Nemesis

CHAPTER 12

Beneath the main causeway leading into the Stronghold, the remnants of the Skyshroud Expeditionary Force marshaled, awaiting the orders of Greven il-Vec. Predator droned overhead, searching the wide plains for the enemy. The airship had attacked several bands of rebels the previous day, landing troops beside (and sometimes among) the startled foe. These small actions had done much to restore the army's morale, and Crovax or no Crovax, they were marching into the Stronghold as an army, not a defeated rabble.

A percher landed on Greven's shoulder. "Urgent from Predator! Urgent from Predator!" it squawked.

He hated the raucous, leathery creatures. "What now?"

"Unknown intruder! Unknown intruder-" Greven grasped the irritating creature by the neck. The percher's heart fluttered wildly.

"Land in the hollow below Three-Toe Hill," he said to the messenger. "I will meet you there."

He flung the percher into the air. It circled once, then flapped away to find the airship.

Greven hollered orders at Nasser. "Take the men to their barracks. Send the wounded to the healers, then confine everyone to quarters until I return."

"Trouble?" asked Nasser.

He had no idea but answered, "No."

Three-Toe Hill was a forty-foot high promontory half a mile east of the causeway. There was a wide but shallow hollow below the hill where the airship could land and not be seen while on the ground. By the time Greven walked there as no kerl existed big enough to carry him, Predator was waiting.

The airship's boatswain, Narmer by name, was on the ground waiting for Greven. He ran up the slope when the commander's huge silhouette appeared on the hilltop.

"Dread Lord!"

"What's this about an intruder? Can't you handle a lone man on foot?" said Greven.

"There's more to it than that, Dread Lord." Narmer looked quite disturbed. He wrung his hands and scuffed his feet continuously in the dry turf. "I thought this should be brought to your attention immediately."

"All right." Greven unlocked his jaw. "Let's find this intruder of yours."

Narmer put a hand to the warrior's massive chest. Greven was frankly surprised the boatswain dared touch him.

"There's no need, Dread Lord."

"What? Why not?"

"We picked him up," Narmer said. He pointed to Predator, hovering a few feet off the ground. A figure appeared at the rail, deeply clothed in the shadow of the hill behind them. "He wishes to speak to you."

Greven went slowly to the dangling rope ladder. For one of the few times in his life, he actually experienced a feeling of dread. The shadowed figure leaned on the rail. As Greven's eyes accustomed to the shade, he saw the intruder's face.

"Eladamri, you're insane."

Darsett en-Dal and the inner circle of the rebellion were seated in the great room of Eladamri's home. Their host sat on the floor by the door, casually whittling a block of wood. The garnet on the pommel of his carving knife gleamed in the cool light of four foxfire lamps.

"I mean that with all due respect," Darsett added when no one seconded his opinion. "What I mean is, this scheme of yours seems far more desperate than circumstances require."

"I've been hunted by the airship for years," Eladamri replied. He scored a hole in the end of the stick and blew away loose wood chips. "My wife died in an airship attack. There's no way the rebellion can proceed with that machine flying over us, spying on everything we do and raining death on us from above."

"Granted, O Eladamri, but why must you go on this raid? How do you know Greven il-Vec won't have you killed on the spot?" said Tant Jova.

"I know him," said the elf. "If he thinks he can lay hands on me, killing me is the last thing he'll want to do. Greven will want to know all the details of the rebellion, including the names of my allies." He smiled at his Dal and Vec friends. "In either case he'll want me alive, for a time. That's all I need."

In the past few weeks, Eladamri had aged noticeably. The hard, determined elf he'd always been had given way to a contemplative, almost wistful one. He'd not worn a helmet since meeting the Oracle en-Vec, going bare headed with his long hair tied back in a rough ponytail. Deep lines etched his face, and his eyes betrayed a weariness never present before.

"I wish you'd let some of us go with you," Gallan said.

"That would only increase the danger," Eladamri replied. "There are no elves in the evincar's army, and my escort must pass close inspection as Rathi soldiers."

"There are no women in Volrath's army, either," Gallan protested. "Yet Liin Sivi is going with you!"

"Sivi is the best fighter in my clan," Tant Jova protested. "She's an adept of the toten-vec." This was the unique whip-knife combination weapon used only by female warrior societies of the Vec. "I'm not happy Eladamri has chosen this course, but I feel better in my heart if Sivi is with him in the Stronghold."

