Last Battle of the Icemark (46 page)

Thirrin stood and reached for her sword, but before she could draw it, Oskan stirred. “No. Please sit with me quietly and wait.”

She scrambled back to her husband. “Oskan! You're still alive. Quickly, do something, save yourself . . . carry out some magic . . . stop dying!”

He opened his eyes and smiled sadly. “I'm afraid my ever-loving father's right. I'm too badly damaged. Nothing can save me now.”

“Well, what about the cave beneath the citadel?” Thirrin asked desperately. “You've regenerated before. Surely you can be saved again?”

“The Goddess has allowed me to return from death twice,” he said weakly. “That's quite unprecedented, you know. But now I've fulfilled the last of my life's tasks and I must return to Her.”

Cronus laughed. “How gloriously loyal you are to this impotent deity, my son! I find it amazing that you still talk of Her with respect even though She did nothing to save you.”

“The choice to die was my own,” said Oskan quietly. “I could have opened myself to the Darkness completely, and had enough power to defeat you many times over. But if I had, I would have become supremely evil. I would have been the very essence of everything negative, and so would have lost
my right to the Spirit World and the Summer Lands.”

“And now you're dying,” said Medea. “What have you achieved? The world will now fall to myself and Cronus, and all you have loved will languish in torment forever. And, please, don't think we'll ever let Mother or the family die; they'll be maintained in an existence of pure agony for all eternity.”

“No . . . Medea, you're wrong. You see, you're dying too. In fact, you'll be dead before me.”

“I admire your bravado,” said Cronus contemptuously.

Oskan frowned. “You really don't understand, do you? Your emotions have destroyed you as well.”

“What sick madness are you spouting . . .?”

“I really am truly sorry,” he said. “But perhaps the compassionate Goddess may find the ability somewhere to forgive you and you'll be spared oblivion. I can't quite believe it myself, but, then again, I'm only a mere mortal, and fallible.” He paused, then went on. “Ah, it's beginning.”

“What is?” asked Medea in confusion.

“Your death.”

Instinctively both Cronus and his granddaughter glanced down at themselves and gasped. Their psychically conjured bodies were dissolving from the feet up. “Oh, really, how annoying,” said Cronus. “We've obviously used too much energy in the battle. Never mind, we'll soon be able to carry out repairs when we've rested.”

“No. I'm afraid not,” said Oskan. “You're beings of pure energy, and that energy is now being negated. You see, you have contravened one of the universal Laws of Magic that you were never allowed to know. The Evil Ones, who defied the Goddess and fell into the darkness, murder themselves if they
murder those they love. This was the weapon of knowledge I was given to use against you. That is the Power of the Law; if it was a secret, then no Adept could take steps to avoid the consequences of breaking it. I suppose it was the Goddess's way of slowly reducing your numbers over the aeons. She knew most evil Adepts are murderous – particularly towards their own families, for some reason – and if they die as a result of killing their own, then the world enjoys the benefit of getting rid of two evil ones at a time. And both of you
have
killed one you love – namely me – and now you're both paying the appointed cost. Dissolution.”

“NO!!!” Cronus screamed. “I am unsullied, pure in my evil!”

“I'm afraid you're not,” said Oskan lightly. “You see, during our battle I've been allowed to learn that none of us have the power to create pure evil; there's always a spark of love. That's the way of the Goddess.”

“Quickly, Granddaughter, join with me again; together we'll be strong enough to fight this off.”

Once again the black swirling void appeared as the two Adepts pooled their powers in a magical conjunction, and for a time they seemed to burgeon and grow in power. But then, slowly, they began to fade. Hideous screeches and howls emerged from the void as they fought for existence, but eventually these too started to fade, until only the smallest whisper could be heard.

Then at last all fell silent, until one final pleading word whispered into the world: “Father!”

The sound froze to black ice crystals and fell with a discordant tinkle to the floor, where slowly it melted away.

Oskan sighed, but before he could say anything else the sound of a booted foot on the spiral staircase drew his and Thirrin's attention, and they waited until Cressida burst into the remains of the room. She skidded to a halt when she saw her father and mother, and after one look at Oskan's face, silent tears began to course down her face.

Thirrin now fell to her knees before Oskan, and he opened his eyes. “On your feet, Thirrin of the Icemark! My Queen kneels to no one!”

“But I do to love,” she replied.

Her husband smiled. “Oh, that's all right, then. We all kneel to love.”

