\n\n\"It is the water of the Sacred Well,\" Viviane said. \"We drink nothing else here; it brings vision and clear sight. And the honey is from our own hives. Eat your meat and enjoy it, for you will taste no more for years; the priestesses eat no meat until they have finished their training.\"\n\n\"Why is that, Lady?\" Morgaine could not say'Aunt\" or'kinswoman.\" Standing between her and the familiar names was the memory of the Goddess-like figure summoning the mists. \"Is it wrong to eat meat?\"\n\n\"Surely not and a day will come when you may eat whatever food conies to you. But a diet free of animal flesh produces a high level of consciousness, and this you must have while you are learning to use the Sight and to control your magical powers rather than letting them control you. Like the Druids in the early years of their training, the priestesses eat only bread and fruit, and sometimes a little fish from the lake, and drink only water from the Well.\"\n\nMorgaine said shyly, \"You drank wine at Caerleon, Lady.\"\n\n\"Certainly, and so may you, when you know the proper times to eat and drink, and the proper times to abstain,\" said Viviane curtly. That silenced Morgaine, and she sat nibbling at her bread and honey. But although she was hungry, it seemed to stick in her throat." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Have you had enough to eat?\" Viviane asked. \"Good, then let Raven take the dishes-you should sleep, child. But sit here beside me before the fire and talk a little, for tomorrow Raven will take you to the House of Maidens, and you will see me no more, save at the rites, until you are trained to take your turn with the older priestesses, to sleep in my house and care for meas a serving-woman. And at that time you too may well be under avow of silence, neither to speak nor answer. But for tonight, you are only my kinswoman, not yet vowed to the service of the Goddess, and you may ask me whatever you will.\"\n\nShe held out her hand, and Morgaine came to join heron the bench before the fire. Viviane turned and said, \"Will you take the pin from my hair, Morgaine? Raven has gone to her rest, and I do not want to disturb her again.\"\n\nMorgaine pulled the carven pin of bone from the older woman's hair, and it came down with a rush, long and dark with a streak of white atone temple. Viviane sighed, stretching her bare feet to the fire.\n\n\"It is good to be home again-I have had to travel overmuch in late years,\" she said, \"and I am no longer strong enough to find it a pleasure.\"\n\n\"You said I might ask you questions,\" Morgaine said timidly. \"Why do some of the women have blue signs on their brows, and others not?\"\n\n\"The blue crescent is a sign that they are vowed to the service of the Goddess, to live and die at her will,\" Viviane said. \"Those who are here only for some schooling in the Sight do not take such vows.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Am Ito take vows?\"\n\n\"That will be your own choice,\" Viviane said. \"The Goddess will tell you whether she wishes to set her hand upon you. Only the Christians use the cloister as a kitchen midden for their unwanted daughters and widows.\"\n\n\"But how will I know if the Goddess wants me?\"\n\nViviane smiled in the darkness. \"She will call you in a voice you cannot fail to understand. If you have heard that call, there will be nowhere in the world to hide from her voice.\"\n\nMorgaine wondered, but was too timid to ask, if Viviane had been vowed so. Of course! She is the High Priestess, the Lady of Avalon....\n\n\"I was so vowed,\" Viviane said quietly, with the trick she had of answering an unspoken question, \"but the mark has worn away with time... if you look closely, I think you can still see a little of it at the edge of my hair, there.\"\n\n\"Yes, a little... what does it mean to be vowed to the Goddess, Lady? Who is this Goddess? I asked Father Columba once if God had any other name, and he said, no, there was only one Name by which we could be saved and that was Jesus the Christ, but-\" She broke off, abashed. \"I am very ignorant about such things.\"\n\n\"To know you are ignorant is the beginning of wisdom,\" Viviane said. \"Then, when you begin to learn, you will not have to forget all the things you think you know. God is called by many names, but is everywhere One; and so, when you pray to Mary, mother of Jesus, you pray, without knowing it, to the World Mother in one of her many forms. The God of the priests and the Great One of the Druids is the same One, and that is why the Merlin sometimes takes his place among the Christian councillors of the High King; he knows, if they do not, that God is One.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Your mother was priestess here before you, my mother said-\"\n\n\"That is true, but it was not a matter of blood alone. Rather that I had inherited her gift of the Sight, and vowed myself to the Goddess of my freewill. The Goddess did not call your mother, nor Morgause. So I sent Igraine to be married to your father and then to Uther, and Morgause to be married as the King should decree. Igraine's marriage served the Goddess; over Morgause, she had no power and no call.\"\n\n\"Are the priestesses called by the Goddess never married then?\"\n\n\"Usually not. They do not vow themselves to any man, except for the Great Marriage, where priest and priestess join in symbol of God and Goddess, and children so born are children to no mortal man, but to the Goddess. This is a Mystery, and you will learn it at the proper time. I was so born, and have no earthly father....\"\n\nMorgaine stared at her and whispered, \"Do you mean that-that your mother lay with a God?\"\n\n\"No, of course not. Only a priest, overshadowed by the power of the God; probably a priest whose name she never knew, because at that moment or in that time, the God came into him and possessed him so that the man was forgotten and unknown.\" Her face was distant, remembering strange things; Morgaine could see them moving across her brow. It seemed that the fire made pictures in the room, a great figure of a Horned One.... She shivered suddenly and pulled her cloak about her.\n\n\"Are you weary, child? You should sleep-\"\n\nBut Morgaine was curious again. \"Were you born in Avalon?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes, though I was fostered on the Druid Isle, far to the north, in the Islands. And when I was grown to womanhood, the Goddess set her hand upon me-the blood of the priestess-born ran true in me, as I think it does in you, my child.\" Her voice was distant; she rose and stood looking into the fire.\n\n\"I am trying to remember how many years ago it was that I came herewith the old woman... the moon was farther south then, for it was harvesttime, and the dark days of Samhain coming on, in the dying of the year. It was a bitter winter, even at Avalon; we heard wolves in the night, and snow lay deep, and we hungered here, for no one could make the passage through the storms, and some of the little children at the breast died when milk failed.... Then the Lake froze, and they brought us food on sledges. I was a maiden then, my breasts had not grown, and now I am old, an old woman, a crone... so many years, child.\"\n\nMorgaine could feel the older woman's hand trembling; she held it hard in her own. After a moment Viviane drew the girl to her side and stood, her arm around her waist.\n\n\"So many moons, so many Midsummers... and now it seems that Samhain follows hard upon Beltane-eve more swiftly than the moon waxed from maiden to full when I was young. And you too will stand here before the fire, and grow old as I have grown old, unless the Mother has other tasks for you... ah, Morgaine, Morgaine, little one, I should have left you in Your mother's house....\"\n\nMorgaine flung her arms fiercely around the priestess. \"I could not stay there! I would rather have died....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I knew that,\" Viviane said, sighing. \"I think the Mother has laid her hand on you too, child. But you have come from a life of ease into a hard life and a bitter one, Morgaine, and it maybe that I will have tasks for you as cruel as those the Great Mother has laid on me. Now you think only of learning to use the Sight, and of living in the beautiful land of Avalon, but it is no easy thing to serve the will of Ceridwen, my daughter; she is not only the Great Mother of Love and Birth, she is also the Lady of Darkness and Death.\" Sighing, she stroked the girl's soft hair. \"She is also the Morrigan, the messenger of strife, the Great Raven... oh, Morgaine, Morgaine, I would you had been my own child, but even so I could not spare you, I must use you for her purposes as I was myself used.\" She bowed her head, laid it fora moment on the young girl's shoulder. \"Believe that I love you, Morgaine, fora time will come when you will hate meas much as you love me now-\"\n\nMorgaine fell impulsively to her knees. \"Never,\" she whispered. \"I am in the hands of the Goddess... and in yours...\"\n\n\"May she grant that you never regret those words,\" Viviane said. She stretched out her hands to the fire. They were small, and strong, and a little swollen with age. \"With these hands I have brought children to birth; and I have seen a man's lifeblood flow from them. Once I betrayed a man to his death, a man who had lain in my arms and I had sworn to love. I destroyed your mother's peace, and now I have taken her children from her. Do you not hate me and fear me, Morgaine?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I fear you,\" said the girl, still kneeling at her feet, her dark, intense, small face glowing with firelight, \"but I could never hate you.\"\n\nViviane sighed deeply, thrusting away foresight and dread. \"And it is not me you fear,\" she said, \"but her. We are both in her hands, child. Your virginity is sacred to the Goddess. See you keep it so till the Mother makes her will known.\"\n\nMorgaine laid her small hands over Viviane's. \"Be it so,\" she whispered. \"I swear it.\"\n\nThe next day she went to the House of the Maidens, and there she remained for many years.\n\nMORGAINE SPEAKS...\n\nHow do you write of the making of a priestess? What is not obvious is secret. Those who have walked that road will know, and those who have not will never know though I should write down all the forbidden things. Seven times Beltane-eve came and went; seven times the winters shrivelled us all with cold. The Sight came easily; Viviane had said I was priestess-born. It was not so easy to bid it come when I willed and only when I willed, and to close the gates of the Sight when it was not fitting I should see.\n\nIt was the small magics which came hardest, forcing the mind first to walk in unaccustomed paths. To call the fire and raise it at command, to call the mists, to bring rain-all these were simple, but to know when to bring rain or mist and when to leave it in the hands of the Gods, that was not so simple. Other lessons there were, at which my knowledge of the Sight helped me not at all: the herb lore, and the lore of healing, the long songs of which not a single word might ever be committed to writing, for how can the knowledge of the Great Ones be committed to anything made by human hands? Some of the lessons were pure joy, for I was allowed to learn to play upon the harp and to fashion my own, using sacred woods and the gut of an animal killed in ritual; and some lessons were of terror." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Hardest of all, perhaps, to look within myself, under the spell of the drugs which loosed the mind from the body, sick and retching, while the mind soared free past the limits of time and space, and to read in the pages of the past and the future." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But of that I may say nothing. At last, the day when I was cast out of Avalon, clad only in my shift, and unarmed save for the little dagger of a priestess, to return-if I could. I knew that if I did not, they would mourn meas one dead, but the gates would never again be opened tome unless I could bid them open at my own will and command. And when the mists closed around me, I wandered long on the shores of the alien Lake, hearing only the bells and the doleful chanting of the monks. And at last I broke through the mists, and called upon her, my feet upon the earth and my head among the stars, stretching from horizon to horizon, and cried aloud the great word of Power....\n\nAnd the mists parted and I saw before me the same sunlit shore where the Lady had brought me seven years before, and I set my feet on the solid earth of my own home, and I wept as I had done when first I came there as a frightened child. And then the mark of the crescent moon was set between my brows by the hand of the Goddess herself... but this is a Mystery of which it is forbidden to write. Those who have felt their brow burned with the kiss ofCeridwen will know whereof I speak.\n\nIt was in the second spring after that, when I had been released from the silence, that Galahad, who was already skilled at fighting the Saxons under his own father, King Ban of Less Britain, returned to Avalon.\n\nThe priestesses above a certain grade took it in turns to serve the Lady of the Lake, and at this season when the Lady was very busy with preparations for the approaching Midsummer festival, one of them always slept in the little wattled house, so that the Lady might have someone at her call night and day. It was so early that the sun still hid in the mist at the edge of the horizon when Viviane stepped into the room beyond her own, where her attendant slept, and beckoned quietly to awaken her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The woman sat up in bed, flinging her deerskin tunic over her under-gown.\n\n\"Tell the bargemen to be ready. And go and ask my kinswoman Morgaine to attend upon me.\"\n\nA few minutes later, Morgaine paused respectfully before the entrance where Viviane was kneeling to buildup her fire. She made no sound; after nine years of training in the priestess arts, she moved so silently that no footfall or even a breath of air marked her passing. But after those years, too, the ways of the priestesses were so well known to her that she was not surprised when Viviane turned as she reached the door, and said, \"Come in, Morgaine.\"\n\nRather contrary to her usual custom, however, Viviane did not invite her kinswoman to sit, but kept her standing there, regarding her evenly fora moment.\n\nMorgaine was not tall; she would never be that, and in these years in Avalon she had grown as tall as she would ever be, a scant inch taller than the Lady. Her dark hair was plaited down the back of her neck and wrapped with a deerskin thong; she wore the dark-dyed blue dress and deerskin overtunic of any priestess, and the blue crescent shone darkly between her brows. Nevertheless, smooth and anonymous as she was among them, there was a glint in her eyes which answered to Viviane's cool stare, and Viviane knew from experience that, small and delicately made as she was, when she wished she could throw& glamour over herself that made her appear not only tall but majestic. Already she appeared ageless, and she would, Viviane knew, look much the same even when white appeared in her dark hair.\n\nShe thought, with a flicker of relief, No, she is not beautiful, then wondered why it should matter to her. No doubt Morgaine, like all young women, even a priestess vowed lifelong to the service of the Goddess, would prefer to be beautiful, and was intensely unhappy because she was not. She thought, with a slight curl of her lip, When you are my age, my girl, it will not matter whether or no you are beautiful, for everyone you know will believe that you area great beauty whenever you wish them to believe it; and when you do not, you can sit back and pretend to be a simple old woman long past such thoughts. She had fought her own battle more than twenty years ago, when she saw Igraine growing to womanhood with the tawny and russet beauty for which Viviane, still young, would gladly have bartered her soul and all her power. Sometimes, in moments of self-doubt, she wondered if she had thrust Igraine into marriage with Gorlois so that she need not be endlessly taunted with the younger woman's loveliness, mocking her own dark severity. But I brought her to the love of the man destined for her before the ring stones of Salisbury plain were piled one upon another, she thought." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She realized that Morgaine was still standing quietly, awaiting her word, and smiled.\n\n\"Truly I grow old,\" she said. \"I was lost, fora moment, in memories. You are not the child who came here many years ago; but there are times when I forget it, my Morgaine.\"\n\nMorgaine smiled and the smile transformed her face, which in repose was rather sullen. Like Morgause, Viviane thought, though otherwise they are nothing alike. It is Taliesin's blood.\n\nMorgaine said, \"I think you forget nothing, kinswoman.\"\n\n\"Perhaps not. Have you broken your fast, child?\"\n\n\"No. But I am not hungry.\"\n\n\"Very well. I want you to go in the barge.\"\n\nMorgaine, who had grown used to silence, answered only with a gesture of respect and assent.\n\nIt was not, of course, a request unusual in anyway-the barge from Avalon must always* be guided by a priestess who knew the secret way through the mists.\n\n\"It is a family mission,\" Viviane said, \"for it is my son who is approaching the island, and I thought it well to send a kinswoman to welcome him here.\"\n\nMorgaine smiled. \"Balan?\" she said. \"Will his foster-brother Balin not fear for his soul if he goes beyond the sound of church bells?\"\n\nA glint of humor lighted Viviane's eyes, and she said, \"Both of them are proud men and dedicated warriors, and they live blameless lives, even by the standards of the Druids, harming none and oppressing none, and ever seeking to right a wrong when they find it. I doubt not that the Saxons find them four times as fearsome when they fight side by side. In fact, they are afraid of nothing, except the evil magic of that wicked sorceress who is mother to one of them...\" and she giggled like a young woman, and Morgaine giggled with her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then, sobering, she said, \"Well, I do not regret sending Balan to fosterage in the outer world. He had no call to become a Druid, and he would have made a very bad one, and if he is lost to the Goddess, no doubt she will watch over him in her own way, even if he prays to her with beads and calls upon her as Mary the Virgin. No, Balan is away on the coast, fighting against the Saxons at Uther's side, and I am content to have it so. It is of my younger son I spoke.\"\n\n\"I thought Galahad still in Brittany.\"\n\n\"So did I, but last night with the Sight I saw him... he is here. When last I saw him, he was but twelve years old. He is grown considerably, I should say; he must now be sixteen or more, and ready for his arms, but I do not know for certain that he is to bear arms at all.\"\n\nMorgaine smiled, and Viviane remembered that when Morgaine had first come here, a lonely child, she had sometimes been allowed to spend her free time with the only other child fostered here, Galahad.\n\n\"Ban of Benwick must be old now,\" Morgaine remarked.\n\n\"Old, yes; and he has many sons, so that my son, among them, is just one more of the king's unregarded bastards. But his half-brothers fear him and would rather he went elsewhere, and a child of the Great Marriage cannot be treated like any other bastard.\" Viviane answered the unspoken question. \"His father would give him land and estates in Brittany, but I saw to it before he was six years old that Galahad's heart would always be here, at the Lake.\" She saw the glint in Morgaine's eyes and answered, again, the unspoken." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Cruel, to make him ever discontent? Perhaps. It was not I that was cruel, but the Goddess. His destiny lies in Avalon, and I have seen him with the Sight, kneeling before the Holy Chalice....\"\n\nAgain, with an ironic inflection, Morgaine made the little gesture of assent with which a priestess under vows of silence would have acquiesced to a command.\n\nSuddenly Viviane was angry with herself. I sit here justifying what I have done with my life, and the lives of my sons, to a chit of a girl! I owe her no explanations! She said, and her voice was chilled with sudden distance, \"Go with the barge, Morgaine, and bring him tome.\"\n\nA third time the silent gesture of assent and Morgaine turned to go.\n\n\"One moment,\" Viviane said. \"You will break your fast herewith us when you bring him back tome; he is your cousin and kinsman too.\"\n\nWhen Morgaine smiled again, Viviane realized that she had been trying to make the girl smile, and was surprised at herself.\n\nMORGAINE WENT down along the path toward the edge of the Lake. Her heart was still beating faster than usual; often, these days, when she spoke with the Lady, anger was mixed with affection, to neither of which she was allowed to give voice, and this did strange things to her mind. She wondered at herself, because she had been taught to control her emotions as she controlled her words and even her thoughts.\n\nGalahad she remembered from her first years in Avalon-a scrawny, dark, intense boy. She had not liked him much, but because her heart hungered for her own small brother, she had let the lonely boy runabout after her. Then he had been sent away to fosterage and she had seen him only once since, when he was twelve years old, all eyes and teeth and bones thrusting through outgrown clothes. He had grown into an intense disdain of anything female, and she had been occupied with the most difficult part of her training, so she had paid him little heed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The small, dark men who poled the barge bent before her in silent respect to the Goddess whose form the higher priestesses were supposed to wear, and she signed to them without speaking and took her place in the prow.\n\nSwiftly and silently the draped barge glided out into the mist. Morgaine felt the dampness coalescing on her brow and clinging to her hair; she was hungry, and chilled to the bone, but she had been taught to ignore that too. When they came out of the mist, the sun had risen on the far shore, and she could see a horse and rider waiting there. The barge continued its slow strokes forward, but Morgaine, in a rare moment of self-forgetfulness, stood unguarded, looking at the horseman there.\n\nHe was slightly built, his face aquiline and darkly handsome, set off by the crimson cap with an eagle feather in its band and the wide crimson cloak that fell gracefully around him. When he dismounted, the natural grace with which he moved, a dancer's grace, took her breath away. Had she ever wished to be fair and rounded, when dark and slender could show this beauty? His eyes were dark too, glinting with a touch of mischief-mischief which alone gave Morgaine awareness of who this must be, although, otherwise, not a single feature remained of the scrawny boy with the bony legs and enormous feet.\n\n\"Galahad,\" she said, pitching her voice low to keep it from trembling-a priestess-trick. \"I would not have recognized you.\"\n\nHe bowed smoothly, the cape swirling as he moved-had she ever despised that as an acrobat's trick? Here it seemed to grow from his body.\n\n\"Lady,\" he said." }, { "from": "human", "value": "He has not recognized me either." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Keep it so.\n\nWhy at this moment did she remember Viviane's words? Your virginity is sacred to the Goddess. See you keep it so till the Mother makes her will known. Startled, Morgaine recognized that for the first time in her life, she had looked on a man with desire. Knowing that such things were not for her, but that she was to use her life as the Goddess should decree, she had looked on men with scorn as the natural prey of the Goddess in the form of her priestesses, to betaken or denied as seemed right at the moment. Viviane had commanded that this year she need not take part in the Beltane fire rituals, from which some of her fellow priestesses emerged with child by the will of the Goddess, children who were either born, or cast forth by the knowledge of herb lore and drugs she had been taught-an unpleasant process, which if not followed inevitably brought on the even more unpleasant and dangerous process of birth, and tiresome children who were reared or sent to fosterage as the Lady decreed. Morgaine had been glad enough to escape this time, knowing that Viviane had other plans for her.\n\nShe gestured him to step onboard. Never lay hands upon an outsider-the words of the old priestess who had schooled her; a priestess of Avalon must be even as a visitor from the otherworld. She wondered why she had to stop her hand from reaching out to touch his wrist. She knew, with a sureness that made the blood beat hard in her temples, that under the smooth skin would lie hard muscle, pulsing with life, and she hungered to meet his eyes again. She turned away, trying to master herself.\n\nHis voice was deep and musical as he said, \"Why, now you move your hands, I know you-everything else about you has changed. Priestess, were you not once my kinswoman, called Morgaine?\" The dark eyes glinted. \"Nothing else is the same as when I used to call you Morgaine of the Fairies....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I was, and I am. But years have passed,\" she said, turning away, gesturing to the silent servants of the barge to pole it away from the shore.\n\n\"But the magic of Avalon never changes,\" he murmured, and she knew he was not speaking to her. \"The mist and the reeds and the cry of waterbirds... and then the barge, like magic, gliding from the silent shore... I know there is nothing for me here, and yet, somehow, I always return....\"\n\nThe barge moved silently across the Lake. Even now, after years of knowing that it was no magic, but intensive training in silencing the oars, Morgaine was still impressed by the mystical silence through which they moved. She turned to call the mists, and was conscious of the young man behind her. He stood, easily balanced beside his horse, one arm flung across the saddle blanket, shifting his weight easily without motion, so that he did not visibly sway or lose balance as the boat moved and turned. Morgaine did this herself from long training, but he managed it, it seemed, by his own natural grace.\n\nIt seemed that she could feel his dark eyes like a palpable warmth on her back as she stepped to the prow and raised her arms, the long sleeves trailing. She drew a deep breath, charging herself for the magical act, knowing she must concentrate all her strength, intensely angry at herself for her own awareness of the man's eyes on her.\n\nLet him see, then! Let him fear me and know meas the Goddess-self! She knew some rebel part of herself, long stifled, was crying out, No, I want him to seethe woman, not the Goddess, not even the priestess, but another deep breath and even the memory of that wish was exhaled." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Up went her arms into the arch of the sky; down, with the mists following the sweep of her trailing sleeves. Mist and silence hung dark around them. Morgaine stood motionless, feeling the young man's body warmth very close to her. If she moved even a little, she would touch his hand, and knew how his hand would feel, scalding against her own. She moved away with a little swirling of her robes, and collected distance about herself as with a veil. And all the time she was astonished at herself, saying within her mind somewhere, this is only my cousin, it is Viviane's son who used to sit in my lap when he was little and lonely! Deliberately she summoned the picture of that awkward boy covered with bramble scratches, but when they sailed out of the mist the dark eyes were smiling at her, and she felt dizzy.\n\nOf course I am faint, I have not yet broken my fast, she told herself, and watched the hunger in Galahad's eyes as he looked on Avalon. She saw him cross himself. Viviane would be angry if she had seen that.\n\n\"It is indeed the land of the fairy folk,\" he said, low, \"and you are Morgaine of the Fairies, as always... but you area woman, now, and beautiful, kinswoman.\"\n\nShe thought, impatient, I am not beautiful, what he sees is the glamour of Avalon. And something rebellious in her said, I want him to think me beautiful-myself, not the glamour! She set her mouth tightly and knew that she looked stern, forbidding, all priestess again.\n\n\"This way,\" she said curtly and, as the barge's bottom scraped silently on the sandy edge, signalled for the bargemen to attend to his horse." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"By your leave, lady,\" he said, \"I will attend to it myself. It is not an ordinary saddle.\"\n\n\"As you like,\" Morgaine said, and stood and watched while he unsaddled his horse himself. But she was too intensely curious about everything concerning him to stand silent.\n\n\"Why, it is indeed a strange saddle... what are the long leather strappings?\"\n\n\"The Scythians wear them-they are called stirrups. My foster-father took me on pilgrimage, and I saw them in their country. Even the Roman legions had no such cavalry, for the Scythians with these can control and stop their horses in mid charge, and that way they can fight from horseback,\" he said, \"and even in the light armor the horsemen wear, an equestrian knight is invincible against anyone on foot.\" He smiled, the dark, intense face lighting up. \"The Saxons call me Alfgar-the elf-arrow which comes out of darkness and strikes unseen. At Ban's court they have taken up the name and call me Lancelet, which is as near as they can come to it. Someday I will have a legion of horses equipped this way, and then let the Saxons beware!\"\n\n\"Your mother told me you were already a warrior,\" Morgaine said, forgetting to pitch her voice low, and he smiled again at her.\n\n\"And now I know your voice, Morgaine of the Fairies... how dare you come upon meas a priestess, kinswoman? Well, I suppose it is the Lady's will. But I like you better like this than solemn as a Goddess,\" he said, with the familiar mischief, as if they had parted but the day before.\n\nClasping at shreds of her dignity, Morgaine said, \"Yes, the Lady awaits us, and we must not keep her waiting.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Oh yes,\" he mocked, \"always we must scurry to do her will.... I suppose you are one of those who hurry to fetch and carry, and hang trembling on her every word.\"\n\nFor that Morgaine found no answer except to say, \"Come this way.\"\n\n\"I remember the way,\" he said, and walked quietly at her side instead of following behind with proper respect. \"I too used to run to her and wait upon her will and tremble at her frown, until I found she was not just my mother, but thought herself greater than any queen.\"\n\n\"And so she is,\" Morgaine said sharply.\n\n\"No doubt, but I have lived in a world where men do not come and goat a woman's beckoning.\" She saw that his jaw was set and that the mischief was gone from his eyes. \"I would rather have a loving mother than astern Goddess whose every breath bids men live and die at her will.\"\n\nTo that Morgaine found nothing whatever to say. She set a swift pace that meant he must scurry at her heels to keep up.\n\nRaven, still silent-for she had bound herself by vows of perpetual silence, save when she spoke tranced as a prophetess-let them into the dwelling with an inclination of the head. As her eyes adjusted to the dimness, Morgaine saw that Viviane, seated by the fire, had chosen to greet her son not in the ordinary dark dress and deerskin tunic of a priestess, but had put on a dress of crimson and done her hair high on her forehead with gems glittering there. Even Morgaine, who knew the tricks of glamour for herself, gasped at the magnificence of Viviane. She was like the Goddess welcoming a petitioner to her underworld shrine." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Morgaine could see that Galahad's chin was set and that the cords in his knuckles stood out, white, against his dark fists." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She could hear him breathing, and guessed at the effort with which he steadied his voice, as he rose from his bow.\n\n\"My lady and mother, I give you greeting.\"\n\n\"Galahad,\" she said. \"Come, sit here beside me.\"\n\nHe took a seat across from her instead. Morgaine hovered near the door and Viviane beckoned her to come and seat herself too.\n\n\"I waited to breakfast with you both. Here, join me.\"\n\nThere was fresh-cooked fish from the Lake, scented with herbs and dripping butter; there was hot, fresh barley bread, and fresh fruit, such food as Morgaine seldom tasted in the austere dwelling of the priestesses. She, and Viviane too, ate sparingly, but Galahad helped himself to everything with the healthy hunger of a youth still growing. \"Why, you have set a meal fit fora king, Mother.\"\n\n\"How does your father, and how does Brittany?\"\n\n\"Well enough, though I have not spent much time therein the last year. He sent me on afar journey, to learn for his court about the new cavalry of the Scythian peoples. I do not think even the soldiers of Rome, such as they are, have any such horsemen now. We have herds of Iberian horses-but you are not interested in the doings of the stud farms. Now I have come to bring word to the Pendragon's court of anew massing of Saxon armies; I doubt not they will strike in full force before Midsummer. Would that I had time and enough gold to train a legion of these horsemen!\n\n\"You love horses,\" Viviane said in surprise.\n\n\"Does that surprise you, madam? With beasts you always know precisely what they think, for they cannot lie, nor pretend to be other than they are,\" he said." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The ways of nature will all be open to you,\" Viviane said, \"when you return to Avalon in the life of a Druid.\"\n\nHe said, \"Still the same old song, Lady? I thought I gave you my answer when last I saw you.\"\n\n\"Galahad,\" she said, \"you were twelve years old. That is too young to know the better part of life.\"\n\nHe moved his hand impatiently. \"No one calls me Galahad now, save you alone, and the Druid who gave me that name. In Brittany and in the field I am Lancelet.\"\n\nShe smiled and said, \"Do you think I care for what the soldiers say?\"\n\n\"So you would bid me sit still in Avalon and play the harp while outside in the real world the struggle goes on for life and death, my lady?\"\n\nViviane looked angry. \"Are you trying to say this world is not real, my son?\"\n\n\"It is real,\" said Lancelet, with an impatient movement of his hand, \"but real in a different way, cutoff from the struggle outside. Fairyland, eternal peace-oh, yes, it is home tome, you saw to that, Lady. But it seems that even the sun shines differently here. And this is not where the real struggles of life are taking place. Even the Merlin has the wit to know that.\"\n\n\"The Merlin came to be as he is through years when he learned to know the real from the unreal,\" said Viviane, \"and so must you. There are warriors enough in the world, my son. Yours is the task to see farther than any, and perhaps to bid the warriors come and go.\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"No! Lady, say no more, that path is not mine.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You are still not grown to know what you want,\" Viviane said flatly. \"Will you give us seven years, as you gave your father, to know whether this is your road in life?\"\n\n\"In seven years,\" said Lancelet, smiling, \"I hope to seethe Saxons driven from our shores, and I hope to have a hand in their driving. I have no time for the magics and mysteries of the Druids, Lady, and would not if I could. No, my mother, I beg you to give me your blessing and send me forth from Avalon, for to tell the truth, Lady, I will go with your blessing or without it. I have lived in a world where men do not wait fora woman's bidding to go and come.\"\n\nMorgaine shrank away as she saw the white of rage sweep over Viviane's face. The priestess rose from her seat, a small woman but given height and majesty by her fury.\n\n\"You defy the Lady of Avalon, Galahad of the Lake?\"\n\nHe did not shrink before her. Morgaine, seeing him pale under the dark tanning of his skin, knew that inside the softness and grace was steel to match the Lady's own. He said quietly, \"Had you bidden me this when I still starved for your love and approval, madam, no doubt I would have done even as you commanded. But I am not a child, my lady and mother, and the sooner we acknowledge that, then the sooner we shall be in harmony and cease from quarrelling. The life of a Druid is not for me.\"\n\n\"Have you become a Christian?\" she asked, hissing with anger.\n\nHe sighed and shook his head. \"Not really. Even that comfort is denied me, though in Ban's court I could pass as one when I wished. I think I have no faith in any God but this.\" He laid his hand on his sword." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Lady sank down on her bench and sighed. She drew along breath and then smiled.\n\n\"So,\" she said, \"you area man and there is no compelling you. Although I wish you would speak of this to the Merlin.\"\n\nMorgaine, watching unregarded, saw the tension relax in the young man's hands. She thought, He thinks she has given way; he does not know her well enough to know that she is angrier than ever. Lancelet was young enough to let the relief show in his voice. \"I'm grateful to you for understanding, madam. And I will willingly seek counsel of the Merlin, if it pleases you. But even the Christian priests know that avocation to the service of God is God's gift and not anything that comes because one wants it or does not. God, or the Gods if you will, has not called me, or even given meany proof that He-or They-exist.\"\n\nMorgaine thought of Viviane's words to her, many years ago: it is too heavy a burden to be borne unconsenting. But for the first time she wondered, What would Viviane really have done if at anytime during these years I had come to her and told her that I wished to depart? The Lady is all too sure that she knows the will of the Goddess. Such heretical thoughts disturbed her, and quickly she thrust them from her mind, resting her eyes again on Lancelet. At first she had only been dazzled by his dark handsomeness, the grace of his body. Now she saw specific things: the first down of beard along his chin-he had not time, or had not chosen, to shave his face in the Roman fashion; his slender hands, exquisitely shaped, fashioned for harp strings or weapons, but callused just a little across palm and the insides of the fingers, more on the right hand than the left. There was a small scar on one forearm, a whitish seam that looked as if it had been therefor many years, and another, crescent-shaped, on the left cheek. His lashes were as long as a girl's. But he did not have the androgynous, boy-girl look of many boys before their beards have grown; he was like a young stag. Morgaine thought she had never seen so masculine a creature before. Because her mind had been trained to such thoughts, she thought, There is nothing of the softness of a woman's training in him, to make him pliable to any woman. He has denied the touch of the Goddess in himself; one day he will have trouble with her.... And again her mind leaped, thinking that one day she would play the role of the Goddess atone of the great festivals, and she thought, feeling a pleasant heat in her body, Would that he might be the God.... Lost in her daydream, she did not hear what Lancelet and the Lady were saying until she was recalled by hearing Viviane speak her name, and she came back to herself as if she had been wandering somewhere out of the world." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Morgaine?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "the Lady repeated. \"My son has been long away from Avalon. Take him away, spend the day on the shores if you will, you are freed for this day from duties. When you were children both, I remember, you liked it well, to walk on the shores of the Lake. Tonight, Galahad, you shall sup with the Merlin, and shall be housed among the young priests who are not under the silence. And tomorrow, if you still wish for it, you shall go with my blessing.\"\n\nHe bowed profoundly, and they went out.\n\nThe sun was high, and Morgaine realized that she had missed the sunrise salutations; well, she had the Lady's permission to absent herself, and in any case she was no longer one of the younger priestesses for whom the missing of such a service was a matter for penances and guilt. Today she had intended to supervise a few of the younger women in preparing dyes for ritual robes-nothing that could not wait another day or a handful of days.\n\n\"I will go to the kitchens,\" she said, \"and fetch us some bread to take with us. We can hunt for waterfowl, if you like-are you fond of hunting?\"\n\nHe nodded and smiled at her. \"Perhaps if I bring my mother a present of some waterfowl she will be less angry with me. I would like to make my peace with her,\" he said, almost laughing. \"When she is angry she is still frightening-when I was little, I used to believe that when I was not with her she took off her mortality and was the Goddess indeed. But I should not speak like that about her-I can see that you are very devoted to her.\"\n\n\"She has been as devoted tome as a foster-mother,\" Morgaine said slowly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Why should she not be?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She is your kinswoman, is she not? Your mother-if I recall rightly-was the wife of Cornwall, and is now the wife of the Pendragon... is it so?\"\n\nMorgaine nodded. It had been so long that she could only half remember Igraine, and now sometimes it seemed to her that she had been long motherless. She had learned to live without need of any mother save the I Goddess, and she had many sisters among the priestesses, so she had no need of any earthly mother. \"I have not seen her for many years.\"\n\n\"I saw Uther's queen but once, from a distance-she is very beautiful, but she seems cold and distant too.\" Lancelet laughed uneasily. \"At my father's court I grew used to women who were interested only in pretty gowns and jewels and their little children, and sometimes, if they were not I married, in finding a husband.... I do not know much about women. You are not like them either. You seem unlike any woman I have ever known.\"\n\nMorgaine felt herself blushing. She said low, reminding him, \"I am a priestess like your mother-\"\n\n\"Oh,\" he said, \"but you areas different from her as night from She is great and terrible and beautiful, and one can only love and adore and I fear her, but you, I feel you are flesh and blood and still real, in spite off all these mysteries around you! You dress like a priestess, and you look like one of them, but when I look into your eyes I see areal woman there whom I could touch.\" He was laughing and intense, and she thrust her hands into his, and laughed back at him.\n\n\"Oh, yes, I am real, as real as the ground under your feet or the birds in that tree....\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Assist with the plot and keep the story going.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 2" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Why should she not be?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She is your kinswoman, is she not? Your mother-if I recall rightly-was the wife of Cornwall, and is now the wife of the Pendragon... is it so?\"\n\nMorgaine nodded. It had been so long that she could only half remember Igraine, and now sometimes it seemed to her that she had been long motherless. She had learned to live without need of any mother save the I Goddess, and she had many sisters among the priestesses, so she had no need of any earthly mother. \"I have not seen her for many years.\"\n\n\"I saw Uther's queen but once, from a distance-she is very beautiful, but she seems cold and distant too.\" Lancelet laughed uneasily. \"At my father's court I grew used to women who were interested only in pretty gowns and jewels and their little children, and sometimes, if they were not I married, in finding a husband.... I do not know much about women. You are not like them either. You seem unlike any woman I have ever known.\"\n\nMorgaine felt herself blushing. She said low, reminding him, \"I am a priestess like your mother-\"\n\n\"Oh,\" he said, \"but you areas different from her as night from She is great and terrible and beautiful, and one can only love and adore and I fear her, but you, I feel you are flesh and blood and still real, in spite off all these mysteries around you! You dress like a priestess, and you look like one of them, but when I look into your eyes I see areal woman there whom I could touch.\" He was laughing and intense, and she thrust her hands into his, and laughed back at him.\n\n\"Oh, yes, I am real, as real as the ground under your feet or the birds in that tree....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They walked together down by the waterside, Morgaine leading I along a little path, carefully skirting the edges of the processional way.\n\n\"Is it a sacred place?\" he asked. \"Is it forbidden to climb the Tor unless you area priestess or a Druid?\"\n\n\"Only at the great festivals is it forbidden,\" she said, \"and you certainly come with me. I may go where I will. There is no one on the Tor now except sheep grazing. Would you like to climb it?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" he said. \"I remember once when I was a child I climbed it. I thought it was forbidden, and so I was sure that if anyone knew I had been there I would be punished. I still remember the view from the height. I wonder if it was as enormous as it seemed tome when I was a little lad.\"\n\n\"We can climb the processional way, if you will. It is not so steep, because it winds round and round the Tor, but it is longer.\"\n\n\"No,\" he said. \"I would like to climb straight up the slope-but\"-he hesitated-\"is it too long and steep fora girl? I have climbed in rougher country, hunting, but can you manage in your long skirts?\"\n\nShe laughed and told him that she had climbed it often. \"And as for the skirts, I amused to them,\" she said, \"but if they get into my way I will not hesitate to tuck them up above my knees.\"\n\nHis smile was slow and delightful. \"Most women I know would think themselves too modest to show their bare legs.\"\n\nMorgaine flushed. \"I have never thought modesty had much to do with bared legs for climbing-surely men know that women have legs like their own. It cannot be so much of an offense of modesty to see what they must be able to imagine. I know some of the Christian priests speak so, but they seem to think the human body is the work of some devil, not of God, and that no one could possibly see a woman's body without going all into a rage to possess it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He looked away from her, and she realized that beneath the outward assurance he was still shy, and that pleased her. Together they set off upward, Morgaine, who was strong and hardy from much running and walking, setting apace which astonished him and which, after the first few moments, he found it difficult to match. About halfway up the slope Morgaine paused, and it was a definite satisfaction to her to hear him breathing hard when her own breath still came easily, unforced. She wound the loose folds of her skirt up around her waist, letting only a single drape hang to her knees, and went on along the steeper, rockier part of the slope. She had never before had the slightest hesitation in baring her legs, but now, when she knew he was looking at them, she could not keep from remembering that they were shapely and strong, and she wondered if he really thought her immodest after all. At the top, she climbed up over the rim of the hill and sat down in the shadow of the ring stones. A minute or two later he came over the edge behind her and flung himself down, panting.\n\nWhen he could speak again, he said, \"I suppose I have been riding too much and not walking and climbing enough! You, you are not even short of breath.\"\n\n\"Well, but I am accustomed to coming up here, and I do not always stop to go round by the processional way,\" she said.\n\n\"And on the priests' Isle there is not even a shadow of the ring stones,\" he said, and pointed.\n\n\"No,\" she said. \"In their world there is only their church and its tower. If we wanted to listen with the ears of the spirit we could hear the church bells... they are shadows here, and in their world, we should be shadows. I sometimes wonder if that is why they avoid the church and keep great fasts and vigils on our holy days-because it would be too uncanny to feel all around them the shadow of the ring stones and perhaps even, for those who still had some shadow of the Sight, to feel and sense all around them the comings and goings of the Druids and hear the whisper of their hymns.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Lancelet shivered and it seemed that a cloud covered the sun fora moment." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": ", \"And you, you have the Sight? You can see beyond the veil that separates the worlds?\"\n\n\"Everyone has it,\" Morgaine said, \"but I am trained to it beyond most women. Would you see, Galahad?\"\n\nHe shivered again and said, \"I beg you, do not call me by that name, cousin.\"\n\nShe laughed. \"So even though you live among Christians, you have that old belief of the fairy folk, that one who knows your true name can command your spirit if he will? You know my name, cousin. What would you have me call you? Lance, then?\"\n\n\"What you will, save for the name my mother gave me. I still fear her voice when she speaks that name in a certain tone. I seem to have drunk in that fear from her breasts....\"\n\nShe reached over to him and laid her fingertip over the spot between his brows which was sensitive to the Sight. She breathed softly on it, and heard his gasp of astonishment, for the ring stones above them seemed to melt away into shadows. Before them now the whole top of the Tor stretched, with a little wattle-and-daub church rising beneath a low stone tower which bore a crude painting of an angel.\n\nLancelet crossed himself swiftly as a line of grey-clad forms came toward them, as it seemed.\n\n\"Can they see us, Morgaine?\" His voice was a rough whisper.\n\n\"Some of them, perhaps, can see us as shadows. A few may think we are some of their own people, or that their eyes are dazzled with the sun and they see what is not there,\" she said, with a catch of breath, for what she told him was a Mystery which she really should not have spoken to an uninitiated person. But she had never in her life felt so close to anyone; she felt she could not bear it, to keep secrets from him, and made him this gift, telling herself that the Lady wanted him for Avalon. What a Merlin he would make!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She could hear the soft sound of singing: O thou lamb of God, who drawest away from us all evil of this world, Lord Christ, show us thy mercy....\n\nHe was singing it softly under his breath, as the church vanished and the ring stones towered again above them.\n\nShe said quietly, \"Please. It is an offense to the Great Goddess to sing that here; the world she has made is not evil, and no priestess of hers will allow man to call it so.\"\n\n\"As you will.\" He was silent, and again the shadow of cloud passed over his face. His voice was musical, so sweet that when he ceased singing she longed to hear it again.\n\n\"Do you play the harp, Lance? Your voice is beautiful enough fora bard.\"\n\n\"As a child, I was taught. After, I had only the usual training befitting a nobleman's son,\" said Lancelet. \"I learned only so great a love of music as to be discontented with my own sounds.\"\n\n\"Is it so? A Druid in training must be a bard before he is a priest, for music is one of the keys to the laws of the universe.\"\n\nLancelet sighed. \"A temptation, that; one of the few reasons I can see for embracing that vocation. But my mother would have me sit in Avalon and play the harp while the world falls apart around us and the Saxons and the wild Northmen burn and ravage and pillage-have you ever seen a village sacked by the Saxons, Morgaine?\" Quickly, he answered his own question. \"No, you have not, you are sheltered herein Avalon, outside of the world where these things are happening, but I must think of them. I am a soldier, and it seems tome that in these times, defending this beautiful land against their burning and looting is the only work befitting a man.\" His face was indrawn, looking on dreadful things." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"If war is so evil,\" Morgaine said, \"why not shelter from it here?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So many of the old Druids died in that last of great magics which removed this holy place from profanation, and we have not enough sons to train in their place.\"\n\nHe sighed. \"Avalon is beautiful, and if I could make all kingdoms as peaceful as Avalon, then I would gladly stay here forever, and spend my days in harping and making music and speaking with the spirits of the great trees... but it seems tome no work fora man, to skulk herein safety when others outside must suffer. Morgaine, let us not speak of it now. For today, I beg you, let me forget. The world outside is filled with strife, and I came here fora day or two of peace; will you not give it tome?\" His voice, musical and deep, trembled a little, and the pain in it hurt her so profoundly she thought fora moment that she would weep. She reached for his hand and pressed it.\n\n\"Come,\" she said. \"You wanted to see if the view was as you remembered....\"\n\nShe led him from the ring stones and they looked out over the Lake. Bright water, rippling softly in the sunlight, stretched all around the Island; far below, a little boat, no larger at this height than a fish leaping, streaked the surface. Other islands, indistinct in the mist, rose as dim shapes, blurred by distance and by the magical veil which removed Avalon from the world.\n\n\"Not very far from here,\" he said, \"there is an old fairy fort at the top of a hill, and the view from the wall is such that standing there, a man can seethe Tor, and the Lake, and there is an island which is like the shape of a coiled dragon-\" He gestured with his shapely hand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I know the place,\" Morgaine said. \"It is on one of the old magical lines of power which crisscross the earth; I was brought there once to feel the earth powers there. The fairy people knew those things-I can sense them a little, feel the earth and the air tingling. Can you feel it? You too are of that blood, being Viviane's son.\"\n\nHe said in a low voice, \"It is easy to feel the earth and air tingling with power, herein this magical isle.\"\n\nHe turned away from the view, saying as he yawned and stretched, \"That climb must have taxed me more than I thought; and I rode much of the night. I am ready to sit in the sun and eat some of that bread you carried here for us!\"\n\nMorgaine led him into the very center of the ring stones. If he was sensitive at all, she thought, he would be aware of the immense power here.\n\n\"Lie back on the earth and she will fill you with her strength,\" she said, and handed him apiece of the bread, which she had spread thickly with butter and comb honey before wrapping it in a bit of deerskin. They ate slowly, licking their fingers free of the honey, and he reached for her hand, taking it up playfully and sucking a bit of honey off her finger.\n\n\"How sweet you are, cousin,\" he said, laughing, and she felt her whole body alive with the touch. She picked up his hand to return the gesture, and suddenly dropped it as if it had burned her; to him it was only a game, perhaps, but it could never be so to her. She turned away, hiding her burning face in the grass. Power from the earth seemed to flow up through her, filling her with the strength of the very Goddess herself." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You area child of the Goddess,\" she said at last. \"Do you know nothing of her Mysteries?\"\n\n\"Very little, though my father once told me how I was begotten-a child of the Great Marriage between the king and the land. And so, I suppose, he thought I should be loyal to the very land of Brittany which is mother and father tome.... I have been at the great center of the old Mysteries, the great Avenue of Stones at Karnak, where once was the ancient Temple; that is a place of power, like to this one. I can feel the power here,\" he said. He turned over and looked up into her face. \"You are like the Goddess of this place,\" he said wonderingly. \"In the old worship, I know, men and women come together under her power, though the priests would like to forbid it, as they would like to tear down all the ancient stones like these above us, and the great ones of Karnak.... They have already torn down apart of them, but the task is too great.\"\n\n\"The Goddess will prevent them,\" said Morgaine simply.\n\n\"Maybe so,\" Lancelet said, and reached up to touch the blue crescent on her forehead. \"It is here that you touched me when you made me see into the other world. Has this to do with the Sight, Morgaine, or is that another of your Mysteries of which you may not speak? Well, I'll not ask you, then. But I feel as if I had been ravished into one of the old fairy forts where, they say, a hundred years can pass in a night.\"\n\n\"Not so long as that,\" Morgaine said, laughing, \"though it is true that time runs differently there. But some of the bards, I have heard, can still come and go from the elf country... it has moved further than Avalon into the mists, that is all.\" And as she spoke, she shivered." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet said, \"Maybe when I go back to the real world, the Saxons will all have been vanquished... and gone.\"\n\n\"And will you weep because there is no longer any reason for your life?\"\n\nHe laughed and shook his head, holding her hand in his. After a minute he said in a low voice, \"Have you, then, gone to the Beltane fires to serve the Goddess?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Morgaine quietly. \"I am virgin while the Goddess wills; most likely I am to be kept for the Great Marriage... Viviane has not made her will or the will of the Goddess known tome.\" She bent her head and let her hair fall across her face, feeling shy before him, as if he could read her thoughts and know the desire which swept through her like a sudden flame. Would she indeed lay down that guarded virginity if he should ask it of her? Never before had the prohibition seemed a hardship; now it seemed that a sword of fire was laid between them. There was along silence, while the shadows passed across the sun, and there was no sound except the chirping of small insects in the grass. At last Lancelet reached up and drew her down, laying a soft kiss, which burned like fire, on the crescent on her brow. His voice was soft and intense.\n\n\"All the Gods together forbid I should trespass where the Goddess has marked you for her own, my dear cousin. I hold you sacred as the Goddess herself.\" He held her close; she could feel that he was shaking, and a happiness so intense that it was pain flooded through her.\n\nShe had never known what it was to be happy, not since she was a small and heedless child; happiness was something she dimly remembered before her mother had burdened her with the weight of her little brother. And herein the Island, life had soared into the free spaces of the spirit and she had known exaltation and the delights of power as well as the suffering and struggle of the pain and the ordeals; but never the pure happiness she knew now. The sun seemed to burn more brightly, the clouds to move through the sky like great wings against the dazzling, sparkling air, every bud of clover in the grass shimmered with its own interior light, alight that seemed to shine out from her as well. She saw herself mirrored in Lancelet's eyes and knew that she was beautiful, and that he desired her, and that his love and respect for her were so great that he would even hold his own desire within bounds. She felt she would burst with her joy." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Time stopped. She swam in delight. He did no more than stroke her cheek with the gentlest of feather-light caresses, and neither of them wanted more. She played softly with his fingers, feeling the calluses on his palms.\n\nAfter along time, he drew her against him and spread the edges of his cloak over her. They lay side by side, barely touching, letting the power of the sun and the earth and the air move through them in harmony, and she dropped into a dreamless sleep through which she was still conscious of their intertwined hands. It seemed that sometime, a very longtime ago, they had lain like this, content, timeless, in an endless joyful peace, as if they were part of the standing stones which had stood here forever; as if she both experienced and remembered being with him here. Later she woke and saw him sleeping, and sat memorizing every line of his face with a fierce tenderness.\n\nThe sun had declined from noon when he woke, smiling into her eyes, and stretched like a cat. Still enclosed in the bubble of her joy, she heard him say, \"We were going down to hunt waterfowl. I would like to make peace with my mother-I am so happy I cannot bear to think of being at odds with any living thing today, but perhaps the spirits of nature will send us some waterfowl whose given destiny is to make us a happy meal....\"\n\nShe laughed, clasping his hand. \"I will take you where the waterbirds hunt and fish, and if it is the will of the Goddess, we will catch nothing, so we need not feel guilt about disturbing their destiny. But it is very muddy, so you must takeoff those boots you have for riding, and I will have to tuck up my dress again. Do you use a throwing stick like the Picts, or their little arrows with poison, or do you snare them and wring their necks?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I think they suffer less when they are quickly netted and their necks broken at once,\" Lancelet said thoughtfully, and she nodded.\n\n\"I will bring a net and snare-\"\n\nThey saw no one as they climbed down the Tor, sliding in a few minutes down what had taken them more than an hour to climb. Morgaine slipped into the building where nets and snares were kept and brought out two; they went quietly along the shore and found the reeds at the far side of the Island. Barefoot, they waded into the water, hiding in the reeds and spreading the nets. They were in the great shadow of the Tor, and the air felt chill; the waterbirds were already beginning to descend in numbers to feed. After a momenta bird began to struggle and flap, its feet caught in Morgaine's snare; she moved swiftly, seized it and, within seconds, broke its neck. Soon Lancelet caught one, then another; he tied their necks together with a band of reeds.\n\n\"That is enough,\" he said. \"It is good sport, but on such a day as this I would rather not kill anything needlessly, and there is one for my mother and two for the Merlin. Do you want one for yourself?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"I eat no flesh,\" she said.\n\n\"You are so tiny,\" he said, \"I suppose you need little food. I am big and I hunger quickly.\"\n\n\"Are you hungry now? It is too early for most berries, but we might find some haws from the winter-\"\n\n\"No,\" he said, \"not now, not really; my supper will be all the more welcome fora little hunger.\" They came upon the shore, soaked. Morgaine pulled off her deerskin overtunic to dry it on a bush, for it would stiffen, and pulled off her skirt too, wringing out the water, standing unselfconsciously in her undershift of unbleached linen. They found where they had left their shoes, but they did not put them on, only sitting on the grass, holding hands quietly and watching the waterfowl swimming, suddenly upending their tails and diving for small fish." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"How still it is,\" Lancelet said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is as if we were the only people alive in all the world today, outside time and space and all cares and troubles, or thoughts of war or battle or kingdoms or strife....\"\n\nShe said, her voice shaking as the thought struck her that this golden time must end, \"I wish this day could last forever!\"\n\n\"Morgaine, are you weeping?\" he asked in sudden solicitude.\n\n\"No,\" she said fiercely, shaking a single rebellious drop from her lashes, seeing the world burst into prism colors. She had never been able to weep; had never shed a single tear in fear or pain, through all the years of ordeals in the making of a priestess.\n\n\"Cousin, kinswoman... Morgaine,\" he said, holding her against him, stroking her cheek. She turned and clung to him, burying her face in the front of his tunic. He felt warm; she could feel the steady beat of his heart.\n\nAfter a moment he bent and laid one hand under her chin, raising her face, and their lips met.\n\nHe whispered, \"I would you were not pledged to the Goddess.\"\n\n\"I, too,\" she said softly.\n\n\"Come here, come here-let me hold you, like this-I have sworn I will not... trespass.\"\n\nShe closed her eyes; she no longer cared. Her oath seemed a thousand leagues and a thousand years distant, and not even the thought of Viviane's anger could have deterred her. Years afterward, she wondered what would have happened if they had stayed like that even a few more minutes; no doubt the Goddess in whose hands they lay would have had her will with them. But even as their lips joined again, Lancelet stiffened a little, as if hearing something just outside the range of hearing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine pulled away and sat up.\n\n\"Morgaine, what is that?\"\n\n\"I hear nothing,\" she said, straining to hear beyond the sound of soft water lapping in the Lake, wind rustling in the reeds, and the occasional sound of a fish jumping. And then it came again, like a soft sighing... like someone weeping.\n\n\"Someone is crying,\" said Lancelet, and unfolded his long legs quickly to stand up. \"Over there... someone is hurt or lost, it sounds like a little girl....\"\n\nMorgaine followed quickly, barefoot, leaving her skirt and tunic on the bush. It was just possible that one of the younger priestesses might have become lost here, though they were not supposed to leave the enclosure near the House of Maidens. Still, young girls were young girls, and could not yet be trusted not to break rules; one of the old priestesses had once said that the House of Maidens was for little girls whose whole duty in life was to spill things, break things, and forget things, the rules of their daily life among them, until they had spilled, broken, and forgotten everything they could, and thus made room in their lives fora little wisdom. And now that Morgaine was a full priestess, she had begun to instruct the young, and sometimes she felt the old priestess had been right: surely she had never been so silly and empty-headed as the girls who were now in the House of Maidens.\n\nThey followed the sound. It was hazy, now fading out for minutes altogether, and then coming back, quite clear. Mist was beginning to drift in from the Lake in thick tendrils, and Morgaine was not quite sure whether it was ordinary fog born of the dampness and the approaching sunset, or whether it was the outlying mist of the veil surrounding the magical realm." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"There,\" said Lancelet, plunging suddenly into the mist. Morgaine followed him and saw dimly, fading from shadow into reality and back again, the figure of a young girl standing in the water up to her ankles, and crying.\n\nYes, Morgaine realized, she's really there; and, No, this is no priestess. She was very young and dazzlingly pretty; she seemed all white and gold, her skin pale as ivory just stained with coral, her eyes palest sky-blue, her hair long and pale and shining through the mist like living gold. She wore a white dress which she was trying unsuccessfully to holdout of the water. And somehow she seemed to shed tears without any ugly distortion of her face, so that, weeping, she only looked prettier than ever.\n\nMorgaine said, \"What is the matter, child? Are you lost?\"\n\nShe stared at them as they came closer, and whispered, \"Who are you? I didn't think anyone could hear me here-I called out to the sisters, but none of them could hear me, and then the land started to move, and where it had been all solid, suddenly I was standing herein the water and the reeds were all around me and I was afraid.... What is this place? I never saw it before, and I have been in the convent for almost a year now....\" And she crossed herself.\n\nSuddenly Morgaine knew what had happened. The veil had thinned, as it did occasionally in spots of such concentrated power, and somehow this girl had had enough sensitivity to be aware of it. This happened, sometimes, as a momentary vision, so that someone could seethe other world as a shadow or a brief vision; but to move through into the other world was rare.\n\nThe girl took a step toward them, but under her feet the marshy surface swayed, and she stopped in panic." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Standstill,\" Morgaine said gently. \"The ground is a little unsafe here. I know the paths. I'll help you out, dear.\"\n\nBut even as she moved forward, her hand extended, Lancelet stepped in front of her, picked up the young girl, and carried her to dry land, setting her down.\n\n\"Your shoes are wet,\" he said, for they squelched as she moved. \"Take them off and you can dry them.\"\n\nShe looked at him in wonder; she had stopped crying. \"You're very strong. Not even my father is as strong as that. And I think I have seen you somewhere, haven't I?\"\n\n\"I don't know,\" Lancelet said. \"Who are you? Who is your father?\"\n\n\"My father is King Leodegranz,\" she said, \"but I am here at school in the convent....\" Her voice began to shake again. \"Where is it? I cannot even seethe building anywhere, or the church-\"\n\n\"Don't cry,\" Morgaine said, stepping forward, and the young girl drew back a little.\n\n\"Are you one of the fairy people? You have that blue sign on your forehead-\" and she raised her hand and crossed herself again. \"No,\" she said doubtfully, \"you cannot be a demoness, you do not vanish when I cross myself, as the sisters say any demon must do-but you are little and ugly like the fairy people-\"\n\nLancelet said firmly, \"No, of course neither of us is a demon, and I think we can find the way back to your convent for you.\" Morgaine, her heart sinking, saw that he now looked upon the stranger as he had looked on her only minutes before, with love, desire, almost worship. Ashe turned back to Morgaine, saying eagerly, \"We can help her, can't we?\" Morgaine saw herself as she must look to Lancelet and to the strange golden maiden-small, dark, with the barbarian blue sign on her forehead, her shift muddy to the knees, her arms immodestly bare and her feet filthy, her hair coming down. Little and ugly like one of the fairy folk. Morgaine of the Fairies. So they had taunted her since childhood. She felt a surge of self-hatred, of loathing for her small, dark body, her half-naked limbs, the muddy deerskin. She snatched her damp skirt off the bush and put it on, conscious suddenly of her bare limbs; she wound the filthy deerskin tunic over it. Fora moment, as Lancelet looked at her, she felt that he too must think her ugly, barbarian, alien; this exquisite golden creature belonged to his own world." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He came and gently took the stranger girl's hand, with a respectful bow. \"Come, we can show you the way back.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" said Morgaine dully, \"I will show you the way. Follow me, and stay close, because the ground is treacherous and you could mire yourself and not get out fora longtime.\" Fora furious moment she was tempted to lead them both into the impassable mire-she could do it, she knew the way-lead them out there and leave them to drown or wander forever in the mists.\n\nLancelet asked, \"What is your name?\"\n\nThe fair girl said, \"My name is Gwenhwyfar,\" and she heard Lancelet murmuring, \"What a lovely name, fitting to the lady who bears it.\" Morgaine felt a surge of hatred so great she thought that she would faint with its force. She felt it would be with her until she died, and in that molten instant she actually longed for death. All the color had gone from the day, into the mist and the mire and the dismal reeds, and all her happiness had gone with it.\n\n\"Come,\" she repeated in a leaden voice, \" and I will show you the way.\n\nAs she turned to go she heard them laughing together behind her and wondered, through the dull surge of hatred, if they were laughing at her. She heard Gwenhwyfar's girlish voice saying, \"But you don't belong to this horrible place, do you? You don't look like one of the fairy folk, you're not little and ugly.\"\n\nNo, she thought, no, he was beautiful, and she-little and ugly. The words burned into her heart; she forgot that she looked like Viviane, and that, to her, Viviane was beautiful. She heard Lancelet saying, \"No, no, I would love to comeback with you-really, I would-but I am promised to dine with a relative this night, and my mother is angry enough with me already, I don't want to make the old gentleman angry too. But no, I don't belong to Avalon...\" and, after a minute, \"No, she's-well, a cousin of my mother's, or. something like that, we knew each other when we were children, that's all.\" And now she knew that he was speaking of her. So quickly, then, all that had been between them had been reduced to a distant family tie. Fiercely fighting back a surge of tears that made her throat ache, knowing that weeping would make her uglier than ever in their eyes, she stepped on dry land. \"There lies your convent, Gwenhwyfar. Be careful to keep to the path, or you may lose yourself in the mists again.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She saw that the girl had been holding Lancelet's hand. It seemed to\n\nMorgaine that he let it go reluctantly. The girl said, \"Thank you, oh, thank you!\"\n\n\"It is Morgaine you should thank,\" Lancelet reminded her. \"It is she who knows the paths in and out of Avalon.\" The girl gave her ashy sidelong look. She dropped a little polite curtsey. \"I thank you, mistress Morgaine.\"\n\nMorgaine drew a deep breath, drawing the mantle of a priestess around her again, the glamour she could summon when she would; despite her filthy and torn clothing, her bare feet, the hair that straggled in wet locks around her shoulders, she knew that suddenly she looked tall and imposing. She made a remote gesture of blessing and turned, silent, summoning Lancelet with another gesture. She knew, even though she did not see, that the awe and fright had returned to the girl's eyes, but she moved silently away, with the noiseless gliding of a priestess of Avalon, Lancelet's steps, reluctant, following her own silent ones.\n\nAfter a moment she looked back, but the mists had closed and the girl had vanished within them. Lancelet said, shaken, \"How did you do that, Morgaine?\"\n\n\"How did I do what?\" she asked.\n\n\"Suddenly look so-so-like my mother. All tall and distant and remote and-and not quite real. Like a female demon. You frightened the poor girl, you shouldn't have done it!\"\n\nMorgaine bit her tongue with her sudden wrath. She said in a remote and enigmatic voice, \"Cousin, I am what I am,\" and turned, hurrying up the path ahead of him. She was cold and weary and sick with an inner sickness; she longed for the solitude of the House of Maidens. Lancelet seemed along way behind her, but she no longer cared. He could find his own way from here." }, { "from": "human", "value": "In the spring of the year after this, through a drenching late-winter storm, the Merlin came late one night to Avalon." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When word was brought to the Lady, she stared in astonishment.\n\n\"A night such as this would drown the very frogs,\" she said. \"What brings him out in such weather?\"\n\n\"I do not know, Lady,\" said the young apprentice Druid who had brought the word. \"He did not even send for the barge, but made his own way by the hidden paths, and said that he must see you this night before you slept. I sent him for dry clothing-his own was in such a state as you can imagine. I would have brought him food and wine as well, but he asked if he might sup with you.\"\n\n\"Tell him he is welcome,\" Viviane said, keeping her face carefully neutral-she had learned very well the art of concealing her thoughts-but when the young man had gone, she allowed herself to stare in amazement, and to frown.\n\nShe sent for her attendant women, and bade them bring not her usual spare supper, but food and wine for the Merlin, and to buildup the fire anew.\n\nAfter a time she heard his step outside, and when he came in, he went directly to the fire. Taliesin was stooped now, his hair and beard all white, and he looked somewhat incongruous in the green robe of a novice bard, far too short for him, so that his scrawny ankles protruded from the lower edge of the garment. She seated him near the fire-he was still, she noticed, shivering-and set a plate of food and a cup of wine, good apple wine from Avalon itself, in a chased silver cup, at his side.\n\nThen she seated herself on a small stool nearby and tasted her bread and dried fruit as she watched him eat. When he had pushed the plate aside and sat sipping at the wine, she said, \"Now tell me everything, Father.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The old man smiled at her. \"I never thought to hear you call me so, Viviane. Or do you think I have taken the holy orders of the church in my dotage?\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"No,\" she said, \"but you were the lover of my mother who was Lady here before me, and you fathered two of my sisters. Together we have served the Goddess and Avalon for more years than I can number, and perhaps I long for the comfort of a father's voice this night... I do not know. I feel very old this night, Fa-Taliesin. Is it that you think me too old to be your daughter?\"\n\nThe old Druid smiled. \"Never that, Viviane. You are ageless. I know how old you are-or I could reckon up your age if I chose-but still you seem a girl tome. You might even now have as many lovers as you chose, if you willed it.\"\n\nShe dismissed that with a gesture. \"Be sure I have never found any man who meant more tome than necessity, or duty, or a night's pleasure,\" she said. \"And only once, I think, any man save yourself who came near to matching me in strength-\" She laughed. \"Though, had I been ten years younger-how, think you, would I have befitted the throne as the High King's queen, and my son the throne?\"\n\n\"I do not think Galahad-what is it he would have you call him now? Lancelet?-I do not think he is the stuff of which kings are made. He is a visionary, a reed shaken by the wind.\"\n\n\"But if he had been fathered by Uther Pendragon-\" Taliesin shook his head. \"He is a follower, Viviane, not a leader.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Even so. That comes from being reared at Ban's court, as a bastard. Had he been reared as a king's son...\"\n\n\"And who would have ruled Avalon in those years, had you chosen a crown in the Christian lands outside?\"\n\n\"If I had ruled them at Uther's side,\" she said, \"they would not have been Christian lands. I thought Igraine would have power over him, and use it for Avalon....\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"There is no use in fretting after last winter's snow, Viviane. It is of Uther I came to speak. He is dying.\"\n\nShe raised her head and stared at him. \"So it has come already.\" She felt her heart racing. \"He is too young to die....\"\n\n\"He leads his men into battle, where a wiser man of his years might leave it to his generals; he took a wound, and fever set in. I offered my services as healer, but Igraine forbade it, as did the priests. I could have done nothing anyway; his time has come. I saw it in his eyes.\"\n\n\"How does Igraine as queen?\"\n\n\"Very much as you would have foreseen,\" said the old Druid. \"She is beautiful, and dignified, and pious, and goes always in mourning for the children she has lost. She bore another son at All Hallows; he lived four days, no more. And her house priest has convinced her it is the punishment for her sins. No breath of scandal has ever touched her since she married Uther-save for the birth of that first child, so soon. But that was enough. I asked her what would become of her after Uther's death, and when she had done weeping for that, she said she would retire into a convent. I offered her the shelter of Avalon, where she could be near to her daughter, but she said it would not be seemly fora Christian queen.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Viviane's smile hardened a little. \"I never thought to hear that of Igraine.\"\n\n\"Viviane, you must not blame her, even in thought, for what you yourself have wrought. Avalon cast her out when most she needed it; would you chide the girl because she has found comfort in a simpler faith than ours?\"\n\n\"I doubt it not-you are the only man in all of Britain who could speak of the High Queen as a girl!\"\n\n\"Tome, Viviane, even you area little girl at times-that same little girl who used to climb on my knee and touch the strings of my harp.\"\n\n\"And now I can hardly play. My fingers lose their suppleness with the years,\" Viviane said.\n\nHe shook his head. \"Ah, no, my dear,\" he said, holding out his own thin, gnarled old fingers. \"Next to this, your hands are young, yet daily I speak to my harp with them, and you could have done so as well. Your hands chose to wield power, not song.\"\n\n\"And what would have become of Britain if I had not?\" she flared at him.\n\n\"Viviane,\" he said, with a touch of sternness, \"I did not censure you. I merely spoke the thing which is.\"\n\nShe sighed and leaned her chin in her hands. \"I spoke well when I said that this night I was in need of a father. So it has come upon us already, the thing we feared and have wrought for all these years. What of Uther's son, my father? Is he ready?\"\n\n\"He must be ready,\" said the Merlin. \"Uther will not live till Midsummer-day. And already the carrion crows gather, as they did when Ambrosius lay dying. As for the boy-have you not seen him?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Now and again, I see a glimpse of him in the magic mirror,\" she said. \"He looks healthy and strong, but that tells me nothing except that he can look the part of a king when it comes to that. You have visited him, have you not?\"\n\n\"At Uther's will, I went now and again to see how he grew. I saw that he had those same books in Latin and Greek which taught your son so much of strategy and warfare; Ectorius is Roman to the core, and the conquests of Caesar and the exploits of Alexander are part of his very being. He is an educated man, and has trained both his sons for warfare. Young Caius was blooded in battle last year; Arthur fretted that he could not go, but he is an obedient son to Ectorius and did as he was told.\"\n\n\"If he is so much Roman,\" Viviane asked, \"will Arthur be willing to be subject to Avalon? For he must rule the Tribes, as well, and the Pictish folk, remember.\"\n\n\"I saw to that,\" said the Merlin, \"for I induced him to meet some of the little people, saying that they were the allies of Uther's soldiers in this war to defend our island. With them he has learned to shoot their elf bolts, and to move silently in the heather and over the moors, and-\" He hesitated and said significantly, \"He can stalk the deer and does not fear to go among them.\"\n\nViviane closed her eyes fora moment. \"He is so young...\"\n\n\"The Goddess chooses always the youngest and strongest of men to lead her warriors,\" said Taliesin.\n\nViviane bowed her head. \"Be it so,\" she said. \"He shall be tested. Bring him here if you can before Uther dies.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Here?\" The Merlin shook his head. \"Not till the testing is done. Only then can we show him the road to Avalon and the two realms over which he must rule.\"\n\nAgain Viviane bowed her head. \"To Dragon Island, then.\"\n\n\"It will be the ancient challenge? Uther was not tested so at his king-making-\"\n\n\"Uther was a warrior; it was enough to make him lord over the dragon,\" Viviane said. \"This boy is young and unblooded. He must be tested and proven.\"\n\n\"And if he fails...\"\n\nViviane gritted her teeth. \"He must not fail!\"\n\nTaliesin waited until she met his eyes again and repeated, \"And if he fails...\"\n\nShe sighed. \"No doubt Lot is ready, if that should come.\"\n\n\"You should have taken one of Morgause's sons and fostered him here at Avalon,\" the Merlin said. \"Gawaine is a likely boy. Hotheaded, quarrelsome-a bull, where Uther's boy is a stag. But there is the stuff of a king in Gawaine, I think, and he also is Goddess-born-Morgause too was your mother's daughter, and her sons have the royal blood.\"\n\n\"I do not trust Lot,\" said the Lady vehemently, \"and I trust Morgause less than that!\"\n\n\"Yet Lot holds the clansmen to the north, and I think the Tribes would accept him-\"\n\n\"But those who hold to Rome-never,\" said the Lady, \"and then there would be two kingdoms in Britain, ever warring, and neither strong enough to hold off the Saxons and the wild Northmen. No. Uther's son it must be, he must not fail!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"That must be as the Goddess wills,\" said the Merlin sternly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"See you mistake not your own will for hers.\"\n\nViviane covered her face with her hands. \"If he fails-if he fails it will all have been for nothing,\" she said wildly, \"-all that I have done to Igraine, all I have done to all those I love. Father, have you foreseen that it will fail?\"\n\nThe old man shook his whitehead and his voice was compassionate.\n\n\"The Goddess does not make her will known tome,\" he said, \"and it was you who foresaw that this boy would have the powers to lead all of Britain. I caution you against pride, Viviane-thinking you know the best for every man and woman living. You have ruled well in Avalon-\"\n\n\"But I am old,\" she said, raising her face, and she could seethe pity in his eyes, \"and one day soon...\"\n\nThe Merlin bowed his head; he too lived under that law. \"When that time comes, you will know; it is not yet, Viviane.\"\n\n\"No,\" she said, struggling against the sudden despair which had come, as it sometimes did now, a heat in her body, a torment in her mind, \"when it comes, when I can no longer see what lies ahead, then I will know it is time to give over the rulership of Avalon to another. Morgaine is still young, and Raven, whom I love well, has given herself to silence and the voice of the Goddess. It has not yet come; but if it comes too soon-\"\n\n\"Whenever it comes, Viviane, that will be the right time,\" the Merlin said. He stood up, tall and unsteady, and Viviane saw that he leaned heavily on his stick. \"I will bring the boy to Dragon Island then, at the spring thaw, and we will see whether he is ready to be made king. And then you will give him the sword and the cup, in token that there is an eternal link between Avalon and the world outside-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The sword, at least,\" Viviane said. \"The cup-I do not know.\"\n\nThe Merlin bowed his head. \"That I leave to your wisdom. You, not I, are the voice of the Goddess. Yet you will not be the Goddess for him-\"\n\nViviane shook her head. \"He will meet the Mother when he is triumphant,\" she said, \"and from her hand he will take the sword of victory. But first he must prove his own, and must meet first with the Maiden Huntress....\" A flicker of a smile crossed her face. \"And no matter what happens after that,\" she said, \"we will take no such chance as we did with Uther and Igraine. We shall make certain of the royal blood, whatever comes of it later.\"\n\nWHEN THE MERLIN had gone away, she sat fora longtime, watching pictures in the fire, seeing into the past alone, not seeking to look through the mist of time toward the future.\n\nShe too, years ago, so many years that she could not now remember how many, had laid down her maidenhood to the Horned God, the Great Hunter, the Lord of the living spiral dance. She hardly spared a thought for the virgin who would take this part in the kingmaking which was to come, but she let her mind stray into the past, and the other times she had played the part of the Goddess in the Great Marriage...\n\n... never had it been more to her than duty; sometimes pleasant, sometimes distasteful, but always bidden, possessed by the Great Mother who had ruled her life since first she had come here. Suddenly she envied Igraine, and a detached part of her mind wondered why she envied a woman who had lost all her children to death or fosterage, and now was to suffer widowhood and end her life behind convent walls." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What I envy her is the love she has known.... I have no daughters, my sons are strangers and alien tome.... I have never loved, she thought. Nor have I known what it is to beloved. Fear, awe, reverence... these have been given me. Never love. And there are times when I think I would give it all for one look from any human being such as Uther gave Igraine at their wedding.\n\nShe sighed bleakly, repeating half aloud what the Merlin had said. \"Well, there is no use fretting after last year's snowfall.\" She raised her head, and her attendant came on noiseless feet.\n\n\"Lady-?\"\n\n\"Bring me-no,\" she said, changing her mind abruptly; let the girl sleep. It is not true that I have never loved or been loved. I love Morgaine beyond all measuring, and she loves me.\n\nNow that, too, might come to an end. But that too must be as the Goddess willed it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The palest splinter of new moon stood to the west of Avalon. Morgaine paced slowly upward, her bare feet treading out the spiral pathway, noiseless and pale as the virgin moon. Her hair was unbound, her single garment uncinctured. She knew that guards and priestesses watched her, silent, lest some unauthorized person disturb her silence with an unconsecrated word. Behind the dark curtain of her hair, her eyelids were lowered. She moved unerringly on the path, without need for sight. Raven moved silently behind her, like Morgaine barefoot, ungirdled, her unbound hair curtaining her face.\n\nUpward and upward in the darkening twilight, with a few stars pale in the indigo dome above them. The ring stones were grey and shadowy, a single pallid flicker within them-not fire; some will-o'-the-wisp, witch fire, sorcery, gleaming out from within the magical circle.\n\nBy the last flicker of the setting moon, reflected fora moment in the shining Lake below, a silent maiden priestess moved toward them, only a little girl, robed in undyed wool, her shorn hair no more than a wisp of darkness. She offered Morgaine a cup and Morgaine accepted it and drank in silence, then handed the cup to Raven, who drained its last drops. Silver and gold gleamed in the dying light. Morgaine took, from unseen hands, the great cross-handled sword, gasping a little at the unexpected weight. Barefoot, cold but not aware of it, she traced out the circle under the ring stones. Behind her, Raven took the long spear, thrust it into the heart of the witch fire. Light sprang upon the bit of tow there and she carried it, after Morgaine, all around the circle, a dim line of pale witch fire springing up around the dimness. Returning to the center by the dimmest of pale lights, they saw the face of Viviane; ageless, timeless, floating in midair disembodied-the face of the Goddess, shining. Although Morgaine knew that the effect was produced by a luminous substance smeared on cheeks and brow against the darkness of the circle and the dark garments, it never failed to make her catch her breath." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Bodiless, shining hands laid something in Morgaine's hands, then in Raven's." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine bit into the sharp wooden bitterness, forced herself, past sickness, to swallow. Silence descended. Eyes gleamed in the dark, but no faces could be seen. She felt as if she were standing among multitudes beyond multitudes thronging the top of the Tor, but she could see no single face among them. Even Viviane's bodiless face had vanished into the dark. She could feel the warmth of Raven's body near hers, though they nowhere touched one another. She tried to keep her mind still, in meditation, moving into the schooled silence, not sure why she had been brought here.\n\nTime passed; stars brightened against the ever-darkening sky. Time, Morgaine thought, time runs differently in Avalon, or perhaps it does not exist. Many nights during the long years she had traced out the spiral paths up the Tor, probing the mysteries of time and space within the circle of the ring stones. Yet tonight seemed stranger, darker, somehow more weighted with mystery; never before had shebeen called out from the other priestesses to play the major part in ritual. She knew that what she had been given the magical feast, was an herb used to strengthen the sight; that did not diminish its power or its magic.\n\nAfter a time, in the darkness, she began to see pictures in her mind, small colored pictures as if at a very great distance. She saw a herd of deer running. She saw again the great darkness that had descended upon the land when the sun went out and a cold wind blew, and she had been afraid that the world was ending; but the older priestesses had explained to her, as they gathered in the courtyard, that the Moon God was effacing the brightness of the Goddess, and she ran outwith them joyously to join in the shrieks of the women to frighten him away. Later it had been explained to her how the sun and moon moved, and why, now and again, one of them crossed the face of the other; that it was in the way of nature, and the common people's beliefs about the face of the Gods were symbols which these people, at the current state of their evolution, needed to visualize the great truths. Someday all men and women would know the inner truths, but now they needed them not." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She watched in the inner Sight, as she had done in life, while again and again the cycles of the year swung around the great ring stones; she watched the birth and fecundity and at last the dying of the God; she saw the great processions winding up the spiral toward the oak grove before the ring stones had been set here... time was transparent, it ceased to have meaning as the little painted people came and ripened and were cut down, and then the Tribes, and after them the Romans in their turn, and tall strangers from the coast of Gaul, and after them... time ceased, and she only saw the movement of peoples and the overgrowth of the world, ice came and receded and came again, she saw the great temples of Atlantis now drowned forever between the covering oceans, saw new worlds rising and setting... and silence and beyond the night the great stars wheeled and swung....\n\nBehind her she heard an eerie wailing cry and her skin iced. Raven cried out, Raven whose voice she had never heard; Raven, who once, when they were serving together in the Temple, had caught a lamp about to overflow, and, scalded with the burning oil, had sat smothering her screams with her two hands while her burns were bandaged, that she might not break the vow which had given her voice to the Goddess. She would always bear the scars; once, looking at her, Morgaine had thought, The vow I made was a little thing next to that, and yet I came so near to breaking it fora dark and sweet-voiced man.\n\nAnd now Raven, in the moonless night, screamed aloud, a high, eldritch crying, like a woman in childbed. Three times the shrill cry trembled over the Tor, and Morgaine shivered again, knowing that even the priests on the other island that lay corresponding to their own must waken in their solitary cells and cross themselves, hearing that haunted cry that rang between the worlds." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After the cry, silence, a silence which seemed to Morgaine filled with breathing, withheld breath even, from the unseen initiates who now surrounded the dreadful solitude inhabited only by the three motionless priestesses. Then, gasping and choking, as if her voice were long disabled from the silence, Raven cried out:\n\n\"Ah-seven times the Wheel, the Wheel with thirteen spokes, has turned about in the sky... seven times the Mother has given birth to her dark son....\"\n\nAgain the silence, deepening in contrast, except for the choking gasps of the entranced prophetess. She cried out, \"Ah-ah-I burn-I burn-it is time, it is time...\" and lapsed again into the clotted silence, pregnant with terror.\n\n\"They run! They run in the spring rutting, they run-they fight, they choose their king-ah, the blood, the blood-and the greatest of them all, he runs, and there is blood on the antlers of his pride....\"\n\nAgain the silence lengthened, and Morgaine, seeing in the darkness behind her eyelids the spring running of the deer, saw again what she had seen in a half-forgotten glimpse in the silver bowl-a man among the deer, struggling, fighting....\n\n\"It is the child of the Goddess, he runs, he runs... the Horned One must die... and the Horned One must be crowned... the Virgin Huntress must call the king to her, she must lay down her maidenhood to the God... ah, the old sacrifice, the old sacrifice... I burn, I burn...\" and the words began to choke over one another and die in along, sobbing scream. Behind her, through her closed eyes, Morgaine saw Raven fall senseless to the ground and lie there, gasping, her gasps the only sound in the deepening silence." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Somewhere an owl called; once, twice, three times.\n\nOut of the darkness, priestesses came, silent and dark, blue gleams on their brow. They lifted Raven tenderly and bore her away. They lifted Morgaine too, and she felt her throbbing head tenderly held to a woman's breast as they carried her away. Then she knew no more.\n\nTHREE DAYS LATER, when she had recovered her strength somewhat, Viviane sent for her.\n\nMorgaine rose and tried to dress herself, but she was still weak, and accepted the help of one of the young priestesses, grateful that the girl was under silence and did not speak to her. The long fasting, the terrible sickness brought on by the ritual herbs, the strung tension of the ritual, still gripped at her body; she had eaten a little soup the night before, and some bread soaked in milk this morning, but she still felt sick and empty after the long strain, and her head throbbed, and her moon-dark bleeding had seized her with a violence never felt before; this too, she knew, might be the aftereffect of the sacred herbs. Sick and incurious, she wished that Viviane had left her to recover in peace, but she did Viviane's will as she would have done that of the Goddess, had the Goddess leaned down from Heaven and spoken a wish aloud. When she was dressed, and had braided her hair and wound it with a deerskin thong, and painted the blue crescent on her forehead with fresh blue dye, she went along the trail to the house where the High Priestess lived.\n\nAs was now her privilege, she entered without knocking or announcing her presence. Somehow in this house she always visualized Viviane waiting for her, seated in the thronelike chair as if she were the Goddess on her dark throne, but today Viviane was moving about at the back of the room, and the fire was not lighted, but dark and cold. Viviane wore her simple robe of undyed wool with a hood tied over her hair, and for the first time it came sharply on Morgaine that Viviane was priestess, not now of the Maiden or of the Mother, but of the ancient wise-woman-who was also the Old Death-crone. Her face looked lined and haggard, and Morgaine thought, Of course, if the rites made Raven ill, and myself, and we are both young and strong, what must it have done to Viviane, who has grown old in the service of her whom we serve?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then Viviane turned and smiled at her, a loving smile, and Morgaine felt again the old surge of love and tenderness. But as was fitting a younger priestess in the presence of the Lady, she waited for Viviane to speak first.\n\nViviane gestured to her to sit. \"Have you recovered, child?\"\n\nMorgaine let herself drop to the bench, and knew that even from the short walk she was exhausted. She shook her head.\n\n\"I know,\" Viviane said. \"Sometimes, when they do not know how you will react, they give you too much. Next time, do not take all they give you-judge how much you can take-enough to give you the Sight, but not enough to make you so very ill. You have that right, now; you have reached a stage where obedience maybe tempered with your own judgment.\"\n\nFor some reason those words rang again and again in Morgaine's mind: tempered with your own judgment, tempered with your own judgment. She thought, I am still sick from the drugs they gave me, and shook her head, impatient, to clear away the sound and listen to Viviane.\n\n\"How much did you understand of Raven's prophecy?\"\n\n\"Very little,\" Morgaine confessed. \"It was mysterious tome. I am not sure why I was there.\"\n\n\"Partly,\" Viviane said, \"to lend your strength to her; she is not strong. She is still abed, and I am concerned about her. She knows how much of the herb she can take, yet even that little seemed to be too much; she vomited blood, and is passing more. But she will not die.\"\n\nMorgaine putout a hand to steady herself; she felt hollow, and a sudden wave of sickness passed over her again, leaving her pale and giddy. Without excuse she stood up, staggered outside and vomited, bringing up the bread and milk she had swallowed that morning. She heard Viviane speak her name, and when she had done and stood clutching the doorframe, retching, she found one of the young attendant priestesses therewith a cloth to wipe her face; it was wet and smelled faintly of sweet herbs. Viviane steadied her step as she came back inside, then handed her a small cup." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sip it slowly,\" she said.\n\nIt burned her tongue and fora moment exaggerated the feeling of sickness-it was the strong spirit distilled by the northern Tribes, water-of-life they called it. She had tasted it only once or twice. But when it was down she felt a strong warmth spreading out from her empty stomach, and after a few minutes she felt better, steadier, almost euphoric.\n\n\"A little more,\" Viviane said. \"It will strengthen your heart. Now, do you feel better?\"\n\nMorgaine nodded. \"Thank you.\"\n\n\"Tonight you will be able to eat,\" said Viviane, and in Morgaine's strange state it sounded like a command, as if Viviane could command her very stomach to behave itself. \"So. Let us talk of Raven's prophecy. In the ancient days, long before the wisdom and the religion of the Druids came here from the sunken temples in the western continent, the fairy people-of whom we are both born, you and I, my Morgaine-lived hereon the shores of the inland sea, and before they learned how to plant the barley and reap it again, they lived by gathering the fruits of the land, and by hunting the deer. And in those days there was no king among them, but only a queen who was their mother, though they had not yet learned to think of her as the Goddess. And since they lived by hunting, their queen and priestess learned to call the deer to her, and ask of their spirits that they sacrifice themselves and die for the life of the Tribe. But sacrifice must be given for sacrifice-the deer died for the Tribe, and one of the Tribe must in turn die for the life of the deer, or at least take the chance that the deer could, if they chose, take his life in exchange for their own. So the balance was kept. Do you understand this, my darling?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine heard the unaccustomed endearment, and wondered dimly in her sick and drunken state, Is she telling me that I am to be the sacrifice? Is my life chosen for the Tribe?\n\nIt does not matter. I am given to the Goddess for life or for death.\n\n\"I understand, Mother. At least, I think I do.\"\n\n\"So the Mother of the Tribe chose, every year, her consort. And since he had agreed to give his life for the Tribe, the Tribe gave him of their lives. Even if little children at the breast starved, he always had abundance, and all the women of the Tribe were his to lie with, so that he, the strongest and best, might sire their children. Besides, the Mother of the Tribe was often old past childbearing, and so he must have the choice of the young maidens, too, and no man of the Tribe would interfere with what he wanted. And then, when the year was past-every year in those times-he would put on the antlers of the deer, and wear a robe of untanned deerskin so that the deer would think him one of their own, and he would run with the herd as the Mother Huntress put the spell upon them to run. But by this time the herd had chosen their King Stag, and sometimes the King Stag would smell a stranger, and turn on him. And then the Horned One would die.\"\n\nMorgaine felt again the ice down her spine that she had felt when, on the Tor, this ritual had been enacted before her eyes. The year's king is to die for the life of his people. Was the drug still working in her mind, that she could see it all so clearly?\n\n\"Well, time has moved on, Morgaine,\" Viviane told her quietly, \" and now those old rites are no longer needed, for the barley grows and the sacrifice is bloodless. Only in times of great peril does the Tribe demand such a leader. And Raven has foreseen that this is a time of such peril. So once again there will be a testing of one who runs the risk of death for his chosen people, so that they will follow him unto death." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You have heard me speak of the Great Marriage?\"\n\nMorgaine nodded; of this, Lancelet had been born.\n\n\"The Tribes of the fairy folk, and all the Tribes of the North, have been given a great leader, and the chosen one will be tested by the ancient rite. And if he survives the testing-which will, to some extent, depend on the strength with which the Maiden Huntress can enchant the deer-then he will become the Horned One, the King Stag, consort of the Virgin Huntress, crowned with the antlers of the God. Morgaine, I told you years ago that your maidenhood belongs to the Goddess. Now she calls for it in sacrifice to the Horned God. You are to be the Virgin Huntress, and the bride of the Horned One. You have been chosen for this service.\"\n\nIt was very still in the room, as if they stood again in the center of the ring stones in ritual. Morgaine dared not break the silence. At last, knowing that Viviane was waiting for some word of consent-what had the words been, so long ago? I( is too heavy a burden to be borne unconsenting-she bowed her head.\n\n\"My body and my soul belong to her, to do with as she will,\" she whispered. \"And your will is her will, Mother. Let it be so.\"\n\nSince she had come there, Morgaine had left Avalon only two or three times, and then only for short journeys into the countryside at the edges of the Summer Sea, so that she could become aware of the nearby sites which retained, despite disuse, their old power.\n\nTime and place were now none of her concern. She had been taken from the Island at dawn in silence, cloaked and veiled so that no unpriestly eye might seethe consecrated one, and carried in a closed litter so that not even the sun might shine on her face. In less than a day's journeying from the enclosure of the sacred island she had lost all awareness of time and space and direction, lost in meditation, dimly aware of the beginning of the magical trance. There had been times when she had fought against the onset of the ecstatic state. Now she welcomed it, opening her mind full to the Goddess, inwardly imploring the Goddess to come into herself, the instrument, and possess her, body and soul, so that she might act in all things as the Goddess herself." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Take the role of the writer's aide, proceed with the narrative.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 3" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You have heard me speak of the Great Marriage?\"\n\nMorgaine nodded; of this, Lancelet had been born.\n\n\"The Tribes of the fairy folk, and all the Tribes of the North, have been given a great leader, and the chosen one will be tested by the ancient rite. And if he survives the testing-which will, to some extent, depend on the strength with which the Maiden Huntress can enchant the deer-then he will become the Horned One, the King Stag, consort of the Virgin Huntress, crowned with the antlers of the God. Morgaine, I told you years ago that your maidenhood belongs to the Goddess. Now she calls for it in sacrifice to the Horned God. You are to be the Virgin Huntress, and the bride of the Horned One. You have been chosen for this service.\"\n\nIt was very still in the room, as if they stood again in the center of the ring stones in ritual. Morgaine dared not break the silence. At last, knowing that Viviane was waiting for some word of consent-what had the words been, so long ago? I( is too heavy a burden to be borne unconsenting-she bowed her head.\n\n\"My body and my soul belong to her, to do with as she will,\" she whispered. \"And your will is her will, Mother. Let it be so.\"\n\nSince she had come there, Morgaine had left Avalon only two or three times, and then only for short journeys into the countryside at the edges of the Summer Sea, so that she could become aware of the nearby sites which retained, despite disuse, their old power.