"It's settled," Eladamri said. He slipped together the two halves of the fetish he'd carved. A little glue and the joint would be invisible. "We'll leave tomorrow at sunset. Do we have enough captured uniforms and equipment?"

"Enough for a regiment," Darsett said, grinning. "There's a surfeit of officer's outfits. We can all be Rathi officers if we want. They died especially often."

"If I show up at the Stronghold the prisoner of ten officers, I think they'll be a little suspicious," Eladamri said. "It would be best if you went as the lowliest of privates."

Eladamri's plan called for a hand-picked force of ten warriors drawn from his Dal and Vec allies to don Rathi uniforms. They would walk to the Stronghold with Eladamri as their "prisoner" and present him to the authorities there. Once inside the Stronghold, they would find where Predator was moored and destroy the airship. Gallan and Tant Jova would assemble the rebel army, now almost eleven thousand strong, and when Eladamri and his team returned, a full scale war on the Stronghold would commence.

"What if you don't find the Predator conveniently docked, waiting for destruction?" asked Gallan.

"Then we'll wait until it returns," replied the elf leader. "And if Greven murders you before the airship comes back?" Eladamri was momentarily silent while he bored a hole in the top half of the image he was making. He licked the end of a length of string and threaded it through the hole.

"This war is not about me, Gallan. Understand that now. Whether I live or die, this is not Eladamri's rebellion. It belongs to every free person on Rath, not to me. If I die on this operation or any other, you must fight on, do you hear? Otherwise everything we've fought for becomes just vanity, an empty struggle for glory. Will you swear to carry on the fight no matter what happens to me?"

"It is sworn, O Eladamri," said Tant Jova. "I swear," Liin Sivi added.

"You're a fool," Darsett said, scratching his bearded cheek. "A gallant, dedicated fool I'm proud to know. I swear, too."

Gallan was alone. Everyone in the room watched him struggle for the words.

"I will fight on," he said at last. "But if you die, I further swear to show no mercy to Crovax, Greven il-Vec, or any other Stronghold leader. They will all die-by my hand, if necessary."

Eladamri continued to carve. The pile of white shavings at his feet grew larger.

"Thank you, Gallan," he said.

"Crovax's army has returned," Ertai said.

He was standing by one of the odd, protruding egg-shaped windows in the evincar's quarters. Far below, he could see the soldiers fanning out from the causeway to the Dal city located on the lip of the crater wall. Overnight word had spread about the massacre, and there'd been trouble in all the settlements. Nothing major-no attacks were made on the Citadel-but small bands of outraged city dwellers had roamed the streets all night. Some moggs had been killed and small groups of soldiers set upon, but when the Citadel garrison turned out, the troublemakers went home. The knowledge that both Crovax and Greven were present in the crater deterred the common folk from taking matters too far.

Inside the Citadel, however, a siege mentality took over. Patrols constantly circled inside the fortress, making sure all entrances were secure. Dorian il-Dal was prostrate after witnessing the aftermath of Crovax's revenge, and he had abandoned his regular duties. Fearing assassination, courtiers locked themselves in their rooms. Belbe withdrew to the evincar's suite. Before long, Ertai joined her, his clothes stuffed with scrolls borrowed from the Citadel's libraries. They spoke little. Ertai dragged a chaise to the window and read there, occasionally glancing outside to see what was happening. Belbe huddled in one of Volrath's oversized chairs, her knees drawn up to her chin. She stayed there for a complete night and half of the following day.

"I'm afraid," she finally said.

Ertai looked up from his scroll. "Why are you afraid? You're the emissary of Phyrexia. Of the people here, you're probably the safest one of all. No one dares harm you."

"Perhaps I misuse the word. I've never felt this way before. I think it's fear."

"What are you afraid of?"

"Hurting someone."

Ertai left the chaise and leaned on the arm of Belbe's chair. "You're afraid of hurting someone else, not being hurt yourself?"

"Yes."

"Who're you afraid of hurting?"

"Crovax."

The young sorcerer did a double take. "By all the colors," he said. "Why should you be afraid of that?"

"Because I want to hurt him. I think about it all the time. I want to break his limbs, put out his eyes, dismember him, castrate him-"

"I get the idea," Ertai said hastily. "No one would weep if you did kill Crovax."

She seized his hand in a powerful grip. "Listen to what I say! I want to hurt him, and when I'm done, I want to hurt him all over again. Killing him would be mercy. I don't want him to find any mercy!"