His eyes were then drawn to the far side of the room, and as they all watched, a small coalescence of light gradually evolved into a large, friendly-looking grey cat. “Ah, Grimalkin,” Oskan said warmly. “You've been sent for me. Then it's time to go.”

Thirrin and Cressida both knew that witches and Warlocks were guided home to the Summer Lands by the Goddess's cat, and they hugged each other for comfort.

“Daddy,” Cressida whispered.

Oskan turned his eyes to look at his daughter. “Oh, my powerful young Queen. You will rule countries and dynasties, and though you will live with your sword forever in your hand, it will never be used to oppress or control. Only love and respect will draw the world to your feet, and you will be crowned before all as the Queen of Wisdom, as the Queen of Compassion.”

He smiled, then turned to Thirrin. “And you, my flame-haired warrior. What years you have yet to live! You will become the grandmother of nations, and when the fire of your
hair becomes the silver of moonlight, look for me, and I'll come to you then and we can walk in the meadows of the Summer Lands.”

“But I'll be in Valhalla,” she said, her voice breaking in fear that they would never meet again.

“Oh, my love. Have you still not learned that all Deities are one under the benevolence of the Goddess, and that all heavens are flowers in her infinite garden?”

Grimalkin then meowed. “I must go now, but remember, nothing but the mere facts of time and death separate us. Soon we'll be together again.” Oskan then stepped from his broken body, and followed the cat as he walked towards a slowly opening portal in the fabric of the physical world. But before stepping through, he turned and smiled. “When your hair becomes the silver of moonlight.”

Then he stepped into the portal, and Thirrin and Cressida watched as he walked towards the figure of a beautiful woman. She was dressed in a flowing robe that seemed to be made of all the flowers and trees and growing things of the world. And all around her were the living souls of her children; every living species there was, had been and would ever be. And as they watched, she smiled at them, her beautiful face as dignified as the most stately queen and as merry as the happiest young maiden. And as Oskan reached her, she enfolded him in a loving embrace, and kissed him like the Mother she was.

C
HAPTER
31

S
o came the time of funerals and weddings. Oskan's broken body was cremated on a towering pyre that rose out of the Plain of Frostmarris like a mountain of wood. Within its huge conical structure were built several staircases, so that the werewolves and housecarles who were constructing it could climb to greater and greater heights as they piled massive bundles of wood towards the sky. Then at last, when it was complete, the broad platform at its very peak was draped in purple and white, and the flag of the Icemark was unfurled, showing a fighting white bear on a blue background.

Then, winding down from the citadel of Frostmarris, came the cortège, led by Thirrin, on foot and fully armoured but for her helmet. And on her belt, her scabbard was empty of all weapons, and neither did she carry a shield. Beside her walked Cressida, Sharley and Eodred, and behind came Tharaman, Krisafitsa and Grishmak. The people of the Icemark lined the streets of Frostmarris and spilled out onto the plain surrounding the city, like a many-headed sea, all intent on witnessing the passing of the Witchfather, and they gasped aloud at the spectacle of the escorting warriors carrying the bier on which
lay Oskan's body. Werewolves and housecarles, Hypolitans and Snow Leopards, Vampires and Polypontians, and even soldiers of the Holly and Oak Kings all helped to bear the body of the Warlock who had saved the world from destruction.

Out onto the plain wound the long procession, and the only sound that arose from that huge company was the steady
tramp, tramp, tramp
of disciplined feet. Then, as they reached the pyre, selected warriors from each of the Allied species carried the bier up the internal stairways to eventually emerge on the platform at the apex of the huge mound. Now the bier, with its precious cargo of coffin and body, was placed gently at the very centre, and as the bearers withdrew, the huge Solstice Bell that hung above the South Gate of the city began to toll, its sonorous voice booming over the plain and echoing from the eaves of the Great Forest.

Then, when all had emerged from the stairways and withdrawn to a safe distance, Thirrin was handed a longbow, and she shot a flaming arrow in a high arc that landed deep within the oil-soaked wood of the pyre. Immediately flames leaped up, and on a signal from their officers, rank upon rank of Hypolitan archers sent a barrage of blazing arrows to land at all points within the pyre, and soon a huge conflagration roared into the sky, destroying the body that had housed the indestructible spirit of Oskan Witchfather.

For many hours the flames raged, turning the encroaching night to day. But then, at last, when the fires had died to white ash, Oskan's bones were taken and laid in the cave, deep in the Great Forest, where Thirrin had first met him so many years before. Then Tharaman-Thar and Krisafitsa-Tharina broke down the entrance until it was blocked forever with
fallen rock, and a Holly soldier and an Oak soldier began the vigil that would continue until the last tree had fallen.

