The Kallanon Scales (66 page)

Teighlar
gripped Torrullin’s shoulders. “Torrullin, all gods be praised into
all Eternity. A second chance! A new life! Thank all good that you
brought that creature here on your flesh, for you have brought me
the means to Redemption!”

There was
stunned silence.

Torrullin
shook Teighlar off. “What are you on about?”

“This is the
greatest moment,” Teighlar’s face was radiant. “Do you not
see?”

“I do not
see,” Torrullin growled. “You have the appearance of a madman.”

“Of course, forgive me, I must seem insane. Gods above, I
have waited long and you,
you
, brought it right here, made it
real!” There were tears upon Teighlar’s thin cheeks.

“You are not
making sense,” Vannis said. He was on his feet. “You suggest the
Dragon is a benevolent factor? Wake up, Emperor, and smell the Murs
air.”

Teighlar sat.
“Tristamil read the runes on the wall. It is a great day.”

Torrullin froze.
Runes on a
wall?

Tristamil
strode in. “A great day? How, Emperor, when what it says is a doom
I would prevent my father knowing and cannot afford to!” He leaned
in. “What does it say, Emperor Teighlar? Do you even know?”

The hall was
silent but for Tristamil’s harsh breathing.

Teighlar’s
gaze was unfathomable. “I know what it says. I wrote it.”

Tristamil
paled and took a step back.

“I saw it a
long time ago, and I wrote it there and enchanted the wall. No one
could touch it, a necessary protection given the sheer scales of
time I needed to work in. The day when one could approach it
without harm, and read it, then I would know the time had finally
come. That time is now.”

Tristamil
glanced at his father. “It is a prophecy.”

“Confirming
what Tymall said in the chamber.”

“Yes.”

“Teighlar, my
son has something to tell me. Please be quiet.”

Tristamil
inhaled or strength. “We came to a wall and around it a multitude
sat in expectancy.”

Torrullin said
not a word and his hand again reached for the back of the chair,
and gripped.

“When I
touched my sword to the wall the runes revealed. There was a
pattern I did not recognise and yet I understood. At the time I
thought it was ancient magic …”

“Ninety
million years is old,” Teighlar muttered.

“Once I had
deciphered the lettering, it vanished …”

“… and the
wall lost the power inhabiting it,” Teighlar finished.

“Indeed.”

“The language
you read is the same as that you employ to power your sword.”

Tristamil
blanched. “How? This is a Kallanon blade and that is an Atrudisin
wall.”

“Luvanese,
young Tristamil. Very old.”

“The Kallanon
speak the tongue of the Valleur,” Abdiah put in, “and write in
runes.”

“What did it
say
?” Vannis demanded.

Tristamil drew
himself up and faced his father. “It tells of the re-emergence of
an old and known enemy.”

Torrullin read
the expression in his son’s eyes. “It cannot be. I killed him.”

Vannis
swore.

Taranis,
paling, said, “There must be a mistake. Teighlar, who or what
destroyed Grinwallin? Maybe that is the old and known enemy.”

Teighlar sighed. “
I
destroyed Grinwallin, Guardian.”

“Father?”
Tristamil whispered.

Torrullin
visibly pulled himself together. “Go on, say it all.”

Tristamil was expressionless. He spoke as if what he quoted
was outside of him. “
This is the telling
of a time when all may change, for in the window to the future of
all races has been seen the coming of a Darkness that has been and
will be again, and it will be embodied as a threesome, two
indivisible and two indivisible, for a time. Two will inhabit the
same skin and be sentient and two will be of identical genesis, and
one will be common to each kind. Do not be fooled, all is not lost,
for Darkness cannot exist without lamps to triumph over, and if all
things are in place new hope will come in the form of the Catalyst,
he who is host to another not of the genesis, and that hope will
not only release the Darkness, but also the Waiting
One.
”

“I am the
Waiting One,” Teighlar whispered. “Life returns to Grinwallin.”

“And I am the
Catalyst, the host to the Darkness and father to the identical
genesis.”

