The interior of the tavern was crowded with people, all human. As the three overpeople entered a sudden quiet spread before them. Three dozen pairs of eyes watched them intently. In the silence earth could hear the sound of a knife sliding from its sheath.

Saram muttered, "I think you had better say something."

"People of Skelleth!" earth said, "We have come in peace. The battle is over. We mean you no harm; we have come here to drink and to talk, nothing more."

The silence and tension remained; the crowd still watched.

"Innkeeper," Galt called, "five mugs of your best ale!" He sauntered into the room, found an empty chair, and seated himself. The table he had chosen was occupied by two grubby, middle-aged men in stained tunics. "I hope you don't mind if we join you," he said casually, "but there don't appear to be any vacant tables."

One of the men muttered a vague reply; the other sat and stared.

Galt waved to earth and the others. "Come and sit downy"

Hesitantly earth obeyed, taking the remaining empty chair at the table.

Kyrith followed, and stood awkwardly for a moment until Saram brought her achair from a neighboring table.

"Uh...we were just going," one of the villagers said. He rose and backed cautiously away. His companion sat and stared.

Saram escorted Frima into the vacated place, then tapped the lingering human on the shoulder. "Excuse me, friend, but would you mind moving to another table?"

The man looked up, startled. "Hah? Oh...no, no, of course not." He got awkwardly to his feet and followed his companion, backing away from the table and finding an empty chair elsewhere.

Saram seated himself and remarked, "That's better." He raised an arm and called, "Innkeeper, where's that ale?"

Galt remarked, "Garth, you really don't know much about dealing with humans. You don't want to make speeches to a crowd like this; just convince them that you belong. Actions are far more convincing than words."

"A truth I had forgotten momentarily," Saram agreed.

The other patrons were beginning to lose interest and turn away. The innkeeper was approaching with a tray bearing ale. Garth glanced around the room, realized the crisis was over, and allowed himself to relax. He also noted in pa.s.sing that the Forgotten King was at his customary table, as if nothing had happened.

"Now, Garth," Galt said, "we would like to hear your explanation for your behavior."

"One moment." The ale had arrived, and Garth downed his in a few quick gulps. He handed back the empty mug and said, "Keep refilling this until I tell you to stop."

The innkeeper nodded. "Yes, my lord."

The other four were not hasty in their drinking; the man departed with earth's mug while they sipped their ale.

"Where shall I begin?" earth asked.

"Wherever you please," Galt replied.

"At the beginning," Saram said.

Kyrith nodded in agreement.

"What beginning?" earth asked.

"We thought your behavior odd when you first ventured south from the Northern Waste," Galt replied. "Why not begin by explaining how that came to pa.s.s?"

"I am not certain where the beginning of that was," Garth said. "Last winter, I suppose, though I cannot name a date; it seemed to grow gradually."

"Start with that," Galt told him.

"Very well. You all know how the winters in our lands can wear on one-save perhaps Frima, who is not from these northern realms. The shortness of the days, the paleness of the light, the cold, the snow, the ice-all oppress the mind and the senses. This past winter seemed to affect me more than usual, though it was not an especially harsh one. I found myself depressed and bored; each day I told myself that it would pa.s.s, but each day I seemed to sink further into gloom. I could think of nothing but death and despair, and the futility of our lives, struggling to live in the Waste, able to do little more than survive. Every event seemed to contribute to my melancholy; when the hundred and forty-fourth anniversary of my birth arrived, all I could think of was that I must now be more than halfway to my death. It seemed that I had done nothing of any importance in that half of my life. I had won a few inconsequential battles with pirates and raiders, I had fathered a few children, and I had spoken in the City Council on such matters as rebuilding wharves and buying arms. The pirates and raiders survived and will doubtlessly return; my children will grow old and die; my speeches will be forgotten. What was worse, I saw no prospect of anything better in the future.

I would grow old and die without ever having done anything to make a mark upon the world. In a century or two, no one would remember that I had ever existed.

I did not want that to come about, but I could think of no way to avoid it."

"No one looks forward to death," Galt said.Garth glanced in the direction of the Forgotten King, but did not deny Galt's statement. Instead, he said, "I know, I know, it is the way of things.

I was not satisfied with that, however, and resolved to change it, if it could be changed. I went to the Wise Women of Ordunin and asked, first, whether there was anything I could do that would alter this way of things, some act of cosmic significance I could perform that would change the nature of life. They told me that was beyond the power of mortals. I had expected that. I then asked if there was any way that I could be remembered forever, so that, if I had to die, at least my memory might survive."

The innkeeper arrived with Garth's second ale; he drank it and handed back the mug. Before he could resume his narrative, Saram asked, "Who are the Wise Women of Ordunin? You have mentioned an oracle of some sort, but you never told me much about them."

