She lifted a reassuring hand. ‘Have you decided how you intend to achieve this… confrontation?’ she asked out of the darkness of her hood.
Hawklan shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not in detail. The idea itself has only recently become clear. I thought we’d travel to the Caves of Cadwanen, learn what we could of the terrain of Narsindal from the Cadwanol, and then enter Narsindal through the Pass of Elewart. After that… ’ He shrugged. ‘That’s why I want to take our best Helyadin.’
‘Do you have such information?’ Gulda said, the hood turning towards Andawyr.
‘Some,’ the little man replied. ‘Mainly of the south and south-east.’ He spread out his hands in an apolo-getic gesture. ‘The interior’s very poorly mapped. No one knows even where Lake Kedrieth is exactly, other than it’s in the middle of a marshy and treacherous region.’
Gulda nodded and turned back to Hawklan. ‘And after your encounter with Oklar, you feel you can beard his Master in His own den?’ she said.
Hawklan shook his head. ‘After my encounter with Oklar, I have some measure of my inadequacy for such a task,’ he said quietly.
‘Then what do you hope to achieve?’ Gulda asked simply.
‘I don’t know,’ Hawklan said bluntly. ‘But all the travelling I’ve done these past months has been without clear direction. To the Gretmearc, to Fyorlund, to Vakloss. All vaguely motivated, yet all apparently serving some fruitful end.’ He rested his hand on his sword. ‘Perhaps I’ll be able to kill Him. Perhaps I’ll be no more than a… focus… of some kind of… for greater powers… ’
‘Perhaps you’ll die,’ Gulda said.
Hawklan nodded in acceptance of this verdict. ‘But not easily, I hope,’ he added.
Gulda eased her hood back and leaned forward again. Her face was calm once more, and slightly amused. ‘So this is an act of faith then?’ she said.
Hawklan glanced repentantly at Andawyr. ‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ he said awkwardly. ‘But it’s still the only alternative,’ he added defensively. ‘Our army will meet His. The Cadwanol will contend with the Uhriel, but someone must do battle with Sumeral Himself.’
‘And you are that one?’ Gulda inquired, not un-kindly.
‘Not by my choice,’ Hawklan said with a grimace of distaste. ‘But who else should it be?’
Gulda levelled a finger towards his sword. ‘That sword could indeed slay Sumeral,’ she said. ‘Perhaps your hand could wield it truly enough. But He has many weapons, and you haven’t the remotest skill with the Old Power. If He senses you coming, and He may well with that by your side, then He’ll dispatch you with a thought wherever you are.’
Hawklan looked at Andawyr. ‘That’s why I wanted Andawyr to come with us,’ he said. ‘He could offer us some protection.’
‘He can’t oppose Sumeral,’ Gulda said, raising her voice.
‘I didn’t ask him to come with us to do that,’ Hawk-lan replied, his own voice rising in response. ‘That task, whatever it proves to be, is mine. Andawyr has hidden from Sumeral’s vision before-perhaps he could do it for us.’
Gulda took a deep breath as if to launch into a pro-longed onslaught, but Hawklan struck first.
‘Sumeral is not what He was at His height,’ he said. ‘Nor, thus, His Uhriel. Had he been, He’d have swept out of Narsindal years ago instead of all this plotting and scheming.’
‘Don’t seek to understand His intentions,’ Gulda said warningly. ‘Didn’t we agree that?’ Her manner became severe. ‘And know this. Sumeral at one tenth His strength is far beyond anything that this Cadwanwr could attain, leader of his order or not.’
Andawyr nodded.
Hawklan turned to him. ‘Strength is of no avail against nothing,’ he said. ‘You hid from Sumeral by not opposing Him, didn’t you? You avoided Him because you had the knowledge to stay silent. That’s why I want you to come-your knowledge is the greater part of your true strength in this battle.’