"Belbe, my hand-"

"At first the images were just fleeting. I could distract myself with other things. In the Dream Halls I broke Volrath's dream records because I really wanted to break Crovax's skull."

Her fingers were digging into his flesh. Ertai tried to pry her fingers loose, but even his newly grown muscles were no match for Belbe's enhanced strength.

"I'm not supposed to care what Crovax does so long as it serves the purposes of my masters. His methods are coarse, but he is the strongest candidate for evincar. Why don't I name him to the post and depart? I have the means. I'm not responsible for the people here. Is it because I know in time Crovax will kill every living thing on this world to feed his appetite for destruction?"

Ertai made a fist and hit Belbe as hard as he could on the jaw. Her head snapped back, and for a brief instant he saw the light of rage in her eyes. His heart shrank to a hard ball, and a hollow place opened in the pit of his stomach. Belbe must have seen the expression of fear on Ertai's face, and she abruptly released him. He backed away quickly, rubbing his sorely bruised hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, Ertai."

"I hope I'm not around when you do mean to hurt someone," he said ruefully. His mood quickly changed. "Do you really have a way to leave Rath?"

"Of course. I cannot allow you to go," she said, lowering her feet to the floor.

"Even if it means Crovax kills me?"

"Yes."

Ertai paced up and down. "You know I can't compete with him for the evincar post. Although my knowledge and talent far exceed his, I can't match him in sheer power."

"No one can. Crovax feeds on death. Every time something near him dies, he absorbs the life-force from it, increasing his own power. Combined with his innate lust for destruction, no one will be able to stop him."

"How long have you known this?"

She lowered her head to her knees. "It became clear to me yesterday. I kept trying to determine why his power keeps increasing, despite the mistakes he makes. Then I realized his modifications on Phyrexia were largely neurological, not mechanical. Though he was obviously given muscular and size enhancements, the important changes must have been made on the inside. He still eats food like a normal being of flesh, but it's just a habit he hasn't given up yet. His command of the flow-stone is growing exponentially. It doesn't come from rare cutlets and sour wine. Obviously, he has another source of power.

"Then I realized what was happening-the deaths of so many soldiers in battle fed Crovax enough energy for him to teleport for the first time from the battlefield to the Citadel. Slaughter of the hostages has boosted his power a thousandfold more. Soon he'll be unstoppable. That's why I want to hurt him. I want him to know what it feels like to suffer at another's hands."

For a moment, Ertai forgot about escape. "Why don't you kill him? He'll kill us both if we get in his way."

"I must put the best possible candidate on the throne of Rath."

"Why?" he shouted. The flowstone around him rose in a hundred tiny peaks.

"It's my purpose," she replied hotly. "It's the reason I exist."

"I have a notion for you, Belbe. Exist to be yourself! Loyalty is an admirable trait, but you can't cling to it in the face of certain destruction!"

She stalked across the floor, flattening the flowstone waves with her feet. An inch from his face she stopped.

"This is why you and your kind will fail-you think only of yourselves, your own petty individual concerns above the welfare of your race! My masters will destroy you and anyone else who stands in their way. It's the law of nature that the efficient shall displace the inefficient…"

Ertai carefully lifted her hand and clasped it with his own. "You're the same race as I," he said. "You've no common cause with beings whose sole purpose is to force people like us into slavery."

His touch was firm and warm. Belbe stared at him, at their hands. She dropped Ertai's hand and turned away.

He put his arms around her. Unlike Crovax, his touch was gentle. "Why do you always turn away at the last moment?" he said.

"I cannot do what I imagine."

"Why not? What stops you?"

Belbe shuddered. "I am not alone and never have been. There is a… device in my body which transmits everything I see and do to my masters on Phyrexia."

He turned Belbe to face him. "Where is this device?" She took his hand and pressed the tips of his fingers to her breastbone. He felt the curved surface of the Lens imbedded there.

"Can it be removed?"

"Perhaps on Phyrexia. Not here."

He closed his eyes and probed the Lens with his mind. Touching it, even psychically, was like entering a vast empty well, black and bottomless. There seemed no end to it, as it stretched all the way from Rath to the secret plane of her overlords.

Belbe lowered her head to his shoulder.

Ertai sighed in awe. "That thing could swallow me whole."

"Could you break it, or block it?" she murmured. "At least for a little while?"