"Ao and Ta are sisters who live in a cave near Ordunin; both are ancient and deformed overwomen," Galt told him. "They have been there at least since the city was built during the Racial Wars. They will speak with certain people, but avoid all others by hiding in the depths of their cave. They answer questions. Although no one has ever known them to lie or to be wrong, they are fond of evasive and confusing answers."

"You trust them?"

"They have never been wrong and have never lied," Garth said. "I trusted them last winter. I am not certain I will trust them in the future."

"Go on, then, with your story," Galt said.

"When I asked the Wise Women how I might be remembered until the end of time, Ao told me that I must go to Skelleth, find the Forgotten King, and serve him without fail. She told me the name of this inn, and that he could be found here wearing yellow rags. I was sufficiently caught up in my search for eternal fame that I immediately gathered together supplies, armed myself, and came south on Koros-though I had not yet named it then; it was simply my warbeast. I told no one what I planned because I considered it wholly my own affair and did not want it known that I was coming to Skelleth. I feared that the City Council might consider such a venture potentially dangerous, since at that time we all still believed Skelleth to be a mighty fortress, from whence the humans might attack us at any time. I could not then truly explain why I was suddenly so concerned with being remembered, why I was obsessed with death, or what had brought on my depression; I still cannot. Whatever the reason, knowing I would be remembered seemed the most important thing imaginable.

"I knew nothing about Skelleth, of course, save for the old tales from the wars, and not much more about humans. When I saw that the walls were in ruins, I thought that the fortress must be deserted; therefore, I rode directly in, making no attempt at stealth. When I came upon people, it was too late to change my approach, so I continued on openly and asked directions to the King's Inn.

"Here I found the Forgotten King, exactly matching the description I had been given; he told me he could, indeed, guarantee that my name would be known until the end of time if I were to serve him, and if he were successful in some great feat of magic he had planned. I agreed to undertake an errand for him as a trial of sorts; I was to go to the city of Mormoreth, southeast of here, and bring back the first living thing I found in the crypts beneath the city. I did as he asked, but I was not pleased with the outcome. The only living thing in the crypts was a basilisk, a magical and incredibly poisonous creature, so venomous that its slightest touch or even its gaze was fatal. To capture it, I had to kill several bandits and a wizard, which I had no wish to do."

"In the course of attempting to deliver it, I encountered further difficulties; the Baron of Skelleth learned of the creature's existence, and desired it for use as a weapon of war. He took possession of it briefly, but I recaptured it and delivered it to the King. I didn't know what he wanted with it, or what he did with it, but it did not serve his purpose. When he hadfinished with it, I killed it, rather than let so dangerous a creature fall into the hands of the mad Baron."

"That enraged the Baron; he already disliked me because I had failed to cooperate with him, and being deprived of the basilisk seems to have caused him to hate me implacably."

"Meanwhile, I had reconsidered my bargain with the Forgotten King. I was dismayed at having accomplished nothing beyond several deaths in running his errand; when he pointed out that I would be remembered in Skelleth and Mormoreth for those deaths, I broke off our agreement. I was no longer so enamored of eternal fame as to wish to buy it through slaughter and servitude."

"The King, however, perhaps to soothe me, made a suggestion; he pointed out that, as I could see, Skelleth was no longer the unforgiving enemy of overmankind that it had once been, and that I might acquire some measure of fame and wealth by establishing trade between Skelleth and the Northern Waste.

As you all know, I set out to do that. I found you, Galt, to handle the details of trade, that being outside my own knowledge, and brought you, Tand, and Larth back here to open up trade, only to learn that the Baron would not cooperate with the one who had deprived him of the basilisk and his hopes of becoming a mighty warlord. He set intolerable conditions on our trading in order to humiliate me. You know that, Galt; you were there. You know that he asked me to swear fealty to him, to become his va.s.sal.

"Caught by surprise, I foolishly agreed to present his proposal to the City Council and, in fact, swore an oath to that effect. That was a bad mistake on my part; I concede that."

A third mug of ale arrived; Garth paused to drink, but did not gulp it down as he had the first two. He waved the hovering innkeeper away.