‘I’m not arguing,’ Andawyr said, nodding towards Gulda. ‘I’ve already volunteered. But you’re right; silence is probably the only thing that will bring us to Derras Ustramel safely.’
Dar-volci yawned and stretched on Andawyr’s knee. ‘I’ll come as well,’ he said. ‘Sounds fun.’
Gulda ignored him and turned her attention to Lo-man and Isloman. ‘You think this is a good idea I suppose?’ she said.
‘No,’ Isloman said. ‘I think it’s an appalling, terrify-ing idea, but I doubt there’s any other, and I can’t do anything other than go.’ He leaned forward and spoke earnestly. ‘Apart from the atrocities that have been committed to people, there’s no true peace for me anywhere now if I do not oppose the… creature… who opened those mines and so defiled those ancient, resting rocks. All the work I’ve ever done, the knowledge I’ve gained, indeed, my whole life, would count for nothing if I did not set it in the balance against the worker of such an abomination.’
Gulda turned to Loman. He returned her gaze stead-ily.
‘Stop dithering, Gulda,’ he said impatiently. ‘There is no alternative. Sumeral and His Uhriel have to be killed. Wherever Ethriss is he’s beyond our immediate finding, but we have his sword, his bow, his castle and not least his Cadwanol with us. Hawklan’s the only person remotely capable of doing the job, and one way or another our Helyadin will get him to Derras Ustramel so that he can do it. All we need to discuss now are details.’
There was an ominous silence. Gulda’s face had darkened as Loman had spoken. Gavor whistled a vague tuneless dirge softly under his breath and looked at almost everything in the room except the two protago-nists. Even the snowflakes outside the window seemed to hover.
Gulda’s face contorted, at first in anger, then in an almost girlish mixture of amusement and distress.
‘It’s Memsa to you, young Loman, and don’t forget it,’ she said with a peculiarly unsteady chuckle. ‘On the whole I preferred your brother’s more poetic commit-ment, but you’re not without some mastery in simple communication. I commend the clarity of your vision.’
She laughed softly, but it was an uncertain sound, and her hand came to her face to wipe away tears.
‘I don’t know why I should laugh,’ she said. ‘Ethriss knows, I can’t think of anything more devoid of humour than what we’re talking about.’
She sniffed noisily and, retrieving a kerchief from somewhere, finished wiping her eyes. ‘When do you intend to go then?’ she said.
Hawklan looked at her uncertainly for a moment. ‘It is the only alternative, isn’t it?’ he asked.
‘I’m afraid so,’ Gulda replied, almost casually. ‘And the smith’s right. All we have to debate now are the details.’ She stood up and stumped over to the window. As she stood there, her reflection stared relentlessly through her as if she did not exist.
‘How will we keep in contact with you?’ Loman asked.
‘You won’t,’ Hawklan said. ‘You’ll have no idea where we are, and we’ll have no idea where you are. That way neither can inadvertently betray the other. No one, save us here, is to have any inkling of what we intend. It’s going to be a perilous journey at best, and if He’s forewarned… ’ Hawklan left the sentence unfin-ished. ‘To all inquiries your answer must be, "They’ve gone to seek and waken Ethriss." Neither of us can afford to waste time fretting about the other. Have no illusions; we must both succeed or we’ll both perish. Is that clear? Commitment must be total at all times.’
Loman nodded.
‘When are you going?’ Gulda asked again.
‘As soon as we can get over the mountains,’ Hawk-lan said. ‘And as soon as you wish after that, you can make preparations for the army to march.’
Gulda turned back from the window. ‘You’ll not leave before the Winter Festival, then. Or for some time after, if I’m any judge,’ she said, inclining her head towards the steadily falling snow.
Hawklan smiled. ‘I’d no intention of doing that anyway,’ he said. ‘This Festival is important; a beacon of light in the midst of the darkness in every way.’
He joined her at the window. The snow was falling very heavily now and, all around, the lights of the Castle were shining out to illuminate its silent, graceful, dance. It was a comforting and reassuring sight.