Pilgrim by Sara Douglas

Drago returned the grin. ―I was lost in thought.‖

Then his grin faded, and he looked back at the creatures spreading like a bleak wave of

sin beyond Carlon‘s walls. ―If I had ever imagined this horror…‖ he said softly.

―Then what?‖ Zared joined him in studying the force that swelled against the walls.

―What? You would never have gone through the Star Gate? Drago, Fate has us all twisted in its

relentless talons. If WolfStar hadn‘t thrown those children through, if the Enemy hadn‘t crashed

in this land in the first instance…well, what chance that we would be here at all?‖

Drago‘s eyes twinkled. If the Enemy hadn‘t crashed here, what chance that we would be

here? None! Not if Noah hadn‘t seduced Urbeth into his bed!

But he said nothing, and let Zared continue.

Zared swivelled from the view and leaned on the parapet with one elbow, studying

Drago‘s now unreadable face. ―Spend no time bemoaning the past, or the fates that brought us to

this moment, but instead think of the Tencendor that awaits.‖

Drago raised one eyebrow slightly. ―I did not realise you were the philosopher, Zared.

Tell me, what is this Tencendor that awaits?‖

Zared breathed deeply. ―A Tencendor free of everything, dammit, but its own destiny. No

prophecies, no long-buried Enemies, no Demons hurtling through space to tear it apart. Give

Tencendor back the right to control its own destiny, Drago, and I swear that you will take your

rightful place at its helm.‖

―Never say that!‖ Drago straightened, his violet eyes snapping with anger. ―Once I have

helped right the wrong that I helped perpetuate then I do not want leadership of anything save my own life and destiny. I do not want to snatch at a crown, Zared!‖

Zared looked at Drago carefully, ignoring the jibe. ―And if not you, Drago, then who?

Neither Axis nor Azhure retain the right to lead the land and its peoples forward. And

Caelum…well…‖ He paused. ―Who? Who? ‖

A muscle twitched in Drago‘s jaw, then his face relaxed. ―We are indeed confident of

victory, Zared, if here we stand fighting over who wants the glory afterwards.‖

Zared‘s own mouth twitched in a smile. ―I thought we were fighting over who did not

want it!‖

Drago laughed softly, then looked back over the creatures which thronged the plains

beyond Carlon. ―I do not like this, my friend.‖

―They increase by the day. The guards used to try and count them once a day, but they

gave that up a long time ago. Now they just estimate the depth of the swarm about Carlon‘s

walls.‖

―And?‖

―And in the past week it has more than doubled,‖ Zared said softly. ―I think every

creature—and every lost Acharite—that has been infected has found its way to Carlon.‖

To the Grail, and the Grail Lord, Drago thought, but did not speak it. ―Zared…when did

Theod arrive back?‖

―Theod? The same night you and Faraday—and your menagerie—arrived.‖

―But how?‖ Drago waved a hand to the swarms beating against the walls. ― How? I gained

the impression he‘d come through alone…‖

―He had. And Herme and myself had the same suspicions you perhaps entertain—‖

Drago shook his head. ―His mind is his own, even if it is over-burdened with grief.‖

―Well…Theod told us a remarkable story that, had it not been corroborated by several of

the guards, I would find it hard to credit. He said that after he‘d lost Gwendylyr, as the others, in

the Western Ranges, a fabulous white stallion with a mane and tail of angry stars had appeared

before him.‖

Drago stared, then smiled thoughtfully as he realised who the horse must be.

Zared only thought the smile a sign of scepticism. ―Drago, this is true…I believe Theod!‖

―Go on, uncle. I am not questioning you.‖

―Well…‖ Zared repeated the tale Theod had told him. ―When the horse approached the

ranks of the creatures outside, stars fell from his mane, burning a path before and about himself.

The creatures howled and clamoured, but they could not approach the horse. And so this star

stallion carried Theod to the gates.‖

―Star stallion,‖ Drago repeated to himself. ―How appropriate.‖

He lifted his voice. ―And where is this stallion now?‖

Zared shrugged his shoulders. ―No-one knows. He vanished the moment Theod dropped

from his back.‖

―North.‖ Drago stared in that direction, then looked back to the closer problem of the

hordes snapping and howling outside the walls.

