The first explosion came as a muffled roar. Corun felt the floor
tremble under his feet. Men and Xanthi stood motionless, looking at
each other with widening eyes in which a common doom arose.
So it ended. Shorzon and Tsathu and their wizard cohorts would be gone,
but Chryseis, mad, lovely Chryseis, was loose, and the gods knew what
hell she could brew among the leaderless Xanthi.
The walls groaned as another boom echoed down their length.
Well, death came to every man, and he had not done so badly. Corun
began to realize how weary he was; he was bleeding from wounds and
breath was raw in his lungs.
The Umlotuans hammered on the door in panic. But the twenty or fewer
survivors could never break it down.
The devil-powder roared. The floor heaved sickeningly under Corun's
feet. He heard the crash of collapsing masonry.
Wait--wait--one chance! One chance, by the gods!
"Be ready to run out when the walls topple," he shouted. "We'll have a
little time--"
The Xanthi were fleeing in terror. The humans stood alone, waiting
while the explosions rolled and banged around them. Cracks zigzagged
across the walls, dust choked the dank air.
_Crash!_
Corun saw the nearer wall swaying, toppling. The floor lifted and
buckled and he fell to the lurching ground. All the world was an
insanity of racket and ruin.
The lintel caved in, the portal sagged. Corun leaped for the opening
like a pouncing erinye. The men swarmed with it, out through the
widening hole while the roof came down behind them.
Someone screamed, a faint lost sound in the grinding fury of sundering
stone. Rocks were flying--Corun saw one of them crack a man's head like
a melon. Wildly he ran as the outer facade came down.
There was a madness of storm outside, wind screaming to fill the
sky, driving solid sheets of rain and hail before it. The incessant
blinding lightning glared in a cold shadowless brilliance, the bawling
thunder drowned the roar of exploding devil-powder. They fought out
through the courtyard, past the deserted outer gate.
There came a blast which seemed to crack the sky. Corun was knocked
down as by a giant's fist. He lay in the mud and saw a pillar of flame
lift toward the heavens with the castle fountaining up on its wings.
Thunder roared over the earth, shouting to the storm that raged in the
heavens.
Corun picked himself up and leaned dizzily against a tree stripped
clean by the blast. Rain slanted across the ground, churning the mud
beneath his feet, the livid lightning-glare blazing above. Vaguely,
through ringing, deafened ears, he heard the wild clamor of the sea.
Looking down the cataract which the upward trail had become, he saw the
_Briseia_ rocking in the wind where she lay on the beach.
He gestured to Imazu, who staggered up to join him. His voice was
barely audible over the shouting wind: "Take the men down there. We
can't sail in this storm, but make the ship fast, stand guard over her.
If I'm not back when the storm is done, start for home."
"Where are you going?" cried the Umlotuan.
"I'll be back--maybe. Stay with the ship!"
Corun turned and slogged across the ground toward the jungle.
* * * * *
Weariness was gone. He was like a machine running without thought or
pain until it burned out. Chryseis would have fled toward high ground,
he thought dully.
Behind him, Imazu started forward, then checked himself. Something
of the ultimate loneliness that was in Corun must have come to the
Umlotuan. It was not a mission on which any other man might go. And
they had to save the ship. He gestured to his few remaining men and
they began the slow climb down to the beach.
The castle was a heap of shattered rock, still moving convulsively as
the last few boxes of devil-powder exploded. The rain boiled down over
it, churning through the fragments. Lightning flamed in the berserk
heavens.
Corun pushed through underbrush that clutched at his feet and clawed
at his skin. The sword was still hanging loosely in one hand, nicked
and blunted with battle. He went on mechanically, scarcely noticing the
wind-whipped trees that barred his way.
It came to him that he was fighting for Khroman, the thalassocrat of
Achaera, ruler by right of conquest over Conahur. But there were worse
things than foreign rule, if it was human, and one of the greater evils
had fled toward the mountain.
Presently he came out on the bare rocks above the fringe of jungle
growth. The rain hammered at him, driven by a wind that screamed like
a maddened beast. Thunder boomed and rolled overhead, a roar of doom
answering the thud of his heart. The water rushed over his ankles,
foaming down toward the sea.
She stood waiting for him atop a high bare hill. Her cloak was drawn
tightly about her slender body, but the wind caught at it, whipped and
tore it. Her rain-wet hair blew wild.
"Corun," she called under the gale. "Corun."
"I am coming," he said, not caring if she heard him or not. He
struggled up to where she stood limned against the sheeted fire in
heaven. They faced each other while the storm raged around them.
"Corun--"
She read death in his eyes as he lifted the sword. Her form blurred,
the outlines of a monster grew to his eyes.
He laughed bitterly. "I know what your magic is," he said. "You saw me
kill Tsathu."
She was human again, human and lovely, a light-footed spirit of the
hurricane. Her face was etched white in the lightning-glare.
"Perias!" she screamed.
The erinye crept forth, belly to the ground, tail lashing. Hell glared
out of the ice-green eyes. Corun braced himself, sword in hand.
