Fantasy fiction; Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction
But Zeldornius answered him not, still gazing downwards before his
feet. And there was Helteranius fallen, the sword of Jalcanaius Fostus
standing in his heart, and his right hand grasping still his own sword
that had given Jalcanaius his bane-sore.
So looked they awhile on those two great captains slain. And Zeldornius
said, “Speak not comfortably to me of victory, O Juss. So long as that
sword, and that, had his master alive, I did not more desire mine own
safety than their destruction who with me in days gone by made conquest
of wide Impland. And see with what a poisoned violence they laboured my
undoing, and in what an unexpected ruin are they suddenly broken and
gone.” And as one grown into a deep sadness he said, “Where were all
heroical parts but in Helteranius? and a man might make a garment for
the moon sooner than fit the o’erleaping actions of great Jalcanaius,
who now leaveth but his body to bedung that earth that was lately
shaken at his terror. I have waded in red blood to the knee; and in
this hour, in my old years, the world is become for me a vision only
and a mock-show.”
Therewith he looked on the Demons, and there was that in his eyes that
stayed their speech.
In a while he spake again, saying, “I sware unto you my furtherance if
I prevailed. But now is mine army passed away as wax wasteth before the
fire, and I wait the dark ferryman who tarrieth for no man. Yet, since
never have I wrote mine obligations in sandy but in marble memories,
and since victory is mine, receive these gifts: and first thou, O
Brandoch Daha, my sword, since before thou wast of years eighteen
thou wast accounted the mightiest among men-at-arms. Mightily may it
avail thee, as me in time gone by. And unto thee, O Spitfire, I give
this cloak. Old it is, yet may it stand thee in good stead, since this
virtue it hath that he who weareth it shall not fall alive into the
hand of his enemies. Wear it for my sake. But unto thee, O Juss, give I
no gift, for rich thou art of all good gifts: only my good will give I
unto thee, ere earth gape for me.”
So they thanked him well. And he said, “Depart from me, since now
approacheth that which must complete this day’s undoing.”
So they fared back to the spy-fortalice, and night came down on the
hills. A great wind moaning out of the hueless west tore the clouds
as a ragged garment, revealing the lonely moon that fled naked
betwixt them. As the Demons looked backward in the moonlight to where
Zeldornius stood gazing on the dead, a noise as of thunder made the
firm land tremble and drowned the howling of the wind. And they beheld
how earth gaped for Zeldornius.
After that, the dark shut down athwart the moon, and night and silence
hung on the field of Salapanta.
X: THE MARCHLANDS OF THE MORUNA
OF THE JOURNEY OF THE DEMONS FROM SALAPANTA TO ESHGRAR OGO:
WHEREIN IS SET DOWN CONCERNING THE LADY OF ISHNAIN NEMARTRA,
AND OTHER NOTABLE MATTERS.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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