―Apart from the obvious dangers to those who venture beyond the gates,‖ he said, ―have

the creatures posed any other threat?‖

Zared took his time in answering, and when he finally answered his voice was tinged

with deep disquiet. ―Look at them.‖

He waved his hand out, and almost as if the swarm of creatures had heard him, they

screeched and screamed and howled, stamping a million feet from the tiny to the massive on the

cold-baked earth.

Zared flinched. ―Look at them, hear them. There are oxen and calves, vetches and

ermine, cats and rats, snakes and creeping lice. Everything that once inhabited this land, that walked, crawled and hopped, has found its way here. I dread the moment that some of them find

even the tiniest crack in the city‘s defences. Gods, Drago! When are you going to get us to this

Sanctuary?‖ Suddenly all thought of leaving Leagh safe behind in Carlon fled Zared‘s mind.

Safety in Carlon? It was an illusory thing. Those creatures outside were waiting for something, and Zared did not want to be here when that something arrived.

―When we come back from the Western Ranges,‖ Drago said. ―Believe me, that needs to

be attended first.‖

Zared stared at Drago. ―You need Gwendylyr and Leagh and Faraday—‖

―And Goldman and DareWing, if useful. Yes. Without them few people here would have

a chance to get through. There are what…‖

―Over two hundred thousand.‖

―Over two hundred thousand to get across to Spiredore, and I do not think Carlon has the

fleet to ferry them over the Lake…do you?‖

There was a silence between them for a while.

―And then,‖ Drago said softly, peering yet further into the distance, ―there must be still

more trapped in the forbidding wilds of Tencendor. What of those in Skarabost? And in your

native Ichtar? And Nor, and Tarantaise?‖

―You cannot surely hope to retrieve everyone?‖ Zared said.

―I must,‖ Drago replied, and turned his eyes back to Zared. ―I must! If I leave even one

soul that I could have saved to feed the appetites of the Demons, how then can I be saved?‖

Caelum leaned back against the wind and laughed. Urbeth‘s eyes gleamed.

―And then…then, oh two-legged one, the seal said to me—‖

―No! No!‖ Caelum said. ―I do not want to hear what the poor seal said to try and save its

life. No doubt it didn‘t succeed.‖

Urbeth grinned. ―You are right. I sank my teeth into its back halfway through its

pleading. It was boring me.‖

Caelum wiped his eyes, still chuckling. He had never thought to be so amused by a story

of a seal‘s death, but the way Urbeth told it…

They had sat here swapping tales for what seemed like months—or was it years? Caelum

had no way of gauging the time. There was only snow and cold that somehow did not perturb

him, and the leap and twist of flame and words.

He remembered some vague wish he‘d had as an infant to spend months wandering the

northern wastes and talking with Urbeth, but as he‘d grown he‘d never found the time or the

energy.

Now he had the time. He and Urbeth had shared not only tales, but also knowledge.

Urbeth had talked to him about the craft and the Survivor. He told her of his sins. She‘d shared

her own sorrow at what she‘d not done, and her joy at what she‘d thought not to do, but had

anyway. He‘d hardly believed it when, halfway through one of her soliloquies, he‘d realised her

true identity.

Stars! She‘d seen the look in his eye, and had nodded briefly, but that was the only

concession either she or he had made to her ancient role as Mother of Races.

Mostly, Caelum had simply rediscovered the joy in life—something he realised he‘d lost

a long, long time ago.

―Ah,‖ said Urbeth, looking over Caelum‘s shoulder at something approaching from the

south.

He twisted about, expecting to see Drago, but all he saw were what he first thought

looked like two small white donkeys, then gradually materialised into two great icebears, almost

as large as Urbeth herself.

―My daughters,‖ Urbeth said. ―I would wager they have a tale or two to add to the

warmth of this fire.‖

61

The Bloodied Rose Wind

―Well?‖ Zenith asked anxiously, staring at StarDrifter. There was peace between them,

although as yet neither was at ease with that peace. Despite StarDrifter‘s unconditional love, and

his immense patience in a situation where he‘d never before had to be patient, Zenith still felt