Emperor and Clown (59 page)

After
that ...

Rap
didn’t know what came after that. Endless wandering? More little good deeds
here and thereminuscule, futile attempts to make the cruel world a little
kinder? He had kept his promise to return to Krasnegar. Now he -could see how
that promise had been a lantern in the dark all the past year. There was no
light ahead now.

Sharing
more words with Inos had reduced his pain somewhat, but it was still there, and
his craving for her was more intense than ever. How long before he went as mad
as Kalkor or Bright Water?

He
was a fool. He’d been a fool to heal the imperor. He’d been a fool to spare
Zinixo in the Rotunda. And he’d been a paramount fool to make Inos a sorceress,
for now only a single word separated them, and she was in great danger.
Anywhere, anytime-a moment’s distraction and he might find himself at her side,
whispering.

So
where could he go, what could he do? Power? Even if his words had been
weakened, with five of them he was still a supersorcerer. He could do anything
he wanted. Riches? Women? He could have all the women in the world, in
unlimited numbers, make Andor look like an ascetic. The only one he wanted was
out of reach.

He
would never be in danger from any mundane peril, nor from sorcery, either, for
the Four had obviously decided to leave him well alone. He had many empty
centuries to look forward to, until he grew older than Bright Water.

Before
noon he was riding through a narrow valley, following a dry streambed, with
sere brown slopes rising gently on either hand to the drab hills. Horse and dog
were thirsty, and he was hungry. He decided to take a break, conjure up some
water and a meal.

Before
he could act on that resolution, he felt an eerie awareness, an imminent sense
of the numinous. He reined in Firedragon with a mental command and glanced
around uneasily. Premonition burned hotter, the ambience began to writhe and
shimmer, and finally blazed.

A
God stood athwart his path, brighter than the sun.

Rap
cursed silently. Stiff from riding, he slid from his saddle and sank to his
knees before the towering figure. He bent his head in submission. He had
already closed down his occult senses, for the power lashing the ambience was
more than mortal mind could stand. Even his mundane eyes could not bear to look
at that coruscating glory, although its light cast no shadows, nor brightened
the hills.

Firedragon
wandered off to graze.

“You
must go back!” The voice was male, and thunderous.

“I
do not wish to go back,” Rap said, staring at the yellow grass.

“You
are defying the Gods?”

Yes
he was, so there was no point in saying anything.

“You
are a fool!” Yes again.

“You
love her!”

“I
do.”

“And
she loves you!”

Undoubtedly.
And undoubtedly this was the God Who had appeared to Inos once, long ago, on
that eventful day that ended their childhood.

“You
are defying Us and spurning the destiny We chose for you both. Go back!”

Rap
said, “No.”

Risking
a tiny glimmer of farsight, he saw the God put Their fists on Their hips in an
oddly trivial gesture. A wave of divine fury washed the valley. Strange that
the very grass did not burst into flame!

“You
are a stubborn fool! You know the formula! You know why the casement could not
prophesy for you? You know why the sorcerers could not foresee you?”

“I
do.” And he knew now what Bright Water had guessed from the inexplicable
blocking.

“So
you know why a God is always described as `They’?”

“I
do.”

“We
have promised you this, and you are defying Us!”

To
be a sorcerer was bad enough. To be a God would be infinitely worse. Rap set
his teeth and said nothing.

Apparently
They decided that blustering was not going to work, for suddenly the God became
soft, and feminine. The sunlike glare became suffused with pearl, the strident
call to duty yielded to the appeal of love. They moved closer, until Their toes
were within Rap’s field of mundane vision. They made his eyes hurt, but he had
never seen anything lovelier.

“Oh,
Rap, Rap!” the voice said, gentle now, and coaxing. They sounded like his
mother, and he felt tears of sudden anger start. “Is this fair to Inos?”

“She
agreed. It is what she wants also.”

“Maybe
she agrees now, to humor you. How will she feel when she is old, when her
beauty is gone and age begins to gnaw at her flesh? How will you feel when your
manly strength fails you and your eyes water and your back aches? Will you both
start patching yourselves with sorcery, like Bright Water, to load a few more
years onto your brief span? Repent, Rap! Go back to Inos, Rap, so you can put
on immortality together!” Rap said, “No.”