Perias sprang--not straight at the man, but into the air. His wings
caught the wind, whirling him aloft. Twisting in mid-flight, he arrowed
down. Corun struck at him. The erinye dodged the blow and one buffeting
wingtip caught the man's wrist. The sword fell from Corun's hand. At
once the erinye was on him.
Corun fell under that smashing attack. The erinye's fangs gleamed above
his throat, the claws sank into his muscles. He flung up an arm and the
teeth crunched on it, grinding at the bone.
[Illustration: _Corun fell under that smashing attack ... fangs
gleamed, and claws sank into his muscles...._]
Corun wrapped his legs in a scissor-lock around the gaunt body,
pressing himself too close for the clawed hind feet to disembowel him.
His free hand reached out, gouging--he felt an eyeball tear loose, and
the erinye opened his mouth in a thin scream. Corun pulled his torn
arm free. He struck with a balled fist at the devil-beast and felt his
knuckles break under the impact. But bone snapped. Perias' jaw hung
suddenly loose.
The erinye sprang back and Corun lurched to hands and knees. Perias
edged closer, stiff-legged. Corun stumbled erect and Perias charged.
One great wing smashed out, brought the man toppling back to earth.
Perias leaped for his exposed belly.
Corun lashed out with both feet. The thud was dull and hollow under
the racketing thunder. Perias tumbled back and Corun sprang on him.
The barbed tail slashed, laying Corun's thigh open. He fell atop the
struggling beast and got his free hand on the throat.
The mighty wings threshed, half lifting man and erinye. Corun pulled
himself over on the writhing back. He locked legs around the body, arms
around the neck, and heaved.
The erinye yowled. His wings clashed together with skull-cracking
force, barely missing the head of the man who hugged his back. His tail
raked against Corun's back, seeking the vitals. Corun gave another
yank. He felt the supple spine bending. Heave!
Perias lifted a brassy scream. The strange dry sound of snapping
vertebrae crackled out. Corun rolled away from the threshing form.
Perias gasped, lifted his broken head, and looked with filming green
eyes at Chryseis where she stood unmoving against the white fire of the
sky. Slowly, painfully, he dragged himself toward her. Breath rattled
in and out of his blood-filled lungs.
"Perias--" Chryseis bent over to touch the great head. The erinye
sighed. His rough tongue licked her feet. Then he shuddered and lay
still.
"Perias."
Corun climbed to his feet and stood shaking. There was no strength left
in him--it was running out through a dozen yawning wounds. The ground
whirled and tilted crazily about him. He saw her standing against the
sky and slowly, slowly, he came toward her.
Chryseis picked up a stone and threw it. It seemed to take an immense
time, arcing toward him. Some dim corner of his buckling consciousness
realized that it would knock him out, that she could then kill him with
the sword and escape into the hills.
It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.
The stone crashed against his skull and the world exploded into
darkness.
X
He woke up, slowly and painfully, and lay for a long time in a state
of half-awareness, remembering only confused fragments of battle and
despair.
When he opened his eyes, he saw that the storm was dying. Lightning was
wan in the sky, and thunder mumbled farewell. The wind had fallen, the
rain fell slow and heavy down on him.
He saw her bending over him. The long wet hair tumbled past her face
to fall on his breast. He was wrapped in her cloak, and she had ripped
bandages from her robe for his hurts.
He tried to move, and could only stir feebly. She laid a hand on his
cheek. "Don't," she whispered. "Just lie there, Corun."
His head was on her lap, he realized dimly. His eyes questioned her.
She laughed, softly under the falling rain.
"Don't you see?" she said. "Didn't you think of it? Shorzon's geas was
put on me as a child. I was always under his will. Even when he was
dead, it was strong enough to drive me along his road.
"But I love you, Corun. I will always love you. My love warred with
Shorzon's will even as I tried to kill you. And when I saw you lying
there helpless, after such a fight as no man has ever waged since the
gods walked the earth--
"I tried to stab you. And I couldn't. Shorzon's geas was broken."
Her hands stroked his hair. "You aren't too badly hurt, Corun. I'll
get you down to the ship. With my witch's powers, we can win through
any Xanthi who try to stop us--not that I think they will, with their
leaders destroyed. We can get safely to Achaera."
She sighed. "I will see that you escape my father's power, Corun. If
you will return to the pirate life, I will follow you."
He shook his head. "No," he whispered. "No, I will take service under
Khroman, if he will have me."
"He will," she vowed softly. "He needs strong men. And someday you can
be thalassocrat of the empire--"
It wasn't so bad, thought Corun drowsily. Khroman was a good sort. A
highly placed Conahurian could gradually ease the burdens of his people
until they had full equality with Achaera in a united and peaceful
domain.
The menace of the Xanthi was ended. To be on the safe side, Achaera had
better make them tributary; an expedition which he, Corun, could lead.
After that, there would be enough to keep a man busy. As well as the
loveliest and best of women for wife.
He slept. He did not waken when Imazu led a squad up in search of him.
Chryseis laid a finger on her lips and a flash of understanding passed
between her and the captain. He nodded, smiling, and clasped her hand
with sudden warmth.
They bore the sleeping warrior back through the rain, down to the
waiting ship.