Fantasy fiction; Imaginary wars and battles -- Fiction
Thereafter for the space of ten heart-beats silence hung like a kestrel
poised in the listening night. Then went a crash through earth and
heaven, and a blinding wildfire through the chamber as it had been
a thunderbolt. All Carcë quaked, and the chamber was filled with
a beating of wings, like the wings of some monstrous bird. The air
that was wintry cold waxed on a sudden hot as the breath of a burning
mountain, and Gro was near choking with the smell of soot and the smell
of brimstone. And the chamber rocked as a ship riding in a swell with
the wind against the tide. But the King, steadying himself against the
table and clutching the edge of it till the veins on his lean hand
seemed nigh to bursting, cried in short breaths and with an altered
voice, “By these figures drawn and by these spells enchanted, by the
unction of wolf and salamander, by the unblest sign of Cancer now
leaning to the sun, and by the fiery heart of Scorpio that flameth in
this hour on night’s meridian, thou art my thrall and instrument. Abase
thee and serve me, worm of the pit. Else will I by and by summon out of
ancient night intelligences and dominations mightier far than thou, and
they shall serve mine ends, and thee shall they chain with chains of
quenchless fire and drag thee from torment to torment through the deep.”
Therewith the earthquake was stilled, and there remained but a
quivering of the walls and floor and the wind of those unseen wings and
the hot smell of soot and brimstone burning. And speech came out of the
teeming air of that chamber, strangely sweet, saying, “Accursed wretch
that troublest our quiet, what is thy will?” The terror of that speech
made the throat of Gro dry, and the hairs on his scalp stood up.
The King trembled in all his members like a frightened horse, yet was
his voice level and his countenance unruffled as he said hoarsely,
“Mine enemies sail at day-break from the Foliot Isles. I loose thee
against them as a falcon from my wrist. I give thee them. Turn them to
thy will: how or where it skills not, so thou do but break and destroy
them off the face of the world. Away!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account