And so the people were scattered to their various homes. The Snow Leopards travelled back to the Icesheets; Cressida travelled south to the Polypontus, where she became the Regent to the Emperor Titus along with Leonidas and Andronicus.

Thirrin sat on her lonely throne, comforted by Sharley, Mekhmet, and King Grishmak, whose people stayed forever in the Icemark, living side by side with their human friends. The Vampire Queen, too, returned to the Blood Palace, where she ruled the shadows in splendour, remembering the strange vampire bat that had appeared in the battle leading the ghosts against the Ice Demons. She was almost certain she'd recognised his form, but dared not allow herself the comfort of the thought that His Vampiric Majesty still existed in the Spirit Worlds.

But then one night, as the dark shadows of the empty Throne Room stood in textured crowds around her, she heard a step echo across the floor.

“Who's there?” she called. But no one answered and, standing, she stared into the dark. Being Undead, the night held few fears for her, but she was curious, and she called again. “Who's there?”

This time she was answered by the regular beat of a footfall, and she waited until a tall shadowy figure came into view. “Who are you?” she asked coldly.

“One who has loved you for aeons, oh light of my death.”

Her hand was drawn to her heart and she gazed into the darkness. “Step forward, that I may know you.”

“But you know me already, my love.”

She stepped lightly down from the throne and crossed the floor to stand before him. “Oh, my dearest heart! Then it is true – oblivion has no hold over you.”

“And neither does it over you, my only one. I've been sent to fetch you, the only one of our kind to be released from the prison of existence without violence. Come, step towards me now, and leave behind that hateful rag that is your body.”

The Vampire Queen took his hand and walked away from her physical form, and together they danced in the darkness as music swelled around them.

Then the Vampire King whispered gently in her ear, “Do you remember long ago, my love, in the last war with the Polypontus, you told me you'd had a dream in which we'd had children? I believe you said they were called Lucretia and Belisarius.” Her Vampiric Majesty nodded, and the King continued: “I remember reminding you at the time that the Undead cannot bear young, and that your dream, though beautiful, could never become a reality. Well, my dear, I'm now in a position to tell you that souls are amazingly complex things, far beyond anyone's ability to understand. They can take form from love, wishes and dreams. But mainly from love . . .” He paused and smiled, then turning, he held out his hand to the shadows and called, “You may join us now, my little ones.”

Strange particles of light then began to accumulate before him, and slowly two small forms coalesced from the shadows as though woven from photons. The Vampire Queen gasped and watched avidly as a boy and a girl began to emerge from the surrounding dark. They appeared to be about ten years old, and their faces were a mingling of the best features of Their Vampiric Majesties.

The King smiled. “May I present the twins Belisarius and Lucretia, oh my light and love? They are the children of our minds and dreams, if not of our bodies, and they have been given life in the Spirit Realms.”

The Queen held her hands to her mouth and gazed in wonder on the small forms. The King smiled and called them forward. “Children . . . it is time to meet your mother.”

And so dawned the day of Cressida's wedding. The Great Hall of the citadel was bedecked with greenery, and all of the peoples of the Alliance had gathered to watch the Crown Princess take the hand of Leonidas Apollodorus Andronicus, Commander of the Polypontian army.

Tharaman-Thar and Krisafitsa-Tharina escorted Cressida to stand with her Consort before the Priestess, and then Queen Thirrin and General Andronicus placed the rings upon their fingers, after which Cressida and Leonidas took their vows, pledging to guide the people of the Icemark to happiness and prosperity. A breathless silence then fell as the two newlyweds turned to face each other. Their faces blazed like twin suns, but after much hesitation, and after manoeuvring their noses into the appropriate positions, they finally managed to kiss before the congregation of Allies. And as the cheering raised itself to the rafters, all fell to the feasting with power and might.

Tharaman took his place at the High Table along with his Tharina and Grishmak, but despite their best efforts, something was missing from the atmosphere. “I think it has to be said, happy day or not, somehow no feast is complete without a drinking competition,” said Grishmak sadly. “And no drinking competition is complete without Olememnon.”

“True, very true,” agreed Tharaman. “I've been known to vomit for more than four hours after a session with dear old Ollie. But for some reason I just can't get into the
spirit
of the thing without him.”

“Well, I'm not entirely sure that I miss the vomiting,” said Krisafitsa. “But I do know what you mean about a feast not being the same without him. Of course you could always ask the new Basilea's Consort if he would care to compete against you. I know no one will ever replace Ollie, but he may help to fill the vacuum.”