\n\nTime and place were now none of her concern. She had been taken from the Island at dawn in silence, cloaked and veiled so that no unpriestly eye might seethe consecrated one, and carried in a closed litter so that not even the sun might shine on her face. In less than a day's journeying from the enclosure of the sacred island she had lost all awareness of time and space and direction, lost in meditation, dimly aware of the beginning of the magical trance. There had been times when she had fought against the onset of the ecstatic state. Now she welcomed it, opening her mind full to the Goddess, inwardly imploring the Goddess to come into herself, the instrument, and possess her, body and soul, so that she might act in all things as the Goddess herself." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Nightfall; a moon nearly at full came dimly between the curtains of the litter. When the runners stopped, she felt it bathing her in cold light, like the kiss of the Goddess, and felt faint with the beginnings of ecstasy. She did not know where she was, nor did she care. She went where they led her, passive, blinded, tranced, knowing only that she went to meet her destiny.\n\nShe was inside a house, then she was put into the hands of a strange woman, who brought her bread and honey, which Morgaine did not touch-she would not break her fast again until she did so with the ritual meal-and water, which she drank thirstily. There was abed, so placed that the moon fell upon her; the strange woman moved to draw the wooden shutters closed and Morgaine stopped her with an imperious gesture. She lay much of the night tranced, feeling the moonlight like a visible touch. At last she slept, but fitfully, wandering in and out of sleep like an uneasy traveller, strange images flickering in her mind-her mother, bending over the fair hair of the intruder Gwydion, her white breasts and coppery hair somehow forbidding instead of welcoming; Viviane, only somehow she was a sacrificial beast and the Lady of Avalon was leading her somewhere on the end of a rope, and she heard herself say fretfully, You needn't pull, I am coming; Raven, soundlessly screaming. A great horned figure, half man, half animal, suddenly thrusting aside a curtain and striding into her room-she woke and half sat up, but there was no one there, only the moonlight, and the stranger woman sleeping quietly at her side. Quickly she lay down again and slept, this time dreamlessly and deep.\n\nAbout an hour before dawn they awakened her. Now, in contrast to the tranced unawareness of the previous day, she was wide awake and sharply aware of everything-the cold fresh air, the mists stained with pink where soon the sun would rise, the strong smell of the little dark women in their garments of badly tanned skins. Everything was clean-edged and brilliantly colored, as if fresh this moment from the hand of the Goddess. The dark women whispered among themselves, not presuming to disturb the strange priestess; she heard them, but she knew only a few words of their language." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After a time the eldest of them-the one who had welcomed her and led her inside on the previous night, and whose bed she had shared-came to Morgaine and brought her freshwater. Morgaine bowed to thank her, the salute, priestess to priestess, and then wondered why. The woman was old; her hair, long and tangled and fastened with a clasp of bone, was almost all white, and her dark skin bore faded blue stains. Her garment was of the same imperfectly dyed skin of the others, but over it she wore a cloak of deerskin, the hair still clinging to it, painted with magical symbols; and about her neck were two necklaces, one of beautiful amber beads-Viviane herself owned none finer-and the other of bits of horn alternating with exquisitely chased gold bars. She carried herself with the authority of Viviane herself, and Morgaine knew that this was the tribal Mother and priestess of the people.\n\nWith her own hands, the woman began to prepare Morgaine for the ritual. She stripped her naked, and painted the soles of her feet and the palms of her hands with blue dye, and renewed the crescent moon on her brow; on her breast and belly she outlined the full moon, and just above the dark patch of Morgaine's body hair she painted the dark moon. Briefly, almost perfunctorily, she parted the girl's legs and probed a little: Morgaine, beyond embarrassment, knew why she was searching. For this rite, the priestess must be a virgin. But the tribal priestess would find nothing wrong; Morgaine was untouched, but she felt a sudden half-pleasurable moment of fear, and at the same moment she was conscious that she was almost fiercely hungry. Well, she was trained to ignore hunger, and after a time the hunger left her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The sun Was rising as they led her outdoors, robed in a cloak like the old woman's, with the magical signs painted on it-the moon, the antlers of the deer. She was aware of the stiff astringency of her painted body, and some part of her mind, very faraway, stared with amazement and a moment's contempt at these symbols of a mystery far older than the Druidic wisdom in which she had been so carefully schooled. That was momentary and vanished at once; the belief of generations ancient past knowing invested this rite with its own power and holiness. She saw the round stone house behind her; across from her was another, and they were leading forth a young man. She could not see him clearly; the rising sun was in her eyes, and she could see only that he was tall, with a shock of fair hair, and strongly built. He is not one of their own people, then? But it was not for her to question. The men of the tribe-and especially an old man, with the gnarled swollen muscles of a smith, blackened like his own forge-were painting the youth's body from head to foot with the blue woad, covering him with a cloak of untanned raw skins, smearing his body with the deer fat. On his head they fixed antlers; at a low word of command, he swung his head to make certain they could not be dislodged, no matter how he moved.\n\nMorgaine looked up to seethe proud swing of that young head, and suddenly she felt a ripple of awareness rundown her body, cramping her calves, running into the secret parts of her body.\n\nThis is the Horned One, this the God, this the consort of the Virgin Huntress.\n\nThey wound her hair in a garland of crimson berries and crowned her with the first of the spring flowers. The precious necklace of gold and bone was reverently taken from the neck of the Mother of the tribe and placed around her own; she felt its weight like the very weight of magic. Her eyes were dazzled with the rising sun. They placed something in her hand-a drum, taut skin stretched over a hooped frame." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As if it came from somewhere else, she heard her own hand strike it.\n\nThey stood on a hillside, overlooking a valley filled to the brim with thick forest, empty and silent, but within it she could sense the life in the forest-the deer moving on silent, slender feet, the animals climbing in the trees, and the birds nesting, darting, moving, asurge with the life of the first running tide of the full moon of spring. She turned fora moment and looked behind, on the hillside. Above them, carved white in the chalk, was a monstrous figure, human or animal she could not tell, her eyes were blurred; was it a running deer, was it a striding man, phallus erect and filled with the spring tide, too?\n\nShe could not seethe young man at her side, only the surge of the life in him. There was a solemn, waiting hush allover the hillside. Time ceased, was again transparent, something in which she moved, bathed, stepped freely. The drum was in the old crone's hands again, but she had no awareness of having given it over to her. Her eyes were dazed with sun as she felt the God's head between her hands, blessing him. Something in the face... of course: before these hills were raised, she had known this face, this man, her consort, from before the beginning of the world.... She did not hear her own ritual words, only the surge of force behind them: Go forth and conquer... run with the deer... swift and strong as the very tides of the spring... forever blessed be the feet that brought you here.... She was not conscious of speech, only of the power, of her own hands blessing, of the force that streamed out of her body, through her body as if the very strength of the sun poured through her and into the man before her. Now the power of the winter is broken and the new life of the spring shall go with you and bring you to victory... life of the Goddess, life of the world, blood of the earth our Mother, shed for her people...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She raised her hands, casting the blessing on the forest, on the earth, feeling the surges of power rushing through her hands like visible light. The young man's body was glowing like her own in the sunlight; around them none dared speak until, pulling her hands back with a rush, she felt the surge of power flung over them all, releasing the chant that rose around them. She could not hear the words, only the thrum of power within them:\n\nLife surges in the spring, the deer run in the forest, and our life runs with them. The King Stag of the world shall bring them down, the King Stag, the Horned One blessed by the Mother shall triumph....\n\nShe was drawn to the last notch of tension, a strung bow pregnant with the arrow of power that must be sped. She touched the Horned One, releasing the power, and as if it sped through them all, they were off, running like the wind down the hillside, racing as if the very spring tides bore them. Behind them, feeling the power leave her, Morgaine crumpled and lay silent on the earth, feeling its damp chill strike up through her body. But she was unaware, tranced in the Sight.\n\nShe lay as if lifeless, but apart of her went with them, raced with them, speeding down the hillside, racing with the men of the tribe, flooding after the Horned One. Barking cries, as if they were hounds, sped after them, and apart of her knew that the women were crying out, speeding on the chase.\n\nHigher in the sky the sun rose, the great Wheel of Life spinning in the heavens, fruitlessly speeding after her divine consort, the Dark Son....\n\nThe life of the earth, the pounding tides of the spring, flooded and pounded in the hearts of the running men. Then, as the ebb followed the flow, from the sunlit hillside the darkness of forest closed over them and swallowed them, and from running they moved swiftly on noiseless feet, imitating the delicate step of the deer; they were the deer, following the antlers of their Horned One, wearing the cloaks which held the deer spellbound, the necklaces signifying life as endless chain, live and feed and bear and die and be eaten in turn to feed the children of the Mother." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "... hold thy children, Mother, thy King Stag must die to feed the life of her Dark Son...\n\nDarkness, the inner life of the forest closing around them; silence, the silence of the deer.... Morgaine, aware now of the forest as life and the deer as the heart of the forest, cast her power and her blessing through and over the forest. Apart of her lay on the sunlit hillside, tranced, exhausted, letting the life of the sun flood through her, body and blood and inner being, and apart of her ran with deer and men until both were one... blending into one... the surges of life that were the quiet deer in their thicket, the little does, smooth and slender, the life racing in them as it raced in her body, the surges of life that were the men, slipping silent and intent through the shadows....\n\nSomewhere in the forest she felt the King Stag fling up his head, sniffing the wind, aware for the scent of an enemy, one of his own, one of the alien tribe of life... she did not know whether it was the four-footed King Stag or the two-legged one she had blessed, they were one in the life of the Mother Earth, and their lot was in the hands of the Goddess. Antlers answered the toss of antlers, the sniffing breathtaking in the life of the forest, searching it for alien, for prey, for predator, for rival where there could be none.\n\nAh, Goddess... they were off, crashing through the underbrush, men fleet behind them only more silent, running, running... run till the heartthrobs like bursting in the chest, run till the life of the body overwhelms all knowledge and thought, fleet, searching and being sought, run with the deer who flee and the men who pursue, run with the spinning life of the great sun and the surge of the spring tides, run with the flow of life...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Lying motionless, her face pressed into the earth and the flooding sunburning her back, time crawling and racing by turns, Morgaine began to see-and from very far off it seemed that she had seen this before, in vision, sometime, somewhere, a very longtime ago-the tall, sinewy youth, gripping his knife, falling, falling among the deer, among the slashing hooves-she knew she screamed aloud, and simultaneously knew that her cry had rung everywhere, so that even the King Stag paused in mid charge, appalled, hearing the shriek." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was a moment when everything stopped, and in that terrible moment of silence she saw that he scrambled to his feet, panting, charging with his head down, swinging his antlers, locking head-on, as he swayed and struggled, wrestling the deer with his strong hands and young body... a knife slashed upward; blood spilled on the earth, and he was bleeding too, the Horned One, blood on his hands, blood from along slash on his side, the blood spilling on the earth, sacrifice spilled to the Mother that life should feed on her blood... and then the blood of the King Stag went over him in a gush as his blade found the heart, and the men around him rushed in with their spears....\n\nShe saw him carried back, covered in the blood of his twin and rival, the King Stag. All around him the little dark men were slashing, putting the raw, warm hide over his shoulders. Back they came in triumph, fires rising in the gathering dusk, and when the women lifted Morgaine she saw without surprise that the sun was setting, and she staggered, as if she too had run all day with the hunt and the deer.\n\nThey crowned her again with the crimson of triumph. The Horned One was brought before her, bleeding, and she blessed him and marked his forehead with the blood of the deer. The head was taken with the antlers which would bring down the next King Stag; the antlers which the Horned One had worn this day, broken and splintered, were cast into the fire. Soon there was a smell of burning flesh and she wondered if it was the flesh of manor stag....\n\nThey seated them side by side, and brought the first meats to them, dripping still with blood and the fat juices. Morgaine felt her head swimming, the rich taste of the meat overpowering her after her long fast; she was afraid fora moment that she would be sick again. Next to her he was eating hungrily, and she noticed by firelight that he had fine strong hands... she blinked, seeing in a strange moment of doubled vision that serpents twined around them, then they were gone again. All around them the men and women of the Tribe were sharing in the ritual feast, the hymn of triumph, sung in an old language Morgaine could only half understand;" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"He has triumphed, he has slain...\n\n... the blood of our Mother is shed upon the earth...\n\n... the blood of the God is spilled upon the earth...\n\n... and he shall rise and reign forever...\n\n... he has triumphed, he shall triumph forever, until the\n\nend of the world...\"\n\nThe old priestess who had painted and decked her this morning held a silver cup to her lips; she felt the strong liquor sting her throat and burn all the way down. Fire, with a strong taste of honey behind it. Already she was drunk with the blood of the meat-she had tasted meat only a few times in the last seven years. Her head was swimming as they bore her away, stripped her and bedecked her naked body with more paint and garlands, marking her nipples and brow with the blood of the slain deer.\n\nThe Goddess receives her consort and she will slay him again at the end of time, she shall give birth to her Dark Son who will bring the King Stag down....\n\nA little girl, painted blue from head to foot and bearing abroad dish, ran across the plowed fields, scattering dark drops as she ran, and Morgaine heard the great cry that went up behind her.\n\n\"The fields are blessed; give us food, O our Mother!\"\n\nAnd for an instant, some small part of Morgaine, dizzy and drunk and only half in her body at all, remarked coldly that she certainly must be mad; she, a civilized and educated woman, princess and priestess and kin to the royal line of Avalon, Druid-taught, here painted like a savage and smelling of freshly shed blood, enduring this barbarian mummery...\n\n... then it was all gone again, as the full moon, serene and proud, rose over the clouds that had barriered it from sight. Bathed naked in the moonlight, Morgaine felt the light of the Goddess streaming over, through her... she was Morgaine no more, she was nameless, priestess and maiden and mother... they strung a garland of crimson berries about her loins; the crude symbolism struck her with sudden fear, and she felt the full weight of virginity pouring and flooding through her like the spring tide. A torch flared in her eyes and they led her into darkness, echoing silences above and beyond her, a cave. All round her, on the walls, she could seethe sacred symbols, painted therefrom the beginnings of time, the stag and antlers, the man with the horns on his brow, the swollen belly and full breasts of She Who Gives Life...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The priestess laid Morgaine on the couch of deerskins. Fora moment she felt cold and frightened, and she shivered, and the old woman's brow wrinkled in compassion; she drew Morgaine into her arms and kissed heron the lips, and Morgaine clung fora moment to the old woman, hugging her in sudden terror, as if the woman's sheltering arms were her mother's own... then the woman smiled at her and kissed her again and touched her breasts in blessing and went away.\n\nShe lay there, feeling the life of the earth around her; she seemed to expand, to fill all the cave, the little scribbled drawings were painted on her breasts and her belly, and above her the great chalk figure, manor deer, strode with erect phallus... the invisible moon outside the cave flooding her body with light as the Goddess surged inside her, body and soul. She stretched out her arms, and at her command she knew that outside the cave, in the light of the fecundating fires, man and woman, drawn one to the other by the pulsating surges of life, came together. The little blue-painted girl who had borne the fertilizing blood was drawn down into the arms of a sinewy old hunter, and Morgaine saw her briefly struggle and cry out, go down under his body, her legs opening to the irresistible force of nature in them. She saw without sight, her eyes closed against the glare of the torch, hearing the cries.\n\nNow he was in the door of the cave, the antlers gone from his brow, his hair streaked, his body smeared blue and stained with blood, white skin like the white chalk of the body of the huge figure above the cave... the Horned One, the consort. He moved dizzily, too, naked, except fora garland like her own about his loins, and she could seethe erect life surging in him like that of the chalk figure. He knelt by her side, and by the torchlight, dazzled, she could see that he was no more than a boy, not one of the little dark people, but tall and fair.... Why have they chosen a king who is not one of their own? The thought darted across her mind like a moonbeam and was gone; she was not thinking at all." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now it is the time for the Goddess to welcome the Horned One-he was kneeling at the edge of the deerskin couch, swaying, blinking by the light of the torch. She reached up to him, gripped his hands, drew him down to her, feeling the soft warmth and weight of his body. She had to guide him. I am the Great Mother who knows all things, who is maiden and mother and all-wise, guiding the virgin and her consort... dazed, terrified, exalted, only half conscious, she felt the life force take them both, moving her body without volition, moving him too, guiding him fiercely into her, till they were both moving without knowledge of what force gripped them. She heard herself crying out as if from a great distance, heard his voice high and shaken in the silence, never knowing what either of them cried out at that moment. The torch guttered and went out in the darkness as all the fierce fury of his young life burst and spurted into her womb.\n\nHe moaned and fell forward across her, lifeless except for his hoarse breathing. She eased him away, cradling his weight in her arms, holding him with weary warmth. She felt him kiss her naked breast. Then slowly, tiredly, his breathing quieted to normal, and after a moment she knew that he slept in her arms. She kissed his hair and his soft cheek with a wild tenderness, and then she too slept.\n\nWHEN SHE WOKE the night was far advanced; moonlight had crept into the cave. She was utterly weary, her whole body aching, and she felt between her legs and knew that she was bleeding. She flung her damp hair back, looking down by the moonlight at the sprawled pale body still sleeping the sleep of long exhaustion beside her. He was tall and strong and beautiful, though by moonlight she could not see his features clearly, and the magical Sight had deserted her; now there was only the moon's light and brilliance, no longer the compelling face of the Goddess. She was Morgaine again, not the shadow of the Great Mother; she was herself again, clear in her mind about what had happened." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She thought fora moment of Lancelet, whom she had loved, and to whom she had hungered to give this gift. Now it had come, not to a lover but to a faceless stranger... no, she must not think like that. She was not a woman, she was a priestess, and she had given the force of the Virgin to the Horned One, as had been ordained for her fate before the walls of the world were laid. She had accepted her destiny as a priestess of Avalon must do, and she sensed that something of shattering importance had happened herein the night past.\n\nShe was cold and lay down, covering herself with the deerskin coverlet. She wrinkled her nose a little at its rankness; they had strewn it with sweet herbs, so at least there would not be fleas. Experienced at judging the tides, she guessed it was about an hour before sunrise. At her side the boy felt her stir and sat up sleepily.\n\n\"Where are we?\" he asked. \"Oh yes, I remember. In the cave. Why, it's already getting light.\" He smiled and reached for her; she let him pull her down and kiss her, wrapping her in strong arms. \"Last night you were the Goddess,\" he murmured, \"but I wake and I find you area woman.\"\n\nShe laughed softly. \"And you are not the God, but a man?\"\n\n\"I think I have had enough of being a God, and besides, it seems tome that it is presumptuous fora man of flesh and blood,\" he said, holding her against him. \"I am content to be no more than a man.\"\n\nShe said, \"Perhaps there is a time to be Goddess and God, and a time to be no more than flesh and blood.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I was afraid of you last night,\" he confessed. \"I thought you the Goddess, all larger than life... and you are such a little thing!\" Suddenly he blinked and said, \"Why, you speak my language, I had not noticed-you are not one of this tribe, then?\"\n\n\"I am a priestess from the Holy Isle.\"\n\n\"And the priestess is a woman,\" he said, his hands gently exploring her breasts, which stirred into sudden life and hunger at his touch. \"Do you think the Goddess will be angry with me if I like the woman better?\"\n\nShe laughed and said, \"The Goddess is wise in the ways of men.\"\n\n\"And is her priestess?\"\n\nSuddenly she felt shy. \"No-I have never known a man before this,\" she said, \"and it was not I, but the Goddess-\"\n\nHe said in the dimness, drawing her close to him, \"Since the God and the Goddess have known pleasure, should not the man and the woman know it also?\" His hands were growing bolder, and she pulled him down to her. \"It seems only fitting,\" she said.\n\nThis time in full awareness she could savor it, the softness and hardness, the strong young hands and the surprising gentleness behind his bold approach. She laughed in delight at the unexpected pleasure, fully open to him, sensing his enjoyment as her own. She had never been so happy in her life. Spent, they lay, limbs twined, caressing each other in a pleasant fatigue.\n\nAt last, in the growing light, he sighed.\n\n\"They will becoming for me soon,\" he said, \"and there is much more of this-I am to betaken somewhere and given a sword, and many other things.\" He sat up and smiled at her. \"And I would like to wash, and have clothes befitting a civilized man, and free myself of all this blood and blue dye... how everything passes! Last night I did not even know I was all smeared with blood-look, you too are covered with the stag's blood where I lay on you-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I think when they come for me, they will bathe me and give me fresh garments,\" she said, \"and you too, in a running stream.\"\n\nHe sighed with a gentle, boyish melancholy. His voice was breaking, an uncertain baritone; how could he be so young, this young giant who had fought the King Stag and killed him with his flint knife?\n\n\"I do not suppose I will ever meet you again,\" he said, \"for you area priestess and dedicated to the Goddess. But I want to say this to you-\" and he leaned down and kissed her between her breasts. \"You were the very first. No matter how many women I may have, for all my life I will always remember you and love you and bless you. I promise you that.\"\n\nThere were tears on his cheek. Morgaine reached for her garment and tenderly dried the tears, cradling his head against her.\n\nAt the gesture he seemed to stop breathing.\n\n\"Your voice,\" he whispered, \"and what you just did-why do I seem to know you? Is it because you are the Goddess, and in her all women are the same? No-\" He stiffened, raised himself, took her face between his hands. In the growing light she saw the boyish features strengthened into the lines of a man. Still only half aware of why she seemed to know him, she heard his hoarse cry. \"Morgaine! You are Morgaine! Morgaine, my sister! Ah, God, Mary Virgin, what have we done?\"\n\nShe put her hands up to her eyes, slowly. \"My brother,\" she whispered. \"Ah, Goddess! Brother! Gwydion-\"\n\n\"Arthur,\" he muttered.\n\nShe held him tight, and after a moment he sobbed, still holding her. \"No wonder it seemed tome that I have known you since before the world was made,\" he said, weeping. \"I have always loved you, and this-ah, God, what have we done-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Don't cry,\" she said, helplessly, \"don't cry. We are in the hands of her who brought us here. It doesn't matter. We are not brother and sister here, we are man and woman before the Goddess, no more.\"\n\nAnd I never knew you again. My brother, my baby, the one who lay on my breast like a little child. Morgaine, Morgaine, I told you to take care of the baby, as she went away and left us, and he cried himself to sleep in my arms. And I did not know.\n\n\"It's all right,\" she said again, rocking him, \"don't cry, my brother, my beloved, my little one, don't cry, it's all right.\"\n\nBut even as she soothed him, despair beat at her.\n\nWhy did you do this to us? Great Mother, Lady, why?\n\nAnd she did not know whether she was calling to Viviane, or to the Goddess.\n\nAll the long road to Avalon, Morgaine lay in her litter, her head throbbing, and that question beating in her mind: Why? She was exhausted after the three days of fasting and the long day of ritual. She knew vaguely that the night's feasting and lovemaking had been intended to release that force, and they would have done so, returning her to normal, except for the morning's shock.\n\nShe knew herself well enough to know that when the shock and exhaustion wore off, they would be followed by rage, and she wished that she could reach Viviane before the rage exploded, while she could still maintain some semblance of calm.\n\nThey took the Lake route this time, and she was allowed, at her own earnest request, to walk apart of the way; she was no longer the ritually shielded Maiden of the ceremony, but only one of the priestess attendants of the Lady of the Lake. Returning with the barge across the Lake, she was asked to summon the mists for the making of the gateway to Avalon; she rose to do so almost perfunctorily, so much had she come to take this Mystery for granted as apart of her life." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yet as she raised her arms for the summoning, she had a sudden, paralyzing moment of doubt. The change within her seemed so great, did she still retain the force to make the gateway? So great washer rebellion that for an instant she hesitated, and the men in the boat looked at her in polite concern. She felt pierced by their eyes, and by a moment of intense shame, as if all that had befallen her the night before must somehow be printed on her face in the language of lust. The sound of church bells rang out quietly over the Lake, and suddenly Morgaine was back in childhood, listening to Father Columba speaking earnestly of chastity as the greatest; approach to the holiness of Mary, Mother of God, who by miracle had borne her Son without even a momentary stain of the world's sin. Even at the time, Morgaine had thought, What great nonsense that is, how could any woman bear a child without knowing a man? But at the sound of the holy bells, something within her seemed to crumple and fold itself away, and she felt tears suddenly streaming down her face.\n\n\"Lady, are you ill?\"\n\nShe shook her head, saying firmly, \"No, I felt faint fora moment.\" She drew a deep breath. Arthur was not in the boat-no, of course not, he had been taken by the Merlin on the Hidden Way. The Goddess is One-Mary the Virgin, the Great Mother, the Huntress... and I have apart in Her greatness. She made a banishing gesture and raised her arms again, swiftly drawing down the curtain of the mist through which they would reach Avalon.\n\nNight was falling, but, although Morgaine was hungry and weary, she made her way at once toward the Lady's house. But at the door, a priestess stopped her when she would have entered." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Lady can see no one at present.\"\n\n\"Nonsense,\" Morgaine said, feeling the beginnings of anger through the merciful numbness and hoping it would hold until she had confronted Viviane. \"I am her kinswoman; ask if I may come to her.\"\n\nThe priestess went away and quickly returned, saying, \"The Lady said: \"Tell Morgaine to goat once to the House of Maidens, and I will speak to her when the proper time comes.\"\"\n\nFora moment, anger surged in Morgaine so great that she came near to shoving the woman out of the way and forcing herself into Viviane's house. But awe still held her. She did not know what the penalty would be fora priestess who defied her sworn obedience, but through her flooding anger, a small, cold rational voice told her that she really did not want to find out this way. She drew along breath, composing her face into the proper demeanor fora priestess, bowed obediently, and went away. The tears she had forced back, hearing church bells on the Lake, were beginning to breakthrough, and fora moment she wished, wearily, that she could let them come. Now at long last, alone in the House of Maidens, in her own quiet room, she could weep if she must; but the tears would not come, only bafflement and pain and the anger which she had noway to express. It was as if her entire body and soul were locked into one great knot of anguish.\n\nIT WAS TEN DAYS before Viviane sent for her; the full moon that had shone on the triumph of the Horned One had dwindled in the sky to a sickly dying splinter. By the time one of the young priestesses brought a message that Viviane required her presence, Morgaine had given way to smoldering anger." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She has played upon meas I would play upon the harp." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The words rang so in her mind that at first, hearing harp music from inside Viviane's dwelling, she thought it the echo of her own bitter thoughts. Then she thought that Viviane was playing. But in the years she had been in Avalon she had learned much of music, and she knew the sound of Viviane's harp; the older woman was, at best, an indifferent player.\n\nShe listened now, wondering in spite of herself who the musician was. Taliesin? Before he was the Merlin, she knew, he had been the greatest of bards, renowned throughout the length of Britain. She had heard him play often enough on the great feast days, and for the most solemn of rituals; but now his hands were old. Their skill was not diminished, but even at his best he had never made such sounds as these-this was anew harper, one she knew she had never heard before. And she knew, even before she saw it, that this was a larger harp than even Taliesin played, and the strange Musician's fingers spoke to the strings as if he had enchanted them.\n\nViviane had once told her some old tale from afar-off country, a tale of a bard whose strings had made the ring stones circle in their own dance and the trees drop their leaves in mourning, and when he went down into the country of the dead, the stern judges there relented and let his beloved dead go forth. Morgaine stood motionless outside the door as everything that was in her faded into the music. Suddenly she felt that all the weeping she had held back in the ten days past might come upon her again, that her rage might dissolve, if she let it, into tears which would wash it all away, leaving her weak as any girl. Abruptly she thrust the door back and entered without ceremony." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Taliesin the Merlin was there, but he was not playing; his hands were clasped attentively in his lap as he bent forward, listening. Viviane too, in her simple house robes, was seated, not in her accustomed seat, but further from the fire; she had given the seat of honor to the strange harper.\n\nHe was a young man, in the green robe of a bard; smooth-shaven in the Roman fashion, his curling hair darker than rusted iron. His eyes were deep-set under a forehead which seemed almost too big for him, and though Morgaine for some reason had expected them to be dark, they were instead an unexpected piercing blue. He frowned at the interruption, his hands stopping in the middle of a chord.\n\nViviane too looked displeased, but ignored the discourtesy. \"Come here, Morgaine, and sit by me. I know you are fond of music, and I thought you would like to hear Kevin the Bard.\"\n\n\"I was listening outside.\"\n\nThe Merlin smiled. \"Come and listen, then. He is new to Avalon, but I think perhaps he may have much to teach us.\"\n\nMorgaine went and sat on the little seat beside Viviane. The Lady of the Lake said, \"My kinswoman Morgaine, sir; she too is of the royal line of Avalon. You see before you, Kevin, she who will be Lady herein years to come.\"\n\nMorgaine made a startled movement; never before had she known that this was what Viviane planned for her. But anger drowned out her rush of gratification. She thinks she can say a kind or flattering word and I will rush to lick her feet like a bitch puppy!\n\n\"May that day be far distant, Lady of Avalon, and may your wisdom long continue to guide us,\" said Kevin smoothly. He spoke their language as if he had learned it well-she could just tell that it was not his own; a little hesitation and thought before the words, although the accent was almost flawless. Well, he had a musician's ear, after all. He was, Morgaine surmised, about thirty, perhaps a little more. But she did not look too closely at him after that first quick surprise at the blueness of his eyes; her gaze was bent on the great harp at his knee." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As she had guessed, it was somewhat larger than even the harp Taliesin played at the great festivals. It was made of a dark-reddish, gleaming wood, completely unlike the pale willow wood from which the harps of Avalon were fashioned, and she wondered if it was this which had given it the silken brilliant tone. The bowed edge curved in a line as graceful as a cloud, the pegs were carved of a curious pale bone, and it was painted and adorned with runic letters strange to Morgaine, who had learned, like any educated woman, to read and write in Greek characters. Kevin followed her close scrutiny and looked somewhat less displeased as he said, \"You are admiring my lady.\" He ran his hands caressingly over the dark wood. \"I named her so when she was built for me-she was the gift of a king. She is the only woman, whether maiden or matron, whose caresses never weary me and of whose voice I never tire.\"\n\nViviane smiled at the harper. \"Few men can boast of so loyal a mistress.\"\n\nHis smile was a cynical twist. \"Oh, like all women, she will respond to whatever hand caresses her, but I think she knows that I can best make her thrill to my touch, and being like all women lecherous, I am sure she loves me best.\"\n\nViviane said, \"It sounds tome as if you had no good opinion of women who are flesh and blood.\"\n\n\"Why, so I have not, Lady. Save for the Goddess-\" He spoke the words with a faint lilt, not quite mockery. \"I am content to have no mistress but My Lady here, who never chides me if I neglect her, but is always the same sweet paramour.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Perhaps,\" said Morgaine, raising her eyes, \"you treat her rather better than you treat a woman of flesh and blood, and she rewards you as is your due.\"\n\nViviane frowned, and Morgaine knew she had trespassed by this bold speech. Kevin raised his head suddenly from the harp and met Morgaine's eyes. Fora moment he held her gaze, and she was astonished at his bitter hostility and with it, the sense that he understood something of her rage, had known his own and fought through it.\n\nHe might have spoken, but Taliesin nodded to him, and he bent his face again over the harp. Now she noticed that he played it differently from most harpers, who held their small instruments across their body, playing with the left hand. He set his harp between his knees, and leaned forward to it. It startled her, but as the music began to fill the room, like moonlight rippling from the strings, she forgot the strangeness of it, saw his face change and grow quiet and distant, without the mockery of his words. She decided that she liked him better when he played than when he spoke.\n\nThere was no other sound in the room, only the harping that filled it to the rafters, as if the listeners had stilled even their breathing. The sound swept away all else, and Morgaine dropped her veil over her face and let the tears come. It seemed that in the music she could hear the flooding of the spring tides, the sweet awareness that had filled her body as she lay that night in the moonlight, awaiting the coming of the dawn. Viviane reached out to her and, as she had done when Morgaine was only a child, took her hand, gently stroking her fingers one after another. Morgaine could not stop her tears. She raised Viviane's hand to her lips and kissed it. She thought, with a crushing sense of loss, Why, she is old, she has grown old since I came here... always before this, Viviane had seemed to her ageless, unchanging, like the very Goddess herself. Ah, but I too have changed, I am no longer a child... once she told me, when I came here, that a day would come when I would hate her as much as I loved her, and I could not believe it then.... She struggled against her weeping, afraid she would make some sound which would betray her and, even more, interrupt the flood of music. She thought, No, I cannot hate Viviane, and all her rage melted into sorrow so great that fora moment she thought she would break into the fiercest weeping. For herself, for the changes in herself, for Viviane who had been so beautiful, the very face of the Goddess, and who was now nearer to the Death-crone, and for the knowledge that she too, like Viviane, with the relentless years would one day herself come to stand as the crone; for the day she had climbed the Tor with Lancelet and lain therein the sun, hungering for his touch without clearly knowing what it was she wanted; and for something which had gone from her, irrevocably. Not virginity alone, but a trust and belief she would never know again. And Morgaine knew that beside her Viviane, too, was weeping silently behind her veil." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She glanced up." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kevin was motionless, only his fingers alive on the strings; then the sighing madness of the music shivered into silence, he raised his head, and his fingers swept the strings, plucking them gaily to a merry tune, one sung by the barley sowers in the fields, with a dancing rhythm, and words that were far from decorous. This time he sang. His voice was strong and clear, and Morgaine, undercover of the dancing music, sat up and began to watch his hands, pushing her veil aside and contriving to wipe away the betraying tears as she did so.\n\nThen she noticed that for all their skill, there was something strangely amiss with his hands. They seemed somehow misshapen, and studying them, she noted that one or two of the fingers lacked a second joint, so that he played deftly with the stubs, and that the little finger was missing entirely from his left hand; and all along the hands, beautiful and supple as they seemed when he moved them, were odd discolorations. Ashe set down the harp, leaning to steady it, his sleeve fell away from his wrist, and she could see hideous white patches there, like the scars of burns or some ghastly mutilating wounds. Now that she looked on him closely, she could see that his face had a fine network of scars along chin and jawline. He saw her staring and raised his head, meeting her eyes again and holding them with a hard, angry stare. Morgaine looked away, flushing; after the music which had searched her very soul, she would not have wounded his feelings.\n\n\"Well,\" Kevin said abruptly, \"My lady and I are always glad to sing to those who love her voice, but I do not suppose you called me here entirely to entertain you, madam; nor you, my lord Merlin.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Not entirely,\" said Viviane in her rich, low voice, \"but you have given us a delight I shall remember for many years.\"\n\n\"And I,\" Morgaine said. She felt as shy now before him as she had been bold before. Nevertheless she went forward, to look more closely at the great harp, and said, \"I have never seen one made after this fashion.\"\n\n\"That I can well believe,\" Kevin said, \"for I had it made after my own design. The harper who taught me my craft threw up his hands in horror as if I had blasphemed his Gods, and swore it would make an unholy clamor, fit only to frighten away enemies. Like the great war harps, twice as tall as a man, that were dragged on carts up the hills in Gaul, and left therein the wind to make ghostly noises, so that they say even the legions of Rome were frightened. Well, I played one of those war harps, and a grateful king gave me leave to have a harp made exactly as I chose-\"\n\nTaliesin broke in. \"He speaks the truth,\" he said to Viviane, \"though I did not believe it when I heard it first-what man and mortal could play one of those monsters?\"\n\n\"I did it,\" Kevin said, \"and so the king had my lady made for me. I have a smaller one to the same design, but not so fine.\"\n\n\"Indeed it is beautiful,\" Morgaine said. \"What are the pegs? Are they seal bone?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"They are carved, so I am told, from the teeth of a great beast that lives in the warm countries far to the south,\" he said. \"I only know that the material is fine and smooth, yet hard and durable. It is more costly than gold, though less gaudy.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You do not hold it as I have ever seen a harp played-\"\n\n\"No,\" Kevin said with his twisted smile, \"I have but small strength in my arms, and I had to experiment to find how I could best do so. I saw you look at my hands. When I was six years old, the house where I lived was burned over my head by the Saxons, and I was pulled out too late. No one thought I would live, but I surprised them all, and since I could neither walk nor fight, they set me in a corner and decided that with my broken hands\"-he spread them out quite dispassionately before him-\"perhaps I could learn to spin and weave among the women. But I showed small disposition for that, and so one day an old harper came by, and in return fora bowl of soup, set himself to amuse a cripple. When he showed me the strings, I tried to play. And I did make music, after a fashion, so he got his bread that winter and the next by schooling me to play and sing, and said he could put me in the way of earning a livelihood with my music. And so for ten years I did nothing but sit in the corner and play, until my legs at length grew strong enough that I could learn to walk again.\" He shrugged, and pulled a length of cloth from behind him, wrapping up the harp in it and sliding it into a leather case embroidered with signs. \"And then I became harper to a village, and at length to a king. When the old king died, his son had no ear for music, and I thought it best to get well out of the kingdom before he began to look covetously at the gold on my harp. Then I came to the Druid isle, and there I studied bardcraft, and at last I was sent to Avalon-and here I find myself,\" he added, with a final shrug, \"but still you have not told me why you bade me attend you, Lord Merlin, nor these ladies.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Because,\" said the Merlin, \"I am old, and the events we set in motion this night may not come into their full flower for another generation." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And when that time comes, I shall begone.\"\n\nViviane leaned forward and said, \"Have you had warning, Father?\"\n\n\"No, no, my dear. I would not waste the Sight on such a matter; we do not consult the Gods to tell if the next winter will bring snowfalls. And as you brought Morgaine here, so I brought Kevin the Bard, so that there maybe one younger than myself to follow what may happen when I am gone. So hear my news: Uther Pendragon lies dying at Caerleon, and where the lion falls, there the kites will gather. And we have had word brought to us that there is a great army massing in the Kentish countries, where the treaty people have decided that now is the moment to rise and take the rest of Britain from us. They have sent for mercenaries from the mainland, north of Gaul, to join them in overthrowing our people and undoing what Uther has done. And this is the time for all our people to fight behind the banner we have worked so many years to raise. There is not much time-they must have their king and have him now. There is not another moon to waste, or they will be upon us. Lot wants the throne, but the Southmen will not follow him. There are others-Duke Marcus from Cornwall, Uriens in North Wales-but not one of them can gain the support outside his own lands, and we could well be like the donkey who starved to death between two bales of fodder, not knowing which to eat first.... We must have the Pendragon's son, young though he is.\"\n\nKevin said, \"I had never heard that the Pendragon had a son. Or has he recognized that son his wife bore to Cornwall, soon after they were married? Uther must have been in unseemly haste to marry, if he could not even wait until she bore her child before taking her to his bed-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Viviane raised her hand. \"The young prince is the son of Uther,\" she said, \"none may doubt it, nor will doubt it when they see him.\"\n\n\"Is it so? Then Uther did well to hide him away,\" Kevin said, \"for his son by another man's wife-\"\n\nViviane gestured him to silence. \"Igraine is my sister, and she is of the royal line of Avalon. This son of Uther and Igraine is the one whose coming was foretold, the king who was and will be. Already he has taken the antlers and been crowned over the Tribes-\"\n\n\"What king in Britain, do you think, will accept some boy of seventeen to be High King?\" Kevin asked skeptically. \"He could be brave as the fabled Cuchulain and they would want a warrior of greater skill.\"\n\n\"As for that, he has been schooled to war, and to the work of a king's son,\" Taliesin said, \"though he knows not that his blood is royal. But I think the full moon just past gave him a sense of his destiny. Uther was honored above any king before his time; this lad Arthur will set his state even higher. I have seen him on the throne. The question is not, will they accept him, but what can we do to set him about with all the majesty of the High King, so all the warring kings will join hands against the Saxon instead of against one another!\"\n\n\"I have found the way to do that,\" Viviane said, \"and at the new moon it shall be done. I have a sword for him, a sword out of legend, never before wielded by a living hero.\" She paused a moment, then said slowly, \"And for that sword, I shall exact from him a pledge. I shall swear him to be true to Avalon, despite whatever the Christians may do. Then perhaps the tide will turn, and Avalon will return from the mists, and it is the monks and their dead God who will go into the shadows and the mists, while Avalon shines again in the light of the outer world.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"An ambitious plan,\" said Kevin, \"but if in truth the High King of Britain were sworn to Avalon-\"\n\n\"This has been planned since before he was born.\"\n\nTaliesin said slowly, \"The boy has been fostered a Christian. Will he take such an oath?\"\n\n\"How real is the talk of Gods to a boy, compared to a legendary sword with which to lead his people, and the fame of great deeds?\" Viviane shrugged. \"Whatever may come of it, we have gone too far to stop now; we are all committed. In three days the moon will be new again, and at that auspicious time he shall have the sword.\"\n\nTHERE WAS LITTLE MORE to say. Morgaine sat quietly listening, both excited and appalled. She had been in Avalon too long, she thought, too long concealed among the priestesses with her mind on holy things and the secret wisdom. She had forgotten that there was a world outside. Somehow it had never really come home to her that Uther Pendragon, her mother's husband, was High King of all Britain, and that her brother would be so someday. Even, she thought with a twist of that new cynicism, with the stain of doubt on his birth. Perhaps the rival kings would even welcome a candidate who had no loyalty to any of their parties and factions, a son of the Pendragon, handsome and modest, who could serve as a symbol round whom they all rallied. A candidate, for High King moreover, who had already been accepted by the Tribes, and by the Pict folk, and by Avalon... and then Morgaine flinched, remembering the part she had had in that. This brought her anger back, so that when Taliesin and Kevin rose to go, she remembered why she had wanted, ten days ago, when it was fresh in her mind, to confront Viviane with her rage." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kevin's harp in its ornamented leather bag was difficult to carry, being so much larger than other harps, and when he was burdened with its weight he looked awkward, one knee stiff and afoot dragging. Ugly, she thought, an ugly grotesque man; but when he plays, who would think so? There is more to this man than any of us knows. And then she remembered what Taliesin had said; she knew that she looked on the next Merlin of Britain, as Viviane had called her next Lady of the Lake. The pronouncement brought no elation, although if Viviane had said it before that journey which had changed her life, she would have been proud and excited. Now it seemed shadowed by the thing which had happened to her.\n\nWith my brother, my brother. It did not matter when we were priest and priestess, God and Goddess joining under the power of ritual. But in the morning, when we wakened and were man and woman together... that was real, that was in.\n\nViviane was standing at the door, watching them move away. \"Fora man with such injuries, he moves well. It is fortunate for the world that he survived them and that he was not set as a beggar in the street, or to weaving rush mats in the market. Such skill as that one has should not be hidden in obscurity, or even in the court of a king. A voice and hands like that belong to the Gods.\"\n\n\"He is gifted, certainly,\" Morgaine said, \"but I wonder-is he wise? The Merlin of Britain must be not only learned and gifted but wise as well. And-virtuous.\"\n\n\"I leave that to Taliesin,\" Viviane said. \"What shall be, must be; it is not mine to order.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And suddenly Morgaine's wrath overflowed. \"Are you truly acknowledging that there is anything on the face of this earth which you feel is not yours to order, Lady? I thought you believed that your will was the will of the Goddess, and all of us puppets to serve you!\"\n\n\"You must not talk this way, my child,\" Viviane said, looking at her in astonishment. \"You can hardly mean to be so insolent tome.\"\n\nIf Viviane had responded to her words with arrogance, it would have hardened Morgaine's anger into explosion; the gentleness baffled her. She said, \"Viviane, why?\" and felt, shamefully, that tears would rise again to choke her.\n\nNow Viviane's voice was cold. \"Did I leave you for too long among the Christians, after all, with their talk of sin?\" she said. \"Think, child. You are of the royal line of Avalon; so too is he. Could I have given you to a commoner? Or, could the High King to come be so given?\"\n\n\"And I believed you when you said-I believed it was the doing of the Goddess-\"\n\n\"Why, so it was,\" said Viviane gently, not understanding, \"but even so, I could not give you to anyone unworthy of you, my Morgaine.\" Her voice was tender. \"He was so young when you parted-I thought he would never have recognized you. I regret that you recognized him, but after all, you would have had to know sooner or later. And he need not know fora longtime.\"\n\nMorgaine said, tightening her body against rage, \"He knows already. He knows. And he was more horrified, I think, than I was.\"\n\nViviane sighed. \"Well, there is nothing we can do about that now,\" she said. \"Done is done. And at this moment the hope of Britain is more important than your feelings.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine turned away and did not wait to hear more.\n\nThe moon was dark in the sky; at this time, so the young priestesses were told in the House of Maidens, the Goddess veils her face from mankind, taking counsel of the heavens themselves and the Gods which lie behind the Gods we know. Viviane too kept seclusion at moon-dark, her privacy guarded by two young priestesses.\n\nMost of that day she kept her bed, lying with closed eyes, and wondering if she was, after all, what Morgaine thought her-drunk with power, believing that all things were at her command to play with as she thought good.\n\nWhat I have done, she thought, I have done to save this land and its people from rapine and destruction, a reversion to barbarism, a sacking greater than Rome suffered from of the Goths.\n\nShe longed to send for Morgaine, hungering for their old closeness. If indeed the girl came to hate her, it would be the heaviest price she would ever pay for anything she had done. Morgaine was the one human being she had ever wholly loved. She is the daughter I owed the Goddess. But, done is done and cannot be called back. The royal line of Avalon must not be contaminated by commoner blood. She thought of Morgaine with a sorrowful hope that one day the young woman would understand; but whether or no, Viviane knew she had done what she must, no more.\n\nShe slept little that night, sliding off into chaotic dreams and visions, thinking of the sons she had distanced from her, of the world outside into which the young Arthur had ridden at Merlin's side; had he come in time to his dying father? For six weeks Uther Pendragon had lain ill in Caerleon, sinking, then rallying; but it seemed unlikely that he could live much longer." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "As the dawn neared, she rose and dressed herself, so silently that neither of her attendant priestesses stirred. Did Morgaine sleep in the House of Maidens, or did she too lie awake with heavy heart, or weep? Morgaine had never wept before her, until that day when Kevin's harp had stirred their hearts, and even then she had concealed her tears.\n\nDone is done! I cannot spare her. But with all my heart I wish there had been some other way....\n\nShe went out silently into the garden behind her dwelling. Birds were waking; apple blossoms, soft and sweet-scented, drifted from the trees which had given Avalon its name.\n\nThey will bear fruit in time to come, as what I do now will bear fruit in its own season. But I shall blossom nor bear fruit no more. The burden of the years lay heavy on her mind. I grow old; even now, at times, the Sight fails me, the Sight I am given to guide this land.\n\nHer own mother had not lived to be so old. The time would come-indeed, was almost upon her-when she must lay down her burden and her holy office, giving over the real rulership of Avalon to the next Lady, standing behind her in shadows as the wise-woman-or the Old Deathcrone herself.\n\nMorgaine is not yet ready. She still lives by the world's time, and she can still tremble and weep for what cannot be avoided. Her mind ran over the roster of priestesses, the young and the old, in Avalon. There was none to whom she could entrust the rulership of this land. Morgaine would someday grow to that stature; but not yet. Raven-Raven might have had that strength.. But Raven had given her voice to the Gods; Raven was for the divine madness of the worlds beyond, not for the sober counsel and judgment of this one. What would come to Britain, if she should die before Morgaine\" was grown to her full powers?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Overhead the sky was still dark, although in the east the mist was lightening with the dawn. As she watched, the light grew; the red clouds formed slowly, twisting into the shape of a red dragon, coiling along the whole horizon. Then a great shooting star flamed along the sky, paling the form of the red dragon; its brilliance blinded Viviane fora moment, and when she could see again, the red dragon was gone and the shifting clouds were white with the rising sun.\n\nViviane felt shivers raking her spine. A portent like this was not seen twice in a lifetime-the whole of Britain must be alive with it. So passes Uther, she thought. Farewell to the dragon who has spread his wings over our coast. Now will the Saxons be loosed upon us.\n\nShe sighed and then, without warning, there was a ripple in the air, and a man stood before her in the garden. She trembled, not with the fear which a house-bred woman might feel of an intruder-Viviane had no fear of any man living-but because it had been long since she had experienced a true Sending of this kind. A vision which intruded on her, unsummoned, must be of great power.\n\nPower like the shooting star, a portent such as has not been seen in my lifetime...\n\nFora moment she did not recognize the man who stood before her; wasting illness had greyed the fair hair, shrunk the broad shoulders, and stooped the spine; the skin was yellowed and the eyes sunken with pain. Even thus, Uther Pendragon seemed, as always, larger than most men; and though there was little sound in the enclosed garden, so that she heard the twittering birds through his voice-yes, and saw the blossoming trees through his body-it seemed that he spoke as always to her, harshly, without warmth." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So, Viviane, we meet for the last time. There is a bond between us, not one I would have desired; we have not been friends, sister-in-law. But I trust to your vision, for what you spoke came always true. And you are the only one to make it sure that the next High King of Britain can take what is rightfully his.\n\nNow she saw that across his breast was the mark of a great wound. How had it come about that Uther Pendragon, lying sick in Caerleon, had died of a wound and not of his long illness?\n\nI died as a warrior would die; the treaty troops broke their faith again, and my armies could not stand against them until I had myself carried, to show myself on the field. Then they rallied, but Aesc, the Saxons' chief-I will not grant that wild savage the name of king-broke through, and slew three of my guard; and I killed him before his bodyguard could kill me. But we won that battle. The next battle will be for my son. If he comes to the throne.\n\nViviane heard herself say aloud, through the silence, \"Arthur is King through the old royal line of Avalon. He needs no Pendragon blood to take as rightful place as High King.\"\n\nBut this, which would have made the living Uther burst out in wrath, only called forth the wry smile, and for the last time she seemed to hear his voice.\n\nI doubt not it would take more even than your magic, sister-in-law, to make the lesser kings of Britain see that. You may think scorn of the Pendragon's blood, but it is upon that Merlin must call to put Arthur on my throne.\n\nAnd then, before her eyes, the form of Uther Pendragon faded, and before her stood another man whom the living Viviane had seen only in dreams. And in a searing moment, Viviane knew why no man had ever been more to her than duty, or a path to power, or a night's pleasure; fora moment she stood in a land drowned before the ring stones on the Tor were raised, and about her arms she wore twining golden serpents... the faded crescent burned like a great horned moon between her brows, and she knew him, with a knowledge that went beyond time or space.... She cried aloud, with a great mourning cry for all that she had never known in this life, and the agony of a bereavement unguessed till this moment. Then the garden was empty and birds twittered mindlessly in the damp silence of the mists that concealed the rising sun." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And faraway in Caerleon, Igraine, knowing herself widowed, cries out for her love... it is hers to mourn him now.... Viviane caught for support against the dew-drenched bark of the great tree, and leaned against it, wrung with unexpected sorrow. He had never known her. He had disliked her, had never trusted her until the very moment of his death, when the mortal disguise of one lifetime fell away. Goddess be merciful... a lifetime gone and I never knew him... gone, gone again, and will I know him again when we meet or will we walk blinded again, passing each other by as strangers? But there was no answer, only silence, and Viviane could not even weep.\n\nIgraine will weep for him... I cannot....\n\nQuickly she collected herself. This was no time to stand and mourn fora love like a dream within a dream; time began to move for her again, and she looked back on the vision with a faint dismay. She could find no grief in her now for the dead man, nor anything except exasperation; she might have known that he would manage to die at the most inconvenient time possible, before he had time to proclaim his son to the rival kinglets all striving for the crown of the High King. Why had he not stayed in Caerleon, why had he given into the pride which had led him to show himself one more time in battle? Had he even seen his son, had the Merlin arrived in time?\n\nThe Sending had gone beyond recall; there was noway to summon it back and ask mundane questions. Uther had indeed come to her at the moment of his death-it was just as well Igraine would never know that. But he was gone.\n\nViviane glanced skyward. There was no sign yet of the crescent moon in the sky; perhaps she still might see something in her mirror. Should she call Raven? No, there was no time for that, and Raven might not consent to break her silence fora vision of affairs in the world outside. Morgaine? She shrank from meeting Morgaine's eyes." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Collaborate with the author and advance the plot.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 3" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And faraway in Caerleon, Igraine, knowing herself widowed, cries out for her love... it is hers to mourn him now.... Viviane caught for support against the dew-drenched bark of the great tree, and leaned against it, wrung with unexpected sorrow. He had never known her. He had disliked her, had never trusted her until the very moment of his death, when the mortal disguise of one lifetime fell away. Goddess be merciful... a lifetime gone and I never knew him... gone, gone again, and will I know him again when we meet or will we walk blinded again, passing each other by as strangers? But there was no answer, only silence, and Viviane could not even weep.\n\nIgraine will weep for him... I cannot....\n\nQuickly she collected herself. This was no time to stand and mourn fora love like a dream within a dream; time began to move for her again, and she looked back on the vision with a faint dismay. She could find no grief in her now for the dead man, nor anything except exasperation; she might have known that he would manage to die at the most inconvenient time possible, before he had time to proclaim his son to the rival kinglets all striving for the crown of the High King. Why had he not stayed in Caerleon, why had he given into the pride which had led him to show himself one more time in battle? Had he even seen his son, had the Merlin arrived in time?\n\nThe Sending had gone beyond recall; there was noway to summon it back and ask mundane questions. Uther had indeed come to her at the moment of his death-it was just as well Igraine would never know that. But he was gone.\n\nViviane glanced skyward. There was no sign yet of the crescent moon in the sky; perhaps she still might see something in her mirror. Should she call Raven? No, there was no time for that, and Raven might not consent to break her silence fora vision of affairs in the world outside. Morgaine? She shrank from meeting Morgaine's eyes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Will she live all her life as I have done, with a heart dead inside her body?\n\nShe drew along shuddering breath and turned to leave the garden. It was still very damp and cold; the sunrise was still hidden in mist. There was none to see as she walked swiftly up the secret way toward the Holy Well where she bent to drink, flinging her hair back, cupping her hands to the water. Then she went to the mirror pool. For so many years she had served the shrine here that she had come to take for granted her power of vision; but now, unlike herself, she prayed.\n\nGoddess, do not take the power from me, not yet, not fora little while. Mother, you know I do not ask it for myself, only that this land maybe safe until I can place it into the hands which I have prepared to safeguard it.\n\nFora moment, she saw only the ripples across the pool's water and clenched her hands as if she could force vision. Then, slowly, images began to form: she saw the Merlin going up and down the length of the land on his hidden ways, now as a Druid and Bard, as befitted the Messenger of the Gods; now as an old beggar or peddler, or as a simple harper. The face began to shift and change, and she saw Kevin the Bard, now in the white robes of the Messenger of Avalon, now in a nobleman's dress, confronting the Christian priests... and there was a shadow behind his head, he was circled in shadows, the shadow of the oak grove, the shadow of the cross; she saw him with the sacred cup of the Druid regalia... she saw the young Arthur, his brow still stained with the blood of the stag he had fought and slain, and Morgaine laughing, crowned with flowers, her face marked with blood.... She did not want to see it, and willed ferociously to turn her eyes away, but dared not break the flow of the visions. She saw a Roman villa, and Arthur standing between two boys-one washer own Lancelet, her younger son; she supposed the older was Arthur's foster-brother, Caius, the son of Ectorius... she saw Morgause surrounded by her sons; one by one they knelt at Arthur's feet. Then she saw the Avalon barge, draped in black like a pall, and Morgaine in the prow, only Morgaine was older... older, and weeping." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Impatiently, Viviane passed her handover the surface of the water. This was no time to stand here, seeking guidance from visions which seemed to bear no meaning for the moment. She walked quickly down the hill toward her dwelling and summoned her attendant priestesses.\n\n\"Dress me,\" she said curtly, \"and send for the Merlin; he must ride for Caerleon, and bring the young Arthur tome here before the moon is more than a day old in the sky. There is no time to waste.\"\n\nBut Arthur did not come with the new moon to Avalon.\n\nMorgaine, in the House of Maidens, saw the new moon born, but she did not break the moon-dark fast. She felt faint, and knew that if she ate she would only be sick. Well, perhaps it was to be expected. She sometimes felt this way when her monthly courses were about to begin; later she would feel better. And later in the day she did feel better, and drank a little milk, and ate some bread; and that afternoon, Viviane sent for her.\n\n\"Uther lies dead in Caerleon,\" she said. \"If you feel you must go to your mother-\"\n\nFora short time Morgaine considered that, but at last she shook her head. \"I had no love for Uther,\" she said, \"and Igraine knows it well. The Goddess grant that some of her priestly counselors may comfort her better than I could.\"\n\nViviane sighed. She looked tired and worn, and Morgaine wondered if she, too, felt sick with the aftermath of the stressful time of the moon's darkening. Viviane said, \"Sorrow that I must say it, but I fear you are right. I would have spared you to her, if need be. There would be time for you to return to Avalon, before-\" She broke off and then said, \"You know that Uther, in his lifetime, kept the Saxons at bay, though with constant battle; we have not had more than a few moons of peace at anytime. Now, I fear, it will be worse; they may come even to the doors of Avalon. Morgaine, you are full priestess, you have seen the sacred weapons-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine replied with a sign, and Viviane nodded and said, \"A day may come when that sword must be lifted in defense of Avalon and of all of Britain too.\"\n\nMorgaine thought, Why say this tome? I am priestess, not warrior; I cannot take the sword in defense of Avalon.\n\n\"You remember the sword.\"\n\nBarefoot, cold, tracing the circle with the weight of the sword in her hand, hearing Raven, the silent, cry aloud in terror...\n\n\"I remember.\"\n\n\"Then I have a task for you,\" Viviane said. \"When that sword is carried into battle, it must be circled with all the magic we have. You are to fashion a scabbard for the sword, Morgaine, and set into it every spell 1 you know, that he who bears it into battle shall lose no blood. Can you do that?\"\n\nI had forgotten, Morgaine thought, that there might be a task fora priestess as well as a warrior. And, with her trick of following a thought, Viviane said, \"So you, too, shall have apart in the battle to defend our country.\"\n\n\"So be it,\" Morgaine said, wondering why Viviane, who was the great priestess of Avalon, did not take this task for herself. The older woman gave her no answer, but said, \"For this you must work with the sword before you; come, and Raven shall serve you, within the silence of magic.\"\n\nAlthough she tried to remember that she was only a vessel of power and not the power itself, that the power itself came from the Goddess, Morgaine was young enough to feel exalted when she was conducted in silence to the secret place where work like this must be done, and surrounded by the priestesses who were to anticipate her every need so that she might not break the silence which would build the necessary power for the setting of spells. The sword was laid on a linen cloth before her; beside it, the low-brimmed chalice, fashioned of silver with gold beading around the edge. It was filled with water from the Holy Well; not for drinking-food and water were set aside for her-but that she might look into it and see within it such things as were needful for the work she must do." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "On the first day, she cut, using the sword itself, an undersheath of thin doeskin. It was the first time she had had fine tools to work with, and she took pleasure in the special iron needle she had been given to stitch the sheath together; she took a pride which she knew was childish in that when she pricked her finger once or twice she did not utter even a momentary cry. She could not restrain a little caught breath of pure pleasure when she was shown the priceless piece of deepest crimson velvet, dyed with colors which, she had once been told, cost more money for an ounce than would buy a villa and hire men to work the land on it fora year. This would cover the doeskin, and on it she must work, in the golden and silken threads provided, the magical spells and their symbols.\n\nFashioning the shapes of doeskin sheath and velvet to cover it, she spent the first day; and before she slept, deep in the meditation of what she must do, almost in trance, she cut her arm a little and smeared the doeskin with her blood.\n\nGoddess! Great Raven! Blood has been shed upon this scabbard, so that none need be spilt upon it when it is carried into battle.\n\nShe slept fitfully, dreaming that she sat on a high hill overlooking all of Britain and stitched spells, weaving them like visible light into the fabric of the earth itself. Below her the King Stag was running, and a man came striding up the hill to her, and took the sword from her hand....\n\nShe woke with a start, thinking: Arthur! It is Arthur who will bear the sword, he is the son ofPendragon... and as she lay in the darkness, she thought that was why Viviane had given it to her, to make the magical scabbard for the sword he should bear in symbol of all his people. It was Arthur who had shed the blood of her virginity, and it was she, also of the sacred line of Avalon, who must fashion the spell-scabbard of his safety, guarding the royal blood." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All that day, in silence, she worked, gazing into the chalice, letting the images rise, now and then stopping to wait for inspiration in the meditative flow; she worked the horned moon, so that the Goddess should always watch over the sword and guard the sacred blood of Avalon. She was so wrapped in the magical silence that every object on which her eyes gazed, every movement of her consecrated hands, became power for the spell; it seemed at times as if visible light followed her fingers as she followed the horned moon with the full moon, and then with the dark moon, for all things must follow in season. Then, because she knew that a High King in Britain must rule in a Christian land, and because when first the followers of the Christ had come to Britain they had come hereto the Druids, she worked in the symbol of Christian and Druid in friendship, the cross within the three-winged circle. She worked into the crimson velvet the signs of the magical elements, of earth and air and water and fire, and then figured the low-handled cup before her, in which visions moved and entwined, coming in and out of darkness: wand and earth platter, serpent of healing and wings of wisdom and the flaming sword of power... there were times when it seemed that needle and thread moved through her own flesh or through the flesh of the land, piercing earth and sky and her own blood and body... sign upon sign and symbol upon symbol, each marked with her blood and with the water of the Holy Well. Three days in all she worked, sleeping little, eating only a few bites of dried fruit, drinking only the water of the Well. There were times when, from a great distance within her own mind, she seemed to lookout on her fingers working without any conscious choice, the spells wove themselves, blood and bone of the land, blood of her maidenhood, strength of the King Stag who had died and shed his blood so that the champion might not die....\n\nBy sunset of the third day it was finished, every inch of the scabbard covered with twining symbols, some of which she did not even recognize; surely they had come directly from the hand of the Goddess through her hands? She lifted it, slid the sword into it; weighted it in her hands; then said aloud, breaking the ritual silence, \"It is done.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Now that the long tension was broken she was aware that she was exhausted, shaken and sick. Ritual and prolonged use of the Sight could do this; it had, no doubt, interrupted her courses too, for they usually came on at moon-dark. This was said to be lucky, for the priestesses went apart to shield their power at this time, and it was the same as the ritual seclusion of the dark moon, when the Goddess herself secluded herself to safeguard the source of power.\n\nViviane came and took the scabbard. She could not suppress a little cry of astonishment as she looked upon it, and indeed it seemed even to Morgaine, who knew her own hands had fashioned it, to be a thing surpassing human work, pregnant with magic. Viviane touched it only briefly before wrapping it in along, white silken cloth.\n\n\"You have done well,\" she said, and Morgaine thought, her mind spinning, How is it that she thinks she can judge me? I too am a priestess, I have gone beyond her teaching... and was shocked at her own thought.\n\nViviane touched her cheek gently. \"Go and sleep, my dearest; you have wearied yourself in this great work.\"\n\nMorgaine slept deeply and long, without dreams; but after midnight, suddenly, she woke to the sudden wild clamor of alarm bells, alarm bells, church bells, a terror out of childhood, The Saxons are upon us! Getup and arm yourselves!\n\nIt seemed that she woke out of a start, and she was not in the House of Maidens, but in a church, and on the altar stone of the church lay a set of weapons; and on a trestle nearby lay a man in armor, covered with a pall. Above her head the warning was still pealing and clamoring, fit to wake the dead... no, for the dead knight did not stir, and with a sudden prayer for forgiveness, she snatched up the sword... and woke fully this time, to light in her room, and quiet. Not even the church bells from the other island penetrated the quiet of her stone-floored chamber. She had dreamed the bells, the dead knight, and the chapel with burning tapers, the arms on the altar, the sword, all of it. How did I come to see that? The Sight never comes upon me undesired... was it just a dream then?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Later that day, she was summoned; with her conscious mind, she remembered some of the visions which had floated half-seen through her mind as she wrought the scabbard with the sword before her. Fallen to earth in a falling star, a clap of thunder, a great burst of light; dragged still smoking to be forged by the little dark smiths who had dwelled on the chalk before the ring stones were raised; powerful, a weapon fora king, broken and reforged this time into the long, leaf-shaped blade, tooled and annealed in blood and fire, hardened... a sword three times forged, never ripped out of the earth's womb, and thus twice holy....\n\nShe had been told the name of the sword: Excalibur, which meant cut steel. Swords of meteorite iron were rare and precious; this one might well be the price of a kingdom.\n\nViviane bade her cover herself with her veil and come. As they moved slowly down the hillside, she saw the tall figure of Taliesin, the Merlin, Kevin the Bard at his side, moving with his hesitant, grotesque walk. He seemed more than ever clumsy and ugly, as out of place as a lump of tallow clinging to the edge of a fine-wrought silver candlestick. And at their side-Morgaine froze, recognizing that slender muscular body, that shining silver-gilt hair.\n\nArthur. But of course she had known the sword was for him. What was more natural than that he should come hereto receive it?\n\nHe is a warrior, a king. The little brother I held upon my lap. It seemed unreal to her. But through that Arthur, and the solemn-faced boy who walked now between the two Druids, she saw some trace of the youth who had taken upon himself the antlers of the Horned God; quiet and grave as he was, she saw the swing of the antlers, the deadly desperate fight, and how he had come to her bloodied with the stag's blood-no child but a man, a warrior, a king." }, { "from": "human", "value": "At a whisper from the Merlin he bent the knee before the Lady of the Lake." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His face was reverential. No, of course, she thought, he has not seen Viviane before, only me, and I was in darkness.\n\nBut he saw Morgaine next; she saw recognition move across his mobile features. He bowed to her too-at least, she thought irrelevantly, where he was fostered they taught him manners befitting a king's son-and murmured, \"Morgaine.\"\n\nShe bowed her head to him. He had known her even through the veil. Perhaps she should kneel to the King. But a Lady of Avalon bends the knee to no human power. Merlin would kneel, and so would Kevin if he were asked; Viviane, never, for she was not only the priestess of the Goddess, but incorporated the Goddess within herself in away the man-priests of male Gods could never know or understand. And so Morgaine also would never kneel again.\n\nThe Lady of the Lake held out her hand to him, bidding him rise. \"You have had along journey,\" she said, \"and you are wearied. Morgaine, take him to my house and give him something to eat before we do this.\"\n\nHe smiled then, not a king in the making, nor a Chosen One, but just a hungry boy. \"I thank you, Lady.\"\n\nInside Viviane's house he thanked the priestesses who brought him food, and fell to hungrily. When he had satisfied his first hunger, he asked Morgaine, \"Do you live here too?\"\n\n\"The Lady dwells alone, but she is attended by the priestesses who serve her in turns. I have dwelt herewith her when it was my turn to serve.\"\n\n\"You, a queen's daughter! You serve?\"\n\nShe said austerely, \"We must serve before we command. She herself served in her youth, and in her I serve the Goddess.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He considered that. \"I do not know this Great Goddess,\" he said at last. \"The Merlin told me that the Lady was your... our... kinswoman.\"\n\n\"She is sister to Igraine, our mother.\"\n\n\"Why then, she is my aunt,\" Arthur said, trying the words oat on his tongue as if they didn't quite fit. \"All of this is so strange tome. Somehow I always tried to think of Ectorius as my father and Flavilla my mother; Of course I knew there was some secret; and because Ectorius wouldn't talk tome about it, I thought it must be something shameful, that I was a bastard or worse. I don't remember Uther-my father; not at all. Nor my mother, not really, though sometimes, when Flavilla punished me, I used to dream I lived somewhere else, with a woman who petted me, then pushed me away-is Igraine our mother much like you?\"\n\n\"No, she is tall, red-haired,\" Morgaine said.\n\nArthur sighed. \"Then 1 suppose I do not remember her at all. For in my dreams it was someone like you-it was you-\"\n\nHe broke off, his voice had been trembling. Dangerous ground, Morgaine thought, we dare not talk about that. She said calmly, \"Have another apple; they are grown on the island.\"\n\n\"Thank you.\" He took one and bit into it. \"It's all so new and strange. So many things have happened tome since-since-\" His voice faltered. \"I think of you all the time. I cannot help myself. It was true what I said, Morgaine-that all my life I shall remember you because you were the first, and I shall always think of you and love you-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "She knew she should say something hard and hurtful." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Instead she made her words kind, but distant. \"You must not think of me in that way. For you I am not a woman, but a representative of the Goddess who came to you, and it is blasphemy to remember meas if I were only a mortal woman. Forget me and remember the Goddess.\"\n\n\"I have tried-\" He broke off, clenching his fists, then said gravely, \"You are right. That is the way to think of it-only one more of the strange things that have come tome since I was sent for from Ectorius'house. Mysterious, magical things. Like the battle with the Saxons-\" He held out his arm, rolling back the tunic to reveal a bandage thickly smeared with pine-pitch already blackened. \"I was wounded there. Only it was like a dream, my first battle. King Uther-\" He looked down and swallowed. \"I came too late. I never knew him. He lay instate in the church, and I saw him dead, his weapons lying on the altar-they told me it was the custom, that when a brave knight lay dead, his arms should watch with him. And then, even while the priest was chanting the Nunc Dimittis, all the alarm bells rang, there was a Saxon attack-the watchmen came right into the church and snatched the bell ropes out of the hands of the monk who was tolling the passing bell to ring the alarm, and all the King's men caught up their arms and ran out. I had no sword, only my dagger, but I snatched up a spear from one of the soldiers. My first battle, I thought, but then Cai-my foster-brother, Caius, Ectorius'son-he told me he had left his sword behind at their lodging, and I should run and fetch it for him. And I knew this was just away to get me out of the battle; Cai and my foster-father said I was not yet ready to be blooded. So instead of running back to the lodging house I went into the church and snatched the King's sword off the stone bier.... Well,\" he defended himself, \" he fought Saxons with it for twenty years, he'd certainly be glad to have it fight them again, instead of lying useless on an old stone! So Iran off and was going to give it to Cai as we were all gathering against the attack, and then I saw the Merlin, and he said in the biggest voice I have ever heard," }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Where got you that sword, boy?\"\n\n\"And I was angry because he'd called me boy, after what I'd done on Dragon Island, and I told him it was a sword for fighting Saxons, not for lying around on old stones, and then Ectorius came up and saw me with the sword in my hand, and then he and Cai both knelt down in front of me, just like that! I felt so strange-I said to him, \"Father, why are you kneeling, why do you make my brother kneel like that? Oh, getup, this is terrible,\" and the Merlin said in that awful voice, \"He is the King, it is right he should have the sword.\" And then the Saxons came over the wall-we heard their horns-and there was no time to talk about swords or anything else; Cai grabbed up the spear and I hung onto the sword and off we went. I don't remember much about the battle-I suppose you never do. Cai was hurt-badly hurt in the leg. Afterward, while the Merlin was bandaging up my arm, he told me who I really was. Who my father had been, that is. And Ectorius came and knelt and said he would be a good knight tome as he had to my father and to Ambrosius, and I was so embarrassed... and the only thing he asked me was that I'd make Cai my chamberlain when I had a court. And of course I said I'd be glad to-after all, he's my brother. I mean, I'll always think of him as my brother. There was a lot of fuss about the sword, but the Merlin told all the kings that it was fate that had made me take it from the stone, and I tell you, they listened to him.\" He smiled, and Morgaine felt a surge of love and pity at his confusion." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The bells that had waked her... she had seen, but she had not known what she saw.\n\nShe dropped her eyes. There would always be a bond between them now. Would any blow which struck him always fall like this, a sword into her naked heart?\n\n\"And now it seems I am to get another sword,\" Arthur said. \"From having no sword at all, suddenly I have two special ones!\" He sighed and said almost plaintively, \"I don't see what all this has to do with being a king.\"\n\nAS OFTEN AS she had seen Viviane in the robes of the High Priestess of Avalon, Morgaine had never grown used to the sight. She saw Arthur look back and forth between them, and saw the likeness mirrored in his eyes. He was silent, awed once more. At least, thought Morgaine, feeling an empty sickness again, they did not make him keep the magical fast. Perhaps she should have eaten with him, but the thought of food made her feel queasy. Prolonged work with magic could do that; no wonder Viviane was so emaciated.\n\n\"Come,\" Viviane said, and leading the way-the Lady of Avalon, in her own place, preceded even a king-she passed from the house and along the shores of the Lake and into the building where the priests were housed. Arthur walked quietly at Morgaine's side, and for an instant she half expected him to reach out his hand as he had done when he was very little, clinging to hers... but now that little hand she had held was a warrior's hand, bigger than her own, hardened with long practice at swordplay and with other weapons. Behind Arthur and Morgaine came the Merlin, and at his side Kevin.\n\nDown a narrow flight of steps they went, and the dank smell of underground surrounded them. Morgaine did not see anyone strike alight, but suddenly there was a tiny glow in the darkness and a pale light flared around them. Viviane stopped, so abruptly that they jostled into her, and for an instant Morgaine was surprised that she felt simply soft and small, an ordinary woman's body, not a remote image of the Goddess. The Lady reached out and took Arthur's wrist in her small dark hand; it did not come near to reaching around his." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Arthur, son of Igraine of Avalon and of Pendragon, rightful King of all Britain,\" she said, \"behold the most sacred things in all your land.\"\n\nThe light flared on gold and jewels in cup and platter, the long spear, the crimson and gold and silver threads of the scabbard. And from the scabbard, Viviane drew forth the long, dark blade. Dimly, stones glinted in its hilt.\n\n\"The sword of the Sacred Regalia of the Druids,\" she said quietly. \"Swear now tome, Arthur Pendragon, King of Britain, that when you come to your crown, you will deal fairly with Druid as with Christian, and that you will be guided by the sacred magic of those who have set you on this throne.\"\n\nArthur reached for the sword, his eyes wide; Morgaine could see it in his eyes-that he knew what manner of sword this was. Viviane made a quick gesture, preventing him.\n\nIt is death to touch the holy things unprepared,\"she said.\" Arthur, swear. With this sword in your hand, there is no chieftain or king, pagan or Christian, who will stand against you. But this is no sword fora king who is bound to hear only the Christian priests. If you will not swear, you may depart now, bearing such weapons as you can get from your Christian followers, and the folk who look to Avalon for their rule shall follow you only when we bid them to do so. Or will you swear, and have their allegiance through the sacred weapons of Avalon? Choose, Arthur.\"\n\nHe stared at her, frowning a little, the pale light glinting on his hair,\| which looked almost white. He said, \"There can be only one ruler in this land; I must not be ruled from Avalon.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Nor must you be ruled by the priests who would make you a pawn of their dead God,\" said Viviane quietly. \"But we will not urge you. Choose whether or no you will take this sword, or refuse it and rule in your own name, despising the help of the Old Gods.\"\n\nMorgaine saw that strike home-the day when he had run among the deer and the Old Gods had given him victory, so that he was acclaimed king\| among these people, the first to acclaim him. He said quickly, \"God forbid I should despise-\" and stopped, swallowing hard. \"What must I swear, Lady?\"\n\n\"Only this: to deal fairly with all men, whether or no they follow the God of the Christians, and always to reverence the Gods of Avalon. For whatever the Christians say, Arthur Pendragon, and whatever they may call their God, all the Gods areas one God, and all the Goddesses but one Goddess. Swear only to be true to that truth, and not to cling to one and despise another.\"\n\n\"You have seen,\" said the Merlin, his voice deep and resonant in the' silence, \"that I do truly reverence the Christ and that I have knelt at the altar and shared their sacred meal.\"\n\nArthur said, troubled, \"Why, that's true, my lord Merlin. And you, I think, are the councillor I shall trust more than any other. Do you bid me swear, then?\"\n\n\"My lord and king,\" said Taliesin, \"you are young for this rule, and perhaps your priests and bishops would presume to keep the conscience even of a king. But I am not a priest; I am a Druid. And I say only that wisdom and truth are not the special property of any priest. Ask your own conscience, Arthur, if it would be wrong to swear to deal fairly with all men and whatever Gods they worship, instead of swearing allegiance to one only.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Arthur said quietly, \"Well then, I will swear, and take the sword.\"\n\n\"Kneel, then,\" Viviane said, \"in token that a king is but a man, and a priestess, even a high priestess, no more than a woman, but that the Gods are over us all.\"\n\nArthur knelt. The light on his fair hair, Morgaine thought, was like a crown. Viviane laid the sword in his hand; his fists closed around the hilt. He drew along breath.\n\n\"Take this sword, my king,\" Viviane said, \"and bear it injustice. This sword was not made of iron raped from the body of the earth, our mother; it is holy, forged of metal which fell from the heavens, so long ago that even the tradition of the Druids keeps no accurate account of the years, for it was forged before there were Druids in these islands.\"\n\nArthur rose, the sword in his hand.\n\n\"Which do you like better?\" asked Viviane. \"The sword or the scabbard?\"\n\nArthur looked admiringly at the richly worked scabbard, but he said, \"I am a warrior, my lady. The scabbard is beautiful, but I like the sword better.\"\n\n\"Even so,\" Viviane said, \"keep the scabbard always by you; it was wrought with all the magic of Avalon. While you bear that scabbard, even though you take a wound, you will not shed enough blood to endanger your life; it is set about with blood-stanching spells. It is a rare and precious thing, and magical.\"\n\nHe smiled, saying-almost laughing with the breaking of the long tension-\"Would I had had it when I took this wound against the Saxons; I bled like a sheep in the slaughterhouse!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You were not then a king, my lord. But now the magical scabbard will protect you.\"\n\n\"Even so, my king,\" said the melodious voice of Kevin the Bard, shadowed behind the Merlin, \"however much you trust in the scabbard, I advise you to get yourself arms masters and cease not to practice with weapons!\"\n\nArthur chuckled as he belted on sword and scabbard. \"Never doubt it, sir. My foster-father had me taught to read by an old priest who read tome from one of the Gospels, how the Devil tempted the Lord Jesus, telling him that God had given him angels to watch over him; and Jesus said that it was ill done to tempt God. And a king is no more than flesh and blood-remember, I took my first sword from where Uther was lying dead. Don't think I shall tempt God that way, Lord Druid.\"\n\nSomehow, with the sword of the Sacred Regalia belted at his waist, Arthur seemed taller, more impressive. Morgaine could see him crowned and robed as a king, seated upon his high seat... and fora moment, around him, it seemed that the small room was thronged with other men, shadowy, armed, richly clad, noble, standing around him closely, his Companions... then they were gone, and he was only a young man again, smiling uncertainly, wearing his rank a little uneasily as yet.\n\nThey turned and left the underground chapel. But before they passed completely out of the room, Arthur turned back fora moment to look at the other things of the regalia, lying in shadow. His uncertainty could be seen on his face, the almost visible question, Did I do right, am I blaspheming( he God I was taught to worship as the only One?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The voice of Taliesin was low and gentle." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Know you my dearest wish, my lord and king?\"\n\n\"What, Lord Merlin?\"\n\n\"That one day-not now, for the land is not yet ready for it, and neither are those who follow Christ-but one day, Druid and priest should worship as one; that within their great church, their sacred Eucharist should be celebrated with yonder cup and dish to hold their bread and wine, in token that all the Gods areas One.\"\n\nArthur crossed himself, and said, almost in a whisper, \"Amen to that, Lord Merlin, and Holy Jesus make it possible one day in these islands.\"\n\nMorgaine felt the prickling up and down her forearms, and heard herself say, without knowing that she spoke until the Sight spoke through her, \"That day will come, Arthur, but not as you think. Beware about how you bring that day to pass, for it maybe a sign to you that your work is done.\"\n\nArthur said, in a hushed voice, \"If that day should ever come to pass, Lady, then indeed it will be a sign tome that I have done what I came to the throne to do, and I am content to have it so.\"\n\n\"Beware what you speak,\" said the Merlin very softly, \"for indeed the words we speak make shadows of what is to come, and by speaking them we bring them to pass, my king.\"\n\nMorgaine blinked as they came into the sunlight. She swayed on her feet and Kevin reached out a hand to steady her.\n\n\"Are you ill, my lady?\"\n\nShe shook her head impatiently, willing the blurring behind her eyes to vanish. Arthur looked at her, troubled. But then they were all in the sunshine, and his mind returned to the business at hand." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am to be crowned at Glastonbury, on the Isle of the Priests. If it is possible for you to leave Avalon, Lady, will you be there?\"\n\nViviane smiled at him and said, \"I think not. But the Merlin shall go with you. And Morgaine shall see your crowning if you wish, and she wishes,\" she added, and Morgaine wondered why the Lady spoke so, and why she was smiling. \"Morgaine, my child, will you go with them in the barge?\"\n\nMorgaine bowed. She stood in the prow as the boat moved toward shore, bearing now only Arthur and the Merlin, and as it neared shore, she saw several armed men awaiting him. She saw the awe in their eyes as the draped boat of Avalon appeared quite suddenly from the mists, and one of them she recognized. Lancelet had not changed from that day two years ago, only he was taller, more handsome, dressed richly in dark crimson, bearing sword and shield.\n\nHe recognized her as well, and bowed. \"Cousin,\" he said.\n\n\"You know my sister, the lady Morgaine, Duchess of Cornwall, priestess of Avalon,\" said Arthur. \"Morgaine, this is my dearest friend, our cousin.\"\n\n\"We have met.\" Lancelet bent over her hand, and again, through the uneasy sickness in her, Morgaine felt a sudden thrust of that longing that would never really leave her.\n\nHe and I were meant, one for the other; I should have had the courage that day, even though it meant the breaking of avow... she could see in his eyes that he remembered, in the tenderness with which he touched her hand.\n\nThen she sighed, raised her eyes, and was introduced to the others." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My foster-brother Cai,\" Arthur said. Cai was big and dark and Roman to the core, and she saw as he spoke to Arthur, with natural deference and affection, that here indeed Arthur had two strong chiefs to lead his armies. The other knights were introduced as Bedwyr, Lucan, and Balin, which name made Morgaine, and the Merlin too, lift their eyes in surprise: this was foster-brother to Viviane's older son, Balan. Balin was fair-haired and broad-shouldered, in ragged clothing, but he moved as gracefully as his half-brother Lancelet. His dress was poor but his weapons and armor were bright and well kept, and looked well used.\n\nMorgaine was content to leave Arthur to his knights; but first he raised her hand to his lips ceremoniously and kissed it.\n\n\"Come to my crowning if you can, sister,\" he said.\n\nA few days later Morgaine went forth, with a few of the people of Avalon, to the crowning of Arthur. Never, in all her years upon Avalon-except for the few moments when she had opened the mists to allow Gwenhwyfar to find her convent again-had she set foot on the earth of the Isle of the Priests, Ynis Witrin, the Isle of Glass. It seemed to her that the sun shone with a curious harshness, unlike the soft and misty sunlight of Avalon. She had to remind herself that to almost all the people of Britain, this was the real world, and the land of Avalon only an enchanted dream, as if it were the very kingdom of fairy. To her, Avalon alone was real, and this last but a harsh dream from which, for some reason, she did not now waken." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All the space before the church seemed to have sprouted colorful tents and pavilions, like strange mushrooms. To Morgaine it seemed that the bells of the churches rang day and night, hour upon hour, a jangling sound that oppressed her nerves. Arthur greeted her, and for the first time she Ectorius, the good knight and warrior who had fostered her brother his wife, Flavilla.\n\nFor this venture into the world outside, at Viviane's advice, Morgaine had laid aside the blue robes of an Avalon priestess and the spotted deerskin overtunic, and had put on a simple dress of black wool, with linen underdress in white, and a white veil over her braided hair. Soon she realized that this made her look like a matron; among the British women, young maidens went with their hair unbound and wore dresses dyed in bright colors. They all took her for one of the women from the nunnery on Ynis Witrin, near to the church, where the sisters wore such somber robes; Morgaine said nothing to undeceive them. Nor, although he lifted his eyebrows and grinned at her, did Arthur.\n\nTo Flavilla he said, \"Foster-mother, too many things are to be done-the priests want to speak tome of my soul, and the King of Orkney and the King of North Wales want audience with me. Will you take my sister to our mother, then?\"\n\nTo our mother, Morgaine thought; but that mother has become a stranger to us both. She looked in her mind for any joy in this meeting and found none. Igraine had been content to let both her children go, the child of her first joyless marriage, the lovechild of her second; what manner of woman could she be then? Morgaine found that she was stiffening her mind and heart against the first sight of Igraine. I do not, she thought, even remember her face." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yet when she did see Igraine, she realized that she would have known her anywhere.\n\n\"Morgaine!\" She had forgotten, or remembered only in dreams, how rich and warm was Igraine's voice. \"My darling child! Why, you area woman grown, I see you always in my heart as a little maiden-and how worn and sleepless you look-has all this ceremony been heavy on you Morgaine?\"\n\nMorgaine kissed her mother, again feeling tears choking at the back of her throat. Igraine was beautiful, and she herself-again words from a half-memory flooded her mind: little and ugly like one of the fairy folk-did Igraine think her ugly too?\n\n\"But what is this?\" Igraine's light hands touched the crescent on her brow. \"Painted like one of the fairy people-is this seemly, Morgaine?\"\n\nMorgaine's voice was stiff. \"I am a priestess of Avalon, and I wear the mark of the Goddess with pride.\"\n\n\"Fold your veil over it then, child, or you will offend the abbess. You are to lodge with me in the nunnery.\"\n\nMorgaine set her mouth hard. Would the abbess, if she came to Avalon keep her cross out of sight for fear of offending me, or the Lady? \"I do not wish to offend you, Mother, but it would not be suitable for me to lodge within the walls of a nunnery; the abbess would not like it, nor would the Lady, and I am under the Lady's orders and live under her laws.\" The thought of dwelling within those walls even for the three nights of the crowning, called to come and go, night and day, by the hellish jangling of those bells, made her blood run cold." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Igraine looked troubled. \"Well, it shall be as you wish. Perhaps you could be lodged with my sister, the Queen of Orkney. Do you remember Morgause?\"\n\n\"I will be glad to have my kinswoman Morgaine,\" said a soft voice, and Morgaine looked up to seethe very image of her own mother as she remembered her from her own childhood: stately, robed richly in bright silks, with jewels and hair braided into a bright coronal on her brow. \"Why, you were such a little girl, and now you are grown, and a priestess!\" Morgaine was folded into a warm and scented embrace. \"Welcome, kinswoman, come here and sit by me. How does our sister Viviane? We hear great things of her, that she is the moving force behind all the great events which have brought Igraine's son to the throne. Even Lot could not stand against one backed by the Merlin and the fairy folk and all the Tribes and all the Romans. And so your little brother is to be king! Will you come to court, Morgaine, and advise him, as Uther would have been well advised to have the Lady of Avalon do?\"\n\nMorgaine laughed, relaxing into Morgause's embrace. \"A king will do as seems good to him, that is the first lesson which all who come near him must know. I suppose Arthur is like enough to Uther to learn that without much lessoning.\"\n\n\"Aye, there is not much doubt who had his fathering now, for all the talk there was about it then,\" Morgause said, and drew breath in swift compunction. \"No, Igraine, you must not weep again-it should be joy to you, not sorrow, that your son is so much like his father, and accepted everywhere in all of Britain because he has pledged himself to rule all the lands and peoples.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Igraine blinked; she had, Morgaine thought, been doing overmuch weeping in the last days." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She said, \"I am happy for Arthur-\" but her voice choked and she could not speak again. Morgaine stroked her mother's arm, but she felt impatient; always, always, ever since she could remember, her mother had had no thought for her children, only for Uther, Uther.... Even now when he was dead and lay in his grave, her mother would push her and Arthur aside for the memory of the man she had loved enough to make her forget everything else. With relief she turned back to Morgause.\n\n\"Viviane said you had sons-\"\n\n\"True,\" Morgause said, \"though most of them are still young enough to be here among the women. But the oldest is hereto pledge loyalty to his king. Should Arthur die in battle-and not even Uther was immune to that fate-my Gawaine is his nearest kinsman, unless you already have a son, Morgaine-no? Have the priestesses of Avalon embraced chastity like nuns, then, that at your age you have given the Goddess neither son nor daughter? Or have you shared your mother's fate and lost many children at birth? Forgive me, Igraine-I did not mean to remind you-\"\n\nIgraine blinked back tears. \"I should not weep against God's will; I have more than many women. I have a daughter who serves the Goddess to whom I was reared, and a son who will tomorrow be crowned with his father's crown. My other children are-in the bosom of Christ.\"\n\nName of the Goddess, thought Morgaine, what away to think of a God, with all the generations of the dead dinging to him! She knew it was only away of speaking, a comfort to a sorrowing mother, yet the blasphemy of the idea troubled her. She remembered that Morgause had asked her a question and shook her head." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No, I have borne no children, Morgause-until this year at Beltane I was kept virgin for the Goddess.\" She stopped abruptly; she should say no more. Igraine, who was more Christian than Morgaine could have believed, would have been horrified at the thought of the rite in which she had played the part of the Goddess for her own brother.\n\nAnd then a second horror swept over her, worse than the first, so that she felt a wave of sickness follow in its wake. It had come about at full moon, and though the moon had waned and filled and waned again, her moon-dark bleeding had not yet come upon her, nor showed any sign it was about to do so. She had been relieved that she would not have this nuisance at the crowning, and had thought it was reaction to the great magic; no other explanation had suggested itself to her until this moment.\n\nA rite for the renewal and fertility of crops and land, and of the wombs of the women of the tribe. She had known that. Yet such had been her blindness and her pride, she had thought that perhaps the priestess, the Goddess, would be exempted from the purpose of this ritual. Yet she had seen other young priestesses sicken and grow pale after these rites, until they began to bloom with their own ripening fruit; she had seen the children born, had brought some of them to birth with her own trained priestess-hands. Yet never once, in her stupid blindness, had it entered her mind that she too might come away from the ritual with a womb grown heavy.