‘We had wizards once – a whole temple of them. They supervised the building of the Great Library in Zir-vak. They were blamed when the sun went away and sacrificed on the high altar. The King promised that with their deaths the mountains would stop spewing fire, but it didn’t happen. In the last two hundred years there have been other prophets who claimed that blood sacrifice would appease the gods, and they would relent of their punishment. But they have not. We are a dying people, Sigarni; there is no hope for us.’
‘And yet amid all this turmoil you fight a war,’ she said. ‘Why?’
‘It was originally over a woman. The King’s grandfather fell in love with a noblewoman from the east, but she was betrothed to the King of Kal-vak. Despite her pleas her father made her honour her promise, and she was sent to Kal-vak. Our King was furious – and swore he would free her. We went to war. Our troops attacked Kal-vak and were repulsed. Then the first of the mountains exploded. Each side blamed the other for the catastrophe, claiming that treachery had alienated the gods against us. At first it wasn’t too terrible; the summers got shorter, and less warm, but crops still grew. But gradually the sky turned darker, and fine ash was deposited over the farmlands. Food grew scarce, save for the fish. But even these are swimming far from shore now.’
‘Yet the war goes on,’ said Ironhand. ‘How is it that neither side has won? You said the battle was begun by the King’s grandfather. How long ago was that?’
‘A little more than two hundred and forty years. Most of the principal players are now dead though the war goes on for other reasons. People need to eat.’
‘They eat the corpses!’ whispered Ballistar.
‘It is a little like pork, I am told,’ said Yos-shiel. ‘I have not eaten it myself, but when the time comes I don’t doubt that I shall. Life is always sweet- even in the Hell of Yur-vale.’ The old man sighed. ‘But tell me, my friend, what is the object you seek? I may be of some assistance.’
‘The Crown of Alwen,’ said Sigarni.
‘I know of no such object.’
‘It is a winged helm, bright silver, embossed with gold.’
‘The Paradise Helm,’ said Yos-shiel, his eyes widening. ‘You cannot take that! It is all that gives the people hope. Every twenty-five years it shows us a vision of Paradise, waterfalls and green trees, and a multitude standing around it, happy and smiling. That is our most prized artefact.’
Sigarni laid her hand on the old man’s shoulders. ‘What you see is my people standing by the Alwen Falls. Every quarter of a century the Crown reappears there, shimmering over the water. We all gather to see it, and you in turn, it seems, gather to see us. Tell me, Yos-shiel, of the last time the sun shone.’
‘It was on the day of the old King’s burial. I was there as they laid him on the funeral ship and sent it blazing on the river. The clouds broke and the sun shone for a full day. It was magnificent, there was singing and dancing in the streets.”
‘And before that?’
‘I don’t remember exactly. Wait… yes, I do. Twelve years ago, at the Feast of Athling. We saw the dawn on the following day, the sun huge and red. That lasted only minutes.’
‘What happened on the next feast day?’
‘You don’t understand, the Feast of Athling corresponds with the public display of the Paradise Helm. It happens only four times a century.’
For some time Sigarni questioned the old man and soon Ballistar became bored with the dialogue. He wandered to the window, leaned on the sill and watched the barges being loaded.
At last the conversation died away and Ironhand broke in. ‘Best bring your men in for dismissal, old fellow,’ he said, ‘for we have a hankering to be on one of those barges when it pulls away.’
‘Yes, I will,’ said Yos-shiel. ‘Thank you.’
An hour later the three sat at the stern of a forty-foot barge as the crew poled it steadily up-river. The vessel was fortified by hinged wooden flaps along both rails, which could be raised to offer protection from an assault. Huge rocks had been left at intervals along both sides of the deck, ready to be hurled down on any boat that sought to impede the barge’s progress. Armed men sat at the prow, and all of the barge workers carried long knives.