Tharaman and Grishmak stared along the table to where the tall and slender Consort of the Hypolitan Basilea sat, and they both shook their heads. “Looks a bit of a lightweight to me,” said Grishmak.

“Absolutely. No stamina by the looks of him,” said the Thar. “Still, perhaps we should give him a chance.”

“Go on then, you ask him.”

“All right, I will,” said Tharaman determinedly. Clearing his throat, he called along the table. “I say . . . it's Philippos, isn't it? Yes? Well, Grishmak and I were just wondering if you'd care to partake in a little drinking competition.”

The young man turned a serious face to look at them, and narrowed his eyes. “Ale or wine?”

“Ale,” said Grishmak.

“Right, you're on! Nothing less than a pint per unit, and the first one sick or unconscious is the loser!”

“Done!” said Tharaman. “And Maggie here can be the referee.”

“I'm not entirely sure I'm in any fit condition,” the old scholar giggled. “I'm already at the stage where I can see two Grishmaks.”

“Oh, never mind. You don't mind officiating, Krisafitsa, old girl, do you? No? Good! Right, to battle.”

Sharley, Mekhmet and Kirimin were just attacking their third pudding apiece, and the boys were feeling a little queasy.

“Don't you want those?” asked Kirimin hopefully, nodding at the two huge bowls of steamed pudding and custard that the boys were prodding at with their spoons.

“No, I think we've had enough,” said Mekhmet. Pushing the bowls towards the Snow Leopard, he tried not to watch as she quickly demolished the contents.

“Kiri, we'll be going back to the Desert Kingdom in a few weeks' time,” said Sharley, watching a globule of custard slowly descending her whiskers until a huge tongue quested forth and licked it up. “And myself and Mekhmet were wondering if you'd like to come with us. If your mother will let you, of course.”

The Snow Leopard Princess turned a custard-covered face excitedly towards him. “Really? Oh, yes please, I'd love to. And don't worry about the Mumbo, she'll let me go now. Snow Leopards mature much more quickly than humans.”

“Who's the Mumbo?” asked Mekhmet.

“My mother.”

“But she didn't even want to let you go to the Great Forest a few weeks ago,” Mekhmet pointed out.

“Yes, but as I just said, Snow Leopards mature much more quickly than humans. A few weeks in our terms can be the equivalent of a few years in human terms. I'm quite grown-up now, and completely independent.”

“Great, that's settled, then,” said Sharley decisively. “I thought we'd go via Venezzia and the Southern Continent, and
then, once we've explored the desert for a while, we can go on to Lusuland. You'll just love Queen Ketshaka.”

“Oh, wonderful!” said Kirimin excitedly. “I can't wait to get going. When do we start?”

“Like I said, not for a few weeks yet. But if we travel south through the Polypontus, we can reduce the sea journey by several weeks.”

“That'll suit the horses better,” said Mekhmet.

“That sounds marvellous!” said a familiar voice as Pious fluttered up from under the table. “Can I come too?”

“I'm not sure,” said Mekhmet cautiously. “The people of the Desert Kingdom are deeply devout; just one look at your wings and scales and they'll know exactly what you are, and try to kill you as an act of piety to the One.”

“Well, couldn't you explain I'm a reformed character, not to mention a war hero?”

“We could try, I suppose,” said Mekhmet, though he didn't sound very confident.

“I've got an idea,” Sharley interrupted. “We could dress him in those little red jackets and pantaloons the monkeys wear whenever you see them around the fairs and bazaars in the Desert Kingdom. Then if anyone asks, we can say he's our pet, and that he's been ill and his fur's fallen out.”

“What exactly are monkeys?” Pious enquired.

“Small hairy creatures that look a bit like tiny people wearing fur coats,” Sharley explained. “They're not very bright, and they're also extremely ugly, but lots of people keep them in the Desert Kingdom.”

“An absolutely superb disguise in any other circumstances, I'm sure. But not, I think, for me. I'm sure that somehow my natural brilliance will just shine out.”

“Oh, I think we'll manage,” said Sharley airily. “Is everyone in agreement then; Pious comes with us?”

“Well, he can come along as far as I'm concerned,” said Kiri.

“Me too, I suppose,” Mekhmet agreed eventually, and the four friends began to make plans, to the exclusion of all others. The ever-present thought and memory of Oskan dimmed their excitement, but quite rightfully thinking the Witchfather wouldn't have wanted them to be sad on this day of all days, they continued to discuss their journey.