The Soul Slayer

By E A (Edward) St Amant

The Great Betrayer strikes to enslave the Proudhon on Troan. The Soul Slayer will try to seduce the Proudhon with pleasure and gifts, including a celestial virgin and a masterful slave. In the third book, the Proudhon surrenders to the Heart Harrower’s forces on Nuway, a planet with a punishing gravity to the Races. In the fourth, the Proudhon is taken to the secret society of Burydane on Edede, a planet in the Purze Sun System far from the Circle Cluster. In the fifth, the Proudhon acquires work in the Ministry of Essential Duty on Centre planet in the CentreRule administration. The decisive struggle takes place in the sixth and final book on Centre, in Photon Rain Forest, under the Huntuu Gilian Tree.

A stunning and gripping epic. By book three, I was so enthralled, I couldn’t wait to finish reading to the end of book six to follow the future of the characters and the outcome of the story. Strongly built characters with whom the reader will interact; there are some you cheer for and some you want to see get their comeuppance. I purchased this rather intimidating looking six book series with a healthy dose of skepticism. Since then I’ve been converted. Beautiful. It starts as a chase story and like a snowball rolling downhill gathers everything into itself faster and faster until it crashes into the Beginning One himself. A masterpiece a great epic with good characterization, a well developed universe and lots of action.

• Language: English
• Publisher: E A (Edward) St Amant
• Release date: Jun 28, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452321417

E A (Edward) St Amant

E A St Amant is the author of How to Increase the Volume of the Sea Without Water, Dancing in the Costa Rican Rain and Stealing Flowers.https://www.minds.com/edwardatedstamant/https://tededwardstamant.substack.com/

Book preview

Book II

The Soul Slayer

Published by E A St Amant at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition August 2011

Verses and poems within, by author

Web and Cover design by: Edward Oliver Zucca

Web Developed by: Adam D’Alessandro

eimpressions Toronto Canada

Copyrighted by E A St Amant May 2006

Author Contact: [e-mail]

E A St Amant.com Publishers

www.eastamant.com

All rights reserved. No part of this novel may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, emailing, ebooking, by voice recordings, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author or his agent. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, companies, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances whatsoever to any real actual events or locales in persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The Circle Cluster, Book II, The Soul Slayer = ISBN -13: 978-0-9780119-1-8; Digital ISBN: 978-1-4523-2141-7. Thanks to the many people who did editorial work on this project and offered their many kind suggestions, including Dr. Phil Miller, T R St Amant and Susan Alsbury. This series would not have been possible without all the long hours of work by Val Gee.

By Edward A St Amant

How to Increase the Volume of the Sea Without Water

Dancing in the Costa Rican Rain

Stealing Flowers

Spiritual Apathy

Restrictions

Book of Mirrors

Perfect Zen

Five Days of Eternity

Five Years After

Five Hundred Years Without Faith

Fog Walker

Murder at Summerset

This Is Not a Reflection of You

The Theory of Black Holes (Collected Poems)

The Circle Cluster, Book I, The Great Betrayer

The Circle Cluster, Book III, The Heart Harrower

The Circle Cluster, Book IV, The Aristes

The Circle Cluster, Book V, CentreRule

The Circle Cluster, Book VI, The Beginning One

Non-Fiction

Atheism, Scepticism and Philosophy

Articles in Dissident Philosophy

The New Ancien Régime

By E O Zucca and E A St Amant

Molecular Structures of Jade

Instant Sober

Living Animal

Chapter 1

The Familiar startled Arck out of sleep and he sat up in bed bewildered, then he remembered being lost inside the Taja disc for weeks and only being able to find his way out by following the purple light of the larkspur. He’d ended up inside the intimate thoughts of Strom and realized that she no longer loved him–she would become a Freeguard Witch and find intimate love with only other women.

What light existed in the room was muted–the brettiscreens were off. He tried to remember the old Mockingbird. The Familiar’s red color was transformed–it now radiated a silver color. He hoped the battle of Barkel Mountain might have been a figment of his imagination. He glanced around the room and recognized where he was. It was Taff’s bedroom aboard Coldfire’s largest ceptor. He could tell they were still on the surface of Lorlett–the battle had been all too real. As he remembered, disappointments followed one after the other.