"It is difficult for me to explain exactly why I acted as I did. I had it fixed in my mind that the establishment of trade was an absolute necessity, both for the good of our people and for my own aggrandizement. I wanted to accomplish something that would be an unmixed blessing, that would be beneficial to all concerned, and the opening of this trade route seemed to fit. No one would die; I would be serving no mysterious old man. Still, I would achieve renown which, if not eternal, would at least be of a positive nature. Convinced as I was of the value, to myself and to Ordunin, of trade, I was ready to agree unthinkingly to almost any terms. It took the shock of the Baron's insults and arrogance to jar me out of that. "By the time I realized what I had done in swearing that oath and accepting banishment, it was too late to retract. To have gone to the Baron and asked him to reconsider at that point would have been humiliating in itself. I wanted time to think, to see if there were any way to arrange matters more to my satisfaction. The oath I had sworn had a loophole-I had agreed to speak to the Council immediately upon my return to Ordunin, but I had not said when I would return. I decided, therefore, that I would leave Skelleth as ordered, but would not return home.

Galt told you this, Kyrith, or part of it, but you chose not to believe him. I have treated you badly in giving you no explanation before this and I apologize for my negligence."

"Having decided that I could be in neither Skelleth nor Ordunin, I had nowhere to go. I could have gone to Kirpa, I suppose, or Mormoreth, but I had no reason to. The Forgotten King had expressed an interest in renewing our bargain and had even offered to change the terms, promising me not merely eternal fame but actual immortality if I would return to his service. I was not eager to accept; I'm sure you know tales of how a long life can prove more a curse than a blessing, and I had begun to suspect that the old man was practicing deceit. I was wary. However, I had nothing better to do, and he promised me that running his new errand would provide me with the means of avenging the slights I had received from the Baron of Skelleth. Therefore, I agreed to attempt the task he set, though I made no promises that I would complete it. This task was to bring him whatever I found upon the altars of the seven temples of Dusarra. I had no idea where Dusarra was, or how long itwould take me to rob the seven temples, or even whether I would truly go there; therefore I could not tell Galt when I would be back. I guessed that it would be by the end of the year and told him to tell you that, Kyrith. I should have told him more, explained the situation perhaps, but I was angry and slightly drunk at the time and in no mood to do so. I am sincerely sorry if I caused you worry."

He finished his ale and put the mug to one side. Kyrith nodded, as if accepting his apology.

"You still haven't explained the sword or the girl," Galt said.

"I'm coming to that. I did go to Dusarra, you see; the task was an interesting challenge. I had a vague idea that if I found and brought back whatever it was the Forgotten King wanted, I could withhold it from him until he met whatever demands I might decide to make. He is a magician of some sort, there's no doubt of that."

"At any rate, I found Dusarra and robbed six of the seven temples. Some were easy; others were not. I won't go into detail about what I found or what I did, but there are a few things worth mentioning."

"Dusarra is the city of the dark G.o.ds, the seven G.o.ds of evil that humans believe in. Each of the seven has a temple and a cult-or had. One of the G.o.ds is Bheleu, the G.o.d of destruction; his temple was a ruin, his altar a pile of burning wood. The sword I brought back with me was on that altar. From the first moment I saw it, it seemed to have some sort of control over me; I felt a compulsion to take it from the altar, ignoring the flames, and to kill the worshippers of Bheleu with it. I did. It was involuntary on my part. As you have all seen at various times and in various ways, the sword is undeniably magical and powerful. It was also very useful; in the course of events in Dusarra, I lost virtually all my other weapons, so that I needed it for my own protection. Therefore, dangerous as it was, I brought it back with me. That was obviously a mistake. I thought I had it under control, but I was completely wrong; it seized hold of me again and made me slay the Baron and start the battle. That did indeed gain me my vengeance upon the Baron, as the Forgotten King had promised, but the other results are less pleasant."

"After the battle, the sword had apparently exhausted its power temporarily; I awoke in an alleyway with it lying beside me, the red gem dark and no compulsion or anger working on me. I tried to break it, but could not.

My attempt only caused it to glow again. Rather than permit it to dominate me anew, I fled and came here, leaving it where it lay."

Having completed his tale, he sipped his ale.

"You claim, then, that your apparent insanity was the work of this magical sword?" Galt asked.

"Yes, exactly," Garth answered.

"That alone?"

"I believe so-that is, if you refer to my actions since acquiring the sword. I have no good explanation for the depression that first drove me into venturing south after eternal fame."

"No, I can accept that; I have heard of such emotions before. It's not uncommon for overmen of your age. It's the sword that worries me. If it is truly what you say, was it wise to leave it lying about unguarded?"

"Perhaps not, but I had little choice. I dared not touch it again; the brightness of the glow a.s.sured me that it would seize control immediately."

"Would it not be better for you to handle it, now that you know of its dangers, than to leave it where any stranger happening along might pick it up?"

"Ah, but such a stranger could not pick it up. You saw, did you not, what happened when Herrenmer attempted to touch it?"

"My view was not clear," Galt began.

"I was not there at all," Saram said, interrupting. "What happened?"

