Chapter 13

Two leagues southeast of the spire a lonely figure made her way across the
moorlands.  She would not be left behind at the temple.

Miowni trotted her horse relentlessly towards the spire.  So far the ride
had gone without incident, but as darkness had fallen and the moon had
drifted into the sky she had become aware of another presence in her
vicinity, following closely behind.

As she drew nearer the spire the presence drew closer to her; but now it
was not alone.  There were others following her, both to her left and to
her right.

At a league distant from the spire she could make out the figures on her
flanks. They were demonlike; short and stocky - powerful.

She began to gallop her horse but the demons kept pace, slowly tightening
their grip.  Occasionally they vanished from view as the landscape changed,
only to re-appear again moments later. She rounded the top of a small rise,
again the demons vanished from view.  Miowni glanced to her left and to her
right; too late did she realise they were before her.

Miowni tried to gallop between them.  At first they seemed to step aside;
then the demon to the left snatched at the horses hind legs; its claws sank
deep.  For a few paces the demon was dragged but then the second demon also
took hold; the horses legs collapsed beneath it and Miowni was thrown to
the ground.

She looked up as the demons released the horse.  She was not injured but
her eyes reflected her predicament.

The demons moved towards Miowni, saliva dribbling from their mouths.  They
were no more than a pace distant, when they halted at the sound of
approaching hoof beats.

A horse drew close, its rider was carrying a fearsome axe. Giyorn had been
following Miowni for the past three leagues, though he did not know it was
she.  He brought his horse to an abrupt halt; then he dismounted.  He could
not clearly see the figure on the ground but the demons were unmistakable,
both were the image of Cretin.

The demons turned their attention towards Giyorn and began to move
stealthily towards him.  Perhaps an ordinary man would have fled but
Giyorns face was filled with hatred.

The darkworld creatures began to circle as if there was something they were
not sure of.  Occasionally one would make a strike for Giyorn and twice
their claws hit the mark shredding Giyorns clothing as they swept by.  He
parried and dodged their blows, more by reading their actions than speed of
response.

'GIYORN,' cried Miowni as she regained her feet.

The demons turned.  Giyorn sank his axe viciously into the side of the
nearest one.  It let out a frenzied scream; its flesh seemed to burn where
the axe had penetrated.

The second demon moved backwards, its eyes locked on the axe. Giyorn drew a
dagger from his belt.  The demon snarled.  Giyorn let fly with the dagger;
it flew directly towards its target. Only at the last instant did the demon
manoeuvre itself from the daggers path.

Giyorn charged at the darkworld creature.  For a moment it looked like it
would stand and fight, but then it was gripped by fear, as if the axe could
administer more than death.  The demon turned and fled.

'It seems we travel the same path,' said Miowni, in an untroubled voice.

Giyorn turned from his pursuit of the demon to find Miowni only a few paces
behind him.  He was more than a little surprised to see her. 'It is good to
see you are well M'Lady, but tell me why you are here by yourself?  Where
are Jorm and the others?'

'We have encountered many problems since we left the Southlands. I, like
yourself, have been parted from the others.  I am just happy to see you are
well,' she smiled. 'We thought you were lost to us.  We searched the
marshlands all through that dreadful night and on into the next day.  But
you and the shade had simply vanished.  Your disappearance made our hearts
heavy.'

'I am not lost, but you seem to be.  Do you know where Jorm is?'

Miowni turned in the direction of the invisible spire. 'He has gone to
fulfil his destiny.  Even now he may be confronting our enemies.  We should
hurry to join him; his life may be in danger.'

Giyorn remembered Morgains only word - Cretin - Alarm showed in his eyes.
'Can your horse be ridden?'

Miowni nodded her head. 'I think so.'

'Quickly then, we must ride to the spire with all haste.'

                                   * *

Palanzarr stood and with a passing thought he extinguished the fire.  Jorm
and Gwidian rose also, their eyes slowly becoming accustomed to the
darkness.