A portrait of the founder of the Freeguard, hung on the wall to his right, but it wasn’t clear in the low light. On the opposite wall, near the door, hung a satellite photograph of Goldage, Quarles, showing a planet mostly covered in clouds. He touched the Taja Noloyd on his chest. If he must fight and defeat the Overseer to end this nightmare, then fight he would. His goal would become to destroy the ruling regime–the Beginning One Himself. However, the logical consequence of this was that to do it he must capture the Soul Slayer and the Heart Harrower’s Mij-Noloyds. This frightened him more than he dare think about right now. He rose and was a little startled to see Strom standing quietly in a darkened corner of the room, surreptitiously watching him–her shining eyes gave him a fright.

Fern’s power was somehow passed onto you and the Mockingbird, he said softly, covering his mid-section with only his hand. She didn’t respond. How long have I been sleeping? he asked.

Your whole life.

He ignored her unkind words. He saw that her dress was a version of what Fern had always wore–couched in grey and black colors. Grey jumped to the bed behind him. Her protrusive head, and silky, almost glowing, fur gave the dual impression of danger and intelligence. He reached over with his other hand and petted her distractedly. His mind zoomed in and out of the waking world as he dressed. His hair was thoroughly disheveled and he tried to straighten it out. For a third time in a few minutes, the door opened again. Word is spreading fast of my return to the nightmare, he whispered to himself.

I feel relieved and so should you, Grey mindsaid by way of criticism–she’d been within earshot. It was a hard long effort to bring you back. I’ve left you undisturbed for two whole days.

Arck frowned, but was content to see Tob and Taff when they came in. Tob was dressed in a version of the Freeguard uniform. The Wizard’s hair had grown in and it was thrown back now from his receding hair line, but he looked younger than before, although as always, his look was that of a genius, exceedingly tall, thin, and inspired. Taff turned on the brettiscreens to let in the suns of Lorlett and bright light invaded the room. How do you feel? Taff asked, automatically taking Arck’s pulse, then injecting him with what Arck took to be a vitamin serum or enzyme multiplier.

My head is killing me, he whispered. He squinted. Tob, lower the bretts, please.

Taff poured Arck a glass of water and then took his blood pressure. Tob switched off one of the brettiscreens. What happened? Arck asked.

You were trapped inside the Taja Noloyd, Taff answered, and since, have slept for days. You must be starved. We have moved the ceptor to the northeast chain of the mountains, but I’m not sure we are completely safe. Each of Coldfire’s three ceptors which I have on Lorlett’s surface continues to hide separately, but fuel and supplies are getting low.

But why are we still on Lorlett?

The Soul Slayer’s pulsar ships orbit the planet and search the Milroy System for Coldfire.

We’re trapped? he asked with a whisper.

It happened even while we defeated Dread, Taff said. Fern was killed, I was wounded, and Grey and Staff were distracted with their new discs. The Soul Slayer chose then to attack.

Arck remembered several dreams of the last few days foretelling of his capture by the Soul Slayer and his following doom–dreams provoked, or brought on by Aarona Raker and the Taja Noloyd–but of these, he said nothing to either Grey or Taff; how else could he defeat the Soul Slayer but to go with the opportunities that this nightmare would give him?

We hope to be extracted on LotusEater tomorrow, Grey mindsaid.

Strom stepped up and hugged him. Surprised at that, he blushed, then went to the washroom and bathed. Afterwards, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. His jaw had a stern, more masculine quality now, but around the eyes, he thought he still had a soft unemphatic aspect. However, his beardless androgynous appearance was now offset by his mouth, which gave the effect of both strength and madness.

He dressed and walked directly to the kitchen. He saw the newest flowerholders on his way. Durakerk was dressed in loose traditional clothing and weapons bulged out here and there through his exceptional grey cloop-cloak. A great black baliwax sword–the fighting sword of the Spurl–was strapped to his back, but he carried it in such a way that it seemed to bring him no discomfort.