"Hmm, maybe. Your masters can't bear the natural lifeforce, right? Perhaps if I send a charge of such energy into this device it will blind them."

He cupped his palms together over the imbedded orb and summoned all the natural magic he could reach on this unnatural world. Belbe felt a buildup of heat in her chest. It didn't burn, but slowly diffused outward through her neck, arms, and abdomen. Ertai removed his hands.

"Did it work?" she asked.

"There's no way to know for certain."

She draped her arms around his neck. "I don't care anymore. I'm tired of being a lens. I want to be alone with you, if only for a while."

After some hours in each other's arms, Ertai was spent and Belbe drained of her stormy emotions. He fell asleep on the chaise. She watched him a while, breathing deeply, his lips just apart. His hair was russet brown now, and next to her pale skin the increasing grayness of his flesh was quite noticeable. He was indeed beginning to resemble a lesser version of Greven il-Vec.

Belbe got up, careful not to disturb her sleeping lover. She was cold, and though she tried to dispel the goose pimples on her arms and legs, she found she couldn't. This puzzled her until she decided it must be due to Ertai's spell. Her Phyrexian systems weren't meant to handle natural magic, and her loss of metabolic control was probably due to the presence of his magical charge in her system. She glanced back at the naked, sleeping Ertai. It was worth it.

She wandered through the empty suite, letting her fingers drift across Volrath's strange artwork. She hadn't touched them before, and she discovered some of the statues had latent flow-stone responses to being touched. Though they looked like stone, when caressed the statues became soft as velvet, supple as leather, and warm to the touch. What a strange person the evin-car must have been, wasting his intimacy on inanimate, though responsive, objects.

In Volrath's bedroom, she paused by the mirror. Her hair was disheveled, her face flushed, and her lips bruised. These were superficial things. Belbe stood closer to the mirror. She traced the line of her face and throat as she had on Volrath's statues. Her skin was cool to the touch, and it didn't change texture as her fingertip passed over it. Why was that? Was she less responsive than flowstone? No one would have said so two hours ago. Now that her passion was spent, was she the same as she was before?

Ertai rolled over, empty arms seeking Belbe. Not finding her, he opened his eyes. Across the chamber, in the shadowed recesses of the ceiling, he saw what looked like a suit of black armor hanging by its feet from the ceiling. The armor moved.

Ertai bolted from the chaise.

"Who is it?" he demanded. He raised his hand. "Come down, or I'll knock you down!"

Lilting laughter was his answer. The intruder dropped from the ceiling, somersaulted, and landed on his feet.

"Crovax!"

"Congratulations, Boy," Crovax said. "Met the emissary on equal terms, have you?"

"How long have you been there?"

"Long enough. Who would've thought the overlords would send us such a spirited representative?" He sauntered over and picked up a piece of Belbe's discarded clothing. Ertai snatched it from his hand.

Crovax laughed. "Now you're going to defend her, as any rustic swain would."

"You're a filthy animal," Ertai said. He was terrified to be found like this by Crovax, his fear compounded by not knowing what Crovax would do to him or Belbe.

"And you're a stupid boy, today's performance not withstanding." Crovax sat down on the same chaise where Ertai and Belbe had made love. "It's a good trick, though, I'll give you that. Seducing the emissary is bound to be good for your candidacy."

"That's not what happened!"

Crovax's dark eyes shone. "Are you going to tell me it's love?"

"I-I don't know."

There was a sharp intake of breath. Both men saw Belbe standing in the doorway. Ertai snatched up the first available garment-his doublet-and hurriedly draped it around her.

"The proper answer was 'yes,'" Crovax said, stretching.

"Shut up!" Ertai said.

Crovax stood, hands falling slowly to his sides. "You're welcome to try and make me, Boy."

"What passed between us was not about human love," Belbe said archly. "I had some curiosity about the practice of copulation, and Ertai was obliging me."

"So I saw. If all you wanted was experience, you could have done better," Crovax said. "I'm always available for Your Excellency's enlightenment."

Ertai started forward, but Belbe stopped him.

"Don't," she said. "He's trying to provoke you. I've seen it before."

Crovax shrugged and sat down again. "Better listen to her, Boy. I can kill you any time I want." He flung out his hand suddenly. Ertai flinched, affording Crovax a hearty laugh. "You're not a total fool. You're smart enough to be afraid of me."

"What do you want, Crovax?" said Belbe.