A third shade appeared; then a fourth; they now formed a loosely spaced arc
before the spire.

Palanzarr pointed to the first shade, then moved his arm around in an arc
speaking their names as he did so. 'Ribolorn, the grey mystical shade of
Greyfar; Krangor from whose kingdom the blue sea touches the blue of the
sky; Tordoth the shade of rage, his purple sash is a fitting colour; and
Grogor, as red as the blood of his tortured victims... WHO AMONGST YOU HAS
THE POWER TO STAND AGAINST PALANZARR THE MIGHTY?' he called.

'You are a fool, Palanzarr.  I, Ribolorn fear not the power of one elden
wizard.'

'It was foretold that we would meet again,' rasped Tordoth, with a wicked
thought. 'Now wizard you will meet your betters.' Flames appeared in
Tordoths hands.  It outstretched its arms and the fire streamers shot
towards Palanzarr.  Palanzarr moved his head to one side and with a flash
of an eye the flame exploded into a fine spray of water which fell gently
to the ground like rain.

'You jest, Tordoth.  Are your powers really as small as your brain?'
laughed Palanzarr.

Tordoth raised its hands to the sky where giant winged serpents appeared
and Krangor knelt low as if scooping the ground; snakes writhed on their
bellies to where Jorm and his companions stood.

Gwidian cast his eyes to the sky where the serpents beat their wings.  Then
he raised his shield to glance through the slit in its metalwork.  He saw
no serpents.

'Do not be deceived,' said Palanzarr. 'Unless you keep your eyes shrouded
behind your shield, those winged monsters are real. Even I must protect
myself.'

Palanzarr held his right hand palm down towards the serpents then he turned
his palm upwards.  The outlines of the creatures disappeared to by replaced
by doves as white as the winter snows.

Jorm slashed at the slithering creatures on the ground, some were as large
as two paces in length and he had to be wary of their bite.  Gwidian also
turned his attention to the snakes, unsheathing his own sword.  Cretins
hands could strike faster than a snake and the power of his arms and
sharpness of his claws and teeth left the snakes little chance, soon there
were few to deal with.  Palanzarr put a final end to them with a touch as
cold as ice.  The snakes appeared to freeze and lay as dormant as the
branches of a dead tree.  He then held out his hands for his staff,
which appeared at his call.  Although he was a good distance from Tordoth
he motioned as if to strike.  From the staff flew a sphere of blue light.
Tordoth seeing this danger took up a defensive stance; the sphere of light
exploded.  For a moment the shades image seemed to waver, then it resumed
its deathly darkness.

Grogor began to move backward towards the spire while Ribolorn appeared to
float nearer.

'Enough of this foolishness,' said Ribolorn, in a wise but evil thought.
'We are here to find the Queen.  If your lives are in peril, she will
come.  We have waited long enough.' As Grogor vanished into the tower
Ribolorn unleashed a beam of emerald green; sheer power hurtled towards
Palanzarr.

In an instant of time Palanzarr spun his staff almost too fast for the eye
to see and before him appeared an arc of blue light. The emerald beam
smashed into it and sparks flew in the air.

'The time for talk is over Palanzarr, return to your own world or perish in
ours,' said Ribolorn.

Palanzarr pointed a finger at Ribolorn and a needle thin ray of white light
sprang forth.

Krangor cast a spell of darkness before the ray of light and in its depths
the light was lost.

'Can you hold out?' said Jorm hurriedly and with concern.

Palanzarr did not answer.

'GIVE ME THE POWER OF DARKNESS,' commanded Ribolorn.  He held his right
hand towards Tordoth and Tordoth held his left hand towards Ribolorn.  Pure
evil passed between their hands and the beam of emerald power focused on
Palanzarr increased in fury.

'Go,' said Palanzarr. 'We are locked in stalemate.  Grogor has entered the
spire; there, you will find what you seek.  Nomarn awaits you.  He has
beckoned his executioner.'

'But what of you?' said Jorm.  He could see quite clearly that Palanzarr
was fighting a losing battle.