Hornblende looked both nearly naked and fully clothed at once, just as Arck had seen Lord Starstat on Soulhawk the first time that he had met him. Belts carrying many weapons covered his body. Black Guild fighters dressed in this provocative way to be openly show disrespect to the Chrisarmain Noutrus male dress-code–it was their particular form of protest.

I need a small lunch that we can take with us on a walk, he said to Jissy–he could see that she had been expecting him.

Her large chest rose and fell with her breath, readying, he saw, to dissuade him and make him eat a full meal. He watched her soft round Tutan face, and sympathetic, almost pitying eyes, then his gaze went to her mate, the man everyone called the Chef, his name was Dol. He shrugged as though to say he could do nothing with her.

He imagined that Taff had told them to beef him up. They were bound and determine. He reached over and rubbed Jissy’s shoulder, then ate what they placed before him without complaint. He left and soon found Tob and Strom. They applied sun-block to each other and put on darkly tinted eye-goggles, then slid outside the ceptor. Arck felt Mockingbird nearby–he could also feel the wisteria, but could see neither. He held hands with Strom and felt the brilliant suns of Lorlett with its all embracing heat and light.

After a moment, Taff joined them and they soon had reached a landmark boulder; a scenic inviting lake was a hundred paces away. Insects swarmed in fabulous clouds well above it, but were held at bay by an electric warding device, an ozone-bubble. Arck had seen few birds on Lorlett–he’d been hoping to spot the grand water-bird, Blue Coolols. He had heard of them from Durakerk. They were supposed to be twice the size as the Troanean bird, lypters.

Arck looked up at the sky through the dark protective goggles. The multiple suns still stung him with a feeling of alienation.

When they reached the lake, he stripped with the others and followed Tob and Strom’s example and lathered up again with thick slick cream. He stretched out on a towel under a leeward-leaning tree on the warm rocks by the water’s edge.

Troopers were guarding them some hundreds of paces away. They were at the front and back and he saw them as well on the other side of the lake.

During the afternoon, Arck swam for short periods with Tob and Strom. All day, he tried to ignore Strom’s naked beauty. She was truly stunning and he had to stay in the freezing water an extra long time to keep his blood calm.

––

In a great prairie field not so far away, the Slayer’s huge camp bustled with incoming and outgoing craft, sometimes even ceptors themselves would leave or arrive. Each of the ships of her pulsar ship fleet now in the Milroy Star System was represented on the ground by corresponding ceptors, and so were her two brothers’ personal pulsar ships. The Soul Slayer’s ceptor, one of the largest of the lot, was encircled by more than thirty-five others.

A tall broadly-built Black-Cloaked Grey Spurl of the SpurlusNoutrus Palace Guard–the elite of the Slayer’s military arm–faced her. She wore the insignia of Order and had military emblems of ten inverted chevrons–assistant to the Ground Chief.

The Slayer glanced over at her with impatience.

I want to be clear, the Slayer said in a surprisingly steady voice that needed no volume to assert its dominance. It’s imperative that you understand, so that no one needs to be punished later. The whole planet must be monitored continually, but without being detected. A network of satellites and stratospheric aircraft must run constant surveillance. She looked to her security monitors. I must know at all times where he is.

She bowed. My Lady, she said softly, Bandor is ready.

The Slayer nodded and she left.

Security brett, the Slayer said, screen one! For a moment, she watched the new screen. He has arrived with ten ceptors, she said as though to herself. She could see that Bandor had brought an army. He’s a smart one, that Vilemarc, she said softly. Eft must have personally trained him.

She sat and waited for Bandor to arrive. When he stepped into her office, he bowed, wearing Eft’s bright red colors. He stood out among the Vilemarcs with his rippling muscular build and loveless but intelligent yellow eyes, but his most striking feature was how tall he was, and how severe he looked. He was a most haunting imposing figure.

You have served us well, Bandor, the Soul Slayer said. You have less a need to fear me than my brother. Is your conscience guilty? Why else do you bring so many troops?

He sat then before her as she had beckoned him to do with a wave of her hand.

I obey without question, he responded, his voice without emotion. But your brother’s volatile nature has taught me caution with the immortal powers, Milady.