"The hilt grew hot to his touch and burned him so badly that he could not pick it up. Yet a second later, I used it without taking harm. I have thought this over, considering as well the circ.u.mstances under which I cameinto possession of the sword, and have concluded that it cannot be used by humans. Therefore, we need only keep our own troops away from it to ensure that it will not be used."

"I am not sure, Garth. Perhaps we should test this."

Garth shrugged. "Perhaps we should, but to test it may be dangerous. If it worries you, then post a guard around the sword. That would ease my own mind as well."

"I find it hard," Galt said, "to accept your claims about the sword's power. I admit that it has magic to it, but it is merely metal; how can it have a mind and will of its own?"

"I don't say that it does; it may merely be linked to some great power.

I am tempted to believe that it is in truth controlled by the actual G.o.d of destruction, whatever he may be. My experiences in Dusarra have shaken my atheism; there are undoubtedly spirits and powers in the world beyond what we know."

"Could it not be, Garth, that something-perhaps the sword, which plainly is magical, or perhaps something else you encountered in your journeying-has driven you mad and caused you to imagine this controlling power?"

Garth considered this. "I suppose it could be," he admitted. "But I do not think it to be the case."

"We will have to investigate the sword further and test out what you have said."

"You are free to do so, but do not expect me to use it again. I ask only that you be very, very careful."

"Whether you are correct in your belief in its power, or merely deluded by madness, it seems to me that we cannot wholly trust you."

Garth shrugged. "I will not argue with that. I think you will see, in time, that I am again as rational and sane as you."

"That would seem to be settled, then."

Galt was interrupted by Kyrith; she touched his arm and then pointed at Frima. "Oh, yes," Galt said. "Who is this person, and why did you bring her here from Dusarra?"

"Frima? That's simple. My task was to bring back whatever I found on the seven altars; at the time I arrived in the temple of Sai, the G.o.ddess of pain, her worshippers were in the process of sacrificing Frima. She was the only thing on the altar, so I took her and brought her back with me. Having done so, I had no further use for her and turned her free."

"It would seem you have, as you said, an explanation for everything-bizarre as those explanations may be."

"Yes. If you would like confirmation of some part of what I have said about the sword, Frima can attest to its effects upon my temper. She saw on the journey back here that, when the red jewel glowed, I became angry; when it dimmed, I remained calm."

Frima spoke for the first time. "That's right."

"Another question occurs to me," Galt said. "You were sent to fetch these things by the so-called Forgotten King; why, then, did you not deliver them to him?"

"He refused them. You will recall I said I robbed six of the seven altars. The seventh held nothing but a skull that was apparently part of the altar and which I did not trouble to pry loose. The old man, however, claims that the altar should have held a book, which was the only item he really needed. My failure to deliver this book angered him so that he marched off and left the other things in my possession. I regret that, since his magic seemed able to control the sword; had he kept it, today's battle might not have taken place."

"Curious."

"Perhaps not. The caretaker of the seventh temple, the shrine of The G.o.d Whose Name Is Not Spoken, told me that the G.o.d's true high priest was a mysterious ancient called the Forgotten King. The description was unmistakably of the same man. The King has not denied it. It is not so strange, then, thathe would know what might be found in his own G.o.d's temple, and that he might wish to make use of it"

"I see. The underlying circ.u.mstances here remain unclear, but I begin to understand that they are in fact interrelated."

"My own thoughts are similar," Garth agreed, "and I want no further part of it. I have done with magic and G.o.ds and priests, I hope. For the moment, since you feel I cannot yet be trusted, it appears I am done with politics and diplomacy as well."

"Then we are agreed that Kyrith and I will retain command?"

"Yes. We cannot be sure that I am truly free of the sword's influence.

From your point of view, we cannot be sure I am sane. I do hope, though, that you will permit me to advise you. I know more about Skelleth and the lands to the south from first-hand experience than any other overman living."

"True. What, then, would you advise us to do in the current situation?"

"The most important consideration is to establish peace with Eramma, but it is not, perhaps, the most immediately pressing. The need to provide some organization here in Skelleth seems more urgent. A human should be appointed to take charge of the surviving human population, as a sort of interim baron, under your command; the humans would not take well to the direct rule of our people, and we in turn do not understand how humans think, so that direct rule would be inefficient and unnecessarily galling. I would recommend Saram here for the position, since, as a former guardsman-and perhaps the only one surviving-he has some experience at organization. He was a lieutenant and therefore knows how to give orders. Furthermore, he is a human we are comfortable in dealing with, and one who seems comfortable with us, yet who is not outcast by his own kind."

Saram protested, "I don't want the job."

"So much the better; you'll be less tempted to abuse it."