As we sat around the fire blazing in the stone-built hearth, I entertained the company with the tale of Arian and Llaw and the return of the Gabala Knights. But after this, following requests from Wulf and Mace, I performed once more Rabain’s battles with the Vampyre assassins.
The magick was as usual greeted by warm applause, save from Astiana who, as a sister of God, frowned upon the Talent.
‘Did Rabain’s son actually kill him?’ asked Mace suddenly, as the figures faded away. ‘In life, I mean.’I shrugged. ‘I don’t know. All we know of Rabain comes from legend, word of mouth. In some tales it is his son who slays him. In others he journeyed across the Far Sea. In at least one he climbed into a chariot of fire and journeyed to join the gods.’There are other legends of Rabain,’ said Astiana, ‘older, darker. In these, he has no son.’This aroused my interest and I questioned her further. ‘When I was first a novice,’ she explained, ‘there was an old monk who gathered such stories, writing them in a great book. He said that the first tales of Rabain were of a demon summoned from Hell. Ra-he-borain – the Summoned One. The Vampyre Kings had destroyed the armies of Light and Horga the Sorceress, in desperation, called upon a Prince of Blood. He was a killer, damned to an eternity of torment, burning in lakes of fire. She drew him back and he slew Golgoleth. All the Vampyre armies fell to ash in that moment for, as the old tales have it, when the Lord of Vampyres dies his legions die with him.’What happened to Rabain?’ asked Mace.
‘He was returned to the pit.’
‘That’s hardly fair,’ Wulf complained.
‘Life isn’t fair,’ said Mace, chuckling, ‘but I like the tale. At least his son doesn’t betray him in this one. Did he get a chance to enjoy a parade?’He enjoyed Horga, I understand,’ said Astiana primly. ‘That was his price for doing what was right. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, and he demanded her body. It was that act which meant he would be returned to the pit. He knew this, but such was his desire that he suffered the fires of eternity to have her.’Must have been some woman,’ said Mace, with a broad grin. ‘Though I can’t say as I would ever strike such a bargain. So, poor Rabain still sits in his lake of fire. I wonder if he thinks it was worth it?’According to legend,’ Astiana continued, ‘Ra-he-borain merely waits to be called again, his pain as nothing compared with his memories of Horga.’That is a tale invented by a woman,’ said Mace scornfully. ‘You all think too much of yourselves.’And you think too little,’ she snapped.
‘You are wrong, sister. There are parts of a woman that I revere.’The threatened row did not materialize, for at that moment the storm winds died down and we heard a terrible scream echo through the forest.
‘By God’s Holy Tears!’ whispered Wulf. ‘That chills the blood!’Mace rose. ‘I think the Ringwearer has made contact with Kaygan and his men,’ he said.
‘We must help him,’ I cried, the scream still echoing in my head.
‘We can’t,’ Mace told me. ‘Not yet. There is a storm raging over the forest. What good could we do – blundering around in the dark and the wet?’But it is one man against seven!’ I protested.
‘It’s better that way,’ muttered Wulf. ‘At least he knows that every man he sees is an enemy.’But the scream … it could have been Gareth. They may already have him!’That is unlikely,’ put in Mace. ‘They will be sheltering from the rain, just like us. This is no weather to be hunting a man.’
Thunder rolled across the sky, lightning following instantly, and the rain fell with great force. Wulf banked up the fire and we sat in silence for a while.
‘What will we do tomorrow?’ I asked at last.
‘You and the women will wait here,’ said Mace. ‘Wulf and I will find Gareth.’And then?’We’ll see. Take the first watch, Owen, and wake me in about four hours.’ Wrapping himself in his cloak Mace settled down, falling asleep almost instantly.