“Margus is in
Tymall, father. He told me about the essence of the Darak Or in the
Star Chamber and spoke as if he knew him well. He mentioned the
cave where our mother was prisoner. He claimed he was recognised
there.” Tristamil was pale and his eyes, heart and soul focused
exclusively on his father.

Taranis was
aghast.

“There was no
trace of his essence after the final confrontation,” Torrullin
said. “I thought I dealt with him and was too relieved to search
intensively. He went where I was not yet aware of a new soul. He
went to Tymall, knowing him as I had overlooked him. Tymall never
had a chance.” He drew breath and released a strangled laugh. “By
god, this is my own arrogance coming back at me.” He strode onto
the terrace.

Bartholamu,
outside observing the Murs, watched him warily, having heard every
word.

Tristamil went
to stand beside his father. “He will use Tymall’s body to
manipulate you.”

Torrullin drew
his sword.

Teighlar
bounced to his feet.

Quilla
sighed.

Torrullin
pointed the blade into the west and raised his other hand high, and
his face was terrible.

“
Margus
!”
he shouted, throwing his voice in the age-old manner that
reverberated across time and space to reach out to an enemy
wherever that enemy might hide. “I
know
you, Margus! Come if you dare!”

What is fair?
Answer that, and you solve the riddle of universes.

~ Book of
Sages

Grinwallin

O
nce before he was forced to wait on
Margus and it was a time of violence, as well as the time the Darak
Or unknowingly recognised his son.

Anger then
nearly cost him a long-term relationship with his father, and he
almost turned his back on Saska. In the end, he understood that
patience paid and anger clouded.

They were
lessons he would rely upon now.

Torrullin
returned to the great hall and said, “The Dragon on my chest is the
greater danger at present and we shall deal with him before we
become embroiled with Margus. I understand you regard Neolone as
the greater evil, and you are right, but I regard Margus as my
biggest threat. I want done with this fiasco. We rout the Murs as
soon as I am free of this symbiosis.”

Torrullin
speared Teighlar with stormy eyes. “Now we shall hear your tale,
Emperor. We need to know how far it affects what we do next. Keep
it short, I have other concerns.”

Teighlar gave
a nod.

“First I need
a word with my son.” Torrullin and Tristamil wandered off.

“Is the Darak
Or the greater threat?” Key-ler asked of Krikian in a whisper.

“Neolone will
have superior destructive power, but Margus is personal. The
annihilation of Valaris was a hundred-fold worse than what has been
done to Atrudis. This Darak Or stole his son, how would you
feel?”

“Murderous,”
Caltian muttered.

“Multiply that
a few factors,” Camot said out of the side of his mouth. “You folk
are about to meet the real Enchanter.”

Lowen
overheard and her startling blue eyes moved to Torrullin.

Teighlar sat
with his head bowed, waiting for Torrullin to return.

Tristamil spoke
first. “I preferred telling you alone.”

Torrullin laid
a hand on his shoulder. “I hear you. Something more came out of
this, maybe of extreme importance.”

“The Emperor’s
contribution.”

“It appears he
is the legend and king of the prophecy.”

“Everything
for a reason, then, even an unpalatable and public revealing.”

Torrullin
snorted. “I do not always agree with that everything for a reason
crap, but this time, yes. Before we go back, are you all right? Did
the runes leave scars?”

“They can
leave scars?”

“Some.”

“I am
unmarked.”

“Good. I was
not so lucky with Nemisin’s.” Torrullin squeezed his son’s shoulder
and Tristamil’s hand descended hard to keep it in place.

“What does
that mean, father? What scars? Which set of runes?”

“One day when
you are Vallorin you will know.”

Tristamil
glared at his father. “That is most unsatisfying.”

Torrullin gave
a wry laugh. “Isn’t it? Vannis used to talk in riddles as well
until I took the mantle. Let it go, son, your time comes all too
soon.”

“What does
that
mean?”

Torrullin
gently removed his hand out from under his son’s fierce grip. “Only
that any time between now and then will be too short once you sit
on the Throne.”

