Fred Saberhagen Berserker 00 Earth Descended

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the Earth again.
The flame felt very hot. When Zalazar probed it with his sword, it pushed the
swordblade back. "But what power is this that imprisons him? Je?"
Do not ask questions, mortal. Act.
Zalazar stalked right and left, seeking a way around the flames or through
them. The figure inside them did not seem to be burned or tormented by the
terrible heat, but only bound. But Zalazar as he approached the tongues of
fire had to raise first one hand, and then his shield, to try to protect
himself from radiance and glare. The only way to reach the bound god seemed to
be to leap directly into the flames, or through them.
Zalazar tried. Unbearable pain seared at him, and the tongues of flame seized
him like hands and threw him back. The instant he was clear of the flames,
their burning stopped; he was unharmed.
Je shrieked words of compulsion in his ear. Zalazar wrapped himself in his
silvery cloak, raised his shield, brandished his sword, and tried again. And
was thrown back.
And yet again, but all to no avail. And still Je made him try. She stood near
now in her full imaged presence.
And yet again the tongues of fire gripped
Zalazar, and hurled him flying, sprawling.
When
Zalazar saw that the metal of his shield was running now in molten drops, he
cried aloud his agony: "Spare me, great Je! What will you have from me? Only
so much can you make of me, so much and no more."
"I will make whatever I wish of you, mortal. We are so near, so very near to
victory!"
Her gaze turned to Bormanus, and she went on: "There is a way in which we can
augment our power, as I foresaw. Murder will feed great magic."
Zalazar came crawling along -the floor, toward the goddess's feet. He made his
hand let go the sword. Only now he realized that no scabbard for it had ever
been given him. "Goddess, do not demand of me that I kill my own flesh and
blood. It will not bring you victory. I was never a great wizard, even in my
youth. No Alhazred, no
Vulcan the Shaper. Though even before I met you I had convinced myself of
that. A
warrior? Conqueror? No, I am not Trillion Mu either, though I have killed; and
yours and your demon's power sustain me in combat for a time even against Thor
Red-beard himself. But I cannot do more. Even murder will not give me power
enough. And if it could, I will not "
In fishwife rage, Je lost her self-control. "What are you, thing of clay, to
argue with me?" She grabbed Bormanus and forced him forward, bent down so that
his neck was exposed for a sword-stroke. "Earth is mine to deal with as I
will, and you are no more than a clod of earth. Kill him!"
"Destroy me if you will, goddess. If you can. I will not kill him."
Je's eyes glowed, orange fire from a volcano. "I see that I have maddened you
with my assistance, until you think you are a demigod at least. You are not
worth destruction. If I only withdraw my sustaining power, you will both fall
back to earth and be no more than bird-dung when you land. Where will you turn
for help if I
abandon you?"
Zalazar, on his feet again, turned physically, looking for help. The
half-melted shield now felt impossibly heavy, weighing his left arm down. The
brocade of his god-
garments hung on him now like lead. The last time the flames had thrown him,
some of their pain had remained in his bones. At a thought from Je, the
cloud-floor of the palace would open beneath his feet. He would have a long
fall in which to think things over.
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The Throne of the World was empty, waiting. No help there. But still he was
not going to murder.
Je's voice surprised him in its altered tone. It was less threatening now.
"Zalazar, I see that I must tell you the truth. It need not be Helios that you
place on the Throne when you have gained the power. It could be me."
"You?"
"The truth is that it could even be yourself."
"I?"
Zalazar turned slowly. Looked at the Throne again, and thought, and shook his
head. "I am only a poor man, I tell you, goddess. Alone and almost lost. If it
is true
that I can choose the Ruler of the World, well, it must be some cruel joke,
such as you say that even gods are subject to. But if the choice is truly mine
to make, I will not give it you. As for taking it myself, I, I should not. I
have no fitness, or powers, or wealth, or even family."
Silence fell in Cloudholm. It was an abrupt change; a stillness that was
something more than silence had descended. Zalazar waited, eyes downcast,
holding his breath, trying to understand.
Then he began to understand, for the last three words that he himself had
spoken seemed to be echoing and re-echoing in the air. All his life he had
been a poor nomad, with no family at all.
Even the flames of Helios' prison seemed to have cooled somewhat, though
Zalazar did not immediately raise his head to look at them. When it seemed to
him that the silence might have gone on for half an hour, he did at last look
up.
He who had walked with Zalazar as his companion had at last taken the lyre
from his belt, and the others were allowed to recognize him now.
Je had recoiled, cringing, herself for once down on one knee, with averted
gaze. But
Zalazar, for now, could look.
White teeth, inhumanly beautiful and even, smiled at him. "Old man, you have [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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