“Five
words, Rap! Five words destroy, but when two people who love each other are
armed with the strength of five words shared-those make a God. Few are the
mortals given this chance. “

Again
he said nothing. There was evil in every good, and good in every evil. Bright
Water had guessed, and tried to help him in her muddled way; tried to bribe a
future God so she would have a friend at her weighing.

Suddenly
there were more Gods, uncounted Gods, male and female both, blazing beauty all
around, filling the dusty little valley with glory, so that the air rang with
music and purity and love. The very sunlight seemed drab by contrast.

“Join
us, Rap!” They chorused. “Your coming was ordained at the birth of the world.
For centuries we have waited on you. Now the time is ripe, the prophecy
fulfilled-be one with Inos and join us in glory for eternity!”

Rap
said, “No!”

A
great wail filled the whole world. “You can be any of Us, Rap. God of Love, God
of War, God of Healing. Any of Us will step aside for you. Or be a new God. God
of Horses, Rap?”

Rap
said, “No.”

Anger
shook the hills, bringing maleness, stern and deadly, so that the company of
Gods assumed a presence like a horde of armed warriors all around him, vast and
mighty in Their wrath. Pearly glow became metallic glint, song became fanfare
and beat of drum.

“We
all must seek to aid the Good, Rapt Think of how a God can aid the Good, and
how much They can accomplish; set that beside the trivial powers of a sorcerer.
If you and Inos dedicate your whole mortal lives to serving mankind, you can
hope to achieve nothing compared to what a God can achieve throughout eternity.
Repent, and come!”

“What
a God can achieve?” Rap yelled, wishing he could bear to look upon Them so he
could pull faces. “Healing babies, relieving famines, stopping wars? Oh, very
worthy! But who made the babies sick in the first place? Who blighted the crops
and started the wars? When prayers are answered You expect thanks. When things
go wrong anyway, that is because we mortals are wicked. You have the game
stacked so You can score in both goals, can’t you? The nice things are Your
blessings, and the bad things are our sins. What do You do the rest of the
time, when You’re not answering prayers? You go around making trouble, and I
don’t know whether it’s just for Your own amusement or to humble us so You can-”

“SILENCE!”

He
waited for the lightning, but instead he felt a great loneliness and weariness.

“We
love you, Rap. We have been waiting for you. Your troubles are over now. Join
with Inos and come to us and never again will you-”

Rap
said, “No!” He felt terror ...

“Gods
are not mocked, Rap! Fear what judgment will come upon you if you deny Us now!”

Rap
said, “No! I will not go back to Inos. Slay me if You choose, but I am not
going back. I do not wish to be more than human. I shall live and die a mortal,
and Inos also.”

He
felt fury-and then sudden despair.

“No
more time!” one of the Gods cried. “Look, Rapt Look at what Inosolan is doing!”

Rap
sought out Krasnegar with farsight. He saw the castle as a great shielded
blank, except for the chamber of puissance at the very top. He saw the steep
little town all spread out below it, with every corner visible to him. He saw
the people like ants, scurrying up the streets and alleys, and then he heard
the great bell booming, summoning them to the castle.

Inos!
What was she planning?

“Hurry,
Rapt Go back and stop her before it is too late!”

She
would kill herself! For a moment his resolution wavered, and he felt the rising
surge of joy and triumph from the Gods assembled.

No!
“I won’t!” he said.

For
a moment he really thought They were going to slay him. He fell forward to the
ground as Their rage roared and buzzed around him; but then it slowly sharpened
to a howling dirge of farewell, fading away in echoes of eternal sorrow for his
folly.

So
much for immortality.

He
was alone in the valley, lying on the grass. Firedragon was peaceably munching.
Fleabag had lain down to lick his paws, and the Gods had gone.

And
Inos, crazy Inos! ... She would kill herself. It was impossible!