"I came to tell Your Excellency that order has been restored in the Stronghold cities," he said. "When the army returned, I posted soldiers in every square, tavern, inn, and gathering place in the crater. There'll be no more trouble."

"Good. You may go."

"One thing, Excellency. Since Master Ertai has 'obliged' you, don't you think it prejudices you in the matter of his candidacy?"

"I will choose the new evincar based on total ability, not by military or magical skill-or biological prowess."

Crovax chuckled and made to leave. He'd gone a few steps when Belbe, moving with blinding speed, rushed up behind him. She uttered a short, sharp cry. Crovax whirled, but his fists met only air. Belbe lashed out with her bare foot. It caught him under the right breast and he flew backwards, his cuirass deeply dented from the blow.

"Belbe, don't!" Ertai shouted.

Crovax sprang to his feet, and the flowstone furniture between them coalesced into a solid wall seven feet high and four inches thick. Belbe could not stop her rush in time to avoid slamming into the barrier. Crovax grinned, and the wall slammed Belbe twice more. He was about to smash her against the wall of the Citadel when she leaped over the ponderous bludgeon and landed a kick squarely on Crovax's forehead. Down he went, but the floor boosted him back to his feet. Crovax had a sword, but he didn't draw it. Instead he willed the floor to hold Belbe by the ankles-but he was too slow. She leaped to a nearby pillar made of natural iron-outside Crovax's influence-and clung there by her fingertips and toes, panting.

Crovax shucked off his breastplate, wincing from the blows he'd taken.

"You've made your point, Excellency," he said. "I shouldn't try to bully you. But in the interests of-shall we say, efficiency?-will you set a date at which time you will name the new Evincar of Rath?"

Belbe remained on the pillar, her hair awry, looking like one of Volrath's exotic statues. She drew a deep breath, swallowed, and said, "I will set a date."

"When?"

She glanced at a timepiece on the wall. The Phyrexian numerals dissolved into simplified Rathi ones.

"Two days from now. At midday exactly."

Crovax slung his dented armor over one shoulder and bowed slightly. "I await Your Excellency's wise decision."

When he was gone, Belbe dropped to the floor. Ertai hurried to her, thinking to comfort her. He found her shaking from head to foot.

"It's all right," he said. "He won't hurt you. He dares not, at least until you choose the next evincar."

Belbe wasn't shaking from fear. "That was wonderful!" she declared. "I want to demolish him with my bare hands!"

Ertai dropped his comforting arms. Without another word, he retrieved his discarded clothes and hurriedly dressed. Belbe was so overcome with excitement she didn't even notice him until, half-dressed, he started to leave.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"To the library," he replied coldly. "I've a lot of reading to do. My final examination is in two days, is it not?"

He slammed the ornate flowstone door behind him.

Sergeant Nasser, bathed and attired in a fresh uniform, waited on Crovax's pleasure in the evincar's council room.

"I have my account of the army's march back to the Stronghold, my lord," Nasser said, holding up a slim scroll. When Crovax did not reply, he laid it on the star-shaped table before him.

"Where is Greven il-Vec?" asked Crovax.

"Called away to the airship. Something about an intruder on the east plain."

"I see. Let him chase as many wanderers as he likes. In two days, the overlords' emissary will convene a special assembly. Her purpose is to name the new Evincar of Rath."

"The choice is clear, my lord."

"So you say, but our esteemed emissary is under all sorts of pressures and influences. In such circumstances, she may not make the correct decision. We can't let that happen."

"No, my lord."

"Tomorrow, I want the Corps of Sergeants to return to the Citadel-all of them. Every man is to bring his sword, shield, helmet, and dagger."

"The palace guards won't allow armed troops inside," Nasser protested.

"Then smuggle the arms in! Use your imagination." Crovax glowered. "The ceremony will be at midday two days from now. At midday less two hours I want the Corps of Sergeants to gather in the evincar's antechamber. Arrive in twos and threes-don't come in a body. Be fully armed."

Nasser nodded. He knew what Crovax intended, but part of the price of his complicity was making his new lord and master admit it out loud.

"What do you intend, lord?"

"The succession cannot be left to the whims of a hotblooded girl," Crovax said. He drew his dagger, held it point up for a second, then drove it into the table to the hilt. "Before you and all the sergeants, the emissary will name me evincar or die on the spot. Her paramour, the boy Ertai, will die regardless."

Nasser folded his arms. "It shall be done, my lord."