\n\nShe saw Morgause's sharp eyes on her, and deliberately drew along breath and yawned to cover her silence. \"I have been travelling since daybreak,\" she said, \"and have not breakfasted; I am hungry.\" And Igraine apologized and sent her women for bread and barley beer which Morgaine forced herself to eat, though the food made her feel faintly sick and now she knew why." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Goddess!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Mother Goddess! Viviane knew this might come about, yet she did not spare me! She knew what must be done, and done as quickly as possible; yet it could not be done in the three days of Arthur's crowning, for she had no access to the roots and herbs she could find in Avalon, and furthermore she dared not be sick now. She felt herself shrinking from the violence and sickness, yet it must be done, and done without delay, or in Midwinter she would bear a son to her own mother's son. Furthermore, Igraine must know nothing of it-the thought would strike her as evil beyond imagining. Morgaine forced herself to eat, and to talk of small things, and gossip like any woman.\n\nBut her mind did not rest as she talked. Yes, the fine linen she wore had been woven in Avalon, there was no linen anywhere like it, perhaps it was the flax of the Lake, which grew stronger, longer fibers, and whiter than anywhere else. But in her heart she was thinking, Arthur, he must never know, he has enough to weigh his heart at this crowning. If I can bear this burden and keep silence to give his heart ease, I will do so. Yes, she had been taught to play the harp-why, how foolish, Mother, to think it was wrong fora woman to make music. Even if one of the Scriptures did say that women were to keep silence in the church, it was shocking to think that the ears of God could be offended with the voice of a woman singing his praises; had not his own Mother lifted up her voice to sing praises when she knew she was to bear a child by the Holy Spirit? Then, when Morgaine took the harp in her hands and sang for her mother, beneath the refrain lay despair, for she knew as well as Viviane that she was to be the next Lady of Avalon, and she owed the Goddess a daughter at least. It was impious to cast out a child conceived under the Great Marriage. But how could she do anything else? The Mother of the Christian God had rejoiced in the God that had given her a child, but Morgaine could only rage in silent bitterness against the God who had taken the form of her unknown brother.... She was used to living her life on two levels at once, but even so the effort made her lips pale and her voice strained, and she was glad when Morgause cut her short." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Morgaine, your voice is lovely, I hope to hear it at my own court. And Igraine, I hope to see you many times before the crowning feast is ended, but I must return and see how my babe is cared for. I have no love for convent bells and much praying, either, and Morgaine looks weary with travelling. I think I shall take her away to my tents and make her lie down, so she will be fresh in the morning to see Arthur crowned.\"\n\nIgraine hardly troubled to conceal her relief. \"Yes, I should beat the noonday office,\" she said. \"You know, both of you, that when Arthur is crowned I shall dwell in the nunnery at Tintagel in Cornwall. Arthur asked me to remain with him, but soon, I hope, he will have a queen of his own, and no need of me.\"\n\nYes, they would insist that Arthur be wedded, and soon. Morgaine wondered which of these petty kings would manage the honor of being the king's father-in-law. And my son might have been the heir to a crown... no. No, I will not even think of that.\n\nAnd again bitter anger overcame her, like choking; why, why had Viviane done this to her? To set all this in motion, so that they two, Arthur and Morgaine, might play out some mummery of Gods and Goddesses... was it no more than that?\n\nIgraine kissed and embraced them both, promising to see them again afterward. As they walked along the path toward the brilliant array of pavilions, Morgause said, \"Igraine is so changed I would not have known her-who would ever have thought she would grow so pious? No doubt she will end her days as the terror of a whole sisterhood of nuns, and, although I grieve to say it, I must rejoice I am not one of them. I have no call to a nunnery.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Morgaine forced herself to smile and say, \"No, I suppose not; marriage and motherhood seem to have agreed with you." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You blossom like the wild roses of the hedge, Aunt.\"\n\nMorgause smiled lazily. \"My husband is good tome, and it suits me well to be a queen,\" she said. \"He is one of the Northmen, and so he does not think it wrong to take counsel of a woman, as these fools of Romans do. I hope Arthur has not been all spoilt by dwelling in a Roman household-it might have made him mighty in war, but if he despises the Tribes he will not rule. Even Uther was wise enough to know that and to have himself crowned on Dragon Island.\"\n\n\"So was Arthur,\" said Morgaine. It was all she could say.\n\n\"True. I have heard something of that, and I think he is wise. As for me, I am ambitious; Lot seeks my counsel, and all goes well in our land. The priests are very sour about me and say I do not keep my place as befits a woman-no doubt they think I am some kind of evil sorceress or witch, because I do not sit modestly at my spinning and weaving. But Lot thinks little of the priests though his people are Christian enough... to tell the truth, most of them care not whether the God of this land is the white Christ, or the Goddess, or the Horned One, or the Horse God of the Saxons, so long as their crops grow and their bellies are full. I think that is just as well-a land ruled by priests is a land filled with tyrants on Earth and in Heaven. Uther leaned a bit too far in that direction these last years, if you ask me. The Goddess grant that Arthur has more sense.\"\n\n\"He swore to deal justly by the Gods of Avalon, before Viviane gave him the sword of the Druids.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Did she so?\" Morgause said. \"Now I wonder what brought that to her mind? But enough of Gods and kings and all of that-Morgaine, what ails you?\" And, when Morgaine did not answer, \"Do you think I can't tell a breeding woman when I see one? Igraine did not see it, but she has eyes now only for her grief.\"\n\nMorgaine forced herself to say lightly, \"Well, it might be so; I went to the rites at Beltane.\"\n\nMorgause chuckled. \"If that was your first time, you might not know fora moon or so, but good fortune to you. You are already past your best childbearing years-at your age I had three. I would not advise telling Igraine-she is far too Christian to accept a child to the Goddess now. Ah well, I suppose all women grow old in time. Viviane too must be well on in years now. I have not seen her since Gawaine was born.\"\n\n\"She seems much the same tome as always,\" Morgaine said.\n\n\"And so she did not come to Arthur's crowning. Well, we can manage without her. But I do not think she will be content to stay long in the background. One day, I doubt it not, she will put her will to seeing the cauldron of the Goddess rather than the sharing-cup of the Christian's love feast on our altar at court, and I won't weep when that day comes, either.\"\n\nMorgaine felt a prophetic shiver as she saw in her mind the robed priest raising the cup of the Mysteries before the altar of Christ; and clearly before her eyes then she saw Lancelet, kneeling, alight on his face such as she had never seen... she shook her head to clear it of the unwanted Sight." }, { "from": "human", "value": "THE DAY OF ARTHUR'S CROWNING dawned brilliant and shining." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All night they had come, from the length and breadth of Britain, to seethe High King crowned hereon the Isle of the Priests. There were crowds of the little dark people; Tribesmen clad in skins and checkered cloth and adorned with the dull-colored stones from the North, red-haired and tall and bearded; and more than any other, the Roman peoples of the civilized lands. And there were tall, fair, broad-shouldered men, Angles and Saxons from the treaty troops who had been settled south in Kent, and had come to renew the broken allegiance. The slopes were lined solid; even at Beltane festivals Morgaine had never seen so many people in one place, and she felt frightened.\n\nShe herself had a privileged place, with Igraine, Lot, Morgause and her sons, and the family of Ectorius. King Lot, slender and dark and charming, bent over her hand and embraced her and made a great show of calling her kinswoman'and\" niece,\" but Morgaine, looking behind the superficial smile, saw the sullen bitterness in Lot's eyes. He had schemed and intrigued to prevent this day. Now his son Gawaine was to be proclaimed Arthur's nearest heir; would that satisfy his ambition, or would he continue to work to undermine the authority of the High King? Morgaine slitted her eyes at Lot and discovered she did not like him at all.\n\nThen the bells rang from the church and a cry went up all along the slopes overlooking the flatland before the church, and out of the church door a slender youth was walking, the sun glinting on his shining hair. Arthur, thought Morgaine. Their young king, like a hero out of legend, with that great sword in his hand. Although she could hear no words from where she sat, she saw the priest place on his head Uther's slender golden circlet." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Arthur raised the sword in his hand and said something she could not hear. But it was repeated from mouth to mouth, and when she heard it, Morgaine felt the same thrill she had felt, seeing him come victorious and crowned from the victory over the King Stag.\n\nFor all the peoples of Britain, he had said, my sword for your protection, and my hand for justice.\n\nThe Merlin came forward in his white robes of state; next to the venerable Bishop of Glastonbury, he looked mild and gentle. Arthur bowed briefly to them both, taking each of them by the hand. The Goddess put it into his head to do that, Morgaine thought-and in a moment she heard Lot saying as much.\n\n\"Damned clever, that, to set the Merlin and the Bishop side by side, in token that he'll be advised by both!\"\n\nMorgause said, \"I don't know who had the teaching of him, but believe me, Uther had no foolish son.\"\n\n\"It is our turn,\" Lot said, rising to his feet, holding out his hand to Morgause. \"Come, Lady; don't mind worrying that old crew of greybeards and priests. I've no shame to confess you sit at my side as my equal in all things. Shame to Uther that he didn't do likewise with your sister.\"\n\nMorgause's smile twisted. \"Perhaps it is our good fortune that Igraine had not the strength of will to insist on it.\"\n\nMorgaine rose to her feet, driven by a sudden impulse, and went forward with them. Lot and Morgause motioned her courteously to precede them. Though she did not kneel, she bowed her head slightly. \"I bring you the homage of Avalon, my lord Arthur, and of those who serve the Goddess.\" Behind her she could hear the priests murmuring, see Igraine among the black-robed sisters from the convent. She heard Igraine as if her mother had spoken: Bold, forward, she was headstrong even as a child. She forced herself not to hear. She was a priestess of Avalon, not one of those housebound hens of God!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I welcome you, for yourself and for Avalon, Morgaine.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Arthur took her by the hand, and placed her near where he stood. \"I do you all honor as the only other child of my mother, and Duchess of Cornwall in your own right, dear sister.\" He released her hand and she bent her head to keep herself from fainting, because her eyes had blurred and her head swam. Why must I feel like this now? Arthur's doing. No, not his, the doing of the Goddess. It is her will, not ours.\n\nLot stepped forward, kneeling before Arthur, and Arthur raised him. \"Welcome, dear Uncle.\"\n\nThat same dear Uncle, Morgaine thought, who if I am not mistaken would gladly have seen him die as an infant.\n\n\"Lot of Orkney, will you keep your shores against the Northmen, and come to my aid if the shores of Britain are threatened?\"\n\n\"I will, kinsman, I swear it.\"\n\n\"Then Ibid you keep the throne of Orkney and Lothian in peace, and never will I claim it or fight against you for it,\" said Arthur, and bent slightly to kiss Lot on the cheek. \"May you and your lady rule well and long in the North, kinsman.\"\n\nLot, rising, said, \"I beg leave to present you a knight for your company; I beg you to make him one of your Companions, Lord Arthur. My son Gawaine-\"\n\nGawaine was big, tall and strongly built, rather like a male version of Igraine and Morgause herself. Red curls crowned his head, and though he was not much older than Arthur himself-in fact, Morgaine thought, he must have been a little younger, for Morgause had not wedded Lot until Arthur was born-he was already a young giant, six feet tall. He knelt before Arthur, and Arthur raised him and embraced him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Welcome, cousin." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I will gladly make you the first of my Companions; I hope you will join and be welcomed by my dearest friends,\" he said, and nodded to the three young men standing atone side. \"Lancelet, Gawaine is our cousin. This is Cai, and this Bedwyr; they are my foster-brothers. Now I have Companions, even as did that Alexander of the Greeks.\"\n\nMorgaine stood and watched all that day as kings from allover Britain came to pledge fealty to the throne of the High King and swear to join him in war and to defend their shores. Fair-haired King Pellinore, lord of the Lake Country, came to bend the knee before Arthur and beg to take leave even before the end of the feasting.\n\n\"What, Pellinore?\" said Arthur, laughing. \"You, who I thought would be my staunchest supporter here, to desert me so soon?\"\n\n\"I have had news from my homeland, Lord, that a dragon is raging there; I would swear to follow it until I have killed it.\"\n\nArthur embraced him and handed him a gold ring. \"I will keep no king from his own people when they have need of him. Go and see to the killing of the dragon, then, and bring me its head when you have killed it.\"\n\nIt was nearing sunset when at last all the. kings and gobies who had come to swear allegiance to their High King had finished. Arthur was no more than a boy, but he stood through the long afternoon with unflagging courtesy, speaking to each person who came as if he had been the first. Only Morgaine, trained in Avalon to read faces, could seethe traces of weariness. But at last it was over, and servants began to bring the feast." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine had expected Arthur to sit down to dine among the circle of youths he had appointed as his Companions; it had been along day he was young, and he had done his duty with concentrated attention all day. Instead, he sat among the bishops and eldest kings of his father's Council-Morgaine was pleased to see that the Merlin was among them. After all, Taliesin was his own grandsire, although she was not sure that Arthur knew that. When he had eaten (and he stuffed himself like a hungry boy who was still growing)-he rose and began to make his way among the guests.\n\nIn his plain white tunic, adorned only with the slender gold coronet, he stood out among the brightly dressed kings and nobles like a white deer in the dark forest. His Companions came at his side: the huge young Gawaine, and Cai, dark, with Roman, hawklike features and a sardonic smile-as he came closer Morgaine saw chat he had a scar at the corner of his mouth, still red and ugly, which drew his face up into an ugly leer. I was a pity; he had probably been good-looking before that Lancelet, next to him, looked pretty as a girl-no; something fierce, masculine and beautiful, perhaps a wildcat. Morgause looke at him with a greedy eye.\n\n\"Morgaine, who is that beautiful young man-the one beside Cai and Gawaine, the one in crimson?\"\n\nMorgaine laughed. \"Your nephew, Aunt; Viviane's son Galahad. But the Saxons named him Elf-arrow, and mostly he is called Lancelet.\"\n\n\"Who would have thought that Viviane, who is so plain, should have such a handsome son! Her older son Balan-now he is not handsome; rugged, strong and hearty, and trustworthy as an old dog, but he is like Viviane. No one alive could call her beautiful!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The words cut Morgaine to the heart." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I am said to be like Viviane; does, everyone think me ugly, then? That girl said, little and ugly as one of the fairy folk. She said coldly, \"I think Viviane very beautiful.\"\n\nMorgause snickered. \"It is easy to see you have been reared m Avalon, which is even more isolated than most nunneries. I do not think you know what men desire for beauty in a woman.\"\n\n\"Come now,\" said Igraine soothingly, \"there are virtues other than beauty. This Lancelet has his mother's eyes, and no one has ever denied that Viviane's eyes are beautiful; Viviane has so much charm that no one knows or cares whether or no she is beautiful, only that she has pleased them with her beautiful eyes and her fine voice. Beauty is not only in queenly stature and a fair complexion and golden curls, Morgause.\"\n\nMorgause said, \"Ah, you too are unworldly, Igraine. You area queen, and everyone thinks a queen is beautiful. And you were married to the man you loved well. Most of us are not so fortunate, and it's a comfort to know that other men admire one's beauty. If you had lived all your life with old Gorlois, you too would be glad of your fair face and beautiful hair, and take pains to outshine those women who have nothing but charm and nice eyes and a sweet voice. Men are like babies-they see only the first thing they want, a full breast-\"\n\n\"Sister!\" said Igraine, and Morgause said, with awry smile, \"Ah well, it has been easy for you to be virtuous, sister, since the man you loved was a king. Most of us are not so fortunate.\"\n\n\"Do you not love Lot after all these years, Morgause?\" Morgause shrugged. \"Love is a diversion for the bower and the winter fireside. Lot takes counsel of me in all things, and leaves the ruling of his household tome in time of war; and whenever he has plunder of gold or jewels or fine garments, I have first choice. So I am grateful to him, and he has never had the shadow of cause to think he rears another man's son. But that does not mean I must be blind when a young man has fine features and shoulders like a young bull, either-or an eye for his queen.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Carry on with the plot as the author's writing partner.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 3" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The words cut Morgaine to the heart." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I am said to be like Viviane; does, everyone think me ugly, then? That girl said, little and ugly as one of the fairy folk. She said coldly, \"I think Viviane very beautiful.\"\n\nMorgause snickered. \"It is easy to see you have been reared m Avalon, which is even more isolated than most nunneries. I do not think you know what men desire for beauty in a woman.\"\n\n\"Come now,\" said Igraine soothingly, \"there are virtues other than beauty. This Lancelet has his mother's eyes, and no one has ever denied that Viviane's eyes are beautiful; Viviane has so much charm that no one knows or cares whether or no she is beautiful, only that she has pleased them with her beautiful eyes and her fine voice. Beauty is not only in queenly stature and a fair complexion and golden curls, Morgause.\"\n\nMorgause said, \"Ah, you too are unworldly, Igraine. You area queen, and everyone thinks a queen is beautiful. And you were married to the man you loved well. Most of us are not so fortunate, and it's a comfort to know that other men admire one's beauty. If you had lived all your life with old Gorlois, you too would be glad of your fair face and beautiful hair, and take pains to outshine those women who have nothing but charm and nice eyes and a sweet voice. Men are like babies-they see only the first thing they want, a full breast-\"\n\n\"Sister!\" said Igraine, and Morgause said, with awry smile, \"Ah well, it has been easy for you to be virtuous, sister, since the man you loved was a king. Most of us are not so fortunate.\"\n\n\"Do you not love Lot after all these years, Morgause?\" Morgause shrugged. \"Love is a diversion for the bower and the winter fireside. Lot takes counsel of me in all things, and leaves the ruling of his household tome in time of war; and whenever he has plunder of gold or jewels or fine garments, I have first choice. So I am grateful to him, and he has never had the shadow of cause to think he rears another man's son. But that does not mean I must be blind when a young man has fine features and shoulders like a young bull, either-or an eye for his queen.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I doubt not, thought Morgaine, faintly disgusted, that to Morgause this seems great virtue and she thinks of herself as a very virtuous queen. For the first time in many years she felt confused, knowing that virtue could not be so simply defined. The Christians valued chastity above all other virtues, while on Avalon the highest virtue was to give over your body to the God or Goddess in union with all of the flow of nature; to each, the virtue of the other was the blackest sin and ingratitude to their own God. If one of them was right, the other was of necessity evil. It seemed to her that the Christians were rejecting the holiest of the things under heaven, but to them, she would not be considered much better than a harlot. If she should speak of the Beltane fires as a sacred duty to the Goddess, even Igraine, who had been reared in Avalon, would stare and think that some fiend spoke through her.\n\nShe turned her eyes back to the young men approaching: Arthur, fair and grey-eyed; Lancelet, slender, graceful; and the huge, red-haired Gawaine, who towered over the others like a bull over a pair of fine Spanish horses. Arthur came and bowed to his mother.\n\n\"My lady.\" He recollected himself. \"Mother, has this day been long for you?\"\n\n\"No longer than for you, my son. Will you sit here?\"\n\n\"Fora moment, Mother.\" Ashe seated himself, Arthur, though he had eaten well, absentmindedly took a handful of the sweets that Morgaine had put aside from her plate. It made Morgaine realize again how very young Arthur was. Still munching on almond paste, he said, \"Mother, do you want to marry again? If you do, I will find the very richest-and the very kindest-of the kings to marry you. King Uriens of Northern Wales is widowed; I have no doubt he would be happy to have a good wife.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Igraine smiled." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Thank you, dear son. But after being wife to the High King, I do not want to be wife to a lesser man. And I loved your father well; I have no wish to replace him.\"\n\n\"Well, Mother, let it be as you wish,\" said Arthur, \"only I was afraid you would be lonely.\"\n\n\"It is hard to be lonely in a nunnery, son, with other women. And God is there.\"\n\nMorgause said, \"I would rather dwell in a hermitage in the forest than in a house full of chattering ladies! If God is there, it must be hard for him to get a word in edgewise!\"\n\nFora moment Morgaine saw the sprightly mother of her own childhood as Igraine retorted, \"I imagine, like any henpecked husband, he spends more time in listening to his brides than in speaking to them-but if one listens hard enough for the voice of God it is not faraway. But have you ever been quiet enough to listen and hear him, Morgause?\"\n\nLaughing, Morgause made a gesture, as a fighter who acknowledges a hit. \"And what of you, Lancelet?\" she asked, smiling enticingly. \"Are you betrothed yet, or even married?\"\n\nHe laughed and shook his head. \"Ah, no, Aunt. No doubt my father, King Ban, would find me a wife. But as yet I wish to follow my king and serve him.\"\n\nArthur, smiling up at his friend, clapped a hand on his shoulder. \"With my two strong cousins here, I am guarded as well, I make no doubt, as any of those old Caesars themselves!\"\n\nIgraine said softly, \"Arthur, I think Cai is jealous; say something kind to him,\" and Morgaine, hearing this, looked up at the sullen-looking, scarred Cai. Hard for him, indeed; after years of thinking Arthur his father's unregarded fosterling, now to be supplanted by a younger brother-a younger brother become king-and to find that brother surrounded by two new friends to whom his heart was given." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Arthur said, \"When this land is at peace we shall find wives and castles for all of you, no doubt. But you, Cai, shall keep mine for meas my own chamberlain.\"\n\n\"I am content with that, foster-brother-forgive me, I should say, my lord and king-\"\n\n\"No,\" said Arthur, turning right round to embrace Cai. \"God strike me if I ever ask that you, brother, should call meany such thing!\"\n\nIgraine swallowed hard. \"Arthur, when you speak so, sometimes it seems tome that I hear your father's very voice.\"\n\n\"I wish for my own sake, madam, that I could have known him better. But I know, too, that a king cannot always do as he chooses, nor a queen.\" He lifted Igraine's hand and kissed it, and Morgaine thought: So he has already learned that much of king craft.\n\n\"I suppose,\" Igraine said, \"that they have already set about telling you that you should be married.\"\n\n\"Oh, I suppose so,\" Arthur said, with a shrug. \"Every king, I suppose, has a daughter he would like to marry to the High King. I think I will ask the Merlin which one I ought to marry.\" His eyes sought Morgaine's and fora moment it seemed they held a terrible vulnerability. \"I don't know so very much about women, after all.\"\n\nLancelet said gaily, \"Why then, we must find you the most beautiful woman in the kingdom, and the highest born.\"\n\n\"No,\" Cai said slowly, \"since Arthur says very sensibly that all women are alike to him, find him the one with the best dowry.\"\n\nArthur chuckled. \"I'll leave it to you then, Cai, and I've no doubt I'll be as well wed as I am crowned. I'd suggest you take counsel of the Merlin and no doubt His Holiness the Archbishop will want some say in the matter. And what of you, Morgaine? Shall I find you a husband, or will you be one of my queen's ladies-in-waiting? Who should be higher in the kingdom than the daughter of my mother?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine found her voice. \"My lord and king, I am content in Avalon. Pray don't trouble yourself with finding me a husband.\" Not even, she thought fiercely, not even if I am with child! Not even then!\n\n\"So be it, sister, though I doubt not. His Holiness will have something to say about it-he will have it that the women of Avalon are evil sorceresses or harpies, all.\"\n\nMorgaine did not answer, and Arthur glanced back almost guiltily at the other kings and councillors; the Merlin was looking at him, and he said, \"I see, I have spent all the time I am allowed with my mother and my sister and my Companions; I must go back to the business of being a king again. Madam.\" He bowed to Igraine, more formally to Morgause, but as he approached Morgaine he leaned forward and kissed heron the cheek. She stiffened.\n\nMother, Goddess, what a tangle we have made. He says he will always love me and long for me, and that is the one thing he must not do! If Lancelet only felt so... She sighed, and Igraine came and took her hand.\n\n\"You are tired, daughter. That longstanding in the sun this morning has wearied you. You are sure you would not rather comeback with me to the convent where it is so quiet? No? Well, then, Morgause, take her back to your tent, if you will.\"\n\n\"Yes, dear sister, go and rest.\" She watched the young men walkaway, Arthur tactfully tempering his pace to Cai's halting step.\n\nMORGAINE RETURNED with Morgause to their tent; she was weary, but she had to remain alert and courteous while Lot talked of some plan Arthur had spoken of-fighting on horseback, with attack tactics which could strike down armed bands of Saxon raiders and foot soldiers, most of whom were not trained battle troops." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The boy's a master of strategy,\" Lot said. \"It might well work; after all, it was bands of Picts and Scots, and the Tribes, fighting from cover, who could demoralize the legions, so I am told-the Romans were soused to orderly fighting by the rules, and to foes who stood to give battle. Horsemen always have an advantage over any foot soldiers; the Roman cavalry units, I have been told, were always the ones who had the greater victories.\"\n\nMorgaine remembered Lancelet, talking with passion of his theories of fighting. If Arthur shared that enthusiasm and was willing to work with Lancelet to build cavalry units, then a time might come, indeed, when all the Saxon hordes were driven from this land. Then peace would reign, greater than the legendary two hundred years of the Pax Romana. And if Arthur bore the sword of Avalon and the Druid regalia, then indeed the ensuing time might be a reign of wonder.... Viviane had spoken once of Arthur as a king come out of legend, bearing a legendary sword. And the Goddess might rule again in this land, not the dead God of the Christians with his suffering and death.... She drifted into daydream, waking to reality only when Morgause shook her shoulder lightly.\n\n\"Why, my dear, you are half asleep, go to your bed; we will excuse you,\" she said, and sent her own waiting-woman to help Morgaine from her garments, to wash her feet and braid her hair.\n\nShe slept long and deeply, without dreams, the weariness of many days suddenly descending on her. But when she waked, she hardly knew where she was or what had happened, only that she was deathly sick and must stumble outside the tent to vomit. When she straightened up, her head ringing, Morgause was there, a firm and kindly hand to help her back inside. So Morgaine remembered her from earliest childhood, Morgause intermittently kind and sharp. Now she wiped Morgaine's sweating forehead with a wet towel and then sat beside her, telling the waiting-woman to bring her kinswoman a cup of wine." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No, no, I don't want it, I shall be sick again-\"\n\n\"Drink it,\" Morgause said sternly, \"and try to eat this piece of bread, it is hard and won't sicken you-you need something in your belly at these times.\" She laughed. \"Indeed, something in the belly is what brings all this trouble on you.\"\n\nHumiliated, Morgaine looked away from her.\n\nMorgause's voice was kind again. \"Come, girl, we've all been through it. So you're breeding-what of it? You're not the first or the last. Who is the father, or shouldn't I ask? I saw you looking at Viviane's handsome son-was he the lucky one? Who could blame you? No? A child of the Beltane fires, then? I'd have thought as much. And why not?\"\n\nMorgaine clenched her fists against Morgause's well-meant briskness. \"I won't have it; when I return to Avalon, I know what to do.\"\n\nMorgause looked at her, troubled. \"Oh, my dear, must you? In Avalon they would welcome a child to the God, and you're of the royal Avalon line. I won't say I've never done the same-I told you I had been very careful never to bear a child which was not Lot's, which does not mean I slept alone all the time when he was away on his wars. Well, why should I? I don't suppose he always lay down alone! But an old midwife told me once, and she knew her business well, I must say-she told me that a woman should never try to cast out the first child she conceives, for if she did, it might injure her womb so that she could never bear another.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am a priestess, and Viviane grows old; I do not want it to interfere with my duties in the temple.\" And even as she spoke, she knew she was hiding her truth; there were women in Avalon who pursued their work to the last few months of their pregnancies, and then the other women cheerfully divided their tasks so that they could rest before the birth; and afterward, they even had time to nurse their babies before they were sent to fostering. Indeed, some of their daughters were priestess-reared, as Igraine had been. Morgause herself had been reared to her twelfth year in Avalon as Viviane's foster-daughter.\n\nMorgause looked at her shrewdly. \"Yes, I think every woman feels like that when first she carries a babe in her womb-trapped, angry, something she can't change and is afraid of. I know it was so with Igraine, it was so with me, I suppose it is so with every woman.\" Her arms went out and circled Morgaine, holding her close. \"But, dear child, the Goddess is kind. As the child grows quick within you, the Goddess will put love in your heart for him, even if you care nothing for the man who put him there. Child, I was married at fifteen to a man far older; and on the day I knew I was with child I was ready to cast myself into the sea-it seemed the end of my youth, the end of my life. Ah, don't cry,\" she added, stroking Morgaine's soft hair, \"you'll feel better soon. I have no liking forgoing about with a big belly and piddling like a babe in breechclouts all the daylong, but the time will pass, and a babe at the breast is as much pleasure as the bearing is pain. I have borne four and would willingly have another-so often I had wished one of my sons had been a daughter. If you'd rather not foster your babe in Avalon, I'll foster him for you-what do you think of that?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine drew along, sobbing breath, raising her head from Morgause's shoulder. \"I am sorry-I have wept allover your fine gown.\"\n\nMorgause shrugged. \"If nothing worse should happen to it, it is well. See? The sickness passes and for the rest of the day you will feel well. Do you think Viviane would spare you fora visit tome? You can return to Lothian with us, if you will-you have not seen the Orkneys, and a change will do you good.\"\n\nMorgaine thanked her, but said that she must return to Avalon, and that before she went, she must go and pay her respects to Igraine.\n\n\"I would not counsel you to confide in her,\" Morgause said. \"She has grown so holy she would be shocked, or think it her duty to be so.\"\n\nMorgaine smiled weakly-she had no intention of confiding in Igraine, nor for that matter in anyone else. Before Viviane could know, there would no longer be anything for her to know. She was grateful for Morgause's advice, and for her goodwill and good advice, but she did not intend to heed it. She told herself fiercely that it washer own privilege to choose: she was a priestess, and whatsoever she did should be tempered with her own judgment.\n\nAll through the leavetaking with Igraine, which was strained-and interrupted, more than once, by that damnable bell calling the nuns to their duties-she was thinking that Morgause was more like the mother she remembered than Igraine herself. Igraine had grown old and hard and pious, it seemed to Morgaine, and she bade her farewell with relief. Returning to Avalon, she knew, she was returning home; now she had no other home anywhere in the world." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But if Avalon was no longer home to her, what then?\n\nIt was early in the day when Morgaine slipped quietly out of the House of Maidens and into the wild marsh behind the Lake. She skirted the Tor and came out into the patch of forest; with luck she could find what she wanted here without wandering into the mists.\n\nShe knew the things she needed-a single root and then the bark of a bush, and two herbs. They were all to be found in Avalon. She could have taken them from the storerooms in the House of the Maidens, but she would have had to explain why she wanted them, and she shrank from that. She wanted neither the teasing nor the sympathy of the other women; better to find them herself. She knew something of herb lore, and of the midwife's skill. She need not place herself, for this, at the mercy of any other person.\n\nOne herb she wanted grew in the garden in Avalon; she had picked it unnoticed. For the others she must go afield, and she went a considerable distance before she noticed that she had not yet gone into the mists. Looking about, she realized that she had wandered into apart of Avalon she did not know-and that was utter madness. She had lived in Avalon for ten years or more, she knew every rise and knoll, every path and almost every tree. It was impossible that she could be lost in Avalon, and yet it was true; she had wandered into a thicker patch of forest, where the trees were older and closer than any she had seen, and there were bushes and herbs and trees on which she had never laid eyes.\n\nCould it be that she had somehow strayed through the mists without knowing it, and was now on the mainland surrounding the Lake and the Island? No; she mentally retraced every step of her journey. There had been no mist. In any case, Avalon was almost an island, and if she had trespassed its borders, she would have come only to the water of the Lake. There was the hidden, almost dry, horse path, but she was nowhere near to that." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Even on that day when she and Lancelet had found Gwenhwyfar in the mists, they had been surrounded by marsh, not forest. No, she was not on the Isle of the Priests, and unless she had somehow developed the magical ability to walkover the Lake without swimming, she was not on the mainland either. Nor was she in any part of Avalon. She glanced up, looking to take her bearings by the sun, but she could not seethe sun anywhere; it was full day now, but the light was like a soft radiance in the sky, seeming to come from everywhere at once.\n\nMorgaine began to feel the coldness of fear. She was nowhere, then, in the world she knew. Was it possible that within the Druid magic which had removed Avalon from the very world, there was a further unknown country, a world around or past Avalon? Glancing at the thick trees, the ancient oaks and hazel, fern and willow, she knew she was not in any world she had ever seen. There was a single gnarled oak, old past guessing, that she could not possibly have failed to see and know. Certainly, so old and venerable a tree would have been marked as holy by the Druids. \"By the Goddess! Where am I?\"\n\nWherever she might be, she could not simply stay. Either she would wander into apart of the world that was familiar to her again, find some landmark back to where she intended to go, or she would come to a place where the mists began and she could return to her own place that way.\n\nShe moved slowly in the thickening forest. There seemed to be a clearing ahead which she moved toward. It was surrounded by hazel trees, none of which, she knew instinctively, had ever been touched, even by the metal of a Druid knife, to cut the divining wands which could find water, hidden treasure, or poisonous things. There was a hazel grove on the island of Avalon, but she knew the trees there; had cut her own divining stick there, years ago when she was first learning such things. This was not the place. At the very edge of the grove she saw a small patch of one of the herbs she wanted. Well, she might as well take it now, she might as well get some good for coming here. She went and knelt, folding her skirts to make a pad under her knees for working, and began digging for the root." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Twice, as she grubbed in the earth, she had the sense that she was being watched, that little prickle in her back which comes to all who have lived t among wild things. But when she raised her eyes, although there was a shadow of movement in the trees, she could see no one watching.\n\nThe third time she delayed raising her eyes as long as she could, telling herself that no one would be there. She wrested the herb free from the earth and began stripping the root, murmuring the charm appointed for this use-a prayer to the Goddess to restore life to the bush uprooted, that while she took this one bush, others might grow in its place always. But the sense of being watched grew stronger, and at last Morgaine raised her eyes. Almost invisible at the edge of the trees, standing in shadow, a woman was watching her.\n\nShe was not one of the priestesses; she was not anyone Morgaine had ever seen before. She wore a gown of shadowy grey-green, the color of willow leaves when they grow old and dusty in late summer, and some kind of dark cloak. There was a tiny glimmer of gold at her throat. At first glance Morgaine thought she was one of the little dark people with whom she had awaited the killing of the King Stag. But the woman's bearing made her look quite unlike those small hunted people; she carried herself like a priestess or a queen. Morgaine had no idea of her age, but the deep-set eyes and the lines around them told her that the woman was not young.\n\n\"What are you doing, Morgaine of the Fairies?\"\n\nIce prickled all along her spine. How did the woman know her name? But, concealing her fear with the skill of a priestess, she said, \"If you know my name, lady, surely you can see what I am doing.\" Firmly she wrenched her eyes away from the dark gaze bent on her own, and returned to peeling the bark. Then she looked up again, half expecting that the strange woman would have disappeared as quickly as she had come, but she was still there, regarding Morgaine's work dispassionately. She said, her eyes now resting on Morgaine's grubby hands, die nail she had broken in her rooting, \"Yes, I can see what you are doing, and what you intend to do. Why?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is that to you?\"\n\n\"Life is precious to my people,\" the woman said, \"though we neither bear nor die as easily as your kind. But it is a marvel tome that you, Morgaine, who bear the royal line of the Old People, and thus are my far kinswoman, would seek to castaway the only child you will ever bear.\"\n\nMorgaine swallowed hard. She scrambled to her feet, conscious of her grubby earth-covered hands, the half-stripped roots in her hand, her skirt wrinkled with kneeling on the damp muddy earth-like a goose girl before a High Priestess. She said defiantly, \"What makes you say that? I am still young. Why do you think that if I cast this child forth I should not bear a dozen others?\"\n\n\"I had forgotten that where the fairy blood is dilute, the Sight comes down to you maimed and incomplete,\" the stranger said. \"Let it be enough to say: I have seen. Think twice, Morgaine, before you refuse what the Goddess sent you from the King Stag.\"\n\nSuddenly Morgaine began to weep again. She said, stammering, \"I don't want it! I didn't want it! Why did the Goddess do this tome? If you come from her, can you answer that, then?\"\n\nThe strange woman looked at her sadly. \"I am not the Goddess, Morgaine, nor even her emissary. My kind know neither Gods nor Goddesses, but only the breast of our mother who is beneath our feet and above our heads, from whom we come and to whom we go when our time is ended. Therefore we cherish life and weep to see it cast aside.\" She stepped forward and took the root from Morgaine's hand. She said, \"You do not want this,\" and cast it aside on the ground." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is your name?\" Morgaine cried. \"What is this place?\"\n\n\"You could not say my name in your language,\" said the lady, and suddenly Morgaine wondered what language they were speaking. \"As for this place, it is the hazel grove, and it is what it is. It leads to my place, and the path yonder-\" she pointed-\"will lead you to your own place, in Avalon.\"\n\nMorgaine followed her pointing finger with her eyes. Yes, there was a path there; she would have taken oath it had not been there when she came first into the grove.\n\nThe lady was still standing near her. There was a strange smell to her, not the strong smell of an unwashed body as it had been with the old tribal priestess, but a curious indefinable fragrance, as of some unfamiliar herb or leaf, a strange, fresh, almost bitter scent. Like the ritual herbs for the Sight, it made Morgaine feel as if there was some spell on her eyes so that she saw more than she saw at any other time, as if everything was new and clean, not the ordinary things of everyday.\n\nThe lady said in a low, mesmerizing voice, \"You can stay herewith me if you will; I will make you sleep so that you will bear your child without pain, and I will take him for the strong life that is in him, and he will live longer than he would with your kind. For I see a destiny for him, in your world-he will try to do good, and like most of your kind, he will do only harm. But if he stays here among my people, he will livelong and long-almost, you would say, forever-perhaps a magician or enchanter among us, living with trees and wild things that were never tamed by man. Stay here, little one; give me the babe you do not want to bear, then return to your people, knowing he is happy and will come to no harm.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine felt a sudden deathly chill. She knew that this woman confronting her was not wholly human; she herself bore some such taint of this ancient elf-blood-Morgaine of the Fairies, the old name with which Lancelet had taunted her. She pulled away from the fairy woman's hand and ran, ran toward the path she had pointed out, ran wildly as if pursued by a demon. Behind her the woman called, \"Cast out your child, then, or strangle him at birth, Morgaine of the Fairies, for your people have their own fate, and what befalls the son of the King Stag? The king must die and be cast down in his turn...\" But her voice died away as Morgaine plunged into the mists, racing, stumbling, briars catching at her and pulling her down as she fled in panic flight, until she broke through the mists into glaring sun and silence and knew that she stood again on the familiar shores of Avalon.\n\nTHE MOON WAS DARK in the sky again. Avalon was covered in mist and summer fog, but Viviane had been priestess for so many years that she knew the moon's changes as if they ran in the tides of her own blood. She paced the floor of her house silently, and after a time told one of the priestesses, \"Bring me my harp.\" But when she sat with the pale willow-wood harp on her knee, she only touched the strings idly, without the will or the heart to make music.\n\nAs the night began to pale toward morning, Viviane rose and took a tiny lamp. Her attendant priestess came swiftly from the inner room where she slept, but Viviane shook her head without speaking and gestured the woman to return to her bed. She went, silent as a wraith, down the pathway to the House of Maidens, and stole inside, treading more silently than any cat." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "In the room where Morgaine slept, she went to the bedside and looked down on the sleeping face so like her own. Morgaine, sleeping, had the face of the little girl who had come to Avalon so many years ago and who had entered into Viviane's inmost heart. Under the dark lashes, there were patches of darkness like bruises, and the edges of the eyelids were red, as if Morgaine had wept before sleeping.\n\nHolding the lamp high, she looked long on her young kinswoman. She loved Morgaine as she had never loved Igraine, or Morgause whom she had nursed at her own breasts; as she had never loved any of the men who had shared her bed fora night or fora season. Not even Raven, whom she had schooled to the ways of a priestess since the age of seven, had she loved like this. Only once had she felt this fierce love, this inner pain as if every breath of the beloved were agony-for the daughter she had borne in her first year as sworn priestess, who had lived a scant six months and whom, weeping for the last time, Viviane had buried before she had completed her fifteenth year. From the moment they had laid that daughter in her arms, until the frail child's last breath had ceased, Viviane had drawn her every breath in a kind of mingled delirium of love and pain, as if the beloved child were apart of her own body, whose every moment of contentment or suffering washer own. That had been a lifetime ago, and Viviane knew that the woman she had been born to be had been buried within the hazel grove in Avalon. The woman who walked tearlessly away from that tiny grave had been another person altogether, holding herself aloof from every human emotion. Kind, yes; content, even happy, at times; but not the same woman. She had loved her sons, but from the moment of their birth she had been resigned to the thought of giving them up to foster-mothers." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Raven she had let herself love a little..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "but there were times when Viviane had felt in the innermost depths of her heart that her own dead daughter had been sent back to her by the Goddess in the form of Igraine's child.\n\nNow she weeps, and it is as if every tear burns into my heart. Goddess, you gave me this child to love, and yet I must give her up to this torment.... All of mankind suffers, the Earth herself cries out under the torment of her sons. In our suffering, Mother Ceridwen, we grow nearer to thee.... Viviane raised her hand swiftly to her eyes, shaking her head so that the single tear vanished without trace. She too is vowed to what must be; her suffering has not yet begun.\n\nMorgaine stirred and turned on her side, and Viviane, suddenly fearful that Morgaine would wake and that she must confront again the accusation of those eyes, stole quickly out of the room and silently returned to her own dwelling.\n\nShe lay down on her bed and tried to sleep, but she did not close her eyes. Once, toward morning, she saw a shadow move across the wall, and in the dimness she made out a face; it was the Death-crone, waiting for her, in the form of an old woman clothed in rags and tatters of shadow.\n\nMother, have you come for me?\n\nNot yet, my daughter and my other self, I wait here that you may remember I await you, as I await every other mortal....\n\nViviane blinked, and when she opened her eyes again the corner was dark and empty. Surely I need no reminding that she awaits me now....\n\nShe lay silent, waiting as she had been trained to wait, until at last the dawn stole into the room. Even then she waited until she had dressed herself, though she would not break the moon-dark fast until the crescent could be seen tonight in the evening sky. Then she called her attendant priestess and said, \"Bring the lady Morgaine tome.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When Morgaine came, she noted that the younger woman had dressed herself in the garb of a priestess of the highest rank, her hair high and braided, the small sickle-shaped knife hanging from its black cord. Viviane's mouth moved in a dry smile, and when they had greeted each other and Morgaine sat beside her, she said, \"Twice now the moon has darkened; tell me, Morgaine, has the Horned One of the grove quickened your womb?\"\n\nMorgaine looked quickly at her, the glance of some small frightened thing in a snare. Then the younger woman said, angry and defiant, \"You told me yourself that I should use my own judgment; I have cast it forth.\"\n\n\"You have not,\" said Viviane, steadying her voice to complete detachment. \"Why should you lie tome? I say you shall not.\"\n\n\"I will!\"\n\nViviane felt the power in the girl; fora moment, as Morgaine rose swiftly from the bench, it seemed to her that she had grown suddenly tall and imposing. But it was a priestess-trick and Viviane knew it too.\n\nShe has outstripped me, I cannot overawe her any longer. Nevertheless she said, summoning all her old authority, \"You shall not. The royal blood of Avalon is not to be cast aside.\"\n\nSuddenly Morgaine fell to the ground, and for an instant Viviane feared the girl would break into wild sobbing. \"Why did you do this tome, Viviane? Why did you use me this way? I thought you loved me!\" Her face worked, though she did not weep.\n\n\"The Goddess knows, child, I love you as I have never loved any other human being, on earth,\" Viviane said steadily, through the knifing pain in her heart. \"But when I brought you here, I told you: a time would come when you might hate meas much as you loved me then. I am Lady of Avalon; I do not give reasons for what I do. I do what I must, no more and no less, and so will you when the day comes.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"That day will never come!\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine cried out, \"for here and now, I tell you that you have worked upon me and played with me like a puppet for the last time! Never again-never!\"\n\nViviane kept her voice even, the voice of the trained priestess who would remain calm though the heavens should fall upon her. \"Take care how you curse me, Morgaine; words flung in anger have an evil way of returning when you love them least.\"\n\n\"Curse you-I thought not of it,\" Morgaine said quickly. \"But I will no longer be your toy and plaything. As for this child which you moved Heaven and Earth to bring to the light, I will not bear him in Avalon for you to gloat at what you have done.\"\n\n\"Morgaine-\" Viviane said, holding out her hand to the younger woman, but Morgaine stepped back. She said into the silence, \"May the Goddess deal with you as you have done with me, Lady.\"\n\nWithout another word she turned and left the room, not waiting for dismissal. Viviane sat frozen, as if Morgaine's parting words had been a curse indeed.\n\nWhen finally she could think clearly, she summoned one of the priestesses; already it was late in the day, and the moon, the thinnest paring of a crescent, was visible, slim and silver-edged, in the western sky. \"Tell my kinswoman, the lady Morgaine, to attend upon me; I did not give her leave to go.\"\n\nThe priestess went away, but she did not return fora longtime; it was already dark, and Viviane had summoned the other attendant to bring food to break her long fast, when the first returned.\n\n\"Lady,\" she said and bowed, and her face was white." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Viviane's throat tightened, and for some reason she remembered how along time ago a priestess in deep despair, after the birth of a child she had not wanted, had hanged herself by her girdle from one of the trees in the oak grove. Morgaine! Was it of this the Death-crone came to warn me? Would she lay hands on her own life? She said through dry lips, \"I bade you bring the lady Morgaine tome.\"\n\n\"Lady, I cannot.\"\n\nViviane rose from the seat and her face was terrible; the young priestess backed away so swiftly that she almost fell over her skirt. \"What has\" happened to the lady Morgaine?\"\n\n\"Lady-\" the young woman said stammering, \"she-she was not in her room, and I asked everywhere. I found-I found this in her room,\" she said, holding out the veil and deerskin tunic, the silver crescent and the little sickle knife which Morgaine had been given at her initiation. \"And they told me on the shore that she had summoned the barge and gone away to the mainland. They thought she went by your orders.\"\n\nViviane drew along breath, reached out and took the dagger and crescent from the priestess. She looked at the food on the table and a terrible sense of weakness assailed her; she sat down and quickly ate some bread and drank a cup of water from the Holy Well. Then she said, \"It is not your fault, I am sorry I spoke harshly to you.\" She stood with her hand on Morgaine's little knife and for the first time in her life, as she looked down at her hand, she saw the pulsing of the vein there and thought how easily she could draw the knife across it and watch her life spurt forth. Then would the Death-crone have come for me, and not for Morgaine. If she must have blood, let her have mine. But Morgaine had left the knife; she would not hang herself or cut her wrists. She had, no doubt, gone to her mother for comfort and counsel. She would comeback one day, and if not, it was in the hands of the Goddess." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When she was alone again, she went out of her house and, by the pale shimmer of the newborn moon, climbed along the path to her mirror.\n\nArthur is crowned and a king, she thought; all that I have wrought for in the last twenty years has come to pass. Yet I am here alone and bereft. Let it be as the Goddess wills with me, but let me see once again the face of my daughter, my only child, before I die; let me know that it will be well with her. Mother, in your name.\n\nBut the face of the mirror showed only silence, and shadows, and behind and through it all, a sword in the hands of her own son, Balan.\n\nMORGAINE SPEAKS...\n\nThe little dark oarsmen had not looked twice at me; they were used to Viviane's comings and goings in such garb as she chose, and whatever a priestess chose to do was good in their eyes. None of them presumed to speak tome, and as for me, I kept my face resolutely turned to the outside world.\n\nI could have stolen from Avalon by the hidden path. This way, taking the boat, Viviane was sure to hear that I had gone forth... but even to myself I was afraid to admit the fear that kept me from the hidden path, that my steps would take me not to the mainland, but to that unknown country where strange flowers and trees grew untouched by mankind, and the sun shone never, and the mocking eyes of the fairy woman saw clearly into my very soul. I still bore the herbs, tied in a little pouch at my waist, but as the boat moved on silent oars into the mists of the Lake, I untied the bag and let it fall into the water. It seemed that something gleamed thereunder the surface of the Lake, like a shadow... a glimmer of gold, perhaps jewels; but I looked away, knowing that the oarsmen were waiting for me to raise the mists." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Avalon lay behind me, renounced; the Island lay fair in the rising sun, but I did not turn to look my last on the Tor or the ring stones.\n\nI would not be a pawn for Viviane, giving a son to my brother for some secret purpose of the Lady of the Lake. Somehow I never doubted that it would be a son. Had I believed I would bear a daughter, I would have stayed in Avalon, giving the Goddess the daughter I owed to her shrine. Never, in all the years since, have I ceased to regret that the Goddess sent me a son, rather than a daughter to serve her in temple and grove.\n\nAnd so I spoke the magical words for the last time, as I believed then, and the mists drew back, and we came to the shores of the Lake. I felt as if I were waking from along dream. I had asked, looking for the first time upon Avalon, \"Is it real?\" and I remembered what Viviane had answered me: \"It is more real than any other place.\" But it was real no more. I looked on the dismal reeds and thought, this only is real, and the years in Avalon no more than a dream which will fade and begone as I wake.\n\nRain was falling; the drops splashed coldly into the Lake. I put my heavy cloak over my head and stepped onto the real shore, watching fora moment as the boat faded again into the mists, then resolutely turning away.\n\nI never doubted where I should go. Not to Cornwall, though my whole soul longed for the country of my childhood, the long arms of rock stretching into the dark sea, the deep and shadowed valleys lying between slate cliffs, the beloved and half-forgotten shoreline of Tintagel. Igraine would have welcomed me there. But she was content within convent walls, and it seemed good tome that she should stay there untroubled. Nor did I ever think of going to Arthur, although I have no doubt he would have pitied and sheltered me." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Goddess had had her way with us. I felt some of the shared regret for what had happened that morning-what we had done as Goddess and God had been ordained by ritual, but what had happened at sunrise, that had been for ourselves. But that, too, was as the Goddess would have it. It is only humankind who make these distinctions of blood times and kindred; the beast-kind know nothing of such things, and after all, man and woman are of the beast-kind. But in kindness to Arthur, who had been reared as a Christian, he should never know that he had fathered a son in what he would call grievous sin.\n\nAs for me, I was not priest-bred or priest-ridden. The child now in my womb-I resolved this firmly-had not been gotten by any mortal man. He had been sent tome by the King Stag, the Horned One, as was lawful for the first child of a sworn priestess.\n\nSo I turned my steps toward the North, without fear of the long journey over moorland and fell which would bring meat last to the kingdom of Orkney, and to my kinswoman Morgause.\n\nBook Two\n\nThe High Queen\n\nFar to the north, where Lot was king, the snow lay deep on the fells, and 'even at midday there was often no more than a twilit fog. On the rare days when the sun shone, the men could get out for some hunting, but the women were imprisoned in the castle. Morgause, idly twirling her spindle-she hated spinning as much as ever, but the room was too dark for any finer work-felt an icy draft from the opened door and looked up. She said in mild reproof, \"It is too cold for that, Morgaine, and you have been complaining of the cold all day; now would you turn us all into icicles?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I was not complaining,\" said Morgaine. \"Did I say a word? The room is as stuffy as a privy, and the smoke stinks. I want to breathe-no more!\" She pushed the door shut and went back to the fire, rubbing her hands and shivering. \"I have not once been warm since Midsummer.\"\n\n\"I doubt that not at all,\" said Morgause. \"Your little passenger in there steals all the heat from your bones-he is warm and snug, and his mother shivers. It is always so.\"\n\n\"At least Midwinter is now past, the light comes earlier and stays later,\" said one of Morgause's women. \"And perhaps in another fortnight, you will have your babe with you....\"\n\nMorgaine did not answer but stood shivering near the fire, chafing her hands as if they ached. Morgause thought that the girl looked like her own ghost, her face sharpened and fined to deathly thinness, her hands bony as skeleton sticks contrasted with the huge bulging of her pregnant belly. There were great dark circles under her eyes, and the lids were red as if sore with long weeping; but in all the moons Morgaine had been in this house, Morgause had not seen the younger woman shed a single tear.\n\nI would comfort her, but how can I, if she does not weep?\n\nMorgaine was wearing an old gown of Morgause's own, a faded and threadbare kirtle of dark blue, grotesquely too long. She looked clumsy, almost slatternly, and it exasperated Morgause that her kinswoman had not even troubled to take needle and thread and shorten the dress somewhat. Her ankles, too, were swollen so that they bulged over her shoe tops; that was from having only salt fish and coarse vegetables to eat at this time of year. They all needed fresh food, which was not easy to come by in this weather. Well, perhaps the men would have some luck at hunting and she could induce Morgaine to eat some of the fresh meat; after four pregnancies of her own, Morgause knew the near-starvation of late pregnancy. Once, she remembered, when she was pregnant with Gawaine, she had gone into the dairy and eaten some of the clay they kept for whitening it. An old midwife had told her that when a pregnant woman cannot keep herself from eating such strange things, it is the child that hungers and she should feed him whatever he wishes for. Maybe tomorrow there would be fresh herbs by the mountain stream-that was something every pregnant woman craved, especially in late winter like this. Morgaine's beautiful dark hair was tangled, too, in a loose braid-it looked as if she hadn't combed or rebraided it for weeks. She turned from the fire now, took down a comb that was kept on the shelf, picked up one, of Morgause's little lapdogs and began combing it. Morgause thought, You would be better occupied at combing your own hair, but she held her peace; Morgaine had been so edgy lately that there was no speaking to her at all. It was natural enough, so near her time, she thought, watching the younger woman's bony hands pulling the comb through the matted hair; the little dog yelped and whined, and Morgaine hushed him in a softer voice than, she ever used to anything human these days." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It cannot belong now, Morgaine,\" Morgause said gently. \"By Candlemas, surely, you will be delivered.\"\n\n\"It cannot be too soon for me.\" Morgaine gave the dog a final pat and set him on the floor. \"There, now you are decent to be among ladies, puppy... how fine you are, with your hair all smooth!\"\n\n\"I will makeup the fire,\" said one of the women, whose name was Beth, putting aside her spindle and thrusting the distaff into a basket of loose; wool. \"The men will be home, surely-it is already dark.\" She went over to the fire, tripped on a loose stick, and half fell on the hearth. \"Gareth, you little wretch, will you clear away this rubbish?\" She flung the stick into fire, and five-year-old Gareth, who had been pushing the sticks about prattling to them in an undertone, setup a howl of outrage-the sticks were his armies!\n\n\"Well, Gareth, it is night, and your armies must go to their tents,\" said Morgause briskly. Pouting, the little boy pushed the array of small sticks into a corner, but one or two he put carefully into a fold of his tunic-they were thicker ones, which Morgaine, earlier that year, had carved into the crude likeness of men in helmets and armor, dyed with berry juice for their crimson tunics.\n\n\"Will you make me another Roman knight, Morgaine?\"\n\n\"Not now, Gareth,\" she said. \"My hands ache with the cold. Tomorrow, perhaps.\"\n\nHe came and scowled, standing at her knee, demanding, \"When will I be old enough to go hunting with Father and Agravaine?\"\n\n\"It will be a few years still, I suppose,\" said Morgaine, smiling. \"Not until you are tall enough not to be lost in a snowdrift!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I'm big!\" he said, drawing himself up to his full height, \"Look, when you're sitting down I'm taller than you are, Morgaine!\" He kicked restlessly at the chair. \"There's nothing to do inhere!\"\n\n\"Well,\" said Morgaine, \"I could always teach you to spin, and then you need not be idle.\" She picked up Beth's abandoned distaff and held it out to him, but he made a face and started back.\n\n\"I'm going to be a knight! Knights don't have to spin!\"\n\n\"That's a pity,\" Beth said sourly. \"Perhaps they would not wear out so many cloaks and tunics if they knew what toil it is to spin them!\"\n\n\"Yet there was a knight who did spin, so the tale says,\" Morgaine said, holding out her arms to the little boy. \"Come here. No, sit on the bench, Gareth, you are all too heavy now for me to hold you on my lap like a sucking babe. There was in the old days, before the Romans came, a knight named Achilles, and he was under a curse; an old sorceress told his mother that he would die in battle, and so she put him into skirts and hid him among the women, where he learned to spin and to weave and do all that was fitting fora maiden.\"\n\n\"And did he die in battle?\"\n\n\"He did indeed, for when the city of Troy was besieged, they called on all the knights and warriors to come and take it, and Achilles went with the rest, and he was the best of all the knights. It was told of him that he was offered a choice, he could livelong in safety, then die an old man in his bed and be forgotten, or he could live a short life and die young with great glory, and he chose the glory; so men still tell of his story in the sagas. He fought with a knight in Troy called Hector-Ectorius, that is, in our tongue-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Was it that same sir Ectorius who fostered our king Arthur?\" asked the little boy, wide-eyed.\n\n\"To be sure it was not, for it was many hundred years ago, but it might have been one of his forefathers.\"\n\n\"When I am at court, and one of Arthur's Companions,\" said Gareth, his eyes round as saucers, \"I will be the best fighter in war, and I will win all the prizes when there are games. What happened to Achilles?\"\n\n\"I remember it not-it was long ago, at Uther's court, I heard the tale,\" Morgaine said, pressing her hands against her back as if it hurt her.\n\n\"Tell me about Arthur's knights, Morgaine. You have really seen Lancelet, have you not? I saw him, that day at the King's crowning-has he killed any dragons? Tell me, Morgaine-\"\n\n\"Don't plague her, Gareth, she's not well,\" said Morgause. \"Run out to the kitchens and see if they can find you some bannock.\"\n\nThe child looked sulky, but he took his carved knight out of his tunic and went off, talking to it in an undertone. \"So, sir Lancelet, we will go out and we will kill all the dragons in the Lake....\"\n\n\"That one, he talks only of war and fighting,\" said Morgause impatiently, \"and his precious Lancelet, as if it were not enough to have Gawaine away with Arthur at the wars! I hope that when Gareth is old enough, there will be peace in the land!\"\n\n\"There will be peace,\" Morgaine said absently, \"but it will not matter, for he will die at the hands of his dearest friend-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What?\" cried Morgause staring, but the younger woman's eyes were vacant and unfocused; Morgause shook her gently and demanded, \"Morgaine! Morgaine, are you ill?\"\n\nMorgaine blinked and shook her head. \"I am sorry-what did you say tome?\"\n\n\"What did I say to you? What, rather, did you say tome?\" Morgause demanded, but at the look of distress in Morgaine's eyes, her skin prickled. She stroked the younger woman's hand, dismissing the grim words as delirium. \"I think you must have been dreaming with your eyes wide open.\" She found that she did not want to think that Morgaine might have had'a moment of the Sight. \"You must care for yourself better, Morgaine, you hardly eat, you don't sleep-\"\n\n\"Food sickens me,\" Morgaine said, sighing. \"Would it were summer, that I might have some fruit... last night I dreamed I ate of the apples of Avalon-\" Her voice trembled, and she lowered her head so that Morgause would not seethe tears hanging from her lashes; but she clenched her hands and did not weep.\n\n\"We are all weary of salt fish and smoked bacon,\" said Morgause, \" but if Lot has had good hunting, you must eat some of the fresh meat. Morgaine, she thought, had been trained in Avalon to ignore hunger and thirst and fatigue; now, pregnant, when she should relax her austerities somewhat, she took pride in enduring everything without complaint.\n\n\"You are priestess-trained, Morgaine, hardened to fasting, but yout child cannot endure hunger and thirst, and you are far too thin-\"\n\n\"Don't mock me!\" Morgaine said angrily, gesturing at her enormously swollen belly." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But your hands and face are like bare bone,\" said Morgause. \"You must not starve yourself like this, you have a child and you must consider him!\"\n\n\"I will consider his welfare when he considers mine!\" Morgaine said, rising abruptly, but Morgause took her hands and drew her down again. \"Dear child, I know what you are going through, I have borne four children, remember? These last few days are worse than all the long months combined!\"\n\n\"I should have had the sense to be rid of it while there was time!\"\n\nMorgause opened her mouth fora sharp answer, then sighed and said, \"It's too late to say you should have done so or so; ten days more will bring it to an end.\" She took her own comb from her tunic folds and began to unravel Morgaine's tangled braid.\n\n\"Let it be-\" said Morgaine restlessly, pulling her head away from the comb. \"I will do it myself tomorrow. I have been too weary to think of it. But if you are sick of looking at me all bedraggled like this-well, give me the comb!\"\n\n\"Sit still, lennavan,\" said Morgause. \"Don't you remember, when you were a little girl at Tintagel, you used to cry for me to comb your hair because your nurse-what washer name?... Now I remember: Gwennis, that was it-she used to pull your hair so, and you would say,\"Let Aunt Morgause do it? \"\" She teased the comb through the tangles, smoothing out strand after strand, and stroked Morgaine's head affectionately. \"You have lovely hair.\"\n\n\"Dark and coarse as a pony's mane in winter!\"\n\n\"No, fine as the wool of a black sheep, and shining like silk,\" Morgause said, still stroking the dark strands. \"Hold still, I will plait it for you.... Always I have wished fora girl-child, so that I could dress her finely and plait her hairlike this... but the Goddess sent me only sons, and so you must just be my little daughter now when you need me....\" She pulled the dark head against her breast, and Morgaine lay there, shaking with the tears she could not shed. \"Ah, there, there, my little one, don't cry, it won't belong now, there, there... you have not been taking good care of yourself, you need a mother's care, my little girl....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is only... it is so dark here... I long so for the sun....\"\n\n\"In the summer we have more than our share of sunlight, it is light even to midnight,\" said Morgause, \"and so in winter we get so little.\" Morgaine was still shaking with uncontrollable sobs, and Morgause held her close, rocking her gently. \"There, little one, lennavan, there, I know how you feel... I bore Gawaine in the darkest time of winter. It was dark and stormy like this, and I was only sixteen years old then, and very frightened, I knew so little of bearing children. I wished then that I had stayed to be priestess at Avalon, or at Uther's court, or anywhere but here. Lot was away at the wars, I hated my big body, I was sick all the time and my back hurt, and I was all alone with only strange women. Would you believe, all that winter, I kept my old doll secretly in my bed, and held her, and cried myself every night to sleep? Such a baby I was! You at least area woman grown, Morgaine.\"\n\nMorgaine said, choking, \"I know I am too old to be such a baby...\" but still she clung to Morgause, while the older woman petted and stroked her hair.\n\n\"And now that same babe I bore even before I was a grown woman is away fighting with the Saxons,\" she said, \"and you, whom I held on my lap like a doll, you are to have a babe of your own. Ah, yes, I knew there was news I meant to tell you; the cook's wife Marged has borne her child-no doubt that was why the porridge was so full of husks this morning-so there will be a wet nurse ready at hand for yours. Though indeed, when you see him, I doubt not you will want to suckle him yourself.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine made a gesture of revulsion, and Morgause smiled. \"So I felt myself, before each of my sons was born, but when I looked once on their faces, I felt I could never let them out of my arms.\" She felt the younger woman flinch. \"What is it, Morgaine?\"\n\n\"My backaches; I have been sitting too long, that is all,\" Morgaine said, rising restlessly and wandering around the room, her hands clasped at the small of her back. Morgause narrowed her eyes thoughtfully; yes, in the last few days the girl's bulging belly was carried lower, it could not belong now. She should have the women's hall filled with fresh straw and speak to the midwives to beat hand for the lying-in.\n\nLOT'S MEN HAD FOUND a deer on the hills; skinned and cleaned, the smell roasting over the great fire filled the whole of the castle, and even Morgaine did not refuse a slice of the raw liver, dripping blood-by custom this food was saved for such of the women as were with child.\n\nMorgause could see her grimace with revulsion, as she herself had done when such things were given to her in her own pregnancies, but Morgaine, as Morgause had done, sucked at ft with avidity, her body demanding the nourishment even as her mind revolted. Later, though, when the meat was cooked and carvers were slicing it and carrying it around, she gestured refusal. Morgause took a slice of meat and laid it on Morgaine's dish.\n\n\"Eat it,\" she commanded. \"No, Morgaine, I will be obeyed, you cannot starve yourself and your child this way.\"\n\n\"I cannot,\" said Morgaine in a low voice. \"I will be sick-put it by and I will try to eat it later.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is wrong?\"\n\nMorgaine lowered her head and muttered, \"I cannot eat-the meat of deer-I ate it at Beltane when-and now the very smell sickens me-\" And this child was gotten at Beltane at the ritual fires. What is it that troubles her so? That memory should be a pleasant one, Morgause thought, smiling at the memory of the Beltane license. She wondered if the girl had fallen into the hands of some particularly brutish man and had undergone something like rape-that would account for her rage and despair at this pregnancy. Still, done was done, and Morgaine was old enough to know that not all men were brutes, even if she had once fallen into the hands of one who was neither gentle nor skilled with women.\n\nMorgause took a slice of oatcake and sopped it in the meat juice in the dish. \"Eat this, then-you will get the good of the meat so,\" she said, \"and I have made you some tea with the hips of roses; it is sour and will taste good to you. I remember how I craved sour things when I was breeding.\"\n\nMorgaine ate obediently, and it seemed to Morgause that a little color came into her face. She made a face at the sourness of the drink, but drank it down thirstily nonetheless. \"I do not like it,\" she said, \"but how strange, I cannot stop drinking it.\"\n\n\"Your child craves it,\" said Morgause seriously. \"Babes in the womb know what is good for them, and they demand it of us.\"\n\nLot, sitting at his ease between two of his huntsmen, smiled amiably at his sister-in-law. \"An old skinny animal, but a good dinner for late winter,\" he said, \"and I'm just as glad we didn't get a breeding doe. We saw two or three of them, but I told my men to let them be, and even called off the dogs-I want the deer to drop their fawns in peace, and I could see that time is near, so many of them were heavy.\" He yawned, taking up small Gareth, whose face was greasy and shining with the meat. \"Soon you'll be big enough to go hunting with us,\" he said. \"You and the little Duke of Cornwall, no doubt.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Who is the Duke of Cornwall, Father?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gareth asked.\n\n\"Why, the babe Morgaine carries,\" Lot replied, smiling, and Gareth stared at Morgaine. \"I don t see any baby. Where is your baby, Morgaine?\"\n\nMorgaine chuckled uneasily. \"Next month at this time I shall show him to you.\"\n\n\"Will the spring maiden bring it to you?\"\n\n\"You could say so,\" Morgaine said, smiling despite herself.\n\n\"How can a baby be a duke?\"\n\n\"My father was Duke of Cornwall. I am his only child in marriage. When Arthur came to reign, he gave Tintagel back to Igraine; it will pass from her tome and to my sons, if I have any.\"\n\nMorgause, looking at the young woman, thought: Her son stands nearer the throne than my own Gawaine. I am full sister to Igraine, and Viviane but her half-sister, so Gawaine is nearer kin than Lancelet. But Morgaine's son will be Arthur's nephew. I wonder if Morgaine has thought of that?\n\n\"Certainly, then, Morgaine, your son is Duke of Cornwall-\"\n\n\"Or Duchess,\" said Morgaine, smiling again.\n\n\"No, I can tell by the way you carry, low and broad, that it will be a son,\" said Morgause. \"I have borne four, and I have watched my women through pregnancies....\" She grinned maliciously at Lot and said, \"My husband takes very seriously that old writing which says that a king should be father to his people!\"\n\nLot said good-naturedly, \"I think it only right for my true-born sons' by my queen to have many foster-brothers; bare is back, they say, without brother, and my sons are many.... Come, kinswoman, will you take the harp and sing for us?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine pushed aside the remnant of gravy-soaked oatcake. \"I haves, ' eaten too much for singing,\" she said, frowning, and began to pace the hall again, and Morgause again saw her hands pressed to her back. Gareth came; and tugged at her skirt.\n\n\"Sing tome. Sing me that song about the dragon, Morgaine.\"\n\n\"It is too long for tonight-you must be away to your bed,\" she said, but she went to the corner, took up the small harp that stood there, and sat on a bench. She plucked a few notes at random, bent to adjust one of the' strings, then broke into a rowdy drinking song of the armies.\n\nLot joined in the chorus, as did his men, their raucous voices ringing up to the smoky beams:\n\n\"The Saxons came in dark of night,\n\nWith all the folk asleep,\n\nThey killed off all the women, for-\n\nThey'd rather rape the sheep!\"\n\n\"You never learned that song in Avalon, kinswoman,\" Lot said, grinning, as Morgaine rose to replace the harp.\n\n\"Sing again,\" Gareth teased, but she shook her head.\n\n\"I am too short of breath now for singing,\" she said. She put the harp down and took up her spindle, but after a moment or two put it aside and-j once more began pacing the hall.\n\n\"What ails you, girl?\" Lot asked. \"You're restless as a caged bear!\"\n\n\"My backaches with sitting,\" she said, \"and that meat my aunt would have me eat has given me a bellyache after all.\" She held her hands again to her back and bent over suddenly as if with a cramp; then, suddenly, she gave a startled cry, and Morgause, watching, saw the too-long kirtle turn dark and wet, soaking her to the knees." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Carry on with the narrative as the plot partner.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 4" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine pushed aside the remnant of gravy-soaked oatcake. \"I haves, ' eaten too much for singing,\" she said, frowning, and began to pace the hall again, and Morgause again saw her hands pressed to her back. Gareth came; and tugged at her skirt.\n\n\"Sing tome. Sing me that song about the dragon, Morgaine.\"\n\n\"It is too long for tonight-you must be away to your bed,\" she said, but she went to the corner, took up the small harp that stood there, and sat on a bench. She plucked a few notes at random, bent to adjust one of the' strings, then broke into a rowdy drinking song of the armies.\n\nLot joined in the chorus, as did his men, their raucous voices ringing up to the smoky beams:\n\n\"The Saxons came in dark of night,\n\nWith all the folk asleep,\n\nThey killed off all the women, for-\n\nThey'd rather rape the sheep!\"\n\n\"You never learned that song in Avalon, kinswoman,\" Lot said, grinning, as Morgaine rose to replace the harp.\n\n\"Sing again,\" Gareth teased, but she shook her head.\n\n\"I am too short of breath now for singing,\" she said. She put the harp down and took up her spindle, but after a moment or two put it aside and-j once more began pacing the hall.\n\n\"What ails you, girl?\" Lot asked. \"You're restless as a caged bear!\"\n\n\"My backaches with sitting,\" she said, \"and that meat my aunt would have me eat has given me a bellyache after all.\" She held her hands again to her back and bent over suddenly as if with a cramp; then, suddenly, she gave a startled cry, and Morgause, watching, saw the too-long kirtle turn dark and wet, soaking her to the knees." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Oh, Morgaine, you've wet yourself,\" Gareth cried out." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You're too big to wet your clothes-my nurse would beat me for that!\"\n\n\"Hush, Gareth!\" Morgause said sharply, and hurried to Morgaine, who stood bent over, her face crimson with astonishment and shame.\n\n\"It's all right, Morgaine,\" she said, taking her by the arm. \"Does it hurt you here-and here? I thought as much. You are in labor, that is all, didn't you know?\" But how should the girl know? It washer first, and she was never one for listening to women's gossip, so she would not know the signs. For much of this day she must have been feeling the first pains. She called Beth and said, \"Take the Duchess of Cornwall to the women's hall and call Megan and Branwen. And take down her hair; she must have nothing knotted or bound about her or her clothing.\" She added, stroking Morgaine's hair, \"I would that I had known this sooner this day when I braided your hair-I will comedown soon and stay with you, Morgaine.\"\n\nShe watched the girl go out, leaning heavily on the nurse's arm. She said to Lot, \"I must go and stay with her. It is her first time, and she will be frightened, poor girl.\"\n\n\"There's no hurry,\" Lot said idly. \"If it's her first, she'll be in labor all this night, and you'll have time to hold her hand.\" He gave his wife a good-natured smile. \"You are quick to bring our Gawaine's rival into the world!\"\n\n\"What do you mean?\" she asked, low.\n\n\"Only this-that Arthur and Morgaine were born of one womb, and her son stands nearer the throne than ours.\"\n\n\"Arthur is young,\" Morgause said coldly, \"and has time enough to father a dozen sons. Why should you think he has need of an heir?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lot shrugged. \"Fate is fickle,\" he said. \"Arthur bears a charmed life in battle-and I doubt not that the Lady of the Lake had something to do with that, damn her-and Gawaine is all too loyal to his king. But fate may turn away from Arthur, and if that day should come, I would like to know that Gawaine stood closest to the throne. Think well, Morgause; the life of an infant is uncertain. You might do well to beseech your Goddess that the little Duke of Cornwall should not draw a second breath.\"\n\n\"How could I do that to Morgaine? She is like my own daughter!\"\n\nLot chucked his wife affectionately under the chin. He said, \"You area loving mother, Morgause, and I wouldn't have you otherwise. But I doubt if Morgaine is so eager to have a child in her arms. I have heard her say that she wished she had cast forth her child-\"\n\n\"She was ill and weary,\" said Morgause angrily. \"Do you think I did not say as much, when I was weary of dragging around a great belly? Any woman says such things in the last few moons of her pregnancy.\"\n\n\"Still, if Morgaine's child should be born without breath, I do not think she would grieve overmuch. Nor-this is what I am saying-should you.\"\n\nMorgause defended her kinswoman: \"She is good to our Gareth, has made him toys and playthings and told him tales. I am sure she will be just as good a mother to her own.\"\n\n\"Yet, it is not to our interest or our son's that Morgaine should think of her son as Arthur's heir.\" He put his arm around his wife, \"Look sweeting, you and I have four sons, and no doubt when they're all grown they'll beat one another's throats-Lothian is not so big a kingdom as all that! But if Gawaine were High King, then there would be kingdom enough for them all.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She nodded slowly. Lot had no love for Arthur, as he had had none for Uther; but she had not thought him quite so ruthless as this. \"Are you asking me to kill her child as it comes forth?\"\n\n\"She is our kinswoman and my guest,\" Lot said, \"and thus sacred, I would not invoke the curse of a kinslayer. I said only-the lives of newborn babes are frail, unless they are very carefully tended, and if Morgaine has a difficult time of it, it might be well that none has leisure to tend the babe.\"\n\nMorgause set her teeth and turned away from Lot. \"I must go my to kinswoman.\"\n\nBehind her Lot smiled. \"Think well on what I have said, my wife.\"\n\nDown in the little hall, afire had been lighted for the women; a kettle of gruel was boiling on the hearth, for it would be along night. Fresh straw had been spread. Morgause had forgotten, as women happy with their children do, the dread of birth, but the sight of the fresh straw made her teeth clench and a shudder go down her back. Morgaine had been put into a loose shift, and her hair, unbound, was hanging loose down her back; she was walking up and down in the room, leaning on Megan's arm. It all had the air of a festival, and so indeed it was for the other women. Morgause went up to her kinswoman and took her arm.\n\n\"Come now, you can walk with me a bit, and Megan can go and prepare the swaddlings for your child,\" she said. Morgaine looked at her and Morgause thought the younger woman's eyes were like those of a wild animal in a snare, awaiting the hunter's hand which will cut its throat." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Will it belong, Aunt?\"\n\n\"Now, now, you must not think ahead,\" said Morgause tenderly'Think, if you must, that you have been in labor most of this day, so it will go all the faster now.\" But to herself she thought, It will not be easy for her, she is so small, and she is reluctant to bear this child; no doubt there is along hard night ahead of her....\n\nAnd then she remembered that Morgaine had the Sight, and that it was useless to lie to her. She patted Morgaine's pale cheek. \"No matter, child, we will take good care of you. It is always long with a first child-they are loath to leave their snug nest-but we will do all we can. Did anyone bring a cat into the room?\"\n\n\"A cat? Yes, she is there, but why, Aunt?\" Morgaine asked.\n\n\"Because, little one, if you have seen a cat kittening, you know that the cat bears her children purring, not crying out in pain, and so perhaps her pleasure in bearing will help you to feel the pains less,\" Morgause said, stroking the small furry creature. \"It is a form of birth magic that perhaps you do not know in Avalon. Yes, you may sit down now, and rest fora little, and hold the cat in your lap.\" She watched Morgaine stroking the cat in a moment of respite, but then she doubled over again with the sharp cramps, and Morgause urged her to getup again and keep walking. \"As long as you can bear it-it goes quicker so,\" she said.\n\n\"I am so tired, so tired...\" Morgaine said, moaning a little.\n\nYou will be more tired before this is over, Morgause thought, but she only came and put her arms around the younger woman. \"Here. Lean on me, child....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You are so like my mother...\" Morgaine said, clinging to Morgause, her face contorted as if she were about to cry. \"I wish my mother were here...\" and then she bit her lip as if she regretted her moment of weakness, and began slowly walking, walking up and down the crowded room.\n\nThe hours dragged slowly by. Some of the women slept, but there were plenty to take their turn in walking with Morgaine, who grew more and more frightened and pale as time wore on. The sun rose, and still the midwives had not said Morgaine might lie down in the straw, though she was so weary that she stumbled and could hardly put one foot before another. One moment she said she was cold and clutched her warm fur cloak about her; another time she thrust it from her, saying that she was burning up. Again and again she retched and vomited, at last bringing up nothing but green bile; but she could not seem to stop retching, though they forced her to drink hot herb drinks, which she gulped down thirstily. But then she would begin retching again, and Morgause, watching her, her mind full of what Lot had said, wondered if it would make any difference what she did or did not do... it might well be that Morgaine could not survive this birth.\n\nAt last she could walk no more, and they let her lie down, gasping and biting her lips against the recurrent pains; Morgause knelt beside her, holding her hand as the hours wore on. Along time past noon, Morgause asked her quietly, \"Was he-the child's father-much bigger than you? Sometimes when a baby takes so long to be born, it means the child takes after his father and is too big for the mother.\"\n\nShe wondered, as she had wondered before, who was this child's father? She had seen Morgaine looking on Lancelet at Arthur's crowning; if Morgaine had gotten herself with child by Lancelet, that might well explain why Viviane had been so angered that poor Morgaine had had to flee from Avalon.... In all of these months, Morgaine had said nothing of her reasons for leaving the temple, and of her child, no more than that it was gotten at Beltane fires. Viviane was so tender of Morgaine, she would not have allowed her to bear a child to just anyone...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But if Morgaine, rebelling against her chosen destiny, had taken Lancelet for lover, or had seduced him into the Beltane grove, then it might explain why Viviane's chosen priestess, her successor as Lady of the Lake, fled from Avalon.\n\nBut Morgaine said only, \"I did not see his face; he came tome as the Horned One,\" and Morgause knew, with her own faint trace of the Sight, that the younger woman was lying. Why?\n\nTHE HOURS DRAGGED BY. Once Morgause went into the main hall, where Lot's men were playing at knucklebones. Lot sat watching, one of Morgause's younger waiting-women on his lap and his hand playing casually with her breasts; as Morgause came in, the woman looked up apprehensively and started to slide from his knees, but Morgause shrugged. \"Stay where you are; we have no need of you among the midwives, and tonight at least I shall be with my kinswoman and have no leisure to argue with you over a place in his bed. Tomorrow it might be another matter.\" The young woman bent her head, blushing. Lot said, \"How goes it with Morgaine, sweeting?\"\n\n\"Not well,\" Morgause said. \"It was never so hard for me.\" Then she cried out in a rage, \"Did you ill-wish my kinswoman that she might never rise from childbed?\"\n\nLot shook his head. \"You have the charms and magic in this kingdom, lady. I wish Morgaine no ill. God knows, that would be grievous waste of a pretty woman-and Morgaine's handsome enough, for all her sharp tongue! Though that she comes by honest enough from your side of the family, does she not, sweeting, and it adds salt to the dish....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgause smiled affectionately at her husband. Whatever pretty toys he might choose for his bed-and the girl on his lap was just one more of them-she knew that she suited him well.\n\n\"Where is Morgaine, Mother?\" Gareth asked. \"She said that today she would carve me another knight to play with!\"\n\n\"She is sick, little son.\" Morgause drew along breath, the weight of anxiety settling over her again.\n\n\"She will be well soon,\" Lot said, \"and then you will have a little cousin to play with. He shall be your foster-brother and your friend-we have a saying that kin ties last for three generations and foster ties for seven, and since Morgaine's son will be both to you, he will be more than your own brother.\"\n\n\"I will be glad to have a friend,\" said Gareth. \"Agravaine mocks me and calls me a silly baby, saying I am too old for wooden knights!\"\n\n\"Well, Morgaine's son will be your friend, when he is grown a bit,\" said Morgause. \"At first he will be like a puppy with his eyes not open, but in a year or two he will be old enough to play with you. But the Goddess hears the prayers of little children, son, so you must pray to the Goddess that she will hear you and bring Morgaine a strong son and health, and not come to her as the Death-crone-\" and suddenly she began to cry. With astonishment, Gareth watched his mother weep, and Lot said, \"As bad as that, sweetheart?\"\n\nMorgause nodded. But there was no need to frighten the child. She wiped her eyes with her kirtle.\n\nGareth looked upward and said, \"Please, dear Goddess, bring my cousin Morgaine a strong son, so we can grow up and be knights together.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Against her will, Morgause laughed and stroked the chubby cheek." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Such a prayer I am sure the Goddess will hear. Now I must go back to Morgaine.\"\n\nBut she felt Lot's eyes on her as she left the hall, and remembered what he had said to her earlier-that it might be better for them all if Morgaine's son did not survive.\n\nI shall be content if Morgaine comes alive through this, she thought, and almost for the first time, she regretted that she had learned so little of the great magics of Avalon, now, when she needed some charm or spell that could ease this struggle for Morgaine. It had gone so hard, so frightfully hard with the girl, her own childbed had been nothing to this....\n\nShe came back into the women's hall. The midwives had Morgaine kneeling upright in the straw now, to help the child slip from the womb; but she was slumping between them like a lifeless thing, so that two of them had to hold her upright. She was crying out now in gasps, then biting her lip against the cries, trying to be brave. Morgause went and knelt before Morgaine in the blood-flecked straw; she held out her hands, and Morgaine gripped them, looking at Morgause almost without recognition.\n\n\"Mother!\" she cried out. \"Mother, I knew you would come-\"\n\nThen her face convulsed again and she flung back her head, her mouth squared with unvoiced screams. Megan said, \"Hold her, my lady-no, behind her like that, hold her upright-\" and Morgause, gripping Morgaine beneath the arms, felt the girl shaking, retching, sobbing as she fought and struggled, blindly, to getaway from them. She was no longer capable of; helping them or even letting them do what they must, but screamed aloud when they touched her. Morgause shut her eyes, unwilling to see, holding Morgaine's frail convulsing body with all her strength. She screamed again, \"Mother! Mother!\" but Morgaine did not know whether she was calling'1 on Igraine or on the Goddess. Then she slumped backward into Morgaine's arms, all but unconscious; there was the sharp smell of blood in the room, and Megan held up something dark and shrivelled-looking." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Look, lady Morgaine,\" she said, \"you have a fine son-\" then she bent over him, breathing into the little mouth. There was a sharp, outraged sound, the cry of a newborn shrieking with fury at the cold world into which he had come.\n\nBut Morgaine lay collapsed in Morgause's arms, utterly exhausted, and could not even open her eyes to look at her child.\n\nTHE BABE HAD BEEN washed and swaddled; Morgaine had swallowed a cup of hot milk with honey in it, and herbs against the bleeding, and now she lay drowsing, weary, not even stirring as Morgause bent to kiss her lightly on the brow.\n\nShe would live and heal, though Morgause had never seen a woman struggle so hard, and yet live, with a living child. And the midwife said that after all they had had to do to deliver this one alive, it was unlikely Morgaine would ever bear another. Which, Morgause thought, was just as well. She realized now that her own birthings, which had not been easy, had been nothing to this.\n\nShe picked up the swaddled child, looking down at the small features. He seemed to be breathing well enough, though sometimes, when a child did not cry at once and it was necessary to breathe into his mouth, the breathing would fail again later and he would die. But he was a healthy pink, even the tiny nails rosy. Dark hair, perfectly straight, dark, fine down on the small arms and legs-yes, this one was fairy-born, like Morgaine herself. It might indeed be Lancelet's son, and so doubly near to Arthur's throne.\n\nThe child should be given to a wet nurse at once... and then Morgause hesitated. No doubt, when she was a little rested, Morgaine would want to hold and suckle her child; it always happened that way, no matter how difficult the birth. And the harder the birth, the more joy the mother seemed to have in nursing her babe; the worse the struggle, the more was the love and delight when the babe was actually put to her breast." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And then she thought, against her will, of Lot's words. If I want to see Gawaine on the throne, this child stands in his way. She had not wanted to listen when Lot said it, but with the child actually in her hands, she could not help thinking it would not be so evil a thing if this child were overlaid by his nurse, or too weak to take suck. And if Morgaine had never held him or suckled him, she would not feel as much grief; if it was the will of the Goddess that he should not live...\n\nI wantonly to spare her sorrow....\n\nMorgaine's child, probably by Lancelet, both of the old royal line of Avalon... should harm come to Arthur, the people would accept this child for his throne.\n\nBut she was not even sure it was Lancelet's child.\n\nAnd although Morgause had borne four sons, Morgaine was the little girl she had petted and cared for like a doll, carried in her arms; she had brushed her hair and washed her and brought her gifts. Could she do this to Morgaine's own child? Who was to say Arthur would not have a dozen sons by his queen, whoever she was?\n\nBut Lancelet's son... yes, Lancelet's son she could abandon to death without a qualm. Lancelet was no closer kin to Arthur than Gawaine, yet Arthur preferred him, turned to Lancelet in everything. Just as she herself had always stood in Viviane's shadow, the unregarded sister, passed over for High Queen-she had never forgiven Viviane that she had chosen Igraine for Uther-just so, the loyal Gawaine would always stand in the shadow of the more flamboyant Lancelet. If Lancelet had played with Morgaine or dishonored her, all the more reason to hate him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For there was no reason Morgaine should bear Lancelet's bastard child in secrecy and sorrow. Did Viviane think her precious son too good for Morgaine, perhaps? Morgause had seen that the girl wept in secret all during these long months; was she sick with love and abandonment?\n\nViviane, damn her, uses lives like knucklebones to be cast in play! She flung Igraine into Uther's arms without thought for Gorlois, she claimed Morgaine for Avalon; will she make wreck of Morgaine's life too?\n\nIf she could only be sure it was Lancelet's child!\n\nAs she had regretted, when Morgaine was in labor, that she had not enough magic to ease the birth, so now she regretted how little she knew of magic. She had not, when she dwelt in Avalon, had the interest nor the persistence to study the Druid lore. But still, as Viviane's fosterling, she had learned one thing and another from the priestesses, who had petted and spoilt her; offhand and good-naturedly, as one indulges a child, they had shown her certain simple spells and magics.\n\nWell, now she would use them. She shut the doors of the chamber and lighted anew fire; she clipped three hairs from the silky down on the child's head, and bending over the sleeping Morgaine, cut a few of her hairs too. She pricked the child's finger with her bodkin, rocking him after to hush the fitful squalling; then, casting secret herbs on the fire with the hairs and blood, she whispered a word she had been taught, and stared into the flames. And caught her breath in silence as the flames swirled, died, and fora momenta face looked out at her-a young face, crowned with fair hair and shadowed by antlers casting a darkness over the blue eyes that were like Uther's...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Morgaine had spoken truth when she said he had come to her as the Horned God; yet she had lied...." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgause should have known; they had made the Great Marriage for Arthur, then, before his crowning. Had Viviane planned this too, a child that should be born of the two royal lines? There was a small sound behind her and she looked up, to see that Morgaine had struggled to her feet and was standing there, clinging to the bed frame, her face white as death.\n\nHer lips hardly moved; only her dark eyes, sunken deep in her head with suffering, flickered from the fire to the sorcerous things on the floor before the hearth. \"Morgause,\" she said, \"swear tome-if you love me, swear tome-that you will speak nothing of this to Lot or to any other! Swear it, or I will curse you with all the curses I know!\"\n\nMorgause laid the child in the cradle and turned to Morgaine, taking her arm and leading her back to the bed.\n\n\"Come, lie down, rest, little one-we must talk about this. Arthur! Why? Was it Viviane's doing?\"\n\nMorgaine repeated, even more agitated, \"Swear to say nothing! Swear never to speak of it again! Swear it! Swear it!\" Her eyes glittered wildly. Morgause, looking at her, was afraid she would work herself into a fever. \"Morgaine, child-\"\n\n\"Swear! Or I curse you by wind and fire, sea and stone-\" \"No!\" Morgause interrupted her, taking her hands to try to calm her. \"See, I swear it, I swear.\"\n\nShe had not wanted to swear. She thought, I should have refused, I should talk of this with Lot... but it was too late, now she had sworn... and Morgause had no wish to be cursed by a priestess of Avalon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Lie still, now,\" she said quietly. \"You must sleep, Morgaine.\" The younger woman closed her eyes, and Morgause sat petting her hand and thinking. Gawaine is Arthur's man, whatever happens. Lot would get no good from Gawaine on the throne. This-no matter how many sons Arthur may have, this is his first Arthur was reared Christian and makes much of being king over Christians; he would think this child of incest his shame. It is just as well to know some evil secret of a king. Even of Lot, though I love him well, I have made it my business to know certain details of his sins and lecheries.\n\nThe cradled child woke and squalled. Morgaine, as all mothers when a child cries, opened her eyes at the sound. She was almost too weak to move, but she whispered, \"My baby-is that my baby? Morgause, I want to hold my baby.\"\n\nMorgause bent and started to put the swaddled bundle into her arms. Then she hesitated; if Morgaine once held the child, she would wish to suckle him, she would love him, she would concern herself about his welfare. But if he was put to a wet nurse before she ever looked on his face... well, then, she would not feel anything much for him, and he would be truly the child of his foster-parents. It was just as well to have Arthur's firstborn son, the son he dared not acknowledge, feel the highest loyalty to Lot and Morgause as his truest parents; that Lot's sons should be his brothers, rather than any sons Arthur might have when he should marry.\n\nTears were sliding weakly down Morgaine's face. She begged, \"Give me my baby, Morgause, let me hold my baby, I want him-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgause said tenderly but relentlessly, \"No, Morgaine; you are not strong enough to hold him and suckle him, and\"-she groped quickly fora lie which the girl, unskilled in midwifery, would believe-\"if you hold him even once, he will not suck from his wet nurse's breasts, so he must be given to her right away. You can hold him when you area little stronger and he is feeding well.\" And, though Morgaine began to cry and held out her arms, sobbing, Morgause carried the child out of the room. Now, she thought, this will be Lot's fosterling, and we will always have a weapon against the High King. And now I have made certain that Morgaine, when she is well enough, will care little for him and be content to leave him tome.\n\nGwenhwyfar, daughter of King Leodegranz, sat on the high wall of the enclosed garden, clinging to the stones with both hands and watching the horses in the paddock below.\n\nBehind her was the sweet smell of kitchen herbs and potherbs, the still-room herbs her father's wife used to make medicines and simples. The garden was one of her favorite places, perhaps the only outdoor place Gwenhwyfar really liked. She felt safer indoors, as a rule, or when securely enclosed-the walls around the kitchen garden made it nearly as safe as inside the castle. Up here, on top of the wall, she could see out over the valley, and there was so much of it, stretching farther than the eye could see.... Gwenhwyfar turned her look back to the safety of the garden fora moment, for her hands were beginning to tingle with the numbness again, and her breath felt tight in her throat. Here, right on the very wall which enclosed her own garden, here it was safe; if she began to feel the strangling panic again she could turn and slide down the wall arid be safe again inside the garden." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her father's wife, Alienor, had asked her once in exasperation, when she said something like this, \"Safe from what, child? The Saxons never come so far west as this. Where we are on the hill, we could see them three leagues off if they should come-it's the long view we have here that makes us safe, in heaven's name!\"\n\nGwenhwyfar could never explain. Put like that it sounded sensible. How could she tell the sensible, practical Alienor that it was the very weight of all that sky and the wide lands which frightened her? There was nothing to be frightened of, and it was foolish to be frightened.\n\nBut that did not stop her from gasping and breathing hard and feeling the numbness rising up from her belly into her throat, her sweating hands losing all feeling. They were all exasperated with her-the house priest telling her that there was nothing out there but God's good green lands, her father shouting that he'd have none of that womanish nonsense in his house-and so she had learned never to whisper it aloud. Only in the convent had anyone understood. Oh, the dear convent where she had felt as snug as a mouse in her hole, and never, never having to go out of doors at all, except into the enclosed cloister garden. She would like to be back there, but now she was a woman grown, and her stepmother had little children and needed Gwenhwyfar.\n\nThe thought of marrying made her afraid, too. But then she should have her own house where she could do as she would and she would be the mistress; no one would dare to make fun of her!