You are concerned for your own safety, she said, good enough. I have located the Proudhon. You must go to him–go even today. You must, with great cunning, with the true resourcefulness of which I know you are capable, talk to him in private and convince him of our genuine desire to return his surrogate mother and sisters safely into the hands of his so-called benefactors. I will instruct you today on how this is to be done. If what I will show you, doesn’t convince the Proudhon, and I’ve misjudged him completely, his family will die before you return.

––

Taff and Durakerk were alone in Taff’s office aboard his ceptor. The office was dark to a single desk light and the brettiscreens, those few which were on, showed that evening in the Southern Hemisphere of Lorlett was well on its way. Taff wore a striking uniform, black and gold, constructed in one piece, and bound at the waist by a gold chain which held a pointed nakus-dagger, like the one Reed had worn. He also wore an insignia, his own crest–a naked female and male Hittitean facing each other with their arms reaching upward into the air.

Durakerk wore a large bright-blue cloop-cloak, which covered not only his broadly-built and muscular frame, but hid also his samaweapons. His long hair was pulled-back and his smooth, and velvety-gray skin radiated health. He had vibrant intelligent eyes, with irises a darker shade of the same color. On Lorlett, the distinction between the Maullers and the Vilemarcs was the most noticeable. Taff sat back and thoughtfully rested his index finger on his lips. He studied satellite photographs of Lorlett’s land masses.

The Slayer didn’t come to war with us, he whispered and flicked a switch on his console. She has come to negotiate with Arck. That’s why her fleet is so active. They’re trying to prevent the appearance of Coldfire. While we are boxed in on Lorlett, she has a captured audience for whatever private deal she might try to negotiate, whatever that may be.

For a moment, Durakerk adjusted one of his weapons so that he would be more comfortable. Staff thinks that Grey has two Pulsarites standing by.

Taff sat up in his chair. Is that a fact?–Damn that creature! In a moment, he leaned back in his chair and calmed himself. The Slayer would have certainly detected the sama activity that we had used to bring the Proudhon back from the noloyd, Taff said. I’m in trouble and Grey is out to obstruct me in front of Arck. She will come in, sweep us away at the last minute, and win Arck over. I believe she will do anything to discredit me in his eyes.

She’s nervous herself, Durakerk said after a moment.

We can’t afford to let Arck out of our sights, Taff responded. The Slayer may have already discovered our location. I know that Sphange will somehow try to contact him, and moreover, I feel that Arck might even contemplate any offer the Slayer may give in exchange for the freedom of Larska, Di, and Pom. His guilt in regards to his Troanean family knows no bounds.

Durakerk shook his head to disagree. Even though millions of lives hung in the balance? Even though the whole future of the Races would be in jeopardy? I can’t imagine.

The door panel pinged and Ruby Obiss stepped into Taff’s office. She was in Freeguard colors and her crests showed her not only as Taff’s stō, but also his high-lieutenant of Coldfire, which was where Taff would have preferred to be.

You paged, sir? she asked in her fierce direct manner.

Where is Jissy? Taff returned.

It’s my shift, Captain, she answered.

Is someone watching Arck?

I’ll check.

Will you have Greywheter come by? Taff said. And ask Staff to stay with the Proudhon until further notice. She nodded and left. No one has attacked us, Durakerk. No one has found us. They are up to something.

Durakerk shrugged. Often, our enemies are relatively incompetent.

She has Fakirs like Boormun though, Taff said, and Tewks, Hanrahans, Bondzmen, and a Thurgist. Now that I have said it, I’ve realized that indeed, she knows where we are. She knows our weakness and she’ll send her most trusted lieutenant, yet one who does not fear her. She will offer Arck the world, and something else, a perfect female lover. Moreover, I will bet Grey knows how long she has been on Lorlett, where she presently is, and who’ll come in her stead.

We should put up in orbit and look out for Coldfire ourselves.

Consider the danger in that choice. We are low on supplies. Even now we are nearly living off the land. In the unlikely chance that one of her many pulsar ships spotted us, we would be un-defendable targets.

Taff scratched his chin; then rose and stepped over to a mirror. I forgot to shave today. He laughed. Between Grey and your mother, I am totally preoccupied, but I have a good hunch on what to do.

