We even follow this practice in life itself. The enemy is always reviled, pictured as the despoiler of women, the eater of babies, a living plague upon the earth, a servant of Satan. Wars are never fought for plunder or gain. Oh, no, they are always depicted as ultimate battles between good and evil. But then, looking at the nature of Man, that is understandable. Can you imagine the scene, the great King gathering his troops before an epic battle. ‘Right, my lads,’ he says, as he sits upon his great black stallion, ‘today we fight for my right to steal gold from whomsoever I choose. The enemy are men much the same as yourselves. A good bunch, probably, with wives and children back home. And at the end of the battle, when I have more riches than I’ll ever spend in a lifetime, many of them – and indeed many of you – will be wormfood, or crippled. Better to be dead, really, because I’ll have no use for you once you can no longer wield a sword. All right, lads? Let’s be at them!’No. Far better for the poor foot-soldier to be told that he is fighting for God, and right, and justice in the world against an enemy spawned from darkness.
But where was I? Ah yes, Lykos was dead – as Mace had promised he would be. And thus the legend grew.
Word flew through the forest faster than a raven’s flight, the story growing, adding to the myth of the Morningstar. The townsmen of Pasel, learning of the killing, rose up and re-took the keep. The revolt spread and Rualis rebelled against the
Angostins, slaughtering the soldiers and the noble families who had ruled there for three centuries. Further south Brackban was gathering men to the Morningstar’s cause.
Corlan, the outlaw, had attacked three convoys and his Men of the Morningstar were heroes now, carrying a sacred flame in their hearts.
You have never seen a forest fire, ghost. It is a fearsome thing. One moment all is silent, dry and hot, the next a tiny flicker of flame dances upon dead leaves. Other dancers join it and they run across the ground, flaring up against dead wood. A breeze fans them and they scatter until it is a dance no longer. Flames roar high into the sky, great oaks burn like tinder, and the dancers become a ravening monster propelled by the wind.
Such was the rebellion.
When I sent Corlan south it had merely been to separate him and his men from us, to put distance between us. I do not believe – though I would like to – that I planned the rebellion from the start. But I will say, with all honesty, that the seed of the idea was growing when I gave Brackban his orders. Why should the Highlanders not control their own destiny? By what right, save that of conquest, did the Angostins rule?
But this was not in my mind as we walked towards the Troll Reaches, seeking the Ringwearer, Gareth.
I was more concerned with our safety, for ahead of us were stretches of forest and mountain inhabited by creatures many times stronger than men. Here was the last refuge of the Trolls and, according to fable, many other ancient races, dread beasts and sorcerous evil.
But more immediate was the threat of Kaygan the Swordsman and his seven killers, and worse than these the ever-present fear of Cataplas and his sorcery. None of which seemed to bother Mace as we walked. He was in high good humour.
‘All that armour-plate,’ he said, ‘breastplate, shoulder-guards, greaves, thigh-protectors, gauntlets, helm. Must have cost at least thirty gold pieces. And one arrow ends his miserable existence. By God, isn’t life wonderful?’There is nothing wonderful about the taking of a life,’ put in Astiana, ‘though I grant that Lykos deserved death.’It shouldn’t have been as quick,’ said Wulf. ‘I’d like to have
had an evening in his company with some hot irons and a blazing fire.’To achieve what?’ asked the sister stonily.
‘Achieve?’ responded Wulf. ‘Why, I would have enjoyed it.’I can see no pleasure in such torture,’ muttered Piercollo. ‘He is dead, and that is an end to it.’The clouds gathered and the sky darkened. We sheltered from the coming storm in an old log dwelling > long deserted. The west wall had collapsed, the cabin was open to the elements, but there was enough of a roof left on the east and north walls to protect us from the rain and the gathering storm.