\n\nDown below, the horses were running, but Gwenhwyfar's eyes were focused on the slender man in red, with dark curls shading his tanned brow, who moved among them. As swift he was as the horses themselves; she could well understand the name his Saxon foes gave him: Elf-arrow. Someone had whispered to her that he himself had fairy blood. Lancelet of the Lake, he called himself, and she had seen him in the magical Lake, that dreadful day when she had been lost, in the company of the terrible fairy woman." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet had caught the horse he wanted; one or two of her father's men shouted a warning, and Gwenhwyfar drew a breath of terror, herself wanting to cry out in dismay; that horse not even the king rode, only one or two of his best trainers. Lancelet, laughing, gestured disdain of their warning; he let the trainer come and hold the horse while he strapped the saddle on it. She could just hear his laughing voice.\n\n\"What good would it do to ride a lady's palfrey, which anyone could ride with a bridle of plaited straw? I want you to see-with leathers fitted like this, I can control the fiercest horse you have, and make him into a battle steed! Here, this way-\" He gave a tug to a buckle somewhere under the horse, then swung himself up one-handed. The horse reared up; Gwenhwyfar watched with her mouth open as he leaned into it, forcing the horse down and under control, making it walk sedately. The spirited animal fidgeted, stepping sideways, and Lancelet gestured for one of the king's foot soldiers to give him along pike.\n\n\"Now see-\" he shouted. \"Supposing that bale of straw there is a Saxon coming at me with one of those great blunt swords of theirs...\" and he let the horse go, pounding hard across the paddock; the other horses scattered as he came sweeping down on the straw bale and impaling it on the long pike, then snatching his sword from its scabbard as he whirled, checking the horse in mid gallop, swinging the sword about him in great circles. Even the king stepped back as he thundered toward them. He brought the animal to a full stop before the king, slid off and bowed.\n\n\"My lord! I ask for leave to train horses and men, so that you may lead them into battle when the Saxons come again, to defeat them as he did at Celidon Wood last summer. We have had victories, but one day there will be a mighty battle which will decide for all time whether Saxon or Roman will rule this land. We are training all the horses we can get, but yours are better than those we can buy or breed.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I have not sworn allegiance to Arthur,\" her father said. \"Uther was another matter; he was a tried soldier and Ambrosius' man. Arthur is little more than a boy-\"\n\n\"You still believe that, after the battles he has won?\" Lancelet asked. \"He has held his throne now for more than a year, he is your High King, sir. Whether you have sworn or not, every battle he fights against the Saxons protects you, too. Horses and men-that is little enough to ask.\"\n\nLeodegranz nodded. \"This is no place to discuss the strategy of a kingdom, sir Lancelet. I have seen what you can do with the horse. He is yours, my guest.\"\n\nLancelet bowed low and thanked King Leodegranz formally, but Gwenhwyfar saw his eyes shine like those of a delighted boy. Gwenhwyfar wondered how old he was.\n\n\"Come within my hall,\" her father said, \"we will drink together, and I will make you an offer.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar slid down from the wall and ran through the garden to the kitchens, where her father's wife was supervising the baking women. \"Madam, my father will becoming in with the High King's emissary, Lancelet; they will want food and drink.\"\n\nAlienor gave her a startled glance. \"Thank you, Gwenhwyfar. Go and make yourself tidy and you may serve the wine. I am far too busy.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar ran to her room, pulled her best gown on over the simple kirtle she wore, and hung a string of coral beads about her neck. She unbraided her fair hair and let it fall, rippled from the tight braiding. Then she put on the little gold maiden's circlet she wore, and went down, composing her steps and moving lightly; she knew the blue gown became her as no other color, no matter how costly, could do." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She fetched a bronze basin, filled it with warmed water from the kettle hanging near the fire, and strewed rose leaves in it; she came into the hall as her father and Lancelet were entering. She set down her basin, took their cloaks and hung them on the peg, then came and offered them the warmed, scented water to wash their hands. Lancelet smiled, and she knew he had recognized her.\n\n\"Did we not meet on the Isle of the Priests, lady?\"\n\n\"You have met my daughter, sir?\"\n\nLancelet nodded, and Gwenhwyfar said, in her shyest little voice-she had found, long ago, that it displeased her father if she spoke out boldly'-\"Father, he showed me the way to my convent door when I was lost.\"\n\nLeodegranz smiled at her indulgently. \"My little featherhead, if she goes three steps from her own doorway, she is lost. Well, sir Lancelet, what do you think of my horses?\"\n\n\"I have told you-they are better than any we can buy or breed,\" he said. \"We have some from the Moorish realms down in Spain, and we have bred them with the highland ponies, so we have horses that are sturdy and can endure our climate, but are swift and brave. But we need more. We can breed only so many. You have more than enough, and I can show you how to train them so you can lead them into battle-\"\n\n\"No,\" the king interrupted, \"I am an old man. I have no desire to learn new battle methods. I have been four times married, but all my former wives bore only sickly girls who die before they are weaned, sometimes before they are baptized. I have daughters; when the eldest marries, her husband will lead my men into battle, and can train them as he will. Tell your High King to come here, and we will discuss the matter.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet said, a little stiffly, \"I am my lord Arthur's cousin and his captain, sire, but even I do not tell him to come and go.\"\n\n\"Beseech him, then, to come to an old man who does not want to ride out from his own fireside,\" the king said, a little wryly. \"If he will not come for me, perhaps he will come to know how I will dispose of my horses and the armed men to ride them.\"\n\nLancelet bowed. \"No doubt he will.\"\n\n\"Enough of this, then; pour us some wine, daughter,\" the king said, and Gwenhwyfar came shyly and poured wine into their cups. \"Now run along, my girl, so that my guest and I may talk together.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar, dismissed, waited in the garden until a servant came out and called for the lord Lancelet's horse and armor. The horse he had ridden here and the horse her father had given him were brought to the door, and she watched from the shadow of the wall until she saw him ride away; then she stepped out and stood waiting. Her heart pounded-would he think her too bold? But he saw her and smiled, and the smile seized her very heart.\n\n\"Are you not afraid of that great fierce horse?\"\n\nLancelet shook his head. \"My lady, I do not believe the horse was ever foaled that I cannot ride.\"\n\nShe said, almost whispering, \"Is it true that you control horses with your magic?\"\n\nHe threw back his head with a ringing laugh. \"By no means, lady; I have no magic. I like horses and I understand their ways and the way their minds work-that is all. Do I look to you like a sorcerer?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"But-they say you have fairy blood,\" she said, and his laughter grew grave." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He said, \"My mother was indeed one of the old race who ruled this land before the Roman people ever came here, or even the northern Tribesmen. She is priestess on the Isle of Avalon, and a very wise woman.\"\n\n\"I can see that you would not want to speak ill of your mother,\" Gwenhwyfar said, \"but the sisters on Ynis Witrin said that the women of Avalon were evil witches and served the devils....\"\n\nHe shook his head, still grave. \"Not so,\" he said. \"I do not know my mother well; I was fostered elsewhere. I fear her, as much as I love. But I can tell you she is no evil woman. She brought my lord Arthur to the throne, and gave him his sword to stand against the Saxons-does that sound so evil to you? As for her magic-it is only the ignorant among them who say she is a sorceress. I think it well that a woman should be wise.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar hung her head. \"I am not wise; I am very stupid. Even among the sisters, I learned only enough to read my way through the mass book, which they said was all I needed of learning, and then such things as women learn-cookery and herbs and simples and the binding of wounds-\"\n\n\"For me, all that would be a greater mystery than the training of horses, which you think magic,\" Lancelet said, with his wide smile. Then he leaned down from his horse and touched her cheek. \"If God is good and the Saxons hold off a few moons yet, I will see you again, when I come herein the High King's train. Say a prayer for me, lady.\"\n\nHe rode away, and Gwenhwyfar stood watching, her heart pounding, but this time the sensation was almost pleasant. He would come again, he wanted to come again. And her father had said she should be married to someone who could lead horses and men into battle; who better than the High King's cousin and his captain of horse? Was he thinking, then, to marry her to Lancelet? She felt herself blush with delight and happiness. For the first time she felt pretty and bold and brave." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But inside the hall, her father said, \"A handsome man, this Elf-arrow, and good with horses, but far too handsome to be reckoned more than that.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar said, surprised at her own boldness, \"If the High King has made him his first of captains, he must be the best of fighters!\"\n\nLeodegranz shrugged. \"The King's cousin, he could hardly be left without some post in his armies. Has he tried to win your heart-or,\" he added, with the scowl that frightened her, \"your maidenhead?\"\n\nShe felt herself blushing again and was hopelessly angry at herself. \"No, he is an honorable man, and what he has said tome is no more than he could have said in your presence, Father.\"\n\n\"Well, don't get any ideas into that featherhead of yours,\" Leodegranz said gruffly. \"You can look higher than that one. He's no more than one of King Ban's bastards by God-knows-who, some damsel of Avalon!\"\n\n\"His mother is the Lady of Avalon, the great High Priestess of the Old People-and he is himself a king's son-\"\n\n\"Ban of Benwick! Ban has half a dozen legitimate sons,\" said her father. \"Why marry a king's captain? If all goes as I plan, you'll wed the High King himself!\"\n\nGwenhwyfar shrank away, saying, \"I'd be afraid to be the High Queen!\"\n\n\"You're afraid of everything, anyway,\" her father said brutally. \"That's why you need a man to take care of you, and better the King than the King's captain!\" He saw her mouth trembling and said, genial again, \"There, there, my girl, don't cry. You must trust me to know what's best for you. That's what I'm here for, to look after you and make a good marriage with a trusty man to look after my pretty little featherhead.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "If he had raged at her, Gwenhwyfar could have held onto her rebellion. But how, she thought wildly, can I complain of the best of fathers, who has only my own welfare at heart?\n\nOn a day in early spring, in the year following Arthur's crowning, the lady Igraine satin her cloister, bent over a set of embroidered altar linens. All her life she had loved this fine work, but as a young girl, and later, married to Gorlois, she had been kept busy-like all women-with the weaving and spinning and sewing of clothes for her household. As Uther's queen, with a household of servants, she had been able to spend her time on fine broideries and weaving of borders and ribbons in silk; and herein the nunnery she put her skill to good use. Otherwise, she thought a little ruefully, it would be for her as it was with so many of the nuns, the weaving only of the dark plain woolen dresses which all of them, including Igraine herself, wore, or the smooth, but boring, white linens for veils and coifs and altar cloths. Only two or three of the sisters could weave with silks or do fine embroidering, and of them Igraine was the cleverest.\n\nShe was a little troubled. Again, as she sat down at her frame this morning, she thought she heard the cry, and jerked around before she could stop herself; it seemed to her that somewhere Morgaine cried out'Mother!\" and the cry was one of agony and despair. But the cloister was quiet and empty around her, and after a moment Igraine made the sign of the cross and sat down again to her work.\n\nStill... resolutely she banished the temptation. Long ago she had renounced the Sight as the work of the fiend; with sorcery she would have no doings. She did not believe Viviane was evil in herself, but the Old Gods of Avalon were certainly allied to the Devil or they could not maintain their force in a Christian land. And she had given her daughter to those Old Gods. Late last summer Viviane had sent her a message saying, If Morgaine is with you, tell her that all is well. Troubled, Igraine had sent a reply that she had not seen Morgaine since Arthur's crowning; she had thought her still safe at Avalon. The Mother Superior of the convent had been dismayed at the thought of a messenger from Avalon to one of her ladies; even when Igraine explained that it was a message from her sister, the lady had still been displeased and said firmly that there could be no coming and going, even of messages, with that ungodly place." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Igraine, then, had been deeply troubled-if Morgaine had left Avalon, she must have quarrelled with Viviane. It was unheard of fora sworn priestess of the highest rank to leave the Island except upon the business of Avalon. For Morgaine to leave without the knowledge or permission of the Lady was so unprecedented that it made her blood run cold. Where could she have gone? Had she runaway with some paramour, was she living a lawless life without the rites either of Avalon or the church? Had she gone to Morgause? Was she lying somewhere dead? Nevertheless, although she prayed continually for her daughter, Igraine had resolutely refused the constant temptation to use the Sight.\n\nStill, much of this winter, it seemed that Morgaine had walked at her side; not the pale, somber priestess she had seen at the crowning, but the little girl who had been the only comfort, those desperate, lonely years in Cornwall, of the frightened child-wife, child-mother she had been. Little Morgaine, in a saffron gown and ribbons, a solemn child, dark-eyed in her crimson cloak; Morgaine with her little brother in her arms-her two children sleeping, dark head and golden close together on the one pillow. How often, she wondered, had she neglected Morgaine after she had come to her beloved Uther, and had borne him a son and heir to his kingdom? Morgaine had not been happy at Uther's court, nor had she ever had much love for Uther. And it was for that reason, as much as from Viviane's entreaty, that she had let Morgaine go to be fostered at Avalon.\n\nOnly now she felt guilty; had she not been overquick to send her daughter away, so that she might give all her thought to Uther and his children? Against her will, an old saying of Avalon rang in Igraine's mind: the Goddess does not shower her gifts on those who reject them... in sending her own children away, one to fosterage (for his own safety, she reminded herself, remembering Arthur lying white as death after the fall from the stallion) and the other to Avalon-in sending them away, had she herself sown the seed of loss? Was the Goddess unwilling to give her another child when she had let the first go so willingly? She had discussed this with her confessor, more than once, and he had reassured her that it was just as well to send Arthur away, every boy must go for fostering sooner or later; but, he said, she should not have sent Morgaine to Avalon. If the child was unhappy in Uther's court, she should have been sent to school in a nunnery somewhere." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She had thought, after hearing that Morgaine was not in Avalon, of sending a messenger to King Lot's court, to find out if she was there; but then the winter settled in in earnest, and everyday was anew battle against cold, chilblains, the vicious dampness everywhere; even the sisters went hungry in the depths of winter, sharing what food they had with beggars and peasants.\n\nAnd once in the hard weeks of winter, she thought she heard Morgaine's voice, crying-crying out for her in anguish: \"Mother! Mother!\" Morgaine, alone and terrified-Morgaine dying? Where, ah God, where? Her fingers clenched the cross which, like all the sisters of the convent, she wore at her belt. Lord Jesus, keep and guard her, Mary, Mother divine, even if she is a sinner and a sorceress... pity her, Jesus, as you pitied the dame of Magdala who was worse than she....\n\nIn dismay, she realized that a tear had dripped down on the fine work she was doing; it might spot the work. She wiped her eyes with her linen veil and held the embroidery frame further away, narrowing her eyes to see better-ah, she was getting old, her sight blurred a little from time to time; or was it tears that blurred her vision?\n\nShe bent resolutely over her embroidery again, but Morgaine's face seemed again to be before her, and she could hear in her imagination that despairing shriek, as if Morgaine's soul were being torn from her body. She herself had cried out like that, for the mother she could hardly remember, when Morgaine was born... did all women in childbirth cry out for their mothers? Terror gripped her. Morgaine in that desperate winter, giving birth somewhere... Morgause had made some such jest at Arthur's crowning, saying Morgaine was as squeamish with her food as a breeding woman. Against her will, Igraine found herself counting on her fingers; yes, if it had been so with her, Morgaine would have borne her child in the dead of winter. And now, even in that soft spring, she seemed to hear again that cry; she longed to go to her daughter, but where, where?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There was a step behind her and a tentative cough, and one of the young girls fostered in the nunnery said, \"Lady, there are visitors for you in the outer room; one of them is a churchman, the Archbishop himself!\"\n\nIgraine put her embroidery aside. After all, it was not spotted; all the tears women shed, they leave no mark on the world, she thought in bitterness. \"Why does the Archbishop, of all men living, wish to see me?\"\n\n\"He did not tell me, lady, and I do not think he told the Mother Superior either,\" said the little girl, not at all unwilling to gossip fora minute, \"but did you not send gifts to the church thereat the time of the High King's crowning?\"\n\nIgraine had, but she did not think the Archbishop would have come hereto speak of a past charity. Perhaps he wanted something more. Priests were seldom greedy for themselves but all priests, especially those from rich churches, were greedy for silver and gold for their altars.\n\n\"Who are the others?\" she asked, knowing that the young girl was eager to talk.\n\n\"Lady, I do not know, but I do know that the Mother Superior wanted to forbid one of them, because\"-her eyes grew wide-\"he is a wizard and sorcerer, so she said, and a Druid!\"\n\nIgraine rose. \"It is the Merlin of Britain, for he is my father, and he is no wizard, child, but a scholar trained in the crafts of the wise. Even the church fathers say that the Druids are good and noblemen, and worship with them in harmony, since they acknowledge God in all things, and Christ as one of many prophets of God.\"\n\nThe little girl dropped a small curtsey, acknowledging correction, as Igraine put away the embroidery work and adjusted her veil smoothly around her face." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When she came into the outer room, she saw not only the Merlin and a strange, austere man in the dark dress which churchmen were beginning to adopt to set them off from seculars, but a third man she hardly recognized, even when he turned; fora moment it was as if she looked into Other's face.\n\n\"Gwydion!\" she exclaimed, then, quickly amending, \"Arthur. Forgive me; I forgot.\" She would have knelt before the High King but he reached out quickly and prevented her.\n\n\"Mother, never kneel in my presence. I forbid it.\"\n\nIgraine bowed to the Merlin and to the dour, austere-looking Archbishop.\n\n\"This is my mother, Uther's queen,\" Arthur said, and the Archbishop responded, stretching his lips in what Igraine supposed was meant fora smile. \"But now she has a higher honor than royalty, in that she is a bride of Christ.\"\n\nHardly a bride, Igraine thought, simply a widow who has taken refuge in his house. But she did not say so, and bowed her head.\n\nArthur said, \"Lady, this is Patricius, Archbishop of the Isle of the Priests, now called Glastonbury, who has newly come there.\"\n\n\"Aye, by God's will,\" the Archbishop said, \"having lately driven out all the evil magicians from Ireland, I am come to drive them forth from all Christian lands. I found in Glastonbury a corrupt lot of priests, tolerating among them even the common worship with the Druids, at which our Lord who died for us would have wept tears of blood!\"\n\nTaliesin the Merlin said in his soft voice, \"Why, then, you would be harsher than Christ himself, brother? For he, I seem to remember, was greatly chided that he consorted with outcasts and sinners and even tax collectors, and such ladies as the Magdalen, when they would have had him a Nazarite like to John the Baptizer. And at last, even when he hung dying on his cross, he did promise the thief that that same night he would join him in Paradise-no?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I think too many people presume to read the divine Scriptures, and fall into just such errors as this,\" said Patricius sternly. \"Those who presume on their learning will learn, I trust, to listen to their priests for the true interpretations.\"\n\nThe Merlin smiled gently. \"I cannot join you in that wish, brother. I am dedicated to the belief that it is God's will that all men should strive for wisdom in themselves, not look to it from some other. Babes, perhaps, must have their food chewed for them by a nurse, but men may drink and eat of wisdom for themselves.\"\n\n\"Come, come!\" Arthur interrupted with a smile. \"I will have no controversies between my two dearest councillors. Lord Merlin's wisdom is indispensable tome; he set me on my throne.\"\n\n\"Sir,\" said the Archbishop, \"God set you there.\"\n\n\"With the help of the Merlin,\" said Arthur, \"and I pledged to him I would listen to his counsel always. Would you have me forsworn, Father Patricius?\" He spoke the name with the North country accent of the lands where he had been fostered. \"Come, Mother, sit down and let us talk.\"\n\n\"First let me send for wine to refresh you after your long ride here.\"\n\n\"Thank you, Mother, and if you will, send some, too, to Cai and Gawaine, who rode hither with me. They would not have me come unguarded. They insist on doing for me the service of chamberlains and grooms, as if I could not lift a hand for myself. I can do for myself as well as any soldier, with only the help of an ordinary groom or two, but they will not have it-\"\n\n\"Your Companions shall have the best,\" Igraine said, and went to give orders for food and wine to be served the strangers and all their retinue. Wine was brought for the guests, and Igraine poured it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How is it with you, my son?\" Looking him over, he seemed ten years older than the slightly built boy who had been crowned last summer. He had grown, it seemed, half a hand's span, and his shoulders were broader. There was a red seam on his face; it was already drawing cleanly together, God be praised... well, no soldier could escape a wound or two.\n\n\"As you see, Mother, I have been fighting, but God has spared me,\" he said. \"And now I come hereon a peaceful mission. But how is it with you here?\"\n\nShe smiled. \"Oh, nothing happens here,\" she said. \"But I had word from Avalon that Morgaine had left the Island. Is she at your court?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"Why, no, Mother, I've hardly a court worth the name,\" he said. \"Cai keeps my castle-I had to force it on him, he'd rather ride with me to war, but I bade him stay and keep my house secure. And two or three of Father's old knights, too old to ride, are therewith their wives and youngest sons. Morgaine's at the court of Lot-Gawaine told meas much when his brother came south to fight in my armies, young Agravaine. He said Morgaine had come to attend on his mother; he'd only seen her a time or two, but she was well and seemed in good spirits; she plays on the harp for Morgause, and keeps the keys of her spice cupboard. I gather Agravaine was quite charmed with her.\" A look of pain passed over his face, and Igraine wondered at it but said nothing.\n\n\"God be thanked that Morgaine is safe among kindred. I have been frightened for her.\" This was not the time, certainly not with churchmen present, to inquire whether Morgaine had borne a child. \"When did Agravaine come south?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It was early in the fall, was it not, Lord Merlin?\"\n\n\"I believe it was.\"\n\nThen Agravaine would have known nothing; she herself had seen Morgaine and never guessed. If indeed it had been so with Morgaine, and not a fantasy born of her own imaginings.\n\n\"Well, Mother, I came to speak of women's affairs, at that-it seems I should be married. I have no heir but Gawaine-\"\n\n\"I like not that,\" Igraine said. \"Lot has been waiting for that all these many years. Don't trust his son behind you.\"\n\nArthur's eyes blazed with anger. \"Even you shall not speak so of my cousin Gawaine, Mother! He is my sworn Companion, and I love him as the brother I never had, even as I love Lancelet! If Gawaine wished for my throne, he need only have relaxed his vigilance for five minutes, and I would have a split neck, not this slash on my face, and Gawaine would be High King! I would trust him with life and honor!\"\n\nIgraine was amazed at his vehemence. \"Then I am glad you have so loyal and trusty a follower, my son.\" She added, with a caustic smile, \"That must be a grief indeed to Lot, that his sons love you so well!\"\n\n\"I know not what I have done that they should wish me so well, but they do, for which I consider myself blessed.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" Taliesin said, \"Gawaine will be staunch and loyal to death, Arthur, and beyond if God wills.\"\n\nThe Archbishop said austerely, \"Man cannot presume to know God's will-\"\n\nTaliesin ignored him and said, \"More trusty even than Lancelet, Arthur, though it grieves me to say so.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Arthur smiled, and Igraine thought, with a pang at heart, he has all of Uther's charm, he too can inspire great loyalty in his followers! How like his father he is! Arthur said, \"Come, I will chide even you, Lord Merlin, if you speak so of my dearest friend. Lancelet too I would trust with my life and my honor.\"\n\nMerlin said, with a sigh, \"Oh, yes, with your life you may trust him, I am sure.... I am not sure he will not break in the final test, but certainly he loves you well and would guard your life beyond his own.\"\n\nPatricius said, \"Certainly Gawaine is a good Christian, but I am not so sure about Lancelet. A time will come, I trust, when all these folk who call themselves Christian and are not maybe revealed as the demon worshippers they are in truth. Whosoever will not accept the authority of Holy Church about the will of God are even as Christ says-\"Ye who are not for me are against me.\" Yet allover Britain there are those who are little better than pagans. In Tara I dealt with these, when I lighted the Paschal fires for Easter on one of their unholy hills, and the king's Druids could not stand against me. Yet even in the hallowed Isle of Glastonbury, where the sainted Joseph of Arimathea walked, I find the very priests worshipping a sacred well! This is heathendom! I will close it if I must appeal to the Bishop of Rome himself!\"\n\nArthur smiled and said, \"I cannot imagine that the Bishop of Rome would have the slightest idea what is going on in Britain.\"\n\nTaliesin said gently, \"Father Patricius, you would do a great disservice to the people of this land if you close their sacred well. It is a gift from God-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"It is apart of pagan worship.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The eyes of the Archbishop glowed with the austere fire of the fanatic.\n\n\"It comes from God,\" the old Druid insisted, \"because there is nothing in this universe which does not come from God, and simple people need simple signs and symbols. If they worship God in the waters which flow from his bounty, how is that evil?\"\n\n\"God cannot be worshipped in symbols which are made by man-\"\n\n\"There you are in total agreement with me, my brother,\" said the Merlin, \"fora part of the Druid wisdom lies in the saying that God, who is beyond all, cannot be worshipped in any dwelling made by human hands, but only under his own sky. And yet you build churches and deck them richly with gold and silver. Wherefore, then, is the evil in drinking from the sacred springs which God has made and blessed with vision and healing?\"\n\n\"The Devil gives you your knowledge of such things,\" Patricius said sternly, and Taliesin laughed.\n\n\"Ah, but God makes doubts and the Devil too, and in the end of time they will all come to him and obey his will.\"\n\nArthur interrupted, before Patricius could answer, \"Good fathers, we came here not to argue theology!\"\n\n\"True,\" said Igraine, relieved. \"We were speaking of Gawaine, and Morgause's other son-Agravaine, is it? And of your marriage.\"\n\n\"Pity,\" Arthur said, \"that since Lot's sons love me well, and Lot-I doubt it not-is eager to have his household heir with me to the High Kingship, that Morgause has not a daughter, so that I could be his son-in-law and he would know that his daughter's son was my heir.\"\n\n\"That would suit well,\" Taliesin said, \"for you are both of the royal line of Avalon.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Patricius frowned. \"Is not Morgause your mother's sister, my lord Arthur? Towed with her daughter would belittle better than bedding your own sister!\"\n\nArthur looked troubled. Igraine said, \"I agree; even if Morgause had a daughter, it is not even to bethought of.\"\n\nArthur said, plaintively, \"I should find it easy to be fond of a sister of Gawaine. The idea of marrying a stranger doesn't please me all that much, and I wouldn't think the girl would be pleased either!\"\n\n\"It happens to every woman,\" Igraine said, and was surprised to hear herself-was she still bitter over what was so long past? \"Marriages must be arranged by those with wiser heads than any young maiden could have.\"\n\nArthur sighed. He said, \"King Leodegranz has offered me his daughter-I forget her name-and has offered, too, that her dowry shall be a hundred of his best men, all armed and-hear this, Mother-each with the good horses he breeds, so that Lancelet may train them. This was one of the secrets of the Caesars, that their best cohorts fought on horseback; before them, none but the Scythians ever used horses except to move supplies and sometimes for riders to send messages. If I had four hundred men who could fight as cavalry-well, Mother, I could drive the Saxons back to their shores yelping like their own hounds!\"\n\nIgraine laughed. \"That hardly seems reason to marry, my son. Horses can be bought, and men hired.\"\n\n\"But,\" Arthur said, \" Leodegranz is of no mind to sell. I think he has it in his mind that in return for this dowry-and it is a kingly dowry, doubt not-he would like it well to be bound by kinship's ties to the High King. Not that he is the only one, but he has offered more than any other will offer." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"What I wished to ask you, Mother-I am unwilling to send any ordinary messenger to tell the king that I'll take his daughter and he should bundle her up like a package and send her to my court." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Would you go and give my answer to the king, and escort her to my court?\"\n\nIgraine started to nod her agreement, then remembered that she had taken vows in this place. \"Can you not send one of your trusty men, Gawaine or Lancelet?\"\n\n\"Gawaine is a wencher. I am not so sure I want him within reach of my bride,\" Arthur said, laughing. \"Let it be Lancelet.\"\n\nThe Merlin said somberly, \"Igraine, I feel you should go.\"\n\n\"Why, Grandfather,\" Arthur said, \"has Lancelet such charms that you fear my bride will love him instead?\"\n\nTaliesin sighed. Igraine said quickly, \"I will go, if the abbess of this place gives me leave.\" The Mother Superior, she thought, could not refuse her leave to attend her son's wedding. And she realized that after years of being a queen, it was not easy to sit quietly behind walls and await tidings of the great events moving in the land. That was, perhaps, every woman's lot, but she would avoid it as long as she could.\n\nGwenhwyfar felt the familiar nausea gripping the pit of her stomach; she began to wonder if before they set forth she would have to run at once to the privy. What would she do if the need came on her after she had mounted and ridden out? She looked at Igraine, who stood tall and composed, rather like the Mother Superior of her old convent. Igraine had seemed kind and motherly on that first visit, a year ago, when the marriage had been arranged. Now, come to escort Gwenhwyfar to her bridal, she seemed stern and demanding, with no trace of the terror that gripped at Gwenhwyfar. How could she be so calm? Gwenhwyfar ventured, in a small voice, peering at the waiting horses and litter, \"Aren't you afraid? It's so far-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Afraid? Why, no,\" said Igraine, \"I have been to Caerleon many times, and it's not likely the Saxons are on the road to war this time. Travelling in winter is troublesome, with mud and rain, but better that than fall into the hands of the barbarians.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar felt the shock and shame gripping her, and clenched her fists, looking down at her sturdy, ugly travelling shoes.\n\nIgraine reached out and took her hand, smoothing the small fingers. \"I had forgotten, you have never been from home before, except to and from your convent. You were in Glastonbury, were you not?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar nodded. \"I wish I were going back there-\"\n\nShe felt Igraine's sharp eyes on her fora moment, and quailed; perhaps the lady would know she was unhappy at marrying her son, and come to dislike her... but Igraine only said, holding her hand firmly, \"I was not happy when I went first to be wedded to the Duke of Cornwall, I was not happy until I held my daughter in my arms. But I had scarce completed my fifteenth year; you are almost eighteen, are you not?\"\n\nClinging to Igraine's hand, Gwenhwyfar felt a little less panic; but even so, as she stepped outside the gate, it seemed that the sky overhead was avast menace, threatening, low, filled with rainclouds. The path before the house was a sea of mud where the horses had been trampling. Now they were being drawn up into riding order with more men, it seemed to Gwenhwyfar, than she had ever seen together in her life, shouting and calling to each other, the horses neighing and the yard full of confusion. But Igraine held her hand tightly and Gwenhwyfar, shrinking, followed her." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Advance the storyline as the writer's tale partner.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 4" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Afraid? Why, no,\" said Igraine, \"I have been to Caerleon many times, and it's not likely the Saxons are on the road to war this time. Travelling in winter is troublesome, with mud and rain, but better that than fall into the hands of the barbarians.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar felt the shock and shame gripping her, and clenched her fists, looking down at her sturdy, ugly travelling shoes.\n\nIgraine reached out and took her hand, smoothing the small fingers. \"I had forgotten, you have never been from home before, except to and from your convent. You were in Glastonbury, were you not?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar nodded. \"I wish I were going back there-\"\n\nShe felt Igraine's sharp eyes on her fora moment, and quailed; perhaps the lady would know she was unhappy at marrying her son, and come to dislike her... but Igraine only said, holding her hand firmly, \"I was not happy when I went first to be wedded to the Duke of Cornwall, I was not happy until I held my daughter in my arms. But I had scarce completed my fifteenth year; you are almost eighteen, are you not?\"\n\nClinging to Igraine's hand, Gwenhwyfar felt a little less panic; but even so, as she stepped outside the gate, it seemed that the sky overhead was avast menace, threatening, low, filled with rainclouds. The path before the house was a sea of mud where the horses had been trampling. Now they were being drawn up into riding order with more men, it seemed to Gwenhwyfar, than she had ever seen together in her life, shouting and calling to each other, the horses neighing and the yard full of confusion. But Igraine held her hand tightly and Gwenhwyfar, shrinking, followed her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am grateful that you came to escort me, lady-\"\n\nIgraine smiled. \"I am all too worldly-I like a chance to travel beyond convent walls.\" She made along step to avoid a pile of horse dung which steamed in the mud. \"Mind your step, there, child-look, your father has set aside these two fine ponies for us. Do you like riding?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar shook her head, and whispered, \"I thought I could ride in a litter-\"\n\n\"Why, so you can, if you wish,\" Igraine said, looking at her wonderingly, \"but you will grow very weary of it, I should think. When my sister Viviane went on her travels, she used to wear men's breeches. I should have found you a pair, though at my age it would hardly be seemly.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar blushed scarlet. \"I couldn't,\" she said, shaking, \"it's forbidden fora woman to put on the clothes of a man, so it says in Holy Writ-\"\n\nIgraine chuckled. \"The Apostle seemed to know little of the North country. It is hot where he lived,\" she said, \"and I have heard that the men in that country where our Lord lived knew nothing of breeches, but wore long gowns as some Roman men did and do still. I think it meant only that women were not to wear the garb of some particular man, not that they were not to wear clothing fashioned in a man's style. And certainly my sister Viviane is the most modest of women; she is a priestess of Avalon.\" Gwenhwyfar's eyes were wide. \"Is she a witch, madam?\"\n\n\"No, no, she is a wise-woman, learned in herbs and medicines, and having the Sight, but she has sworn avow never to hurt man nor beast. She does not even eat flesh food,\" Igraine said. \"She lives as austerely as any abbess. Look,\" she said, and pointed, \"there is Lancelet, Arthur's chief Companion. He has come to escort us, and to bring back the horses and men-\" Gwenhwyfar smiled, feeling a blush spread to her cheeks. She said, \"I know Lancelet, he came to show my father what he could do with the horses.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Igraine said, \"Aye; he rides like one of those centaurs the ancients used to speak of, half horse and half man!\"\n\nLancelet swung down from his horse. His cheeks were as crimson with the cold as the Roman cloak he wore; the collar was turned high around his face. He bowed to the ladies.\n\n\"Madam,\" he said to Igraine, \"are you ready to ride?\"\n\n\"I think so. The princess's luggage is already loaded on that cart, I think,\" Igraine said, looking at the bulky wagon loaded high and covered with skins: abed frame and furnishings, a great carved chest, a large and a small loom, pots and kettles.\n\n\"Aye. I hope it does not get mired in all this mud,\" Lancelet said, looking at the yoke of oxen hauling it. \"It is not that wagon I am worried about, but the other-the king's wedding gift to Arthur,\" he added, without enthusiasm, looking at the second, much larger cart. \"I would have thought it better to have a table built for the King's house in Caerleon, if Uther had not left tables and furniture enough-not that I begrudge my lady her bride furniture,\" he added, with a quick smile at Gwenhwyfar that made her cheeks glow, \"but a table, as if my Lord Arthur had not enough furniture for his hall?\"\n\n\"Ah, but that table is one of my father's treasures,\" said Gwenhwyfar. \"It was a prize of war from one of the kings of Tara, where my grandsire fought him and carried off his best mead-hall table... it is round, you see, so a bard can sit at the center to sing to them, or the servants pass round to pour wine or beer. And when he entertained his fellow kings he need not set one higher than another... so my father thought it fitting fora High King, who must also seat his well-born Companions without preferring one above the other.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is truly a king's gift,\" Lancelet said politely, \"but it takes three yoke of oxen to haul it, lady, and God alone knows how many joiners and carpenters to put it together again when we have come there, so that instead of travelling at the pace of a company of horse we must plod along at the pace of the slowest ox. Ah well, the wedding cannot begin until you get there, my lady.\" He cocked up his head, listened and shouted, \"I will come in a minute, man! I cannot be everywhere at once!\" He bowed. \"Ladies, I must get this army moving! Can I help you to your horses?\"\n\n\"I think Gwenhwyfar wants to travel in the litter,\" said Igraine.\n\nLancelet said, with a smile, \"Why, it is as if the sun went behind a cloud then-but you do as you will, lady. I hope you will shine out onus again another day perhaps.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar felt pleasantly embarrassed, as she always did when Lancelet made his pretty speeches. She never knew whether he was serious or whether he was teasing her. Suddenly, as he rode away, she felt afraid again. The horses towering around her, the hordes of men coming and going-it was as if they really were the army Lancelet had called them, and she no more than an unregarded piece of luggage, almost a prize of war. Silent, she let Igraine help her into the litter, which was covered with cushions and a fur rug, and she curled up in a corner of it.\n\n\"Shall I leave the curtains of the litter open so we can have some light and air?\" Igraine asked, settling herself comfortably in the cushions.\n\n\"No!\" said Gwenhwyfar in a choking voice. \"I-I feel better with them closed.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "With a shrug, Igraine closed the curtains." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She looked out through a crack, watching the first of the horsemen ride out, the wagons swing into line. A kingly dowry, indeed, all these men. Armed horsemen, with weapons and gear, to be added to Arthur's armies-it was almost like what she had heard of a Roman legion.\n\nGwenhwyfar's head was on the pillows, her face white, her eyes shut.\n\n\"Are you sick?\" Igraine asked in wonder.\n\nGwenhwyfar shook her head. \"It's just-so big-\" she said. \"I'm-I m afraid,\" she whispered.\n\n\"Afraid? But my dear child-\" Igraine broke off, and after a moment said, \"Well, you'll feel better soon.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar, her arms crossed over her eyes, hardly knew it when the litter began moving; she had willed herself into a state of half-sleep in which she could hold the panic at bay. Where was she going, under that huge all-covering sky, over the wide moors and through so many hills? The knot of panic in her belly pulled tighter and tighter. All round her she heard the sounds of horses and men, an army on the march. She was merely part of the furniture of the horses and men and their gear and a mead table. She was only a bride with all that properly belonged to her, clothes and gowns and jewels and a loom and a kettle and some combs and hackles for spinning flax. She was not herself, there was nothing for herself, she was only some property of a High King who had not even bothered to come and seethe woman they were sending along with all the horses and gear. She was another mare, a broodmare this time for the High King's stud service, hopefully to provide a royal son." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar thought she would smother with the rage that was choking her. But no, she must not be angry, it was not seemly to be angry; the Mother Superior had told her in the convent that it was a woman's proper business to be married and bear children. She had wanted to be a nun and stay in the convent and learn to read and make beautiful letters with 1 her clever pen and brush, but that was not suitable fora princess; she must obey her father's will as if it were the will of God. Women had to be' especially careful to do the will of God because it was through a woman I that mankind had fallen into Original Sin, and every woman must be aware 1 that it washer work to atone for that Original Sin in Eden. No woman could ever be really good except for Mary the Mother of Christ; all other women were evil, they had never had any chance to be anything but evil. This washer punishment for being like Eve, sinful, filled with rage and rebellion against the will of God. She whispered a prayer and willed herself into semiconsciousness again.\n\nIgraine, resigning herself to riding behind closed curtains although\| craving fresh air, wondered what in the world was wrong with the girl. She had not said a word against the marriage-well, she, Igraine, had not rebelled against her marriage to Gorlois, either; remembering the angry and terrified child she had been, she sympathized with Gwenhwyfar. But, why should the girl huddle behind curtains instead of going with her head up to meet her new life? What was she afraid of? Did Arthur seem such monster? It was not as if she were marrying an old man, three times her age; Arthur was young, quite ready to give her honor and respect.\n\nThey slept that night in a tent pitched on a carefully chosen dry spot listening to the winds and the rain moaning and pelting down. Igraine wok once in the night to hear Gwenhwyfar whimper." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is the matter, child? Are you sick?\"\n\n\"No-lady, do you think Arthur will like me?\"\n\n\"There is no reason he should not,\" Igraine said gently. \"You certainly know you are beautiful.\"\n\n\"Am I?\" In her soft voice, it sounded only naive, not the self-conscious or coy plea for compliment or reassurance that it would have been in another. \"Lady Alienor said my nose was too big, and that I had freckles like a cowherd.\"\n\n\"Lady Alienor-\" Igraine reminded herself to be charitable; Alienor was not much older than Gwenhwyfar, and had borne four children in six years. \"I think perhaps she is a little shortsighted. You are lovely indeed. You have the most beautiful hair I have ever seen.\"\n\n\"I don't think Arthur cares for beauty,\" Gwenhwyfar said. \"He did not even send to inquire if I were cross-eyed or one-legged or had a squint or a harelip.\"\n\n\"Gwenhwyfar,\" said Igraine gently, \"every woman is wedded for her dowry, but a High King, too, must marry as his councillors bid him. Do you not think he is lying wakeful of nights, wondering what fortune the lottery has cast him, and that he will not greet you with gratitude and joy because you bring him beauty and good temper and learning as well? He was resigned to taking whatever he must, but he will be all the happier when he discovers that you are not-what was it?-harelipped or pockmarked or cross-eyed. He is young, and has not much experience with women. And Lancelet, I am sure, has told him that you are beautiful and virtuous.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar let out her breath. \"Lancelet is Arthur's cousin, is he not?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"True." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He is son to Ban of Benwick by my sister, who is the Great Priestess of Avalon. He was born in the Great Marriage-know you anything of that? In Less Britain, some of the people call for the old pagan rites,\" Igraine said. \"Even Uther, when he was made High King, was taken to Dragon Island and crowned by the old rites there, though they did not demand of him that he marry the land; in Britain, that is done by the Merlin, so that he is sacrifice for the King if need be....\"\n\nGwenhwyfar said, \"I did not know these old pagan rites were still known in Britain. Was-was Arthur crowned so?\"\n\n\"If he was,\" said Igraine, \"he has not told me. Perhaps by now things have changed, and he is content that the Merlin should be only his chiefest of councillors.\"\n\n\"Do you know the Merlin, lady?\"\n\n\"He is my father.\"\n\n\"Is it so?\" Gwenhwyfar stared at her in the dark. \"Lady, is it true that when Uther Pendragon came to you before you were wedded to him, he came to you by the Merlin's arts in the magical disguise of Gorlois, so that you lay with him thinking he was Duke of Cornwall and you still a chaste and faithful wife?\"\n\nIgraine blinked; she had heard rumors of tales that she had borne Uther's son with unseemly haste, but this story she had never heard. \"They say that?\"\n\n\"Sometimes, lady. There are bards' tales about it.\"\n\n\"Well, it is not true,\" said Igraine. \"He wore Gorlois's cloak and bore Gorlois's ring which he had taken when they fought-Gorlois was traitor to his High King and his life forfeit. But whatever tales they tell, I knew perfectly well that it was Uther and no other.\" Her throat closed; even now, it seemed only as if Uther were still alive somewhere, away on campaign." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You loved Uther?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was not, then, the Merlin's magic?\"\n\n\"No,\" Igraine said, \"I loved him well, though I think at first he chose to marry me because I was of the old royal line of Avalon. And so, you see, a marriage made for the good of the kingdom can come to be happy. I loved Uther; I could wish just such good fortune for you, that you and my son may come to love one another that way.\"\n\n\"I hope that too.\" Gwenhwyfar clutched again at Igraine's hand. To Igraine the fingers felt small and soft, easily crushed, unlike her own strong, competent ones. This was not a hand for tending babes or wounded men, but for fine needlework or prayer. Leodegranz should have left this child in her convent, and Arthur sought elsewhere fora bride. Things would go as God had ordained; she was sorry for Gwenhwyfar's fright, but she was also sorry for Arthur, with a bride so childish and unwilling.\n\nYet, she herself had been no better when she was sent to Gorlois; perhaps the girl's strength would grow with the years.\n\nWith the first rays of the sun the camp was astir, making ready for the day's march that would bring them to Caerleon. Gwenhwyfar looked white and weak and when she tried to getup, she turned on her side and retched. Fora moment Igraine entertained an uncharitable suspicion, then put it aside; the girl, cloistered and timid, was ill with fright, no more. She said briskly, \"I told you the closed litter would make you queasy. Today you must get on your horse and take the fresh air, or we shall have you coming to your bridal with pale cheeks instead of roses.\" She added to herself, And if I must ride behind closed curtains for another day I shall certainly go mad; that would be a wedding to remember indeed, with a bride sick and pale, and the mother of the bridegroom raving. \"Come, if you will getup and ride, Lancelet shall ride with you, to gossip with you and cheer you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar braided her hair, and even gave some thought to the arranging of her veil; she ate little, but she did sip a little barley beer and put a bit of bread in her pocket, saying that she would eat it later, as she rode.\n\nLancelet had been out and about since first light. When Igraine suggested, \"You must ride with my lady. She is moping, she has never been from home before,\" his eyes lighted up and he smiled. \"It will be my pleasure, madam.\"\n\nIgraine rode alone behind the young people, glad of the solitude for her own thoughts. How handsome they were-Lancelet so dark and spirited and Gwenhwyfar all golden and white. Arthur was fair, too, their children would bedazzling. She realized with some surprise that she was looking forward to being a grandmother. It would be pleasant to have little children about, to pet them and play with them, but children who were not her own, over whom she need not worry and fret and trouble herself. She rode in a pleasant daydream; she had grown used to daydreaming a great deal in the convent. Looking ahead to the young people riding side by side, she saw that the girl sat her horse upright and had some color in her face and was smiling. Igraine had done right, to get her out into the air.\n\nAnd then she saw how they were looking at each other.\n\nDear God! Uther looked so at me when I was Gorlois's wife-as if he were starving and I were food high out of his reach.... What can possibly come of it if they love one another? Lancelet is honorable, and Gwenhwyfar, I would swear, virtuous, so what can possibly come of it except misery? Then she reproved herself for her suspicions; they were riding at a decent distance from one another, they did not seek to touch hands, they were smiling because they were young and it was a fair day; Gwenhwyfar rode to her wedding, and Lancelet brought horses and men to his king, his cousin, and friend. Why should they not be happy and talk with one another gaily and joyously? I am an evil-minded old woman. But she still felt troubled." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What will come of this? Dear God, would it be traitorous to you to pray fora moment of the Sight? And then she wondered-was there yet any honorable way for Arthur to get out of this marriage? For the High King towed a woman whose heart was already given, that would be a tragedy. Britain was filled with maidens ready to love him and wed him. But the dowry price was paid, the bride had left her father's house, the subject kings and liegemen were assembling to see their young King married.\n\nIgraine resolved to speak to the Merlin. As Arthur's chiefest councillor, perhaps he could yet prevent this marriage-but could even he prevent it without war and ruin? It would be a pity, too, for Gwenhwyfar to be publicly rejected like this, in the presence of all Britain. No, it was too late, the wedding must take place as it was fated. Igraine sighed and rode on, her head lowered and all the beauty gone from the bright day. She told herself, angrily, that all her doubts and fears were meaningless, an idle old woman's imaginings; or that all of these fantasies were sent of the Devil to tempt her into using the Sight she had renounced, and becoming again a tool of wickedness and sorcery.\n\nYet as she rode, her eyes kept returning to Gwenhwyfar and Lancelet, and to the almost visible haze that seemed to hover between them, an aura of hunger and desire and longing.\n\nThey arrived at Caerleon shortly before sunset. The castle stood on a hill, the site of an old Roman fort, and some of the old Roman stonework was still in place-it looked, Igraine thought, very much as it must have looked in Roman days. Fora moment, seeing the slopes covered with tents and people, she wondered dizzily if the place were under siege, but then she realized that all these folk must have come to seethe High King married. Seeing the crowd, Gwenhwyfar had turned pale and terrified again; Lancelet was trying to arrange the long draggled column into some vestige of dignity, and Gwenhwyfar put her veil down over her face and rode silent by Igraine." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is a pity they must all see you worn and travel-weary,\" Igraine agreed, \"but look, there is Arthur, come out to meet us.\"\n\nThe girl was so weary she hardly raised her head. Arthur, in along blue tunic, his sword in its preciously worked crimson scabbard swinging at his side, had stopped to speak fora moment to Lancelet, at the head of the column; then, die crowding men and riders separating as he walked through them, he came toward Igraine and Gwenhwyfar.\n\nHe bowed to his mother. \"Had you a good journey, madam?\" But he had raised his eyes to Gwenhwyfar, and Igraine saw his eyes widen at her beauty, and could almost read the younger girl's thoughts.\n\nYes, I am beautiful, Lancelet thinks me beautiful, will my lord Arthur be pleased with me?\n\nArthur held out his hand to support her as she dismounted; she tottered a little, and he stretched out both arms to her.\n\n\"My lady and wife, welcome to your home and to my house. May you be happy here, and may this day be as joyous for you as for me.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar felt the crimson rising in her cheeks. Yes, Arthur was handsome, she told herself fiercely, with that fair hair and the serious, level grey eyes. How different he seemed from Lancelet's madcap gaiety and mischief! And how differently he looked at her-Lancelet looked at her as if she were the statue of the Virgin on the altar at church, but Arthur was looking at her soberly, tentatively, as if she were a stranger and he was not yet sure whether friend or foe.\n\nShe said, \"I thank you, my husband and my lord. As you can see, I have brought you the promised dowry of men and horses-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How many horses?\" he asked quickly. Gwenhwyfar was confused. What did she know about his precious horses? Did he have to make it so clear that it was the horses and not herself which he awaited in this wedding business? She drew herself to her full height-she was taller than some men, and fora woman she was a good height-and said with dignity, \"I do not know, my lord Arthur, I have not counted them. You must ask your captain of horse. I am sure the lord Lancelet could tell you their number, to the last mare and the last foal at suck.\"\n\nOh, good girl, Igraine thought, seeing the color rise in Arthur's pale cheeks at the reproof. He smiled, ruefully. \"Forgive me, my lady, no one expects of you that you should concern yourself with such things. I am sure Lancelet will tell me all of this at the proper time. I was thinking, also, of the men who came with you-it seems fit that I should welcome them as my new subjects, as well as welcoming their lady and my queen.\" Fora moment he looked almost as young as he was. He looked around at the milling crowd of men, horses, carts, oxen, and drovers, and spread his hands helplessly. \"In all this hullabaloo, I doubt they could hear me anyway. Allow me to conduct you to the castle gates.\" He took her hand and led her along the path, searching for the driest places. \"I am afraid this is a dismal old place. It was my father's stronghold, but I never lived hereafter I was old enough to remember. Perhaps some year, if the Saxons let us alone fora time, we can find someplace better suited for our home, but for the moment this must suit.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Ashe led her through the gates Gwenhwyfar reached out and touched the wall. It was thick, secure Roman stone, piled high and standing as if it had been there since the beginning of the world; here all was safe. She ran her finger almost lovingly along the wall. \"I think it is beautiful. I am sure it will be safe-I mean, I am sure I will be happy here.\"\n\n\"I hope so, lady-Gwenhwyfar,\" he said, using her name for the first time, speaking it with a strange accent. She wondered suddenly where he had been reared. \"I am very young to be in charge of all these-all these men and kingdoms. I will be glad to have a helpmeet.\" She heard his voice tremble as if he were afraid-but what in the world could a man have to be afraid of? \"My uncle by marriage-Lot, King of Orkney-he is married to my mother's sister, Morgause, and Lot has said that his wife rules as well as he, when he is absent in war or council. I am willing to do you such honor, lady, and let you rule at my side.\"\n\nPanic clutched again at Gwenhwyfar's stomach. How could he expect that of her? How could it be a woman's place to rule? What did she care what the wild barbarians, these northern Tribesmen, did, or their barbarian women? She said, in a shaky little voice, \"I could never presume so far, my lord and my king.\"\n\nIgraine said firmly, \"Arthur, my son, what are you thinking of? The girl has been riding for two days and she is exhausted! This is no time to plot the strategy of kingdoms, with the mud of the road still on our shoes! I beg you, turn us over to your chamberlains, and there will be time enough to acquaint yourself with your bride tomorrow!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Arthur's skin, Gwenhwyfar thought, was fairer than her own; this was the second time she had seen him blush like a scolded child. \"I am sorry, Mother; and you, my lady.\" He raised his arm, signalling, and a dark, slender young man, with a scarred face and a pronounced limp, came unevenly toward them.\n\n\"My foster-brother, Cai, and my chamberlain,\" Arthur said. \"Cai, this is Gwenhwyfar, my lady and queen.\"\n\nCai bowed to her, with a smile. \"I am at your service.\"\n\n\"As you can see,\" Arthur said, \"my lady has brought her furniture and belongings. Lady, I welcome you to your own house. Give Cai whatever orders seem good to you, about whereto bestow your things. For now, I beg you give me leave to go; I must see to the men and horses and gear.\" He bowed low again, and it seemed to Gwenhwyfar that she could see relief on his face. She wondered if he was disappointed in her, or whether his only interest in this marriage was really in the dowry of horses and men, as she had thought. Well, she had been prepared for that; but still, some welcome for her personally would have been pleasant. She realized that the dark, scarred young man he called Cai was waiting expectantly for her word. He was gentle and deferential-she need not be afraid of him.\n\nShe sighed, reaching out again to touch the strong walls around her as if for reassurance and to steady her voice, so that when she spoke she would sound like a queen. \"In the greatest of carts, sir Cai, there is an Irish mead-hall table. It is my father's wedding gift to my lord Arthur. It is a prize of war, and very old and very valuable. See to it that it is assembled in Arthur's largest feasting hall. But before that, please see to it that a room is made ready for my lady Igraine, and someone to wait on her tonight.\" Distantly she was surprised-she thought to herself that she sounded quite like a queen. Nor did Cai sound at all reluctant to accept her as one. He bowed very low, and said, \"It shall be done at once, my lady and queen.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "All through the night, groups of travellers had been assembling before the castle; it was barely daylight when Gwenhwyfar looked out to seethe whole slope of the hill, leading up to the castle, covered with horses and tents and with crowds of men and women.\n\n\"It looks like a festival,\" she said to Igraine, who had shared her bed on this last night of her maidenhood, and the older woman smiled.\n\n\"When the High King takes a wife, child, that is as much a festival as anything happening in this island. Look, those men are the followers of Lot of Orkney.\" She thought, but did not say aloud, Perhaps Morgaine will be with them. As a young woman she had voiced every thought that crossed her mind, but no longer.\n\nHow strange it was, Igraine thought; all through the childbearing years, a woman is taught to think first and only of her sons. If she thinks of her daughters at all, it is only that when they are grown, they will go forth into the hands of another, they are being reared for another family. Was it only that Morgaine had been her firstborn, always closest to her heart? Arthur had returned physically after his long absence, but as all men do, he had grown so far from her that there was no longer anyway to reach across that distance. But to Morgaine-she had discovered this at Arthur's crowning-she was bound with a tie of the soul which would never break. Was it only that Morgaine had shared her own heritage of Avalon? Was this why every priestess longed to bear a daughter, who would follow in her footsteps and never be lost to her?\n\n\"There are so many people,\" Gwenhwyfar said. \"I did not know there were so many people in all of Britain.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And you to be High Queen over them all-it is frightening, I know,\" said Igraine. \"I felt so when I was married to Uther.\"\n\nAnd fora moment it seemed to her that Arthur had chosen ill in his queen. Gwenhwyfar had beauty, yes, and good temper, and learning, but a queen must be able to take her place at the forefront of the court. Perhaps Gwenhwyfar was all too shy and retiring.\n\nWhen you put it into the simplest terms, the queen was the king's lady; not only his hostess and keeper of his house-any chamberlain or housekeeper could do that-but, like the priestess of Avalon, a symbol of all the realities of life, a reminder that life was more than fighting and war and dominion. A king, when all was said and done, fought for the protection of those who were unable to fight for themselves, the childbearing women and little children and old people, aged men and grandmothers. Among the Tribes, indeed, the stronger women had fought at the side of the men-there had been, of old, a battle-college kept by women-but from the beginning of civilization it had been the work of men to hunt for food and to keep off invaders from the hearth-fire where their pregnant women and little children and old folk were sheltered; and the work of women to keep that hearth safe for them. As the King was joined to the High Priestess in the symbolic marriage to the land in token that he would bring strength to his kingdom, so the Queen, in a similar joining to the King, created a symbol of the central strength behind all the armies and the wars-the home and the center for which the men rallied their strength.... Igraine shook her head impatiently. All this of symbols and inner truths was fit, perhaps, fora priestess of Avalon, but she, Igraine, had been queen enough without any such thoughts, and there would be time enough for Gwenhwyfar to think of these things when she was an old woman and no longer needed them! In these civilized days, a queen was not a priestess over villagers tending their barley fields, anymore than a king was the great hunter who ranged among the deer!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Come, Gwenhwyfar, Cai left serving-women to wait on you, but as your husband's mother it is suitable that I should dress you for your wedding, since your own mother cannot be hereto make you ready on this day.\"\n\nThe younger woman looked like an angel when she was clothed; her fine hair floated like spun gold in the sunlight, almost dimming the radiance of the golden garland she had put on. Her dress was of a white woven stuff, as fine as spiderweb; Gwenhwyfar told Igraine, with shy pride, that the fabric had been brought from afar country, further even than Rome, and was more costly than gold. Her father had gotten a length for the altar stone of their church and a little piece to hold a holy relic, and he had given her apiece, too, of which she had made her wedding gown. There was more fora holiday tunic for Arthur-it washer own wedding gift to him.\n\nLancelet came to conduct them to the early mass which would precede the wedding; afterward all the day could be given to feasting and revelry. He was resplendent in the crimson cloak he had worn before, but he was dressed for riding.\n\n\"Do you go from us, Lancelet?\"\n\n\"No,\" he said soberly, but he was looking only at Gwenhwyfar. \"As one of the entertainments of this day, the new horsemen-and Arthur's cavalry-will display what they can do: I am one of the horsemen who will show you these games this afternoon. Arthur feels it is time to make his plans known to his people.\"\n\nAnd again Igraine saw that hopeless, transfixed look in his eyes when he looked on Gwenhwyfar, and the brilliance of the girl's smile as she looked up to him. She could not hear now what they were saying to each other-she had no doubt it was innocent enough. But they needed no words. Igraine felt again the despairing awareness that this would come to no good, but only to misery." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "They walked down through the corridors, joined as they went by serving-people, noblemen, all those clustering to the early mass. On the steps of the chapel they were joined by two young men who wore, like Lancelet himself, long black feathers in their caps; Cai, she recalled, had worn one too. Was it some badge of Arthur's Companions?\n\nLancelet asked, \"Where is Cai, brother? Should he not be hereto escort my lady to the church?\"\n\nOne of the newcomers, a big, sturdy man who, Gwenhwyfar thought, had nevertheless a look of Lancelet, said, \"Cai, and Gawaine too, are dressing Arthur for his wedding. Indeed, I had thought you would be among them, you three are like brothers to Arthur. He sent me to take their place, as the lady Igraine's kinsman-madam,\" he said to Igraine, bowing, \"can it be that you do not recognize me? I am the son of the Lady of the Lake. My name is Balan, and this is our foster-brother Balin.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar nodded courteously to them. She thought: Can this big, coarse Balan truly be Lancelot's brother? It is as if a bull should call himself brother to the finest of southern stallions! Balin, his foster-brother, was short and red-faced, with hair as yellow as a Saxon's, and bearded like a Saxon too. She said, \"Lancelet, if it is your will to be with my lord and king-\"\n\n\"I think you ought to go to him, Lancelet,\" said Balan with a laugh. \"Like all men about towed, Arthur is mad with nervousness. Our lord may fight like Pendragon himself on the field of battle, but this morning when he is being readied for his bride, he seems no more than the boy he is!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Poor Arthur, thought Gwenhwyfar, this marriage is more of an ordeal for him than for me-at least I have nothing to do but obey the will of my father and king! A ripple of amusement went over her, quickly stifled; poor Arthur, he would have had to take her for the good of his kingdom, even if she really had been old or ugly or pockmarked. It was just another of his painful duties, like leading his men into battle against the Saxons. At least he knew what he could expect of the Saxons! She said gently, \"My lord Lancelet, would you rather beat my lord Arthur's side?\"\n\nHis eyes told her clearly that he did not want to leave her; she had become, in only a day or two, adept at reading those messages unspoken. She had never exchanged with Lancelet one word that could not have been shouted aloud in the presence of Igraine and her father and all the bishops of Britain assembled. But for the first time he seemed torn by conflicting desires.\n\n\"The last thing I wish is to leave your side, madam, but Arthur is my friend and my cousin-\"\n\n\"God forbid that I should ever come between you kinsman,\" she said, and held out her small hand to him to kiss. \"By this marriage you are my loyal kinsman too, and my cousin. Go to my lord the king and tell him-\" She hesitated, startled at her own boldness; would it be seemly to say this? God help them all, within the hour she would be Arthur's wife, what did it matter if it sounded overbold, when what she spoke were words of proper concern for her own lord? \"Tell him I gladly return to him his most loyal captain, and that I await him with love and obedience, sir.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet smiled. It seemed that smile stretched a string somewhere deep inside her, that she felt her own mouth moving with it. How could she feel so much apart of him? Her whole life seemed to have filtered down into the touch of his lips on her fingers. She swallowed, and suddenly she knew what it was she felt. In spite of her dutiful messages of love and obedience to Arthur, it seemed that she would sell her soul if time would only turn back and she could tell her father that she would marry no man but Lancelet. That was something as real as the sun around her and the grass under her feet, as real-she swallowed again-as real as Arthur, now being readied for the wedding, for which she must go to Holy Mass to prepare herself. Is it one of God's cruel jokes that I did not know this was what I felt until it was too late? Or is this some wicked trick of the fend, to seduce me from my duty to my father and to my husband? She did not hear what Lancelet said; she was only conscious that his hand had released hers and that he had turned his back and was walking away. She hardly heard the polite words of those two foster-brothers, Balin and Balan-which of them was the son of the priestess of the Lake, then? Balan; Lancelet's brother, but no more like him than a raven is like a great eagle.\n\nShe became aware that Igraine was speaking to her. \"I leave you to the Companions, my dear. I wish to speak with the Merlin before the mass.\"\n\nBelatedly, it occurred to Gwenhwyfar that Igraine was awaiting her permission to go. Already her rank as High Queen was a reality. She hardly heard her own words to Igraine as the older woman withdrew." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Igraine crossed the courtyard, murmuring excuses to the people she jostled, trying to reach Taliesin through the crowd. Everyone was clad in bright festival clothing, but he wore his usual somber grey robes. \"Father-\"\n\n\"Igraine, child.\" Taliesin looked down at her, and Igraine found it obscurely comforting that the old Druid spoke to her as he would have spoken to her when she was fourteen. \"I had thought you would be in attendance upon our bride. How beautiful she is! Arthur has found himself a treasure. I have heard that she is clever, too, and learned, and also that she is pious, which will please the bishop.\"\n\n\"Father,\" Igraine appealed, lowering her voice so that no one in the crowd would hear, \"I must ask you this-is there any honorable way for Arthur to avoid this marriage?\"\n\nTaliesin blinked in consternation. \"No, I do not think so. Not when all is readied to join them together after the mass. God help us, have we all been deceived, is she barren, or unchaste, or-\" The Merlin shook his head in dismay. \"Unless she were secretly a leper, or actually with child by another man, there could be noway at all to stop it; and even then, noway without scandal or offense, or making an enemy of Leodegranz. Why do you ask, Igraine?\"\n\n\"I believe her virtuous. But I have seen the way she looks at Lancelet and heather. Can anything come of it but misery, when the bride is besotted with another, and that other the groom's dearest friend?\"\n\nThe Merlin looked at her sharply; his old eyes were as seeing as ever. \"Oh, it is like that, is it? I have always thought our Lancelet had too much good looks and charm for his own welfare. Yet he is an honorable lad, after all; it maybe nothing but youthful fancies, and when the bridal pair are wedded and bedded, they will forget it, or think of it only with a little sadness, as something that might have been.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"In nine cases out often, I would say you were right,\" Igraine said, \"but you have not seen them, and I have.\"\n\nThe Merlin sighed again. \"Igraine, Igraine, I do not say you are wrong, but when all's done, what can we do about it? Leodegranz would find it such an insult that he would go to war against Arthur, and Arthur has already enough to challenge his kingship-or have you not heard of yonder northern king who sent word to Arthur that he had skinned the beards of eleven kings to make himself a cloak, and Arthur should send him tribute or he would come and take Arthur's beard too?\"\n\n\"What did Arthur do?\"\n\nThe Merlin said, \"Why, he sent the older king word that as for his beard, it was scarce grown yet, and it would do him no good for his cloak; but that if he wanted it, he could come and try to take it, if he could find his way through the bodies of dead Saxons. And he sent him the head of one of the Saxons-he had just comeback from a raiding party-and said its beard was better for lining a cloak than the beard of a friend at whose side he would rather be fighting. And finally he said he would send a fellow king a present, but he exacted no tribute from his friends, and paid none. So that all came to nothing; but as you can see, Arthur cannot afford more enemies, and Leodegranz would be a bad one. He'd better marry the girl, and I think I would say the same even if he'd found her in bed with Lancelet-which he hasn't and isn't likely to.\"\n\nIgraine discovered that she was twisting her hands together. \"What shall we do?\"\n\nThe Merlin touched her cheek, very lightly. \"We will do what we have always done, Igraine-what we must, what the Gods order. We will do the best we can. We are none of us embarked on this course for our own happiness, my child. You, who were reared in Avalon, you know that. Whatever we may do to try and shape our destiny, the end is with the Gods-or, as the bishop would no doubt prefer me to say, with God. The older I grow, the more I become certain that it makes no difference what words we use to tell the same truths.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"The Lady would not be pleased to hear you speak such words,\" said a dark, thin-faced man behind him, in dark robes which could have been those of a priest or a Druid." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Taliesin turned half round and smiled.\n\n\"Nevertheless, Viviane knows they are true, as I do.... Igraine, I do not think you know our newest of chief bards-I have brought him hitherto sing and play for Arthur's wedding. Kevin, madam.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Kevin bowed low. Igraine noticed that he walked leaning on a carven stick; his harp in its case was carried by a boy of twelve or thirteen. Many bards or harpers who were not Druids were blind or lamed-it was rare that any ablebodied lad would be given time and leisure to learn such arts, in these days of war-but usually the Druids chose among those who were sound of body as well as being keen of mind. It was rare fora man with any deformity to be allowed into the Druid teachings-it was felt that the Gods marked inner faults in this way. But it would have been inexcusably rude to speak of this; she could only imagine that his gifts were so great that he had been accepted in despite of all else.\n\nHe had diverted her mind from her purpose, but when she thought back, Taliesin was right. There was noway to stop this wedding without scandal and probably war. Inside the wattle-and-daub building that was the church, lights blazed and the bell had begun to ring. Igraine walked into the church. Taliesin knelt stiffly down; so did the boy carrying Kevin's harp, but Kevin himself did not kneel-fora moment Igraine wondered if, not being a Christian, he was defying the services, as Uther had once seemed to do. Then she decided, seeing the awkwardness of his gait, that he probably had a stiff leg and could not bend the knee at all. She saw the bishop look his way, frowning.\n\n\"Listen to the words of Jesus Christ our Lord,\" the bishop began. \"Behold, where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I among ye, and whatsoever thing ye ask in my name, so it shall be done....\"\n\nIgraine knelt, drawing her veil around her face, but she was conscious, nevertheless, of Arthur, who had come into the church with Cai and Lancelet and Gawaine, wearing a fine white tunic and a blue cloak, with no ornament but the slender golden coronet of his crowning, and the crimson and jewels in the scabbard of his great sword. It seemed as if, without eyes, she could see Gwenhwyfar, in her fragile white gown, like Arthur all white and gold, kneeling between Balin and Balan. Lot, greying and thin, knelt between Morgause and one of his younger sons; and behind him-it was as if a harp had sounded some high, forbidden note through the chanting of the priest. She raised her head, cautiously, and tried to see, knowing who knelt there. The face and form of Morgaine were hidden behind Morgause." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Yet it seemed that she could sense her there, like a wrong note in the harmony of the sacred service." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "After all these years, was she reading thoughts again? In any case, what was a priestess of Avalon doing in the church? When Viviane had visited her and Uther in the years of their marriage, the priestess had either absented herself from divine service, or attended, listening and watching with the polite, grave attention she would have given to a child playing at a feast for her dolls. Yet now she could see Morgaine-she had changed, she was thinner, more beautiful, simply clad in a dress of fine dark wool, with a proper white coif around her head. She was not doing anything; she knelt with her head bent and her eyes lowered, the picture of respectful attention. Yet even the priest, it seemed, could sense the disruption and impatience emanating from her; he stopped twice and looked at her, although there was noway he could have accused her of doing anything that was not completely seemly and proper, and so after a moment he went on with the service.\n\nBut Igraine's attention, too, had been distracted. She tried to keep her mind on the service, she murmured the proper responses, but she could not think about the priest's words, nor of her son who was being married, nor of Gwenhwyfar who was, she could sense without seeing, looking around under the cover of her veil for Lancelet at Arthur's side. Now she could think only of her daughter. When the service was over, and the wedding, she would see her, and know where she had gone and what had befallen her.\n\nThen, raising her eyes just a moment, as the priest's man was reading aloud the story of the wedding in Cana, she looked round at Arthur; and she saw that his eyes, too, were fixed on Morgaine.\n\nSeated among Morgause's ladies, Morgaine listened quietly to the services, her head bent and her face wearing a polite mask of respect. Inwardly she was all impatience. Such nonsense-as if a house built by the hands of man could be converted by the words of some priest into an abiding place for the Spirit which was not of man's making at all. Her mind ran unruly. She was weary of Morgause's court; now she was back in the mainstream of events, and it was as if she had been cast from a backwater of stagnant pond-water into the channel of a racing river. She felt alive again. Even at Avalon, quiet and secluded as it was, she had had the sense of being in touch with the flow of life; but among the women of Morgause she felt she was idle, stagnant, useless. Now she was moving once more, whereas since the birth of her son she had been standing still. She thought fora moment of her little son, Gwydion. He hardly knew her now; when she would have picked him up and petted him, he fought and struggled to go to his foster-mother. Even now, the memory of his small arms winding about her neck made her feel weak and regretful, but she forced the memory away. He did not even know he washer son, he would grow up to think himself one of Morgause's brood. Morgaine was content to have it so, but she could not stifle her reluctant sorrow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Well, she supposed that all women felt such regret when they must leave their child; but all women must endure it, except for homekeeping women who were content to do for their babes what any foster-mother or servant girl could do, and have no greater work measured to their hands. Even a cowherd must leave her babes to tend her flocks; how much more so a queen or a priestess? Even Viviane had given up her children. As had Igraine.\n\nArthur looked manly and handsome; he had grown, his shoulders broadened-he was no longer the slender boy who had come to her with the deer's blood on his face. There had been power, not these tame mouthings of the doings of their God who had meddled about, turning water into wine, which would be blasphemy anyway to the gifts of the Goddess. Or did the tale mean that to the joining of man and woman in wedlock, the ferment of the Spirit would transform their coupling into a sacred thing, as in the Great Marriage? For Arthur's sake she hoped it would be so with this woman, whoever she was; she could see, from where she knelt behind Morgause, only a cloud of pale golden hair, crowned with the paler gold of a bridal coronet, and a white robe of some fine and precious fabric. Arthur raised his eyes to look on his bride, and his gaze fell on Morgaine. She saw his face change, and thought, with astir of awareness, So, he recognized me. I cannot have changed so much as he has changed; he has grown from boy to man, and I-I was already a woman, and it has not changed meas much as that.\n\nShe hoped that Arthur's bride would love him, and that he would love her well. In her mind rang Arthur's desolate words, For all my life I will always remember you and love you and bless you. But it must not be so. He must forget, he must come to seethe Goddess only in his chosen wife. There stood Lancelet beside him. How could the years have changed and sobered Arthur so much, and left Lancelet untouched, unchanged? No, he had changed too: he looked sad, there was along scar on his face which ran up into his hair and left a small white streak in it. Cai was thinner and more stooped, his limp more pronounced; he looked on Arthur as a devoted hound looks at his master. Half hoping, half fearing, Morgaine looked about to see if Viviane had come to see Arthur wedded as she had seen him crowned. But the Lady of the Lake was not here. There was the Merlin, his grey head bent in what almost looked like prayer, and behind him, standing-a tall shadow with too much of sense to bend the knee to this stupid mummery-was Kevin the Bard; good for him!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The mass concluded; the bishop, a tall, ascetic-looking man with a sour face, was pronouncing the words of dismissal. Even Morgaine bent her head-Viviane had taught her to show at least outward respect to the manifestations of another's faith, since, as she said, all faith was of the Gods. The only head unbent in the church was that of Kevin, standing proudly erect. Morgaine wished she had the courage to getup and stand beside him, head unbowed. Why was Arthur so reverential? Had he not sworn a solemn oath to regard Avalon as well as the priests? Must a day come when she, or Kevin, must remind Arthur of the vow? Surely that white, pious church angel he was marrying would do nothing to help. They should have married Arthur to a woman of Avalon; it would not be the first time a sworn priestess had been joined to a king. The idea shook her, and she stifled her unease with a quick picture of Raven as High Queen. At least she would have the Christian virtue of silence... Morgaine bent her head and bit her lip, suddenly afraid she would giggle aloud.\n\nThe mass came to an end; the people began to stream toward the doorway. Arthur and his Companions stayed where they were, and, at a gesture from Cai, Lot and Morgause approached him, Morgaine moving along behind them. She saw that Igraine and the Merlin and the silent harper remained as well. She raised her eyes and met her mother's glance; she knew, with something as poignant as the Sight, that except for the presence of the bishop she would even now be clasped in Igraine's arms. She flushed a little, turning away from Igraine's eager eyes.\n\nShe had thought as little as she could of Igraine, conscious only that in her presence she must guard the one thing Igraine must never know, who had fathered her child.... Once, in that long desperate struggle which she could hardly remember, she thought she had cried aloud, like a child, for her mother, but she had never been sure. Even now, she feared any contact with the mother who had once had the Sight, who knew the ways of Avalon; Morgaine might manage to put aside all her childhood training and guilt, but would Igraine chide her for what had not, after all, been her own choice?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lot now came to bend the knee before Arthur, and Arthur, his young face serious and kindly, raised Lot and kissed him on both cheeks. \"I am glad you could come to my wedding, Uncle. I am glad I have so faithful a friend and kinsman to guard my northern shores, and your son Gawaine is my dear friend and closest Companion. And you, Aunt. I owe you a debt of thanks forgiving me your son for so loyal a Companion.\"\n\nMorgause smiled. She was, Morgaine thought, still beautiful-far more so than Igraine. \"Well, sire, you will have cause to thank me again soon enough, for I have younger sons who talk of nothing but the time when they may come to serve the High King.\"\n\n\"They will be as welcome as their elder brother,\" Arthur said courteously, and looked past Morgause to where Morgaine knelt.\n\n\"Welcome, sister. At my crowning I made you a promise, which now I shall redeem. Come.\" He stretched out his hand to her. Morgaine rose, feeling the clasp of his hand and the tension in it. He did not meet her eyes, but led her past the others to where the white-clad woman knelt in the cloud of her golden hair.\n\n\"My lady,\" he said softly, and fora moment Morgaine was not sure to which of them he was speaking; he looked from one to the other, and as Gwenhwyfar rose and looked up, her eyes met Morgaine's in a moment of shocked recognition.\n\n\"Gwenhwyfar, this is my sister Morgaine, Duchess of Cornwall. It is my wish that she should be first among your ladies-in-waiting, as she is highest in rank here among them.\"\n\nMorgaine saw Gwenhwyfar moisten her lips with her small pink tongue, like a kitten's. \" My lord and king, the lady Morgaine and I have met." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"What?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Where?\" Arthur demanded, smiling.\n\nMorgaine said, just as stiffly, \"It was while she was at school in a nunnery on Glastonbury, my lord. She lost her way in the mists and blundered onto the shores of Avalon.\" As on that faraway day, it seemed suddenly as if something grey and dismal, like ash, had covered and choked the fine day. Morgaine felt, in spite of her fine decent gown and beautifully woven veil, as if she were some gross, dwarfish, earthly creature before the ethereal whiteness and precious gold of Gwenhwyfar. It lasted only a moment, then Gwenhwyfar stepped forward and embraced her, kissing heron the cheek as was seemly fora kinswoman. Morgaine, returning the embrace, felt that Gwenhwyfar was fragile as precious glass, unlike her own gnarled-wood solidness; felt herself shrinking back, shy and stiff, so that she might not feel Gwenhwyfar shrink from her. Her lips felt coarse against the rose-leaf softness of the other girl's cheek.\n\nGwenhwyfar said softly, \"I shall welcome the sister of my lord and husband, my lady of Cornwall-may I call you Morgaine, sister?\"\n\nMorgaine drew along breath and muttered, \"As it pleases you, my lady.\" When she had said it, she knew that she sounded ungracious, but she did not know what she should have said instead. Standing next to Arthur, she looked up to see Gawaine regarding her with a faint frown. Lot was a Christian only because it was expedient, but Gawaine was genuinely devout in his blunt way. His disapproving glance stiffened Morgaine's back; she had as good aright to be here as Gawaine himself. It would be amusing to see some of these stiff-necked Companions of Arthur lose their proper manners around a Beltane fire! Well, Arthur had sworn to honor the people of Avalon as well as the Christians that might yet come about here at Arthur's court. Perhaps that was why she herself was here." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar said, \"I hope we shall befriends, lady. I remember that you and the lord Lancelet set me on my way when I was lost in those dreadful mists-even now I shudder at the memory of that terrible place,\" she said, and raised her eyes to Lancelet, where he stood behind Arthur. Morgaine, attuned to the mood around them, followed her eyes and wondered why Gwenhwyfar spoke to him now; then realized that the other woman could not help it, she was bound as if on a string by Lancelet's eyes... and Lancelet was looking at Gwenhwyfar as a hungry dog looks at a dripping bone. If Morgaine had to meet this pink-and-white precious creature again in Lancelet's presence, it was well for them both that it was just as Gwenhwyfar was about to be married to someone else. She sensed Arthur's hand still in hers, and that troubled her too; that bond, too, would be broken, when he had taken Gwenhwyfar to bed. Gwenhwyfar would become the Goddess to Arthur and he would not look at Morgaine anymore in that way that troubled her so. She was Arthur's sister, not his lover; she was the mother not of his son, but the son of the Horned One, and so it must be.\n\nBut I have not broken that bond, either. True, I was ill after my son was born, and I had no will to fall like a ripe apple into Lot's bed, so I played Lady Chastity herself wherever Lot could see me. But she looked at Lancelet, hoping to intercept the glance between his eyes and Gwenhwyfar's.\n\nHe smiled, but he looked past her. Gwenhwyfar took Morgaine's hand in one of hers, reached to Igraine with the other. \"Soon you will be as my own sister and my own mother,\" she said, \"for I have neither mother nor sister living. Come and stand beside meas we are joined in marriage, mother and sister.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Stiffen her heart as she might against Gwenhwyfar's charm, Morgaine was warmed by those spontaneous words, and she returned the pressure of the girl's warm little fingers." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Igraine reached past Gwenhwyfar to touch Morgaine's hand, and Morgaine said, \"I have not had time to greet you properly, my mother,\" and let goof Gwenhwyfar's hand fora moment to kiss Igraine. She thought, as fora moment the three of them stood in a brief embrace, All women, indeed, are sisters under the Goddess.\n\n\"Well, come then,\" said the Merlin pleasantly. \"Let us have the marriage signed and witnessed, and then for feasting and revelry.\"\n\nMorgaine thought the bishop looked sober, but he too said amiably enough, \"Now that our spirits are all lifted up and in charity, indeed, let us make merry as is suitable for Christian folk on such a day of good omen.\"\n\nStanding beside Gwenhwyfar at the ceremony, Morgaine sensed that the girl was trembling. Her mind went back to the day of the deer hunting. At least she herself had been stimulated and exalted by ritual, but even so she had been frightened, she had clung to the old priestess. Suddenly, with an impulse of kindness, she wished she could give to Gwenhwyfar, who after all had been convent-reared and had none of the old wisdom, some of the instruction given to the younger priestesses. Then she would know how to let the life currents of sun and summer and earth and life flood through her. She could truly become the Goddess to Arthur and he the God to her, so that their marriage would not bean empty form, but a true inner binding on all the levels of life.... She almost found herself searching for the words, then remembered that Gwenhwyfar was a Christian, and would not thank Morgaine for such teaching. She sighed, frustrated, knowing she would not speak.\n\nShe raised her eyes and met Lancelet's, and fora moment he held her glance; she found herself remembering that sun-flooded moment on the Tor, when they should have been bound as man and woman, Goddess to God... she knew he was remembering too. But he dropped his eyes and looked away, signing himself, as the priest had done, with the cross." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The simple ceremony was over. Morgaine affixed her name as witness to the marriage contract, noting how smooth and flowing her own hand was next to Arthur's sprawling signature, Gwenhwyfar's clumsy and childish letters-had the nuns of Glastonbury so little learning? Lancelet signed, too, and Gawaine, and King Bors of Brittany, who had come as witness, and Lot, and Ectorius, and King Pellinore, whose sister had been Gwenhwyfar's mother. Pellinore had a young daughter with him, whom he solemnly beckoned forward.\n\n\"My daughter, Elaine-your cousin, my lady and queen. I beg you to accept her service.\"\n\n\"I shall be happy for her company among my ladies,\" Gwenhwyfar said, smiling. Morgaine thought that Pellinore's daughter was very like Gwenhwyfar, pink and golden, though a little dimmer than Gwenhwyfar's bright radiance, and wearing simple linen dyed with saffron, which dulled the coppery gold of her hair. \"What is your name, cousin? How old are you?\"\n\n\"Elaine, my lady, and I am thirteen years old.\" She dropped a deep curtsey, so deep that she stumbled and Lancelet caught her to steady her. She blushed deeply and hid her face behind her veil. Lancelet smiled indulgently, and Morgaine felt a sickening pang of jealousy. He would not look at her, he would look only at these pale gold-white angels; no doubt he too thought her little and ugly. And at that moment all her kindness for Gwenhwyfar faded into anger, and she had to turn her face away.\n\nGwenhwyfar had to spend the next hours welcoming, it seemed, every king in the whole of Britain, and being presented to their wives, sisters, and daughters. When it came time to sit at the feast, in addition to Morgaine and Elaine and Igraine and Morgause, she had to show courtesy and graciousness to Flavilla, Arthur's foster-mother and mother of Sir Cai; to the queen of North Wales, who had her own name, Gwenhwyfar, but was dark and Roman-looking; and to half a dozen others. She whispered to Morgaine, \"I do not know how I am ever to remember all their names! Shall I simply call them all'my lady'and hope they don't know why?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine whispered back, momentarily sharing the sense of fun in her voice, \"That is one thing about being a High Queen, madam, no one will dare to ask you why! Whatever you do, they will think it well done! Or if they do not, they will not dare to tell you so!\"\n\nGwenhwyfar giggled a little. \"But you must call me by my name, Morgaine-not just madam. When you say madam, I look about for some stout old ladylike Dame Flavilla, or King Pellinore's queen!\"\n\nAt last the feast began. Morgaine had more appetite now than she had had at Arthur's crowning. She sat between Gwenhwyfar and Igraine, and ate with a good appetite; the abstemious ways of Avalon seemed far behind her. She even ate some meat, though she did not like it, and, since there was no water on the table and beer mostly for the servants, drank the wine she really disliked. It made her head swim a little, though it was not as fiery as the strong barley liquors common at the court of Orkney, which she hated and never touched.\n\nAfter a time Kevin came forward to play, and the conversation died. Morgaine, who had not heard a fine harper since leaving Avalon, listened, letting the past slip away. Suddenly she longed for Viviane. Even when she raised her eyes and saw Lancelet-who, as Arthur's closest Companion, sat nearer to him than any other, even Gawaine his heir, and shared his dish-she thought of him only as the companion of those years at the Lake.\n\nViviane, not Igraine, is my real mother, and it was for her I cried out.... She bent her head, blinking back tears she did not know how to shed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The music died away, and she heard Kevin's rich voice. \"We have another musician here,\" he said. \"Will the lady Morgaine sing for this company?\"\n\nHow, she wondered, did he know I was pining for the touch of my harp? \"It will be a pleasure to play your harp, sir. But I have not touched a fine one for many years, only a makeshift at Lot's court.\"\n\nArthur said, and sounded ill-pleased, \"What, my sister, sing like a hired musician for all these people?\"\n\nKevin looked offended, as well he might, thought Morgaine. Ina sudden rage, she rose from her seat, saying, \"What the Master Harper of Avalon condescends to do, I am honored to do! In music, the Gods only are served!\" She took the harp from his hand, seating herself on a bench. It was larger than her own harp and fora moment her hands fumbled on the strings; then she found the set and her hands moved more surely, playing a northern song she had heard at Lot's court. She was suddenly grateful for the wine that had cleared her throat; she heard her own voice rich and sweet-it had comeback as strong as ever, though she had not recognized it till this moment. Her voice was contralto, deep and strong, trained by the bards at Avalon, and she was proud, again. Gwenhwyfar maybe beautiful, but I have the voice of a bard.\n\nAnd even Gwenhwyfar crowded close when she was done, to say, \"Your voice is very lovely, sister. Did you learn to sing so well in Avalon?\"\n\n\"Why yes, madam, music is sacred-did you not learn the harp in your nunnery?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar shrank. \"No, it is unseemly fora woman to raise her voice before the Lord....\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Scribe for the author and continue the tale.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 5" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The music died away, and she heard Kevin's rich voice. \"We have another musician here,\" he said. \"Will the lady Morgaine sing for this company?\"\n\nHow, she wondered, did he know I was pining for the touch of my harp? \"It will be a pleasure to play your harp, sir. But I have not touched a fine one for many years, only a makeshift at Lot's court.\"\n\nArthur said, and sounded ill-pleased, \"What, my sister, sing like a hired musician for all these people?\"\n\nKevin looked offended, as well he might, thought Morgaine. Ina sudden rage, she rose from her seat, saying, \"What the Master Harper of Avalon condescends to do, I am honored to do! In music, the Gods only are served!\" She took the harp from his hand, seating herself on a bench. It was larger than her own harp and fora moment her hands fumbled on the strings; then she found the set and her hands moved more surely, playing a northern song she had heard at Lot's court. She was suddenly grateful for the wine that had cleared her throat; she heard her own voice rich and sweet-it had comeback as strong as ever, though she had not recognized it till this moment. Her voice was contralto, deep and strong, trained by the bards at Avalon, and she was proud, again. Gwenhwyfar maybe beautiful, but I have the voice of a bard.\n\nAnd even Gwenhwyfar crowded close when she was done, to say, \"Your voice is very lovely, sister. Did you learn to sing so well in Avalon?\"\n\n\"Why yes, madam, music is sacred-did you not learn the harp in your nunnery?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar shrank. \"No, it is unseemly fora woman to raise her voice before the Lord....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine chuckled. \"You Christians are overfond of that word unseemly, especially when it relates to women,\" she said. \"If music is evil, then it is evil for men as well; and if it is a good thing, should not women do all the good things they can do, to makeup for their supposed sin at the beginning of the world?\"\n\n\"Still, I would not have been allowed-once I was beaten for touching a harp,\" said Gwenhwyfar wistfully. \"But you have cast a spell over us, and I cannot think but this magic is good.\"\n\nKevin said, \"All the men and women of Avalon learn something of music; but few have such gifts as the lady Morgaine. A fine voice is born, not trained. And if it is a gift of God, then seems it tome that it is arrogant to look down and think little of such a gift, be it given to manor woman. We cannot believe God has made a mistake in giving such a gift to a woman, since God makes no mistakes, so we must accept it wherever it is found.\"\n\n\"I cannot argue theology with a Druid,\" said Ectorius, \"but if I had a daughter born with such a gift, I would hold it a temptation, that she would be tempted to step beyond the place appointed to a woman. We are not told that Mary, the Mother of our Lord, sang or danced-\"\n\nThe Merlin said softly, \"Though we are told that when the Holy Ghost descended upon her, she lifted up her voice and sang, My soul hath magnified the Lord...\" But he said it in Greek: Megalynei he psyche1 mouton Kyrion....\n\nOnly Ectorius and Lancelet and the bishop recognized the Greek words, although Morgaine too had heard them more than once. The bishop said firmly, \"But she sang in the presence of God alone. Only Mary the Magdalene is said to have sung or danced before men, and only before our Redeemer saved her soul for God, for it was part of her wicked ways.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Igraine said with a flicker of mischief, \"King David was a singer and played, we are told, upon the harp. Do you suppose he beat any of his wives or daughters for playing on the harp?\"\n\nMorgaine flashed, \"If Mary of Magdala-I mind the story-played on the harp and danced, still she came to be saved, and we are nowhere told that Jesus told her to sit meekly and be silent! If she poured precious balm on the head of Jesus and he would not let his Companions rebuke her, he may well have enjoyed her other gifts as well! The Gods give of their best, not their worst, to men!\"\n\nPatricius said stiffly, \"If this is the form of religion which is known herein Britain, we are well in need of such councils as our church has called together!\" He scowled, and Morgaine, already regretting her hasty words, lowered her head-it was hardly suitable to pick a quarrel between Avalon and the church at Arthur's wedding. But why did Arthur not speak out? All at once everyone began to talk all together, and Kevin, taking the harp again, began to play a lively air, undercover of which the servants went around with fresh delicacies which nobody wanted by now.\n\nAfter a time Kevin put by the harp, and Morgaine, as she would have done in Avalon, poured him wine and knelt to offer it to him. He smiled and took it, gesturing to her to rise and sit by him.\n\n\"Lady Morgaine, my thanks.\"\n\n\"It is my duty and my pleasure to serve such a bard, Master Harper. Are you recently come from Avalon? Is my kinswoman Viviane well?\"\n\n\"Well, but much aged,\" he said quietly. \"And, I think, pining for you-you should return.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine felt again the surge of unforgotten despair; she looked away from him. \"I cannot. But give me news of my home.\"\n\n\"If you wish more news of Avalon you will have to go there. I have not returned myself fora year, since I am required to give news of all the kingdom to the Lady-Taliesin is too old now fora Messenger of the Gods.\"\n\n\"Well,\" Morgaine said, \"you will have something to tell her of this marriage.\"\n\n\"I will tell her that you are alive and well,\" said Kevin, \"since she has mourned you. She has not now the Sight to see for herself. And I shall tell her of her younger son who is Arthur's chiefest Companion; indeed,\" he said, his lips curving in a sarcastic smile, \"watching him with Arthur, I think him like that youngest disciple who leaned at dinner upon the bosom of Christ....\"\n\nMorgaine could not keep back a small chuckle. \"Yonder bishop would have you whipped for blasphemy, no doubt, if he heard you say so.\"\n\n\"Well, there sits Arthur like to Jesus with his Apostles, defending Christianity to all the land,\" Kevin said. \"As for yonder bishop, he is an ignorant man.\"\n\n\"What, because he has no ear for music?\" Morgaine had not realized how she had starved for the banter of casual equals like this; Morgause and the gossip of her ladies were so small, so bound by little things!\n\n\"I would say that any man without an ear for music is an ignorant ass indeed, since without it he does not speak but brays,\" Kevin retorted, \"but it is more than that. Is this anytime fora wedding?\"\n\nMorgaine had been so long away from Avalon that fora moment she did not know what he meant; but he pointed to the sky." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The moon is waning from the full. This augurs ill fora wedding, and the lord Taliesin told them so. But the bishop would have it a little after the full so that all these people would have light to travel to their homes, and because it is the feast of one of their saints-I know not which! The Merlin spoke to Arthur as well, to tell him this marriage would bring him no joy-I know not why. But there was no honorable way to stop it, it seemed, all had gone too far.\"\n\nMorgaine knew instinctively what the old Druid had meant; she too had seen the way in which Gwenhwyfar looked upon Lancelet. Was it a flash of the Sight which had caused her to shrink from Gwenhwyfar, that day upon Avalon?\n\nShe took Lancelet from me forever on that day, Morgaine thought, then, remembering that she had been under avow to keep her maidenhood for the Goddess, looked within, in dull astonishment. Would she have been forsworn for his sake? She lowered her head in shame, almost fearing, fora moment, that Kevin could read her thoughts.