Grey entered the room, looked carelessly at the two of them with her huge bold eyes, and sat on her antediluvian hunches in front of them without saying a word, her oblong head perhaps tilted slightly to one side. Taff moved back to his desk and sat. Almost tangible acrimony passed between them.

We must move again, Taff said, or put up in orbit and search ourselves for Coldfire?

Grey did not move a muscle of her body until she spoke. That is good, she said aloud. Let us lift off at once. LotusEater is now within range.

The Slayer knows our present location? Taff asked further.

Avamrate, Bandor’s pulsar ship, has been in the system before any of the fleet–before even LotusEater, Grey said. Yesterday ten of his ceptors landed near Byzezl forest. I believe it’s where the Soul Slayer is camping. I detected a massive phlofusion-shield near there. It is nearly the size of a Pulsarite.

Taff pushed himself away from the desk, hiding his anger, and rose. Is that why you agree that we should leave even now? With a flick of her eyelids, she let Taff know this was indeed the case. Why have you waited? he asked further, expecting no answer.

Your tone is offensive, she said. I am a humble servant of the Grey Cabal and wait in line like everyone else.

Always the secret cabal which everyone knows you lead and to which you will not admit leading.

Grey turned, and without even the smallest courtesy, left the room. When the Captain and Durakerk were alone again, Taff shook his head, and paced in front of his desk.

Why not inform us, you four-legged provocateur, instead, we must play these mind-boggling games–it is her own agenda, that’s all that counts. The damned Grey Cabal. She should be punished for what she has done to Arck.

––

At that exact moment, Strom was standing on a boulder at the bank of the tarn and looked out on the smooth glassy surface with Mockingbird on her wrist. She was fully dressed, just as Arck was still naked. He wanted her badly and the night was warm and pleasing. He had cursed her when she’d dressed. He was the Freeguard leader and had defeated the Great Betrayer, why should he not have the woman he loved?

Your silhouette is fabulous in this light, he said greedily, you’re beautiful. He reached over and kissed her, but she tensed and pulled away. If there was someway that I could convince you of my feelings, he whispered.

I don’t think you understand.

You could love me if you ignored my faults.

She laughed softly and lightly touched his face. You’ll never be in want of enough rope to hang yourself, she whispered kindly. You said on Troan I could choose freely–I chose this. I want to be a Witch like Fern and Sheila.

I didn’t mean it. I would have told a million lies to have you.

You should have tried the truth.

Truth is ever in the hands of tyranny, he said, quoting Grey. Lies are for those who are afraid to lose its beauty. You must forgive me. There is no other but you. You are the truth for me.

You don’t understand. I love you still, but what you did was against my will. He knew it was true. Can you steal someone’s heart though? He had thought so, but apparently it wasn’t true. You will never understand I suppose, she continued softly. You have closed a door for which there is no key to open again. It is like the enemy. You are beset on all sides by your false selves and I could not enter your heart as I am now, just as you couldn’t have me on my own terms.

I would give anything for your love, he retorted hotly, but what bothers you most is that you did not choose, but were chosen. You did not enjoy, but were made to enjoy. You throw away a gift because you don’t like the wrapping.

She stepped away and Arck let her go without protest. Her words burn through his brain and he forgave her look of pity for the last time.

He would no longer love her that way–he’d find a new lover. He had caused Strom enough pain. He would try to love her as a sister now. He had gambled to win her heart and had lost.

He dove into the tarn and let the cold water wash away the anger.

When he surfaced, whorls of water all throughout the small lake seemed to ripple. An aura of light blue-actiniform surrounded him so that he looked like a ghost. He sat naked on a cool rock which jutted out of the surface. The air caressed him. He felt naked on the rough stone, which of course he was, but still the air was warm, and heartbroken or not, he was sexual and agitated. The Taja disc swung from his neck and Reed’s nakus-falchion was strapped to his leg with a sheath whom the fierce, blond-haired Freeguard warrior, Deng Frest, had given to him earlier.

He remembered seeing her in a dream which had been shaped by Aarona Raker, but he still had not learned Deng’s title within Taff’s organization. He knew that although outward she was known as a celebrated bewa-warrior, that the reality was something secret. He swam across the tarn and say in the water just off the flat rocks on the opposite shore.