Cretin pushed Gwidian towards the spire then took hold of Jorm to pull him
the same way. 'Move,' he growled.  But they had only taken a few paces when
the hill side behind them became alive with demons.

'Damn them,' spat Jorm. 'Palanzarr is doomed.  We must stay and fight.'

A voice laughed in his mind.  He recognised it instantly, it was the laugh
of Nomarn Deleri.  He looked around and then cast his eyes high up the
walls of the spire.  It was difficult to see the battlement, but he sensed
Nomarn was standing there. 'Your demons cannot stand against my sword,'
growled Jorm. 'What power have they to withstand me?'

A chilling voice spoke in Jorms mind, 'Do you think one man can stand
against even one demon, Lord of the Southlands.  These are the pride of my
domain and did you know they also number eighteen?'

'Ten and eight,' said Jorm bewildered.

'They are standing in three groups,' replied Cretin. 'The number of Leir.
We go to the spire now or we will not go there at all.'

'RUN FOR IT,' cried Gwidian, throwing the shield to Jorm. 'Get to the
spire, I will try and distract them.'

Jorm started to open his mouth but Cretin dragged him towards the spire.

                                    *

The entrance was open and Jorm entered with Cretin by his side. They headed
for the torch lit stairwell.  They ran by two levels of the tower, but at
the third Jorm ground to a halt.  Before him was the most grotesque chamber
he had ever seen.  The room seemed larger than the width of the tower
though it was not this that stunned him.  It was a torture chamber.  There
were people hanging from chains, locked in stocks.  They were crying for
aid or to be put to death.  The floor was covered in blood running from
spiked iron cages.  There was one particularly horrible sight of a girl
like Lorns had described stretched out on a slab, nearby was a blacksmiths
fire with reddened pokers and irons.

Jorm stood and stared as the black shape of a shade appeared in the centre
of the room.  It was standing with its back to Jorm. Slowly it lifted a
poker from the flames and moved towards the girl.

'It is all in your mind,' hissed Cretin. 'Look through the shield, Grogor
possesses your thoughts.'

'Help me,' cried the girl in a distraught voice.

Grogor thrust the poker at the girl.  Jorms ears were pierced by the most
terrifying scream.

Jorm cried out as he lunged at Grogor, but the shade seemed to flow through
him.  He crashed into the far wall, his sword thrown from his hand.  Grogor
faced him.

Jorm instinctively  raised his shield and as he did he caught a glimpse of
a radiant fireball scorching the air towards him.  The fireball struck his
shield and rebounded harmlessly out of a slit window.

'You have delayed us enough,' scowled Cretin.  His voice was carrying
deadly undertones...

Grogor turned to face him.

Cretins eyes reddened; he held out a clawed hand as Nomarn had done with
Raimar.  Slowly he coiled his fingers and as he did so the figure of the
shade became crushed.  Finally he squeezed his hand tight.  There was a
deep throated cry and the shade was gone.

Jorm looked around.  The room was empty save for himself and Cretin.

Cretin looked at Jorm. 'Nomarn will have felt my true power.  I can conceal
it no longer.  Together we shall stand or fall.'

Jorm gathered his sword.  They both sped to the stairwell which spiralled
them upwards.  They passed another three levels before their pace slowed.

'They are directly above us,' said Cretin. 'We must proceed with caution.'

They crept the last few steps of the worn stonework, to be faced by a low
archway.  The stairwell continued up but they knew where their enemies
waited.

Jorm peered into the darkness but naught could he see. 'We may walk into a
trap.'

'We must walk into a trap.  Nomarn will indeed be prepared for us... We
have no choice.  Trust me.'

They walked under the arch to stand in total darkness.  Despite Jorms
hatred of Nomarn and his drive to see the circle of wraiths destroyed, he
could barely contain his fears.  Sweat clung to his brow and his breathing
was heavy.  The fear of the unknown was upon him.