He
staggered to his feet, and just for a moment he hesitated. He could move
himself to the castle yard. He could run in through the gate; he could flash
instantly to the Great Hall.

He
could stop her. No!

It
was her decision. This was why she had demanded two more words. She had guessed
why a God was called “They.”

Two
people and five words, plus love ... She felt as he did. But what she planned
was humanly impossible! To tell a word of power to one person was an agonizing
experience. To tell it to more than one was unbearable-he recalled how he had
been unable to share a word with Rasha when Azak had been close enough to hear.

Then
why had the Gods been worried? Not He would not interfere.

The
world shimmered around him and seemed to darken. He cried out with a rending
sense of loss. Inos! She was doing it! She would kill herself. Frantically he
ran to his horse and scrambled into the saddle. He turned Firedragon’s head to
the north and dug in his heels. And even as he did so, the world shimmered
again, and shrank, and darkened about him. He groped for the ambience and it
had gone. Inos knew four of the five words he knew-and she was destroying them.

A
mundane could not travel as a sorcerer did, and his return took many hours.

Long
before dark he saw the storm clouds gathering; snow began to fall at sunset,
out of a lurid, bloodsoaked sky. He wondered if the Gods were about to level
punishment for his defiance. He rode on without a pause, into the fury of an
arctic storm.

Inos
had done what she planned. Four of his words of power were gone, and he was
thrown back to where he had been before he became an adept.

He
still had farsight, a poor mockery of a sorcerer’s vision, but enough to follow
the trail through the hills and lead him on to Krasnegar, even in driving snow
and dense dark. That morning the world had been spread before him, all
Pandemia; now his range was less than a league, a tiny patch of grass and scrub
surrounded by nothing. He could not see what was happening in the town, and
that was torture. He knew Inos had survived the destruction of three words,
because he had felt them all go, but had she managed to survive the fourth?
Even if she lived, what might such torment have done to her mind?

He
still had his mastery for animals, and he used it to coax every possible
hoofbeat out of poor old Firedragon. The stallion was game and stout-hearted.
His breath froze around his nostrils, his hooves thumped the hard earth, and he
strained his utmost for his friend Rap. The younger, stronger Evil could have
done no more.

Somewhere
on that long mad ride, Fleabag was lost. Probably the dog had just fallen from
exhaustion, for Rap would have seen a wild pack pull him down. If so, he would
recover. He would follow later if he chose, or else head south to the forest
and survive in wolfish ways.

Rap
had no idea how far he must travel, but he knew he must catch the night ebb
tide or die before dawn. He drove his mount as he had never believed he could
treat a horse, but his plight was desperate. Now he had no power to keep
himself warm, or shorten his journey, or deflect hunger and fatigue. He was not
dressed for the climate; he had brought no food.

Mostly
he rode almost prone, leaning his face against his horse’s lathered neck, with
one hand wrapped in his mane for warmth and the other covering his exposed ear.
Every few minutes he would change sides. This was an ordeal to test a goblin,
and it would have quickly killed a purebred faun. He especially cursed his
inadequate boots, fearing he would lose his toes.

Caked
with snow, man and horse pressed onward.

He
was so battered and weary that he failed to register the shore cottages when
they came within his range. At first his dulled wits tried to interpret them as
strange rock formations. Then he recognized the sea beyond and saw that the
flood was well underway. He was too late to cross the causeway before morning.

He
let Firedragon slow to a walk and headed numbly for shelter. The workers would
have fled to town when they saw the storm coming, and there would be nothing
there to sustain him. Then his farsight detected a fire, and a man dozing
beside it. Furthermore, there were horses in one of the new stables. At the
cottage door, Rap fell from the saddle and just lay. He could not rise, but the
man inside had heard the hooves even over the noise of the wind. The door swung
open in a blaze of firelight, and he came shuffling out to help. He dragged Rap
inside and swathed him in a blanket by the hearth.

Rap’s
head spun giddily with the aftereffects of cold. His heart pumped nausea
through every vein, and pain besides. He shivered so hard he could barely sip
at the steaming mug the old hostler thrust into his hand.