LEGEND by David A. Gemmell

‘I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,’ he said, ‘but I did overhear you. You must forgive Vintar. He is older than the rest of us and the strain of the hunt proved too much for him.’

“The hunt? What hunt?’ asked Virae.

‘We sought Serbitar. He had journeyed far and the path was sundered. He could not return and we had to find him. Vintar guessed rightly that he had retreated into the mists and taken his chances. He had to seek him.’

‘I’m sorry, Menahem. You look worn out,’ said Rek, ‘but try to remember that we do not know what you are talking about. Into the mists? What the devil does that mean?’

Menahem sighed. ‘How can one explain colours to a blind man?’

‘One says,’ snapped Rek, ‘that red is like silk, blue is like cool water, and yellow is like sunshine on the face.’

‘Forgive me, Rek. I am tired, I did not mean to be rude,’ said Menahem. ‘I cannot explain the mists to you as I understand them. But I will try to give you some idea.

‘There are many futures but only one past. When we travel beyond ourselves we walk a straight path, journeying much as we are doing now. We direct ourselves over vast distances. But the path back remains solid, for it is locked in our memories. Do you understand?’

‘So far,’ said Rek. ‘Virae?’

‘I’m not an idiot, Rek.’

‘Sorry. Go on, Menahem.’

‘Now try to imagine there are other paths. Not just from, say, Drenan to Delnoch, but from today into tomorrow. Tomorrow has not yet happened and the possibilities for it are endless. Each one of us makes a decision that will affect tomorrow. But let us say we do travel into tomorrow. Then we are faced with a multitude of paths, gossamer-thin and shifting. In one tomorrow Dros Delnoch has already fallen, in another it has been saved, or is about to fall or about to be saved. Already we have four paths. Which is true? And when we tread the path, how do we return to today, which from where we are standing is a multitude of yesterdays? To which do we return? Serbitar journeyed far beyond tomor­row. And Vintar found him as we held the path in sight.’

‘You used the wrong analogy,’ said Rek. ‘It is nothing like explaining colours ‘to a blind man. Rather is it more like teaching archery to a rock. I haven’t the remotest idea what you are talking about. Will Serbitar be all right?’

‘We don’t know yet. If he lives, he will have infor­mation of great value.’

‘What happened to his eyes? How did they change colour?’ asked Virae.

‘Serbitar is an albino – a true albino. He needs certain herbs in order to maintain his strength. Last night he journeyed too far and lost his way. It was foolhardy. But his heartbeat is strong and he is now resting.’

‘Then he won’t die?’ said Rek.

‘That we cannot say. He travelled a path which stretched his mind. It could be he will suffer the Pull; this happens sometimes to Travellers. They move so far from themselves that they just drift, like smoke. If his spirit is broken, it will pass from him and return to the mist.’

‘Can’t you do anything?’

‘We have done all we can. We cannot hold him forever.’

‘When will we know?’ asked Rek.

‘When he awakes. If he awakes.’

*

The long morning wore on and Serbitar still lay unmoving. The Thirty volunteered no conversation and Virae had walked upstream to bathe. Bored and tired, Rek took the despatches from his pouch. The bulky scroll sealed in red wax was addressed to Earl Delnar. Rek broke the seal and spread the letter wide. In flowing script the message read:

My dear friend,

Even as you read this, our intelligence is that Nadir will be upon you. We have tried repeatedly to secure peace, having offered all that we have save the right to govern ourselves as a free people. Ulric will have none of this – he wishes to secure for himself a kingdom stretching between the northern and southern seas.

I know the Dros cannot hold and I therefore rescind my order that you fight to the last. It will be a battle without profit and without hope.