\n\nViviane had said to her that a priestess must temper everything with her own judgment. It had been aright instinct, vows or no vows, which had led her to desire Lancelet... would have done better, even by Avalon, to take Lancelet then; then would Arthur's queen have come to him with her heart untouched, for Lancelet would have formed that mystical bond with me, and the child I bore would have been born of the ancient royal line of Avalon....\n\nBut they had had other plans for her, and in the wreck of that she had left Avalon forever, borne a child who had destroyed any hope that she could ever give the Goddess a daughter to her shrine: after Gwydion, she could carry no other to life. If she had trusted her own instinct and judgment, Viviane would have been angry, but they would have found someone suitable for Arthur, somehow...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "By doing right I did wrong; by obeying Viviane's word I helped with the wreck and disaster of this marriage, for wreck I now know it will be....\n\n\"Lady Morgaine,\" Kevin said gently, \"you are troubled. Can I do anything to help you?\"\n\nMorgaine shook her head, biting back tears again. She wondered if he knew she had been given to Arthur in the kingmaking. She could not accept his pity. \"Nothing, lord Druid. Perhaps I share your fears for this marriage made in a waning moon. I am concerned for my brother, no more. And I do pity the woman he has wedded.\" And as she spoke the words she knew they were true; for all her fear of Gwenhwyfar, not unmixed with hatred, she knew that she did pity her-marrying a man who did not love her, loving a man she could not wed.\n\nIf I take Lancelet from Gwenhwyfar, then I do my brother a service, and his wife as well, for if I take him away she will forget him. She had been trained to examine her own motives in Avalon, and now she cringed inwardly; she was not being honest with herself. If she took Lancelet from Gwenhwyfar, it would not be for her brother's sake nor for the sake of the kingdom, but purely and solely because she desired Lancelet herself.\n\nNot for yourself. For the sake of another you could use your magic; but you must not deceive yourself. She knew love charms enough. It would be for Arthur's good! It would work to the advantage of the kingdom, she told herself repeatedly, if she took Lancelet from her brother's wife; but the unsparing conscience of a priestess kept saying: This you may not. It is forbidden to use your magic to make the universe do your will." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So, still, she would try; but she must do it unassisted, with no more than her own woman's wiles. She told herself fiercely that Lancelet had desired her once, without the aid of magic; she could certainly make him desire her again!\n\nGWENHWYFAR WAS WEARY of the feasting. She had eaten more than she wanted, and although she had sipped only one glass of wine, she felt overly hot, and slid her veil back, fanning herself. Arthur had come to speak to many of his guests, moving slowly toward the table where she sat with the ladies, and finally reaching her; with him, Lancelet and Gawaine. The women slid along the benches, making room, and Arthur sat beside her.\n\n\"It is the first moment I have really had to speak to you, my wife.\" She held out her small hand to him. \"I understand. This is more like a council than a wedding feast, my husband and my lord.\"\n\nHe laughed, somewhat ruefully. \"All events in my life now seem to become so. A king does nothing in private. Well,\" he amended, smiling, seeing the flush that spread over her face, \"almost nothing-I think there will be a few exceptions, my wife. The law requires that they must see us put to bed together, but what happens after that need concern no one but ourselves, I trust.\"\n\nShe lowered her eyes, knowing that he had seen her blush. Once again, with the flood of shame, she realized that she had forgotten him again, that she had been watching Lancelet and thinking, with the drowsy sweetness of a dream, how very much she wished it had been to him she had been joined in marriage this day-what damnable fate had made her a High Queen? His eyes fell on her with that hungry look, and she dared not lookup at him. She saw him turn his eyes from her even before the shadow fell over them and the lady Morgaine stood there; Arthur made room for her at his side." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Come and sit with us, my sister, there is always room for you here,\" he said, his voice so languorous that Gwenhwyfar wondered fora moment how much he had drunk." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"When the feast has worn away a little, see, we have prepared something more for entertainment, perhaps something more stirring than the bard's music, beautiful though it is. I did not know you were a singer, my sister. I knew you were an enchantress, but not that you were a musician as well. Have you enchanted us all?\"\n\n\"I hope not,\" Morgaine said, laughing, \"else I would never dare sing again-what is that old saga, about the bard who sang the evil giants into a circle of ring stones, and there they stand, cold and stone to this day?\"\n\n\"That one I have never heard,\" said Gwenhwyfar, \"though in my convent there was a tale that these were evil folk who mocked the Christ on his way to his cross, and a saint raised his hand and turned them into crows who flyover the world crying out wailing jests forever... and another tale of a saint who transformed a circle of sorceresses, at their evil rites, into a circle of stones.\"\n\nLancelet said lazily, \"If I had leisure to study philosophy instead of being warrior or councillor or horseman, I think I would try to find who built the ring stones and why.\"\n\nMorgaine laughed. \"That is known in Avalon. Viviane could tell you if she would.\"\n\n\"But,\" said Lancelet, \"what the priestesses and the Druids say maybe no more truth than your pious nun's fables, Gwenhwyfar-forgive me, I should say, my lady and queen; Arthur, forgive me, I meant no disrespect to your lady, but I called her by her name when she was younger and not yet a queen-\" but Morgaine knew that he was simply seeking an excuse to speak her name aloud." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Arthur yawned." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"My dear friend, I do not mind if my lady does not. God forbid I should be the kind of husband who wishes to keep his wife locked away in a cage from all other human beings. A husband who cannot keep his wife's kind regards and faithfulness probably does not deserve them.\" He leaned over and took Gwenhwyfar's hand in his own. \"I think this feasting long. Lancelet, how long before the riders are ready?\"\n\n\"I think they will be ready soon,\" Lancelet said, deliberately looking away from Gwenhwyfar. \"Does my lord and king wish me to go and see?\"\n\nMorgaine thought, He is torturing himself, he cannot bear to look on Gwenhwyfar with Arthur, he cannot bear to leave her alone with him. She said, deliberately making a joke of a truth, \"I think, Lancelet, our bridal couple wishes to have a few moments to talk together alone. Why do we not leave them here and go down and see ourselves whether the riders are ready.\"\n\nLancelet said, \"My lord-\" and as Gwenhwyfar opened her mouth to protest, he said roughly, \"Give me leave to go.\"\n\nArthur nodded permission, and Morgaine took his hand. He let her draw him along, but she saw him turn his head halfway, as if he could not take his eyes from Gwenhwyfar. Her heart was wrung; atone and the same time it seemed that she could not bear his pain, and that she would do anything to get him away so that she need not see him look at Gwenhwyfar. Behind her she heard Arthur say, \"Until yesterday evening I had no idea that the fates, in sending me a bride, had sent me a beautiful one,\" and Gwenhwyfar answer, \"But it was not the fates, my lord, it was my father.\" Before Morgaine could hear what Arthur answered, they were out of earshot." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I remember,\" Morgaine said, \"once, years ago, at Avalon, you spoke of cavalry as the key to victory over the Saxons-that and a disciplined army, like to the Romans." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I suppose that is what you plan for these horsemen.\"\n\n\"It is true that I have been training them. I had not imagined that a woman would remember a point of military strategy, cousin.\"\n\nMorgaine laughed. \"I live under fear of the Saxons, like every other woman in these islands. I passed through a village once where a band of them had passed over, and every woman from little girls of five years old to old grandmothers in their nineties with no teeth and no hair had been raped. Whatever offers hope to rid us of them once and for all is meaningful tome, perhaps more than to men and soldiers, who need to fear only death.\"\n\n\"I had not thought of that,\" Lancelet said soberly. \"Uther Pendragon's troops were not above scouring the countryside for willing women-nor are Arthur's-but in general, there is no rape. And I had forgotten, Morgaine, you were trained at Avalon and you think often on things which mean little or nothing to other women.\" He looked up and clasped her hand in his. \"I had forgotten the harps of Avalon. I thought I hated the place, that I never wished to go back. And yet-sometimes-some little thing will take me back there. The sound of a harp. Sunlight on ring stones. The scent of apples and the sound of bees in the sun. Fish splashing in the lake, and the cries of waterbirds at sunset-\"\n\n\"Do you remember,\" she asked softly, \"the day we climbed the Tor?\"\n\n\"I remember.\" With sudden bitterness he said, \"I would to God you had not been sworn to the Goddess, that day.\"\n\nShe said in a low voice, \"I have wished it almost as long as I can remember.\" Her voice suddenly broke, and Lancelet looked with apprehension into her eyes." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Morgaine, Morgaine-kinswoman, I have never seen you weep.\"\n\n\"Are you like so many men, afraid of a woman's tears?\"\n\nHe shook his head, and his arm went around her shoulders. \"No,\" he confessed in a low voice, \"it makes them seem so much more real, so much more vulnerable-women who never weep frighten me, because I know they are stronger than I, and I am always a little afraid of what they will do. I was always afraid of-Viviane.\" She sensed that he had been about to say my mother, and had shrunk from the words.\n\nThey were passing under the low lintel of the stables; the long line of horses, tied there, shadowed the day. There was a pleasant smell of hay and straw. Outside, she saw men moving back and forth, erecting piles of hay, standing up mannikins of stuffed leather, and men were coming in and out, saddling their horses.\n\nSomeone caught sight of Lancelet and shouted, \"Will the High King and their lordships be ready for us soon, sir? We don't want to bring the horses out and keep them standing to get restless.\"\n\n\"Soon,\" Lancelet called back.\n\nThe soldier behind the horse resolved himself into Gawaine. \"Ah, cousin,\" he said to Morgaine. \"Lance, don't bring her inhere, it's no place fora lady, a few of these damned beasts are still unbroken. Are you still resolved to takeout that white stallion?\"\n\n\"I'm resolved to have him ready for Arthur to ride into battle next time, if I break my own neck for it!\"\n\n\"Don't jest about things like that,\" Gawaine said. \"Who says I am jesting? If Arthur can't ride him, I'll ride him myself in battle, and I'll show him this afternoon in honor of the Queen!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Lancelet,\" Morgaine said, \"don't risk your neck for that. Gwenhwyfar doesn't know one horse from another, she'd be as impressed if you rode a hobbyhorse from one end of the yard to another as by the feats of the centaur himself!\"\n\nThe look he gave her was, fora moment, almost contemptuous, but she could read it clearly: How could she understand his need to show himself undamaged by this day?\n\n\"Go and get saddled, Gawaine, and give the word on the field, we'll be ready in half an hour,\" said Lancelet, \"and ask Cai if he wants to start.\"\n\n\"Don't tell me Cai's going to ride, wi'that crippled leg o\" his?\" demanded one of the men who spoke in a strange accent. Gawaine turned on the stranger and said fiercely, \"Would you grudge him that-the one military exercise where that leg makes no difference and he's not tied to the kitchens and the ladies\" bowers?\"\n\n\"Na, na, I see what ye mean,\" said the strange soldier, and turned to saddling his own horse. Morgaine touched Lancelet's hand; he looked down at her, the mischief back in his eyes. Here, she thought, arranging something, risking his neck, doing something for Arthur, he has forgotten about love, he is happy again. If he could only keep himself busy here, he would not need to moon after Gwenhwyfar or any other woman.\n\nShe said, \"Show me this dangerous horse you are going to ride.\" He led her down between the rows of tied steeds. She saw the pale silvery nose, the long mane like linen floss-a big horse, tall as Lancelet himself across the shoulders. The creature tossed his head, and the snort was like a dream of dragons breathing fire." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Oh, you beauty,\" said Lancelet, laying his hand alongside the horse's nose; he sidled and stepped away." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He said to Morgaine, \"This one I trained with my own hands to bit and stirrup-it was my wedding present to Arthur, who has no leisure to break a horse for his own use. I swore it would be ready on his wedding day, for him to ride, and gentle as a house pet.\"\n\n\"A thoughtful gift,\" said Morgaine.\n\n\"No, the only thing I could give,\" Lancelet said. \"I am not rich. And anyway, he has no need of jewels or gold, he is showered with those things. This was a gift only I could give him.\"\n\n\"A gift of yourself,\" said Morgaine, and thought, How he loves Arthur; this is why he is so tormented. It is not that he desires Gwenhwyfar that tortures him; it is that he loves Arthur no less. If he were simply a wencher like Gawaine I would not even pity him; Gwenhwyfar is virtuous, and I could take pleasure in seeing her turn him away.\n\nShe said, \"I would like to ride him. There is no horse I fear.\" He laughed. \"Morgaine, you fear nothing, do you?\"\n\n\"Oh, no, my kinsman,\" she said, suddenly sober, \"I fear many things.\"\n\n\"Well, I am not as fearless even as you, I am afraid of battle and I fear the Saxons and I fear I will be killed before I have tasted all there is to life,\" he said. \"And so I never dare shrink from any challenge.... And I fear lest both Avalon and the Christians are wrong, and there should be no Gods and no Heaven and no afterlife, so that when I die I will perish forever. So I fear to die before I have savored my fill of life.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It does not seem tome you have left much untasted,\" Morgaine said.\n\n\"Ah, but I have, Morgaine, there are so many things I long for, and whenever I pass one by I regret it so bitterly, and wonder what weakness or folly prevents me from doing what I will...\" he said, and suddenly he turned in the horse lanes and put his arms hungrily round her, pulling her close.\n\nDesperation, she thought bitterly; it is not me he wants, it is a moment of forgetfulness of Arthur and Gwenhwyfar in one another's arms this night. His hands moved, with a detached, practiced deftness, over her breasts; he pressed his lips to hers, and she could feel the whole hard length of his body pushing against her. She stood in his arms, motionless, feeling languor and arising hunger that was like pain; she was hardly conscious of her small movements, to fit her body against his. Her mouth opened under his lips, his hands were over her. But when he moved with her toward one of the piles of hay, she roused to a dim protest.\n\n\"My dear, you are mad, there are half a hundred of Arthur's soldiers and riders swarming in this stable-\"\n\n\"Do you mind,\" he whispered, and she murmured, shaking with excitement, \"No. No!\" She let him push her down. Through the back of her mind, in bitterness, was the thought, a princess, Duchess of Cornwall, a priestess of Avalon, tumbled in the stables like some dairymaid, without even the excuse of the Beltane fires. But she closed it away from her mind and let his hands move on her as they would, unresisting. Better this than break Arthur's heart. She did not know whether it washer own thought or that of the man whose body was somehow allover hers, whose fierce furious hands were bruising her; his kisses were almost savage, driving into her mouth in a rage. She felt him pull at her dress and moved to loosen it for him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "And then there were voices, clamoring, shouting, a noise like hammering, a frightened scream, and suddenly a dozen voices were all yelling." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\" Captain! Lord Lancelet! Where is he? Captain!\n\n\"Down here, I thought-\" One of the younger soldiers ran down between the horse lines. Swearing savagely under his breath, Lancelet thrust his body between Morgaine and the young soldier, while she buried her face in her veil and hunched herself, half-naked already, into the straw so that she would not be seen.\n\n\"Damnation! Can't I be out of the way fora moment-\" \"Oh, sir, come quickly, one of the strange horses-there was a mare in season, and two of the stallions began fighting, and I think one of them's broken a leg-\"\n\n\"Hell and furies!\" Lancelet was swiftly tucking garments into place, rising and towering over the lad who had interrupted them. \"I'll come-\"\n\nThe young man had caught sight of Morgaine; she hoped in a moment of horror that he had not recognized her-that would be a fine juicy morsel of gossip for the court indeed. Not as bad as what they do not know... that I bore my brother's child.\n\n\"Did I interrupt anything, sir?\" the young man said, trying to peer around Lancelet, almost sniggering. Morgaine wondered disconsolate, What will this do to his reputation? Or is it to a man's credit to be caught in the hay? Lancelet did not even answer; he shoved the youngster along before him, so that he almost fell. \"Go and find Cai, and the farrier, get along with you.\" He came swiftly back, a whirlwind, kissed Morgaine who had staggered somehow to her feet. \"Gods! Of all the damnable-\" He pressed her hard against him, with hungry fingers, kissed her so hard that she felt the brand of it was scalding red on her face. \"Gods! Tonight-swear it! Swear!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She couldn't speak. She could only nod, dazed, numb, her whole body screaming for the interrupted fulfillment, as she saw him rush away. A minute or two later a young man came up to her deferentially and bowed, while soldiers began rushing back and forth and somewhere there was the terrible, almost human scream of a dying animal.\n\n\"Lady Morgaine? I am Griflet. The lord Lancelet sent me to escort you to the pavilions. He told me he had brought you down hereto seethe horse he is training for my lord the king, but that you had slipped and fallen in the hay, and that he was trying to see if you had hurt yourself when they began shrieking for him-when this fight broke outwith King Pellinore's horse. And he begs you to excuse him and return to the castle-\"\n\nWell, she thought, at least it explained her kirtle crushed and stained with hay and her hair and headcloth filled with hayseed. She need not go before Gwenhwyfar and her mother looking like the woman in Scriptures, the one taken in adultery; young Griflet held out his arm and she leaned on it heavily, saying, \"I think my ankle is twisted,\" and limped all the way up to the castle. It would explain the hay, if she had had a hurt and fallen hard. One part of her was glad of Lancelet's quick thinking; the other, desolate, cried out for him to acknowledge and shelter her.\n\nArthur had gone off with Cai to the stables, distressed at the accident to the horses. She let Gwenhwyfar fuss over her and Igraine send for cold water and linen strips to bandage her ankle, and she accepted a place at Igraine's side, in the shade, when horses and men rode out to display their exercises. Arthur made a little speech about the new legion of Caerleon which would revive the glories of the days of Rome, and save the countryside. His foster-father, Ectorius, was beaming. Then a dozen riders rode out, displaying the new skills with which the horses could stop in mid gallop, pull up, wheel, move together." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"After this,\" Arthur declared grandly, \"no one will ever again say that horses are fit for nothing but to move wagons!\" He smiled at Gwenhwyfar. \"How do you like my knights, my lady? I have called them after the old Roman equites-noblemen who could own and fit out their own horse.\"\n\n\"Cai rides as well as a centaur,\" Igraine said to Ectorius, and the old man smiled with pleasure. \"Arthur, you never did a kinder thing than when you gave Cai one of the best of the horses.\"\n\n\"Cai is too good a soldier, and too good a friend, to wither in the house,\" said Arthur decisively.\n\nGwenhwyfar said, \"Is he not your foster-brother?\"\n\n\"True. He was wounded in his first battle, and feared he would skulk at home with the women forever after that,\" said Arthur. \"A frightful fate fora soldier. But on horseback he fights as well as any.\"\n\n\"Look,\" exclaimed Igraine, \"the legion has smashed down that whole series of targets-I have never seen such riding!\"\n\n\"I don't think anything could stand against that attack,\" said King Pellinore. \"What a pity Uther Pendragon could not live to see this, my boy-excuse me-my lord and king-\"\n\nArthur said warmly, \"My father's friend may call me whatever he wishes, dear Pellinore! But the credit must go to my friend and captain, Lancelet.\"\n\nMorgause's son Gaheris bobbed in a bow to Arthur. \"My lord, may I go down to the stables and see them unsaddled?\" He was a bright, merry-looking boy of fourteen or so." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You may,\" said Arthur." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"When will he come to join Gawaine and Agravaine at our side, Aunt?\"\n\n\"This year, perhaps, if his brothers can teach him soldierly arts and keep him close,\" Morgause said, then raised her voice: \"No! Not you, Gareth!\" and made a snatch at the chubby six-year-old. \"Gaheris! Bring him back here!\"\n\nArthur spread his hands with a laugh. \"Don't worry about it-boys run to stables like fleas to dogs. I have been told how I rode my father's stallion when I was scarce six years old! I don't remember; it was only a little before I went to be fostered with Ectorius,\" he said, and Morgaine shivered suddenly, remembering a fair-haired child lying like death and something like a shadow in a bowl of water-no, it was gone.\n\n\"Does your ankle pain you much, sister?\" Gwenhwyfar asked solicitously. \"Here, lean against me-\"\n\n\"Gawaine will look after him,\" Arthur said offhandedly. \"I think he's the best man we have at training the young knights and riders.\"\n\n\"Better than the lord Lancelet?\" asked Gwenhwyfar. Morgaine thought, She only wants to speak his name. But it is me he wanted, not long ago, and tonight it will be too late... better that than break Arthur's heart. I will tell Gwenhwyfar if I must.\n\nArthur said, \"Lancelet? He's our best rider, though too much of a daredevil for my taste. The lads all adore him, of course-look, there's your little Gareth, Aunt, tagging after him like a puppy-they'll do anything fora kind word from him. But he's not as good at teaching the boys their business as Gawaine; he's too flamboyant and he likes to showoff. Gawaine takes them slow and easy and makes them learn the art step by step, and they never get hurt through carelessness-Gawaine's my best arms master. Look, there's Lancelet on that horse he's training for me-\" He burst into a laugh, and Igraine said, \"That little devil!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "For Gareth had swung like a monkey from the saddle leather, and Lancelet, laughing, scooped up the boy in front of him on his saddle and broke into a fast gallop, racing directly up the hill toward the sheltered place where the royal party sat watching. They raced at breakneck speed straight toward them, so that even Arthur gasped and Igraine stepped back, her face white. Lancelet pulled up the horse so that it reared into the air and wheeled it round.\n\n\"Your horse, lord Arthur,\" he said with a flourish, holding the reins with one hand, \"and your cousin. Aunt Morgause, take this little scapegrace and tan his breeches for him!\" he added, letting Gareth slide down almost into Morgause's lap. \"He could have been killed under the stallion's feet like that!\"\n\nGareth heard not a word of Morgause's scolding, looking up at Lancelet, his blue eyes wide with adoration.\n\n\"When you get older,\" Arthur said, laughing, aiming a playful cuff at the child, \"I will make you a knight and you shall ride out to conquer giants and evil raiders, and rescue fair ladies.\"\n\n\"Oh no, my lord Arthur,\" said the child, his eyes still fastened on the white horse which Lancelet was riding up and down. \"The lord Lancelet shall make me a knight, and we will goon a quest together.\"\n\nEctorius chuckled and said, \"Young Achilles has found his Patroclus, so it would seem.\"\n\n\"I am quite in the shade,\" Arthur said good-naturedly. \"Even my new-made wife cannot take her eyes from Lancelet, and begs him to call her by her Christian name, and now little Gareth would rather be made knight by him! If Lance were not my closest friend, I should be mad with jealousy.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Pellinore was watching the rider cantering up and down. He said, \"That damnable dragon is still hiding in a lake on my lands, and coming out to kill my tenants or their cows. Perhaps if I had a horse like that, who would stand to fight... I think I will train a battle horse and go after it again. Last time I barely got away with my life.\"\n\n\"A dragon, sir?\" asked little Gareth. \"Did it breathe fire?\"\n\n\"No, lad, but it had an almighty stench and a noise like sixty packs of hounds all baying together from his belly,\" said Pellinore, and Ectorius said, \"Dragons do not breathe fire, my lad. That comes from the old way of calling a shooting star a dragon, for they have along tail of fire-there may have been dragons once who breathed fire, but not in the memory of any living man.\"\n\nMorgaine was not listening, though she wondered how much of Pellinore's tale was true, and how much exaggerated to impress the child. Her eyes were on Lancelet, putting the horse through its paces.\n\nArthur said to Gwenhwyfar, \"I could never train a horse like that-Lancelet is training it to battle for me. Look, two months ago that one was wild as one of Pellinore's dragons, and now look at him!\"\n\n\"He seems still wild tome,\" said Gwenhwyfar. \"But then, I am afraid even of the gentlest horses.\"\n\n\"A horse to be ridden in battle must not be meek as a lady's palfrey,\" said Arthur. \"He must have spirit-God in heaven!\" he cried out, rising up suddenly. From somewhere there was a blur of white; a bird of some kind, a goose perhaps, had suddenly flapped upward, right under the horse's hooves. Lancelet, riding at ease, his vigilance relaxed, started as the horse reared upright with a frantic whicker; fought for control, slid off almost under the hooves; half senseless, managed to roll away." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar screamed. Morgause and the other ladies echoed the scream, while Morgaine, quite forgetting she was supposed to have an injured ankle, leaped up and ran toward Lancelet, dragging him out from under the horse's hooves. Arthur too dashed for the horse's bridle, grabbing it, wrestling the horse by main force away from where Lancelet sprawled unconscious. Morgaine knelt beside him, quickly feeling his temple, where a bruise already darkened and a trickle of blood mingled with the dust. \"Is he dead?\" Gwenhwyfar cried. \"Is he dead?\"\n\n\"No,\" Morgaine said with asperity. \"Bring some cold water, and there ought to be some of that bandage linen left. He's broken his wrist, I think; he broke his fall with it so as not to break his neck! And the clout on his head-\" She bent down, laying her ear against his chest, feeling the warm rise and fall of it. She took the basin of cold water Pellinore's daughter handed her, sponging his brow with a bit of linen. \"Someone catch that goose and wring its neck-and give the goose boy a good thrashing. The lord Lancelet could have broken his head, or damaged the High King's horse.\"\n\nGawaine came and led the horseback to the stables. The near tragedy had dampened the festivities, and one by one the guests began to drift away to their own pavilions and quarters. Morgaine bound up Lancelet's head and his broken wrist, mercifully completing the work of splinting the wrist before he stirred and moaned and clutched at it in agony; then, in conference with the housekeeper, sent Cai for some herbs which would make him sleep and had him carried to bed. She stayed with him, though he did not know her, only moaned and stared about with eyes that refused to stay in focus. Once he stared at her, and muttered'Mother-\" and her heart sank. After awhile he fell into a heavy, restless sleep, and when he woke, he knew her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Morgaine? Cousin? What happened?\"\n\n\"You fell off a horse.\"\n\n\"A horse? What horse?\" he asked, confused, and when she told him he said positively, \"That's ridiculous. I don't falloff horses,\" and dropped off to sleep again.\n\nMorgaine sat beside him, letting him clutch at her hand, and felt that her heart would break. The mark of his kisses was still on her mouth, on her aching breasts. Yet the moment had passed, and she knew it. Even if he should remember, he would not want her; he had never wanted her, except to dull the agony of thinking of Gwenhwyfar and of his love for his king and cousin.\n\nIt was growing dark; faraway in the castle she heard sounds of music again-Kevin was harping. There was laughter, singing, festivity. Suddenly the door opened, and Arthur himself, carrying a torch in his hand, came in.\n\n\"Sister, how does Lancelet?\"\n\n\"He'll live; his head's too hard to break,\" she said with a hard flippancy.\n\n\"We wanted you among the witnesses when the bride was put to bed, as you witnessed the marriage contract,\" said Arthur. \"But I suppose he should not be left alone, and I wouldn't want him left to a chamberlain, not even to Cai. He's fortunate he has you with him. You are his foster-sister, are you not?\"\n\n\"No,\" said Morgaine, with unexpected anger.\n\nArthur came to the bedside and picked up Lancelet's limp hand. The injured man moaned, stirred, and looked up, blinking. \"Arthur?\"\n\n\"I'm here, my friend,\" said Arthur, and Morgaine thought she had never heard a man's voice so tender." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Is your horse-all right?\"\n\n\"The horse is fine. Damn the horse,\" Arthur said. \"If you'd been killed, what good would a horse be tome?\" He was almost weeping.\n\n\"How did it-happen?\"\n\n\"A damned goose flew up. The goose boy's in hiding. I think he knows he'll be beaten within an inch of his life!\"\n\n\"Don't do that,\" Lancelet said. \"He's only a poor stupid creature without all his wits. He's not to blame that the geese are cleverer than he is, and one wandered loose. Promise me, Gwydion.\" She was astonished that he used the old name. Arthur pressed his hand, and bent down to kiss Lancelet on the cheek, carefully avoiding the bruised side.\n\n\"I promise, Galahad. Sleep, now.\"\n\nLancelet gripped his hand hard. \"I came close to wrecking your wedding night, didn't I?\" he said, with something Morgaine recognized as her own hard irony.\n\n\"Believe you did-my bride has wept so hard over you, I wonder what she would do if 7 had broken my head?\" Arthur demanded, laughing.\n\nMorgaine said fiercely, \"Arthur, even if you are the King, he must be kept quiet!\"\n\n\"Right.\" Arthur straightened. \"I will send the Merlin to look in at him tomorrow; he should not be left alone tonight, though-\"\n\n\"I'll stay with him,\" she said angrily.\n\n\"Well, if you are sure-\"\n\n\"Go you back to Gwenhwyfar! Your bride is waiting for you!\"\n\nArthur sighed, subdued. After a moment he said, \"I don't know what to say to her. Or what to do.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This is ridiculous-does he expect me to instruct him, or to instruct his bride? At the look in his eyes she lowered her own. She said, very gently, \"Arthur, it is simple. Do as the Goddess prompts you.\"\n\nHe looked like a stricken child. At last he said, hoarsely, fighting the words, \"She-she isn't the Goddess. She's just a girl, and she's-she's frightened.\" After a moment he blurted out, \"Morgaine, don't you know that I still-\"\n\nShe could not bear what he might be going to say. \"No!\" she said violently, holding up her hand, commanding silence. \"Arthur, remember one thing at least. To her you will always be the God. Come to her as the Horned One....\"\n\nArthur crossed himself and shivered. He whispered at last, \"God forgive me; this is the punishment...\" and fell silent. They stood, looking at each other, unable to speak. Finally he said, \"Morgaine, I have no right-will you kiss me once?\"\n\n\"My brother-\" She sighed, stood on tiptoe and kissed his forehead. Then she signed his head with the sign of the Goddess. \"Bless you,\" she whispered. \"Arthur, go to her, go to your bride. I promise you, I promise in the name of the Goddess, it will be well, I swear it to you.\"\n\nHe swallowed-she saw the muscles in his throat move. Then he broke away from her eyes and muttered, \"God bless you, sister.\" The door closed behind him.\n\nMorgaine dropped down on a chair, and sat, unmoving, staring at Lancelet's sleep, tormented by pictures in her mind. Lancelet's face, smiling at her in sunlight on the Tor. Gwenhwyfar, water-draggled, her skirts soaked, clinging to Lancelet's hand. The Horned God, his face smeared with deer's blood, drawing aside the curtain at the mouth of the cave. Lancelet's mouth frantic on her breasts-had it been only a few hours ago?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"At least,\" she muttered aloud fiercely, \"he will not spend Arthur's bridal night dreaming of Gwenhwyfar.\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She laid herself down along the edge of the bed, pressing her body carefully against the hurt man's body; she lay there silent, not even weeping, sunk in a despairing misery too deep for tears. But she did not close her eyes that night, fighting the Sight, fighting dreams, struggling for the silence and the numb absence of thought she had been taught in Avalon.\n\nAnd faraway, in the furthest wing of the castle, Gwenhwyfar lay awake, looking in guilty tenderness at Arthur's hair shining in the moonlight, his chest that rose and fell with his quiet breathing. Tears trickled slowly down her cheeks.\n\nI want so much to love him, she thought, and then she prayed. \"Oh, God, holy Mary Virgin, help me to love him as I ought to do, he is my king and my lord and he is so good, he deserves someone who will love him more than I can love.\" All around her, it seemed, the night breathed sadness and despair.\n\nBut why, she wondered. Arthur is happy. He has nothing with which to reproach me. Whence comes this sorrow in the very air?\n\nOn a day in late summer, Queen Gwenhwyfar, with several of her ladies, satin the hall at Caerleon. It was afternoon and very hot; most of them were making a pretense of spinning, or of carding the last of that spring's wool for spinning, but the spindles moved sluggishly, and even the Queen, who was the best needlewoman among them, had ceased to set stitches in the fine altar cloth she was making for the bishop.\n\nMorgaine laid aside the carded wool for spinning and sighed. At this season of the year she was always homesick, longing for the mists that crept in from the sea over the cliffs at Tintagel... she had not seen them since she was a little child." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Arthur and his men, with the Caerleon legion, had ridden out to the southern coast, to examine the new fort that the Saxons of the treaty troops had built there." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "This summer had brought no raid, and it might well be that the Saxons, except for those who had made treaty with Arthur and were living peacefully in the Kentish country, would give up Britain for lost. Two years of Arthur's horse legion had reduced the Saxon fighting to a sporadic summer exercise; but Arthur had taken this season of quiet to fortify all the defenses of the coasts.\n\n\"I am thirsty again,\" said Pellinore's daughter, Elaine. \"May I go, my lady, and ask for more pitchers of water to be sent?\"\n\n\"Call Cai-he will attend to it,\" Gwenhwyfar said.\n\nMorgaine thought: She has grown a great deal; from a scared and timid child she has become a queen.\n\n\"You should have married Cai when the King wished for it, lady Morgaine,\" said Elaine, returning from her errand and sitting down on the bench beside Morgaine. \"He is the only man under sixty in the castle, and\| his wife will never lie alone for half a year at a time.\"\n\n\"You are welcome to him, if you want him,\" Morgaine said amiably.\n\n\"I still wonder that you did not,\" Gwenhwyfar said, as if it were an\| old grievance. \"It would have been so suitable-Cai, the King's foster-brother and high in his favor, and you, Arthur's sister and Duchess of Cornwall in your own right, now that the lady Igraine never leaves her nunnery!\"\n\nDrusilla, daughter of one of the petty kings to the east, snickered. \"Tell me, if the King's sister and brother marry, how is it other than incest?\"\n\n\"Half-sister and foster-brother, you goose,\" said Elaine. \"But tell me, lady Morgaine, was it only his scars and lameness that deterred you? Cai is no beauty, certainly, but he would be a good husband.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am not deceived by you,\" Morgaine retorted, pretending a good humor she did not feel-did these women think of nothing but marriages? \"You care nothing for my wedded happiness with Cai, you merely wished fora wedding to break the monotony of the summer. But you should not be greedy. Sir Griflet was married to Meleas last spring, and that should be weddings enough for now.\" She glanced at Meleas, whose dress had already begun to grow tight over her pregnant body. \"You will even have a babe to fuss and coo over this time next year.\"\n\n\"But you are long unmarried, lady Morgaine,\" said Alienor of Galis. \"And you could hardly have hoped fora better match than the King's own foster-brother!\"\n\n\"I am in no great haste to be wed, and Cai had no more mind tome than Ito him.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar chuckled. \"True. He has a tongue near as waspish as your own, and no sweet temper-his wife will need more patience than the saintly Brigid, and you, Morgaine, are ever ready with a sharp answer.\"\n\n\"And besides, if she should marry, she would have to spin for her household,\" Meleas said. \"As usual, Morgaine is shirking her share of the spinning!\" Her own spindle began to twirl again, and the reel sank slowly toward the floor.\n\nMorgaine shrugged. \"It is true I had rather card wool, but there is no more to card,\" she said, and reluctantly took up the drop spindle.\n\n\"You are the best spinner among us, though,\" said Gwenhwyfar. \"Your thread is always even and never breaks. Mine breaks if one looks at\"\n\n\"I have always been neat-handed. Perhaps I am simply tired of spinning, since my mother taught me when I was so young,\" Morgaine conceded, and began, reluctantly, to turn the thread in her fingers." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "True-she hated spinning and shirked it when she could... twisting, turning the thread in her fingers, willing her body to stillness with only her fingers twisting as the reel turned and turned, sinking to the floor... down and then up, twist and twist between her hands... all too easy it was to sink into trance. The women were gossiping over the little affairs of the day, Meleas and her morning sickness, a woman who had come from Lot's court with scandalous tales of Lot's lechery... I could tell them much if I would, not even his wife's niece escaped his lecherous hands.... It took me all my thought and sharp tongue to keep out of his bed; he cares not, maiden or matron, duchess or dairymaid, so it wears a skirt... twist the thread, twist again, watch the spindle turning, turning. Gwydion must be a great boy by now, three years old, ready fora toy sword and wooden knights such as she had made for Gareth, instead of pet kittens and knucklebones. She remembered Arthur's weight on her lap when she was a little girl here at Caerleon in Uther's court... how fortunate it was that Gwydion did not resemble his father; a small replica of Arthur at Lot's court would have made tongues wag indeed. Soon or late, someone would still put together reel and spindle and spin the right thread to the answer.... Morgaine jerked her head up angrily. It was all too easy to fall into trance at the spinning, but she must do her share, there must be thread to weave this winter, and the ladies were making a cloth for banquets.... Cai was not the only man under fifty in the castle; there was Kevin the Bard, who had come herewith news from the Summer Country... how slowly the spindle moved toward the floor... twist, twist the thread, as if her fingers had life of their own, apart from her own life.. even in Avalon she had hated to spin... in Avalon among the priestesses she had tried to take more than her share of the work among the dye pots, to avoid the hated spinning, which sent her mind roaming as her fingers moved... as the thread turned, it was like the spiral dance along the Tor, round and round, as the world turned round the sun in the sky, though ignorant folk thought it was the other way.... Things were not always as they seemed, it might be that the reel went round the thread, as the thread went round itself over and over, spinning like a serpent... like a dragon in the sky... if she were a man and could ride outwith the Caerleon legion, at least she need not sit and spin, spin, spin, round and round... but even\n\nthe Caerleon legion went round the Saxons, and the Saxons went round them, round and round, as the blood went round in their veins, red blood flooding, flooding... spilling over the hearth-" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine heard her own shriek only after it had shattered the silence in the room. She dropped the spindle, which rolled away into the blood which flooded crimson, spilling, spurting over the hearth....\n\n\"Morgaine! Sister, did you prick your hand on the reel? What ails you?\"\n\n\"Blood on the hearth-\" Morgaine stammered. \"See, there, there, just before the King's high seat, slain there like a slaughtered sheep before the King...\"\n\nElame shook her; dizzied, Morgaine passed her hand before her eyes. There was no blood, only the slow crawl of the afternoon sun.\n\n\"Sister, what did you see?\" asked Gwenhwyfar gently.\n\nMother Goddess! It has happened again! Morgaine tried to steady her breathing. \"Nothing, nothing... I must have fallen asleep and dreamed fora moment.\"\n\n\"Didn't you see anything?\" Calla, the fat wife of the steward, peered avidly at Morgaine. Morgaine remembered the last time, more than a year ago, when she had gone into trance over her spinning and foreseen that Cai's favorite horse had broken its leg in the stables and must have its throat cut. She said impatiently, \"No, nothing but a dream-I dreamed last night of eating goose and I have not tasted it since Easter! Must every dream be a portent?\"\n\n\"If you are going to prophesy, Morgaine,\" teased Elaine, \"you should tell us something sensible, like, when will the men be home so we may have the wine warmed, or whether Meleas is making swaddling bands fora girl or a boy, or when the Queen will get pregnant!\"\n\n\"Shut up, you beast,\" hissed Calla, for Gwenhwyfar's eyes had filled with tears. Morgaine's head was splitting with the aftermath of unsought trance; it seemed that little lights were crawling before her eyes, pale shining worms of color that would grow and spread over her whole field of vision. She knew she should let it pass, but even as that knowledge crossed her mind, she exploded, \"I am so weary of that old jest! I am no village wise-woman, to meddle with birth charms and love potions and foretellings and spells. I am a priestess, not a witch!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Come, come,\" Meleas said peacefully." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Let Morgaine be. This sun is enough to make anyone see things that are not there; even if she did see blood spilt on the hearth, it is just as like that some lack-witted serving-man will overset a half-roasted joint here, and the red gravy spill down! Will you drink, lady?\" She went to the bucket of water, dipped the ladle and held it out, and Morgaine drank thirstily. \"I never heard that most prophecy came to aught-one might as well ask her when Elaine's father will finally catch and slay that dragon he goes off to pursue, in and out of season.\"\n\nPredictably, the diversion worked. Calla jested, \"If there was ever a dragon at all, and he was not merely seeking an excuse to go abroad from home when he was weary of the hearth!\"\n\n\"If I were a man, and wedded to Pellinore's lady,\" Alienor said, \"I might well prefer the company of a dragon I could not find, to the company of one in my bed.\"\n\n\"Tell me, Elaine,\" asked Meleas, \"is there truly a dragon, or does your father follow it because it is simpler than seeing to his cows? Men need not sit and spin when there is war, but when there is peace, they may grow weary of the fowlyard and the pastures, I suppose.\"\n\n\"I have never seen the dragon,\" Elaine said. \"God forbid. But something takes the cows from time to time, and once I did see a great slime trail in the fields, and smell the stench; and a cow lay there quite eaten away, and covered with afoul slime. Not the work of a wolf, that, nor even a glutton.\"\n\n\"Cows vanishing,\" jeered Calla. \"The fairy folk are not, I suppose, too good Christians to steal a cow now and then, when the deer are not to be found.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"And speaking of cows,\" Gwenhwyfar said firmly, \"I think I must ask Cai whether there is a sheep or a kid for slaughter." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "We need meat. Should the men come home this night or tomorrow, we cannot feed them all on porridge and buttered bread! And even the butter is beginning to fail in this heat. Come with me, Morgaine. I would that your Sight could tell me when we shall have rain! All of you, clear the thread and wool from the benches here, and put the work away. Elaine, child, take my embroidery work to my chamber and see that nothing spots it.\"\n\nAs they went toward the hallway, she said, low, \"Did you truly see blood, Morgaine?\"\n\n\"I dreamed,\" repeated Morgaine stubbornly.\n\nGwenhwyfar looked at her sharply, but there was real affection between them sometimes, and she did not pursue the subject. \"If you did, God grant it be Saxon blood, and spilt far from this hearth. Come, let us ask Cai about the stock kept for meat. It is no season for hunting, and I have no wish to have the men about and hunting here when they come again.\" She yawned. \"I wish the heat would break. We might yet have a thunderstorm-the milk was soured this morning. I should tell the maids to make clabber cheese with what's left of it, not throw it to the pigs.\"\n\n\"You area notable housewife, Gwenhwyfar,\" Morgaine said wryly. \"I would not have thought of that, so that it was out of my sight; but the smell of curd cheese clings so to the dairies! I would rather have the pigs well fattened.\"\n\n\"They are fat enough in this weather, with all the acorns ripe,\" said Gwenhwyfar, looking at the sky again. \"Look, is that a flash of lightning?\" Morgaine followed her eyes, seeing the streak of glare across the sky. \"Aye. The men will come home wet and cold, we should have hot wine ready for them,\" she said absentmindedly, then started, as Gwenhwyfar blinked." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Now do I believe, indeed, that you have the Sight-certainly there is no sound of hooves nor no word from the watchtower,\" Gwenhwyfar said. \"I will tell Cai to be sure there is meat, anyway.\" And she went along the yard, while Morgaine stood, pressing her aching head with one hand.\n\nThis is not good. At Avalon she had learned to control the Sight, not let it slip upon her unawares, when she was not attending.... Soon she would be a village witch indeed, peddling charms and prophesying boy-or girl-children and new lovers for the maidens, from sheer boredom at the pettiness of life among the women. The gossip bored her to spinning, the spinning beguiled her into trance.... One day, no doubt, I would sink low enough to give Gwenhwyfar the charm she wants, so that she may bear Arthur a son... barrenness is a heavy burden fora queen, and only once in these two years has she shown any sign of breeding.\n\nYet she found Gwenhwyfar's company, and Elaine's, endurable; most of the other women had never had a single thought beyond the next meal or the next reel of thread spun. Gwenhwyfar and Elaine had had some learning, and occasionally, sitting at ease with them, she could almost imagine herself peacefully among the priestesses in the House of Maidens. The storm broke just before sunset-there was hail that clattered in the courtyard and bounced on the stones, there was drenching rain; and when the watchtower called down the news of riders, Morgaine never doubted that it was Arthur and his men. Gwenhwyfar called for torches to light the courtyard, and shortly after, the walls of Caerleon were bulging with men and horses. Gwenhwyfar had conferred with Cai and he had slaughtered not a kid, but sheep, so there was meat roasting and hot broth for the men. Most of the legion camped all through the outer court and the field, and like any commander, Arthur saw to the encampment of his men and the stabling of their horses before he came into the courtyard where Gwenhwyfar awaited him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "His head was bandaged under his helmet, and he leaned a little on Lancelet's arm, but he brushed away her anxious query.\n\n\"A skirmish-Jute raiders along the coast. The Saxons of the treaty troops had already cleaned most of them away before we came there. Ha! I smell roast mutton-is this magic, when you did not know we were coming?\"\n\n\"Morgaine told me you would come, and there is hot wine as well,\" said Gwenhwyfar.\n\n\"Well, well, it is a boon to a hungry man to have a sister who is gifted with the Sight,\" said Arthur, with a jovial smile at Morgaine which rasped on her aching head and raw nerves. He kissed her, and turned back to Gwenhwyfar.\n\n\"You are hurt, my husband, let me see to it-\"\n\n\"No, no, I tell you it is nothing. I never lose much blood, you know that, not while I bear this scabbard about me,\" he said, \"but how is it with you, lady, after these many months? I had thought...\"\n\nHer eyes filled slowly with tears. \"I was wrong again. Oh, my lord, this time I was so sure, so sure...\"\n\nHe took her hand in his, unable to express his own disappointment in the face of his wife's pain. \"Well, well, we must certainly get Morgaine to give you a charm,\" he said; but he watched, his face momentarily setting into grim lines, as Meleas welcomed Griflet with a wifely kiss, holding her young swollen body proudly forward. \"We are not yet old folk, my Gwenhwyfar.\"\n\nBut, Gwenhwyfar thought, I am not so young either. Most of the women I know, save for Morgaine and Elaine who are yet unwedded, have great boys and girls by the time they are twenty; Igraine bore Morgaine when she was full fifteen, and Meleas is fourteen and a half, no more! She tried to look calm and unconcerned, but guilt gnawed within her. Whatever else a queen might do for her lord, her first duty was to give him a son, and she had not done that duty, though she had prayed till her knees ached." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How does my dear lady?\" Lancelet bowed before her, smiling, and she held him out her hand to kiss. \"Once again we return home and find you only more beautiful than ever. You are the only lady whose beauty never fades. I begin to think God has ordered it so, that when all other women age and grow old and thick and worn, you shall be ever beautiful.\"\n\nShe smiled at him and felt comforted. Perhaps it was just as well that she was not pregnant and ugly... she saw that he looked on Meleas with a faint scornful smile, and she felt that she could not bear to be ugly before Lancelet. Even Arthur looked shabby, as if he had slept in the same crumpled tunic all through the campaign, and wrapped himself, in mud and rain and weather, in his fine, much-worn cloak; but Lancelet looked as crisp and new, his cloak and tunic as well brushed, as if he had dressed himself for an Easter feast-his hair trimmed and combed smooth, his leather belt polished, and even the eagle feathers in his cap standing up dry and unwilted. He looked, Gwenhwyfar thought, more like a king than Arthur himself did.\n\nAs the serving-maidens carried round platters of meat and bread, Arthur drew Gwenhwyfar to his side.\n\n\"Come sit here between Lancelet and me, Gwen, and we will talk-it seems long since I heard a voice that was not rough and male, or smelled the scent of a woman's gown.\" He passed his handover her braid. \"Come you too, Morgaine, and sit by me-I am weary of campaigning, I want to hear small gossip, not the talk of the camp!\" He bit into a chunk of bread with eager hunger. \"And it is good to eat new-baked bread; I am tired of hard-baked army bread, and meat gone bad by keeping!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet had turned to smile at Morgaine.\n\n\"And you, how is it with you, kinswoman? I suppose there is no news from the Summer Country, or from Avalon? There is another here who is eager to hear it, if there is-my brother Balan rode with us.\"\n\n\"I have no news from Avalon,\" said Morgaine, feeling Gwenhwyfar watching her-or was she looking at Lancelet? \"But I have not seen Balan for many years-I suppose he would have later news than mine?\"\n\n\"He is there,\" Lancelet said, gesturing toward the men in the hall. \"Arthur bid him to dine here as my kinsman, and it would be a kindness in you, Morgaine, to take him a cup of wine from the high table. Like all men, he too is eager fora welcome from some woman, even if it be a kinswoman and not a sweetheart.\"\n\nMorgaine took one of the drinking cups, horn bound with wood, that sat on the high table, and beckoned a servant to pour wine into it; then she raised it between her hands and went around the table among the knights. She was pleasantly conscious of their regard, even though she knew they would look like this at any well-bred, finely dressed woman after so many months of campaign; it was not a particular compliment to her beauty. At least Balan, who was a cousin, almost a brother, would not eye her so hungrily.\n\n\"I greet you, kinsman. Lancelet, your brother, sent you some wine from the King's table.\"\n\n\"I beg you to sip it first, lady,\" he said, then blinked. \"Morgaine, is it you? I hardly knew you, you have grown so fine. I think of you always in the dress of Avalon, but you are like to my mother, indeed. How does the Lady?\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Extend the story in collaboration with the author.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 5" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet had turned to smile at Morgaine.\n\n\"And you, how is it with you, kinswoman? I suppose there is no news from the Summer Country, or from Avalon? There is another here who is eager to hear it, if there is-my brother Balan rode with us.\"\n\n\"I have no news from Avalon,\" said Morgaine, feeling Gwenhwyfar watching her-or was she looking at Lancelet? \"But I have not seen Balan for many years-I suppose he would have later news than mine?\"\n\n\"He is there,\" Lancelet said, gesturing toward the men in the hall. \"Arthur bid him to dine here as my kinsman, and it would be a kindness in you, Morgaine, to take him a cup of wine from the high table. Like all men, he too is eager fora welcome from some woman, even if it be a kinswoman and not a sweetheart.\"\n\nMorgaine took one of the drinking cups, horn bound with wood, that sat on the high table, and beckoned a servant to pour wine into it; then she raised it between her hands and went around the table among the knights. She was pleasantly conscious of their regard, even though she knew they would look like this at any well-bred, finely dressed woman after so many months of campaign; it was not a particular compliment to her beauty. At least Balan, who was a cousin, almost a brother, would not eye her so hungrily.\n\n\"I greet you, kinsman. Lancelet, your brother, sent you some wine from the King's table.\"\n\n\"I beg you to sip it first, lady,\" he said, then blinked. \"Morgaine, is it you? I hardly knew you, you have grown so fine. I think of you always in the dress of Avalon, but you are like to my mother, indeed. How does the Lady?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Morgaine set the cup to her lips-mere courtesy at this court, but perhaps stemming from a time when gifts from the King were tasted before a guest, when the poisoning of rival kings was not unknown." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She handed it to him, and Balan drank along draught before looking up at her again.\n\n\"I had hoped to have news of Viviane from you, kinsman-I have not returned to Avalon for many years,\" she said.\n\n\"Aye, I knew that you were in Lot's court,\" he said. \"Did you quarrel with Morgause? I hear that is easy done by any woman....\"\n\nMorgaine shook her head. \"No; but I wished to be far enough away to stay out of Lot's bed, and that is not easy done. The distance between Orkney and Caerleon is hardly far enough.\"\n\n\"And so you came to Arthur's court to be waiting-woman to his queen,\" said Balan. \"It is a more seemly court than that of Morgause, I daresay. Gwenhwyfar guards her maidens well, and makes good marriages for them, too-I see Griflet's lady is already big with her first. Has she not found you a husband, kinswoman?\"\n\nMorgaine forced herself to say gaily, \"Are you making an offer for me, sir Balan?\"\n\nHe chuckled. \"You are all too close kin tome, Morgaine, or I should accept your offer. But I heard some gossip that Arthur had intended you for Cai, and that seemed a good match tome, since you have left Avalon after all.\"\n\n\"Cai had no more mind tome than Ito him,\" said Morgaine sharply, \"and I have never said I would not return to Avalon, but only on that day when Viviane sends for me to come thither.\"\n\n\"When I was but a lad,\" Balan said-and fora moment, his dark eyes resting on Morgaine, she thought that indeed she could seethe resemblance to Lancelet even in this great coarse man-\"I thought ill of the Lady-of Viviane, that she did not love meas it was fit fora mother to do. But I think better of it now. As a priestess, she could not have had leisure to rear a son. And so she gave me into the hands of one who had no other work than that, and she gave me my foster-brother Balin.... Oh, yes, as a lad I felt guilty about that too, that I cared more for Balin than for our Lancelet, who is of my own flesh and blood. But now I know Balin is truly my own heart's brother, and Lancelet, though I admire him for the fine knight he is, will always be a stranger tome. And too,\" Balan said seriously, \"when Viviane gave me up to Dame Priscilla for fostering, she put me into a household where I would come to know the true God apd Christ. It seems tome strange, that if I had dwelt in Avalon with my own kin, I should be a heathen, even as Lancelet is....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine smiled a little. \"Well,\" she said, \"there I cannot share your gratitude, for I think it ill done of the Lady that her own son should abandon her Gods. But even Viviane has often said tome that men should have such manner of religious and spiritual counsel as liked them best, that which she could give, or other. Had I been truly pious and Christian at heart, no doubt, she would have let me live by the faith which was strong in my heart. Yet, though I was reared till I was eleven by Igraine, who was as good a Christian as any, I think perhaps it was ordained that I should seethe things of the spirit as they come to us from the Goddess.\"\n\n\"Balin would be able to argue that with you better than I,\" said Balan, \"for he is more pious than I and a better Christian. I should probably say to you what no doubt the priests have said, that there is only one true faith in which man and woman may trust. But you are my kinswoman, and I know my mother to be a good woman, and I have faith that even Christ will take her goodness into account on the last day. As for the rest, I am no priest and I see not why I should not leave all those matters to the priests who are schooled in them. I love Balin well, but he should have been a priest, not a warrior, if he is so tender of faith and conscience.\"He looked toward the high table and said,\" Tell me, foster-sister, you know him better than I-what lies so heavy on our brother Lancelet's heart?\"\n\nMorgaine bent her head and said, \"If I knew, Balan, it is not my secret to tell.\"\n\n\"You are right to bid me mind my own affairs,\" said Balan, \"but I hate seeing him miserable, and miserable he is. I thought ill of our mother, as I said, because she sent me so young from home, but she gave me a loving foster-mother, and a brother of my own age, reared at my side and as one with me in all things, and a home. She did less well by Lancelet. He was never at home-neither in Avalon nor yet at the court of Ban of Ben-wick, where he was dragged up as just another of the king's unregarded bastards.... Viviane did ill by him indeed, and I wish Arthur would give him a wife, so he might have a home at last.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well,\" said Morgaine lightly, \"if the King wishes me towed Lance-let, he need only name the day.\"\n\n\"You and Lancelet? Are you not too close kin for that?\" Balan asked, then thought fora moment. \"No, I suppose not-Igraine and Viviane were but half-sisters, and Gorlois and Ban of Ben wick are not in anyway akin. Though some of the church folk say foster-kin should be treated as blood kin for marriage... well, Morgaine, I will drink to your wedding with pleasure on that day Arthur gives you to my brother, and bids you love him and care for him as Viviane never did! And neither of you need leave court-you the Queen's favorite lady and Lancelet our King's dearest friend. I hope it comes to pass!\" His eyes dwelt on her with kindly concern. \"You too are well past the age when Arthur should give you to some man.\"\n\nAnd why should it be for the King to give me, as if I were one of his horses or dogs? Morgaine wondered, but shrugged; she had lived long in Avalon, she forgot at times that the Romans had made this the common law, that women were the chattels of their menfolk. The world had changed and there was no point in rebelling against what could not be altered.\n\nSoon after she began to skirt the edges of the great mead table which had been Gwenhwyfar's wedding gift to Arthur. The great hall herein Caerleon, large as it was, was not really large enough; atone point she had to clamber over the benches because the table pushed them so close to the wall, to get by the great curve of it. The pot boys and kitchen boys, too, had to sidle past with their smoking platters and cups." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Is Kevin not here?\" asked Arthur. \"Then we must have Morgaine to sing for us-I am hungry too for harps and all the things of civilized men. I am not surprised the Saxons spend all their time in making war. I have heard the dismal howling of their singers, and they have no reason to stay home!\"\n\nMorgaine asked one of Cai's helpers around the castle to fetch her harp from her chamber. He had to climb around the curve of the bench, and lost his footing; only the quickness of Lancelet, reaching out to steady boy and harp, kept the instrument from falling.\n\nArthur frowned. \"It was good of my father-in-law to send me this great round mead table,\" he said, \"but there is no chamber in Caerleon large enough for it. When the Saxons are driven away for good, I think I must build a hall just to hold it!\"\n\n\"Then will it never be built.\" Cai laughed. \"To say \"when the Saxons are driven away for good\" is like to saying \"when Jesus shall come again\" or \"when Hell freezes\" or \"when raspberries grow on the apple trees of Glastonbury.\"\"\n\n\"Or when King Pellinore catches his dragon,\" Meleas giggled.\n\nArthur smiled. \"You must not make fun of Pellinore's dragon,\" he said, \"for there is word it has been seen again, and he is off to find it and slay it this time-indeed, he asked the Merlin if he knew any dragon-catching spells!\"\n\n\"Oh, aye, it has been seen-like a troll on the hills, turned to stone by daylight, or the ring stones dancing on the night of the full moon,\" Lancelet gibed. \"There are always people who see whatever vision they will-some see saints and miracles, and some see dragons or the old fairy folk. But never did I know of living manor woman who had seen either dragon or fairy.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine remembered, against her will, the day in Avalon when she had gone searching for roots and herbs and strayed into the strange country where the fairy woman had spoken with her and had sought to foster her child... what, indeed, had she seen? Or had it been only the sick fantasy of a breeding woman?\n\n\"You say that, when you were yourself fostered as Lancelet of the Lake?\" she asked quietly, and Lancelet turned round to her. He said, \"There are times when that seems unreal tome-is it not so for you, sister?\"\n\nShe said, \"It is true indeed, but at times I am homesick for Avalon....\"\n\n\"Aye, and I too, kinswoman,\" he said. Never since that night of Arthur's marriage, byword or look had he implied that he had ever felt anything more for her than fora childhood companion and foster-sister. She had thought she had long accepted the pain of that, but it struck her anew as his dark, beautiful eyes met hers in such kindness.\n\nSoon or late, it must seem even as Balan said: we are both unmarried, the King's sister and his best friend....\n\nArthur said, \"Well, when the Saxons are driven away for good-and do not laugh as if that were a fabulous event! It can be done, now, and I think they know it-then I shall build myself a castle, and a great hall big enough for even this table. I have already chosen the site-it is a hill fort which was there long before Roman times, looking down on the Lake itself, and near to your father's island kingdom, Gwenhwyfar. You know the place, where the river flows into the Lake-\"\n\n\"I know,\" she said. \"When I was a small child I went there one day to pick strawberries. There was an old ruined well, and we found elf bolts there. The old folk who lived on the chalk had left their arrows.\" How strange, Gwenhwyfar thought, to remember that there had been a time when she had liked to go abroad under the wide, high sky, not even caring whether there was a wall or the safety of an enclosure; and now she grew sick and dizzy if she went out from the walls, where she could not see or touch them. Sometimes now she felt the lump of fear in her belly even when she walked across the courtyard, and had to hurry to touch the safety of the wall again." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is an easy place to fortify,\" Arthur said, \"though I hope, when we are done with the Saxons, we may have leisure and peace in this island.\"\n\n\"An ignoble wish fora warrior, brother,\" said Cai. \"What will you do in time of peace?\"\n\n\"I will call Kevin the Bard to make songs, and I will break my own horses and ride them for pleasure,\" Arthur said. \"My Companions and I will raise our sons without putting a sword in every little hand before it is full grown to manhood! And I need not fear they will be lamed or slain before they are full grown. Cai-would it not be better if you need not have been sent to war before you were old enough to guard yourself? Sometimes I feel it wrong that it was you, not I, who was lamed, because Ectorius wanted me kept safe for Uther!\" He looked with concern and affection at his foster-brother, and Cai grinned back at him.\n\n\"And,\" said Lancelet, \"we will keep the arts of war alive by holding games, as they did in the days of the ancients, and crown the winner of the games with laurel wreaths-what is laurel, Arthur, and does it grow in these islands? Or is it only in the land of Achilles and Alexander?\"\n\n\"The Merlin could tell you that,\" Morgaine said, when Arthur looked perplexed'. \"I know not either, but whether or no we have laurel, there are plants enough to make wreaths for the victors at your games.\"\n\n\"And we will give garlands to harpers too,\" Lancelet said. \"Sing, Morgaine.\"\n\n\"I had better sing for you now,\" Morgaine said, \"for I do not suppose, when you men hold your games, you will let women sing.\" She took up the harp and began to play. She was sitting nearly where she had been sitting this afternoon when she saw blood spilled forth on the King's hearth... would it truly come to pass, or was it fantasy? Why, indeed, should she think she still possessed the Sight? It never came upon her now save in these unwelcome trances...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She began to sing an ancient lament which she had heard at Tintagel, a lament of a fisherwoman who had seen the boats swept out to sea. She knew that she held them all with her voice, and in the silence of the hall she fell to singing old songs of the islands, which she had heard at Lot's court: a legend of the seal woman who had come out of the sea to find a mortal lover, songs of the solitary women herders, songs for spinning and for carding flax. Even when her voice grew weary they called for more, but she held up her hand in protest.\n\n\"Enough-no, truly, I can sing no more. I am hoarse as any raven.\"\n\nSoon after, Arthur called the servants to extinguish the torches in the hall and light the guests to bed. It was one of Morgaine's tasks to see that the unmarried women who waited on the Queen were safely put to sleep in the long loft room behind the Queen's own chamber, at the opposite end of the building from the soldiers and armsmen. But she lingered a moment, her eyes on Arthur and Gwenhwyfar, who were bidding Lancelet goodnight.\n\n\"I have told the women to prepare the best spare bed for you, Lancelet,\" said Gwenhwyfar, but he laughed and shook his head.\n\n\"I am a soldier-it is my duty to see horses and men bedded safe for the night before I sleep.\"\n\nArthur chuckled, his arm around Gwenhwyfar's waist. \"We must get you married, Lance, then you will not spend your nights so cold. I made you my captain of horse, but you need not spend your nights lying down among them!\"\n\nGwenhwyfar felt a pain within her breast as she met Lancelet's eyes. It seemed to her that she could almost read his thoughts, that he would say aloud again, as he had said once, My heart is so full of my queen I have no room therefor any other lady.... She held her breath, but Lancelet only sighed and smiled at her, and she thought, No, lama wedded wife, a Christian woman, it is sin even to think such thoughts; I must do penance. And then, feeling her throat so tight she could not swallow, she felt the thought come unbidden. Penance enough that I must be apart from the one I love... and she gasped aloud, so that Arthur turned startled eyes on her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"What is it, love, have you hurt yourself?\"\n\n\"A-a pin pricked me,\" she said, and turned her eyes away, pretending to hunt for the pin at the folds of her dress. She saw Morgaine watching her, and bit her lip. She is always watching me... and she has the Sight; does she know all my sinful thoughts? Is that why she looks on me so scornfully?\n\nYet Morgaine had never shown her anything but a sister's kindness. And when she had been pregnant, in the first year of their marriage-when she had taken a fever and miscarried the child within five months-she could not bear to have any of her ladies about her, and Morgaine had cared for her almost like a mother. Why, now, was she so ungrateful?\n\nLancelet bade them goodnight again, and withdrew. Gwenhwyfar was almost painfully conscious of Arthur's arm around her waist, the frank eagerness in his eyes. Well, they had been apart along time. But she felt a sudden, sharp resentment. Not once, since that time, have I been pregnant-can he not even give me a child?\n\nOh, but surely that washer own fault-one of the midwives had told her it was like a sickness in cattle when they cast their calves unborn, time after time, and sometimes women took that sickness too, so they could not carry a child more than a month or two, three at the most. Somehow, through carelessness, she must have taken that illness, gone perhaps into the dairy at the wrong time, or drunk of milk from a cow who had cast her calf, and so the life of her lord's son and heir had been forfeit, and it was all her doing.... Torn with guilt, she followed Arthur into their chamber." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is more than a jest, Gwen,\" said Arthur, sitting to draw off his leather hose. \"We must get Lancelet married. Have you seen how all the lads run to him, and how good he is with them? He should have sons of his own. I have it, Gwen! We will marry him to Morgaine!\"\n\n\"No!\" The word was torn from her before she thought, and Arthur looked at her, startled.\n\n\"What is the matter with you? Does it not seem perfect, the right choice? My dear sister and my best friend? And their children, mark you, would be next heirs to our throne in any case, if it should be that the Gods send us no children.... No, no, don't cry, my love,\" he begged, and Gwenhwyfar knew, humiliated and shamed, that her face had twisted with weeping. \"I meant not to reproach you, my dearest love, children come when the Goddess wills, but only she knows when we will have children, or if we will ever have them at all. And although Gawaine is dear tome, I have no will to put a son of Lot on the throne if I should die. Morgaine is my own mother's child, and Lancelet my cousin-\"\n\n\"Surely it cannot matter to Lancelet whether or no he has sons,\" said Gwenhwyfar. \"He is fifth-or is it sixth-son to King Ban, and bastard-born at that.\"\n\n\"I never thought to hear you, of all people, reproach my kinsman and dearest friend with his birth,\" Arthur said. \"And he is no ordinary bastard, but son to the grove and the Great Marriage-\"\n\n\"Pagan harlotries! If I were King Ban, I would clean all such sorcerous filth from my kingdom-and so should you!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Arthur shifted uneasily, clambering under the bed cover. \"Lancelet would have little cause to love me if I drove his mother from this kingdom. And I am sworn to honor Avalon, by the sword they gave meat my kingmaking.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar looked at the great sword Excalibur, where it hungover the edge of the bed in its magical scabbard covered with mystical symbols that seemed to shine with pale silver and mock at her. She putout the light and lay down beside Arthur, saying, \"Our Lord Jesus would safeguard you better than any such wicked enchantments. You did not have to do with any of their vile Goddesses and sorcery before you were made King, did you? I know such things were done in Uther's day, but this is a Christian land!\"\n\nArthur shifted uneasily and said, \"There are many folk in this land, the Old People who dwelt here long before Rome came to us-we cannot take their Gods from them. And-what befell before my crowning-well, that touches you not, my Gwenhwyfar.\"\n\n\"Men cannot serve two masters,\" said Gwenhwyfar, surprised at her own daring. \"I would have you altogether a Christian king, my lord.\"\n\n\"I owe allegiance to all my people,\" said Arthur, \"not those alone who follow Christ-\"\n\n\"It seems tome,\" said Gwenhwyfar, \"that those are your enemies, not the Saxons. The true warfare fora Christian king is only against those who do not follow Christ.\"\n\nArthur laughed uneasily at that. \"Now do you sound like the bishop Patricius. He would have us Christianize the Saxons rather than putting them to the sword, so that we may live at peace with them. For my part I am like to the priests who were herein the older days, who were asked to send missionaries to the Saxons-know you what they said, my wife?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No, I have never heard-\"\n\n\"They said, they would send no missionaries to the Saxons, lest they be forced to meet them in peace, even before God's throne.\" Arthur laughed heartily, but Gwenhwyfar did not smile, and after a time he sighed.\n\n\"Well, think on it, my Gwenhwyfar. It seems tome the best possible marriage-my dearest friend and my sister. Then would he be my brother and his sons my heirs....\"\n\nIn the darkness his arms went round her, and he added, \"But now we must strive to make it come to pass that we will need no other heirs, you and I, my love, but those you can give tome.\"\n\n\"God grant it,\" whispered Gwenhwyfar, moving into his arms, and tried to close away everything out of her mind but Arthur, herein her arms.\n\nMORGAINE, lingering after she had seen the women to bed, stood near the. window, restless. Elaine, who shared her bed, murmured to her, \"Come and sleep, Morgaine; it is late, you must be weary.\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"I think it is the moon that has gotten into my blood tonight-I am not sleepy.\" She was unwilling to lie down and close her eyes; even if she had not the Sight, it washer imagination which would torment her. All round her the newly returned men joined with their wives-she thought, with awry smile in the darkness, it is like to Beltane in Avalon... even the soldiers who were not wedded, she was sure, had somehow found women for this night. Everyone, from the King with his wife down to the stablemen, lay in someone's arms tonight, except for the Queen's maidens; Gwenhwyfar thought it her duty to guard their chastity, even as Balan had said. And I am guarded with the Queen's maidens." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet, at Arthur's wedding... that had come to nothing, through no fault of their own. And Lancelet has stayed away from the court as often as he might... no doubt, so that he need not see Gwenhwyfar in Arthur's arms! But he is here now... and like herself, he was alone this night, among soldiers and horsemen, no doubt dreaming of the Queen, of the one woman in the kingdom he could not have. For surely every other woman at court, wedded or maiden, was as willing to have him as she herself. Save for bad fortune at Arthur's wedding, she would have had him; and honorable as he was, if he^ had made her pregnant, he would have married her.\n\nNot that it is likely I would have conceived, with the harm I suffered at Gwydion's birth... but I need not have told him that. And I could have made him happy, even if I could not bear him a son. There was a time he wanted me, before ever he saw Gwenhwyfar, and after too... save for mischance, I would have made him forget her in my arms....\n\nAnd I am not so undesirable as that... when I was singing tonight, many of the knights looked on me with desire....\n\nI could make Lancelet desire me....\n\nElaine said impatiently, \"Will you not come to bed, Morgaine?\"\n\n\"Not yet awhile... I think I will walk a little out of doors,\" said Morgaine, though this was forbidden to the Queen's women, and Elaine shrank back, with that timidity which so exasperated Morgaine. She wondered if Elaine had caught it from the Queen like a fever, or anew fashion in wearing veils.\n\n\"Are you not afraid with all the men encamped about?\" Morgaine laughed. \"Well, think you not I am weary of lying alone?\" But she saw that the jest offended Elaine and said, more gently, \"I am the King's sister. None would touch me against my will. Do you really think me so tempting no man could resist me? I am six-and-twenty, not a dainty young virgin like yourself, Elaine.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine lay down, without undressing, beside Elaine. In the darkness and silence, as she had feared, her imagination-or was it the Sight?-made pictures: Arthur with Gwenhwyfar, men with women all round her throughout the castle, joined in love or simple lust.\n\nAnd Lancelet, was he alone too? Memory attacked her again, more intense than imagination, and she remembered that day, bright sunlight on the Tor, Lancelet's kisses running that first awakening knife-sharp through her body; and the bitterness of regret that she was pledged elsewhere. And then, when Arthur was wedded to Gwenhwyfar, and he had come near to tearing off her clothes and having her therein the stables-he had wanted her then....\n\nNow, sharp as the Sight, the picture came to her mind, Lancelet walking in the courtyard, alone, his face empty with loneliness and frustration... I have not used the Sight nor my own magic to draw him tome in selfish purpose... if came tome unsought....\n\nSilently, moving quietly so as not to waken the younger girl, she freed herself from Elaine's arm, slid gently from the bed. She had taken off only her shoes; she stooped now to draw them on, then silently went from the room, moving as noiselessly as a wraith from Avalon.\n\nIf it is a dream born of my own imagination, if he is not there, I will walk a little in the moonlight to cool my fever and then go back to my bed, there will be no harm done. But the picture persisted in her mind and she knew that Lancelet was there alone, like herself wakeful.\n\nHe too was of Avalon... the sun tides run in his blood too.... Morgaine, slipping quietly out of the door past the drowsing watchman, cast a glance at the sky. The moon, a quarter full, flooded down brightly into the stone-flagged space before the stables. No, not here; around to the side.... Fora moment Morgaine thought, He is not here, it was a dream, it was my own fantasy. She almost turned about to go back to her bed, suddenly flooded with shame; suppose the watchman should come upon her here, and all would know that the King's sister crept about the house after all honest folk were asleep, no doubt bent on harlotries-" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Who is it?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Stand, show yourself!\" The voice was low and harsh; Lancelet's voice. Suddenly, for all her exultation, Morgaine was afraid; her Sight had shown truly, but what now? Lancelet's hand had gone to his sword; he looked very tall and thin in the shadows.\n\n\"Morgaine,\" she said softly, and he let his hand fall from his sword. \"Cousin, is it you?\"\n\nShe came out of the shadows, and his face, keen and troubled, softened as he looked at her.\n\n\"So late? Did you come to seek me-is there trouble within? Arthur-the Queen-\"\n\nEven now he thinks only of the Queen, Morgaine thought, and felt it like a tingling in her fingertips and the calves of her legs, anger and excitement. She said, \"No, all is well-as far as I know. I am not privy to the secrets of the royal bedchamber!\"\n\nHe flushed, just a shadow on his face in the darkness, and looked away from her. She said, \"I could not sleep... how is it you ask me what I am doing here when you yourself are not in your bed? Or has Arthur made you his nightwatchman?\"\n\nShe could sense Lancelet smile. \"No more than you. I was restless when all around me slept-I think perhaps the moon has gotten into my blood.\" It was the same phrase she had used to Elaine, and somehow it struck her as a good omen, a symbol that their minds worked in tune and that they responded one to the call of the other as a silent harp vibrates when a note on another is struck.\n\nLancelet went on, speaking softly into the darkness at her side, \"I am restless these nights, thinking of so many nights of battle-\" \"And you wish yourself back in battle like all soldiers?\" He sighed. \"No. Although perhaps it is unworthy of a soldier to dream early and late of peace.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I do not think so,\" Morgaine said softly." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"For what do you make war, except that peace may come for all our people? If a soldier loves his trade overmuch, then he becomes no more than a weapon for killing. What else brought the Romans to our peaceful isle, but the love of conquest and battle for its own sake?\"\n\nLancelet smiled. \"Your father was one of those Romans, cousin. So was mine.\"\n\n\"Yet I think more of the peaceful Tribes, who wanted no more than to till their barley crops in peace and worship the Goddess. I am of my mother's people-and yours.\"\n\n\"Aye, but those mighty heroes of old we spoke of before-Achilles, Alexander-they all felt war and battle the proper business of a man, and even now, in these islands, it has come to be that all men think of battle first and peace as no more than a quiet and womanly interlude.\" He sighed. \"These are heavy thoughts-it is no wonder sleep is far from us, Morgaine. Tonight I would give all the great weapons ever forged, and all the gallant songs of your Achilles and Alexanders for an apple from the branches of Avalon....\" He turned his head away. Morgaine slipped her hand within his own.\n\n\"So would I, cousin.\"\n\n\"I do not know why I am homesick for Avalon-I did not livelong there,\" Lancelet said, musing. \"And yet I think it is the fairest place on all earth-if indeed it is on this earth at all. The old Druid magic, I think, took it from this world, because it was all too fair for us imperfect men, and must be like a dream of Heaven, impossible...\" He recalled himself with a little laugh. \"My confessor would not like to hear me say these things!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine chuckled, low. \"Have you become a Christian then, Lance?\"\n\n\"Not a good one, I fear,\" he said. \"Yet their faith seems tome so simple and good, I wish I could believe it-they say: believe what you have not seen, profess what you do not know, that is more virtuous than believing what you have seen. Even Jesus, they say, when he rose from the dead, chided a man who would have thrust his hands into the Christ's wounds to see that he was not a ghost or a spirit, for it was more blessed to believe without seeing.\"\n\n\"But we shall all rise again,\" said Morgaine, very low, \"and again and again and again. We do not come once and go to Heaven or their Hell, but live again and again until we are even as the Gods.\"\n\nHe lowered his head. Now that her eyes were accustomed to the dimness of the moonlight, she could see him clearly, the delicate line of temple curving inward at the eye, the long, narrow sweep of the jaw, the soft darkness of his brows and his hair curling over it. Again his beauty made a pain in her heart. He said, \"I had forgotten you were a priestess, and you believe....\"\n\nTheir hands were clasped lightly; she felt his stir within her own and loosed it. \"Sometimes I do not know what I believe. Perhaps I have been too long away from Avalon.\"\n\n\"Nor do I know what I believe,\" he said, \"but I have seen so many men die, and women and little children in this long, long war, it seems that I have been fighting since I grew tall enough to hold a sword. And when I see them die, I think faith is an illusion, and the truth is that we all die as the beasts die, and are no more ever-like grass cut down, and last year's snow.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But these things too return again,\" Morgaine whispered.\n\n\"Do they? Or is this the illusion?\" His voice sounded bitter. \" I think perhaps there is no meaning in any of it-all the talk of Gods and the Goddess are fables to comfort children. Ah, God, Morgaine, why are we talking like this? You should go to your rest, cousin, and so should I-'\n\n\"I will go if you wish it,\" she said, and even as she turned away, happiness surged through her because he reached for her hand.\n\n\"No, no-when I am alone I fall prey to these fancies and wretched doubts, and if they must come I would rather speak them aloud so I can hear what folly they are. Stay with me, Morgaine-\"\n\n\"As long as you wish,\" she whispered, and felt tears in her eyes. She reached out and put her arms around his waist; his strong arms tightened about her, then loosened, remorsefully.\n\n\"You are so little-I had forgotten how little you are-I could break you with my two hands, cousin....\" His hands strayed to her hair, which she had bundled loose under her veil. He stroked it; twined an end of it around his fingers. \"Morgaine, Morgaine, sometimes it seems tome that you are one of the few things in my life which is all good-like one of those old fairy folk they tell of in legends, the elf-woman who comes from the unknown land to speak words of beauty and hope to a mortal, then departs again for the islands of the West and is never seen again-\"\n\n\"But I will not depart,\" she whispered.\n\n\"No.\" Atone side of the flagged yard there was a block where sometimes men sat waiting for their horses; he drew her toward it and said, \"Sit here beside me-\" then hesitated. \"No, this is no place fora lady-\" and started to laugh. \"Nor was the stable that day-do you remember, Morgaine?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I thought you had forgotten, after that devil horse threw you-\"\n\n\"You should not call him devil. He has saved Arthur's life in battle more than once, and Arthur would think him guardian angel instead,\" Lancelet said. \"Ah, that was a day of wretchedness. I would have wronged you, cousin, to take you like that. I have often longed to beg your pardon and hear you grant me forgiveness and say you bore me no malice-\"\n\n\"Malice?\" She looked up at him and felt suddenly dizzied by the rush of intense emotion. \" Malice? Only, perhaps, to those who interrupted us-\n\n\"Is it so?\" His voice was soft. He took her face between his hands and bent, deliberately, laying his lips against hers. Morgaine let herself go soft against him, opening her mouth beneath his lips. He was clean-shaven, in the Roman fashion, and she felt the prickly softness of his face against her cheek, the warm sweetness of his tongue probing her mouth. He drew her closer, almost lifting her from her feet, making a soft murmuring sound. The kiss went on until she finally, reluctantly, had to move her mouth to breathe, and he laughed softly, a sound of wonder.\n\n\"So here we are again... it seems we have been here before... and this time I will cutoff the head of any that interrupts us... but we stand here kissing in the stable yard like serving-man and kitchen wench! What now, Morgaine? Where do we go?\"\n\nShe did not know-there was not anyplace, it seemed, secure for them. She could not take him to her room where she slept with Elaine and four of Gwenhwyfar's maidens, and Lancelet himself had said he preferred to sleep among the soldiers. And something at the back of her mind told her that this was not the way; the King's sister and the King's friend should not go seeking a hayloft. The proper way, if truly they felt this about each other, was to wait until dawn and ask Arthur's permission to marry...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yet in her heart, hidden away so that she need not look at it, she knew that this was not what Lancelet wanted; in a moment of passion he might desire her indeed, but no more. And fora moment of passion, would she entrap him into a lifelong pledge? The way of the tribal festivals was more honest, that man and woman should come together with the sun tides and moon tides in their blood, as the Goddess willed; and only if they wished, later, to share a home and rear children was marriage thought upon. She knew in her heart, too, that she had no real wish to marry Lancelet or any other-even though she felt, for his own sake, and Arthur's, and even for Gwenhwyfar's, it would be best to remove him from the court.\n\nBut that was a fleeting thought. She was dizzy with his closeness, the sound of his heart pounding against her cheek-he wanted her; there was not, now, in his heart, any thought of Gwenhwyfar or anyone but herself.\n\nLet it be with us as the Goddess wills, man and woman-\n\n\"I know,\" she whispered, and caught at his hand. Around behind the stables and the forge there was a path leading to the orchard. The grass was thick and soft and sometimes the women sat thereon a bright afternoon.\n\nLancelet spread his cloak in the grass. Around them was the indefinable scent of green apples and grass, and Morgaine thought, Almost, we might be in Avalon. With that trick he had of catching up her thoughts, he murmured, \"We have found ourselves a corner of Avalon this night-\" and drew her down beside him. He took off her veil, stroking her hair, but he seemed in no haste for more, holding her gently, now and again leaning down to kiss heron cheek or forehead." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"The grass is dry-no dew has fallen." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Like enough there will be rain before morning,\" he murmured, caressing her shoulder and her small hands. She felt his hand, sword-callused and hard, so hard that it startled her to remember he was full four years younger than she was herself. She had heard the story-he had been born when Viviane thought herself well beyond childbearing. His long fingers could encircle her whole hand and conceal it there; he toyed with her fingers, playing with herrings, moving his hand to the breast of her gown, and unlacing it there. She felt dizzied, shaken, passion sweeping through her like the tide surging in and covering a beach, so that she went under and drowned in his kisses. He murmured something that she could not hear, but she did not ask what he had said, she was beyond listening to words.\n\nHe had to help her out of her gown. The dresses worn at court were more elaborate than the simple robes she had worn as a priestess, and she felt clumsy, awkward. Would he like her? Her breasts seemed so soft and limp, they had been so since Gwydion's birth; she remembered how they had been when he first touched her, tiny and hard.\n\nBut he seemed to notice nothing, fondling her breasts, taking the nipples between his fingers and then, gently, between his lips and his teeth. Then she lost thought altogether, nothing existing in the world for her except his hands touching her, the pulse of awareness in her own fingers running down the smoothness of his shoulders, his back, the fine dark softness of the hair there... somehow she had thought the hair on a man's chest would be wiry and coarse, but it was not so with him, it was soft and silky as her own hair, curling so fine and close. Ina daze she remembered that the first time for her had been with a youth no more than seventeen who scarce knew what he was about, so that she had had to guide him, to show him what to do... and for her that had been the only time, so that she came almost virgin to Lancelet.... Ina rush of grief she wished that for her it was the first time, so that it might have been so blissful for her to remember; it should have been like this, this was how it should have been.... She moved her body against his, clinging in entreaty, moaning, she could not bear, now, to wait any longer...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It seemed he was not yet ready, though she was all alive to him, her body flowing with the pulse of life and desire in her. She moved against him, hungry, her mouth avid, entreating. She whispered his name, begging now, almost afraid. He went on kissing her gently, his hands moving to stroke and soothe her, but she did not want to be soothed now, her body was crying out for completion, it was starvation, agony. She tried to speak, to beg him, but it came out a sobbing whimper.\n\nHe held her gently against him, still stroking her. \"Hush, no, hush, Morgaine, wait, no more now-I do not want to hurt or dishonor you, never think that-here, lie hereby me, let me hold you, I will content you...\" and in despair and confusion she let him do what he would, but even while her body cried out for the pleasure he gave her, a curious anger was growing. What of the flow of life between their two bodies, male and female, the tides of the Goddess rising and compelling them? Somehow it seemed to her that he was stemming that tide, that he was making her love for him a mockery and a game, a pretense. And he did not seem to mind, it seemed to him that this was the way it should be, so that they were both pleasured... as if nothing mattered but their bodies, that there was no greater joining with all of life. To the priestess, reared in Avalon and attuned to the greater tides of life and eternity, this careful, sensuous, deliberate lovemaking seemed almost blasphemy, a refusal to give themselves up to the will of the Goddess.\n\nAnd then, in the depths of mingled pleasure and humiliation she began to excuse him. He had not been reared as she was in Avalon, but thrown about from fosterage to court to military camp; he had been a soldier almost as long as he had been old enough to lift a sword, his life had been spent in the field, perhaps he did not know, or perhaps he was accustomed only to such women as would give him no more than a moment's ease for his body, or such women as wanted to toy with love-making and give nothing... he had said, I do not want to hurt or dishonor you, as if he truly believed there could be something wrong or dishonorable in this coming together. Spent, now, he was turned a little away from her, but he was still touching her, toying with her, drawing his fingers through the fine hair at her thighs, kissing her neck and breasts. She closed her eyes, holding herself to him, angry and desolate-well, well, perhaps it was no more than she deserved, she had played the harlot incoming to him like this, perhaps it was no more than her due that he should treat her as one... and she was so besotted that she had let him take her like this, she would have let him do whatever he would, knowing that if she asked for more she would lose even this, and she longed for him, she still hungered for him with an intolerable ache that would never be wholly slaked. And he wanted her not at all... still in his heart he hungered for Gwenhwyfar, or for some woman he could have without giving more of himself than this empty touching of skins... a woman who could be content to give herself and ask nothing more of him than pleasure. Through the ache and hunger of her love, a faint strain of contempt was threading, and it was the greatest agony of all-that she loved him no less, that she knew she would love him always, no less than at this moment of hunger and despair." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She sat up, drawing her gown toward her, fastening it over her shoulders with shaking fingers. He sat silent, watching her, stretching out his hands to help her adjust it. After along time he said sorrowfully, \"We have done wrong, my Morgaine, you and I. Are you angry with me?\"\n\nShe could not speak; her throat was too tight with pain. At last she said, straining her voice to form the words, \"No, not angry,\" and she knew that she should raise her voice and scream at him, demand what he could not give her-nor any woman, perhaps.\n\n\"You are my cousin, my kinswoman-but there is no harm done-\" he said, and his voice was shaking. \"At least I have not that to blame myself-that I could bring you to dishonor before all the court-I would not do so for the world-believe me, cousin, I love you well-\"\n\nShe could not keep back her sobs now. \"Lancelet, I beg you, in the name of the Goddess, speak not so-what harm is done? It was in the way of the Goddess, what we both desired-\"\n\nHe made a gesture of distress. \"You speak so, of the Goddess and such heathen things.... Almost you frighten me, kinswoman, when I would keep myself from sin, and yet I have looked on you with lust and wickedness, knowing it was wrong.\" He drew on his clothes with trembling hands. At last he said, almost choking, \"The sin seems tome more deadly, I suppose, than it is-I would you were not so like to my mother, Morgaine-\"\n\nIt was like a blow in the face, like a cruel and treacherous blow. Fora moment she could not speak. Then, for an instant, it seemed that the full rage of the Goddess angered possessed her and she felt herself rising, towering, she knew it was the glamour of the Goddess coming upon her as it had done in the Avalon barge; she felt herself, small and insignificant as she was, looming over him, and saw the powerful knight, the captain of the King's horse, shrink away small and frightened, as all men are small in the sight of the Goddess." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You are-you area contemptible fool, Lancelet,\" she said. \"You are not even worth cursing!\" She turned and fled from him, leaving him sitting therewith his breeches half-fastened, staring after her in astonishment and shame. She felt her heart pounding. Half of her had wanted to scream at him, shrewish as a skua gull; the other half wanted to breakdown and weep in agony, in despair, begging for the deeper love he had denied her and rejected, refusing the Goddess in her.... Fragments of thought flickered in her mind, an old tale of the Goddess surprised and refused by a man and how the Goddess had had him torn to shreds by the hounds who ran hunting with her... and there was sorrow that she had what she had dreamed of all these long years and it was dust and ashes to her.\n\nA priest would say this was the wages of sin. I heard such, often enough, from Igraine's house priest before I went to be fostered in Avalon. At heart am I more of a Christian than I know? And again it seemed to her that her heart must break from the wreck and disaster of her love.\n\nIn Avalon this could never have come to pass-those who came to the Goddess in this way would never have so refused her power.... She paced up and down, a raging fire unslaked in her veins, knowing that no one could possibly understand how she felt except for another priestess of the Goddess. Viviane, she thought with longing, Viviane would understand, or Raven, or any of us reared in the House of Maidens... what have I been doing all these long years, away from my Goddess?\n\nMORGAINE SPEAKS...\n\nThree days later I got leave from Arthur to depart from his court and ride to Avalon; I said only that I was homesick for the Isle and for Viviane, my foster-mother. And in those days I had no speech with Lancelet save for the small courtesies of everyday when we could not avoid meeting. Even in those I marked that he would not meet my eyes, and I felt angry and shamed, and went out of my way that I might not come face to face with him at all." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "So I took horse, and rode eastward through the hills; nor did I return to Caerleon for many years, nor knew I anything of what befell in Arthur's court... but that is a tale for another time.\n\nIn the summer of the next year, the Saxons were massing off the coast, and Arthur and his men spent all the year in gathering an army for the battle they knew must come. Arthur led his men into battle and drove the Saxons back, but it was not the decisive battle and victory for which he had hoped; they were damaged indeed, and it would take them more than a year to recover, but he had not enough horses and men to defeat them firmly and for all time, as he hoped to do. At this battle he took a wound, which seemed not serious; but it festered and inflamed and he had to spend much of the autumn bedfast-the first snow flurries were coming over the walls of Caerleon before he could walk a little about the courtyard, leaning on a stick, and he would bear the scars to his grave.\n\n\"It will be full spring before I can sit a horse again,\" he observed gloomily to Gwenhwyfar, who stood close to the courtyard wall, her blue cloak wrapped tight around her.\n\n\"It may well be,\" Lancelet said, \"and longer, my dear lord, if you take cold in your wound before it is full healed. Come within doors, I beg you-look, there is snow on Gwenhwyfar's cloak.\"\n\n\"And in your beard, Lance-or is that only the first grey?\" Arthur asked, teasing, and Lancelet laughed.\n\n\"Both, I suppose-there you have the advantage of me, my king, your beard is so fair the grey will not show when it conies. Here, lean on my arm.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Arthur would have waved him away, but Gwenhwyfar said, \"No, take his arm, Arthur, you will undo all our fine leechcraft if you fall-and the stones are slippery underfoot, with this snow melting as it comes down.\"\n\nArthur sighed and leaned on his friend's arm. \"Now have I had a taste of what it must be like to be old.\" Gwenhwyfar came and took his other arm, and he laughed. \"Will you love me and uphold me like this when indeed there is grey in my beard and hair and when I goon a stick like the Merlin?\"\n\n\"Even when you are ninety, my lord,\" said Lancelet, laughing with him. \"I can see it well, Gwenhwyfar holding you by one arm and I by the other as our ancient steps totter toward your throne-we will all be ninety or thereabout!\" Abruptly he sobered. \"I am troubled about Taliesin, my lord, he grows feeble and his eyes are failing. Should he not go back to Avalon and rest his last years in peace?\"\n\n\"No doubt he should,\" said Arthur. \"But he says he will not leave me alone, with only the priests for councillors-\"\n\n\"What better councillors than the priests could you have, my lord?\" Gwenhwyfar flared. She resented the unearthly word Avalon; it frightened her to think that Arthur was sworn to protect their heathenish ways.\n\nThey came into the hall where afire was burning, and Arthur made a gesture of annoyance as Lancelet eased him into his chair. \"Aye, set the old man by the fire and give him his posset-I marvel that you let me wear shoes and hose instead of a bedgown!\"\n\n\"My dear lord-\" Gwenhwyfar began, but Lancelet laid a hand on her shoulder." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Don't fret yourself, kinswoman, all men are so, peevish when they are ill-he knows not when he is well off, being nursed by fair women and tended with dainty foods and clean linen and those possets he scorns.... I have lain with a wound in afield camp, nursed by a sour old man too lame to fight, and lying in my own shit because I could not shift myself and no one came near to help me, with nothing brought but some sour beer and hard bread to soak in it. Stop grumbling, Arthur, or I shall try to see to it that you nurse your wound in manly fashion as befits a true soldier!\"\n\n\"Aye, and he would do it, too,\" said Arthur, with an affectionate smile at his friend. \"You go not in much fear of your king, Prince Galahad-\" He took the horn spoon from his wife's hand and began to eat the concoction of warmed wine with bread and honey soaked in it. \"Aye, this is good and warming-it has spices in it, has it not, those same spices you bade me send for from Londinium....\"\n\nCai came to them, when Arthur had finished, and said, \"So, how goes the wound after an hour of walking on it, my lord? Is there still much pain?\"\n\n\"Not as much as the last time, and that is all I can say,\" Arthur said. \"It is the first time I have known what real fear was, fear I might die with my work still undone.\"\n\n\"God would not have it so,\" Gwenhwyfar said.\n\nArthur patted her hand. \"I told myself that, but a voice within kept saying tome that this was the great sin of pride, fearing that I or any man could not be spared from what God wishes to be done-I have thought long about such things while I lay unable to set foot to the ground.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I cannot see that you have so much undone, save for the final victory over the Saxons, my lord,\" said Cai, \"but now you must go to your bed, you are weary with the out of doors.\"\n\nWhen Arthur was stretched out on the bed, Cai took his clothes away and examined the great wound which still, faintly, oozed matter through the cloths. Cai said, \"I will send for the women, and you must have hot cloths on this again-you have strained it. It is well you did not break it open while you were walking.\" When the women had brought steaming kettles and mixed the compresses of herbs and hot water, laying folded cloths upon the wound so hot that Arthur winced and roared, Cai said, \"Aye, but you were lucky even so, Arthur. Had that sword struck you a hand span to one side, Gwenhwyfar would have even more cause to grieve, and you would be known far and wide as the gelded king... as in that old legend! Know you not the tale-the king wounded in the thigh and as his powers fade, so fades the land and withers, till some youth comes who can make it spring fertile anew....\"\n\nGwenhwyfar shuddered, and Arthur said testily, shifting in pain under the heat of the compress, \"This is no tale to tell a wounded man!\"\n\n\"I should think it would make you more aware of your good fortune, that your land will not wither and be sterile,\" Cai said. \"By Easter, I daresay, the Queen's womb could be quick again, if you are fortunate-\"\n\n\"God grant it,\" Arthur said, but the woman winced and turned away. Once again she had conceived, and once again all had gone awry, so quickly that she had scarce known she had been with child-would it be so always with her? Was she barren, was it the punishment of God on her that she did not strive early and late to bring her husband to be a better Christian?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One of the women took away the cloth and would have replaced it; Arthur reached for Gwenhwyfar. \"No, let my lady do it, her hands are gentler-\" he said, and Gwenhwyfar took the steaming hot cloth-so hot it was she burned her fingers, but she welcomed the pain as penance. It washer fault, all her fault; he should put her away as barren, and take a wife who could give him a child. It was wrong that he should ever have married her-she had been eighteen, and already past her most fruitful years. Perhaps...