Dance of Demons

Chapter 25

There might have been serious bickering indeed, had not the butler intervened. As often, the maids had spent too much time in gossip, and too little in preparation for the great occasion. Even the head cook had become involved in whatever little dispute the maids had entered.

Time to put a stop to this, thought the butler. "No more from either of you, hear? There's too much work to be done in short time for such wagging of tongues and wasting of energies, I'll have you know. If any of you have extra energy, I'll be happy to assign you tasks in my buttery. ."

The maids sniffed, but busied themselves nonetheless. The head cook bustled away without comment either, though muttering something under her breath, as she went, about having to fix dainties for a thousand. In truth the kitchens were in something approaching an uproar, and drink as the guests might, food would be more in demand than wine, ale or spirits in the immediate future.

Soon after the arrival of the butler, others of the palace's officers drifted in. Steward, chamberlain, constable, sergeant-at-arms, chancellor, and even the keeper of the wardrobe were soon gathered in the great room. Then usher, porter, and verderer joined in the conference. "Is it true that all five of the Kings of Avillon are to be here?" one of their number asked.

The steward ticked them off by rote: "Albion, Caledonia, Cymru, Hybernia, Lyonnesse — yes, ail of them, and soon too."

The porter, being perhaps the least experienced of the palace officials, was agog at that. "All the way from those strange kingdoms to Hy Brazeal! For as strange a union — "

The chancellor shushed the fellow instantly. "Speak no ill of your betters!" The porter tried to become inconspicuous, and the talk circled quickly to other subjects. Then the knot of functionaries dissolved, for there was a myriad of things to accomplish and only a few hours left for them to manage their tasks. Even with staffs varying in size from only a handful, in the case of the porter, to the steward's scores, there never seemed to be enough hands.

"He comes!" an equerry said hastily. The uproar of preparation increased at those words, then suddenly calmed to become an almost orchestrated movement like a dance. Guards snapped to attention, servitors stood ready, and all but the most important of ministerial and domestic staff found their assigned places and routine functions for such an occasion.

The master of the palace entered through the great double doors of the hall. "All is in readiness. Your Sagacity," the steward pronounced.

As if there might be some untruth in his servant's assertion, the master surveyed things around most carefully. Finally, after a long scrutiny, he agreed. "Very good. Major domo, place the household under the supervision of the seneschal. He shall have to miss the rite, but some must. . "

"Of course, sagacity. I will repair to the chapel immediately to see that the other officers are in their proper places." With a bow and smile of thanks, the steward departed.

There was nothing else for him to do but to take his own place in the temple area and greet the arriving guests, noble, royal, and those of yet more exalted status. Think of it! Well, upon reflection, he was himself now a "personage', one to whom even emperors bowed. The business of being Demiurge was still strange and a bit uncomfortable to him, but considering the alternative, there was no comparison. "I'll get used to it. ."

"Your pardon, Sagacity? I did not understand you properly. …"

"Never mind, third equerry. I simply expressed a thought out loud."

". . and join together in union inseparable for eternity the two great estates here come together. Now shall the King of the one bestow his kiss upon the Queen of the other," intoned the pontiff as he beamed effusively upon the royal couple before him and the great assemblage of guests seated beyond. Upon seeing that the proper embrace had been accomplished, the priest resumed his ceremony, voice resonant, obviously well trained for ritual orations lasting for what seemed an eternity to those little interested in such things.

Far to the rear and well out of earshot of the really important persons there, two young knights stood fidgeting and uncomfortable. "I can say one thing for our new lord," the taller of the pair whispered.

"What's that?" the shorter asked quietly.

"He can certainly stage one rousing festival!" his companion said with real enthusiasm. "I've never seen so much food and drink — and the ladies!" At the last word the young fellow whistled softly, and a nearby petty lord turned and sent a scowl in the direction of the two.

"Softly. . " his friend hissed. Then he smiled broadly. "I can but concur, though, brother. This new Demiurge of ours does things right. The whole of our land of Hy Brazeal is filled with tales of his grandness."

"That's so; and have you heard of his exploits? For a Personage, our Gellor is one tough man!"

"Not man, oaf! He is Demiurge! Tell me, from what kingdom does his name hail?"

"I have no idea. . Hsst! The garrulous pontiff concludes."

"… all ye present be ready to salute the Rex Felis Gord and Queen Leda of Shadowrealm!" came the resonant tones from the priest, and both knights sprang into a chivalrous stance as the smiling bride and groom were blessed and peals of music began to thunder the recessional.