Cretin lifted a hand to point at the high ceiling.  Slowly a starlike light
began to glow bringing light where once there was only darkness.  As the
room grew in brightness they were met with a dread they had not even
considered.

The room appeared at least four times the size Jorm would have thought
possible.  Around the perimeter were darkened archways which still defied
the light.  In the centre of the room was the cold sacrifice stone and atop
the stone a black dagger; Jorm was mystified.  He could have sworn the
stone still lay on the hill beyond the confines of these walls.  Above the
stone and dagger spun a large crystal with eighteen smooth surfaces.  It
sparkled like ice.

A cloaked figure moved out of the furthest archway; evil emanated from its
being.  It stopped beside the stone and bowed its head.

'Baron Nomarn Deleri,' said Jorm in an angry yet fearful voice.

The shade raised its head and its thoughts echoed colder than the
sacrifice stone itself. 'I am Nomarn Deleri and this is my chamber.' The
shade paused a moment. 'And this is the stone and dagger which will give me
my reality.'

Cretin sneered. 'Your reality is lost Darkmind.  The circle is broken
forever.  The wraiths of the ring no longer number seven. Your dagger will
slay no-one.'

Six more forms appeared from the archways.  Even the shade Mandonna stood
there in all her wickedness.

Jorms eyes opened wide. 'How can this be?' he muttered.  He lifted his
shield before his eyes.  The shades still numbered seven and the sacrifice
stone was still in the centre of the floor.  The crystal spun above it
seemingly suspended in mid air. Realisation crossed his face; the stone had
been moved inside, no doubt by Nomarns demons.  He had seen no more than an
illusion outside.  But the wraiths - how could there be seven?

'Do you still not understand?' said Nomarn. 'Can you not see?' He raised
his arms as lightening flashed outside the archways and thunder rolled.

Jorm walked as if mesmerised to his left.  He passed through an archway and
stood on the lofty battlement.  Below the ground had fallen away.  The
spire was stood upon a high hill and in the distance stood dark jagged
mountains.  As the lightning flashed he could see the terrible landscape of
a dying world and as the roll of thunder subsided to a whisper he could
hear the roar of waves.  He did not know why but he knew he was looking at
the darkworld.  They had been deceived.  There was not one gateway
to the darkworld but two and though a fallen shade could no longer walk
in the light of day - here in the darkworld they were as real as ever.
Jorm glanced down to the ground beneath him; demons were beginning to form
a circle; they would create a ring of fire.  Had Nomarn really beaten him?
Frantic thoughts sped through his mind; the crystal; was that the device
with which Nomarn crossed between worlds?  Was that the 'seeing glass', but
how?  Nomarn would not allow it to be destroyed; what could he do?

Jorm turned and walked back into the room.  He would kill Nomarn. All he
needed was a moment of time.  He raised his sword but his arm froze.  Try
as he may, he could not move it.  The wraiths began to chant.  Though he
could no longer see outside he knew the demons would be preparing their
dance of fire.  It was like it was before, Nomarn was taking control of the
Queen.  Cretins disguise would vanish and Nomarn would join his powers with
hers. The evil overcoming the good.  He wanted to scream but his lips would
not move.

'That one is mine,' said a shade, looking at Jorm.  A shade with the brown
sash of Baroness Helian. 'It is a long time since I have taken a man and I
would enjoy picking out his eyes.'

Nomarn laughed. 'The world is mine.' He turned his eyes to Cretin. 'Your
guise is ended, my dear, now your beauty may return - for a short while,
Queen of the Elden.  You cannot resist the chant, your power is my power.'

Cretin sneered. 'There is only one fool here,' he chortled, 'and I am
looking at it.  Does Nomarn think his silly song will woo me?' His face
turned to a snarl.  He turned to the nearest shade, Ribolorn. 'You are
requested at Greyfar,' he rasped.  White energy shot from his raised hands,
and with a dazzling flash of light, the wraith was gone.  He swept his eyes
around the chamber and at his motionless friend. 'Perhaps you should all be
frozen in time.'