The cloud of bugs above the ozone-bubble was much less. He saw Grey and Staff peering out from the ledge on the other side and he came out of the water, laying on the flat slate, ignoring them.

In the crepuscular twilight, he shifted between two dimensions that were of equal exactitude and force: the willful waking world and the lavish lotus-land of DreamWorld–he melded in-and-out on consciousness and the warm still air wouldn’t cool his hot blood. The starlight came upon him out of the radiant sky, and in his mind, magnificent devices of the grandeur universe rotated like a well-wound clock; then, samasense flooded through his being.

Danger! Danger! flashed through his mind.

He jumped to his feet and could feel Aarona Raker in the frontal lobes of his brain, focusing his attention to notice some creature with deadly stealth approaching slowly to his position.

Without warning, his actiniform radiated a bright burning blue. Across the lake, there was a yelp of shock from Grey and he heard a splash and additional movements from the other side. The Freeguard fighters scrambled too. From Taff’s ceptor, an alarm sounded.

Surprised by his own calm, he peered to the left and right. He couldn’t see anything, but anxiety was snapping at his heels–he felt exposed and wished he wasn’t naked. Then a shadow fell upon him from behind. He spun around. He saw a huge grey shape, cloaked in grey and black with the symbol of CentreRule–the large oval encircling two rings, and the Betrayer’s crest, the embossed cross intersected with baliwax-sword. He stuck out alone among the Vilemarcs with his rippling muscular build and his loveless shining yellow eyes, but his most discernable feature was how terribly warlike he looked. He was much taller than most Vilemarcs; a haunting figure; much larger than even Durakerk.

I am Bandor, the shape whispered, his voice carrying the sound of a cold hollow utterance, and I come from the Grey Sister. He took a step forward. He also wore dark clipper shields, and he looked to Arck, as though a haunted and possessed Mauller. You must follow me or the rest of your family will die, he continued. You know that we have them–two sisters and your surrogate mother. Their eyes met. Arck saw that Bandor’s were loveless–cruel. Come, Young Lord, there will be no further negotiation. Their safety will be jeopardized if you hesitate.

With that said, Bandor flung out his hands and threw objects in Arck’s direction.

What’s this? Arck said and bent to pick up Larska’s bright green and black Betty Beetle Bug. All the way from Troan, he whispered.

What would happen to Troan now? Then he sighted Pom’s necklace and saw its engravement, ‘To Pom Rovich - Love Arck.’ Then he picked up a dirty cotton-shirt which read, ‘Di Bolkant’ over a yellow, faded smile.

In the blue light, his heart sank and bitterness swelled up as he looked on a replica of a be-ringed finger attached to a golden emblem of the sickle-quartered-moon. He realized that it was the carbonized finger of Tilly Croft.

How could you?

You know I speak the truth, Bandor said, seeing that Arck had picked up all the objects he’d thrown, You must hurry or they die. Believe me, either way, the High Priestess will have what she will have. Follow me if you chose for them to live.

Bandor turned and left. Arck was naked, confused, and still un-recovered from weeks of physical hibernation while his mind was entangled inside the one disc–he hadn’t yet mastered the Taja-Noloyd, yet he acted at once. Di, Larska, and Pom’s fate hung in the balance; he saw their faces in his mind’s eye and the retreating shadow moving quickly from him. He would act even though he knew it would cost his life. Courage and duty came at him with an equal stead. He gathered up the carbonized finger, the toy, and the necklace, and put them into Diana’s faded shirt and followed Bandor. However, they walked no more then ten paces when Grey drew upon their path. She radiated her brilliant white light into Arck’s mind. She was in fierce white-fire actiniform; Arck sensed the power of the Tij-Noloyd and saw it spinning just above her. He realized that she was ready to cut Bandor to pieces.

I had guessed that the Slayer would send a toady, she said aloud with a hissing sound, but I couldn’t imagine they would dig so low to petition one so high. Your skill in annujet won’t save you here, Bandor. Put them away before I destroy you where you stand.