In a distant yet proximate otherwhen and alltime, Proctor Chronos and Lady Tolerance turned from their viewing of the nuptials. "Would we could have explained all to those three good folk," Chronos said.

"As well as having means to prevent their torments ere they could pass to this alternate reality," she added. "But we had no such choices, though I be mistress of alternatives, and you are master of time's many channels."

"So true, my lady, so true. Had that vile scum detected our trap, the whole would have come a cropper, as they say."

Lady Tolerance was uncertain if he meant Tharizdun, the lord of Entropy, or both when he mentioned "scum." It covered both so well she decided not to ask. "They sealed their own tomb, didn't they, Chronos? And all to defeat a trio of mortals with little but some small tokens of power."

"That they did, but the tokens were quite puissant, considering. Remember it was the three rings which drew all of Entropy's essence into that one pocket cosmos. It was if the entity willingly climbed into his own crypt and shut it fast afterward."

"It is not for eternity.. ."

"No, not in terms of the multiverse, good lady. He and Tharizdun will have some length of stay there in the severed continuum, though. After a few ages have rolled the archfiend will expire, I suppose. Then the Lord of Entropy will be loose everywhere again."

"Are you so certain as to the eventual winner?"

"Not even Evil can withstand the creeping inroads of inertia. That one will eventually bring even you and I down. . perhaps. There is much new energy and life to be sent into the multiverse whilst the thug is caged, of course!"

"Ah yes," Lady Tolerance agreed. "Millennia without unwanted decay! There is much for me to do, and you'll have your hands full as well, marking and charting without interference, won't you?"

"A pleasurable prospect," Chronos said, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

She thought of Entropy's gullibility. "The inert one was so anxious to squash out all vitality with his deadening weight that he totally ignored the many probable outcomes of his own cooperation with the Archfiend."

"Not surprising," Chronos noted. "Even I have trouble trying to second-guess probability when there are more than a score or so variables in the equation. But of course we had to be most spare in allowing the champion and his comrades time and opportunity. We did a masterful job, didn't we? It all seemed perfectly natural. The right inspiration at the correct moment, and no chance for failure."

"No chance, for Probability was being ruled. Time meted out exactly."

"I was particularly proud of your diverse solution to the rescue of the three, wondrous lady."

"As Tharizdun unmade the sword by the same progression of evil which had given Courflamme such might, he thought he was demolishing the truth of the weapon. Of course, the blade was augmented incredibly by addition of the destructive and creative forces which came into it during the time of confrontation. Basically, however, Courflamme was of Balance. Tharizdun should have remembered that. It was shadow and dawn through dewdrops, forged in and of the elements. All in all, a very mundane weapon."

"As he destroyed it, its three components were freed to give life again to Gord and Leda and the bard too," Chronos ruminated. "Entropy then helped to send them into our prepared alternate existence, with the blessings of Weal, as he destroyed the rings.

The Mistress of Probabilities became solemn. "The price which had to be paid.

"Most of the good ones, the ones of neutral aspect as well, are now incarnated here. Those who were instrumental in the war, the ones who paid with the greatest suffering and even death agonies, are now rewarded too."

"You refer to Gord, now Lord of Cats, and Leda who rules the shadowsphere, I suppose. Those two are well suited to their domains — and to each other!"

"Do you forget the old troubador? Gellor has much before him, and most of it wealsome, I should suspect. They are but three of the many now finding their new lives on the rich lands of Yarth. Bah! I begin to run on insufferably, and with things you know better than I, lady."

True Proctor Chronos, but I enjoy hearing you say so, for it is ever satisfying to hear praise." She laughed, and the Lord of Time smiled ruefully. He hadn't meant to shower Lady Tolerance with such admiring phrases. Friends or no, they could well be at odds soon, although of most friendly manner. The contest between them now had yet longer span ahead than ever before. "Well. .?"

"Well indeed. Changing Lady! Let us two see what we can devise in the way of new prospects for ourselves."

"Proctor! I am shocked!" Chronos stood up. "Wait," Lady Tolerance implored. "Not so shocked as to refuse your suggestion! If you have the time, I am the one for variations."

If indeed a whole cosmos was gone, a world devastated and sunk into forgotten nothing, the gray city depopulated, and all that went with it consigned to the flames of gross Evil, life still persisted. In truth, it burgeoned in freshness and vitality throughout the multiverse, in the conjoined realms of shadow and of the felines who walked through the night, Gord and Leda, and on a riotous new world called Yarth. The one-eyed overseer of its precincts was likely to prove a worthy Demiurge.

Evil won. . and lost. It is the way of things, and always a new adventure awaits — just around the bend of the road.