\n\nIf only Morgaine were here, I would indeed beseech her for that charm which could make me fruitful....\n\n\"It seems tome now that we have need of Morgaine's leechcraft,\" she said. \"Arthur's wound goes not as it should, and she is a notable mistress of healing arts, as is the Lady of Avalon herself. Why do we not send to Avalon and beseech one of them to come?\"\n\nCai frowned at her and said, \"I do not see that there is need of that. Arthur's wound goes on well enough-I have seen much worse come to full healing.\"\n\n\"Still, I would be glad to see my good sister,\" said Arthur, \"or my friend and benefactor, the Lady of the Lake. But from what Morgaine has told me, I do not think I will see them together....\"\n\nLancelet said, \"I will send a message to Avalon and beg my mother to come, if you will have it, Arthur,\" but it was at Gwenhwyfar he looked, and their eyes met fora moment. In these months of Arthur's illness, it seemed he had been ever at her side, and such a rock of strength to her that she knew not what she would have done without him; in those first days, when none believed that Arthur could live, he had watched with her, tireless, his love for Arthur making her ashamed of her thoughts. He is Arthur's cousin, even as Gawaine, he stands as near to the throne, the son of Igraine's own sister; if aught came to Arthur, then would he be as much a king as we have need of... in the old days the king was naught but the husband of the queen...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Shall we send, then, for the Lady Viviane?\" Gwenhwyfar asked.\n\n\"Only if you have a wish to seethe Lady,\" said Arthur, with a sigh. \"I think now, all I need is a greater share of that patience to which the bishop counselled me when I spoke last with him. God was good tome indeed, that I lay not thus disabled when the Saxons first came, and if he goes on showing me his grace, I will be able to ride when they come again. Gawaine is off gathering the men to the north, is he not, for Lot and Pellinore?\"\n\n\"Aye.\" Lancelet laughed. \"He has told Pellinore that his dragon must wait till we have dealt with the white horse... he must bring all his men and come when we summon him. And Lot will come too, though he grows old-he will not let pass any chance that the kingdom might still go to his sons.\"\n\nIt will go to his sons indeed, if I give Arthur no son, Gwenhwyfar thought; it seemed that every word anyone spoke, of whatever matter, was an arrow, a taunt aimed into her heart for failing the first duty of a queen. Arthur liked her well, they could have been happy, could she only have felt free for one moment of the guilt of her childlessness. Almost, fora time, she had welcomed this wound, for he could not think of lying with any woman, and there was no reproach to her; she could care for him and cosset him, have him to herself as a wife could so seldom do when her husband belonged not to her but to a kingdom. She could love him, and not think always of her guilt; when he touched her, think of their love, not only of her fear and her desperate hope, This time will heat last get me with child; and if he does, will it go well with me or will I cast forth the precious hope of the kingdom? She had cared for him, nursed him night and day as a mother nurses a sickly child, and when he began to grow strong she had sat beside him, talked to him, sung to him-though she had not Morgaine's sweet voice for singing-gone herself to the kitchens and cooked for him such things as a sick man might be tempted to eat, so that he would put on flesh after the ghastly sickness and wasting away of the early summer." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Yet what good is all my care if I do not ensure that there will bean heir to his kingdom?\n\n\"I would that Kevin were here,\" Arthur said. \"I would like to hear some music-or Morgaine; we have no fitting minstrels at court now!\"\n\n\"Kevin has gone back to Avalon,\" Lancelet said. \"The Merlin told me he had gone for some priestly doings there, so secret he could tell me no more-I wonder the priests allow these Druid mysteries to goon in a Christian land.\"\n\nArthur shrugged. \"I command no man's conscience, King or no.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar said sternly, \"God will be worshipped as he wills, Arthur, not as men choose, and therefore he sent the Christ to us.\"\n\n\"But he sent him not to this land,\" Arthur said, \"and when the holy Joseph came to Glastonbury, and thrust his staff therein the earth and it bloomed, then the Druids welcomed him and he did not scorn to share their worship.\"\n\n\"Bishop Patricius says that is an evil and heretical tale,\" Gwenhwyfar insisted, \"and the priests who worship in common with the Druids should be stripped of their priesthood and driven forth as he drove the Druids themselves!\"\n\n\"He will not do it during my time,\" said Arthur firmly. \"I have sworn my protection to Avalon.\" He smiled and stretched out his hand to where the great sword Excalibur hung in its crimson-velvet scabbard. \"And you have reason to be grateful for that magic, Gwenhwyfar-had I not had this scabbard about me, nothing could have saved me. Even as it was, I came near to bleeding to death, and only its magic stanched the bleeding. Would I not be worse than an ingrate if I betrayed their goodwill?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You believe that?\" Gwenhwyfar asked. \"You would put magic and sorceries above God's will?\"\n\n\"Why, sweetheart,\" Arthur said, and touched her fair hair, \"do you believe that anything man can do is in despite of God's will? If this scabbard kept me indeed from bleeding to death, then it could not have been God's will that I should die. It seems tome that my faith is closer to God than yours, if you fear that some wizard could undo what God wishes. We are all in God's hands.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar looked quickly at Lancelet; there was a smile on his face, and it seemed fora moment that he was mocking them, but it passed and the woman thought it must have been no more than a little shadow. \"Well, if you wish for music, Arthur, Taliesin will come and play for you, I suppose; though he grows old and his voice is nothing for singing, his hands still have great skill at harping.\"\n\n\"Call for him, then,\" said Arthur, and laughed. \"In Scripture we are told that the old King Saul called for his young harper to play and ease his mind, but here I am, a young king who has need of his old harper to play and cheer his soul!\"\n\nLancelet went in search of the Merlin, and when he came with his harp, they sat fora longtime in the hall listening to the music.\n\nGwenhwyfar thought of Morgaine, playing there. Would that she were here, to give me a charm-but not before my lord recovers... and then, looking across the fire at Lancelet, she felt sinking in her body. He sat on a bench, leaning back and listening to the music, his hands tucked behind his head, his long legs stretched out to the fire. The other men and women had gathered close to listen to the music; Elaine, Pellinore's daughter, had been bold enough to come and crowd onto the bench beside Lancelet, but he sat without paying any heed to her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet would be the better fora wife. I should bestir myself and write to King Pellinore, that he should give Elaine to Lancelet; she is my cousin and not unlike me, she is marriageable-but she knew she would not; she told herself it would be time enough for that on the day Lancelet told them that he was seeking to be wedded.\n\nIf Arthur should not recover...\n\nOh, no, no, never will I think of that.... She crossed herself in secret. But, she thought, it was long since she had been in Arthur's arms, and it was likely he could not give her a child anyway.... She found herself wondering what it would be like to lie with Lancelet-could he give her the child she wished for? Suppose she took Lancelet as lover? She knew there were women who did such things... Morgause now made no secret of it; now that she was past childbearing, her harlotries were as scandalous as Lot's wenching. She felt the color creeping up in her cheeks and hoped no one had seen as she looked at Lancelet's hands lying quiet in his lap and wondered what it would be like to feel them caressing her-no, she dared not think of that.\n\nWhen women took lovers they must take care not to be made pregnant, not to bear a child who could disgrace them or bring shame on their husbands, so if she was barren then it would not matter... it would be her good fortune.... In God's name, how could she, a chaste and Christian woman, have such evil thoughts? Once before she had thought this, and when she told it in confession, the priest had said only that it was no more than reason that with her husband so long sick, her thoughts should turn to such things; she must not feel guilty, but pray much and care for her husband and think only that it was harder still for him. And Gwenhwyfar had known that this was good and sensible and kindly counsel, but she felt he had not understood it in full, just how sinful a woman she was and how evil and foul her thoughts. Otherwise, surely, he would have berated her, and given her heavy penance, and then she would have felt better and more free...." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Help keep the tale going for the author.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 5" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet would be the better fora wife. I should bestir myself and write to King Pellinore, that he should give Elaine to Lancelet; she is my cousin and not unlike me, she is marriageable-but she knew she would not; she told herself it would be time enough for that on the day Lancelet told them that he was seeking to be wedded.\n\nIf Arthur should not recover...\n\nOh, no, no, never will I think of that.... She crossed herself in secret. But, she thought, it was long since she had been in Arthur's arms, and it was likely he could not give her a child anyway.... She found herself wondering what it would be like to lie with Lancelet-could he give her the child she wished for? Suppose she took Lancelet as lover? She knew there were women who did such things... Morgause now made no secret of it; now that she was past childbearing, her harlotries were as scandalous as Lot's wenching. She felt the color creeping up in her cheeks and hoped no one had seen as she looked at Lancelet's hands lying quiet in his lap and wondered what it would be like to feel them caressing her-no, she dared not think of that.\n\nWhen women took lovers they must take care not to be made pregnant, not to bear a child who could disgrace them or bring shame on their husbands, so if she was barren then it would not matter... it would be her good fortune.... In God's name, how could she, a chaste and Christian woman, have such evil thoughts? Once before she had thought this, and when she told it in confession, the priest had said only that it was no more than reason that with her husband so long sick, her thoughts should turn to such things; she must not feel guilty, but pray much and care for her husband and think only that it was harder still for him. And Gwenhwyfar had known that this was good and sensible and kindly counsel, but she felt he had not understood it in full, just how sinful a woman she was and how evil and foul her thoughts. Otherwise, surely, he would have berated her, and given her heavy penance, and then she would have felt better and more free...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet would never reproach her that she was barren-\n\nShe became aware that someone had spoken her name, and raised her head in confusion as if her thoughts were open to all.\n\n\"No, no more music, my lord Merlin,\" Arthur said. \"Look, it grows dark, and my lady is asleep where she sits. She is worn outwith nursing me, most likely.... Cai, have the men set the dinner, but I will go to my bed and have some meat there.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar rose, went to Elaine, and asked her to take her place in the hall; she would stay with her lord. Cai went to see to the servants, and Lancelet stayed to give Arthur a hand as he limped, with the help of his stick, to his chamber. Lancelet helped to settle Arthur in bed as tenderly as any nurse.\n\n\"If he needs anything in the night, see that you have them call for me, you know where I sleep,\" he said low, to Gwenhwyfar. \"I can lift him more easily than any other-\"\n\n\"Oh, no, no, I think there will be no need now,\" she said, \"but I thank\" you.\n\nHe was so tall as he stood next her; he laid his hand gently on her cheek. \"If you want to go and sleep among your women, I will stay and watch with him-you look as if you were wanting along night of unbroken sleep. You are like a nursing mother who has no rest till her babe can sleep through the night without stirring. I can care for Arthur-there is no need for you to watch with him now! I can stay in the room within earshot.\"\n\n\"You are so good tome,\" she said, \"but I would rather be near him.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But send for me if he needs me. Do not try to lift him yourself,\" Lancelet said, \"promise me, Gwenhwyfar.\"\n\nHow sweet her name sounded on his lips; sweeter than when he said my queen or my lady.... \"I promise you, my friend.\"\n\nHe bent, gave her just the flicker of alight kiss on her forehead. \"You look so overwearied,\" he said. \"Go you to bed and sleep well.\" His hand lingered still a moment on her cheek and when he took it away she felt as if her cheek would be cold and ache as if she had a toothache there. She went and laid herself down beside Arthur.\n\nFora time she thought he slept. But at last he said into the darkness, \"He has been a good friend to us, has he not, my wife?\"\n\n\"No brother could have been kinder.\"\n\n\"Cai and I were reared as brothers, and I love him well, but it is true what they say, blood is thicker than water, and blood kin brings a closeness I had not imagined till I came to know some of my own blood....\" Arthur shifted in bed, uneasily, sighing. \"Gwenhwyfar, there is something I would say to you-\"\n\nShe was frightened, her heart pounding-had he seen Lancelet kiss her, would he charge her with unfaithfulness?\n\nHe said, \"Promise me that you will not weep again, I cannot bear it. I swear it to you, I have no thought of reproaching you-but we have been wedded now for many years, and only twice in that time have you had even the hope of a child-no, no, I beg you, do not cry, let me speak,\" he pleaded. \"It maybe that it is not your fault, but mine. I have had other women, as do all men. But though I never made any attempt to conceal who I was, not in all these years has any woman come tome, nor her kinfolk, and said, such and such a woman bore you a bastard child. It maybe that it is I whose seed has no life, so that when you conceive, the child comes not even to quickening....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She lowered her head, letting the curtain of her hair hide her face. Did he reproach himself as well?\n\n\"My Gwenhwyfar, listen tome-a child there must be for this kingdom. If it should come about at anytime that you give a child to the throne, be assured that I will never question. So far as I am concerned, any child you bear, I will acknowledge it mine and bring it up as my heir.\"\n\nShe thought that the burning in her face would make her burst into flame. Could he think her capable of betraying him? \"Never, never could I do so, my lord and my king-\"\n\n\"You know the ways of Avalon-no, my wife, do not interrupt me, let me speak-where when a man and woman come together in this wise, the child is said even to be born of the God. Gwenhwyfar, I would like it well if God sent us a child, whoever should work God's will in fathering him-do you understand me? And if it should so happen that the one whoso did the will of heaven were my dearest of friends and the closest of kinsmen tome, then would I bless him, and the child you bore. No, no, do not weep, I will say no more,\" he said, sighing, reaching out his arms to her, letting her lie against his shoulder. \"I am not worthy that you should love me so well.\"\n\nAfter a time he slept, but Gwenhwyfar lay awake, tears rolling down her face. Oh, no, she thought, my dear love, my dearest lord, it is I who am not worthy of your love, and now you have all but given me leave that I should betray you. Suddenly and for the first time in her life she envied both Arthur and Lancelet. They were men, they lived lives of activity, they must go out into the world and risk death or worse in battle, but men were free of these terrifying decisions. Whatever thing she did, whenever she made any decision, however small, if it was of more weight than kid or dried beef for dinner, then was that weight on her soul, that from what she should decide the fate of kingdoms could rest. Now it washer own choice, and not simply the will of God, that she should give an heir to the kingdom or no; one who was of Uther Pendragon's blood or-or otherwise. How could she, a woman, make that decision? Gwenhwyfar pulled the fur coverlet over her head and curled herself into a ball and lay there." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Only this evening she had sat there and watched Lancelet listening to the harper, and the thought had come stealing into her mind." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She had loved him long, but now she began to know it was that she desired him; in her heart she was no better than Morgause, who played the whore when she would, with her husband's knights and even, the story was whispered in scandal, with handsome pages or servant men. Arthur was so good, and she had come to love him well; she had found safety herein Caerleon. It was not to be borne that the folk about the castle and countryside might come to whisper scandal of her as they did of Morgause.\n\nGwenhwyfar wished to be good, to keep her soul clean and her virtue whole, but also it meant much to her that people should see her virtue and think of her as a good and spotless queen; she herself knew nothing evil of Morgaine, for instance, she had lived at her side for three years, and Morgaine was, so far as she knew, as virtuous as herself. Yet it was rumored that Morgaine was a witch because she had lived in Avalon, and had some wisdom and knowledge of healing herbs and of sendings, and so the people of the court and of the country roundabout had whispered that Morgaine was in league with the fairy folk or the Devil; and even she herself, knowing Morgaine as she did, sometimes wondered how what so many people said could be all untrue.\n\nAnd tomorrow she must face Lancelet and go about her work by Arthur's side, knowing that he had all but given her leave-how could she ever again look into Lancelet's eyes? He was of the blood of Avalon, he was son to the Lady of the Lake, it could be that he too could read thoughts a little, that he could see into her eyes and know what she was thinking.\n\nAnd then anger, so violent that it frightened her, swept through her trembling body like a flood. Gwenhwyfar, lying there angry and afraid, thought that she would never dare to go out of doors again for fear of what she might choose to do. Every woman in the court wanted Lancelet-yes, even Morgaine herself; she had seen her sister-in-law looking at him, and for that reason, when once along time ago Arthur had said they should marry, she had been distressed-Lancelet would surely find Morgaine too bold. And perhaps they had quarrelled, for the last day or two before Morgaine had departed for Avalon, she noted that they spoke less to each other than usual, and did not turn their eyes to each other." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She missed Morgaine, yes..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "but all in all she was glad Morgaine was not at court, and she would not send to Tintagel to hear news of her if she was there. She fancied herself repeating to Morgaine what Arthur had just said; she would die of shame, and yet she suspected that Morgaine would laugh at her: Morgaine would surely say it was for her to choose whether or no she would take Lancelet as a lover; or perhaps, even, that it was for Lancelet to say.\n\nThen it was as if a burning flame passed through her, like the fires of hell, that she might offer herself to Lancelet and he might say to her no. Then, surely, she would die of shame. She did not know how she could ever bear to look at Lancelet again, or at Arthur, or at any of her ladies who had never been so tempted. Even to the priests she would think it shame to speak about this, for they would know Arthur was less a Christian than he ought to be. How could she ever bear to go out of doors again, or to leave the safe, protected space of this very room and this very bed? Here, nothing wrong could come to her or harm her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She did feel somewhat ill. Tomorrow she would tell her ladies that, and they would think only, as Lancelet would think, that she was overwearied with nursing Arthur night and day. She would continue to be, as she was always, a good and virtuous queen and a Christian woman-she could never even think of being anything else. Arthur was distressed from his wound and his long inactivity, that was all; when he was well and sound he could never think such a thing, and no doubt he would be grateful to her that she had not listened to his folly and had saved them both from a fearful sin.\n\nBut just as she was about to drop into an exhausted sleep, she remembered something that one of her women had said, long ago-it was a few days before Morgaine left the court. She had said that Morgaine should give her a charm.... Well, and so she should; if Morgaine enchanted her so that she had no choice but to love Lancelet, then she would be freed of that fearful choice.... When Morgaine returns, she thought, I will speak of it to her. But Morgaine had not been at court now for almost two years, and it might be that she would never return.\n\nI grow too old for these journeys, Viviane thought as she rode through the late-winter rain, head bowed, her cloak wrapped tight around her body. And then resentment surged through her: This should now be Morgaine's task, it is she who was to be Lady after me in Avalon.\n\nTaliesin had told her, four years ago now, that Morgaine had been in Caerleon for Arthur's wedding, and had been given to Gwenhwyfar for one of her ladies, and had tarried there. The Lady of the Lake, waiting-woman to a queen? How dared Morgaine forsake her true and appointed path in this way? And yet when she had sent a message to Caerleon with word that Morgaine should return to Avalon, the messenger had returned to say that Morgaine had left the court... they thought for Avalon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But she is not in Avalon. Nor is she in Tintagel with Igraine, nor yet at the court of Lot in Orkney. Where then has she gone?\n\nSome harm could have come to heron one of her solitary journeys. She might have been captured by one of the marauders or masterless men who throng the country-she might have lost her memory or have been raped, murdered, flung into a ditch somewhere and her bones never been found.... Oh no, Viviane thought, if harm had come to her, I would surely have seen it in the mirror... or with the Sight....\n\nYet she could not be certain. The Sight was erratic in her now, and often when she sought to see beyond, nothing came but a maddening grey fog before her eyes, the veil of the unknown which she dared not try to pierce. And Morgaine's fate was concealed somewhere within that veil.\n\nGoddess, she prayed as she had done so often before, Mother, I have given you my life, bring back my child tome while I yet live... but even as she spoke, she knew that there would be no answer, only grey rain like the veil of the unknown, the answer of the Goddess hidden in the unyielding sky.\n\nHad it wearied her so much as this when last she made this journey, half a year ago? It seemed now to her that she had always ridden, before this, as lightly as a girl, and now the jolting of her donkey seemed to rattle every bone in her thin body, while the cold crept into her and gnawed at her with little icy teeth.\n\nOne of her escort turned back and said, \"Lady, I can seethe farmstead below. We will be there before nightfall, it seems.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Viviane thanked the man, trying not to sound as grateful as she felt. She could not betray weakness before her escort.\n\nGawan met her in the narrow barnyard as she was dismounting from her donkey, steadying her so that she did not step into the midden. \"Welcome, Lady,\" he said, \"as always, it is my pleasure to see you. My son Balin and your son will be herewith the morrow-I sent to Caerleon that they might be here.\"\n\n\"Is it as grave as that, old friend?\" Viviane asked, and Gawan nodded. He said, \"You will scarcely know her, Lady. She is fallen away to nothing now, and if she eats or drinks ever so little, she says it is as if afire were lighted in her vitals. It cannot be much longer now, for all your medicines.\"\n\nViviane nodded and sighed. \"I feared as much,\" she said. \"When this illness once has hold on anyone, it never lets loose its claw. Perhaps I can give her some ease.\"\n\n\"God grant it,\" said Gawan, \"for the medicines you left us when you were last here do little now. She wakes and cries in the night like a little child, when she thinks the serving-women and I do not hear. I have not even the heart to pray that she shall be spared to us for anymore suffering, Lady.\"\n\nViviane sighed again. When last she had come this way, half a year ago, she had left her strongest drugs and medicines, and she had half wished that Priscilla might take a fever in the autumn and die quickly, before the medicines lost their effect. There was little more that she could do. She let Gawan lead her into the house, seat her before the fire, and the serving-woman dished her up a hot bowl of soup from a kettle near the fire." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"You have been riding long in the rain, Lady,\" he said." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Sit and rest, and you shall see my wife after the evening meal-sometimes she sleeps a little at this time of day.\"\n\n\"If she can rest even a little, it is blessed, and I shall not disturb her,\" Viviane said, folding her chilled hands around the soup bowl, and letting herself slump down on the backless bench. One of the serving-women drew off her boots and cloak, another came with a warmed towel to dry her feet, and Viviane, turning her skirts back so that her bony knees felt the fire, rested fora moment in mindless comfort, forgetting her grim errand. Then a thin wailing cry was heard from an inner room, and the serving-woman started and trembled. She said to Viviane, \"It is the mistress, poor thing-she must be awake. I hoped she would sleep till we had set the night meal. I must go to her.\"\n\n\"I will come too,\" said Viviane, and followed the woman to the inner chamber. Gawan was seated by the fire, and she saw the look of dread on his face as that thin cry died away.\n\nAlways before, since Priscilla had fallen ill, Viviane had found some trace in the woman of her old buxom prettiness, some resemblance to the jolly young woman who had fostered her son Balan. Now face and lips and faded hair were all the same yellowed grey, and even the blue eyes seemed faded, as if the sickness had leached all the color from the woman. When last she had come, too, Priscilla had been up and about apart of everyday; now she could see that this woman had been bedfast for months... half a year had made this much change. And always before, Viviane's medicines and herb potions had given ease and comfort and partial recovery. Now, she knew, it was too late for any further help." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Fora moment the faded eyes drifted unfocused around the room, the lips moving faintly over the fallen-in jaw." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then Priscilla saw Viviane, blinked a little, and said in a whisper, \"Is it you, Lady?\"\n\nViviane went to her side and carefully took her withered hand. She said, \"I am sorry to see you so ill. How is it with you, my dear friend?\"\n\nThe faded, cracked lips drew back in a grimace which Viviane, fora moment, thought to be a movement of pain; then she realized it was meant fora smile. \"I hardly know how it could be more ill,\" she whispered. \"I think God and his Mother have forgotten me. Yet I am glad to see you again, and I hope to livelong enough to look again on my dear sons and bless them....\" She sighed wearily, trying to shift her body a little. \"My backaches so with lying here, and yet whenever I am touched, it is like knives thrusting into me. And I am so thirsty, yet I dare not drink for fear of the pain....\"\n\n\"I will make you as comfortable as I can,\" Viviane said, and, telling the servants what she wanted, she dressed the sores that came from lying in the bed and washed out Priscilla's mouth with a cooling lotion, so that even though she did not drink, her mouth would not torment her so with dryness. Then she sat near her, holding her hand, not troubling the sick woman with words. Sometime after dark, there was a sound in the courtyard, and Priscilla, starting up again, her eyes feverish in the lamplight, cried out, \"It is my sons!\"\n\nAnd indeed, after a little time, Balan and his foster-brother, Balin, Gawan's son, came into the room, stooping under the low ceiling." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Mother,\" Balan said, and stooped to kiss Priscilla's hand, only then turning to Viviane to bow before her. \"My lady.\"\n\nViviane reached out and touched her elder son's cheek. He was not as handsome as Lancelet, this one; he was a huge burly man, but his eyes were dark and fine like her own, or Lancelet's. Balin was smaller, a sturdy, grey-eyed man. He was, she knew, just ten days older than her own son. He looked as Priscilla had once looked, fair-haired and red-cheeked.\n\n\"My poor mother,\" he murmured, stroking Priscilla's hand, \"but now the Lady Viviane has come to help you, then you will be well again very soon, will you not? But you are so thin, Mother, you must try to eat more and be strong and well again....\"\n\n\"No,\" she whispered, \"I shall never be strong more until I sup with Jesus in Heaven, dear son.\"\n\n\"Oh, no, Mother, you must not say so-\" Balin cried, and Balan, meeting Viviane's eyes, sighed.\n\nHe said in so low atone that neither Priscilla nor her son could hear, \"He cannot see that she is dying, my lady-my mother. Always he insists that she can recover. I had truly hoped that she would go in the autumn, when we all took the fever, but she has always been so strong-\" Balan shook his head, and his thick neck was flushed. Viviane saw that tears were standing in his eyes; he dashed them quickly away. And after a little, she said that they must all go out and let the sick woman rest again.\n\n\"Say farewell to your sons, Priscilla, and bless them,\" she said, and Priscilla's eyes brightened a little. \"I would it should truly be farewell, before it grows worse-I would not have them see meas I was this morning,\" she murmured, and Viviane saw the terror in her eyes. She bent over Priscilla and said gently, \"I think I can promise you no more pain, my dear, if that is how you wish it to end.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Please,\" whispered the dying woman, and Viviane felt the clawlike hand tighten on hers in entreaty.\n\n\"I will leave you herewith your sons, then,\" Viviane said gently, \"for they are both your sons, my dear, even though you bore but one of them.\" She went out into the other room and found Gawan there.\n\n\"Bring me my saddlebags,\" she said; and when this had been done, she searched in a pocket fora moment. Then she turned to the man. \"She is at ease fora moment now, but I can do little more, save to put an end to her suffering. I think this is what she wishes.\"\n\n\"There is no hope then-none at all?\"\n\n\"No. There is nothing left for her but suffering, and I cannot think that your God wills it that she should suffer more.\"\n\nGawan said, shaken, \"She has said often-that she wished she had had courage to throw herself into the river while she could still walk thither-\"\n\n\"It is time, then, that she should go in peace,\" Viviane said quietly, \"but I wanted you to know that whatever I do, it is by her own will-\"\n\n\"Lady,\" Gawan replied, \"I have trusted you always, and my wife loves you well and trusts you. I ask no more. If her sufferings end here, I know she will bless you.\" But his face was drawn with grief. He followed Viviane into the inner room again. Priscilla had been speaking quietly to Balin; now she released his hand, and he went, weeping, to his father. She held out her thin hand to Balan and said in her shaking voice, \"You too have been a good son tome, my lad. Always look after your foster-brother, and I beg you to pray for my soul.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I will, my mother,\" said Balan, and bent to embrace her, but she gave a. little trembling cry of pain and fear as he moved toward her, and so he only picked up her withered hand and pressed his fingers to it.\n\n\"Now I have your medicine for you, Priscilla,\" said Viviane. \"Say goodnight, and sleep....\"\n\n\"I am so weary,\" the dying woman whispered, \"I shall be glad to sleep... bless you, Lady, and your Goddess too....\"\n\n\"In her name, who gives mercy,\" Viviane murmured, and held Pris-cilla's head up so that she could swallow.\n\n\"I am afraid to drink-it is bitter, and whenever I swallow anything there is pain-\" Priscilla whispered.\n\n\"I swear to you, my sister, that when you have drunk this, there will be no more pain at all,\" Viviane said steadily, and tipped the cup. Priscilla swallowed and raised her weak hand to touch Viviane's face.\n\n\"Kiss me in farewell, too, Lady,\" she said, with that ghastly smile again, and Viviane pressed her lips to the skull-like brow.\n\nI have brought life and now I come as the Death-crone.... Mother, I do for her only what I would that one might do for me one day, Viviane thought, and shivered again, raising her eyes to meet Balin's frowning gaze.\n\n\"Come,\" she said quietly, \"let her rest.\"\n\nThey went out into the other room. Gawan remained behind, his hand in his wife's; it was only fitting, Viviane thought, that he should remain with her.\n\nThe serving-women had set the evening meal and Viviane went to her place and ate and drank, for she was weary after the long ride." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Have you ridden from Arthur's court at Caerleon all in this day, my boys?\" she asked, then smiled-these'boys\" were men!\n\n\"Aye, from Caerleon-\" Balan said, \"and a wretched ride it was, in cold and rain!\" He helped himself to salt fish and spread butter on his bread, then handed the wooden dish to Balin. \"You are eating nothing, my brother.\"\n\nBalin shuddered. \"I have not the heart to eat when our mother lies like that. But God be thanked now you have come, Lady, she will soon be all well again, will she not? Your medicines did her so much good last time, it was like a miracle, and now again she will be better, will she not?\"\n\nViviane stared at him-was it possible that he did not understand? She said quietly, \"The best end of all is that she might go to join her God in the hereafter, Balin.\"\n\nHe looked up at her, his ruddy face stricken. \"No! She must not die,\" he cried. \"Lady, tell me that you will help her, that you will not let her die-\"\n\nViviane said severely, \"I am not your God, and life and death are not in my keeping, Balin. Would you have her linger in such misery for much longer?\"\n\n\"But you are skilled in all manner of magic lore,\" Balin protested angrily. \"Why came you here, if not to cure her again? I heard you say but now, that you could put an end to her pain-\"\n\n\"There is only one cure for such an illness as has taken your mother,\" Viviane said, laying a compassionate hand on Balm's shoulder, \"and that is merciful.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Balin, have done,\" Balan said, going to put his big callused hand on his foster-brother's." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Would you truly have her suffer more?\"\n\nBut Balin jerked up his head and glared at Viviane. \"So you used your sorcery tricks to cure her when it was honor to your evil fiend-Goddess,\" he shouted, \"and now when you can get no more good of it you will let her die-\"\n\n\"Be still, man,\" Balan said, and now his voice was rough and strained. \"Marked you not-our mother blessed and kissed her farewell, it was what she wished for-\"\n\nBut Balin was staring at Viviane, and then he raised his hand as if to strike her. \"Judas!\" he shouted. \"You too betrayed with a kiss-\" And he whirled and ran toward the inner room. \"What have you done? Murderess! Foul murderess! Father! Father, here's murder and evil sorcery-!\"\n\nGawan, white-faced, appeared in the chamber door, anxiously gesturing for silence, but Balin shoved him aside and burst into the room. Viviane followed, and she saw that Gawan had closed the dead woman's eyes.\n\nBalin saw also, and he turned on her, shouting incoherently, \"Murder! Treachery, sorcery-! Foul, murdering witch-!\"\n\nGawan wrapped restraining arms around his son. \"You will not speak so over your mother's very body to one she trusted and loved!\"\n\nBut Balin raved and shouted, straining to come at Viviane. She tried to speak, to quiet him, but he would not hear. At last she went out into the kitchen and sat by the fire.\n\nBalan came and took her hand and said, \"I'm sorry he is receiving it in this way, my lady. He knows better, and when the shock is past he'll be grateful to you as I am-poor little mother, she suffered so, and now 'tis ended, and I bless you too.\" He lowered his head, trying not to sob aloud. \"She was-was like mother tome too-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"I know, my son, I know,\" Viviane murmured, patting his head as if he were the clumsy little boy he had been more than twenty years ago." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It's only right you should weep for your foster-mother, you would be heartless if you did not-\" and he broke down and sobbed, kneeling at her side, his face buried in her lap.\n\nBalin came and stood over them, his face drawn with fury. \"You know she killed our mother, Balan, and yet you come to her for comfort?\"\n\nBalan raised his head, snuffling back sobs. \"She did our mother's will. Are you such a fool you could not see-even with God's help our mother could not have lived another fortnight, do you grudge her that last pain she was spared?\"\n\nBut Balin only cried desolately, \"My mother, my mother is dead!\"\n\n\"Be still, she was my foster-mother, my mother too,\" said Balan angrily, and then his face softened. \"Ah, brother, brother, I grieve too, why should we quarrel? Come now, drink some wine, her suffering is ended and she is with God-better we should pray for her than be all at odds this way. Come, brother, come and eat and rest, you are weary too.\"\n\n\"No,\" cried Balin, \"I will not rest under the roof that shelters the foul sorceress who slew my mother!\"\n\nGawan came, pale and angry, and struck Balin across the mouth. He said, \"Peace! The Lady of Avalon is our guest and our friend! You shall not sully the hospitality of this roof with such blasphemous words! Sit down, my son, and eat, or you will speak words we shall all regret!\"\n\nBut Balin stared about him like a wild animal. \"I will neither eat nor rest under this roof while it holds that-that woman.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Balan demanded, \"Dare you offer insult to my mother?\"" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And Balin cried, \"You are all against me, then-I shall go forth from this roof which shelters my mother's slayer!\" He turned his back and ran from the house. Viviane sank down in a chair, and Balan came to offer his arm and Gawan to pour her a cup of wine.\n\n\"Drink, Lady-and accept my apologies for my son,\" he said. \"He is beside himself; he will come soon enough to sanity.\"\n\n\"Shall I go after him, Father, for fear he should do himself some hurt?\" Balan asked, but Gawan shook his head.\n\n\"No-no, son, stay herewith your mother. Words will do him little good now.\"\n\nTrembling, Viviane sipped at her wine. She, too, was overcome with sorrow for Priscilla, and for the time when they had been young women together, each with her baby son in her arms.... Priscilla had been so pretty and merry, they had laughed together and played with their babies, and now Priscilla lay dead after a wasting illness, and Viviane's own hand had held the cup of her death. That she had done Priscilla's own will only eased her conscience, it did not blunt her sadness.\n\nWe were young together, and now she lies dead and I am old, old as the Death-crone's very self; and those pretty babies who played about our feet, one has grey in his own hair, and the other would kill me if he could, as afoul sorceress and murderer.... It seemed to Viviane that her very bones rattled with an icy grief. She stood near to the fire, but still she shivered and could not get warm. She clutched her shawl about her, and Balan came and led her to the best seat, tucked a cushion behind her back, set a cup of heated wine in her hands." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ah, you loved her too,\" he said. \"Don't trouble yourself about Balin, Lady, he will regain his reason in time. When he can think clear again, he'll know that what you did was great mercy to our mother-\" He broke off, slow red creeping up his heavy jowls. \"Are you angry with me, Lady, that still I think of my mother as she who died but now?\"\n\n\"It is no more than reason,\" said Viviane, sipping at the hot wine, and caressing her son's hardened hand. Once, she thought, it had been so little and tender that she could enfold it within her own, like a curled rosebud, and now her own hand was quite lost within his. \"The Goddess knows, she was more mother to you than ever I was.\"\n\n\"Aye, I should have known that you would understand that,\" said Balan. \"Morgaine said as much tome when I saw her last at Arthur's court.\"\n\n\"Morgaine? Is she at Arthur's court now, my son? Was she there when you came away?\"\n\nBalan shook his head regretfully. \"No, I saw her last-it was years gone, Lady. She left Arthur's court, let me think... it was before Arthur had his great wound... why,\"tis three years come Midsummer. I thought she was with you in Avalon.\"\n\nViviane shook her head and steadied herself against the arm of the high seat. \"I have not seen Morgaine since Arthur's wedding.\" And then she thought, perhaps she is gone over the seas. She asked Balan, \"What of your brother Lancelet? Is heat court or has he gone back to Less Britain?\"\n\n\"He will not do that, I think, while Arthur lives,\" Balan said, \"though he is not often at court now...\" and Viviane, with a fragment of the Sight, heard the unspoken words Balan bit back, unwilling to speak gossip or scandal: When Lancelet is at court, men mark how he never takes his eyes from Queen Gwenhwyfar, and twice he has refused Arthur when Arthur would have had him wedded. Balan went on hastily, \"Lancelet has said he will set all things in order in Arthur's kingdom, and so he is always out and about the lands, he has killed more marauding brigands and raiding bands than any other of Arthur's Companions. They say of him that he is an entire legion in himself, Lady-\" and Balan raised his head and looked ruefully at Viviane. \"Your younger son, Mother, is a great knight, such a knight as that old Alexander of the legends. There are those who say, even, that he is a better knight than Arthur's self. I have brought no such glory on you, my lady.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"We all do such things as the Gods give us to do, my son,\" Viviane said gently." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am only glad to see that you do not bear malice toward your brother for that he is a better knight than you.\"\n\nBalan shook his head. \"Why, that would be like bearing malice toward Arthur that I am not the King, Mother,\" he said. \"And Lancelet is modest and good to all men, and pious as a maiden too-knew you not that he had become a Christian, Lady?\"\n\nViviane shook her head. \"It surprises me not,\" she said, with a trace of scorn she did not know would be in her voice until she had spoken. \"Always your brother fears those things he cannot understand, and the faith of Christ is a fitting faith for slaves who think themselves sinners and humble-\" Then she stopped herself and said, \"I am sorry, my son. I meant not to belittle. I know it is your faith too.\"\n\nBalan blinked and smiled. \"Now has a miracle come to pass, madam, that you ask pardon of any for any word you ever spoke!\"\n\nViviane bit her lip. \"Is that truly how you see me, my son?\"\n\nHe nodded. \"Aye, ever you have seemed tome the proudest of women-and it seemed tome right that you should be exactly as you are,\" he said. And Viviane mocked herself that she had come to this, seeking a word of approval from her son! She cast about to find something new to speak of.\n\n\"You told me Lancelet has twice refused to marry? For what, do you think, is he waiting? Does he want more of a dowry than any maiden can bring him?\"\n\nAgain it seemed that she heard Balan's unspoken thoughts: He cannot have the one he would have, for she is wedded to his king... but her son said only, \"He says he has no mind to marry any woman, and jests that he is fonder of his horse than he could be of any woman who could not ride with him into battle-he says in jest that one day he will take one of the Saxon shield maidens to wife. None can match him at arms, either, nor in the games Arthur holds at Caerleon. Sometimes he will take some handicap, ride without a shield, or change horses with another, so he will not have too much of the advantage. Balin challenged him once and won a course against him, but he refused a prize for it, because he found out it was because Lancelet's saddle girths broke.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"So Balin too is a courteous and good knight?\" Viviane said.\n\n\"Oh, yes, Mother, you must not judge my brother by tonight,\" Balan said eagerly. \"When he rode against Lancelet, truly I knew not which of them to cheer on. Lancelet offered him the prize, saying he had won it fairly, since he should not have lost control of his horse-so he said! But Balin would not take it, and they stood disputing with one another in courtesy like two heroes from the ancient sagas Taliesin used to tell us when we were lads!\"\n\n\"So you can be proud of both your brothers,\" Viviane said, and the talk passed to other things, and after a little time she said she should go and help with the laying-out. But when she went into the chamber, she saw that the women were all in awe of her, and a priest had come, too, from the village. He welcomed her courteously indeed, but Viviane could tell by his words that he thought her one of the sisters from the nunnery nearby-indeed, her dark travel dress made her look so, and she had no wish to confront him this night. So, when they entreated her to go to the best guest bed, she went, and at last she slept. But all that she had spoken of with Balan seemed to come and go in her head, through her dreams, and atone moment it seemed that she saw Morgaine through grey and thinning mists, running away into a wood of strange trees and crowned with flowers such as never grew in Avalon, and she said in her dreams, and again to herself when she woke, I must delay no longer, I must seek for her with the Sight, or what remains tome of the Sight.\n\nThe next morning she stood by while Priscilla was laid in earth. Balin had returned and stood weeping by the graveside, and after the burial was done and the other folk had gone into the house to drink ale, she approached him and said gently, \"Will you not embrace me and exchange forgiveness with me, foster-son? Believe me, I share your grief. We have been friends all our lives, Dame Priscilla and I, or would I have given her my own son to nurse? And I am your foster-brother's mother.\" She held out her arms, but Balin's face drew hard and cold, and he turned his back on her and walked away." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gawan besought her to stay fora day or two and rest there, but Viviane asked for her donkey to be brought; she must return to Avalon, she said, and she saw that Gawan, though his hospitality had been sincere, was relieved-if someone had told the priest who she was, there might have been awkwardness he had no mind to, during his wife's funeral feast. Balan, too, asked, \"Will you have me to ride with you to Avalon, madam? There are sometimes brigands and evil folk on the road.\"\n\n\"No,\" she said, giving him her hand and smiling. \"I look not as if I had gold about me, and the men who ride with me are of the Tribesmen-we could hide in the hills, should we be attacked. Nor am I any temptation to any man who might seek to take a woman.\" She laughed and said, \"And with Lancelet questing to kill all the brigands in this country, it will soon be as it was said once it was, that a virgin of fifteen bearing a purse of gold might ride from one end of the land to the other with no man to offer her insult! Stay here, my son, and mourn your mother, and make peace with your foster-brother. You must not quarrel with him for my sake, Balan.\" And then she shuddered suddenly as if with cold, fora picture had come into her mind, and it seemed to her as if there was the clash of swords and her son bleeding from a great wound....\n\n\"What is it, Lady?\" he asked her softly.\n\n\"Nothing, my son-only promise tome that you will not break the peace with your brother Balin.\"\n\nHe bent his head. \"I will not, Mother. And I will tell him that you have said this, so he will not think you bear him any grudge, either.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"By the Lady, I do not,\" said Viviane, but still she felt icy cold, though the winter sun was warm on her back. \"May she bless you, my son, and your brother too, though I doubt he wishes for the blessing of any God but his own. Will you take the Lady's blessing, Balan?\"\n\n\"I will,\" he said, bending to kiss Viviane's hand, and he stood looking after her as she rode away.\n\nShe told herself, as she rode toward Avalon that surely what she had seen had come of her own weariness and fear; and in any case Balan was one of Arthur's Companions, and it could not be looked for, in this war with the Saxons, that he should escape a wound. But the picture persisted in her mind, that Balan and his foster-brother should somehow quarrel in her name, until at last she made astern banishing gesture and willed to see her son's face no more in her mind till she should look on it again in the flesh!\n\nShe was troubled too about Lancelet. He was long past the age when a man should marry. Yet there were men enough who had no mind to women, seeking only for the companionship of their brothers and comrades underarms, and she had wondered often enough if Ban's son were one of them. Well, Lancelet should take his own road; she had consented to that when he left Avalon. If he professed great devotion to the Queen, no doubt, it was only that his comrades should not mock at him as a lover of boys.\n\nBut she dismissed her sons from her mind. Neither of them was as near to her heart as Morgaine, and Morgaine... where was Morgaine? She had been disquieted before this, but now, hearing Balan's news, she feared for Morgaine's very life. Before this day was ended, she should send out messengers from Avalon to Tintagel, where Igraine dwelt, and northward to Lot's court where Morgaine might have gone to be with her child.... She had seen the young Gwydion, once or twice, in her mirror, but had paid him little heed, as long as he grew and thrived. Morgause was kindly to all little children, having a brood of her own, and there would be time enough to look to Gwydion when he came of an age for fostering. Then should he come to Avalon...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "With the iron discipline of years, she managed to put even Morgaine from her mind and to ride home to Avalon in a mood befitting a priestess who had just taken the part of the Death-crone for her oldest friend-sobered indeed, but without great grief, for death was only the beginning of new life.\n\nPriscilla was a Christian. She believed she would now be with her God in Heaven. Yet she too will be born again on this imperfect world, to seek the perfection of the Gods, again and yet again.... Balan and I parted as strangers, and so it must be. I am no more the Mother, and I should feel no more grief than when I ceased to be the Maiden for her... yet her heart was filled with rebellion.\n\nTruly, the time had come for her to give up her rulership of Avalon, that a younger woman might be Lady of the Lake and she herself no more than one of the wise-women, offering counsel and advice, but carrying no more that fearsome power. She had long known that the Sight was leaving her. Yet she would not lay down her power until she could place it in the hands of that one she had prepared to take it from her. She had felt that she could wait until Morgaine had outgrown her bitterness and returned to Avalon.\n\nYet if anything has befallen Morgaine... and even if it has not, have I the right to continue as Lady when the Sight has left me?\n\nFora moment, when she came to the Lake, she was so cold and wet that when the boat's crew turned to her to call down the mists, she could not force herself to remember the spell. Indeed it is time and more than time that I should lay down my powers.... Then the words of power came back into her mind and she spoke them, but much of that night she lay wakeful, in dread." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When the morning had come, she studied the sky; the moon was darkening, and it would do no good to consult the mirror at this time. Will it ever profit me anything to look into that mirror again, now the Sight has departed from me? With iron discipline, she forced herself to say nothing of any of this to her attendant priestesses. But later that day she met with the otherwise-women and asked them, \"Is there anyone in the House of Maidens who is still virgin and has never yet gone to the grove or to the fires?\"\n\n\"There is Taliesin's little daughter,\" said one of the women. Fora moment Viviane was confused-surely Igraine was grown and wedded and widowed, mother of the High King in Caerleon, and Morgause too was wedded and the mother of many sons. Then she recalled herself and said, \"I knew not that he had a daughter in the House of Maidens.\" A time had been, she thought, when no girl had been taken into the Maiden House without her own knowledge, and it had been her hand that had tested each one for the Sight and for her fitness for the Druid lore. But in the last years, she had let this slip from her.\n\n\"Tell me. How old is she? What is her name? When did she come to us?\"\n\n\"Her name is Niniane,\" said the old priestess. \"She is the daughter of Branwen-do you remember? Branwen said that Taliesin had fathered this child at Beltane fire. It seems it was only a little while ago, but she must be eleven or twelve, perhaps more. She was fostered away in the North somewhere, but she came to us five or six seasons ago. She is a good child and biddable enough, and there are not now so many maidens who come to us that we can afford to pick and choose among them, Lady! There are none now like Raven or your fosterling Morgaine. And where is Morgaine now, Lady? She should return to us!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Viviane said, \"She should return to us indeed,\" and felt ashamed to say that she did not even know where Morgaine was, or even whether she was alive or dead. How have I the insolence to be Lady of Avalon when I know not even the name of my successor, nor who dwells in the House of Maidens? But if this Niniane was daughter to Taliesin and to a priestess of Avalon, surely she must have the Sight. And even if she had it not herself, Viviane could compel her to see, if she was a maiden still.\n\nShe said, \"See that Niniane is sent tome before dawn, three days from now,\" and, although she saw a dozen questions in the eyes of the old priestess, she marked with a certain satisfaction that she was still unquestioned Lady of Avalon, for the woman asked her nothing.\n\nNINIANE CAME TO HER an hour before dawn, at the end of the moon-dark seclusion; Viviane, sleepless, had spent much of the night in restless self-questioning. She knew herself reluctant to set aside her own position of authority, yet if she could lay it into Morgaine's hands, she would do so without regrets. She turned over in her hand the little sickle knife which Morgaine had abandoned when she fled from Avalon, then put it aside and raised her face to look at Taliesin's daughter.\n\nThe old priestess, even as I myself, loses track of time; surely she is more than eleven or twelve. The girl was trembling in awe, and Viviane recalled how Morgaine too had trembled when she first saw her as Lady of Avalon. She said gently, \"You are Niniane? Who are your parents?\"\n\n\"I am Branwen's daughter, Lady, but I do not know my father's name. She said only that I was Beltane-gotten.\" Well, that was reasonable enough." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How old are you, Niniane?\"\n\n\"I shall have finished fourteen winters this year.\"\n\n\"And you, have you been to the fires, child?\"\n\nThe girl shook her head. She said, \"I have not been called thither.\"\n\n\"Have you the Sight?\"\n\n\"Only a little, I think, Lady,\" she said, and Viviane sighed and said, \"Well, we shall see, child; come with me,\" and she led the way out of her isolated house, upwards along the hidden path to the Sacred Well. The girl was taller than she herself, slender and fair-haired, with violet eyes-she was not unlike Igraine at that age, Viviane thought, though Igraine's hair had been nearer red than golden. Suddenly it seemed that she could see this Niniane crowned and robed as the Lady, and she shook her head impatiently, to clear it of unwanted vision. Surely this was only wandering daydream....\n\nShe brought Niniane to the pool, then stopped fora moment to look at the sky. She handed her the sickle knife which had been given to Morgaine when she had been made priestess, and said to her quietly, \"Look into the mirror, my child, and see where she who held this dwells now.\"\n\nNiniane looked at her hesitantly and said, \"Lady, I told you-I have little of the Sight-\"\n\nViviane suddenly understood-the girl was frightened of failure. \"It does not matter. You will see with the Sight that once was mine. Be not afraid, child, but look for me into the mirror.\"\n\nSilence, while Viviane watched the girl's bent head. In the surface of the pool it seemed only that wind came and ruffled the surface, as always. Then Niniane said in a quiet, wandering voice, \"Ah, see... she sleeps in the arms of the grey king...\" and was still." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "What can she mean? Viviane could make nothing of the words. She wanted to cry out to Niniane, to force the Sight upon her undesired, yet she compelled herself, by the greatest effort of her life, to keep still, knowing that even her restless thoughts could blur the Sight for the maiden. She said, hardly above a whisper, \"Tell me, Niniane, do you see that day when Morgaine shall return to Avalon?\"\n\nAgain the empty silence. A little breeze-the dawn wind-had sprung up, and again the riffle of wind came and went across the glassy surface of the water. At last Niniane said softly, \"She stands in the boat... her hair is all grey now...\" and again she was still, sighing as if with pain.\n\n\"Do you see more, Niniane? Speak, tell me-\"\n\nPain and terror crossed the girl's face and she whispered, \"Ah, the cross... the light burns me, the cauldron between her hands-Raven! Raven, will you leave us now?\" She gave a sharp indrawn breath of shock and dismay, and crumpled fainting to the ground.\n\nViviane stood motionless, her hands clenched, and then, with along sigh, she bent to raise the girl. She dipped her hand in the pool, sprinkled water on Niniane's slack face. After a moment the girl opened her eyes, stared at Viviane in fright, and began to cry.\n\n\"I am sorry, Lady-I could see nothing,\" she whimpered.\n\nSo. She spoke, but she remembers nothing of what she saw. I might well have spared her this, for all the good it has done. It was pointless to be angry with her-she had done no more than she was commanded. Viviane stroked the fair hair back from Niniane's forehead and said gently, \"Don't cry; I am not angry with you. Does your headache? So-go and rest, my child.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The Goddess bestows her gifts as she will. But why, Mother of all, do you send me to do your will with imperfect instruments? You have taken from me the power to do your will; why, then, have you taken from me the one who should serve you when I am no longer here? Niniane, her hands pressed to her forehead, went slowly down the path toward the House of Maidens, and after a time, Viviane followed.\n\nHad Niniane's words been nothing but raving? She did not think so-she was sure the girl had seen something. But Viviane could make nothing of what Niniane had seen, and the girl's few attempts to put it into words meant nothing to Viviane. And now Niniane had forgotten it all, so that she could not be questioned further.\n\nShe sleeps in the arms of the grey king. Did that mean Morgaine was lying in the arms of death?\n\nWould Morgaine return to them? Niniane had said only, She stands in the boat... so Morgaine would return to Avalon. Her hair is all grey now. So the return would not come soon, if at all. That, at least, was unequivocal.\n\nThe cross. The light burns me. Raven, Raven, the cauldron between her hands. That was certainly no more than delirium, an attempt to put some tenuous vision into words. Raven would bear the cauldron, the magical weapon of water and of the Goddess... yes, Raven was empowered to handle the Great Regalia. Viviane sat staring at the wall of her chamber, wondering if this meant that now Morgaine was gone from them, Raven should bear the power of the Lady of the Lake. It seemed to her that there was no other way to interpret the girl's words. And even so, they might mean nothing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Whatever I do now, I am in the dark-I might better have gone to Raven, who would have answered me only with silence!\n\nBut if Morgaine had indeed gone into the arms of death, or was lost to Avalon forever, there was no other priestess fit to carry the weight. Raven had given her voice to the Goddess in prophecy... was the place of the Goddess to go unserved because Raven had chosen her silent path?\n\nViviane sat alone in her dwelling, staring at the wall, pondering Niniane's cryptic words again and again in her heart. Once she rose and went alone up the silent path to stare again into the unmoving waters, but they were grey, grey as the unyielding sky. Once indeed it seemed to her that something moved there, and Viviane whispered, \"Morgaine?\" and looked deep into the silence of the pool.\n\nBut the face that looked out at her was not Morgaine's face-it was still, dispassionate as the Goddess herself, crowned with bare wicker-withes....\n\n... Is it my own reflection I see, or the Death-crone?...\n\nAt last, weary, she turned away.\n\nThis I have known since first I trod the path-a time comes when there is only despair, when you seek to tear the veil from the shrine, and you cry out to her and know that she will not answer because she is not there, because she was never there, there is no Goddess but only yourself, and you are alone in the mockery of echoes from an empty shrine....\n\nThere is no one there, there was never anyone there, and all the Sight is but dreams and delusions....\n\nAs she trudged wearily down the hill, she saw that the new moon stood in the sky. But now it meant nothing to her save that this ritual silence and seclusion were done for the time." }, { "from": "human", "value": "What have Ito do with this mockery of a Goddess?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The fate of Avalon lies in my hands, and Morgaine is gone, and I am alone with old women and children and half-trained girls... alone, all alone! And I am old and weary and my death awaits me....\n\nWithin her dwelling the women had lighted afire, and a cup of warmed wine sat steaming beside her usual chair so that she might break the moon-dark fast. She sank down wearily, and one of her attendant priestesses came silently to draw off her shoes and put a warm shawl about her shoulders.\n\nThere is no one but I. But I have still my daughters, I am not wholly alone. \"Thank you, my children,\" she said, with unaccustomed warmth, and one of the attendants bowed her head shyly without speaking. Viviane did not know the girl's name-why am I thus neglectful?-but she thought she must be under avow of silence for the time. The second said softly, \"It is our privilege to serve you, Mother. Will you go to rest?\"\n\n\"Not yet awhile,\" Viviane said, and then on an impulse said, \"Go and ask the priestess Raven to attend me.\"\n\nIt seemed along time before, with silent step, Raven came into the room. Viviane greeted her with a bending of the head, and Raven came and bowed, then, following Viviane's gesture, went to the seat across from Viviane's own. Viviane handed her the cup, still half filled with the hot wine, and Raven sipped, smiling thanks, and put it from her.\n\nAt last Viviane said in entreaty, \"My daughter, you broke your silence once before Morgaine left us. Now I seek for her and she cannot be found. She is not in Caerleon, nor in Tintagel, nor with Lot and Morgause in Lothian... and I grow old. There is none to serve.... I ask of you as I would inquire of the oracle of the Goddess: will Morgaine return?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Raven was silent." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At last she shook her head and Viviane demanded, \"Do you mean that Morgaine will not return? Or do you mean that you do not know?\" But the younger priestess made an odd gesture of helplessness and questioning.\n\n\"Raven,\" said Viviane, \"you know that I must lay down my place, and there is no other to bear it, none who has the old training of a priestess, none who has gone so far-only you. If Morgaine does not return to us, you must be Lady of the Lake. Your oath was given to silence, and you have borne it faithfully. Now it is time to lay it aside, and take from my hands the guardianship of this place-there is no other way.\"\n\nRaven shook her head. She was a tall woman, slightly built, and, Viviane thought, no longer young; she was certainly ten years older than Morgaine-she must be nearing her fortieth year. And she came here as a little maiden with her breasts not yet budded. Her hair was long and dark, and her face dark and sallow, her eyes large beneath dark, thick brows. She looked worn and austere.\n\nViviane covered her face with her hands and said in a hoarse voice, through tears she could not shed, \"I-cannot, Raven.\"\n\nAfter a moment, her face covered, she felt a gentle touch on her cheek. Raven had risen and was bending over her. She did not speak, only took Viviane into a close embrace and held her fora moment, and Viviane, feeling the warmth of the younger woman pressed against her, began to sob, and felt that she would weep and weep with no will ever to cease. And at last, when in sheer exhaustion Viviane was silent, Raven kissed heron the cheek and went silently away." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Once Igraine had said to Gwenhwyfar that Cornwall was at the world's end. So it seemed to Gwenhwyfar-there might never have been such things as marauding Saxons or a High King. Ora High Queen. Herein this distant Cornish convent, even though on a clear day she could lookout toward the sea and seethe stark line of Tintagel castle, she and Igraine were no more than two Christian ladies. Gwenhwyfar thought, surprising herself, I am glad I came.\n\nYet when Arthur had asked her to go, she had been afraid to leave the enclosing walls of Caerleon. The journey had seemed along nightmare to her, even the swift and comfortable ride along the Roman road south; when they left the Roman road and began to travel across the high, exposed moors, Gwenhwyfar had huddled in panic within her litter, hardly able to tell which was more of a terror to her, the high open sky or the long, long vistas of grass, treeless, where the rocks thrust up stark and cold like the very bones of the earth. Then fora time no living creature could be seen except the ravens that circled high, waiting for something to die, or, faraway, one of the wild moorland ponies, stopping to throw up a shaggy head before bolting away.\n\nYet herein this distant Cornish convent, all was still and peaceful; a soft-toned bell rang the hours, and roses grew in the enclosed cloister garden and twined into crannies of the crumbling brick wall. Once it had been a Roman villa. The sisters had taken up the floor of one big room, they said, because it had portrayed some scandalous pagan scene-Gwenhwyfar was curious as to what it was, but no one told her and she was ashamed to ask. All around the edges of the room were lovely little tiled dolphins and curious fish, and at the center, common bricks had been laid. She sat therewith the sisters sometimes in the afternoons and stitched at her sewing, while Igraine was resting." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Igraine was dying. Two months since, the message had come to Caerleon. Arthur had had to travel north to Eboracum to see to the fortification of the Roman wall there and could not go, nor was Morgaine there. And since Arthur could not go, and it could not be looked for that Viviane, at her age, could make the long journey, Arthur had begged Gwenhwyfar to go and stay with his mother; and after much persuasion she had agreed.\n\nGwenhwyfar knew little about tending the sick. Whatever illness had seized on Igraine, at least it was painless-but she was short of breath and could not walk far without coughing and gasping. The sister who cared for her said it was congestion in the lungs, yet there was no coughing of blood and she had no fever and flushing. Her lips were pale and her nails blue, and her ankles were swollen to where she could hardly walk on them; she seemed almost too weary to speak and kept her bed most of the time. She seemed not so very ill to Gwenhwyfar, but the sister said she was dying indeed, and now it could not be more than a week at most.\n\nIt was the fairest part of the summer, and this morning Gwenhwyfar brought a white rose from the convent garden and laid it on Igraine's pillow. Igraine had struggled to her feet last night to go to evensong, but this morning she had been so weary and without strength she could not rise. Yet she smiled up at Gwenhwyfar and said in her wheezing voice, \"Thank you, dear daughter.\" She put the flower to her face, sniffing delicately at the petals. \"Always I wanted roses at Tintagel, but the soil there was so poor, little would grow.... I dwelt there five years and never did I cease from trying to make some sort of garden.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"When you came to take me to be wedded, you saw the garden at my home,\" Gwenhwyfar said, with a sudden twinge of homesickness for that faraway walled garden.\n\n\"I remember how beautiful it was-it put me in mind of Avalon. The flowers are so beautiful there, in the courts of the House of Maidens.\" She was silent fora moment. \"A message was sent to Morgaine at Avalon?\"\n\n\"A message was sent, Mother. But Taliesin told us Morgaine had not been seen in Avalon,\" said Gwenhwyfar. \"No doubt she is with Queen Morgause in Lothian, and in these times it takes forever fora messenger to come and go.\"\n\nIgraine drew a heavy sigh and began to struggle with a cough again, and Gwenhwyfar helped her to sit upright. After a time Igraine murmured, \"Yet the Sight should have bidden Morgaine to come tome-you would come if you knew your mother was dying, would you not? Yes, for you came, and I am not even your own mother. Why has Morgaine not come?\"\n\nIt is nothing to her that I have come, Gwenhwyfar thought, it is not me she wants here. There is no one who cares whether I am here or elsewhere. And it seemed as if her very heart was bruised. But Igraine was looking at her expectantly, and she said, \"Perhaps Morgaine has received no message. Perhaps she has gone into a convent somewhere and become a Christian and renounced the Sight.\"\n\n\"It maybe so.... I did so when I married Uther,\" Igraine murmured. \"Yet now and again it thrust itself on me undesired, and I think if Morgaine was ill or dying I would know it.\" Her voice was fretful. \"The Sight came upon me before you were married... tell me, Gwenhwyfar, do you love my son?\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Co-writing with the writer, continue the narrative.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 6" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"When you came to take me to be wedded, you saw the garden at my home,\" Gwenhwyfar said, with a sudden twinge of homesickness for that faraway walled garden.\n\n\"I remember how beautiful it was-it put me in mind of Avalon. The flowers are so beautiful there, in the courts of the House of Maidens.\" She was silent fora moment. \"A message was sent to Morgaine at Avalon?\"\n\n\"A message was sent, Mother. But Taliesin told us Morgaine had not been seen in Avalon,\" said Gwenhwyfar. \"No doubt she is with Queen Morgause in Lothian, and in these times it takes forever fora messenger to come and go.\"\n\nIgraine drew a heavy sigh and began to struggle with a cough again, and Gwenhwyfar helped her to sit upright. After a time Igraine murmured, \"Yet the Sight should have bidden Morgaine to come tome-you would come if you knew your mother was dying, would you not? Yes, for you came, and I am not even your own mother. Why has Morgaine not come?\"\n\nIt is nothing to her that I have come, Gwenhwyfar thought, it is not me she wants here. There is no one who cares whether I am here or elsewhere. And it seemed as if her very heart was bruised. But Igraine was looking at her expectantly, and she said, \"Perhaps Morgaine has received no message. Perhaps she has gone into a convent somewhere and become a Christian and renounced the Sight.\"\n\n\"It maybe so.... I did so when I married Uther,\" Igraine murmured. \"Yet now and again it thrust itself on me undesired, and I think if Morgaine was ill or dying I would know it.\" Her voice was fretful. \"The Sight came upon me before you were married... tell me, Gwenhwyfar, do you love my son?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Gwenhwyfar shrank from the sick woman's clear grey eyes; could Igraine see into her very soul?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I love him well and I am his faithful queen, lady.\"\n\n\"Aye, I believe you are... and you are happy together?\" Igraine held Gwenhwyfar's slender hands in her own fora moment and suddenly smiled. \"Why, so you must be. And will be happier yet, since you are bearing his son at last.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar's mouth dropped open and she stared at Igraine. \"I-I-I did not know.\"\n\nIgraine smiled again, a tender and radiant smile, so that Gwenhwyfar thought, Yes, I can believe it, that when she was young, she was beautiful enough for Uther to cast aside all caution and seek her with spells and charms.\n\nIgraine said, \"It is often so, though you are not really so young-I am surprised you have not already had a child.\"\n\n\"It was not for lack of wanting, no, nor praying for it either, lady,\" Gwenhwyfar said, so shaken that she hardly knew what she was saying. Was the old Queen falling into delirium? This was too cruel for jesting. \"How-what makes you think I am-am with child?\"\n\nIgraine said, \"I forgot, you have not the Sight-it has deserted me for long and long I renounced it, but as I say, it steals upon me unawares, and never has it played me false.\" Gwenhwyfar began to weep, and Igraine, troubled, reached out her thin hand and laid it over the younger woman's.\n\n\"Why, how is this, that I give you good news and you weep, child?\"\n\nNow she will think I do not want a child, and I cannot bear to have her think ill of me.... Gwenhwyfar said shakily, \"Only twice in all the years I have been married have I had any cause to think myself pregnant, and then I carried the child only a month or two. Tell me, lady, do you-\" Her throat closed and she dared not speak the words. Tell me, Igraine, shall I bear this child, have you seen me then with Arthur's child at my breast? What would her priest think of this compromise with sorcery?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Igraine patted her hand. \"I wish I might tell you more, but the Sight comes and goes as it will. God grant it come to a good end, my dear; it maybe that I can see no more because by the time your child is born, I shall not be hereto see-no, no, child, do not weep,\" she begged. \"I have been ready to leave this life ever since I saw Arthur wedded. I would like to see your son, I would like to hold a child of Morgaine's in my arms, should that day ever come, but Uther is gone and it is well with my children. It maybe that Uther waits for me beyond death, or the other children I lost at birth. And if they do not-\" She shrugged. \"I shall never know.\"\n\nIgraine's eyes closed, and Gwenhwyfar thought, I have wearied her. She sat silent until the older woman slept, then rose and went quietly into the garden.\n\nShe felt numbed; it had truly not seemed to her that she might be pregnant. If she had thought anything at all about it, it was that the stress of travel had delayed her courses... for the first three years of her marriage, every time it had been late, she had thought herself with child. Then, in the year in which Arthur had been, first, away for the battle of Celidon Wood and the long campaign before it, then wounded and too weak to touch her, the same pattern had persisted. And finally she had realized that her monthly rhythms were inconstant-there was noway to keep track of them by the moon, for sometimes two or three months might pass with no sign.\n\nBut now that Igraine had spoken, she wondered why she had not thought of this before; it never occurred to her to doubt the Queen. Something inside Gwenhwyfar said, Sorcery, and there was a small voice that persisted in reminding her, All these things are of the Devil, and have no place in this house of holy women. But something else said, How could it be wicked to tell me this? It was more, she thought, as when the angel was sent to Mary the Virgin to tell her of the birth of her son... and then fora moment Gwenhwyfar was struck with awe at her own presumption; and then she began softly to giggle, at the incongruity of Igraine, old and dying, as an angel of God." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At that moment the bell rang in the cloister for prayers, and Gwenhwyfar, though here as a guest, and without obligation, turned and went into the sisters' chapel, kneeling in her accustomed place among the visitors. But she heard little of the service, for her whole heart and mind were caught up in the most fervent prayer of her entire life.\n\nIt has come, the answer to all my prayers. Oh, thank you, God and Christ and our Blessed Lady!\n\nArthur was wrong. It was not he who failed. There was no need... and once again she was filled with the paralyzing shame she had felt when he had said that thing to her, all but giving her leave to betray him... and what a wicked woman I was then, that I could even have considered it.... But now in the very midst of her wickedness God had rewarded her when she deserved it now. Gwenhwyfar raised her head and began to sing the Magnificat with the rest, so fervently that the abbess raised her head and looked sharply at her.\n\nThey do not know why I am thankful... they do not know how much I have to be thankful for....\n\nBut they do not know how wicked I was either, for I was thinking herein this holy place of the one I love....\n\nAnd then, even through her joy, suddenly it was like pain again: Now he will look upon me big with Arthur's child, and he will think me ugly and gross and never look on me again with love and longing. And even through the joy in her heart, she felt small and cramped and joyless.\n\nArthur gave me leave, and we could have had each other, at least once, and now never... never... never....\n\nShe put her face into her hands and wept behind them, silently, and no longer cared that the abbess was watching her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "THAT NIGHT IGRAINE'S BREATHING was so labored that she could not even lower her head to rest; she had to sit bolt upright, propped upon many cushions, to breathe at all, and she wheezed and coughed without end. The abbess gave her a draught of something which would clear the lungs, but it only made her queasy, she said, and she could take no more of it.\n\nGwenhwyfar sat beside her, drowsing a little now and then, but alert whenever the sick woman stirred, to give her a sip of water, to shift her pillows so that she could find a little ease. There was only a small lamp in the room, but there was brilliant moonlight, and the night was so warm that the door stood open into the garden. And through it all there was the ever-present muffled sound of the sea beyond the garden, beating at the rocks.\n\n\"Strange,\" Igraine murmured at last in a faraway voice, \"never would I have thought I would come hereto die.... I remember how dreary I felt, how alone, when first I came to Tintagel, as if I had come to the very end of the world. Avalon was so fair, so beautiful, so filled with flowers...\"\n\n\"There are flowers here,\" Gwenhwyfar said.\n\n\"But not like the flowers of my home. It is so barren here, so rocky,\" she said. \"Have you been in the Island, child?\"\n\n\"I was schooled in the convent on Ynis Witrin, madam.\"\n\n\"It is beautiful on the Island. And when I travelled here over the moors, it was so high and barren and deserted, I was afraid-\"\n\nIgraine made a weak movement toward her, and Gwenhwyfar took her hand and was alarmed by its coldness. \"You area good child,\" Igraine said, \"to come so far, when my own children could not. I remember how you dread travelling-and now to come so far, when you are pregnant.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Gwenhwyfar rubbed the icy hands between her own." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Do not tire yourself with talking, Mother.\"\n\nIgraine made a little sound like a laugh, but it got lost in a fit of wheezing. \"Do you think it makes any difference now, Gwenhwyfar? I wronged you-even on the very day you were wedded, I went to Taliesin and asked him, was there any honorable way for Arthur to get out of this marriage.\"\n\n\"I-did not know. Why?\"\n\nIt seemed to her that Igraine hesitated before answering, but she could not tell, perhaps it was only that the other woman struggled for speech. \"I know not... perhaps it was that I thought you would not be happy with my son.\" She struggled again with a fit of coughing so heavy that it seemed she would never get her breath.\n\nWhen she had quieted a little, Gwenhwyfar said, \"Now you must talk no more, Mother-will you have me bring you a priest?\"\n\n\"Damn all priests,\" said Igraine clearly. \"I will have none of them about me-oh, look not so shocked, child!\" She lay still fora moment. \"You thought me so pious, that I retired to a convent in my last years. But where else should I have gone? Viviane would have had meat Avalon, but I could not forget it was she who had married me to Gorlois.... Beyond that garden wall lies Tintagel, like a prison... a prison it was tome, indeed. Yet it was the only place I could call my own. And I felt I had won it by what I endured there....\"\n\nAnother long, silent struggle for breath. At last she said, \"I wish Morgaine had come tome... she has the Sight, she should have known I was dying....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar saw that there were tears in her eyes. She said gently, rubbing the icy hands which now felt as taut as cold claws, \"I am sure she would come if she knew, dear Mother.\"\n\n\"I am not so sure... I sent her from me into Viviane's hands. Even though I knew well how ruthless Viviane could be, that she would use Morgaine as ruthlessly as she used me, for the well-being of this land and for her own love of power,\" Igraine whispered. \"I sent her from me because I felt it better, if it came to be a choice of evils, that she should be in Avalon and in the hands of the Goddess, than in the hands of the black priests who would teach her to think that she was evil because she was a woman.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar was deeply dismayed. She chafed the icy hands between her own and renewed the hot bricks at Igraine's feet; but the feet too were cold as ice, and when she rubbed them Igraine said she could not feel them.\n\nShe felt she must try again. \"Now with your end near, do you not want to speak with one of Christ's priests, dear Mother?\"\n\n\"I told you, no,\" said Igraine, \"or after all these years when I kept silent to have peace in my home, I might tell them at last what I truly felt about them.... I loved Morgaine enough to send her to Viviane, that she at least might escape them....\" She began wheezing again. \"Arthur,\" she said at last. \"Never was he my son... he was Uther's-only a hope of the succession, no more. I loved Uther well and I bore him sons because it meant so much to him that he should have a son to follow him. Our second son-he that died soon after his navel string was cut-him, I think, I might have loved for my own, as I loved Morgaine.... Tell me, Gwenhwyfar, has my son reproached you that you have not yet borne him an heir?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar bent her head, feeling her eyes stinging with tears. \"No, he has been so good... never once has he reproached me. He told me once that he had never fathered a son by any woman, though he had known many, so that perhaps the fault was not mine.\"\n\n\"If he loves you for yourself, then he is a priceless jewel among men,\" said Igraine, \"and it is all the better if you can make him happy.... Morgaine I loved because she was all I had to love. I was young and wretched; you can never know how unhappy I was that winter when I bore her, alone and far from home and not yet full-grown. I feared she would have become a monster because of all the hate I felt when I was bearing her, but she was the prettiest little thing, solemn, wise, like a fairy child. She and Uther only have I loved... where is she, Gwenhwyfar? Where is she that she would not come to her mother when she is dying?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar said compassionately, \"No doubt she knows not that you are ill-\"\n\n\"But the Sight!\" Igraine cried, moving restlessly on her pillow. \"Where can she be, that she does not see that I am dying? Ah, I saw she was in deep trouble, even at Arthur's crowning, and yet I said nothing, I did not want to know, I felt I had had enough grief and said nothing when she needed me.... Gwenhwyfar, tell me the truth! Did Morgaine have a child somewhere, alone and far from anyone who loved her? Has she spoken of this to you? Does she hate me then, that she will not come tome even when I am dying, only because I did not speak out all my fears for her at Arthur's crowning? Ah, Goddess... I put aside the Sight to have peace in my home, since Uther was a follower of the Christ.... Show me where dwells my child, my daughter....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Gwenhwyfar held her motionless and said, \"Now you must be still, Mother..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "it must be as God wills. You cannot call upon the Goddess of the fiends here-\"\n\nIgraine sat bolt upright; despite her sick swollen face, her blue lips, she looked on the younger woman in such away that Gwenhwyfar suddenly remembered, She too is High Queen of this land.\n\n\"You know not what you speak,\" Igraine said, with pride and pity and contempt. \"The Goddess is beyond all your other Gods. Religions may come and go, as the Romans found and no doubt the Christians will find after them, but she is beyond them all.\" She let Gwenhwyfar lower her to her pillows and groaned. \"I would my feet could be warmed... yes, I know you have hot bricks there, I cannot feel them. Once I read in an ancient book which Taliesin gave me of some scholar who was forced to drink hemlock. Taliesin says that the people have always killed the wise. Even as the people of the far southlands put Christ to the cross, so this wise and holy man was forced to drink hemlock because the rabble and the kings said he taught false doctrine. And when he was dying, he said that the cold crept upward from his feet, and so he died.... I have not drunk of hemlock, but it is as if I had... and now the cold is reaching my heart....\" She shivered and was still, and fora moment Gwenhwyfar thought she had ceased to breathe. No, the heart was still sluggishly beating. But Igraine did not speak again, lying wheezing on her pillows, and a little before dawn the rasping breaths finally ceased.\n\nIgraine was buried at midday, after a solemn service of mourning; Gwenhwyfar stood beside the grave, tears sliding down her face as the shrouded body was lowered into the open earth. Yet she could not properly mourn her mother-in-law. Her living here was all a lie, she was no true Christian. If it was true what they believed, then Igraine was even now burning in hell. And she could not bear that, not when she thought of all Igraine's kindness to her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Her eyes burned with sleeplessness and tears. The lowering sky echoed her vague dread; heavy, as if at any moment rain would fall on them. Here within convent walls she was safe, but soon she must leave the safety of this place and ride for days over the high moors with the brooding menace of that open sky everywhere, hanging over her and over her child.... Gwenhwyfar, shivering, clasped her hands across her belly, as if in a futile wish to protect the dweller therefrom the menace of that sky.\n\nWhy am I always so frightened? Igraine was a pagan and lost to the tricks of the Devil, but I am safe, I call upon Christ to save me. What is thereunder God's Heaven to be afraid of? Yet she was afraid, with the same reasonless fear that seized on her so often. I must not fear. I am High Queen of all Britain; the only other to bear that title sleeps here beneath the earth... High Queen, and bearing the son of Arthur. Why should I be afraid of anything in God's world?\n\nThe nuns finished their hymn, turning from the grave. Gwenhwyfar shivered again, clutching her cloak. Now she must take very good care of herself, eat well, rest much, make certain that nothing went amiss as it had done before. Secretly she counted on her fingers. If it had been that last time before she left... but no, her courses had not come upon her for more than ten Sundays, she simply was not certain. Still, it was sure that her son would be born sometime about Eastertide. Yes, that was a good time; she remembered when her lady Meleas had born her son, it had been the darkest of winter, and the wind had howled outside like all the fiends waiting to snatch the soul of the newborn child, so nothing would suit Meleas but that the priest must comedown to the women's hall and baptize her babe almost before it cried. No, Gwenhwyfar was just as well pleased that she would not lie in at the darkest days of winter. Yet to have the longed-for child, she would be content to bear it even at Midwinter-night itself!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "A bell tolled, and then the abbess came to Gwenhwyfar. She did not bow-temporal power, she had once said, was nothing here-but Gwenhwyfar was, after all, the High Queen, so she inclined her head with great courtesy and said, \"Will you be staying on with us here, my lady? We would be deeply honored to keep you as long as you wish.\"\n\nOh, if only I could stay! It is so peaceful here.... Gwenhwyfar said, with visible regret, \"I cannot. I must return to Caerleon.\"\n\nShe could not delay telling Arthur her good news, the news of his son....\n\n\"The High King must hear of-of his mother's death,\" she said. Then, knowing what the woman wanted to hear, she added quickly, \"Be sure I will tell him how kindly you treated her. She had everything she could wish for in the last days of her life.\"\n\n\"It was our pleasure; we all loved the lady Igraine,\" said the old nun. \"Your escort shall be told, and be ready to ride with you early in the morning, God willing and send good weather.\"\n\n\"Tomorrow? Why not today?\" Gwenhwyfar asked, then stopped-no, that would be insulting haste indeed. She had not realized she was so eager to tell her news to Arthur, to end for all time the silent reproach that she was barren. She laid her hand on the abbess'arm. \"You must pray for me much now, and for the safe birth of the High King's son.\"\n\n\"Is it so, lady?\" The abbess' lined face wrinkled up in pleasure at being the confidante of the Queen. \"Indeed we shall pray for you. It will give all the sisters pleasure to think we are the first to say prayers for our new prince.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I shall make gifts to your convent-\"\n\n\"God's gifts and prayers may not be bought for gold,\" the abbess said primly, but she looked pleased nevertheless.\n\nIn the room near Igraine's chamber, where she had slept these last nights, her serving-woman was moving about, putting garments and gear into saddlebags. As Gwenhwyfar entered, she looked up and grumbled, \"It suits not well with the dignity of the High Queen, madam, to travel with only one servant! Why, any knight's wife would have as much! You should get you another from one of the houses here, and a lady to travel with you as well!\"\n\n\"Get one of the lay sisters to help you, then,\" said Gwenhwyfar. \"But we shall travel all the more quickly if we are but few.\"\n\n\"I heard in the courtyard that there were Saxons landing on the Southern Shores,\" the woman grumbled. \"It soon will not be safe to ride anywhere in this country!\"\n\n\"Don't be foolish,\" Gwenhwyfar said. \"The Saxons on the Southern Shores are bound fast by treaty to keep peace with the High King's lands. They know what Arthur's legion can do, they found it out at Celidon Wood. Do you think they want more work for ravens? In any case we will soon be back at Caerleon, and at the end of summer, we shall move the court to Camelot in the Summer Country-the Romans defended that fort against all the barbarians. It has never been taken. Even now Sir Cai is there, building a great hall fit for Arthur's Round Table, so that all the Companions and kings may sit at meat together.\"\n\nAs she had hoped, the woman was diverted. \"That is near your own old home, is it not, lady?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Yes. From the heights of Camelot, one may look a bowshot across the water and see my father's island kingdom. Indeed, I went therein childhood once,\" she said, remembering how, when she was a little girl, even before she went to school with the nuns on Ynis Witrin, she had been taken up to the ruins of the old Roman fort. There had been little there then, except for the old wall, and the priest had not stinted to make this a lesson on how human glories faded away....\n\nShe dreamed that night that she stood high on Camelot; but the mists drew in around the shore, so that the island seemed to swim in a sea of cloud. Across from them, she could seethe high Tor of Ynis Witrin, crowned with ring stones; although she knew well that the ring stones had been thrown down by the priests a hundred years ago. And by some trick of the Sight it seemed that Morgaine stood on the Tor and laughed at her and mocked her, and she was crowned with a wreath of bare wicker-withes. And then Morgaine was standing beside heron Camelot and they looked out overall the Summer Country as far as the Isle of the Priests, looking down over her own old home where her father Leodegranz was king, and over Dragon Island shrouded in mist. But Morgaine was wearing strange robes and a high double crown, and she stood so that Gwenhwyfar could not quite see her, but only knew she was there. She said, I am Morgaine of the Fairies, and all these kingdoms will I give to you as their High Queen if you will fall down and worship me.\n\nGwenhwyfar woke with a start, Morgaine's mocking laughter in her ears. The room was empty and silent except for the heavy snores of her serving-woman in a pallet on the floor. Gwenhwyfar made the sign of the cross and lay down to sleep again. But on the very edge of sleep it seemed to her that she looked into the clear and moonlit waters of a pool, and instead of her own face, Morgaine's paleface was reflected back at her, crowned with wicker-withes like the harvest dolls some of the peasant folk still made, and very faraway. And again Gwenhwyfar had to sit up and make the sign of the cross before she could compose herself to sleep." }, { "from": "human", "value": "It seemed all too soon that she was wakened, but then she had been so insistent they should set forth at the first light." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She could hear the rain pounding on the roof as she put on her gown by lamplight, but if they stayed for rain in this climate they should be here a year. She felt dull and queasy, but now she knew there was a good reason for that, and secretly patted her still-flat stomach as if to reassure herself it was real. She had no desire to eat, but dutifully swallowed some bread and cold meats... she had along ride before her. And if she had no mind to riding in the rain, at least it was likely that any Saxons or marauders would stay within doors as well.\n\nShe was fastening the hood of her warmest cloak when the abbess entered. After a few formal words of thanks for the rich gifts made by Gwenhwyfar on her own behalf and on Igraine's, the abbess came to the real business of this farewell visit.\n\n\"Who now reigns in Cornwall, lady?\"\n\n\"Why-I am not sure,\" said Gwenhwyfar, trying to remember. \"I know the High King gave Tintagel to Igraine when he married, so that she might have a place of her own, and I suppose, after her, the lady Morgaine, daughter of Igraine by the old Duke Gorlois. I know not even who is there now as castellan.\"\n\n\"Nor I,\" said the abbess. \"Some serving-manor knight of the lady Igraine, I suppose. That is why I came to speak with you, madam... the castle Tintagel is a prize, and it should be tenanted, or there will be war in this countryside too. If the lady Morgaine is married and comes hereto live, all will be well, I suppose-I do not know the lady, but if she is Igraine's daughter, I suppose she is a good woman and a good Christian.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "You suppose wrong, Gwenhwyfar thought, and again it was as if she heard the mocking laughter from her dream. But she would not speak ill of Arthur's kinswoman to a stranger.\n\nThe abbess said, \"Bear my message to Arthur the King, lady-that someone should come to dwell in Tintagel. I have heard something of a rumor that ran about the countryside when Gorlois died-that he had a bastard son and some other kinfolk, and some of them might strive to conquer this country again. While Igraine dwelt here, all folk knew it was under Arthur's dominion, but now it would be well if the High King sent one of his best knights hither-perhaps married to the lady Morgaine.\"\n\n\"I will tell Arthur,\" Gwenhwyfar said, and as she set out, she pondered this. She knew little of statecraft, but she remembered that there had been chaos before Uther came to the crown and again when he died leaving no heir; she supposed something like that might befall if Cornwall was left with none to rule or keep good laws. Morgaine was Queen of Cornwall and should come hitherto reign. And then she remembered what Arthur had once said that his dearest friend should wed with his sister. Since Lancelet was not wealthy and had no lands of his own, it would be the right thing that they should come to reign together in Cornwall.\n\nAnd now I am to bear Arthur's son, it would be best to send Lancelet far from court, that I might never again look on his face and think of him such thoughts as no wedded woman and no good Christian should think. And yet she could not bear to think of Lancelet wedded to Morgaine. Had there ever been so wicked a woman as she on the face of this wicked world? She rode with her face hidden in her cloak, not listening to the gossip of the knights who were her escort, but after a time she realized that they were passing by a village which had been burned. One of the knights asked her leave to stop awhile, and went away to look for survivors; he came back looking grim." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Saxons,\" he said to the others, and bit the words off when he saw that the Queen was listening.\n\n\"Don't be frightened, madam, they are gone, but we must ride as fast as we may and tell Arthur of this. If we find you a faster horse, can you keep our pace?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar felt her breath catch in her throat. They had come up out of one of the deep valleys, and the sky arched high and open over them, filled with menace-she felt as some small thing must feel in the grass when the shadow of a hawk swoops over it. She said, and heard her voice thin and trembling like the voice of a very little girl, \"I cannot ride faster now. I bear the child of the High King and I dare not endanger him.\"\n\nAgain it seemed as if the knight-he was Griflet, husband of her own waiting-woman, Meleas-bit off his words, setting his jaw with a snap. He said at last, concealing his impatience, \"Then, madam, it were as well we should escort you to Tintagel, or to some other great house in this area, or back again to the convent, so that we may ride at speed and reach Caerleon before the dawn of tomorrow's day. If you are with child you certainly cannot ride through the night! Will you let one of us escort you and your woman back to Tintagel or to the convent again?\"\n\nI would like it well to be within walls again, if there are Saxons in this country... but I must not be such a coward. Arthur must have the news of his son. She said stubbornly, \"Cannot one of you ride on toward Caerleon, and the rest of you travel at my pace? Or cannot a messenger be hired to bear the word quickly?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Griflet looked as if he wanted to swear. \"I could not trust to any hired messenger in this country now, madam, and there are few of us even fora peaceful country, barely enough to protect you. Well, it must be as it will, no doubt Arthur's men have received the word already.\" He turned away, his jaw white and set, and looked so angry that Gwenhwyfar wanted to call him back and agree to all he said; but she told herself firmly not to be so cowardly. Now when she was to bear the royal son, she must behave herself like a queen and ride on with courage.\n\nAnd if I was at Tintagel and the countryside was filled with Saxons, there would I remain until the war had ended and all the country at peace again, and it might belong... and if Arthur did not even know I was with child, he might be content to let me dwell there forevermore. Why should he want to bring back a barren queen to his new palace at Camelot? Like enough he would listen to the counsel of that old Druid who hates me, Taliesin, who is his grandsire, and put me away for some woman who could bear him a bouncing brat every ten moons or so...\n\nBut all will be well, once Arthur knows....\n\nIt seemed as if the icy wind was sweeping across the high moors and into her very bones; after a time she begged them to stop again and get out the litter so that she might ride within it... the horse's motion jolted her so. Griflet looked angry, and fora moment she thought he would forget his courtesy and swear at her, but he gave the orders, and she huddled gratefully inside the litter, glad of the slow pace and the closed flaps which closed out the frightening sky." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Before dusk the rain stopped fora while, and the sun came out, low and slanting over the dismal moor. \"We will setup the tents here,\" Griflet said. \"Hereon the moor at least we can see along way. Tomorrow we should strike the old Roman road, and then we can travel faster-\" and then he dropped his voice and said something to the other knights which Gwenhwyfar could not hear, but she cringed, knowing he was angry at the slow pace at which they must travel. Yet everyone knew a breeding woman was more like to miscarry if she rode a fast horse, and already twice she had miscarried a child-did they want her to lose Arthur's son this time too? She slept poorly within the tent, the ground hard beneath her thin body, her cloak and blankets all damp, her body aching from the unaccustomed riding.\n\nBut after a time she slept, despite the pouring rain that leaked through the tent, and was wakened by the sound of riders and a call: Griflet's voice, harsh and rough.\n\n\"Who rides there! Stand!\"\n\n\"Is it you, Griflet? I know your voice,\" came a cry out of the dark. \"It is Gawaine, and I seek for your party-is the Queen with you?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar threw her cloak over her nightdress and came out from the tent. \"Is it you, cousin? What do you here?\"\n\n\"I hoped to find you still at the convent,\" said Gawaine, sliding from his horse. Behind him in the darkness were other forms-four or five of Arthur's men, though Gwenhwyfar could not distinguish their faces. \"Since you are here, madam, I suppose Queen Igraine has departed this life-\" \"She died the night before last,\" Gwenhwyfar said, and Gawaine sighed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well, it is God's will,\" he said. \"But the land is underarms, madam-since you are here and so far on your way, I suppose you must continue onto Caerleon. Had you still been at the convent I was under orders to escort you, and such of the sisters as wished to seek protection, to Tintagel castle, and bid you remain there until there was safety in the land.\"\n\n\"And now you may spare the journey,\" said Gwenhwyfar irritably, but Gawaine shook his head. He said, \"Since my message is useless, and I suppose the sisters will wish to take shelter within their convent walls, I must ride onto Tintagel with news for all men sworn to Arthur to come at once. The Saxons are massing near the coast with more than a hundred ships-beacon signals were sent from the lighthouses. The legion is at Caerleon, and all men are gathering. When the word came to Lothian, I rode at once to join Arthur; and Arthur sent me to Tintagel to bear word thither.\" He drew breath. \"Not the Merlin's self is more a messenger than I these ten days.\"\n\n\"And I told the Queen,\" said Griflet, \"that she should remain at Tintagel, but now it is too late to return there! And with armies gathering on the roads-Gawaine, perhaps you should escort the Queen back to Tintagel.\"\n\n\"No,\" said Gwenhwyfar clearly. \"I must return now, I am not afraid to travel where I must.\" Even more, if he was facing war again, Arthur would wish for the good news she bore. Gawaine had already shaken his head impatiently.\n\n\"I cannot delay for any woman's riding, unless it were the Lady of the Lake herself, who can ride a day's journey with any man a-horse! And you are but a sorry rider, madam-nay, I spoke not to anger you, no one expects that you should ride like a knight, but I cannot delay-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And the Queen is breeding and must travel at the slowest pace of all,\" Griflet told him with equal impatience. \"Can some of your slowest riders be told to escort the Queen, Gawaine, and I ride on with you to Tintagel?\" Gawaine smiled. \"No doubt you wish to beat the heart of things, Griflet, but you have been given this task and no one envies you,\" he said. \"Can you find me a cup of wine and some bread? I will travel on through the night, to be in Tintagel at sunrise. I have a message for Marcus, who is war duke of Cornwall and is to bring his knights. This maybe the great battle Taliesin foretold, where we perish or we drive the Saxons once and for all from this land! But every man must come and fight at Arthur's side.\"\n\n\"Even some of the treaty troops will stand with Arthur now,\" said Griflet. \"Ride on if you must, Gawaine, and God ride with you.\" The two knights embraced. \"We will meet again when God wills, friend.\"\n\nGawaine bowed to Gwenhwyfar. She reached out a hand to him and said, \"A moment-is my kinswoman Morgause well?\"\n\n\"As ever, madam.\"\n\n\"And my sister-in-law Morgaine-she is safe in Morgause's court, then?\"\n\nGawaine looked startled. \"Morgaine? No, madam, I have not seen my kinswoman Morgaine for many years. Certainly she has not visited Lothian, or so my mother said,\" he replied, courteous despite his impatience. \"Now I must be off.\"\n\n\"God ride with you,\" she said, and stood watching as the men's hoofbeats thundered away in the night." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is now so near dawn,\" she said, \"is there any reason to try to sleep more, or should we break camp and ride on for Caerleon?\"\n\nGriflet looked pleased. \"True, there will belittle sleep for any, in this rain,\" he said, \"and if you can travel, lady, it would please me well to be on the road. God knows what we shall have to pass through before we reach Caerleon.