Tristamil
swore under his breath and followed his father back to the
gathering.

Teighlar had
the floor.

“I am Senlu,
this is our world and we called her Luvanor. Senlu as a race name
is lost to antiquity, but know we are like to you. We were not
immortal and we were not as long-lived as the Valleur - two
centuries was an average lifespan. We were sorcerers, but you have
already guessed that. Unfortunately, the Senlu were also extremely
warlike. Luvanor was good to us and we wanted for nothing, except
what we coveted from our neighbours. We were ruled by an Emperor, a
hereditary title, therefore one royal family, as warlike as the
lowliest servant. Until my time. Hoping not to sound arrogant, I
claim change from that attitude, and wish to all gods I never
interfered with tradition, even one as malicious as war. I believe
the spectre of extinction would have arrived eventually, but I
ensured it in one afternoon.”

Teighlar
paused there and Torrullin’s impatient frown forced him on.

“Grinwallin
was already old, and beautiful, I desired we hold that beauty
close. I wanted to do away with old tribal systems and the
continuous battle for supremacy. I was weaned on war and sick of
it. I desired lasting peace for Luvanor in general and Grinwallin
in particular. It took years, decades of negotiation, promises,
rewards and all manner of wheedling, threats even, and we got
there. I thought I achieved my goal, for Grinwallin rang with the
sound of laughter rather than steel, and children played without
fear, while their parents learned the extraordinary value of a
smile. We danced in the streets. I was wrong, of course. You cannot
change ages of an entrenched way of life in less than a
generation.”

Teighlar
sighed. “Beyond the city gates the fires stoked anew and my sons
fanned the flames of insurrection. Years they spent gathering the
rebellion. They could not work together, for pity’s sake, were ever
fighting each other - how did they manage it? I still do not know.
The day came when they stormed the city gates and, once inside,
killed everything in their path. Women, children, even the animals.
And when they were done the rebellion force turned on each other
and there was more killing. Grinwallin ran red with the blood of
hundreds of thousands and stank of putrefaction.”

“Dear god,”
Quilla murmured.

Teighlar drew
breath. “Had I failed my boys so much they could organise atrocity
and become part of it? Should I just have left the wars to continue
until we murdered each other into extinction? Perhaps, for Hell had
a new name then and it was Grinwallin.”

“Jesus,” Matt
whispered.

“Where was I
in this, you ask? I was here, with four thousand who fled the
killing, survivors of a murder spree. I fought out there with my
guard, but as they were slain, I retreated. We were three, me and
two guards, and we had to defend four thousand who no longer knew
how to carry a weapon. Had I not succeeded spectacularly? I sealed
the arches and hoped it would end, but the seals were breached and
they entered. The killing began.”

“That is
terrible,” Cat gasped.

Teighlar
closed his eyes and bowed his head. “They had to pay, even if it
meant the death of every one of my subjects. I vowed no Sirdann
male would rule after me. The infamy would shame me into eternity
and no sane future awaited Luvanor under their rule, and thus
…”

“Do not
explain,” Torrullin interrupted.

Teighlar’s
head lifted. A face filled with suffering. “I must, do you not see?
My redemption is at hand and I am not to hide.” He lifted his face
to the invisible ceiling. “I do not regret ending my blood, but I
seek the forgiveness of the innocents I watched die that day as I
sang them to their death.”

“Sang? The
Song, like the Q’lin’la?” Taranis queried.

“No, nothing
like it. Senlu sorcerers called it the Triple Song.”

“The Three
Voices,” Torrullin said.

“It does not
distinguish between good and evil and that is what is so appalling.
All who hear it are doomed and it cannot be reversed. It dare not
be reversed. It is a bending of power so barbaric …”

Torrullin was
ashen. “Don’t.”

“How does it
work?” Vannis asked.

“Nightmares
are made real …”

Torrullin
interrupted. “You will not say another word.”

Teighlar
inclined his head. “You are right, it should never be explained. It
is an evil a good man can master too easily.”

“Torrullin?
You have used this sorcery?” Taranis asked.