The High-Priestess knows that the Druid will stand in your way, Bandor said with a bow toward the Proudhon. The Druid, like the Master, Eft himself, or Sphange, isn’t concerned for your beloved ones, only you. If you don’t follow me, no other will return, whether the Druid should kill me, then the Priestess will slay the captured Wizard Kryce Mane and the SelmaKeatra Captain, Tilly Croft in my stead. Only one choice exists: life or death for your siblings. Choose, before the others join the Druid and no decision is left to you.

I know of what you say, Arck whispered. I will come.

He saw Grey look up at Bandor full of hate.

Now you must decide, Anarchist, Bandor said softly to Grey with a hollow smile and stepped away as though to leave. Grey sent white fiery strands of low light in front of Bandor’s path and he had to stop. If you refused his will, Bandor continued, and the three are killed, you won’t be able to blame it on Taff Hart.

We will come, Grey said, sounding defeated.

Bandor turned to lead the way.

Arck could see that Grey was trying to delay and went ahead quickly. They strove on the path through great tree trunks that were covered with what looked like black and amber fungi and vines of foul-smelling parasites. He looked up, and in the dark, could see the treetops shaking.

Grey, I know you can hide our tracks from Freeguard detection, he said, submitting himself to his rash decision, do so at once.

He felt her weaving sama-wards, and after an hour, his sense of Taff lessened, and for a time while they walked, a heavy-hearted numbness overcame him.

Chapter 2

When the suns rose in the sky, they were so bright that they could hardly be distinguished from each other–they seemed to come at Arck as one huge brilliant mass. He had no sense of how far they had walked, nor of how long they had been at it. His blue actiniform was faint and he was still naked.

Grey was walking beside him.

They came along stone-filled landscape and there were vast fields of rock for as far as he could see in front of them. He looked down at the little cloth bundle in his right hand. The items which Bandor had thrown at him were still in Di’s old shirt-top.

He was thinking of a verdi-plate which Taff had given him, The Silver Sky Sweeps By, by Zor Wing. He remembered an article in it, Necessity is Law Obeyed, Will is the Creation of Law. It seemed to apply in this case: out of necessity, out of an act of will, he was obeying and thus creating the law.

Looking back, he could see that they were well out of Northern Barkel Forest and well away from the mountain. He stopped to scratch and sat down heavily on a defunct tree trunk in the middle of nowhere. The sweat was rolling off his skin and he was itchy all over.

Bandor looked back with annoyance. The tall gray-faced Vilemarc didn’t look as bad as Arck had at first judged last night. His muscular build made him seem invulnerable–he was certainly the tallest Vilemarc he had ever seen.

The barren rocky land rolled downward, ending in a horizon of haze, and was dotted by tufts of wind-beaten grasses. The haze was half caused by the hoards of insects rising in the morning from the ground–the land seemed desolate and inhospitable, but not to the insects.

Why are we walking? Arck asked. It is absurd. Isn’t transportation available?

Soon we will be out of the sun, Bandor said in a choleric voice. If you wish, I will carry you.

Arck shuddered at the thought of it and rose disgruntled. They continued, but now, Arck came up beside Bandor and finally caught his stride.

I wish to know one thing, he said, are my sisters safe?

A cruel grin came to Bandor’s lips.

You will see, he said, soon. We are close to Byzezl Forest.

Bandor turned away totally disinterested in continuing in any conversation. His pace became quicker.

In an hour’s time, Arck saw the first trees of an impending forest. They were lone giants surrounded by an oasis of grass. They leaned to the wind, grappling with swarms of internecine parasites tangled by sucking vines and huge chunks of ugly black growth.

Bandor stopped for a moment, and under a clump of yellow grass, soon rolled back a tarpaulin and uncovered a small boat-like craft which had no wheels and was called an ur-tovail-aircraft. It gleamed in shiny red with black emblems which had raised intersected baliwax swords embossed over a cross–the Betrayer’s insignia.

Was he falling into the hands of the Betrayer or the Slayer? Certainly the Betrayer would kill him?

Arck sat with Grey in the back. Bandor spoke into a device and without any further prompting, the craft rose and they flew above the huge mutant trees at an incredible speed. Arck grew fascinated by the forest’s balance of beauty and