\"\n\nBut as the sun rose over the moors it was as if they rode through a land already struck silent by the war. It was the season when the farmers should be out in their fields, but although they passed several isolated hill farms, no sheep grazed, not a dog barked, nor any child came to watch them; and even along the Roman road there was not a single traveller. Gwenhwyfar, shivering, realized that the word had gone out to raise the countryside for war, and such as could do nothing had crept behind closed doors to hide from the armies of either side.\n\nWill it endanger my child, to travel at this pace? Yet now it seemed a choice of evils-endanger herself and her child and Arthur's by this forced travel, or delay on the road and perhaps fall into the hands of the Saxon armies. She resolved that Griflet should have no further cause to complain that she had delayed them. Yet as she rode, unwilling to take refuge within her litter lest he accuse her again of delaying him, it seemed that fear was hovering everywhere around her.\n\nIT WAS NEAR TO sunset, and it had been along day, when they caught sight of the watchtower which Uther had built at Caerleon. The great crimson banner of the Pendragon floated from the heights, and Gwenhwyfar crossed herself as they passed beneath it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Now all Christian men are to make a stand against the barbarians, is it fating that this sign of an ancient Devil-faith should serve to rally the armies of a Christian king?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Once indeed she had spoken of it to Arthur and he had answered that he had sworn to his people that he would rule over them as the Great Dragon, Christian and non-Christian alike without favor, and had laughed, stretching out his arms with the barbarian serpents tattooed all along their length. She felt loathing for those serpents, symbols that no Christian man should bear, but he had been stubborn.\n\n\"I bear them in sign of the kingmaking when I was given Uther's place in this land. We will speak no more of this, lady.\" And nothing she had said could force him to discuss it with her or to listen to what a priest might say on the subject.\n\n\"Priestcraft is one thing and kingcraft is another, my Gwenhwyfar. I would that you should share all things with me, but you have no wish to share this, and so I may not speak of it to you. And as for the priests, it is none of their affair. Leave it, I say.\" His voice had been firm, not angry, but still she had bent her head and said no more. Yet now, as she rode beneath the Pendragon banner, she trembled. If our son is to rule in a Christian land, is it fating that Druid banner should fly above his father's castle?\n\nThey rode slowly through the encamped armies in the plain before Caerleon. Some of the knights, who knew her well, came out and setup a cheer for their queen, and she smiled and waved to them. They rode beneath the banner of Lot and through the men of Lothian, Northmen with pikes and long axes, wrapped in the crudely dyed clothes they wore; over their camp flew the banner of the Morrigan, the Great Raven of Gawaine's brother Gaheris came out from that camp and bowed to her, and walked beside Griflet's horse as they rode up toward the castle." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Did my brother find you, Griflet? He had a message for the Queen-\"\n\n\"He met us when we were already a day on the road,\" Gwenhwyfar said, \"and it was easier to continue here.\"\n\n\"I will come with you to the castle-all of Arthur's chosen Companions are bidden to dine with the King,\" said Gaheris. \"Gawaine was angry at being sent with messages, yet no one can ride so swiftly as my brother when he must. Your lady is here, Griflet, but she is readying herself and the child to go to the new castle-Arthur says all the women must go, they can be more easily defended there, and he can spare but few to defend them.\"\n\nTo Camelot! Gwenhwyfar's heart sank-she had ridden all the way from Tintagel to give Arthur news of their child, and now would he pack her up and send her to Camelot?\n\n\"I do not know that banner,\" said Griflet, looking at a golden eagle sculptured lifelike on a pole. It seemed very ancient.\n\n\"It is the standard of North Wales,\" said Gaheris. \"Uriens is here, with Avalloch his son. Uriens claims his father took this standard from the Romans, more than a hundred years ago. It may even be the truth! The men from Uriens'hills are strong fighters, though I'd not say so in their hearing.\"\n\n\"And whose banner is that?\" asked Griflet, but this time, though Gaheris turned to speak, it was Gwenhwyfar herself who answered.\n\n\"That is the banner of my father, Leodegranz, the blue banner with the cross worked in gold.\" She herself, as a young maiden in the Summer Country, had helped her mother's women to embroider it for the king. It was said that her father had chosen this device after hearing a tale that one of the emperors of Rome had seen the sign of the cross in the sky before one of his battles. We should now be fighting beneath that sign, not the serpents of Avalon! She shivered, and Gaheris looked at her sharply." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Are you cold, lady? We must ride onto the castle, Griflet, no doubt Arthur will be awaiting his queen.\"\n\n\"You must be weary of riding, my queen,\" said Griflet, looking up kindly at her. \"Now will you soon be in the hands of your women.\"\n\nAnd as they came closer to the doors of the castle, there were many of Arthur's Companions whom she knew, who waved to her and called to her in friendly, informal fashion. Next year at this time, she thought, they will come out to cheer their prince.\n\nA big, lurching man, huge and clumsy-footed, in leather armor and a steel cap, came into the path of her horse-it was as if he stumbled, though he bowed to Gwenhwyfar and she could see that it was deliberate, that he had put himself in her way like this.\n\n\"Madam, my sister,\" he said, \"do you not know me?\" Gwenhwyfar frowned and stared at him, then after a moment recognized him. \"Is it you-\"\n\n\"Meleagrant,\" he said. \"I have come hereto fight at our father's side and your husband's, my sister.\"\n\nGriflet said, with a friendly smile, \"I knew not that your father had a son, my queen. But all are welcome to fight under Arthur's standard-\"\n\n\"Perhaps you will speak for me to your husband the King, my sister,\" said Meleagrant. Gwenhwyfar, looking at him, felt a faint distaste run through her. He was an enormous man, almost a giant, and like so many huge men, he looked misshapen, as if one side of his body were somehow grown larger than the other. One eye was certainly larger than the other, and had a squint; yet, trying to be fair, Gwenhwyfar thought the man's deformity was no fault of his, and she really knew nothing against him. Yet it was arrogance, that he should call her sister before all these men, and now he had grasped her hand without leave and made as if to kiss it. She clenched it into a fist and pulled it away." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Trying to make her voice firm, she said, \"No doubt when you merit it, Meleagrant, my father will speak for you to Arthur and he will make you one of his knights." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I am only a woman and I have no authority to promise you that. Is my father here?\"\n\n\"He is with Arthur within the castle,\" said Meleagrant sullenly, \"and I am like a dog out herewith the horses!\"\n\nGwenhwyfar said firmly, \"I cannot see that you have any claim to more than this, Meleagrant. He has given you a post at his side, for your mother was once a favorite of his-\"\n\nMeleagrant said harshly, \"All men in the country know as well as my mother that I am the king's son, his only living son! Sister, speak to our father for me!\"\n\nShe pulled away her hand from his repeated effort to seize it. \"Let me go, Meleagrant! My father claims you are not his son, and how can I say anything else? I never knew your mother-this is between you and my father!\"\n\n\"But you must listen,\" said Meleagrant urgently, tugging at her hand, and Griflet thrust himself between them and said, \"Here, here, fellow, you can't talk to the Queen like that, or Arthur will have your head on his platter at dinnertime! I'm sure our lord and king will grant you what's right, and if you fight well for him at this battle, no doubt he'll be glad to have you among his Companions. But you mustn't trouble the Queen this way!\" Meleagrant turned to face him, towering over Griflet until the latter, though he was a tall, athletic young man, looked like a child. The giant said, \"Are you going to tell me what I can say to my own sister, you little popinjay?\"\n\nGriflet put his hand on his sword and said, \"I was given the task of escorting my queen, fellow, and I'll do the task Arthur's given me to do. Get out of my path or I'll force you to!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You with who else?\" sneered Meleagrant, bracing himself with an ugly sneer.\n\n\"I, for one,\" said Gaheris, standing quickly at Griflet's side. Like Gawaine, he was a big, sturdy man who would have made two of the slender Griflet.\n\n\"And I,\" said Lancelet from the darkness beyond them, striding quickly toward Gwenhwyfar's horse, and she could have wept with relief. Never had he looked more handsome to her than now; and though he was slender and slightly built, something in his presence made Meleagrant drawback. \"Is this man annoying you, lady Gwenhwyfar?\"\n\nShe swallowed and nodded, and found to her dismay that she had no voice to speak. Meleagrant blustered, \"Who may you be, fellow?\"\n\n\"Take care,\" said Gaheris, \"don't you know the lord Lancelet?\"\n\n\"I am Arthur's captain of horse,\" said Lancelet, in his lazy amused voice, \"and the Queen's champion. Have you anything to say tome?\"\n\n\"My business is with my sister,\" said Meleagrant, but Gwenhwyfar said, high and shrill, \"I am no sister of his! This man claims to be my father's son because his mother was fora time one of the king's women! He is no son of my father's, but a baseborn clown who belongs in a farmyard, though my father has been kind enough to give him a place in his household!\"\n\n\"You had best get out of our way,\" said Lancelet, surveying Meleagrant with contempt, and it was easy enough to see that Meleagrant knew who Lancelet was and had no desire to try conclusions with him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He edged backward, saying in a surly voice, \"You will be sorry for this someday, Gwenhwyfar,\" but he gave ground, glowering, and let them pass.\n\nLancelet was dressed with his usual fastidious taste, in crimson tunic and cloak; his hair was carefully trimmed and combed, his face clean-shaven. His hands looked smooth and white as Gwenhwyfar's own, although she knew that they were hard and steel-strong. He was handsomer than ever. And he had come just in time to save her from an Ugly encounter with Meleagrant. She smiled-she could not help herself; it was as if something turned over, deep inside her.\n\nNo, I must not look at him this way now, I am to be the mother of Arthur's son....\n\nLancelet said, \"You do not want to pass through the great hall, lady, in your draggled riding clothes.... Has it been raining most of your journey? Let me take you and your servant to the side door, and you can go directly to your chamber and refresh yourself, then greet my lord Arthur in the hall when you are freshly dressed and warm and dry-you are shivering! Is the wind cold on you, Gwenhwyfar?\"\n\nHe long had the privilege of calling her by her name, without the formal'my queen\" or'lady,\" but never had it sounded so sweet on his lips. \"You are, as ever, thoughtful of me,\" she said, and let him lead her horse.\n\nLancelet said, \"Griflet, go now and tell our king that the lady is safe in her chambers. And you too, Gaheris, you are longing to be back among the Companions. I will see my lady safe.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "At the door he helped her to dismount, and she was only aware of the touch of his hands." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She lowered her eyes and would not look at him.\n\n\"The great hall is filled with Arthur's Companions,\" he said, \"and all is confusion-the Round Table has gone but three days ago, on three carts to Camelot, and Cai with it to set it in its place in the new hall. Now a rider has gone out in haste to summon Cai back, and such men as can ride from the Summer Country-\"\n\nShe looked up at him, frightened. \"Gawaine told us of the Saxon landing-is this truly the war Arthur feared?\"\n\n\"It is what we have all known for years must come, Gwen,\" he said quietly. \"For this Arthur has been training his legions, and I working with his horse troops. When this is over, perhaps, we shall have the peace we have longed for, all my life and all Uther's.\"\n\nSuddenly she flung her arms around him. \"You could be killed,\" she whispered. It was the first time she had had courage to do such a thing. She stood pressed against him, holding her face against his shoulder, and his arms went around her. Even through her fear she felt the sweetness that he would hold her so. He said, and his voice shook, \"We all knew that it must come someday soon, my dear. By our good fortune, we have had years to prepare for it, and Arthur to lead us-do even you know what a great leader of men he is, and how dear we all hold him? He is young, but he is the greatest of the High Kings we have had since long before the time of the Romans, and with Arthur to lead us, we will certainly drive the Saxons'hence-and for the rest, it's as God wills, Gwenhwyfar.\" He patted her shoulder gently, saying, \"Poor girl, you are so wearied, let me take you to your women.\" But she could feel his hands trembling, and was suddenly shamed that she had thrown herself into his arms as if she were a camp follower!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "IN HER OWN CHAMBERS all was confusion, Meleas putting garments into boxes, Elaine supervising the serving-women." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Elaine came and took Gwenhwyfar in her arms, crying out, \"Kinswoman, we have been so worried about you, on the roads-we had hoped that you had the message before leaving the convent, and would stay safe in Tintagel-\"\n\n\"No,\" said Gwenhwyfar, \"Igraine died. Gawaine met with us when we had already been a whole day on the road, and besides, my place is at my husband's side.\"\n\nMeleas asked, \"Lady, did Griflet return with you?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar nodded. \"He escorted me here. You will see him at dinner, I suppose-I heard Gaheris say that all of Arthur's Companions had been bidden to dine with the King-\"\n\nMeleas said, \"If you can call it dining. It is more like gobbling soldier's rations-this place is like an armed camp, and it will be worse before it is better. But Elaine and I have done our best to keep all things in order.\" She was a usually smiling, plump young woman who now looked worried and tired. \"I have put all your gowns and such things as you shall need for this summer into boxes, so that you maybe ready to ride for Camelot in the morning. The King said we were all to goat once, and it is all but ready for occupancy, with the work that Cai has done. But we never thought we would go there like this, in haste and almost under siege.\"\n\nNo, thought Gwenhwyfar. I have been riding these days and now I will not ride forth again! My place is here and my son has aright to be born in his father's own castle. I will not again be sent hither and thither like any bit of luggage or saddlery! She said, \"Beat ease, Meleas, perhaps there is no such haste as all this. Send someone for washwater and fetch me some gown which is not soaked and bedraggled by mud and travel. And who are all these women?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "These women, it turned out, were wives of some of the Companions and of certain of Arthur's subject kings, who would be sent with them to Camelot; it was easier if they all travelled in convoy, and there they would be safe from the Saxons. \"It is near to your home,\" Elaine said, as if that should settle all Gwenhwyfar's unwillingness. \"You can visit your father's wife, and your little brothers and sisters. Or while Leodegranz is at war, your stepmother will dwell with us at Camelot.\"\n\nThat would be no pleasure to either of us, Gwenhwyfar thought, and then was ashamed of herself. She felt like ending all this with a few words, I am pregnant, I cannot travel, but she shrank from the excited flurry of questions she knew would follow. Arthur should know it first.\n\nWhen Gwenhwyfar came into the great hall, which looked barren and empty without the great Round Table and all the splendor of banners and tapestries and hangings gone, Arthur was sitting at a trestle table halfway down the hall near the fires, surrounded by half a dozen of his Companions, others clustered near. She had been so eager to tell her news, but now she could not blurt it out before the whole court! She must wait until tonight when they were alone in bed-that was the only time she ever had him to herself at all. But when he looked up from his Companions and saw her, he rose and came to embrace her.\n\n\"Gwen, my dearest!\" he said. \"I had hoped Gawaine's message would keep you safe in Tintagel-\"\n\n\"Are you angry that I have comeback?\"\n\nHe shook his head. \"No, of course not. So the roads are still safe, then, and you were lucky,\" he said. \"But I suppose this must mean that my mother...\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"She died two days ago, and was buried within the convent walls,\" Gwenhwyfar said, \"and I set out at once to bring you the news." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And now you have nothing but reproach for me that I did not stay safely at Tintagel because of this war!\"\n\n\"Not reproach, my dear wife,\" he said gently, \"concern for your safety. But sir Griflet cared well for you, I can see. Come and sit with us here.\" He led her to a bench and seated her at his side. The silver and pottery dishes had vanished-she supposed they too had been sent to Camelot, and she wondered what had happened to the fine reddish of Roman make which her stepmother had given her at her wedding. The walls were bare and the place stripped, and they ate their food out of plain wooden bowls, the crude carved stuff of the markets. She said, dipping apiece of bread into the dish, \"Already this place looks as if a battle had swept over it!\"\n\n\"It seemed as well tome that everything should be sent ahead to Camelot,\" he said, \"and then we had the rumors of the Saxon landings and all's confusion. Your father is here, my love-no doubt you will want to greet him.\"\n\nLeodegranz was seated near, though not in the inner ring of those around Arthur. She came and kissed him, feeling his bony shoulders under her hands-always her father had been a big man to her, big and imposing, and now suddenly he seemed old and wasted.\n\n\"I told my lord Arthur he should not have sent you travelling about the countryside at this time,\" he said. \"Ah, yes, no doubt it was well done of Arthur that he wished to send you to his mother's deathbed, but he had a duty to his wife too, and Igraine has an unwedded daughter who should have been with her mother-where is the Duchess of Cornwall that she did not go?\"\n\n\"I do not know where Morgaine is,\" said Arthur. \"My sister is a woman grown, and her own mistress. She need not seek my leave to be here or there.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Aye, it is ever so with a king,\" said Leodegranz querulously, \"he is lord of all save his womenfolk." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Alienor is the same, and I have three daughters, not even old enough to marry, and they think they rule my household! You will see them at Camelot, Gwenhwyfar. I have sent them therefor safekeeping, and the oldest, Isotta, is old enough-you might wish to make her one of your ladies, your own half-sister? And since I have no sons living, I want you to ask Arthur to marry her to one of his best knights when she is old enough.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar shook her head in amazement at the thought of Isotta, her half-sister-old enough to come to court? Well, she had been almost seven years old when Gwenhwyfar was married-now she must be a great girl of twelve or thirteen. Elaine had been no older when she was brought to Caerleon. No doubt, if she asked, Arthur would give Isotta to one of his best knights, Gawaine perhaps, or possibly-since Gawaine would be king of Lothian someday-to Gaheris, who was the King's own cousin. She said, \"I am certain that Arthur and I together will find someone for my sister.\"\n\n\"Lancelet is still unwed,\" suggested Leodegranz, \"and so is Duke Marcus of Cornwall. Though no doubt it would be more suitable if Marcus married the lady Morgaine and they combined their claims, then would the lady have someone to keep her castle and defend her lands. And, though I understand the lady is one of the damsels of the Lady of the Lake, no doubt Duke Marcus could tame her.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar smiled at the thought of Morgaine being tamely married to someone they thought suitable. And then she grew angry. Why should Morgaine please herself? No other woman was allowed to do her own will, even Igraine who was mother to the King had been married as her elders thought good. Arthur should exert his authority and get Morgaine properly married before she disgraced them all! Conveniently Gwenhwyfar stifled the memory that when Arthur had spoken of marrying Morgaine to his friend Lancelet, she had objected. Ah, I was selfish... I cannot have him myself, and I grudge him a wife. No, she told herself, she would be happy to see Lancelet married if the girl was suitable and virtuous!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Leodegranz asked, \"I thought the Duchess of Cornwall was among your ladies-?\"\n\n\"She was,\" Gwenhwyfar said, \"but she left us some years ago to dwell with her kinswoman and has not returned.\" And it occurred to her once again: where was Morgaine? Not in Avalon, not in Lothian with Morgause, not in Tintagel with Igraine-she might be in Less Britain, or on a pilgrimage to Rome, or in the fairy country, or in Hell itself for all Gwenhwyfar knew to the contrary. This could not goon-Arthur had aright to know where dwelt his nearest kinswoman, now that his mother was dead! But surely Morgaine would have come to her mother's deathbed if she could?\n\nShe went back to her place beside Arthur. Lancelet and the King were drawing with the tips of their daggers on the wooden boards before them, while they ate absentmindedly out of the same dish. Biting her lip-indeed she might as well have stayed in Tintagel for all the difference it made to Arthur that she was there or not-she would have withdrawn to a bench with her ladies, but Arthur looked up at her and smiled, holding out his arm to her.\n\n\"Nay, my dear one, I meant not to drive you away-I must indeed talk with my captain of horse, but there is room for you here, too.\" He beckoned to one of the servers. \"Bring another plate of meat for my lady. Lancelet and I have made a wreck of this dish-there is fresh-baked bread too, somewhere, if any of it is left, though with Cai not here the kitchens are in chaos.\"\n\n\"I think I have eaten enough,\" Gwenhwyfar said, leaning a little against his shoulder, and he patted her absently. She could feel Lancelet, warm and solid, on the other side, and she felt secure and safe between them. Arthur leaned forward, one hand still stroking her hair, the other holding the dagger where he was sketching." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Look, can we bring the horses up this way? We can travel fast, and leave the wagons with provisions and baggage to come around on the flat country, but men with horses can cut across country and march light and fast-Cai has had men baking hard journey-bread for the armies and stockpiling it these three years since Celidon Wood. It is likely they will land here-\" He pointed to a spot on the rough map he had made. \"Leodegranz, Uriens, come here and look at this-\"\n\nHer father came, and with him another man, slight and dark and dapper, though his hair was greying and his face lined.\n\n\"King Uriens,\" Arthur said, \"I greet you as my father's friend and mine. Have you met my lady Gwenhwyfar?\"\n\nUriens bowed. His voice was pleasant and melodious. \"My pleasure to speak with you, madam. When the country is more settled, I will bring my wife, if I may, to present to you at Camelot.\"\n\n\"I shall be pleased,\" Gwenhwyfar said, feeling that her voice was insincere-never had she learned how to speak these polite platitudes so that they carried any conviction.\n\n\"It will not be this summer, we have other work to do,\" said Uriens. He bent over Arthur's rough map. \"In Ambrosius\" time we led an army upcountry this way-we had not so many horses, save with the baggage wagons, but one could bring them up and cut across ground here. You must keep out of swamps as you go to the south of the Summer Country-\"\n\n\"I had hoped not to climb the fells,\" said Lancelet.\n\nUriens shook his head. \"With that great body of horse, it is better.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"On those hills, horses slip on stone and break their legs,\" Lancelet argued.\n\n\"Better even that, sir Lancelet, than have men and horses and wagons all bemired-better fells than swamps,\" said Uriens. \"Look, here lies the old Roman wall...\"\n\n\"I cannot see where so many have scribbled,\" said Lancelet impatiently. He went to the fireplace and plucked out along stick, shook out the fire on the end, and began drawing on the floor with the charcoaled stick. \"Look, here lies the Summer Country and here the Lakes and the Roman wall.... We have, say, three hundred horse, and here two hundred-\"\n\n\"So many indeed?\" Uriens demanded incredulously. \"The legions of Caesar had no more!\"\n\n\"Seven years we have been training them, and training mounted soldiers in their use,\" said Lancelet.\n\n\"Thanks to you, dear cousin,\" Arthur said.\n\nLancelet turned and smiled. \"Thanks to you, my king, who had vision to see what we could do with them.\"\n\n\"Some soldiers still know not how to fight on horseback,\" said Uriens. \"As for me, I fought well enough leading men on foot-\"\n\n\"And that is as well,\" said Arthur good-naturedly, \"for we have not horses for every man who wishes to fight mounted, nor saddles and stirrups and harness for all, though I have had every harnessmaker in my kingdom working as fast as he might, and hard enough work I've had to levy enough money to pay for all this, and men thinking me a greedy tyrant.\" He chuckled, patting Gwenhwyfar on the back and saying, \"All this time I have had hardly enough gold of my own to buy my queen silks for her embroidery! It has all gone to horseflesh and smiths and saddlers!\" Suddenly the gaiety was gone and he was serious, almost frowning. \"And now is the great test of all that we have done and all that we can do-the Saxons this time area flood, my friends. If we cannot stop them, with less than half their numbers, there will be none fed in this country but ravens and wolves!\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "In your role as the author's collaborator, continue the tale.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 6" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"On those hills, horses slip on stone and break their legs,\" Lancelet argued.\n\n\"Better even that, sir Lancelet, than have men and horses and wagons all bemired-better fells than swamps,\" said Uriens. \"Look, here lies the old Roman wall...\"\n\n\"I cannot see where so many have scribbled,\" said Lancelet impatiently. He went to the fireplace and plucked out along stick, shook out the fire on the end, and began drawing on the floor with the charcoaled stick. \"Look, here lies the Summer Country and here the Lakes and the Roman wall.... We have, say, three hundred horse, and here two hundred-\"\n\n\"So many indeed?\" Uriens demanded incredulously. \"The legions of Caesar had no more!\"\n\n\"Seven years we have been training them, and training mounted soldiers in their use,\" said Lancelet.\n\n\"Thanks to you, dear cousin,\" Arthur said.\n\nLancelet turned and smiled. \"Thanks to you, my king, who had vision to see what we could do with them.\"\n\n\"Some soldiers still know not how to fight on horseback,\" said Uriens. \"As for me, I fought well enough leading men on foot-\"\n\n\"And that is as well,\" said Arthur good-naturedly, \"for we have not horses for every man who wishes to fight mounted, nor saddles and stirrups and harness for all, though I have had every harnessmaker in my kingdom working as fast as he might, and hard enough work I've had to levy enough money to pay for all this, and men thinking me a greedy tyrant.\" He chuckled, patting Gwenhwyfar on the back and saying, \"All this time I have had hardly enough gold of my own to buy my queen silks for her embroidery! It has all gone to horseflesh and smiths and saddlers!\" Suddenly the gaiety was gone and he was serious, almost frowning. \"And now is the great test of all that we have done and all that we can do-the Saxons this time area flood, my friends. If we cannot stop them, with less than half their numbers, there will be none fed in this country but ravens and wolves!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That is the advantage of horse troops,\" said Lancelet gravely. \"Armed and mounted men can fight five, ten-it maybe twenty times their number. We shall see, and if we have guessed right, we shall stop the Saxons once and for all time. If we have not-well, we shall die defending our own homes and the lands we love, and our women and little children.\"\n\n\"Aye,\" said Arthur softly, \"that we would. For what else have we worked since we were tall enough to hold a sword, Galahad?\"\n\nHe smiled, his rare, sweet smile, and Gwenhwyfar thought, with a stab of pain, Never does he smile at me like that. Yet, when he hears what news I bear him, why then...\n\nFora moment Lancelet answered the smile, then he sighed. \"I had a dispatch from my half-brother Lionel-Ban's eldest son. He said he would set sail in three days-no\"-he stopped, counting on his fingers-\"he is already at sea-the messenger was delayed. He has forty ships and he hopes to drive the Saxon ships, or as many as he may, onto the rocks, or south to the Cornish coast, where they cannot land their troops aright. Then when he lands he will march his men to where we are gathering. I should send a messenger with a place for rendezvous.\" He pointed to the improvised map on the stones.\n\nThen there was a little stirring of voices at the door of the room, and a tall, thin, greying man strode in through the scattered benches and trestle tables. Gwenhwyfar had not seen Lot of Lothian since before the battle of Celidon Wood.\n\n\"Why, I see Arthur's hall as I never thought to see it, bare without his Round Table-what, Arthur, cousin, playing at knucklebones on the floor with all your schoolfellows?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"The Round Table is already gone to Camelot, kinsman,\" said Arthur, rising, \"with all my other furniture and women's gear-you see here an armed camp, waiting only for daybreak to send the last of the women to Camelot. Most of the women and all of the children are already gone.\" Lot bowed to Gwenhwyfar and said, in his smooth voice, \"Why, then, Arthur's hall will be barren indeed. But is it safe for women and children to travel with the land rising for war?\"\n\n\"The Saxons have not yet come so far inland,\" said Arthur, \"and there is no danger if they goat once. I must tell fifty of my men-and a thankless job it is-to stay out of the field, and guard Camelot. Queen Morgause is well where she is, in Lothian-I am glad my sister is with her!\"\n\n\"Morgaine?\" Lot shook his head. \"She has not been in Lothian these many years! Well, well, well. I wonder where she may have gone? And with whom? I thought always there was more to that young woman than I ever could see! But why to Camelot, my lord Arthur?\"\n\n\"It is easily defended,\" said Arthur. \"Fifty men can hold it till Christ should come again. If I left the women at Caerleon here, I would need to hold back two hundred men or more from the battle. I know not why my father made Caerleon his stronghold-I had hoped before the Saxons came again we would begone with all our court to Camelot, and then they would have to march across Britain's width to come at us, and we could give them battle on afield of our own choosing. If we led them into the swamps and lakes of the Summer Country, where the land is never the same two years in a row, why then mud and swamps could do some of the work of bow and arrow and axe for us, and the little folk of Avalon finish them off with their elf-arrows.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"They will come to do that anyway,\" said Lancelet, rising on his knees from studying the map on the stones. \"Avalon has already sent three hundred, and more will come, they say. And the Merlin said when last I spoke with him that they had sent riders into your country too, my lord Uriens, so that all the Old People who dwell in your hills may come to fight at our side. So we have the legion, horse soldiers fighting on the flat ground, every horseman armored and armed with spears, good fora dozen or more Saxons. Then we have multitudes of foot soldiers, bowmen and swordsmen, who can fight in the hills and valleys. And then we have many of the men of the Tribes, with pikes and axes, and the Old People, who can fight from ambush and drop men with their elf-arrows unseen. I think we could thus meet every Saxon from all of Gaul and the shores of the continent!\"\n\n\"And we will have to do just that,\" said Lot. \"I have fought the Saxons since the days of Ambrosius-so has Uriens here-and never have we had to face anything like the army coming against us now.\"\n\n\"Since I was crowned, I have known this day was coming-the Lady of the Lake told me this when she gave me Excalibur. And now she is sending for all the folk of Avalon to rally beneath the banner of the Pendragon.\"\n\n\"We will all be there,\" said Lot, but Gwenhwyfar shuddered, and Arthur said solicitously, \"My dear one, you have been riding all the day, and the day before, and you must set forth again at daybreak. May I call your women to take you away to bed?\"\n\nShe shook her head, twisting her hands together in her lap. \"No, I am not weary, no-Arthur, it seems no proper thing for the pagans of Avalon, ruled by sorcery, to fight on the side of a Christian king! And when you rally them under that pagan banner-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet asked gently, \"My queen, would you have the folk of Avalon sit and watch their homes fall into the hands of the Saxon? Britain is their land too-they will fight even as we do, to hold our land against the barbarians. And the Pendragon is their sworn king.\"\n\n\"It is that I do not like,\" said Gwenhwyfar, trying to make her voice steady so that she did not sound like a little girl raising her voice in the men's council. After all, she told herself, Morgause is accepted as one of Lot's councillors, and Viviane never stinted to speak of matters of state! \"I like it not that we and the folk of Avalon should fight on the same side. This battle shall be the stand of civilized men, followers of Christ, descendants of Rome, against those who know not our God. The Old People are of the enemy, as much as the Saxons, and this will not be a proper Christian land until all those folk are dead or fled into their hills, and their demon gods with them! And I like it not, Arthur, that you should raise a pagan banner for your standard. You should fight, like Uriens, under the cross of Christ so that we may tell friend from foe!\"\n\nLancelet looked shocked. \"Am I also your enemy, Gwenhwyfar?\" She shook her head. \"You area Christian, Lancelet.\"\n\n\"My mother is that same wicked Lady of the Lake you condemn for her witchcraft,\" he said, \"and I myself was fostered in Avalon, and the Old People are my own people. My own father, who is a Christian king, made also the Great Marriage with the Goddess for his land!\" He looked hard and angry.\n\nArthur laid his hand on the hilt of Excalibur, in its scabbard of crimson velvet and gold. The sight of his hand laid on the magical symbols of that scabbard, and the serpents twined round his wrist, made Gwenhwyfar turn her eyes away. She said, \"How will God give us the victory, if we will not put away from us all the symbols of sorcery and fight beneath his cross?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Why, there's something to what the Queen says,\" Uriens said, conciliating, \"but I bear my eagles in the name of my fathers and of Rome.\"\n\nLeodegranz said, \"I offer to you the banner of the cross, my lord Arthur, if you will. You bear it rightly for your queen's sake.\"\n\nArthur shook his head. Only the high flush in his cheekbones told Gwenhwyfar that he was angry. \"I swore to fight beneath the royal banner of the Pendragon, and so shall I door die. I am no tyrant. Whoever wishes to do so may bear the cross of Christ on his shield, but the Pendragon banner stands in token that all the folk of Britain-Christian, Druid, Old People too-shall fight together. Even as the dragon is overall the beasts, so the Pendragon is overall the people! All, I say!\"\n\n\"And the eagles of Uriens and the Great Raven of Lothian shall fight beside the dragon,\" said Lot, rising. \"Is Gawaine not here, Arthur? I would have a word with my son, and I thought he was ever at your side!\"\n\n\"I miss him as much as you, Uncle,\" said Arthur. \"I know not whereto turn without Gawaine at my back, but I had to send him on a message to Tintagel, for none can ride so swiftly.\"\n\n\"Oh, you have plenty to guard you,\" said Lot sourly. \"I see Lancelet nevermore than a step or three from your side, ready to fill the empty place.\"\n\nLancelet flushed, but he said smoothly, \"It is always so, kinsman, all of Arthur's Companions strive with one another for the honor of being the closest to the King, and when Gawaine is here, even Cai who is Arthur's foster-brother and I who am Queen's champion must take a place further off.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Arthur turned back to Gwenhwyfar and said, \"Now indeed, my queen, you must go to rest. This council may goon far into the night, and you must be ready to ride at daybreak.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar clenched her hands. This onetime, this one. time let me have courage to speak.... She said clearly, \"No. No, my lord, I do not ride at daybreak, not to Camelot or to anywhere else on the face of this earth.\"\n\nArthur's cheeks flushed again with that high color which told her he was angry. \"Why, how's this, madam? You cannot delay when there is war in the land. I would willingly give you a day or two of rest before you ride, but we must make haste to get you all to safety before the Saxons come. I tell you, Gwenhwyfar, when the morning comes, your horse and gear will be ready. If you cannot ride you may travel in a litter or be carried in a chair, but ride you shall.\"\n\n\"I shall not!\" she said fiercely. \"And you cannot force me, not unless you set me on my horse and tie me there!\"\n\n\"God forbid I should have to do so,\" Arthur said. \"But what is this, lady?\" He was troubled, yet trying to keep his voice light and humorous. \"Why, all those legions of men out there obey my word, am Ito have mutiny at my own hearth fire and from my own wife?\"\n\n\"Your men may all obey your word,\" she said desperately. \"They have not my reason for staying here! I will stay with no more than one waiting-woman and a midwife, my lord, but I will ride nowhere-not so far as to the banks of the river-before our son is born!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There, I have said it... here before all these men....\n\nAnd Arthur, hearing, understood, and instead of looking overjoyed, seemed only dismayed. He shook his head, then said, \"Gwenhwyfar-\" and stopped.\n\nLot chuckled and said, \"Are you breeding, madam? Why, congratulations! But that need not stop you from travelling. Morgause was everyday in the saddle, till she was too big for her horse to carry her, while no one would know as yet that you were with child. Our midwives say that fresh air and exercise are healthy fora breeding woman, and when my own favorite mare is in foal, I ride her till six weeks before she drops the foal!\"\n\n\"I am not a mare,\" said Gwenhwyfar coldly, \"and twice I have miscarried. Would you expose me again to that, Arthur?\"\n\n\"Yet you cannot stay here. This place cannot be properly defended,\" said Arthur distractedly, \"and we may march outwith the army at anytime! Nor is it fair to ask your women to stay with you and risk being caught by the Saxons. I am certain it will not harm you, dear wife, there were pregnant women with those who left for Camelot last week-and you cannot stay herewith all your women gone, it will bean armed soldier's camp, no more, my Gwen!\"\n\nGwenhwyfar looked at her ladies. \"Will not one of you stay with her queen?\"\n\n\"I will stay with you, cousin, if Arthur permits,\" said Elaine. And Meleas said, \"I will stay, if my lord does not mind, though our son is already at Camelot-\"\n\n\"No, Meleas, you must go to your child,\" Elaine said. \"I am her kinswoman and I can endure anything Gwenhwyfar can endure, even to live in an armed camp with the men.\" She came and stood beside Gwenhwyfar, holding her hand. \"But could you not travel in a litter? Camelot is so much safer.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Lancelet got up and came to Gwenhwyfar." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He bent over her hand and said in a low voice, \"My lady, I beg you to go with the other women. This countryside may all be in ruin within a matter of days, when the Saxons come. In Camelot you are near to your father's country. My own mother dwells in Avalon, within a day's journey-she is a notable healer woman and midwife, and I am sure she would come to you and care for you, or even stay to be with you when the babe is born. If I send to my mother with a message to come to you, will you go?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar bent her head, fighting not to cry. Once again I must do as I am bid, like any woman, no matter what I want! Now even Lancelet had joined into get her to do what she was told. She remembered the journey here from the Summer Country-even with Igraine at hand she had been terrified, and all this day she had ridden across the dreadful moors from Tintagel-now she was safe within walls and it seemed to her that she would never again be willing to leave their shelter.\n\nPerhaps, when she was stronger, when her son was safe in her arms... then, perhaps she could dare that journey, but not now... and Lancelet could offer her as a gift the company of that evil sorceress his mother! How could he think she would let such a sorceress near her son? Arthur might contaminate himself with vows and links to Avalon, but her son should never be touched by that pagan evil.\n\n\"It is kind of you, Lancelet,\" she said stubbornly, \"but I shall go nowhere until my son is born.\"\n\n\"Even if you were to betaken to Avalon itself?\" Arthur asked. \"You and our son would be safer there than anywhere in this world.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She shivered and crossed herself. \"God and Mary Virgin forbid!\" she whispered. \"I would as soon go into the fairy country itself!\"\n\n, \"Gwenhwyfar, listen tome-\" he began urgently, then sighed in defeat, and she knew she had won. \"Have it as you will. If the danger of travel seems greater to you than the danger of remaining here, then God forbid I should force you to travel....\"\n\nGaheris said wrathfully, \"Arthur, will you let her do this? I say to you, you should bundle heron to her horse and send her forth whether she will, or not! My king, will you listen like this to a woman's raving?\"\n\nArthur shook his head wearily. \"Peace, cousin,\" he said, \"it is easy to see you are no married man. Gwenhwyfar, do as you will. Elaine may remain with you, and one serving-woman and a midwife and your priest, but no more. Everyone else must ride at daybreak. And now you must go to your chamber, Gwen, I have no more time for this!\"\n\nAnd Gwenhwyfar, dutifully raising her cheek for his dutiful kiss, had no sense that she had won a victory.\n\nTHE OTHER WOMEN set forth at daybreak. Meleas begged to stay with the Queen, but Griflet would not have it. \"Elaine has neither husband nor child,\" he said. \"Let her stay. Yet if I were King Pellinore I would not let my daughter remain, queen or no. You shall go, my lady.\" And Gwenhwyfar fancied that the look he gave her was one of scorn.\n\nAnd Arthur made it clear to her that the main part of the castle was now the army camp, and she must keep to her chambers with Elaine and the serving-women. Most of her furniture had been sent to Camelot; abed was brought up from the guest chamber, and she slept in it with Elaine. Arthur spent his nights in the camp with the men, sending to inquire for her once a day, but she rarely saw him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "At first she thought everyday that she would see them march out to do battle with the Saxons, or that the battle would sweep over them here, but day followed day and then week came after week and she heard no news. Solitary riders and messengers came and went, and Gwenhwyfar could see more armies gathering, but immured in her chamber and the tiny garden behind it, she heard only such scattered bits of news as her servant and the midwife could bring, much garbled and mostly gossip. The time hung heavy over her; she was queasy in the morning and wished for nothing but to lie in bed, though later she felt well and would pace the garden restlessly, with nothing to do but make pictures in her mind of the marauding Saxons off the coast, and think of her child.... She would have liked to sew on baby clothes, but she had no wool to spin and the big loom had gone already.\n\nHowever, she had the small loom, and the silks and spun wool and embroidery gear which had gone with her to Tintagel, and she began to plan the weaving of a banner.... Once Arthur had promised her that when she gave him a son she might ask him for whatever gift was in his power to give, and she had it in mind that on that day she would ask him to put aside the pagan banner of the Pendragon and raise Christ's cross. That would make all this land under the High King a Christian land, and Arthur's legion a holy army under the protection of Mary the Virgin.\n\nIt was most beautiful as she planned it-blue, with gold thread, and her priceless crimson-dyed silks for the mantle of the Virgin. She had no other occupation, so she sewed at it from morning tonight, and with Elaine to help her, it grew swiftly under her fingers. And into every stitch of this banner shall I weave my prayers that Arthur shall be safe, and this a Christian land from Tintagel to Lothian...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "One afternoon the Merlin came to visit her, Taliesin the venerable. She hesitated-was it right she should have that old pagan and demon worshipper near to her at such a time as this, when she bore Arthur's son, who would one day be the king of this Christian land? But looking at the old man's kindly eyes, she recalled that this was Igraine's father and would be great-grandfather to her babe.\n\n\"May the Eternal bless you, Gwenhwyfar,\" he said, spreading out his arms in blessing. She made the sign of the cross, then wondered if he would be offended, but he seemed to take it simply as an exchange of blessings.\n\n\"How do you, lady, in this close confinement?\" he said, looking around the room. \"Why, you might be dungeoned here! You would be better in Camelot, or in Avalon, or on the isle at Ynis Witrin-you went to school therewith the nuns, did you not? And there, at least, you would have had fresh air and exercise! This room is like to a byre!\"\n\n\"I have air enough in the garden,\" said Gwenhwyfar, resolving that the bedding should be aired that very day and that the serving-woman should air and sweep the room which was littered with their possessions-it was too small for four women.\n\n\"Then make certain, my child, that you walk everyday in the fresh air, even if it is raining-air is medicine for all ills,\" he said. \"I can well believe that you are dull here. No, child, I did not come to reproach you,\" he added gently. \"Arthur told me your happy news, and I rejoice for you, as do we all. And I especially-not many men live so long as to look on the face of their great-grandchildren.\" His creased old face seemed to glow with benevolence. \"If there is anything I can do for you, you must command me, lady. Are they sending you suitable fresh food, or only soldier's rations?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar assured him that she had everything she could wish for-everyday a basket of the finest provisions to be had reached her-though she did not tell him she had little wish for food.\n\nShe told him of Igraine's death and that she lay buried in Tintagel, and that Igraine's last act had been to tell her of her child. Of the Sight she said little, but she did ask, looking at the old man with troubled eyes, \"Sir, do you know where dwells Morgaine, that she did not come even to her mother's deathbed?\"\n\nHe shook his head slowly. \"I am sorry, I know not.\"\n\n\"But this is scandalous, that Morgaine should not let her kin know whither she has gone!\"\n\n\"It maybe that-as some of the priestesses of Avalon do-she has gone on some magical quest, or secluded herself to seek vision,\" Taliesin ventured, and he too looked troubled. \"In that case I would not have been told, but I think, if she were in Avalon, where my own daughter dwells with the priestesses, I would have known. I know not.\" He sighed. \"Morgaine is a woman grown, and she need not seek leave of any man to come and go.\"\n\nIt would serve Morgaine right, thought Gwenhwyfar, if she came to grief for her own stubbornness and the godless way in which she did her own will! She clenched her fists and did not answer the Druid, looking down so that he would not see her anger... he thought well of her, she would not have him think otherwise of her. Nor did he notice, for Elaine was showing him the banner.\n\n\"See, this is how we spend our prisoned days, good father.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It grows swiftly,\" said the Merlin, smiling. \"I see well that there is no time-what is it your priests say, the Devil finds work for the idle-you have left no place for the Devil to do his work here, you areas busy as a hive of bees, you two. Already I can seethe beautiful design.\"\n\n\"And as I wove it, I prayed,\" said Gwenhwyfar defiantly. \"With every stitch I wove a prayer that Arthur and the cross of Christ may triumph over the Saxons and their pagan Gods! Will you not rebuke me then, Lord Merlin, that I do this when you bid Arthur fight under their pagan banner?\"\n\nThe Merlin said mildly, \"Prayer is never wasted, Gwenhwyfar. Do you think we know nothing of prayer? When Arthur was given his great sword Excalibur, it was sheathed in a scabbard into which a priestess worked prayers and spells for safety and protection, and she fasted and prayed for five days all the time she worked upon it. And no doubt you have taken note that even though he is wounded, he sheds but little blood.\"\n\n\"I would have him protected with Christ, not sorcery,\" said Gwenhwyfar hotly, and the old man smiled and said, \"God is one and there is but one God-all else is but the way the ignorant seek to put Gods into a form they can understand, like the image of your Virgin there, lady. Nothing befalls on this world without the blessing of the One, who will give us victory or defeat as God shall ordain. Dragon and Virgin alike are the signs of man's appeal to what is higher than we.\"\n\n\"But would you not be angry if the Pendragon banner was torn down and the standard of the Virgin raised over our legion?\" asked Gwenhwyfar scornfully." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He stood close to her, reaching out a wrinkled hand to caress the brilliant silks. \"Such a thing of beauty as this is,\" he said gently, \"and made with such love, how could I possibly condemn it? But there are those who love their Pendragon standard as you love the cross of Christ-would you deny them their holy things, madam? Those of Avalon-Druid, priest and priestess-would know that the banner is but a symbol, and the symbol is nothing, while the reality is all. But the little folk, no, they would not understand, and they must have their dragon as a symbol of the King's protection.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar thought of the little people of Avalon and the far hills of Wales who had come bearing bronze axes and even little arrows of flint, their bodies smeared crudely with paint. She shuddered in horror that a folk so wild and savage should fight at the side of a Christian king.\n\nThe Merlin saw her shivering and mistook its cause. \"It is dank and chill here,\" he said. \"You must go out more into the sunlight.\" But then understanding touched him and he put his arm around the woman at his side and said gently, \"Dear child, you must remember-this country is for all men, whatever their Gods, and we fight against the Saxons not because they will not worship our Gods but because they wish to burn and ravage our lands and take all that we have for themselves. We fight to defend the peace of these lands, lady, Christian and pagan alike, and that is why so many have flocked to Arthur's side. Would you have him a tyrant who put the souls of men in slavery to his own God, as not even the Caesars dared to do?\"\n\nBut she only shivered, and Taliesin said he must go, but that she should send him word if she had need of anything." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Elaine asked, \"Is Kevin the Bard in the castle, Lord Merlin?\"\n\n\"Yes, I think so-I should have thought of that. I shall send him to come and play his harp for you ladies while you are cloistered here.\"\n\n\"We would willingly have him,\" said Elaine, \"but what I was asking is, might we borrow his harp... or yours, Lord Druid?\"\n\nHe hesitated, and said, \"Kevin would not lend his harp-My lady is a jealous mistress.\" He smiled. \"And as for mine, it is consecrated to the Gods and I may let no other touch it. But the lady Morgaine did not take her harp with her when she went away; it is in her rooms. Shall I have it sent here, lady Elaine? Can you play it?\"\n\n\"Not well,\" said Elaine, \"but I know enough of harp music to do it no harm, and it would give our hands something to do when we are weary of stitching.\"\n\n\"Yours,\" said Gwenhwyfar. \"I have always thought it unseemly fora woman to play on the harp.\"\n\n\"So be it, unseemly then,\" said Elaine, \"but I think I shall go mad shut away here if I have nothing to do, and there is none to see me, even if I dance naked like Salome before Herod!\"\n\nGwenhwyfar giggled, then looked scandalized-what would the Merlin think? But the old man laughed heartily. \"I will send you Morgaine's harp, lady, and you may indulge in your unseemly pastime-though indeed I see nothing unseemly in the making of music!\"\n\nThat night Gwenhwyfar dreamed that Arthur stood beside her, but that the serpents on his wrists came alive and crawled to her banner, leaving it all cold with their slime, and fouled.... She woke gasping and retching, and that day she had no strength to leave her bed. Arthur came that afternoon to see her, and stood distraught beside her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I cannot see that this confinement does you any good, lady,\" he said. \"I wish you were safe in Camelot! I have had word from the kings of Less Britain-they have driven thirty Saxon ships onto the rocks, and we will be marching out in ten days more.\" He bit his lip. \"I would this were over, and we all safe at Camelot. Pray to God, Gwen, that we come safe there.\" He sat on the bed beside her, and she took his hand, but one of her fingers touched the serpents on his wrist and she drew it back with a gasp of dismay.\n\n\"What is it, Gwen?\" he whispered, drawing her into his arms. \"My poor girl, being shut up here has made you ill... I was afraid of this!\"\n\nShe fought to control her tears. \"I dreamed-I dreamed-oh, Arthur,\" she begged, sitting bolt upright in bed and throwing back the covers, \"I cannot bear to think of it, that you would let that foul dragon coverall, as it was in my dream.... Look what I have made for you!\" Barefoot, she drew him with both hands to the loom. \"See, it is near finished, in three days I could have it ready-\"\n\nHe put his arm round her and held her close. \"I wish it did not mean so much to you, Gwenhwyfar. I am sorry. I will carry it to battle beside the Pendragon banner, if you will, but I cannot abandon the vow I have sworn.\"\n\n\"God will punish you if you keep avow you have made to pagan folk and not to him,\" she cried. \"He will punish us both-\"\n\nHe put away her clinging hands. \"My poor girl, you are sick and wretched, and no wonder, in this place. And now, alas, it is too late to send you away even if you would go, there maybe Saxon bands between here and Camelot. Try to becalm, my love,\" he said, and went toward the door. She ran after him, holding to his arm." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You are not so angry-?\"\n\n\"Angry? When you are ill and overwrought?\" He kissed her brow. \"But we will not speak of this again, Gwenhwyfar. And now I must go, I am expecting a messenger who may come at any instant. I will send Kevin to play for you. His music will cheer you.\" He kissed her again and went away, and Gwenhwyfar went back to the banner and began to work at it in a frenzy.\n\nKevin came late the next day, dragging his misshapen body on a stick; his harp was hitched over one shoulder, giving him more than ever the look of some monstrous hunchback in silhouette against the door. It seemed to Gwenhwyfar that his nose wrinkled in distaste, and suddenly she could seethe room through his eyes, cluttered with the daily things of four women, the air not overfresh. He raised his hand in the Druid blessing and Gwenhwyfar flinched-she could accept this from the venerable Taliesin, but from Kevin it filled her with dread, as if he would bewitch her and her babe with pagan sorcery; secretly she signed herself with the cross, and wondered if he saw.\n\nElaine went to him and said courteously, \"Let me help you with the harp, Master Harper.\"\n\nHe shrugged as if toward her away, though his smooth singer's voice was perfectly civil. \"I thank you, but no one may touch My Lady. If I carry her with my own hands when I can hardly drag myself along on a stick, do you not think there is a reason, madam?\"\n\nElaine bent her head like a scolded child and said, \"I meant no harm, sir.\"\n\n\"Of course not, how could you know?\" he said, and twisted painfully, or so it seemed to Gwenhwyfar, to unsling his harp and set it on the floor." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Are you comfortable, Master Harper? Will you have a cup of wine to soothe your throat before you sing?\" Gwenhwyfar asked, and he accepted politely enough. Then, noting the banner of the cross on the loom, he said to Elaine, \"You are King Pellinore's daughter, are you not, madam? Are you weaving a banner for your father to carry into battle?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar said quickly, \"Elaine's hands worked as skillfully as mine, but the banner is for Arthur.\"\n\nHis rich voice was as detached as if he were admiring a child's first attempts to spin. \"It is beautiful, and will make a fair wall-hanging for Camelot when you go there, madam, but I am sure Arthur will carry the Pendragon banner as did his father before him. But ladies love not to speak of battles. Shall I play for you?\" He set his hands to the strings and began to play; Gwenhwyfar listened, spellbound, and her serving-woman crept to the door to listen too, aware of sharing a royal gift. He played fora longtime in the gathering dusk, and as she listened, Gwenhwyfar was borne away into a world where pagan or Christian made no difference, war or peace, but only the human spirit, flaming against the great darkness like an everburning torch. When the harp notes finally stilled, Gwenhwyfar could not speak, and she saw that Elaine was weeping softly in the silence.\n\nAfter a time she said, \"Words cannot say what you have given us, Master Harper. I can say only that I will remember it always.\"\n\nKevin's crooked smile seemed fora moment to mock her emotion and his own as he said, \"Madam, in music he who gives receives as much as he who hears.\" He turned to Elaine and added, \"I see you have the lady Morgaine's harp. You, then, know the truth of what I say.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "She nodded, but said, \"I am only the worst of beginners at music." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I love to play, but no one could find pleasure in hearing me-I am grateful to my companions for their forbearance while I struggle with the notes.\"\n\n\"That is not true, you know we enjoy hearing you,\" said Gwenhwyfar, and Kevin smiled and said, \"Perhaps the harp is the one instrument which cannot sound evil no matter how badly played-I wonder if that is why it is dedicated to the Gods?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar's lips tightened-must he spoil the delight of this hour by speaking of his infernal Gods? The man was, after all, a misshapen toad; without his music he would never be allowed to sit at any respectable board-somewhere she had heard that he was no more than a peasant's foundling brat. She would not offend him when he had come to give them pleasure, but she looked away; let Elaine chatter with him if she would. She stood up and went to the door. \"It is as hot inhere as the breath of Hell,\" she said irritably and flung it open.\n\nAcross the sky, darkening now, flamed spears of light, darting out of the north. Her cry brought Elaine and the serving-woman, and even Kevin, folding his harp tenderly into its covering, dragged himself heavily to the door.\n\n\"Oh, what is it, what does it portend?\" she cried.\n\nKevin said quietly, \"The Northmen say it is the flashing of spears in the country of the giants; when it is seen on earth, it portends a great battle. And sure enough, that is what we face now-a battle where Arthur's legion, madam, may determine, with the help of all the Gods, whether we live as civilized men or go into the darkness forever. You should have gone to Camelot, lady Gwenhwyfar. It is not right that the High King should be concerned now with women and babes.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She turned on him and flared, \"What would you know of women or babes-or of battles, Druid?\"\n\n\"Why, this would not be my first battle, my queen,\" he said equably. \"My Lady was from a king who gifted me for playing his war harps to his victory. Would you think I should have gone to safety with the maidens and the skirted eunuchs of the Christian priests? Not I, madam. Not even Taliesin, old as he is, will run from battle.\" Silence, and above them the northern lights flamed and flared. \"By your leave, my queen, I must go to my lord Arthur and speak with him and the Lord Merlin of what these lights portend for the battle which comes upon us.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Start Chapter" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar felt it like a sharp knife run through her belly. Even this malformed heathen might be with Arthur now, yet she, his wife, must lurk here out of sight, although she bore the hope of his kingdom! She had thought, if ever she bore Arthur's son, then he must give her place and show her great respect, not treat her still as that useless woman he had been forced to take as part of a dowry of horses! Yet here she was, packed off into a corner again because he could not be rid of her, and even her gallant banner thrust back at her unwanted.\n\nKevin said with swift concern, \"Are you ill, my queen? Lady Elaine, assist her!\" He held out a hand to Gwenhwyfar, but it was misshapen, a twisted wrist, and she saw the serpent coiling around it, tattooed therein blue... she recoiled sharply and struck out at him, hardly knowing what she did, so that Kevin, who was none too steady on his feet, lost his balance and fell heavily to the stone floor.\n\n\"Keep away from me,\" she cried out, gasping. \"Don't touch me, with your evil serpents-pagan, hell-bound, lay not your foul serpents on my babe-\"\n\n\"Gwenhwyfar!\" Elaine hurried to her, but instead of supporting Gwenhwyfar she bent solicitously over Kevin and gave him her hand to rise. \"Lord Druid, do not curse her-she is ill and she does not know what she does-\"\n\n\"Oh, do I not?\" Gwenhwyfar shrieked. \"Do you think I do not know how you all look at me-like a fool, as if I were deaf and dumb and blind? And you would calm me with kind words while you go behind the back of the priests to claim Arthur for pagan wickedness and heathendom, you who would give us over to the hands of the evil sorcerers.... Go from here, lest my babe be born deformed because I have looked on your vile face....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Kevin shut his eyes and the twisted hands clamped, but he turned quietly away and began laboriously hoisting his harp over his shoulder." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "He fumbled for his stick; Elaine handed it to him, and Gwenhwyfar heard her whisper, \"Forgive her, Lord Druid, she is ill and knows not-\"\n\nKevin's musical voice was harsh. \"I know that well, lady. Think you I have never heard such sweet words from women before this? I am sorry, I wished only to give you pleasure,\" he said, and Gwenhwyfar, her head hidden in her hands, heard the dragging hitch of his stick and his stumbling feet as he hauled himself painfully from the room. But even when he had gone she went on huddling with her arms over her head-ah, he had cursed her with those vile serpents, she could feel them stabbing and biting into her body, the spears of the flaring lights overhead were impaling her, the lights flaring in her brain.... She screamed and hid her face with her hands and fell, writhing, as the spears went through her... she came to herself a little as she heard Elaine cry out.\n\n\"Gwenhwyfar! Cousin, look at me, speak tome! Ah, may the holy Virgin help us.... Send for the midwife! Look, the blood-\"\n\n\"Kevin,\" Gwenhwyfar screamed, \"Kevin has cursed my child-\" and she drew herself up frantically, pain lashing through her, beating with her fists against the stonewall. \"Ah, God help me, send for the priest, the priest, perhaps he can takeaway this curse-\" and, ignoring the gushing of water and blood that now she could feel drenching her thighs, she dragged herself to the banner she had woven, signing herself with the cross again and again in a frenzy, before it all vanished in darkness and nightmare." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "IT WAS DAYS LATER that she understood she had been dangerously ill, that she had come near to bleeding to death when she miscarried the four-months child which was too small and weak to breathe.\n\nArthur. Now for certain he must hate me, I could not even bring his son to birth.... Kevin, it was Kevin who cursed me with his serpents.... She wandered in evil dreams of serpents and spears, and once when Arthur came to her side and tried to hold her head, she started away in terror from the serpents which seemed to writhe on his wrists.\n\nEven when she was out of danger, she did not recover her strength, but lay in a dreary apathy, unmoving, tears sliding down her face. She had not even the strength to wipe them away. No, it was folly to think Kevin had cursed her, that must have been a madness of her delirium... this was not the first child she had miscarried, and if there was any fault it washer own, for staying here where she could not have fresh air and fresh food and exercise and the company of her ladies.\n\nHer house priest came to her, and he too agreed that it was madness to think that Kevin had cursed her.... God would not use the hands of a pagan priest to chastise her. \"You must not be so quick to assign blame to others,\" he said severely. \"If there is fault, it must be your own. Is there any unconfessed sin on your conscience, lady Gwenhwyfar?\"\n\nUnconfessed? No. For long ago she had confessed her love for Lancelet and been absolved, and she had striven to keep her thoughts only on her lawful lord. No, it could not be that... and yet she had failed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I could not persuade-I was not strong enough to persuade Arthur to lay aside his pagan serpents and the Pendragon banner,\" she said weakly. \"Would God punish my child for that?\"\n\n\"Only you know what lies on your conscience, lady. And speak not of punishment for the child... he is in the bosom of Christ... but it is you and Arthur being punished, if there is punishment, which,\" he added primly, \"I must not presume to say.\"\n\n\"What can I do to atone? What can I do that God may send Arthur a son for Britain?\"\n\n\"Have you truly done all you may to assure that Britain shall have a Christian king? Or do you hold back the words you know you must speak, because you wish to please your husband?\" the priest asked austerely. And when he had gone away, she lay looking at the banner. Every night now, she knew, the northern lights burned in the sky, in portent of the great battle that was to come; yet once, a Roman emperor had seen the sign of the cross in the sky, and the fate of all Britain had been changed. Could she but bring such a sign to Arthur...\n\n\"Come, help me getup,\" she said to her woman. \"I must finish the banner for Arthur to carry into battle.\"\n\nArthur came that night to her chambers, just as she set the last stitches to it, and the women were lighting the lamps.\n\n\"How is it with you now, my dear one? I am glad to see you up again, and well enough to work,\" he said, and kissed her. \"Dearest, you must not grieve so... no woman could bring a healthy child to birth under this strain, with the battle impending at any moment-I should have sent you to Camelot, indeed. We are young still, my Gwenhwyfar, God may yet send us many children.\" But she saw the vulnerable look on his face, and knew he shared her sorrow." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She clasped his hand and drew him down beside heron the bench where she sat before the banner." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Is it not fair?\" she said, and thought she sounded like a child begging for praise.\n\n\"It is very beautiful. I thought I had never seen so fine work as this\"-and he laid his hand on the crimson-worked scabbard of Excalibur that never left his side-\"but this is finer still.\"\n\n\"And I have woven prayers for you and your Companions into every stitch,\" she said, in entreaty. \" Arthur, listen tome-do you think, could it not be, God has punished us because he feels we are not fit to give this kingdom another king, you and I, unless we will vow ourselves to serve him faithfully, not in pagan ways but in the new way under Christ? All the forces of pagan evil are allied against us, and we must fight it with the cross.\n\nHe laid his handover hers and said, \"Come, dear love, this is folly. You know I serve God as best I may....\"\n\n\"But you still raise that pagan banner of serpents over your men,\" she cried, and he shook his head in distress.\n\n\"Dear love, I cannot break faith with the Lady of Avalon who set me on my throne-\"\n\n\"It was God, and no other, who set you on your throne,\" she said earnestly. \"Ah, Arthur, if you love me, do this, if you wish for God to send us another child! Do you not see how he has punished us by taking our son to himself?\"\n\n\"You must not speak so,\" he said firmly. \"To think God would do so is superstitious folly. I came to tell you at last the Saxons are massing, and we shall move to give them battle at Mount Badon! I would now that you were well enough to ride to Camelot, but it cannot be-not yet-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Ah, I know it well, I am only an encumbrance to you,\" she cried out bitterly. \"I was nevermore to you-it is a pity I did not die with my babe.\"\n\n\"No, no, you must not speak so,\" he said tenderly. \"I have every confidence that with my good sword Excalibur and all my Companions, we shall triumph. And you must pray for us night and day, my Gwenhwyfar.\" He rose and added, \"We will not march till daybreak. I will try to come and take leave of you this night before we march, and your father too, and Gawaine and perhaps Lancelet-he sent you greetings, Gwenhwyfar, he was very troubled when he heard you were so ill. Can you speak to them if they come?\"\n\nShe bent her head and said bitterly, \"I will do my king and my lord's will. Yes, let them come, though I wonder you trouble to ask my prayers-I cannot even persuade you to put away that pagan banner and raise the cross of Christ.... And no doubt God knows your heart, since God will not let you ride forth into battle believing that any son of yours shall rule this land, because you have not yet resolved to make this a Christian land....\"\n\nHe stopped and let her hand go, and she could feel him looking down at her. At last he bent and put his hand under his chin and raised her face to look at his. He said quietly, \"My dear lady, my own dear love, in God's name, believe you that?\"\n\nShe nodded, unable to speak, wiping her nose like a child on the sleeve of her gown.\n\n\"I tell you, dear lady, before God, I believe it not, that God works in such ways, nor that it matters so much what banner we carry. But if it matters thus to you-\" He paused and swallowed. \"Gwenhwyfar, I cannot bear to see you in such distress. If I bear this banner of Christ and the Virgin into battle over my troops, will you cease to mourn, and pray to God for me with your best heart?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "She looked up at him, transformed, her heart lifting with a wild joy." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Would he indeed do this for her? \"Oh, Arthur, I have prayed, I have prayed-\"\n\n\"Then,\" said Arthur, with a sigh, \"I swear it to you, Gwenhwyfar-I shall carry only your banner of Christ and the Virgin into battle, and no other sign shall be raised above my legion. So be it, amen.\" He kissed her, but Gwenhwyfar thought he looked very sad. She clasped his hands and kissed them, and for the first time, it seemed that the serpents on his wrists were nothing, mere faded pictures, and that she had indeed been mad to think they could have power to harm her or her child.\n\nHe called to his squire, who stood at the door of the room, to come and take the banner carefully and to raise it above their camp. \"For we march at dawn tomorrow,\" he said, \"and all must see my lady's banner with the Holy Virgin and the cross flying above the legion of Arthur.\"\n\nThe squire looked startled. \"Sir-my lord-what of the Pendragon banner?\"\n\nArthur said, \"Take it to the steward, and bid him lay it somewhere away. We march under the standard of God.\"\n\nThe squire did as Arthur said, and Arthur smiled at Gwenhwyfar, but there was little gladness in the smile. \"I will come to see you at sunset, with your father and some of our kin. We will dine here, and I will have my stewards bring food for us all. Elaine shall not be troubled with providing for so many. Until then, my dear wife,\" and he went away.\n\nIn the end the small dinner was held in one of the little halls, for Gwenhwyfar's chamber would not hold so many in comfort. Gwenhwyfar and Elaine put on the best gowns which had remained here at Caerleon and did their hair with ribbons; it was exciting to have some kind of festival after the grim confinement of the last weeks. The feast-though indeed it was not much better than army rations-was spread on trestle tables. Most of Arthur's older councillors had been sent to Camelot, including Bishop Patricius, but Taliesin the Merlin had been bidden to dine, and King Lot, and King Uriens of Wales, and Duke Marcus of Cornwall, and Lancelet's older half-brother, Lionel of Less Britain, Ban's oldest son and heir. Lancelet was there too, and he found a moment to come to Gwenhwyfar's side and kiss her hand, looking into her eyes with hopeless tenderness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Are you recovered, my lady? I was troubled for you.\" Undercover of the shadows, he kissed her, only a feather-brushing of soft lips against her temple.\n\nKing Leodegranz came too, scowling and fussing, to kiss her brow. \"I am sorry for your illness, my dear, and sorry you lost your child, but Arthur should have bundled you off to Camelot in a litter-that is how I would have handled Alienor, if she had gainsaid me,\" he scolded. \"And now, see, you have gained nothing by staying!\"\n\n\"You must not rebuke her,\" said Taliesin gently, \"she has suffered enough, my lord. If Arthur does not reproach her, it is not for her father to do so.\"\n\nElaine tactfully changed the subject. \"Who is yonder Duke Marcus?\"\n\n\"He is a cousin of Gorlois of Cornwall, who died before Uther took the throne,\" said Lancelet, \"and he has asked Arthur that if we win the day at Mount Badon, he shall have Cornwall by marrying our kinswoman Morgaine.\"\n\n\"That old man?\" said Gwenhwyfar, shocked.\n\n\"I think it would be as well to give Morgaine to an older man-she has not the kind of beauty to attract a younger one,\" said Lancelet. \"But she is clever and learned, and as it happens, Duke Marcus wants her not for himself but for his son Drustan, who is one of Cornwall's best knights. Arthur has made him one of his Companions now, on the eve of this battle. Though it's likely, if Morgaine returns not to court, that Drustan will wed with the daughter of the old Breton king Hoell-\" He chuckled. \"Court gossip of the making of marriages-is there nothing else to speak of?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Well,\" said Elaine boldly, \"when will you tell us of your marriage, sir Lancelet?\"\n\nHe inclined his head gallantly and said, \"On the day when your father offers you tome, lady Elaine, I will not refuse him. But it is likely your father will have you wed a wealthier man than I, and since my lady here is already wedded\"-he bowed to Gwenhwyfar but she saw the sadness in his eyes-\"I am in no haste to marry.\"\n\nElaine colored and cast down her eyes. Arthur said, \"I bade Pellinore to join us, but he would stay in the field with his men, seeing to the order of march. Some of the wagons are moving out already. Look-\" He pointed to the window. \"The northern spears blaze over us again!\"\n\nLancelet asked, \"Is Kevin the Harper not to be with us?\"\n\n\"I bade him come if he would,\" said Taliesin, \"but he said he would rather not offend the Queen with his presence. Have you quarrelled, Gwenhwyfar?\"\n\nShe cast down her eyes and said, \"I spoke harshly to him while I was ill and in great pain. If you see him, Lord Druid, will you say I would gladly beg his pardon?\" With Arthur at her side and her banner flying above Arthur's camp, she felt love and charity for everyone, even for the bard.\n\n\"I think he knows you spoke in the bitterness of your own ordeal,\" said Taliesin gently, and Gwenhwyfar wondered what the younger Druid had told him.\n\nAbruptly the door was thrust open and Lot and Gawaine strode into the room.\n\n\"Why, what's this, my lord Arthur?\" demanded Lot. \"The Pendragon banner we pledged ourselves to follow, it flies no moreover the camp, and there is great unrest among the Tribes-tell me, what have you done?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Arthur looked pale in the torchlight." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"No more than this, cousin-we area Christian folk, and we fight under the banner of Christ and the Virgin.\"\n\nLot scowled at him. \"The archers of Avalon are talking of leaving you, Arthur. Fly your banner of Christ, if your conscience so bids you, but raise the Pendragon banner at its side with the serpents of wisdom, or you will see your men scattered and not all of one heart as they have been through all this dreary waiting! Would you toss all that goodwill away? And the Pict folk with their elf-bolts have killed many a Saxon before this, and will again. I beg you, don't takeaway their banner and their allegiance like this!\"\n\nArthur smiled uneasily. \"Even as that emperor who saw the sign in the sky and said, \"In this sign shall we conquer,\" so shall we. You, Uriens, who raise the eagles of Rome, you know that tale.\"\n\n\"I do, my king,\" said Uriens, \"but is it wise to deny the folk of Avalon? Even as I, my lord Arthur, you wear the serpents at your wrists, in token of a land older than the cross.\"\n\n\"But it will be anew land if we win the victory,\" said Gwenhwyfar, \"and if we do not, it will not matter.\"\n\nLot turned as she spoke and looked on her with loathing. \"I might have known this was your doing, my queen.\"\n\nGawaine strode restlessly to the window and looked down at the camp. \"I see them moving about their fires, the little folk-from Avalon, and from your country, King Uriens. Arthur, cousin\"-and he went to the King-\"I beg of you, as the oldest of your Companions, put the Pendragon banner into the field for those who wish to follow it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Arthur hesitated, but a glance at Gwenhwyfar's shining eyes and he smiled at her and said, \"I have sworn it." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "If we survive the battle, our son shall reign over a land united under the cross. I shall compel no man's conscience, but as it is written in Holy Writ-\"as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.\"\"\n\nLancelet drew a deep breath. He stepped away from Gwenhwyfar. \"My lord and king, I remind you, I am Lancelet of the Lake, and I honor the Lady of Avalon. In her name, my king, who was your friend and benefactor, I beg this favor of you-let me carry the Pendragon banner into battle myself. Then your vow will be kept, and yet you will not be forsworn to Avalon.\"\n\nArthur hesitated. Gwenhwyfar shook her head imperceptibly, and Lancelet glanced at Taliesin. Taking the silence for consent, Lancelet was about to stride out of the room when Lot said, \"Arthur, no! There is enough talk now about Lancelet being your heir and favorite! If he bears the Pendragon into battle, then will they think you have appointed him to bear your banner and there will be division in the kingdom, your party under the cross and Lancelet's under the Pendragon.\"\n\nLancelet turned on Lot violently. \"You carry your own banner-so does Leodegranz, so does Uriens, so does Duke Marcus of Cornwall-why should I not bear a banner of Avalon?\"\n\n\"But the Pendragon banner is the banner of all Britain united under one Great Dragon,\" said Lot, and Arthur sighed and nodded. \"We must fight under one standard, and that standard is the cross. I am sorry to refuse you anything, cousin,\" Arthur said, and reached for Lancelet's hand, \"but this I may not allow.\"\n\nLancelet stood with his mouth taut, visibly holding in his anger, then went to the window. Lot, behind him, said, \"I heard it among my Northmen-they say these are the spears of the Saxons which we will face, and the wild swans are crying, and the ravens await us all....\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar stood with her hand tightly clasped in Arthur's. She said quietly, \"In this sign you shall conquer...\" and Arthur squeezed her hand.\n\n\"Though all the forces of Hell, and not the Saxons alone, were ranged against us, lady, with my Companions I cannot fail. And you at my side, Lancelet,\" Arthur said, and moved to draw him close to them both. A moment Lancelet stood unmoving, his face still set in angry lines, and then he said, with a deep sigh, \"So be it, King Arthur. But-\" He hesitated, and Gwenhwyfar, standing very close to him, could feel the shudder which ran through his limbs. \"I know not what they will say when they hear of it in Avalon, my lord and my king.\"\n\nAnd fora moment there was total silence in the chamber, while the lights, the spears of the flames from the north, flared over them.\n\nAnd then Elaine jerked the curtains shut, closing out the portents, and cried merrily, \"Come and sit to your dinner, my lords! For if you ride forth to battle at daybreak, you shall not set forth unfeasted, and we have done our best for you!\"\n\nBut again and again, as they sat at meat, while Lot and Uriens and Duke Marcus spoke of strategy and troop placement with Arthur, Gwenhwyfar caught Lancelet's dark eyes, and they were filled with sorrow and dread.\n\nWhen Morgaine left Arthur's court at Caerleon, asking leave only to pay a visit to Avalon and her foster-mother, she kept her thoughts on Viviane-that way she need not think of what had befallen her and Lancelet. Whenever she let her mind wander to it, it was like being burnt with a hot iron of shame; she had offered herself to him in all honesty, in the old way, and he had wanted nothing of her but childish toyings that made a mockery of her womanhood. She did not know whether it was at him or herself that she was angered, that he could have so played with her, or that she could have hungered for him...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Now and again she regretted her harsh words to him." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Why had she flung insults at him? He was as the Goddess had made him, no worse and no better. But at other times, while she rode eastward, she felt herself to blame; the old taunt of Gwenhwyfar, little and ugly as one of the fairy folk, scalded her mind. Had she had more to give, had shebeen beautiful as Gwenhwyfar was beautiful... had shebeen content with what he had to give... and then her mind would swing the other way again, he had insulted her and the Goddess through her.... So tormented, she rode through the green country of the hills. And after a time her thoughts began to turn to what awaited her at Avalon.\n\nShe had left the Holy Isle unpermitted. She had renounced her state as priestess, leaving behind her even the little sickle knife of her initiation; and in the years since, always she had dressed her hair low on her brow, so that none might seethe blue crescent tattooed there. Now in one of the villages she bartered away a little gilt ring she had for some of the blue paint the Tribeswomen used, and painted the faded mark afresh.\n\nAll that has befallen me has come because I forswore the vows I had given the Goddess... and then she recalled what Lancelet had said in his despair, that there were neither Gods nor Goddess, but these were the shapes mankind gives, in terror, to what they cannot make into reason.\n\nBut even if this were true, it would not lessen her guilt. For whether the Goddess took the form they thought, or whether the Goddess was only another name for the great unknowns of nature, still she had deserted the temple and the way of life and thought to which she was pledged, and she had forsaken the great tides and rhythms of the earth. She had eaten foods forbidden to a priestess, had taken the life of animal or bird or plant without giving thanks to that part of the Goddess being sacrificed for her good, she had lived unmindful, had given herself to a man without seeking to know the will of the Goddess in her sun tides, for mere pleasure and lechery-no, it was not to be looked for, that she could return and all should be as before. And as she rode through the hills, through ripening harvest and fertilizing rain, she was aware, with greater and greater pain, of how far she had come from the teachings of Viviane and of Avalon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The difference is deeper than I thought. Even those who till the earth, when they are Christians, come to away of life which is far from the earth; they say that their God has given them dominion overall growing things and every beast of the field. Whereas we dwellers in hillside and swamp, forest and far field, we know that it is not we who have the dominion over nature, but she who has dominion over us, from the moment lust stirs in the loins of our fathers and desire in the womb of our mothers to bring us forth, under her dominion, to when we quicken in the womb and are brought forth in her time, to the lives of plant and animal which must be sacrificed to feed and swaddle and clothe us and give us strength to live... all, all of these things are under the domain of the Goddess and without her beneficent mercy none of us could draw a living breath, but all things would be barren and die. And even when the time comes for barrenness and death, so that others may come to take our place on this earth, that is her doing too, she who is not only the Green Lady of the fruitful earth, but also the Dark Lady of the seed lying hidden beneath the snows, of the raven and the hawk who bring death to the slow, and of the worms who work in secret to destroy that which has served its time, even Our Lady of rot and destruction and death at the end....\n\nIn the memory of all these things, Morgaine came at last to see that what had happened with Lancelet, after all, was but a little thing; the greatest sin was not with Lancelet but in her own heart, that she had turned away from the Goddess. What did it matter what the priests thought was good, or virtuous, or sinful, or shameful? The wound to her pride was only a healthful cleansing." }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Goddess will deal with Lancelet in her own time and her way." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It is not for me to say. At the moment Morgaine thought it the best thing that could happen, should she never set eyes again on her cousin.\n\nNo; it was not to be looked for that she could return to her place as chosen priestess... but Viviane might have pity on her and let her amend her sins against the Goddess. At the moment she felt she could be content to dwell in Avalon, even as servant or humble worker-woman in the fields. She felt like a sick child, hurrying to lay her head in her mother's lap and weep there... she would send for her son and have him fostered in Avalon, among the priests, and never depart again from the way she had been taught....\n\nAnd so when first she saw the sight of the Tor, thrusting itself up, green and unmistakable, over the hills lying in between, the tears streamed down her face. She was coming home, home to her own place and to Viviane, she would stand within the ring stones and pray to the Goddess that her faults might be healed, that she might return to that place from which her own pride and self-will had thrust her.\n\nIt seemed that the Tor was playing hide-and-seek with her, now visible, thrusting itself up between the hills like an erect phallus, now hiding between smaller hills, now disappearing in the damp fogs; but at last she came to the shores of the Lake where she had come with Viviane so many years ago.\n\nThe greying waters, in late-evening sunlight, lay empty before her. Against the red light in the sky, the reeds were dark and barren, and the shores of the Island of the Priests just visible, rising in the sunset mist. But nothing stirred, nothing moved on the water, even though she thrust forth her whole heart and mind in a passionate effort to reach the Holy Isle, to summon the barge.... An hour she stood there unmoving, and then the darkness closed down, and she knew she had failed." } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "Help the author by continuing the tale.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 7" }, { "from": "human", "value": "The Goddess will deal with Lancelet in her own time and her way." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It is not for me to say. At the moment Morgaine thought it the best thing that could happen, should she never set eyes again on her cousin.\n\nNo; it was not to be looked for that she could return to her place as chosen priestess... but Viviane might have pity on her and let her amend her sins against the Goddess. At the moment she felt she could be content to dwell in Avalon, even as servant or humble worker-woman in the fields. She felt like a sick child, hurrying to lay her head in her mother's lap and weep there... she would send for her son and have him fostered in Avalon, among the priests, and never depart again from the way she had been taught....\n\nAnd so when first she saw the sight of the Tor, thrusting itself up, green and unmistakable, over the hills lying in between, the tears streamed down her face. She was coming home, home to her own place and to Viviane, she would stand within the ring stones and pray to the Goddess that her faults might be healed, that she might return to that place from which her own pride and self-will had thrust her.\n\nIt seemed that the Tor was playing hide-and-seek with her, now visible, thrusting itself up between the hills like an erect phallus, now hiding between smaller hills, now disappearing in the damp fogs; but at last she came to the shores of the Lake where she had come with Viviane so many years ago.\n\nThe greying waters, in late-evening sunlight, lay empty before her. Against the red light in the sky, the reeds were dark and barren, and the shores of the Island of the Priests just visible, rising in the sunset mist. But nothing stirred, nothing moved on the water, even though she thrust forth her whole heart and mind in a passionate effort to reach the Holy Isle, to summon the barge.... An hour she stood there unmoving, and then the darkness closed down, and she knew she had failed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "No... the barge would not come for her, this night or ever again. It would come fora priestess, for Viviane's chosen, cherished fosterling; it would not come fora runaway who had lived in secular courts and done her own will for four years. Once before, at the time of her initiation, she had been cast forth from Avalon, and the test of whether or no she might be called priestess was only this-that she should return without aid.\n\nShe could not call the barge; she feared within her very soul to cry aloud the word of power that would summon it through the mists. She could not command it, who had forfeited the right to be called a child of Avalon. As the color left the water and the last remnants of the sunlight faded into twilight mist, Morgaine looked mournfully toward the distant shore. No, she dared not call the boat; but there was another way into Avalon, around at the other side of the Lake, where she could cross by the hidden path through the swamp and there find her way into the hidden world. Aching with loneliness, she began to skirt the shore, leading her horse. The looming presence of the big animal in the dusk, his snorting breaths behind her, were a vague comfort. If all failed she could spend the night on the shores of the Lake; it would not be the first night she had spent alone in the open. And in the morning she would find her way. She remembered that solitary journey, disguised, to Lot's court far in the north, years ago. She had grown soft with the good living and luxury of the court, but she could do it again if she must.\n\nBut it was so still: no sound of bells from the Isle of the Priests, no chantings from the convent, no bird cries; it was as if she moved through an enchanted country. Morgaine found the place she was looking for. It was growing dark, and each bush and tree seemed to take on a sinister shape, some strange thing, some monster, some dragon. But Morgaine was recovering the habits of mind she had possessed when she dwelt in Avalon; there was nothing here that would harm her, if she meant it no harm." }, { "from": "human", "value": "She began to take her way along the hidden path." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Halfway she must move through the mists; otherwise the path would but bring her to the monks' kitchen garden behind their cloister. She admonished herself firmly to stop thinking of the growing darkness and set her mind into meditative silence, fixing it on where she longed to go. Thus, then, with each step as if she wound a spell, treading out the spiral dance as if the way wound up the Tor toward the ring stones... she moved silently, her eyes half-closed, placing each foot with care. She could feel the mists cold about her now.\n\nViviane had not thought it any such great ill, that she should lie with her half-brother and bear him a child... a child born of the old royal line of Avalon, more a king than Arthur's self. Had she borne such a child to Lancelet, then could that child have been fostered herein Avalon and reared to become one of the greatest of the Druids. Now what would become of her son? Why did she leave Gwydion in the hands of Morgause? Morgaine thought, I am an unnatural mother; I should have sent for my son. But she had not been willing to look Arthur in the face and tell him of his child's existence. She would not want the priests and ladies at court to look on her and say, This is the woman who bore a child to the Horned One in the old pagan way of the tribes who paint their faces and wear horns and run with the deer like animals... the boy was well enough where he was, Arthur's court was no place for him, and what would she do with a little boy of three running at her heels? Arthur's?\n\nBut there were times when she thought of him, remembered nights when he had been brought to her full-fed and sweet-smelling, when she had sat holding him and crooning to him, thinking of nothing, her whole body filled with mindless happiness... when else had shebeen so happy? Only once, she thought, when Lancelet and I lay in the sunshine on the Tor, when we hunted waterfowl by the shores of the Lake... and then, blinking, she realized that by this time she should have come further than this, she should be past the mists and on the solid ground of Avalon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And indeed the boggy places were gone-there were trees around her, and the path was firm underfoot, and she had not come to the priests'kitchen garden and outbuildings either. She should now be in the field behind the House of Maidens, leading into the orchard; now she must think of what she would say when she was found here, of the words she would speak to prove to the folk of Avalon that she had the right to be here. Or did she? Somehow it seemed that it was a little less dark; perhaps the moon was rising-it was three or four days after the full, soon there would be light enough to find her way. It was not to be looked for that every tree and bush should be the same as when she had dwelt here and known every step of every path. Morgaine clung to her horse's bridle, suddenly afraid of losing her way on the once-familiar paths.\n\nNo, it was actually growing brighter, she could seethe bushes and trees quite plainly now. If the moon was rising, why could she not see it above the trees? Had she somehow gotten turned round, while she was walking with her eyes half-closed, treading out the path that led through the mists and between the worlds? If only she might see some familiar landmark! There were no clouds now-she could seethe sky and even the mists had gone, but she could make out no star.\n\nPerhaps she had been away too long from such things? She could see no sign of rising moon, though it should have been long since in the sky....\n\nAnd then it was as if cold water flooded down her back and set her blood to moving like ice inside her. That day when she had gone to seek roots and herbs, when she would have cast forth the child within her... had she wandered again into that enchanted country which was neither the world of Britain nor the secret world where the magic of the Druids had taken Avalon, but that older, darker country where there was neither star nor sun...?" }, { "from": "human", "value": "She bade her beating heart to still itself; she gripped the horse's bridle and leaned against the warm, sweaty flank, feeling the solidity of muscle and bone, hearing the soft snorting breaths real and definite under her cheek." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Surely if she stood still fora little and took thought, she would find her way.... But fear was rising in her.\n\nI cannot go back. I cannot go back to Avalon, I am not worthy, I cannot make my way through the mists.... On the day of the ordeal of initiation she had felt this fora moment, but she had firmly put her fear aside.\n\nBut I was younger then and innocent. Never then had I betrayed the Goddess or the secret teachings, never had I betrayed life....\n\nMorgaine fought to control the rising tides of panic. Fear was the worst thing. Fear would put her at the mercy of whatever misfortune came. Even the wild beasts could smell fear on your body and would come and attack, while they would flee from the courageous. This was why the bravest man could run among the deer with safety, so long as fear was not smelled on his skin... was this, she wondered, why they smeared their bodies with the acrid blue dye of woad, because it covered the smell of fear? Perhaps the truly brave manor woman was the one whose mind made no pictures of what might happen if things went awry.\n\nThere was nothing hereto harm her, even if it might be that she had strayed into the fairy country. Once before she had found herself there, but the woman who had mocked her had offered no harm or threat. They were older even than the Druids, but they too lived by the will and rule of the Goddess in their life and ways, and it might even be that one could guide her to her proper path. So, either way, there was nothing to fear: at worst she would meet no one and spend a lonely night among the trees.\n\nNow she saw light-was it one of the lights that burned in the court of the House of Maidens? If it was so, well, then she would soon be home, and if not, then she could ask her way of whatever folk she met. If she had strayed into the Isle of the Priests, then if she met with some strange priest he might fear that she was one of the fairy women. She wondered if, from time to time, these women did come to tempt the priests; it was only reasonable that here, in the very shrine of the Goddess, some priest with more imagination than others might feel the pulse of this place, come to know that his way of life was a denial of the forces of life which ran within the very pulse beat of the world. They denied life rather than affirming it, from the life of the heart and the life of nature to the life that ran at root between man and woman...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "If I were Lady of Avalon, on the nights when the moon was new and springing, I would send the maidens into the cloister of the priests, to show them that the Goddess cannot be mocked or denied, that they are men and that women are not evil inventions of their pretended Devil, but that the Goddess will have her way with them..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "aye, at Beltane or Midsummer....\n\nOr would these mad priests bid the maidens begone and think them demons, come to tempt the faithful? And fora moment it seemed she could hear the voice of the Merlin: Let all men be free to serve what God they best like....\n\nEven, she wondered, one which denied the very life of the earth? But she knew Taliesin would have said, Even so.\n\nNow through the trees she made out clearly the shape of a torch, flaring up yellow and blue from along pole. The glare of it blinded her eyes fora moment, and then she saw the man who held the torch. He was small and dark, and neither priest nor Druid. He wore a loincloth of spotted deerskin and some sort of dark cloak over his bare shoulders; he was like to one of the little Tribesmen, only taller. His hair was dark and long, and he wore a garland of colored leaves in it; autumn leaves, though the leaves had not yet turned. And somehow that frightened Morgaine. But his voice was mellow and soft, as he spoke in an ancient dialect. \"Welcome, sister; are you benighted? Come this way. Let me lead your horse-I know the paths.\" It was for all the world, she thought, as if she were expected.\n\nAs if she had fallen into a dream, Morgaine followed. The path grew harder underfoot and easier to follow, and the light of the torch blurred away the misty dimness. He led the horse, but now and then he turned toward her and smiled. Then he reached out and took her by the hand, as if he were leading a young child. His teeth were very white, and his eyes, dark in the torch glow, were merry." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There were more lights now; at some point, she did not know when, he had given over her horse to another, and led her within a ring of lights-she did not remember coming within walls, but she was in a great hall where there were men and women feasting, with garlands on their heads. Some bore garlands of the autumn leaves, but at the same time there were women who bore garlands of early spring flowers, the little pale arbutus that hides under the leaves even before the snow is gone. Somewhere, a harp was playing.\n\nHer guide was still at her side. He led her toward the high table and there, somehow without surprise, she recognized the woman she had seen before, wearing in her hair a garland of bare twined wicker-withes. The woman's grey eyes seemed ageless and knowing, as if she could read and see all things.\n\nThe man set Morgaine on a bench and put a tankard in her hand. It was of some metal she did not know... the liquor in it was sweet and smooth and tasted of peat and heather. She drank thirstily, and realized she had drunk too quickly after her long fast; she felt dizzied. Then she recalled the old tale-should you blunder into the fairy country, you must never drink nor eat of their food... but that was only an old tale, no more; they would not harm her.\n\nShe asked, \"What is this place?\"\n\nThe lady said, \"This is the Castle Chariot, and you are welcome here, Morgaine, Queen of Britain.\"\n\nShe shook her head. \"No, no, I am no queen. My mother was High Queen, and I am Duchess of Cornwall, but no more....\"\n\nThe lady smiled. \"It is all one. You are weary and have travelled long. Eat and drink, little sister, and tomorrow one shall guide you wherever you wish to go. Now is the time for feasting.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "There were fruits on her plate, and bread, a dark soft bread of some unknown grain, but it seemed she had tasted it somewhere before this..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "she saw that the man who had led her hither had bracelets of gold about his wrists, twining like live snakes... she rubbed her eyes, wondering if she had fallen into a dream, and when she looked again it was only a bracelet, or perhaps a tattoo, like the one Arthur bore from his kingmaking. And at times when she looked at him, the torches flared so, it seemed there was the shadow of antlers above his brow; and the lady was crowned and hung about with gold, but now and again it seemed it was only a crown of wicker, and she had a necklace of shells about her throat, the little shells which were halved like a woman's private parts, and sacred to the Goddess. She sat between them and somewhere a harp was playing, a sweeter music than even the harps of Avalon....\n\nShe was no longer wearied. The sweet-tasting drink had cleared her mind of fatigue and sorrow. Later someone put a harp in her hand and she too played and sang; never had her voice sounded so soft and clear and sweet. She fell into a dream as she played, where it seemed all the faces around her wore the semblance of someone she had known elsewhere.... It seemed she walked on the shores of a sunny island and played a curious bowed harp; and then there was a time when she satin a great stone courtyard and a wise Druid in strange long robes taught them with compasses and a star finder, and there were songs and sounds that would open a locked door or raise a circle of ring stones and she learned them all, and was crowned with a golden serpent over her brow....\n\nThe lady said it was time to go to rest-on the morrow one would guide her and her horse. She slept that night in a cool room hung about with leaves-or were they tapestries that now seemed to twist and change, telling stories of all the things that had been? She saw herself too, woven into the tapestry, with her harp in her hand, with Gwydion on her lap, and she saw herself woven into the tapestry with Lancelet-he played with her hair and held her hand, and she thought there was something she should remember, some reason she should be angry with Lancelet; but she could not remember what it was." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When the lady said that this night was festival and she should stay here a day or two more and dance with them, she let it be... it was so long, it seemed, since she had danced and been merry. But when she took thought to what festival it might be, she could not quite remember... surely the Equinox had not come yet, nor could she see moon or sun to reckon it for herself as she had been taught.\n\nThey put a garland of flowers in her hair, bright summer flowers, for, said the lady, you are no untried maiden. It was a starless night, and it troubled her that she could not seethe moon, as she had not seen the sun by day. Had it been one day, or two or three? Somehow time seemed not to matter; she ate when she was hungry, slept where she was when she felt weary, alone, or lying on abed, soft as grass, with one of the lady's maidens. Once, to her surprise, she found the maiden-yes, she looked somewhat like Raven-twining her arms round her neck and kissing her, and she returned the kisses without surprise or shame. It was as it is in a dream, where strange things seem wholly possible, and she was surprised at this, just a little, but somehow it did not seem to matter, she lived in an enchanted dream. Sometimes she wondered what had happened to her horse, but when she thought of riding forth, the lady said she must not think of it yet, they willed that she should stay with them... once years afterward when she was trying to recall all that had befallen her within the Castle Chariot, she remembered that she had lain in the lady's lap and suckled at her breast, and it did not seem strange to her at all that she, a grown woman, should lie in her mother's lap, and be kissed and dandled like an infant. But surely that had been no more than a dream, when she was dizzied with the sweet-tasting strong wine...