Crown of Vengeance

INTERLUDE THREE

SORCERY AND STRATEGY

In the changeable world of Form and Time the Light had hidden the only weapon which could slay the eternal beautiful children of He Who Is. Only the arrogance of the Light had disclosed its secret, for had it not shared that secret with the Elvenkind, the Endarkened would have remained ignorant of it …

Until too late.

Virulan threw himself into preparations for the coming war as never before. In the World Without Sun, he made a nursery of horror, taking the races of the Bright World captive and there, twisting them to create the legions of his army. From the Fauns, he created the dwerro. From the fairies, he made goblins. Under his fell twistings, Hippogriffs became Serpentmarae, wolves became Coldwarg. From every living thing with which the Light had filled the Bright World, Virulan made a creature of the Darkness.

He let his monsters breed.

He withdrew his Endarkened from the lands of the Elflings, sending them across the Great Waters to hunt. Even there, he ordered them to work in secret. There would be no gathering of Brightworld clans against him, no warning for the Children of the Light of their fate.

And he himself hunted the Unicorn.

The creature was clever. All was as Uralesse had said: no matter what ordinary concealments of their form and nature the Endarkened used, the Unicorn could sense their presence. Finding where it laired was difficult. Capturing it seemed impossible. But Virulan was patient and clever. He considered the matter carefully, then set his artisans to craft nets.

Miles of nets.

This time, when the creature was spotted, the sky above Shadow Mountain turned black with the flight of the Endarkened. It was a risk to enter the Bright World so openly, but Virulan was determined to solve this riddle. He did not fear the power of the Unicorn, but one must always use the proper attack against the enemy. It was such attention to detail which elevated destruction to the realm of art.

As before, the Unicorn turned and bolted into the Flower Forest at the first sight of the Endarkened, but this time Virulan was prepared. He drove a horde of the Lesser Endarkened after it, knowing the creature would believe it could outrun its pursuers. When it exited the forest on the far side, the Endarkened were waiting. The Unicorn saw the net, but even as it turned to run along it, seeking its end, the Endarkened were drawing the net closed. The Lesser Endarkened swarmed out of the forest, encircling the net from without, holding it firm to the ground.

Inside the circle of netting, the Unicorn stood at bay. Its silver-white coat was fluffed out, making it appear soft and harmless. But there was nothing harmless-looking about the long, spiraling horn, which glowed red.

Virulan landed in the center of the circle, with Uralesse beside him. Virulan had a faint suspicion that being here was not a really good idea. If something unexpected happened, it might give his fellow Endarkened the absurd notion that their King did not know everything that transpired both in the Bright World and the World Without Sun. But from the moment the plan to trap the elusive creature with nets was made—and Virulan was now no longer entirely sure whose idea it had been—Uralesse had seemed to take it for granted that Virulan would of course desire the honor of the capture, or the kill, for himself. It had become impossible to say otherwise without seeming over-cautious, without according Uralesse too much honor.

“What use is your swiftness against our cleverness, Horned One?” Virulan said, drawing himself up to his full, imposing height.

The Unicorn’s nostrils flared as at a very bad smell. “What use are your nets against an enemy you can’t touch?” it answered. “As for ‘cleverness’ … well, that’s debatable.”

“I shall rip that horn from your head and skewer you with it!” Virulan roared, lunging for it.

“Oh, please do,” the Unicorn answered. It reared up, raising its head high so that Virulan’s taloned fingers missed their target and buried themselves in the Unicorn’s downy throat.

Pain! Virulan had often dealt suffering to others, but never had he felt such an unholy agony as he experienced at touching the Unicorn’s body. The pain was so great, and so unexpected, that he could do nothing to conceal it. He roared with agony and sprang backward.

The Unicorn … snickered.

“Foolish Virulan!” it said, its sides heaving with its laughter. “I am purity incarnate! The touch of my horn can turn the most virulent poison into sweet water—shall we see what it will do to a creature whose very thoughts are poison?” It reared again, brandishing its horn menacingly.

Virulan took a slow step backward. He was not foolish enough to order any of his minions to attack. If they tried and failed, such failure would kindle the ember of rebellion in their treacherous hearts. If they tried and succeeded …

It would be not an ember, but a flame.

He smiled.

“Then I shall not touch it—or you. But you will die here this day. And any obstacle you might present to my plans will thus be ended.” He spread his wings and bounded into the sky. “Bind it in the nets!” he cried. “We shall see who is the greater!”

The Endarkened hurried to obey, and in moments the Unicorn was buried beneath several hundredweight of bronze nets. When it lay crushed against the ground Virulan stepped onto the pile of nets that covered it, being careful not to let his feet touch its body—and not to let the others see his care

“Where is your laughter now, Unicorn?” he said cruelly.

“Still here,” the Unicorn answered, though it was gasping for breath. “You see … I am not … the only one … of my kind. They watch … even now. So I must say … King of Shadows … that the last laugh is … mine.”

Virulan gazed around himself in horror, but he saw nothing. “Bring stones!” he screamed. “Heavy stones! Crush the life from this witless talking beast!”

The Endarkened hurried to obey and soon there was nothing to see but a mound of stones and the twisted links of the ruined net.

The creature was dead, but even the scent of its blood did not comfort Virulan.

“So you see, Uralesse, it is a simple matter to slay these creatures,” he said grandly. “I shall expect you to be more efficient about it next time.”

He held Uralesse’s gaze with his own. If this had been some concealed ploy of Uralesses’s to discredit him, it had failed. If it were not, let Uralesse be humbled by this new task his King had set him. If he succeeded, the hateful Unicorns would be scoured from the world. If he failed, then any threat he might have hoped to present would be ended as well.

“Of course, my king. All will be as you say.”

As he watched Uralesse attempt to pretend he was delighted at this new honor, much of Virulan’s good humor was restored. Let Uralesse plot. Let them all plot. Virulan was still the master of Shadow Mountain and all that dwelt within it.

And the time of war—and his ultimate triumph—came nearer with each Brightworld day.