The wraiths moved to defend themselves but Cretin made no move towards
them, he clenched his hands and concentrated.  The wraiths too became
motionless but in an archway to Cretins right a figure crept stealthily.

                                   *  *

Giyorn and Miowni arrived at the spire in the midst of battle. They saw the
shapes of demons climbing the low moonlit hill before them.

Giyorn remained on his horse and said, 'We should circle around and climb
the hill from the west.' He did not wait for Miownis reply but galloped his
horse around the base of the mound like hill; Miowni followed in his wake.
They rode around the hill then part way up it.  Giyorn clutched his axe and
motioned to Miowni to dismount, they continued their journey on foot.

They rounded the top of the hill to find only demons.  They seemed to be
gathering in a group and chortling to one another. Giyorn took Miownis hand
and they both ran to the spire.

The entrance was open and for a while they stood just inside the entryway
gathering their breath. 'I hope they are in here,' said Giyorn, 'otherwise
we are too late.'

Miowni nodded her head.

Giyorn turned towards the stairwell and slowly and quietly he began to
climb the steps.  He beckoned Miowni to follow.

They had reached the third level when the sound of thunder ripped across
the skies.  They halted a while and stared at one another. As the rumbling
subsided they continued to climb.  On the fourth level the sound of
chanting echoed in their ears.  Giyorn recognised the chant and alarm
showed in his eyes.  Miowni turned a deathly white.

'What ails you?' said Giyorn with concern in his voice.

Miowni did not answer but collapsed to her knees with her hands covering
her ears.

Giyorn was trapped by indecision, but then he said, 'I must go on, there is
treachery abroad.  We are all lost if Nomarn is not destroyed.' He took one
last look at Miowni then his face hardened; he gripped his axe tightly and
began to climb the stairwell.

                                   * *

Cretin gazed around the room at what may have been motionless shadows.  His
power could not hold the stasis on all the shades for long, nor as Grogor
had proven could he destroy them, not in the darkworld, but what he could
do was remove them from the vicinity, it would take them time to gather
their senses, and by that time he and the 'seeing glass' would be gone.  He
knew where to take it.

He pointed his fingers at the shades; one by one and without a trace they
disappeared deep into the darkworld until only Nomarn, Jorm and himself
remained in the room.  He turned to Jorm and said, 'It is over, I leave
Nomarns fate in your hands.'

Jorm stared at Cretin, he would have answered but his mouth would still not
respond to his commands.  He saw Cretin move towards him and begin to
manoeuvre his hands.  His only hope was that Cretin had the power to
release him from his invisible bonds.

A figure loomed up behind Cretin.  Jorm recognised it instantly, it was
Giyorn.  For an instant his heart rose, but what was Giyorn doing?  Why was
he creeping up behind Cretin?

Giyorns knuckles shone white on the axe shaft and his face was full of
loathing.

NO, cried Jorm, but only his own mind heard his plea.

Giyorn lifted back his axe and in that very instant the sorcery which held
Jorm motionless broke.  His face filled with horror as he reached out to
grab Cretin, but it was too late; Giyorn struck a mighty blow.  Cretins
flesh writhed at the touch of that mystical blade, his body collapsed in a
heap.

'Traitor,' rasped Giyorn. 'Perish vile demon.'

Jorm was stunned.  He shook his head absently. 'No, Giyorn, that is not a
demon, that is our friend.'

Giyorn looked down at Cretin.  The body was moving in spasms and blood
soaked the floor.  Cretin seemed to be trying to raise his head but as he
did so the outline of his body began to fade.  The whole essence of the
demon was beginning to change.

'And it was I who was called the fool,' laughed the menacing mind voice of
Nomarn.

Giyorn swung around and charged headlong at the Baron.

Nomarn moved backwards, a fiery whip appeared in his hand. Giyorn had
covered only four paces when Nomarn cracked the whip. Seven tails of fire
coiled themselves around Giyorns face and body and with a cry of pain he
was spun to the floor.