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "And sometimes it seemed to her that the lady was Viviane, and she wondered: Have I fallen sick, am I lying in a fever and dreaming all these curious things?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She went outwith the lady's maidens and searched with them for root and herb, and the season seemed not to matter. And at the festival-was it that same night or another?-she danced to the harps, and again she took a turn at the harps for the dancing, and the music she made sounded both melancholy and merry.\n\nOnce when she was searching for berries and flowers for garlands, her feet stumbled over something: the white bleached bones of some animal. And round its neck was a fragment of leather, and on that a scrap of red cloth-it was something like to the bag in which she had borne her gear when she rode from Caerleon. What, she wondered, had happened to her own horse, was it safe in the stables here? She had not seen stables at all in the fairy castle, but she supposed they were somewhere. For now it was enough to dance, to sing, to let time pass, enchanted....\n\nOnce the man who had brought her there led her aside from the dancing ring. She was never to know his name. How, when she could see neither sun nor moon, could the tides of moon and sun beat in her so fiercely?\n\n\"You have a dagger about you,\" he said, \"you must put it from you, I cannot bear it near.\"\n\nShe unfastened the leather thongs that bound it to her waist and cast it away, not knowing where it fell. Then he came to her, his dark hair falling about hers; his mouth tasted sweet, of berries and of the strong heather drink. He undid her clothing. She had grown used to the cold-it did not matter to her that it was cold on the grass here, that she was naked under his body. She touched him; he was warm, his body warm, his strong male member hot and strong, his hands opening her thighs were strong and eager. Her whole body welcomed him as hungrily as a virgin; she moved with him and she felt the rhythm of the pulsing tides of the earth around her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Then she was afraid... she did not want him to get her with child, it had gone so ill with her when Gwydion was born, another child would surely kill her. But when she would have spoken, he laid a hand gently over her lips and she knew he could read her thoughts.\n\n\"No fear of that, sweet lady, the tides are not right for that... this is the time for pleasure and not for ripening,\" he said softly, and she gave herself up to it, and yes, there were antlers shadowing his brow, she lay again with the Horned One, and it was as if stars were falling in the wood all round them, or was it but fireflies and glowworms?\n\nOnce she was wandering in the woods with the maidens and she came to a pool and bent over it, and looking deep there, she saw Viviane's face looking out at her from the waters. Her hair was greying now, strands of white all through it, and there were lines she had never seen before. Her lips opened; it seemed she was calling, and Morgaine wondered, How long have I been here? Surely, I have been here four or Jive days, maybe even a week. I must surely go. The lady said one would guide me to the shores of Avalon....\n\nAnd she made her way to the lady and told her that she must surely go. But night was falling-surely tomorrow would be time enough....\n\nOnce again, in the water, it seemed she saw Arthur, his armies massing.... Gwenhwyfar looked weary and somehow older; she held Lancelet by the hand as he bade them farewell, and he kissed her lips. Yes, Morgaine thought in bitterness, such games as he likes well to play. Gwenhwyfar would wish it so, to have all his love and devotion and never endanger her honor.... But it was easy to put them away from her, too." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And then one night she woke with a start, hearing from somewhere a great cry, and fora moment, it seemed to her as if she stood on the Tor at the center of the ring stones, hearing the terrifying cry ringing through the worlds-the voice she had heard but once since she grew to womanhood, that harsh rusty voice, grown dull with unuse, the voice of Raven, who broke her silence only when the Gods had a message they dared not leave to any other....\n\nAh, the Pendragon has betrayed Avalon, the dragon has flown... the banner of the dragonflies no more against the Saxon warriors... weep, weep, if the Lady should set foot from Avalon, for surely she will return no more... and a sound of weeping, of sobbing in the sudden darkness...\n\nAnd silence. Morgaine sat upright in the greyish light, her mind suddenly clear for the first time since she had come into this country.\n\nI have been here all too long, she thought, winter has come. Now I must depart, now, before this day is over... no, I cannot even say so, the sun does not rise or set here... I must go now, at once. She knew she should call for her horse, and then, remembering, she knew: her horse was long since dead in these woods. Ina sudden fright, she thought, How long have I been here?\n\nShe searched for her dagger, and remembered that she had cast it away. She bound her dress about her-it seemed faded. She could not remember washing it, nor her underlinen, yet they seemed not dirtied much. She wondered suddenly if she were mad.\n\nIf I speak to the lady, she will beseech me again not to go....\n\nMorgaine tied her hair up in plaits... why had she let it hang free, she, a grown woman? And she set off down the path which, she knew, would bring her to Avalon." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "MORGAINE SPEAKS...\n\nTo this very day I have never known how many nights and days I spent in the fairy country-even now my mind blurs when I try to reckon it up. Try as I may I can make it no fewer than five and no more than thirteen. Nor am I certain how much time passed in the world outside, nor in Avalon, while I was there, but because mankind keeps better records of time than the fairy folk, I know that some five years passed.\n\nPerhaps, and I think this more as I grow older, what we speak of as time passing happens only because we have made it a habit, in our very blood and bones, to count things-the fingers of a newborn child, the rising and returning of the sun, we think so often of how many days must pass or how many seasons before our corn will ripen or our child grow in the womb and come to birth or some longed-for meeting take place; and we watch these by the turning of the year and the sun, as the first of the priestly secrets. Within the fairy country I knew nothing of the passing of time, and so for me it did not pass. For when I came out of the country I found that already there were more lines in Gwenhwyfar's face, and Elaine's exquisite youthfulness had begun to blur a little; but my own hands were no thinner, my face was untouched byline or wrinkle, and though in our family white comes early to the hair-in his nineteenth year Lancelet had had already a few grey strands-my hair was black and untouched by time as the wing of a crow.\n\nI have come to think that once the Druids had taken Avalon away from the world of constant counting and reckoning it began to happen there, too. Time does not flow in Avalon unreckoned like the passing of a dream, as it does in the fairy country. Yet truly time has begun to drift a little. We seethe moon and sun of the Goddess there, and reckon the rites within the ring stones, and so time never wholly leaves us. But it runs not even with time elsewhere, though one would think that if the motion of sun and moon were known at all, it would move like to that in the world outside... yet it is not so. Toward these last years I could bide a month in Avalon and discover when I came away that an entire season had sped by outside. And often, toward the end of those years, I did so, for I had no patience to see what happened in the world outside; and when folk marked that I stayed ever young, then more than ever did they call me fairy or witch." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But that was long, long afterward.\n\nFor when I heard Raven in that terrifying cry which moved into the spaces between the worlds, reaching my mind even where I stayed in the timeless dream of the fairy world, I set forth... but not to Avalon.\n\nIn the world outside, the light of the sun shone bright through fickle cloud shadows over the Lake, and faraway the sound of church bells rang through the air. Against that sound, Morgaine dared not raise her voice to cry the word of power which would summon the barge, nor take upon her the form of the Goddess.\n\nShe looked at herself in the mirrored surface of the Lake. How long, she wondered, had she tarried in the fairy country? With her mind free of enchantments, she knew-even though she could reckon only two or three days-that she had dwelt there long enough for her fine dark gown to wear away ragged where it dragged on the ground; somewhere she had lost her dagger or cast it away-she was not sure which. Now she remembered some of the things which had befallen her there as dreams or madness, and her face was stung with shame. Yet mingled with all this were memories of music sweeter than she had heard in the world or in Avalon, or anywhere else, save when she had been at the borders of the country of Death when her child was born... almost, then, she had longed to crossover, if only to hear the music there. She remembered the sound of her own voice singing with the fairy harp-never had she sung or played so sweetly. I would like to go back there, and stay there forever. And she almost turned about to return, but the memory of Raven's fearful cry troubled her.\n\nArthur, betraying Avalon and the oath by which he had received the sword and been taken into the holiest place of the Druids. And danger to Viviane should she set forth from Avalon-slowly, trying to put things together in her mind, Morgaine remembered. She had set forth from Caerleon-it seemed only a few days ago, in the late summer. She had never come to Avalon, and now it looked as if she never would come there... she looked sadly at the church atop the Tor. If she could steal into Avalon behind the island-but the paths had carried her only into the fairy country." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Somewhere, then, she had lost both dagger and horse; and now she remembered seeing bleached bone, and shuddered." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And now she came to take note, the church on the Tor seemed different, the priests must have been building on it, and surely they could not have built it so big in a month or even two.... Somehow, she thought, gripping her hands together in sudden fright, I must find out how many moons have sped by while I wandered with the maidens of the lady, or took my pleasure with the fairy man who led me there....\n\nBut no, it could not have been more than two or at most three nights... she thought wildly, not knowing it was the beginning of a confusion which would grow endlessly and never be wholly settled in her mind. And now when she thought of those nights she was frightened and ashamed, trembling with the memory of a pleasure she had never known, lying in the arms of the fairy man-and yet now she was away from the enchantment it seemed like something shameful, done in a dream. And the caresses she had given and received from the fairy maidens, something she could never have dreamed without such an enchantment-there had befallen something, too, with the lady... and now she thought of it, the lady was much like Viviane, and Morgaine was shamed too... in the fairy country it had been as if she had hungered all her life for such things, and yet in the outside world she would never have dared it, or even dreamed of it.\n\nDespite the warm sun, she had begun to shiver. She did not know what time of year it might be, but there were patches of unmelted snow on the edge of the Lake, hiding in the reeds. In the name of the Goddess, can the winter have passed and spring beat hand again? And if enough time had gone by in the outside world so that Arthur could have planned betrayal of Avalon, then it must have been longer than she dared to think." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She had lost horse and dagger and everything else she had had with her. Her shoes, too, were worn, she had no food with her, and she was alone on the shores of unfriendly country, far from anyplace where she was known as the King's sister. Well, she had gone hungry before this. A flicker of a smile passed over her face. There were great houses and nunneries where she would perhaps be given bread as a beggar. She would make her way to the court of Arthur-perhaps somewhere she would come on a village where someone would need the services of a midwife, so that she could barter her skill for bread.\n\nShe gave one last longing look at the shores across the Lake. Dared she make a final attempt to speak the word of power which would bring her into Avalon? If she could speak with Raven, perhaps she could know precisely what danger threatened... she opened her mouth to cry out the word and drew back. She could not face Raven, either; Raven who had kept the laws of Avalon so meticulously, who had done nothing to shame her priestess garb. How could she face Raven's clear eyes with the memories of what she had done in the outside world and in the fairy country? Raven would have them from her mind in a moment... at last, the shores of the Lake and the spire of the church blurring through tears, she turned her back on Avalon to find the Roman road that led away south, past the mines and at last to Caerleon.\n\nSHE HAD BEEN three days on the road before she met with another traveller. The first night she had slept in an abandoned herder's hut, supperless, sheltering from the wind, but no more. On the second day she had come to a farmstead where the folk were all from home except fora half-witted goose boy; but he had let her sit to warm herself by the banked fire inside, and she had taken a thorn from his foot, so that he gave her a hunk of his bread. She had walked farther with less to eat." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "But then she came nearer to Caerleon and was shocked to find two burned-outhouses, and crops rotting in the field... it was as if Saxons had passed this way! She went into one of the houses, which looked as if it had been sacked, for there was little left; but lying in one of the rooms she found an old and faded cloak, too ragged, she supposed, even for the raiders to take, abandoned by someone when they fled the place. It was warm wool, though, and Morgaine wrapped it round herself, though it made her look more than ever like a beggar woman; she had suffered more from the cold than from hunger. Near dusk some fowls clucked in the abandoned court; hens were creatures of habit, they had not yet learned that they could not come hereto be fed. Morgaine caught one of them and wrung its neck, and in the ruined fireplace kindled a small fire; if she was lucky, no one would see smoke coming from the ruins, or if they did would think it was but ghosts. She spitted the chicken and roasted it on a green stick of wood over her fire. It was so old and tough that even her strong teeth had trouble chewing it, but she had been hungry so long that she did not care, and sucked the bones as if it were the daintiest of roast birds. She found some leather, too, in one of the outbuildings which had been some sort of forge or smithy; they had carried off every tool and every last scrap of metal, but there were some bits of leather lying about, and Morgaine wrapped what was left of the hen in it. She would have mended her shoes too, but she had no knife. Well, perhaps she would come to a village where she might get the loan of one fora few minutes. What madness had prompted her to cast her dagger away?\n\nIt was several days after full moon, and when she set forth from the ruined farm, there was frost on the stone doorstep, and a gibbous day moon lingered in the sky. As she crossed the door sill with her leather bag of cold meat and a thick stick clenched in her hand-some shepherd, no doubt, had cut it and left it here-she heard a hen clucking somewhere in wild announcement, and she sought out the nest and ate the egg raw and still warm from the hen's body, so she felt full fed and comfortable." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "The wind was brisk and cold, and she walked at a good pace, glad of the cloak, threadbare and torn though it was. The morning was far advanced, and she was beginning to think of sitting herself down by the road and eating some of the cold fowl, when she heard hooves behind heron the road, overtaking her.\n\nHer first thought was to continue on her way-she was bent on her own affairs and had as good aright to the road as any other traveller. Then, remembering the ruin of the farm, she took thought and went to the side of the road, concealing herself behind a bush. There was noway to tell what manner of folk travelled the roads now, with Arthur too busy keeping the peace against the Saxons to have much time to create peace in the countryside and protection along the roads. If the traveller seemed harmless, she might ask him what news; if not, well, she would lie here hidden until he was out of sight.\n\nIt was a solitary horseman, wrapped in a grey cloak and riding on a tall, lean horse; riding alone, with no servant or pack horse. No, but he bore a great pack behind him-no, not that either; it was that his body was hunched over in the saddle-and then she knew who the man must be, and stepped out from her place of concealment.\n\n\"Kevin Harper!\" she said.\n\nHe drew up his horse; it was well trained and did not rear or sidle. He looked down at her, scowling, his mouth twisted in a sneer-or was it but the scars he bore?\n\n\"I have nothing for you, woman-\" and then he broke off. \"By the Goddess! It is the lady Morgaine-what do you here, madam? I had heard last year that you were in Tintagel with your mother before she died, but when the High Queen went south to her burying, she said no, you had not been there-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine reeled and putout a hand to steady herself on her stick. \"My mother-dead? I had not heard-\"\n\nKevin dismounted, steadying himself against the horse's flank until he got his stick under him. \"Sit you down here, madam-you had not heard? Where, in the name of the Goddess, have you been? The word came even to Viviane in Avalon, but she is now too old and too frail to go forth.\" But where I was, Morgaine thought, I heard it not. It maybe that when I saw Igraine's face in the forest pool, then was she calling tome with the news, and I never knew. Pain wrenched at her heart; she and Igraine had grown so far from each other-they had parted soon after she was eleven years old and gone forth to Avalon-yet now it tore at her with anguish, as if she were that same little girl who had wept when she left Igraine's house. Oh, my mother, and I knew nothing of it.... She sat at the edge of the road, tears streaming down her face. \"How did she die? Have you heard?\"\n\n\"Her heart, I believe; it was a year ago in the spring. Believe me, Morgaine, I heard nothing but that it was natural and expected for her years.\"\n\nFora moment Morgaine could not control her voice enough to speak; and with the grief, there was terror, for clearly she had dwelt out of the world longer than she had thought possible.... Kevin said, a year ago in the spring. So more than one spring had gone by while she lingered in the fairy country! For in the summer when she left Arthur's court, Igraine had not even been ailing! It was not a question of how many months she had been gone, but how many years!" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And could she get Kevin to tell her, without revealing where she had been?\n\n\"There is wine in my saddlebag, Morgaine-I would offer it to you, but you must get it for yourself.... I walk not well at the best of times. You look thin and pale, are you hungry too? And how is it that I find you on this road, clothed\"-Kevin wrinkled his brow in fastidious distaste-\"worse than any beggar woman?\"\n\nMorgaine cast about in her mind for what she could say. \"I have dwelt... in solitude, and away from the world. I have not seen nor spoken with any man for I know not how long. I had lost count even of the seasons.\" And this much was true, for whatever the folk of the fairy country might be, they were not mankind.\n\n\"I can well believe it,\" said Kevin. \"I could believe even that you had not heard of the great battle-\"\n\n\"I see that this country has been all burned over.\"\n\n\"Oh, that was three years ago,\" said Kevin, and Morgaine started back. \"Some of the treaty troops broke their vows and came all through this country, looting and burning. Arthur took a great wound at that battle and lay abed for half a year.\" He saw Morgaine's troubled face and mistook her concern. \"Oh, he does well enough now, but all that time he did not set foot to the ground-I imagine he felt the want of your healing skills, Morgaine. Then Gawaine led down all of Lot's men from the North and we had peace for three years. And then this summer past there was the great battle at Mount Badon-Lot died in that battle-aye, there was a victory, such as bards will sing fora hundred years,\" Kevin said. \"I do not think there is a Saxon chief left unkilled in all this land from Cornwall to Lothian, save those who call Arthur their king. There has been nothing like it since the days of the Caesars. And now all this land lies under the peace of Arthur.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine had risen and gone to the saddlebags. She found the flask of wine, and Kevin said, \"Bring the bread and cheese too. It is near noon and I will eat herewith you.\" When she had served him and opened her roll of leather with the remains of the chicken, offering it, he shook his head.\n\n\"Thank you, but I eat no flesh food now, I am under vows.... I marvel to see you eat meat, Morgaine, a priestess of your rank-\"\n\n\"That or go fasting,\" said Morgaine, and told him how the chicken had come to her. \"But I have not observed that prohibition since I left Avalon. I eat such things as are set before me.\"\n\n\"For myself, I think it makes little matter, flesh or fish or grain,\" Kevin said, \"though the Christians make much of their fasting-at least this Patricius who is Arthur's bishop now. Before that, the brethren who dwelt with us upon Avalon used to repeat a saying of their Christ, that it was not what went into a man's mouth that defiled him, but what came out of it, and therefore man should eat humbly of all the gifts of God. And so I have heard Taliesin say. But for myself-no doubt you know that at a certain level of the Mysteries, what is eaten has so much effect on the mind-I dare not eat meat now, it makes me drunker than too much wine!\"\n\nMorgaine nodded-she had had that experience too. When she had been drinking the sacred herbs, she could eat nothing but a little bread and fruit; even cheese or boiled lentils were too rich and made her ill.\n\n\"But where do you go now, Morgaine?\" And when she told him, he stared as if she were mad. \"To Caerleon? Why? There is nothing there-or perhaps you did not know, though I find that hard to believe.... Arthur gave it to one of his knights who served him well at that battle. But on the day of Pentecost he moved his whole court to Camelot-it will be a year this summer that he has dwelt there. Taliesin liked that not, that he opened his court upon the Christian holy day, but he did it to please his queen-he listens to her in all things.\" Morgaine surprised a faint grimace on his face. \"But then if you had not heard of the battle, it is likely you had not heard how Arthur betrayed the folk of Avalon and the Tribes.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine stopped the cup halfway to her lips. She said, \"It is for that I came, Kevin. I heard that Raven had broken her silence and prophesied some such thing as that....\"\n\n\"It was more than prophecy,\" said the bard. He stretched his leg uneasily, as if sitting for long in one position on the ground hurt him.\n\n\"Arthur betrayed-what did he do?\" Morgaine's breath caught. \"He did not give them into the hands of the Saxons...?\"\n\n\"You have not heard, then. The Tribes were sworn to follow the banner of the Pendragon, as they swore at his kingmaking, and Uther's before him... and the little folk of the days before the Tribes, they came too, with their bronze axes and flint hatchets and elf-arrows-no more than the fairy folk can they bear cold iron. All, all sworn to follow the Great Dragon. And Arthur betrayed them... he put away the dragon standard, even though we begged him that he should let Gawaine or Lancelet bear it into the field. But he swore that he would raise only his banner of the cross and the Holy Virgin into the field at Mount Badon. And so he did.\"\n\nMorgaine stared in horror, remembering Arthur's kingmaking. Even Uther had not so pledged himself to the folk of Avalon! And he had betrayed that pledge? She whispered, \"And the Tribes did not desert him?\"\n\nKevin said in great anger, \"Some of them came near to it; some of the Old People from the Welsh hills did indeed go home when the cross was raised-King Uriens could not stop them. As for the rest-well, we knew that day that the Saxons had us between the hammer and the anvil. We might follow Arthur and his knights into battle, or live thereafter under Saxon rule, for this was the great battle that had been prophesied. And he bore the sacred sword Excalibur from the Holy Regalia. Like enough the Goddess herself knew that she would be the worse if the land was ruled by the Saxons. So he fought, and the Goddess gave him victory.\" Kevin offered the wine flask to Morgaine, and when she shook her head, he drained it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Viviane would have come from Avalon to charge him with oath-breaking,\" he said, \"but she is reluctant to do so before all his people. And so I am for Camelot, to remind him of his vow. If he heeds not that, then Viviane has sworn she will come to Camelot herself, on the day when all people present their petitions, and Arthur has sworn he himself will hear and judge them, at Pentecost. And then, she said, she would stand before him as a common petitioner, and claim his oath, and remind him of what must befall him who forswears his word.\"\n\nMorgaine said, \"The Goddess grant that the Lady of the Lake need never humble herself so far.\"\n\n\"I too would speak to him with wrath, not soft words, but it is not mine to choose,\" said Kevin. He held out his hand. \"Will you help me to rise? I think my horse will bear two, and if not, when we come to a town we must get you a horse. I should be gallant even as the great Lancelet, and let you ride mine, but\"-he pointed to his crippled body.\n\nMorgaine pulled him to his feet. \"I am strong, I can walk. If we must barter anything in the town, we should find shoes for me and a knife. I have not a single coin with me, but I will repay you when I can.\"\n\nKevin shrugged. \"You are my vowed sister in Avalon-what I have is yours, so runs the law. There is no talk of payment between us.\"\n\nMorgaine felt herself coloring in shame, that Kevin should so remind her of what she had sworn. I have been out of the world, in truth. \"Let me help you to mount your horse. Will she stand, so?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "He smiled." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If she would not, she would belittle use tome in travelling such roads as I go alone! Let us go-I would like to reach Camelot tomorrow.\"\n\nIna town nestled in the hills, they found a cobbler to mend Morgaine's broken shoes, and an old bronze dagger; the man who had these things for sale said there was no dearth of them in this country since the great battle. Kevin bought her a decent cloak too, saying the ragged one she had found in the farmhouse would scarce make a saddle blanket. But the stop had delayed them, and once on the road again, it began to snow heavily, and the dark closed in early.\n\n\"We should have stayed in that town,\" said Kevin. \"I could have bartered harp music for supper and bed for us both. Alone, I could sleep under a hedge or in the shelter of a wall, wrapped in my cloak. But not a lady of Avalon.\"\n\n\"What makes you think I have never slept so?\" Morgaine asked.\n\nHe laughed. \"You look tome, Morgaine, as if you had slept so all too often of late! But no matter how swiftly we press the horse, we cannot come to Camelot this night-we must look somewhere for shelter.\"\n\nAfter a time, through the fast-falling snow, they could make out the dark shape of an abandoned building. Not even Morgaine could enter it walking upright; likely it had been a cattle byre, but the beasts had been gone so long that there was not even a smell, and the thatch-and-daub roof was mostly in place. They tethered the horse and crawled in, Kevin directing her with a gesture to lay the old ragged cloak on the filthy floor, and they each wrapped themselves in their cloaks and lay downside by side. But it was so cold that at last, hearing Morgaine's teeth chattering, Kevin said they must spread the two cloaks over them both and lie close together for warmth. \"If it will not sicken you to be so close to this misshapen body of mine,\" he said, and she could hear the pain and anger in his voice." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"Of what is misshapen about you, Kevin Harper, I know only that with your broken hands you make more music than I, or even Taliesin, with hands that are whole,\" Morgaine said, and moved gratefully into his warmth." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And at last she felt she could sleep, her head resting in the curve of his shoulder.\n\nShe had been walking all day and was weary; she slept heavily, but wakened when the light began to steal through the cracks in the broken wall. She felt cramped from the hard floor, and as she looked around the mud-daubed walls she felt a surge of horror. She, Morgaine, priestess of Avalon, Duchess of Cornwall, lying herein a beast shelter, cast out from Avalon... would she ever return? And she had come from worse places, from the Castle Chariot in the fairy country, out of all knowledge of Christendom and heathendom alike, out of the very doors of this world... she who had been so delicately reared by Igraine, she who was sister to the High King, schooled by the Lady of the Lake, accepted by the Goddess... now had she cast it all away. But, no, she had not cast it away, it had been taken from her when Viviane sent her to the kingmaking and she had come away with child by her own brother.\n\nIgraine is dead, my mother is dead, and I cannot come again to Avalon, never in this world... and then Morgaine was weeping hopelessly, muffling her sobs in the coarse stuff of the cloak.\n\nKevin's voice was soft and husky in the half-light.\n\n\"Do you weep for your mother, Morgaine?\"\n\n\"For my mother-and for Viviane-and perhaps most of all for myself.\" Morgaine was never certain whether she had spoken the words aloud. Kevin's arm circled her, and she let her head fall against his chest and wept and wept until she could weep no more.\n\nHe said, after along time, still stroking her hair, \"You spoke truth, Morgaine-you do not shrink from me.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"How could I,\" she said, nestling closer, \"when you have been so kind?\"\n\n\"All women think not so,\" he said. \"Even when I came to the Beltane fires, I heard-for some folk think that because my legs and hands are lame, I am also deaf and dumb-I heard more than one, even of the maidens of the Goddess, whisper to their priestess that she should place them afar from me, so that there would be no chance I would look upon them when the time came to go apart from the fires....\"\n\nMorgaine sat straight up in dismay. \"Were I that priestess, I would drive such a woman forth from the fires, because she dared to question the form in which the God might come to her... what did you do, Kevin?\"\n\nHe shrugged. \"Rather than interrupt the ritual or put any woman to such a choice, I went away so quietly that none knew. Even the God could never change what they see or think of me. Even before I was forbidden by the Druid vows to couple with women who barter their bodies for gold, I could pay no woman to accept me. Perhaps I should seek to be a priest among the Christians, who, I have heard, teach their priests the secret of living without women. Or perhaps I should wish that when the raiders broke my hands and body they had gelded me too, so that I should not care one way or the other. I am sorry-I should not speak of it. But I wonder if you consented to lie at my side because you thought this crooked body of mine was not a man's, and did not think of me so...\"\n\nMorgaine listened to him, appalled at the agony of bitterness in his words, the wounds dealt to his manhood. She knew the awareness that lived in his hands, the quick emotion of the musician. Even before the Goddess, could women look only at a broken body? She remembered how she had flung herself into Lancelet's arms, and the wound to her pride which, she knew, would never cease to bleed." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Quite deliberately she bent down and kissed him on the lips, pulled his hand to her and kissed the scars there. \"Never doubt it, tome you area man, and the Goddess has prompted me to do this.\" She lay down again, turning toward him.\n\nHe looked sharply at her in the growing light. Fora moment she flinched at what she saw in his face-did he think she pitied him? No: she shared the awareness of his suffering, which was another thing. She looked him directly in the eyes... yes, if his face had not been so drawn with bitterness, so twisted with suffering, he might have been handsome; his features were good, his eyes very dark and gentle. Fate had broken his body, but not his spirit-no coward could have endured the ordeals of the Druids.\n\nUnder the mantle of the Goddess, as every woman is my sister and my daughter and my mother, so must every man be tome as father and lover and son.... My father was dead before I could remember him, and I have not seen my son since he was weaned... but to this man I will give what the Goddess prompts me.... Morgaine kissed one of the scarred hands again and laid it inside her gown, against her breast.\n\nHe was inexperienced-which seemed to her strange fora man of his age. But how, Morgaine wondered, could he possibly have been anything else? And then she thought, This is the first time, really, that I have done this of my freewill, and had the gift taken simply, as it was offered. It healed something in her. Strange, that it could have been so with a man she scarcely knew, and for whom she felt only kindness. Even in his inexperience he was generous and gentle with her, and she felt, welling up within her, a great and unspeakable tenderness." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"It is strange,\" he said at last, in a quiet, musing voice." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I had known you were wise and a priestess, but somehow I had never thought you were beautiful.\"\n\nShe laughed harshly. \"Beautiful? Me?\" But she was grateful that, to him, at that moment, she seemed so.\n\n\"Morgaine, tell me-where have you been? I would not ask, but that whatever it is, it lies heavy on your heart.\"\n\n\"I do not know,\" she blurted out. She had never thought she would tell him. \"Out of the world, perhaps-I was trying to reach Avalon-and I could not come there, the way is barred tome, I think. Twice now, I have been-elsewhere. Another country, a country of dreams and enchantments-a country where time stands still and is not, and there is nothing but music-\" And she fell silent; would the harper think her a madwoman?\n\nHe traced a finger along the corner of her eye. It was cold, and they had thrown the covers off them; he tucked the cloaks gently round her again. \"Once I too was there, and heard their music...\" he said, in a distant brooding voice, \"and in that place I was not near so crippled, and their women did not mock me.... Someday, perhaps, when I have lost my fear of madness, I shall go to them once again... they showed me the hidden ways and said I might come because of my music...\" and again, his soft voice dropped into along silence.\n\nShe shivered and looked away from him. \"We had better getup. If our poor horse has not quite frozen in the night, we will arrive at Camelot this day.\"\n\n\"And if we arrive together,\" Kevin said quietly, \"they may believe that you have come with me from Avalon. It is none of their affair where you have dwelt-you area priestess, and your conscience is not in the keeping of any man alive, not even of their bishops, or of Taliesin himself.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine wished she had a decent dress to put on; she would arrive at Arthur's court in the garb of a beggar woman. Well, it could not be helped. Kevin watched as she arranged her hair, then held out his hand, and she helped him to his feet, matter-of-factly; but she saw that the bitter look was in his eyes again. He was guarded behind a hundred fences of reserve and anger. Yet just as they were crawling out the door he touched her hand. \"I have not thanked you, Morgaine-\"\n\nShe smiled. \"Oh-if there are thanks, they are to bespoken both ways, my friend-or could you not tell that?\"\n\nFora moment the scarred fingers tightened on hers... and then it was like ablaze of fire, she saw his ravaged face circled with a ring of fire, contorted with shrieking, and all about and all around him fire... fire... she stiffened and snatched her hand away, staring at him in horror.\n\n\"Morgaine!\" he cried. \"What is it?\"\n\n\"Nothing, nothing-a cramp in my foot-\" she lied, and avoided his hand when he would have put it out to steady her. Death! Death by burning! What did it mean? Not even the worst of traitors died that death... or had she seen only what had befallen him when he was lamed as a boy? Brief as the moment of Sight had been, it left her shaken, as if she herself had spoken the word that would deliver him to his death.\n\n\"Come,\" she said, almost brusquely. \"Let us ride.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar had never wished to meddle with the Sight; did it not say in Holy Writ that no man knew what a day might bring forth? Yet she had hardly thought of Morgaine in the last year, not since they had moved the court to Camelot, but this very morning she had wakened remembering a dream she had had of Morgaine-a dream in which Morgaine had taken her hand, leading her to the Beltane fires and bidding her lie with Lancelet there. When she was well awake she could laugh at the madness of that dream. Surely dreams were sent from the Devil, for in all of hers that gave her such evil counsel that no Christian wife could heed, oftenest it was Morgaine who spoke it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Well, she is gone from this court, I need never think of her again..." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "no, I do not wish her ill, I wish she might repent of her sins, and find peace in a nunnery... but one very far from here. Now that Arthur had given over his pagan ways, Gwenhwyfar felt that she would even be happy if it were not for these dreams in which Morgaine led her into shameful things. And now the dream haunted her while she sat working at the altar cloth she was making for the church, haunted her so deeply that it seemed wicked to sit working across in gold thread while she thought of Lancelet. She put down her thread and whispered a prayer, but her thoughts went on, relentless. Arthur, when she begged him at Christmas, had promised her that he would put down the Beltane fires in the countryside; she thought he would have done it before this, except that the Merlin had forbidden him. It would be hard for any, Gwenhwyfar thought, not to love the old man-he was so gentle and good; if only he were Christian, he would be better than any priest. But Taliesin had said it was not fair to the countryfolk, either, to take from them a simple awareness of a Goddess who cared for their fields and their crops and the fertility of their beasts and their own wombs. Surely there was little that such folk could do in the way of sin, they had all they could do to toil in the fields and till their crops for enough bread to keep them out of death's reach; it was not to be looked for that the Devil should trouble himself with such people, if there was a Devil at all. But Gwenhwyfar said, \"I suppose you think they do no sin, when they go to the Beltane fires and there do lewd and heathen rites and lie with other than their husbands-\"\n\n\"God knows they have little enough joy in their lives,\" Taliesin responded tranquilly. \"I cannot think it very wrong that four times in a whole year, when the seasons turn, they should make merry and do what pleasures them. I could not find much reason to love a God who took thought about such things and would call them wicked. Do you call them wicked, my queen?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "And she did; any Christian woman must think so, to go into the fields and dance naked and lie therewith the first man sent to her... immodest and shameful and wicked. Taliesin shook his head, sighing.\n\n\"Still, my queen, none can be the master of another's conscience. Even if you think it wicked and shameful, would you pretend to know what is right for another? Even the wise cannot know everything, and perhaps the Gods have more purposes than we, in our little knowledge, can see.\"\n\n\"If I knew right from wrong-as I do and as the priests have taught us, and as God has taught us in Holy Writ-then should I fear God's punishment if I did not make such laws as would keep my people from sin?\" Gwenhwyfar demanded. \"God would require it at my hands, I think, if I allowed evil to take place in my realm, and if I were king I should already have put it down.\"\n\n\"Then, lady, I can say only that it is the good fortune of this land that you are not king. A king must protect his people from outsiders, from invaders, and lead his people to defend themselves-a king must be the first to thrust himself between the land and all danger, just as a farmer stands to defend his fields from any robber. But it is not his duty to dictate to them what their innermost hearts may do.\"\n\nBut she had debated with him hotly. \"A king is the protector of his people, and what good is it to protect their bodies if he lets their souls fall into evil ways? Look you, Lord Merlin, I am a queen, and mothers in this land send their daughters to wait upon me and be schooled in courtly ways-understand you? Well, what manner of queen should I be, if I let another woman's daughter behave immodestly and get herself with child, or-as did Queen Morgause, I have heard-let her maidens go to the king's bed, if he wished to have his way with them? Mothers entrust me with their daughters because they know I will protect them-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is different, that you should be entrusted with maidens too young to know their own will, and be even as a mother to bring them uprightly,\" Taliesin said. \"But a king rules overgrown men.\"\n\n\"God has not said there is one law for the court and one other for the country folk! He wishes all men to keep his commandments-and suppose the laws were not there? What do you think would happen to this land if I and my ladies went out into the fields and behaved so immodestly? How can such things be allowed to goon within the very sound of the church bells?\"\n\nTaliesin smiled. He said, \"I do not think, even if there was no law against it, that you would be very likely to go into the fields at Beltane, my lady. I have marked it-that you like not to go out of doors much at all.\"\n\n\"I have had the good of Christian teaching and priestly counsel and I choose not to go,\" she said sharply.\n\n\"But Gwenhwyfar,\" he said very gently, his faded blue eyes looking at her out of the network of lines and patches on his face, \"think of this. Suppose a law was made against it, and your conscience told you that it was the right thing to do, to give yourself to the Goddess, in acknowledgment that she is over us all, body and soul? If your Goddess wished for you to do so-then, dear lady, would you let the passing of a law forbidding the Beltane fires stop you from it? Think, dear lady: not more than two hundred years ago-has Bishop Patricius not told you of this?-it was strictly against the laws herein the Summer Country that any should worship the Christ, for so they should defraud the Gods of Rome of their just and righteous due. And there were Christians who died rather than do such a little thing, cast a pinch of incense before one of their idols-aye, I see you have heard the story. Would you have your God be as great a tyrant as any Roman emperor?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But God is real, and they are but idols fashioned by men,\" Gwenhwyfar said.\n\n\"Not so, no more than the picture of Mary Virgin which Arthur bore into battle...\" said Taliesin, \"a picture to give comfort to the minds of the faithful. It is strictly forbidden tome, a Druid, that I may have any representation of any God, for I have been so taught, in many lives, that I need none-I can think upon my God and he is with me. But the once-born cannot do that, and so they need their Goddess in round stones and pools, as your simple people need the picture of Mary Virgin and the cross which some of your knights bear on their shields, so that men may know they are Christian knights.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar knew there was a flaw in this argument, but she could not debate with the Merlin; and in any case, he was only an old man, and a heathen.\n\nWhen I have borne Arthur a son-once he said tome that then I might ask of him anything he could give, and at that time I will ask him to forbid the Beltane fires and the harvest fires.\n\nGwenhwyfar remembered this conversation, months after, on the morning of her dream. No doubt Morgaine would have counselled her so, that she should go with Lancelet to the fires... Arthur had said he would ask her no question if she should bear a child, he had all but given her leave to have Lancelet as a lover... she felt her face flaming as she bent over the cross; she was not fit to touch such stuff. She put the altar cloth from her and wrapped it in apiece of coarser cloth. She would work on it when she was more tranquil.\n\nCai's uneven step sounded at the door of the room. \"My lady,\" he said, \"the King has sent to ask if you would comedown to the arms field to watch. There is something he would show you.\"" } ]
[ { "from": "system", "value": "As the writer's co-author, extend the plot.\nTags: fantasy, arthurian, historical fantasy\nAuthor: Marion Zimmer Bradley\nTitle: The Mists of Avalon\nChapter: 7" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"But God is real, and they are but idols fashioned by men,\" Gwenhwyfar said.\n\n\"Not so, no more than the picture of Mary Virgin which Arthur bore into battle...\" said Taliesin, \"a picture to give comfort to the minds of the faithful. It is strictly forbidden tome, a Druid, that I may have any representation of any God, for I have been so taught, in many lives, that I need none-I can think upon my God and he is with me. But the once-born cannot do that, and so they need their Goddess in round stones and pools, as your simple people need the picture of Mary Virgin and the cross which some of your knights bear on their shields, so that men may know they are Christian knights.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar knew there was a flaw in this argument, but she could not debate with the Merlin; and in any case, he was only an old man, and a heathen.\n\nWhen I have borne Arthur a son-once he said tome that then I might ask of him anything he could give, and at that time I will ask him to forbid the Beltane fires and the harvest fires.\n\nGwenhwyfar remembered this conversation, months after, on the morning of her dream. No doubt Morgaine would have counselled her so, that she should go with Lancelet to the fires... Arthur had said he would ask her no question if she should bear a child, he had all but given her leave to have Lancelet as a lover... she felt her face flaming as she bent over the cross; she was not fit to touch such stuff. She put the altar cloth from her and wrapped it in apiece of coarser cloth. She would work on it when she was more tranquil.\n\nCai's uneven step sounded at the door of the room. \"My lady,\" he said, \"the King has sent to ask if you would comedown to the arms field to watch. There is something he would show you.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar nodded to her ladies. \"Elaine, Meleas, come with me,\" she said. \"You others, you may come or stay here and work, as you like.\"\n\nOne of the women, who was elderly and somewhat shortsighted, chose to stay and goon with her spinning; the others, eager fora chance to get out into the sunlight, flocked after Gwenhwyfar.\n\nIn the night there had been snow, but the strength of the winter was past, and now the snow lay melting quickly in the sun. Little bulbs were poking leaves through the grass; in another month, this would be a wilderness of flowers. When she had come hereto Camelot, her father Leodegranz had sent her his favorite gardener, so that he could decide what vegetables and potherbs would grow best in this site. But this hilltop had been fortified long before Roman times and there were some herbs growing; Gwenhwyfar had had him transplant them all into her kitchen garden, and when they found a patch where flowers were growing wild, Gwenhwyfar begged Arthur that she should be left it for her own lawns, and he had built the arms field further along the hilltop.\n\nShe looked up timidly, as they moved across the lawns. It was so open here, so near to the sky; Caerleon had nestled close to the earth. Here at Camelot, on rainy days, it was like being on an island of fog and mist-like Avalon-but on clear days of sunlight, such as this one, it lay high and exposed, so that it could command all the country round, and standing at the edge of the hilltop she could see miles and miles of hill and forest....\n\nIt was like being too near to Heaven; surely it was not right that human beings, mere mortals, should see so far-but Arthur said, even though there was peace in the land, the King's castle should be difficult to come at." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was not Arthur who came to meet her, but Lancelet. He had grown even handsomer, she thought. Now that he need not keep his hair always hacked short for the war helmet, he had let it grow long, and it curled around his shoulders. He wore a short beard-she liked the fashion on him, though Arthur teased him about it and said he was vain; Arthur himself kept his hair clipped short like a soldier, and had himself shaved everyday by his chamberlains, as carefully and as closely as he combed his hair.\n\n\"Lady, the King is waiting for you,\" said Lancelet, and took her arm to escort her to the set of seats Arthur had had built close to the wooden railings of the exercise field.\n\nArthur bowed to her, thanking Lancelet with a smile as he took Gwenhwyfar's hand. \"Here, Gwen, sit beside me-I brought you here because I want to show you something special. Look there-\"\n\nShe could see that a group of the younger knights and some of the youngsters who served in the King's house were working at a mock battle in the yard: divided into two groups, they were fighting with wooden battens and big shields. \"Look,\" said Arthur, \"the big one in the ragged saffron shirt. Does he not put you in mind of someone?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar looked at the boy, following his skillful work with sword and shield-he broke away from the others, attacked like a fury, toppling them over, caught one lad so hard a blow on his head that he left him stretched senseless, sent another reeling with a fierce blow on the shield. He was only a youngster-his rosy face was fuzzed with the first beginnings of beard, so that he still looked like a cherub-but he was near to six feet tall, and big and broad-shouldered as an ox." }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"He fights like the fiend,\" Gwenhwyfar said, \"but who is he?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "I seem to have seen him about the court-\"\n\n\"He is that young lad who came to court and would not give his name,\" Lancelet said at their elbow, \"so you gave him to Cai to help in the kitchens. He's the one they called'Handsome' because his hands were so fine and white. Cai made all sorts of rude jokes about spoiling them by turning the spit and scrubbing vegetables. Our Cai has a rough tongue.\"\n\n\"But the boy never answered him back,\" said Gawaine gruffly at Arthur's other side. \"He could break Cai with his two hands, but when the other lads urged him onto strike Cai-once Cai made some kind of wicked joke about his parentage, saying he must be base-born and the son of scullions, since he came so naturally to such things-Handsome only looked right over the top of his head and said it would not be well done to strike a man who had lamed himself in the service of his king.\"\n\nLancelet said wryly. \"That would be worse to Cai than being beaten senseless, I think. Cai feels he is fit for nothing but to turn the spit and serve the plates. One day, Arthur, you must find a quest for Cai, even if it is no more than to go and find traces of old Pellinore's dragon.\"\n\nElaine and Meleas giggled behind their hands. Arthur said, \"Well, well, I will. Cai is too good and too loyal to be soured this way. You know I would have given him Caerleon, but he would not take it. He said his father had bidden him to serve me with his own hands so long as he lived, and he would come hereto Camelot to keep my house. But this boy-Handsome, you called him, Lance? Does he not put you in mind of someone, my lady?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She studied the boy, charging now against the last of the opposing group, his long, fair hair flying in the wind. He had a high, broad forehead and a big nose, and his hands, gripped on the weapon, were smooth and white-then she looked past Arthur at just another such nose and blue eyes, though these were hidden in a shock of red hair, and said, \"Why, he is like Gawaine,\" as if it were something shocking.\n\n\"God help us, why, so he is,\" said Lancelet, laughing, \"and I never saw it-and I have seen much of him. I gave him that saffron shirt, he had not a whole shirt to his name-\"\n\n\"And other things, too,\" Gawaine said. \"When I asked him if he had all that was fitting to his station, he told me of your gifts. It was nobly done of you to help the boy, Lance.\"\n\nArthur turned to him and said in surprise, \"Is he, then, one of your brood, Gawaine? I knew not you had a son-\"\n\n\"Nay, my king. It is my-my youngest brother, Gareth. But he would not let me tell.\"\n\n\"And you never told me, cousin?\" Arthur said reproachfully. \"Would you keep secrets from your king?\"\n\n\"Not that,\" protested Gawaine uncomfortably, and his big, slab-sided face flushed red, so that he and his hair and his brick-red cheeks seemed all one color; it seemed strange to Gwenhwyfar that so big and rough a man could blush like a child. \"Never that, my king, but the boy begged me to say nothing-he said you have favored me because I was your cousin and your kinsman, but if he won favor at Arthur's court and from the great Lancelet-he said that, Lance, the great Lancelet-he wished it to be for what he had done, not for his name and his birth.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"That was foolish,\" said Gwenhwyfar, but Lancelet smiled. \"Nay-it was honorably done. Often I have wished I had had wit and courage to do the same, rather than being tolerated because, after all, I was Ban's own bastard and needed not to win anything by merit-it was for that I strove so fiercely always to be valorous in battle, so that none might say I had not earned my favors-\"\n\nArthur laid his hand gently on Lancelot's wrist. \"You need never fear that, my friend,\" he said, \"all men know you are the best of my knights, and closest to my throne. But, Gawaine\"-he turned to the red-haired man-\"I favored not you, either, because you were my kinsman and heir, but only because you were loyal and staunch, and have saved my life a dozen times over. There were those who told me my heir should never be my bodyguard, for if he did his duty too well, then would he never come to the throne, but many and many a day I have had occasion to be glad of so loyal a kinsman at my back.\" He put his arm across Gawaine's shoulders. \"So this is your brother, and I knew it not.\"\n\n\"I knew it not either when he came to court,\" Gawaine said. \"When last I had seen him, at your crowning, he was a little lad no taller than my sword hilt, and now-well, you see.\" He gestured. \"But once I saw him in the kitchens and thought, perhaps, he was some bastard of our kin. God knows, Lot has enough of them-I recognized him, and then it was that Gareth begged me not to reveal who he was, that he might win fame on his own.\"\n\n\"Well, a year under Cai's harsh teachings would make a man of any mother's poppet,\" Lancelet said, \"and he has borne himself manly enough, God knows.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I wonder that you knew him not, Lancelet-he came near to getting you killed at Arthur's wedding,\" Gawaine said amiably. \"Or do you not remember that you handed him over to our mother, and bade her beat him soundly to keep him from under the horses\" feet-\"\n\n\"And I came near to knocking out my brains soon after-aye, I remember now,\" Lancelet said, laughing. \"So that is the same young rascal! But he has far outstripped the other boys, he should practice at arms with the men and knights. It looks now as if he would be among the best of them. Give me leave, my lord?\"\n\n\"Do what you like, my friend.\"\n\nLancelet unbuckled his sword. He said, \"Keep this for me, lady,\" and handed it to Gwenhwyfar. He leaped the fence, caught up one of the wooden battens kept for the boys to practice with, and ran toward the big, fair-haired boy.\n\n\"You are too big for those fellows, sirrah-come here now, and try conclusions with someone nearer your own size!\"\n\nGwenhwyfar thought, in sudden dread, Nearer to your own size? But Lancelet was not so big a man, not much taller than herself, and young Handsome towered almost a full head over him! Fora moment, facing the King's captain of horse, the boy hesitated, but Arthur gestured encouragement, and the boy's face lit up with a fierce joy. He charged at Lancelet, raising his mock weapon fora blow, and was startled when the blow descended and Lancelet was not under it; Lancelet had evaded him, spun round and caught him a blow on the shoulder. He had pulled back on the weapon as it came down so that it only touched the boy, but it tore his shirt. Gareth recovered himself quickly, caught Lancelet's next blow before it landed, and fora moment Lancelet's foot slipped on the wet grass and it looked as if he would go down, skidding to his knees before the boy." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Handsome stepped back. Lancelet got to his feet, yelling, \"Idiot! Suppose I had been a great Saxon warrior!\" and caught the boy a great blow on the back with the flat of his sword, which hurled him, his sword flailing wildly, halfway across the yeard; he went down and lay half-stunned.\n\nLancelet hurried to him and bent over him, smiling. \"I did not want to hurt you, lad, but you must learn to guard yourself better than that.\" He held out his arm. \"Here, lean on me.\"\n\n\"You have honored me, sir,\" said the boy, his fresh face coloring, \"and indeed it did me good to feel your strength.\"\n\nLancelet clapped him on the shoulder. \"May we always fight side by side and not as foemen, Handsome,\" he said, and returned to the King. The youngster picked up his sword and went back to his playmates, while they clustered around and teased him. \"So, Handsome, you came close to knocking down the King's captain of horse in a fight-\"\n\nArthur smiled as Lancelet climbed back over the fence. \"That was courteously done, Lance. He will make a bonny knight-like to his brother,\" he added, nodding at Gawaine. \"Kinsman, do not tell him that I know who he is-his reasons for concealing his name were honorable. But tell him I have seen him, and I will make him a knight at Pentecost, when any petitioner may come before me, if he will come before me and ask me fora sword befitting his station.\"\n\nGawaine's face lighted. Now, Gwenhwyfar thought, anyone who had seen them both should have known the relationship, for their smiles were the same. \"I thank you, my lord and king. May he serve you as well as have I.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"He could hardly do that,\" Arthur said affectionately." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I am fortunate in my friends and Companions.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar thought that, indeed, Arthur inspired love and devotion in everyone-it was the secret of his kingship, for though he was skilled enough in battle, he was no great fighter himself; more than once, in the mock battles with which they amused themselves and kept themselves fit for fighting, she had seen Lancelet, and even old Pellinore, unseat him or knock him from his feet. Arthur was never angry or wounded by pride, but always said good-naturedly that he was glad he had such fine fighters to guard him, and better friends than foemen.\n\nSoon after, the boys picked up their practice weapons and departed. Gawaine went off to have a word with his brother, but Arthur drew Gwenhwyfar out toward the fortified wall. Camelot sat on abroad, high hill, flat at the top as a large town, and allover the hill, inside the wall, they had built their castle and city. Now Arthur led Gwenhwyfar up to his favorite vantage point, where he could stand atop the wall and lookout overall the broad valley. She felt dizzy, and clung to the wall. From where they stood she could seethe island home of her childhood, the country of King Leodegranz, and a little to the north of it, the island that coiled, from where they stood, like a sleeping dragon.\n\n\"Your father grows old, and he has no son,\" said Arthur. \"Who will rule after him?\"\n\n\"I know not-like enough he will have it that you should appoint someone to reign as regent for me,\" Gwenhwyfar said; one of her sisters had died in childbirth, faraway in Wales, and another had died in a siege of their castle. And her father's second wife had borne him no living son, either, so that Gwenhwyfar was heir to that kingdom. But how could she, a woman, keep it from those who were greedy for land? She looked beyond her father's lands and asked, \"Your father-the Pendragon-was he too made king on Dragon Island, I wonder?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "\"So the Lady of the Lake told me, and so he pledged his faith always to shelter the old religion, and Avalon-as did I,\" said Arthur moodily, and stood staring at Dragon Island." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She wondered what pagan nonsense was filling his head.\n\n\"But when you turned to the one true God, then did he give you that greatest of victories, so that you drove the Saxons forth from this island for all of time.\"\n\n\"It is foolish to say so,\" said Arthur. \"Never, I think, can any land be secure for all time, but only as God wills-\"\n\n\"And God has given you all this land, Arthur, so that you may rule as a Christian king. It is like to the prophet Elijah-the bishop told me the tale-when he went outwith the priests of God, and met the priests of Baal, so that they each called on their God, and the One God was the greatest and Baal but an idol, so that he answered them not. If there was anything of power in the ways of Avalon, would God and the Virgin have given you such a victory?\"\n\n\"My armies drove off the Saxons, but I maybe punished hereafter for oathbreaking,\" Arthur said. She hated it when the lines of sorrow and dread came into his face.\n\nShe went a little toward the south, straining her eyes-from here, if you looked hard, you could seethe very tip of the church of Saint Michael which rose on the Tor-the church which had been built because Michael was lord of the underworld, fighting to keep down the gods of the heathen in Hell. Only there were times when it blurred before her eyes, so that she saw the Tor crowned with ring stones. The nuns on Glastonbury had told her that it had been so, in the bad old heathen days, and the priests had labored to take down the ring stones and haul them away. She supposed it was because she was a sinful woman that she had this glance into heathendom. Once she had dreamed that she and Lancelet were lying together beneath the ring stones, and he had had of her what she had never given him...." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet. He was so good, never did he press her for more than a Christian woman and a wedded wife could give him without dishonor... yet it was written that the Christ had said himself, whoever looks upon a woman with lust has committed adultery already with her in his heart... so she had sinned with Lancelet, and there was no mitigation, they were both damned. She shivered and turned her eyes away from the Tor, for it seemed that Arthur could read her thoughts. He had spoken Lancelet's name-\n\n\"Don't you think so, Gwen? It's more than time Lancelet should marry.\"\n\nShe forced her voice to stay calm. \"On the day when he asks you fora wife, my lord and my king, you should give him one.\"\n\n\"But he will not ask,\" Arthur said. \"He has no will to leave me. Pellinore's daughter would make him a good wife, and she is your own cousin-don't you think it would suit? Lancelet is not rich, Ban had too many bastards to give much to anyone of them. It would be a good match for both.\"\n\n\"Aye, no doubt you are right,\" Gwenhwyfar said. \"Elaine follows him about with her eyes as the lads in the play yard do, eager fora kind word or even a look.\" Though it hurt her heart, perhaps it would be best if Lancelet should marry, he was too good to be tied to a woman who could give him so little; and then she could amend her sin with a firm promise to sin no more, as she could not do when Lancelet was near.\n\n\"Well, I will speak of it again with Lancelet. He says he has no mind to marry, but I will make him understand it means not exile from my court. Would it not be good for me and mine, if our children, someday, might have Lancelet's sons to follow them?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Continue" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"God grant that day may come,\" said Gwenhwyfar, and crossed herself. They stood together at the height, looking out over the Summer Country, which lay spread before them.\n\n\"There is a rider on the road,\" said Arthur, looking down the road which led toward the castle; then, as the rider drew nearer, \"It is Kevin the Harper, come here from Avalon. And at least this time he has had sense enough to travel with a serving-man.\"\n\n\"That is no serving-man,\" said Gwenhwyfar, her sharp eyes resting on the slender form riding behind Kevin on his horse. \"That is a woman. I am shocked-I had thought the Druids were like to priests, and stayed far from women.\"\n\n\"Why, some of them do, sweetheart, but I have heard from Taliesin that all those who are not in the highest rank may marry, and frequently they do,\" he said. \"Perhaps Kevin has taken him a wife, or perhaps he has only travelled with someone coming this way. Send one of your women to tell Taliesin that he is here, and another to the kitchens-if we shall have music this night, it is only fitting we have something like a feast to celebrate it! Let us walk this way and welcome him-a harper of Kevin's skill is worthy of welcome from the King himself.\"\n\nBy the time they reached the great gates, they had been opened, and Cai himself had stepped forward to welcome the great harper to Camelot. Kevin bowed to the King, but Gwenhwyfar's eyes were on the slender, ill-clad form behind.\n\nMorgaine bowed and said, \"So I have returned to your court, my brother.\"\n\nArthur went and embraced her. \"Welcome back, my sister-it has been so long,\" he said, his cheek lingering against hers. \"And now that our mother has gone from us, we who are kinfolk should be together. Do not go from me again, sister.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She said, \"I had no thought of it.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar came and embraced her too, feeling the other woman's body sharp-boned and thin against her arms. She said, \"You look as if you had been long on the road, my sister.\"\n\n\"True-I have come very far,\" Morgaine said, and Gwenhwyfar kept her hand as they walked within.\n\n\"Where have you been? You were so long away-almost I thought you would never return,\" Gwenhwyfar said.\n\n\"Almost I thought so myself,\" said Morgaine. But, Gwenhwyfar noticed, she did not say, either, where she had been.\n\n\"Such gear as you left with us-your harp, your gowns, all these things-they were left at Caerleon. Tomorrow I will send for them as swiftly as a messenger can ride,\" Gwenhwyfar said, as she took her to the room where her women slept. \"Till then, if you will, I will lend you a gown-you have been travelling long, sister, and you look as if you had been sleeping within a cow byre. Were you attacked by robbers and your gear stolen?\"\n\n\"I had ill fortune indeed on the road,\" Morgaine said, \"and if you will send someone tome that I may bathe, and dress myself clean, I will bless you. I would ask the loan of a comb too, and pins for my hair, and a shift.\"\n\n\"My gown will be too long for you,\" said Gwenhwyfar, \"but no doubt you can pin it up somehow until your own clothes have come. Combs and veils and shifts I will give you gladly, and shoes as well-those look as if you had walked in them from hereto Lothian and back!\" She beckoned to one of her waiting-women and said, \"Bring the red gown, and the veil that goes with it, and a shift and my other indoor shoes and hose-choose everything so that my lord's sister is dressed as is fitting to her station. And send fora bath and a bath-woman too.\" She looked disdainfully at the gown Morgaine was taking off, and said, \"If that one cannot be fitly aired and cleaned, give it to one of the dairy-women!\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "When Morgaine appeared at the King's table she wore the red gown, which lent color to her dark skin and became her well; they besought her to sing, but she would not, saying that as Kevin was at hand, no one would listen to a robin's chirping when a nightingale was near.\n\nThe next day Kevin sought private audience with Arthur, and he and the King and Taliesin, too, were closeted for many hours, and even had supper brought to them there; but Gwenhwyfar never knew what they spoke of-Arthur told her little of affairs of state. No doubt, they were angered with him that he had chosen to renounce his vows to Avalon, but soon or late they must accept it-that he was a Christian king. As for Gwenhwyfar, she had other things to think of.\n\nTHAT SPRING THERE WAS fever at the court, and some of her women fell sick of it, so that until Easter was past she had no leisure to think of anything else. She had never thought she would be glad of Morgaine's presence, but Morgaine knew much of herb lore and of healing, and she thought it was due to Morgaine's wisdom that there were no deaths in the court-in the country round, she heard, many died, though mostly little children and old folk. Her little half-sister Isotta took the fever, but her mother heard and would not have her stay at court, so that she was sent back to the island, and later in that month Gwenhwyfar heard that she had died. She mourned for the girl-she had come to be fond of her, and had hoped to marry her to one of Arthur's Companions when she was older.\n\nLancelet fell sick of the fever too, and Arthur gave orders that he should be quartered in the castle and nursed by her own women. While there was still danger that she might take the fever she did not go near him-she had hoped herself pregnant again, but it turned out not to be so; only her own hopes and illusions. When he began to recover she went often and sat by his side." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine came too, to play the harp, while he was unable to leave his bed. One day, watching them when they spoke of Avalon, Gwenhwyfar caught the look in Morgaine's eyes, and thought, Why, she still loves him! She knew Arthur still hoped for this-a match between Morgaine and Lancelet and she watched, sick with jealousy, as Lancelet listened to Morgaine's harp.\n\nHer voice is so sweet; she is not beautiful, but she is so wise and learned-beautiful women are so many, Elaine is beautiful, and Meleas, and the daughter of King Royns, and even Morgause is beautiful, but why should Lancelet care for that? And she marked the gentleness of Morgaine's hands as she lifted him and gave him her herb medicines and cooling drinks. She, Gwenhwyfar, was not good at all with the sick, she had no skills, she sat dumb while Morgaine talked and laughed and amused him.\n\nIt was growing dark, and at last Morgaine said, \"I can no longer seethe harp strings, and I am hoarse as a crow-I can sing no more. You must drink your medicine, Lancelet, and then I will send your man to you, to get you settled for the night-\"\n\nWith awry smile Lancelet took the cup she put in his hand. \"Your drinks are cooling, kinswoman, but ugh! The taste of them-\"\n\n\"Drink it,\" Morgaine said, laughing. \"Arthur has put you under my command when you are sick-\"\n\n\"Aye, and I do not doubt, if I refused you should beat me and put me supperless to bed, while if I drink my medicine like a good lad I shall have a kiss and a honey cake,\" Lancelet said." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Morgaine chuckled." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"You cannot have a honey cake yet, you can have your nice gruel. But if you drink up your potion, you shall have a goodnight kiss and I will bake you a honey cake when you are well enough to eat it.\"\n\n\"Yes, Mother,\" Lancelet said, wrinkling up his nose. Gwenhwyfar could see that Morgaine did not like the jest, but when he had emptied the cup she bent over him and kissed him lightly on the brow, and drew up the covers under his chin as a mother smooths a child's cradle. \"There, now, good child, go to sleep,\" she said, laughing, but the laughter sounded bitter to Gwenhwyfar, and Morgaine went away.\n\nGwenhwyfar stood by Lancelet's bed, and said, \"She is right, my dear, you should sleep.\"\n\n\"I am weary of Morgaine being always right,\" said Lancelet. \"Sit you hereby me fora little, dear love-\"\n\nIt was seldom he dared speak so to her, but she sat herself on his bed and let him hold her hand. After a little he pulled her down beside him and kissed her; she lay along the edge of his bed and let him kiss her again and again, but after along time he sighed, weary, and did not protest when she rose from his side. \"My dearest love, this cannot goon like this. You must give me leave to depart from the court.\"\n\n\"What? To chase Pellinore's favorite dragon? Why, what will Pel-linore do in holidaytime, then? It is his favorite hunting,\" Gwenhwyfar said, jesting, but it was like a pain in her heart.\n\nHe seized both her arms, pulling her down. \"No, make this not a jest, Gwen-you know it and I know it, and God help us both, I think even Arthur knows it, that I have loved none but you, or ever will, since first I set eyes on you in your father's house. And if I am to remain a true man to my king and my friend, then I must depart from this court and never set eyes on you again-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar said, \"I would not hold you, if you feel that you must go-\"\n\n\"As I have gone before,\" he said violently. \"Every time I rode forth to war, half of me longed that I should fall at Saxon hands and return no more to hopeless love-God forgive me, there were times when I hated my king, whom I have sworn to love and serve, and then I thought, no woman should part the friendship that was between us two, and I have sworn I would think of you no more, save as the wife of my king. But now there are no more wars, and I must sit here day by day and look upon you at his side in his high seat, and think of you in his bed, his happy and contented wife-\"\n\n\"Why do you think I am anymore happy or contented than you?\" she demanded, her voice shaking. \"At least you can choose whether to stay or to go, but I was given into Arthur's hands without even so much as'will you or no? ' Nor can I rise and ride forth from court when things go not to my will, but must stay here within walls and do what is expected of me... if you must go, I cannot say, Stay; and if you stay, I cannot say to you, Go! At least you are free to go or to stay as makes you happiest!\"\n\n\"Do you think there is happiness for me, either in staying or going?\" Lancelet demanded, and fora moment she thought that he would weep. Then he mastered himself and said, \"Love, what do you want me to do? God forbid I should give you more unhappiness. If I am gone from here, then is your duty plain, to be a good wife to Arthur, no more and no less. If I stay here-\" He broke off." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"If you feel it is your duty to go,\" she said, \"then you must go.\" And tears flooded down her face, blurring her sight.\n\nHe said, and his voice was strained as if he had had a mortal wound, \"Gwenhwyfar-\" He so seldom spoke her formal name, it was always my lady or my queen, or when he spoke to her in play it was always Gwen. When he spoke it now, it seemed to her she had never heard a sweeter sound. \"Gwenhwyfar. Why do you weep?\"\n\nNow she must lie, and lie well, because she could not in honor tell him the truth. She said, \"Because-\" and stopped, and then, in a choking voice, she said, \"because I do not know how I shall live if you go away.\"\n\nHe swallowed hard and took her hands between his own and said, \"Why, then-why, love-I am not a king, but my father has given me a small estate in Brittany. Would you come with me away from this court? I-I know not, perhaps it would be the more honorable way, than stay here at Arthur's court and make love to his wife-\"\n\nHe loves me, then, Gwenhwyfar thought, he wants me, this is the honorable way... but panic flooded through her. Togo forth alone, so far, even with Lancelet... and then the thought of what everyone would say of her, should she be so dishonored....\n\nHe lay clasping her hand in his. He said, \"We could never return, you know-never. And it's likely we should be excommunicated, both of us-that would mean little tome, I am not so much a Christian as all that. But you, my Gwenhwyfar-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She put up her veil over her face and wept, knowing what a coward she was.\n\n\"Gwenhwyfar,\" he said, \"I would not lead you into sin-\"\n\nShe said bitterly, \"We have sinned already, you and I-\"\n\n\"And if the priests are right we will be damned for it,\" Lancelet said bitterly, \"and yet have I never had more of you than these kisses-we have had all the evil and the guilt, and none of the pleasure which is said to come from sin. And I am not so sure I believe the priests-what sort of God goes about every night like a nightwatchman, peeping here and prying there like an old village gossip to see if any man beds with his neighbor's wife-\"\n\n\"The Merlin said something like that,\" Gwenhwyfar said, low. \"And sometimes it seems tome sensible, and then again I wonder if it is the Devil's work to lead me into evil....\"\n\n\"Oh, talk not tome of the Devil,\" he said, and pulled her down beside him again. \"Sweetheart, my own, I will go away if you want me to, or I will stay, but I cannot bear to see you so unhappy....\"\n\n\"I do not know what I want,\" she wept, and let him hold her, sobbing. At last he murmured, \"We have paid for the sin already...\" and his mouth covered hers. Trembling, Gwenhwyfar let herself surrender to the kiss, his eager hands searching at her breast. She almost hoped that this time he would not be content with that, but there was a sound in the hallway and Gwenhwyfar drew herself upright, in sudden panic. She sat on the edge of the bed as Lancelet's esquire came into the room. He coughed and said, \"My lord? The lady Morgaine told me you were ready to go to your rest. By your leave, my lady-?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Morgaine again, damn her!" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet laughed and let goof Gwenhwyfar's hand. \"Yes, and I doubt it not, my lady is weary. Will you promise to come and see me tomorrow, my queen?\"\n\nShe was both grateful and angry that his voice sounded so calm. She turned away from the light the serving-man carried; she knew her veil was crushed and her dress rumpled, her face smeared with crying and her hair coming down. How she must look-what would the man think they had been doing? She put her veil over her face and rose. \"Goodnight, sir Lancelet. Kerval, care you well for my king's dear friend,\" and went out, hoping forlornly that she could get down the hall to her own room before she burst into weeping again. Ah God, how-how dare I pray to God that I may sin further? I should pray to be free of temptation, and I cannot!\n\nA day or two before Beltane-eve, Kevin the Harper came again to Arthur's court. Morgaine was glad to see him; it had been along and weary springtime. Lancelet had recovered from the fever and gone north to Lothian, and Morgaine had thought she should ride to Lothian too, to see how it was with her son; but she did not want to go in Lancelet's company, nor would he have wished for her as a travelling companion; she thought, My son is well where he is, another time I will go and see him.\n\nGwenhwyfar was sorrowful and silent; in the years Morgaine had been absent, the Queen had altered from a lighthearted, childish woman to a silent, thoughtful one, more pious than was reasonable. Morgaine suspected that she pined after Lancelet, and knowing Lancelet, Morgaine thought with a touch of contempt that he would neither leave the woman in peace nor lead her wholeheartedly into sin. And Gwenhwyfar was a good match for him-she would neither give into him nor give him up. She wondered what Arthur thought, but it would have taken a braver woman than she to ask him." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine welcomed Kevin to court, and to herself she thought it not unlikely that they would keep Beltane together-the sun tides ran hot in her blood, and if she could not have the man she wanted (and she knew it was still Lancelet to whom she was drawn), it might be as well to take a lover who found delight in her; it was good to be cherished and sought after. And, as neither Arthur nor Lancelet would do, Kevin spoke with her freely of affairs of state. She thought, with a moment of bitter regret, had she stayed in Avalon, by now, she would be consulted in all the great affairs of her time.\n\nWell, it was too late for that; done was done. So she greeted Kevin in the great hall and had him served food and wine, a task Gwenhwyfar gladly gave over to her-Gwenhwyfar liked well enough to hear Kevin play on the harp, but she could not bear the sight of him. So Morgaine served him, and spoke to him of Avalon.\n\n\"Is Viviane well?\"\n\n\"Well, and still resolved to come to Camelot at Pentecost,\" said Kevin, \"and it is well, for Arthur would scarce listen tome. Though he has promised not to forbid the Beltane fires this year, at least.\"\n\n\"It would do him little good to forbid them,\" said Morgaine. \"But Arthur has trouble nearer home, too.\" She gestured. \"Beyond that window, almost within sight from the heights of the castle, lies the island kingdom of Leodegranz-had you heard?\"\n\n\"A chance-come traveller told me he was dead,\" Kevin said, \"and he left no son. His lady Alienor died with her last child, a few days after his death. The fever was cruel in that country.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"Gwenhwyfar would not travel thither for the burying,\" Morgaine said. \"She had little to weep for-hers was not a loving father. Arthur will have consulted her about setting a regent there-he says that now the kingdom is hers, and if they should have a second son, that son shall have it. But it seems not likely now that Gwenhwyfar will have even one.\"\n\nKevin nodded slowly. \"Aye, she miscarried of a child before Mount Badon, and was very ill. Since then I have not heard even a rumor that she was pregnant,\" said Kevin. \"How old is the High Queen?\"\n\n\"I think she is at least five-and-twenty now,\" said Morgaine, but she was not certain, she had dwelt so long in the fairy country.\n\n\"That is old fora first child,\" said Kevin, \"though, I doubt not, like all barren women, she prays fora miracle. What ails the Queen that she does not conceive?\"\n\n\"I am no midwife,\" said Morgaine. \"She seems healthy enough, but she has worn out her knees in prayer, and there is no sign.\"\n\n\"Well, the Gods will have it as they will,\" Kevin said, \"but we will need their mercy on this land if the High King dies with no son! And now there are no threats from the Saxons outside to keep the rival kings of Britain from falling one upon the other and tearing this land to shreds. I never trusted Lot, but he is dead, and Gawaine is Arthur's staunchest man, so there is little to fear from Lothian, unless Morgause finds herself a lover with ambition to be High King on his own.\"\n\n\"Lancelet has gone there, but he should return quickly,\" said Morgaine, and Kevin added, \"Viviane, too, would ride to Lothian for some reason, though we thought, all of us, that she was too old for such a journey.\" Why, then, she will see my son.... Morgaine's heart leapt, and there was a tightness like pain, or weeping, in her throat. Kevin seemed not to see." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I met not with Lancelet on the road,\" he said. \"No doubt he took another road, or stayed to greet his mother, or perhaps\"-he grinned slyly-\"to keep the Beltane feast. That would give joy to every woman in Lothian, if he tarried there. Morgause would not let such a tender morsel escape her clutches.\"\n\n\"She is his mother's sister,\" Morgaine said, \"and I think Lance is too good a Christian for that. He has courage enough to face the Saxons in battle, but small courage for that battle.\"\n\nKevin raised his eyebrows. \"Oh ho, is it so? I doubt not you speak from knowledge,\" he said, \"but for politeness'sake we will say it is from the Sight! But Morgause would like well to see Arthur's best knight brought low by scandal-then would Gawaine stand nearer to the throne. And the lady is liked well by all men-she is not so old, either, but still beautiful, her hair still red as ever without a line of grey-\"\n\n\"Oh,\" said Morgaine caustically, \"they sell henna from Egypt in the markets of Lothian.\"\n\n\"And her waist is slim, and they say she practices magic arts to spellbind men to her,\" Kevin said, \"but this is gossip and no more. I have heard she has ruled well enough in Lothian. Do you dislike her so much, Morgaine?\"\n\n\"No. She is my kinswoman and has been good tome,\" Morgaine said, and started to say, She fostered my child, and that would open the way to ask if he had heard news of Gwydion... then she stopped herself. Even to Kevin she could not confess that. She said, instead, \"But I like it not that my kinswoman Morgause should be the common talk of Britain as a bawd.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Keep going" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It is not so bad as that,\" Kevin said, laughing, and put away his wine cup. \"If the lady has an eye to handsome men, she would not be the first or last. And now Morgause is widowed, no man can call her to account for who lies in her bed. But I must not keep the High King waiting. Wish me fortune, Morgaine, for I must bring ill news to my king, and you know the doom meted of old to him who brought the king news he had no mind to hear!\"\n\n\"Arthur is not that sort,\" said Morgaine. \"But if it is not secret, what ill news do you bring?\"\n\n\"Not news at all,\" said Kevin, \"for it has been said more than once that Avalon will not have it that he rule as a Christian king, whatever his private faith maybe. He shall not allow the priests to put down the worship of the Goddess, nor touch the oak groves. And if he does so, then am Ito say to him from the Lady: the hand which gave him the sacred sword of the Druids can turn it in his hand to smite him.\"\n\n\"That will not be pleasant hearing,\" said Morgaine, \"but perhaps it will call his oath to mind.\"\n\n\"Aye, and Viviane has still one other weapon she can use,\" said Kevin, but when Morgaine asked what, he would tell her no more.\n\nWhen he had gone from her, Morgaine sat thinking of the night to come. There would be music at dinner, and later-well, Kevin was a pleasant lover, gentle and eager to please her, and she was wearied of sleeping alone.\n\nShe was still sitting in the hall when Cai came to announce that another rider had come-\"A kinsman of yours, lady Morgaine. Would you greet him and serve him wine?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Morgaine agreed-had Lancelet returned so soon already?" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "-but the rider was Balan.\n\nShe hardly knew him at first-he was heavier, so big now that she supposed it must take an oversized horse to carry his weight. But he recognized her at once.\n\n\"Morgaine! Greetings, kinswoman,\" he said, and sat beside her, taking the cup she offered. She told him that Arthur was speaking with Kevin and the Merlin, but would see him at dinner, and asked him for the news.\n\n\"Only that a dragon has been sighted again in the North,\" Balan said, \"and no, this is no fantasy like old Pellinore's-I saw the track where it had been, and talked with two of the people who had seen it. They were not lying, nor telling a tale to amuse or give themselves importance; they were in terror of their lives. They said it had come out of the lake and taken their serving-man-they showed me his shoe.\"\n\n\"His-shoe, kinsman?\"\n\n\"He lost it when he was taken, and I did not like touching the-slime-that besmeared it,\" Balan said. \"I am going to ask Arthur for half a dozen knights to ride with me and put an end to it.\"\n\n\"You must ask Lancelet, if he returns,\" Morgaine said, as lightly as she could. \"He will need some practice with dragons. I think Arthur is trying to make a match between Lancelet and Pellinore's daughter.\"\n\nBalan looked at her sharply. \"I do not envy the girl who has my little brother for husband,\" he said. \"I have heard his heart is given-or should I not say-\"\n\n\"You should not say it,\" said Morgaine.\n\nBalan shrugged. \"So be it. Arthur then has no special reason for wishing to find Lancelet a bride well away from court,\" he said. \"I had not heard that you had comeback to court, kinswoman. You look well.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"And how is it with your foster-brother?\"\n\n\"Balin is well enough, when last I saw him,\" said Balan, \"though he still has no love for Viviane. Still, there is no reason to believe he bears grudge for our mother's death. He raved and swore revenge then, but he would have to be a madman indeed to think still of such things. In any case, if such was his thought, he spoke not of it when he was here at Pentecost a year ago. That is Arthur's newest custom, you may not know-that wherever we may travel in all of Britain, everyone of his old Companions should gather at Pentecost and dine at his table. At that time, too, he makes new Companions in the order of knighthood, and he will accept any petitioner, however humble-\"\n\n\"Yes, I had heard of that,\" said Morgaine, and a flicker of unease passed over her. Kevin had spoken of Viviane-she told herself it was only disquiet at the idea that a woman of the Lady's years might come here as a common petitioner. As Balan said, it would take a madman to harbor thoughts of revenge after all this time.\n\nThat night there was music, Kevin's fine playing and singing; and later still that night, Morgaine slipped from the chamber where she slept with Gwenhwyfar's unwedded ladies, as noiselessly as a ghost-or as a priestess trained in Avalon-and made her way to the chamber where Kevin slept. She left there before daylight, well contented, but one thing Kevin had said-though they had had other things to speak of than Arthur-troubled her mind.\n\n\"Arthur would not listen tome,\" he said. \"He told me that the folk of England were a Christian people, and while he would not persecute any man for following what Gods he liked, still he would stand with the priests and the church, as they had stood by his throne. And he sent word to the Lady of Avalon that if she would have back the sword, she could come and take it.\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Even after she had crept back into her own bed, Morgaine lay wakeful." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "It was the legendary sword which had bound so many of the Tribesmen and Northmen to Arthur; and it was his allegiance to Avalon which had bound the dark pre-Roman people. Now, it seemed, Arthur was further from that allegiance than he had ever been.\n\nShe could speak with him-but no, he would not listen to her; she was a woman and his sister-and always, between them, lay the memory of that morning after the kingmaking, so that never could they speak freely as they might have done before. And she did not carry the authority of Avalon; with her own hands had she cast that away.\n\nIt might be that Viviane could make him seethe importance of keeping to his oath. But tell herself this as she would, it was long before Morgaine could close her eyes and sleep.\n\nEven before she rose from her bed, Gwenhwyfar could feel the bright sunlight through the bed-curtains-Summer is here. And then, Beltane. The very fullness of pagandom-she was sure that many of her serving-men and women would be slipping away from the court tonight, when the Beltane fires were lighted on Dragon Island in honor of their Goddess, thereto lie in the fields... some of them, no doubt, to come home again with their wombs quickened with the child of the God... and I, a Christian wife, cannot bear a son to my own dear lord....\n\nShe turned over in bed and lay watching Arthur's sleep. Oh, yes, he washer dear lord, and she loved him well. He had taken her as part of a dowry and sight unseen; yet he had loved her, cherished her, honored her-it was not her fault that she could not do the first duty of a queen and bear him a son for his kingdom." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Lancelet-no, she had sworn to herself, when last he went from court, she would think no more of him. She still hungered for him, heart and soul and body, but she had vowed that she would be a loyal and a faithful wife to Arthur; never again should Lancelet have from her even these games and toyings which made them both ache for more... it was playing at sin, even if there was nothing worse.\n\nBeltane. Well, perhaps, as a Christian woman and queen of a Christian court, it washer duty to make such feastings and play this day as all the people of the court should enjoy without harm to their souls. She knew that Arthur had sent out word of games and arms practice to beheld for prizes, at Pentecost-as he had done each year since the court came hereto Camelot; but there were enough of his people here that some sport could be had this day too-she would offer a silver cup. And there should be harping and dancing, too, and she would do for the women what sometimes they did in play, offer a ribbon for the woman who could spin the most yarn in an hour, or work the largest piece of tapestry-yes, there should be innocent sport so that none of her people should regret the forbidden play on Dragon Island. She sat up and began to dress herself; she must go and talk to Cai.\n\nBut, although she busied herself all the morning, and Arthur when she spoke of it was pleased, thinking it the best of devices, so that he and Cai spent the morning in talking of the prizes they would offer for the best swordplay and horsemanship, yes, and there should be a prize, perhaps a cloak, for the best among the boys-still, inside her heart, the thought gnawed. It is the day on which the ancient Gods demand that we honor fertility, and I, I am still barren. And so, an hour before high noon, at which hour the trumpets would be blown to gather men before the arms field to begin their sport, Gwenhwyfar sought out Morgaine, yet not quite certain what she would say to her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Morgaine had taken charge of the dyeing room for the wool they spun, and was also in charge of the Queen's brew-women-she knew how to keep ale from spoiling when it was brewed, and how to distill strong spirit for medicines, and make perfumes of flower petals which were finer than those brought from over the seas and more costly than gold." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "There were some women in the castle who believed this was magic art, but Morgaine said no, it was only that she had been taught about the properties of plants and grains and flowers. Any woman, Morgaine said, could do what she did, if she was neat-handed and willing to take the time and trouble to see to it.\n\nGwenhwyfar found her with her holiday gown tied up and her hair covered with a cloth, sniffing at a batch of beer which had spoilt in the vats. \"Throw it away,\" she said. \"The barm must have got cold, and it has soured. We can start with another batch tomorrow-there is plenty for this day, even with the Queen's feasting, whatever put it into her head.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar asked, \"Have you no mind to feasting, sister?\"\n\nMorgaine turned. \"Not truly,\" she said, \"but I marvel that you have, Gwen-I thought on Beltane you would be all for pious fasting and prayer, if only to show you were not one of those who made merry in honor of the Goddess of the crops and fields.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar colored-she never knew if Morgaine was making fun of her. \"Perhaps God has ordained it, that people shall make merry in honor of the coming of the summer, and there is no need to speak of the Goddess... oh, I know not what I think-believe you that the Goddess gives life to crops and fields and the wombs of ewes and heifers and women?\"\n\n\"I was so taught in Avalon, Gwen. Why do you ask this now?\" Morgaine took off the headcloth with which she had covered her hair, and Gwenhwyfar thought suddenly that Morgaine was beautiful. Morgaine was older than Gwenhwyfar-she must be past thirty; but she looked no older than when Gwenhwyfar had first seen her... it was no wonder all men thought her a sorceress! She wore a fine-spun gown of dark blue wool, very plain, but colored ribbons were braided into her dark hair, which was looped about her ears and fastened with a gold pin. Next to her, Gwenhwyfar felt dull as a hen, a simple homekeeping woman, even though she was High Queen of Britain and Morgaine only a heathen duchess." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Morgaine knew so much, and she herself was so unlearned-she could do no more than write her name and read a little in her Gospel book. While Morgaine was skilled in all the clerkly arts, she could read and write, and yes, she knew the housewifely arts too-she could spin and weave and do fine embroideries, and dyeing and brewing, yes, and herb lore and magic as well. At last Gwenhwyfar faltered, \"My sister-they have said it as a jest, but is it-is it true, that you know-all manner of charms and spells for fertility? I-I cannot live with it any longer, that every lady at court watches every morsel I eat to see if I am breeding, or takes note of how tight I tie my girdle! Morgaine, if indeed you know these charms they say you know-my sister, I beg you-will you use those arts for me?\"\n\nMoved and troubled, Morgaine laid a hand on Gwenhwyfar's arm. \"In Avalon, it is true, it is said that such and such things can help if a woman does not bear when she should-but Gwenhwyfar-\" She hesitated, and Gwenhwyfar felt her face flooding with shame. At last Morgaine went on. \"I am not the Goddess. It maybe that it is her will that you and Arthur should have no children. Would you really try to turn the will of God with spells and charms?\"\n\nGwenhwyfar said violently, \"Even Christ in the garden prayed, \"If it be thy will, let this cup pass from me-\"\"\n\n\"But he said also, Gwen-\"Not my will, Lord, be done, but thine,\"\" Morgaine reminded her." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"I wonder that you know such things-\"\n\n\"I dwelt in Igraine's household for eleven years, Gwenhwyfar, and I heard the gospel preached as often as you.\"\n\n\"Yet I cannot see how it should be God's will that the kingdom be torn again by chaos if Arthur should die,\" Gwenhwyfar said and heard her own voice rise, sharp and angry. \"All these years I have been faithful-yes, I know you do not believe it, I suppose you think what all the women in the court think, that I have betrayed my lord for the love of Lancelet-but it is not so, Morgaine, I swear it is not so-\"\n\n\"Gwenhwyfar, Gwenhwyfar! I am not your confessor! I have not accused you!\"\n\n\"But you would if you could, and I think you are jealous,\" Gwenhwyfar retorted at white heat, and then cried out in contrition, \"Oh, no! No, I do not want to quarrel with you, Morgaine, my sister-oh, no, I came to beg you for your help-\" She felt the tears break from her eyes. \"I have done no wrong, I have been a good and loyal wife, I have kept my lord's house and strove to bring honor to his court, I have prayed for him and tried to do the will of God, I have failed no whit of my duty, and yet-and yet-for all of my loyalty and duty-I have not even had my part of the bargain. Every whore in the streets, every soldier's camp follower, they go about flaunting their big bellies and their fruitfulness, and I-I have had nothing, nothing-\" She was sobbing wildly, her hands over her face.\n\nMorgaine's voice sounded puzzled but tender, and she putout her arms and drew Gwenhwyfar to her. \"Don't cry, don't cry-Gwenhwyfar, look at me, is it so much a sorrow to you that you have no child?\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Next" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Gwenhwyfar struggled to control her weeping. She said, \"I can think of nothing else, day and night-\"\n\nAfter along time, Morgaine said, \"Aye, I can see it is hard for you.\" It seemed she could actually hear Gwenhwyfar's thoughts:\n\nIf I had a child, I would not think night and day of this love which tempts my honor, for all my thoughts would be given to Arthur's son.\n\n\"I would that I could help you, sister-but I am unwilling to have doings with charms and magic. We are taught in Avalon that simple folk may need such things, but the wise meddle not with them, but bear the lot the Gods have sent them.\" And as she spoke she felt herself a hypocrite; she was remembering the morning when she had gone out to find roots and herbs fora potion which would keep her from bearing Arthur's child. That had not been surrendering herself to the will of the Goddess! But in the end she had not done it, either-\n\nAnd then Morgaine wondered, in sudden weariness: I who did not want a child, and who came near to death in bearing it, I bore my child; Gwenhwyfar, who longs night and day for one, goes with empty womb and empty arms. Is this the goodness of the will of the Gods?\n\nYet she felt compelled to say, \"Gwenhwyfar, I would have you bear this in mind-charms often work as you would not that they would do. What makes you believe the Goddess I serve can send you a son when your God, who is supposed to be greater than all the other Gods, cannot?\"\n\nIt sounded like blasphemy, and Gwenhwyfar was ashamed of herself. Yet she found herself thinking, and saying aloud in a voice that choked as she spoke, \"I think perhaps God cares nothing for women-all his priests are men, and again and again the Scriptures tell us that women are the temptress and evil-it maybe that is why he does not hear me. And for this I would go to the Goddess-God does not care-\" And then she was weeping stormily again. \"Morgaine,\" she cried, \"if you cannot help me, I swear I will go tonight to Dragon Island in the boat, I shall bribe my serving-man to take me there, and when the fires are lighted I too shall entreat the Goddess to give me the gift of a child... I swear it, Morgaine, that I will do this....\" And she saw herself in the light of the fires, circling the flames, going apart in the grip of a strange and faceless man, lying in his arms-the thought made her whole body cramp tight with pain and a half-shamed pleasure." }, { "from": "human", "value": "Morgaine listened ingrowing horror." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "She would never do it, she would lose her courage at the last moment... I was frightened, even I, and I had always known my maidenhead was for the God. But then, hearing the utter despair in her sister-in-law's voice, she thought, Aye, but she might; and if she did, she would hate herself all her lifelong.\n\nThere was no sound in the room but Gwenhwyfar's sobbing. Morgaine waited until it quieted a little, then said, \"Sister, I will do for you what I can. Arthur can give you a child, you need not go to the Beltane fire, or seek one elsewhere. You must never say aloud that I have told you this, promise me that, and ask me no questions. But Arthur has indeed sired a\" child.\"\n\nGwenhwyfar stared at her. \"He told me he had no children-\"\n\n\"It maybe that he does not know. But I have seen the child myself. He is being fostered at Morgause's court.\"\n\n\"Why, then, he has already a son and if I do not bear him one-\"\n\n\"No!\" said Morgaine quickly, and her voice was harsh. \"I have told you-you must never speak of this, the child is not such a one as he could acknowledge. If you give him no child, then must the kingdom go to Gawaine. Gwenhwyfar, ask me no more, for I will not tell you more than this-if you do not bear, it is not Arthur's fault.\"\n\n\"I have not even conceived since last harvesttime-and only three times in all these years-\" Gwenhwyfar swallowed, wiping her face on her veil. \"If I offer myself to the Goddess-she will be merciful tome-\"" }, { "from": "human", "value": "Morgaine sighed." }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "\"It might be so. You must not go to Dragon Island. You can conceive, I know-perhaps a charm could help you to carry a child to birth. But I warn you again, Gwenhwyfar: charms do not their magic as men and women would have it, but by their own laws, and those laws areas strange as the running of time in the fairy country. Do not seek to blame me, Gwenhwyfar, if the charm acts other than you think it should.\"\n\n\"If it gives me even a slight chance of a child by my lord-\" \"That it should do,\" Morgaine said, and turned, Gwenhwyfar following after her like a child being led by her mother. What would the charm be, Gwenhwyfar wondered and what would it do, and why did Morgaine look so strange and solemn-as if she were that Great Goddess herself? But, she told herself, taking a deep breath, she would accept whatever came, if it might give her what she desired most.\n\nAn hour later, when the trumpets were blown and Morgaine and Gwenhwyfar were sitting side by side at the edge of the field, Elaine leaned over to them and said, \"Look! Who is that riding into the field at Gawaine's side?\"\n\n\"It is Lancelet,\" said Gwenhwyfar breathlessly. \"He has come home.\" He was handsomer than ever. Somewhere he had gotten a red slash on his cheek, which should have been ugly, but it gave him the fierce beauty of a wildcat. He rode as if he were part of the horse's self, and Gwenhwyfar listened to Elaine's chatter, not really hearing, her eyes fixed on the man. Bitter, bitter, the irony of this. Why now, when I am resolved and pledged to think no more of him but to do my sworn duty by my lord and king... Round her neck, beneath the golden torque Arthur had given her when they had been wedded a full five years, she could feel the weight of Morgaine's charm, sewn into a little bag between her breasts. She did not know, had not wanted to know, what Morgaine had put into it." }, { "from": "human", "value": "> Proceed" }, { "from": "gpt", "value": "Why now? I had hoped that when he came home for Pentecost, I should be already bearing my lord's child, and he would look no more on me, since it was so clear I was resolved to honor my marriage.\n\nYet against her will, she remembered Arthur's words: Should you bear me a child, I would not question... do you know what I am saying to you? Gwenhwyfar had known what he meant all too well. Lancelet's son could be heir to the kingdom. Was this new temptation offered her, now, because she had already fallen into grievous sin by meddling with Morgaine's sorcery, and making wild and unchaste threats, hoping to force Morgaine into helping her...?\n\nI do not care, if so be it I can bear my king a son... if a God would damn me for that, what have Ito do with him? She was frightened at her own blasphemy, yet it had been blasphemy, too, to think of going to the lighted Beltane fires....\n\n\"Look, Gawaine is down, even he could not stand against Lancelet's riding,\" Elaine said eagerly. \"And Cai, too! How could Lancelet strike down a lame man?\"\n\n\"Don't be more of a fool than you must, Elaine,\" said Morgaine. \"Do you think Cai would thank Lancelet for sparing him? If Cai went into these games, surely he is able to risk whatever hurt he could take! No one bade him compete.\"\n\nIt had been foreordained from the moment Lancelet took the field who would win the prize. There was some good-natured grumbling among the Companions when they saw it. \"There is no use in any of us entering the lists at all, while Lancelet is here,\" Gawaine said, laughing, his arm around his cousin. \"Couldn't you have stayed away another day or so, Lance?\"" } ]

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