Nomarn turned his attention to Jorm.  Again he cracked his whip. Jorm
crouched behind his shield and sparks flew wildly as the whip struck
metal.  Nomarn laughed bitterly and again he lashed the whip at Jorm.

'That is enough,' a calm voice spoke from a darkened archway.

The seemingly empty cowl of Nomarn moved perceptively towards the voice.

Miowni stepped out into the darkening chamber.  She cast an eye at the
fading star which was the only source of light; then she cast an eye to the
elden body which lay beside Jorms feet. 'Myrov,' she said. 'You did your
best, no one could ask more.'

Jorm looked at Miowni with disbelief.  The darkness had faded from her hair
and a light shone in her eyes.  Her skin seemed so pale and soft, it seemed
to highlight her high cheekbones. 'Miowni,' he said in a questioning
voice. 'I left you at the temple where you would be safe.'

Miowni nodded her head. 'There is nowhere safe to hide - not while Nomarn
walks your lands.' She turned her head to the Baron.

Nomarn raised a hand towards her and an emerald beam flowed through the
air, passing through Miowni as if she was not there.'

'Your nightmares cannot harm me, Baron. I have what you have craved so
long.  The power of the etherworld and the reality of life.  Twice I have
been under your power, the power of the ring, but that is ended forever.'
She held out a hand to the 'seeing glass'.  It drifted effortlessly from
its position above the sacrifice stone towards her hand. 'You sought to
draw me here to the gateway.  Now I have come.  You thought to again trap
me in the circle of fire and you almost succeeded, but to achieve your
desire you had to gather the seven shades of evil on the darkside of
this gateway to the shadowlands; and in the shadowlands they will remain.'

Miowni held the 'seeing glass' in her hand; though it was large it bore no
weight.  She lifted it high and it began to glow.

Nomarn moved backwards trying to shield itself from the light.

'What are you doing?' said Jorm. 'Why does the seeing glass glow?'

Miowni looked towards Jorm. 'Only I, Miriel Miowni, Queen of the elden have
the power to seal the darkworld.'  She looked at the 'seeing glass'. 'I
shall change this creation of evil into the light of the future, then once
more will the eagle shrine be the sentinel of your lands.'

Like a heavy weight, realisation fell upon Jorm.  He never dreamt the Queen
might look so young - unaged by the passing of years. All the time he had
thought Cretin to be the power which ruled over all eldenkind.  No one had
lied to him; yet his presumptions from the first day he trusted Cretin were
so hopelessly wrong. Cretin had never tried to dissuade him from his
beliefs; he should have guessed the truth.  Who could have released
Palanzarr from his penance, save the master wizard, Myrov, who had
sentenced him.  What a perfect act they had all performed.

Jorm gazed at Miowni through misty eyes.  He wanted to be angry with her,
but all he felt was a deep longing to again be near her.  It had wrenched
his heart to leave her at the temple but he had to do what he thought best
for her safety.

'You must go now,' said Miowni in a soft voice, 'lest you also become
trapped in the world of demons.  You have stood on the edge of the abyss;
it is time you walked away.'

'I cannot leave you here,' said Jorm. 'I cannot leave without you.  My
friends...They are here also, this is where they gave their lives so the
rest of humanity may live in freedom.'

Miowni smiled though it was a forlorn smile. 'Farewell Jorm, I do what I
must.  For an eternity I will remember you.  Perhaps in a time and place
not yet dreamt of we may meet again.' She held the glass above her head
clasping it with both hands.  The light grew stronger as her strength
drained into it.

Jorm could only look on as the light began to blind him.  Then he was stood
on the moorlands alone; his eyes staring up at the battlement. 'Miowni, do
not leave me alone,' he called. 'You are all that I have left.'

Powerful shafts of light thrust out from the tower battlement. Each archway
casting its own beacon of hope across the lands, burning the shadows of
fear from the minds of men, bringing the promise of better days to come.



                                   END
