need of you.”
I shook my head slowly and drew a heavy breath. “Prepare to defend yourself, Prince Arjavh,” I said.
He shrugged, swiftly brought up the mace against the blow I aimed at him and then brought it down suddenly upon my metal-gauntleted wrist. My whole arm went numb. I tried to cling to the sword, but my fingers would not respond. It dropped from my hand and hung by a thong from my wrist.
With a curse, I flung myself from my saddle straight at him, my good hand grasping, but he turned his horse aside and I fell, face forward, in the bloody mud of the field. I attempted once to rise, failed, and lost consciousness.
I shivered, aware that I was no longer clad in my armour. I looked up. Arjavh stood over me.
“I wonder why he hates me,” he said to himself before he realized that I was awake. His expression altered and he gave me a light smile. “You’re a ferocious one, Sir Champion.”
“My warriors,” I said, “what…?”
“Those that were left have fled. We released the few prisoners we had and sent them after their comrades. Those were the terms, I believe?”
I struggled up. “Then you are going to release me?”
“I suppose so. Although…”
“Although?”
“You would be a useful bargaining prisoner.”
I took his meaning and relaxed, sinking back onto the hard bed. I thought deeply and fought the idea which came to me, but it grew too large in me. At length I said, almost against my will: “Trade me for Ermizhad.”
His cool eyes showed surprise for an instant.
“You would suggest that? But Ermizhad is Humanity’s chief hostage.”
“Damn you, Eldren—I said trade me for her.”
“You’re a strange human, my friend. But with your permission granted, that is what I shall do. I thank you.”
He left the tent. I heard him instructing a messenger.
“Make sure the people know,” I shouted from the bed. “The king may not agree, but the people will force his hand.”
Arjavh instructed the messenger accordingly. He came back.
“It puzzles me,” I said at length as he sat on a bench on the other side of the tent. “It puzzles me that the Eldren have not conquered Humanity before now—with those halfling warriors I should think you’d be invincible.”
He shook his head. “We rarely make use of our allies,” he said. “But I was desperate. You can understand that I was prepared to go to almost any measures to rescue my sister.”
“I can,” I told him.
“We would never have invaded,” he continued, “had it not been for her.” It was said so simply that I believed him. Either his cunning was so great that I was completely deceived, or else he spoke the truth.
“What are the halflings?” I asked him.
Again he smiled: “Sorcerous ghouls,” he said.
“That is what King Rigenos told me—it is no explanation.”
“What if I told you they were capable of breaking up their atomic structure at will and assembling it again in another place. You would not understand me—sorcery, you would say.”
I was surprised at the scientific nature of his explanation. “I would understand you better,” I said slowly.
He raised his slanting eyebrows.
“You
are
different,” he said. “Well, the halflings, as you have seen, are related to the Eldren. Not all the dwellers on the Ghost Worlds are our kin—some are closer related to men, and there are other, baser, forms of life, too…
“The Ghost Worlds are solid enough, but exist in an alternate series of dimensions to our own. On these worlds, the halflings have no special powers—no more than we have—but here they have. We do not know why. On Earth different laws seem to apply to them. More than a million years ago we discovered a means of bridging the dimensions between Earth and these other worlds. We found a race akin to our own who will, at times, come to our aid if our need is especially great. This was one of those times. Sometimes, however, the bridge ceases to exist when the
I shook my head slowly and drew a heavy breath. “Prepare to defend yourself, Prince Arjavh,” I said.
He shrugged, swiftly brought up the mace against the blow I aimed at him and then brought it down suddenly upon my metal-gauntleted wrist. My whole arm went numb. I tried to cling to the sword, but my fingers would not respond. It dropped from my hand and hung by a thong from my wrist.
With a curse, I flung myself from my saddle straight at him, my good hand grasping, but he turned his horse aside and I fell, face forward, in the bloody mud of the field. I attempted once to rise, failed, and lost consciousness.
I shivered, aware that I was no longer clad in my armour. I looked up. Arjavh stood over me.
“I wonder why he hates me,” he said to himself before he realized that I was awake. His expression altered and he gave me a light smile. “You’re a ferocious one, Sir Champion.”
“My warriors,” I said, “what…?”
“Those that were left have fled. We released the few prisoners we had and sent them after their comrades. Those were the terms, I believe?”
I struggled up. “Then you are going to release me?”
“I suppose so. Although…”
“Although?”
“You would be a useful bargaining prisoner.”
I took his meaning and relaxed, sinking back onto the hard bed. I thought deeply and fought the idea which came to me, but it grew too large in me. At length I said, almost against my will: “Trade me for Ermizhad.”
His cool eyes showed surprise for an instant.
“You would suggest that? But Ermizhad is Humanity’s chief hostage.”
“Damn you, Eldren—I said trade me for her.”
“You’re a strange human, my friend. But with your permission granted, that is what I shall do. I thank you.”
He left the tent. I heard him instructing a messenger.
“Make sure the people know,” I shouted from the bed. “The king may not agree, but the people will force his hand.”
Arjavh instructed the messenger accordingly. He came back.
“It puzzles me,” I said at length as he sat on a bench on the other side of the tent. “It puzzles me that the Eldren have not conquered Humanity before now—with those halfling warriors I should think you’d be invincible.”
He shook his head. “We rarely make use of our allies,” he said. “But I was desperate. You can understand that I was prepared to go to almost any measures to rescue my sister.”
“I can,” I told him.
“We would never have invaded,” he continued, “had it not been for her.” It was said so simply that I believed him. Either his cunning was so great that I was completely deceived, or else he spoke the truth.
“What are the halflings?” I asked him.
Again he smiled: “Sorcerous ghouls,” he said.
“That is what King Rigenos told me—it is no explanation.”
“What if I told you they were capable of breaking up their atomic structure at will and assembling it again in another place. You would not understand me—sorcery, you would say.”
I was surprised at the scientific nature of his explanation. “I would understand you better,” I said slowly.
He raised his slanting eyebrows.
“You
are
different,” he said. “Well, the halflings, as you have seen, are related to the Eldren. Not all the dwellers on the Ghost Worlds are our kin—some are closer related to men, and there are other, baser, forms of life, too…
“The Ghost Worlds are solid enough, but exist in an alternate series of dimensions to our own. On these worlds, the halflings have no special powers—no more than we have—but here they have. We do not know why. On Earth different laws seem to apply to them. More than a million years ago we discovered a means of bridging the dimensions between Earth and these other worlds. We found a race akin to our own who will, at times, come to our aid if our need is especially great. This was one of those times. Sometimes, however, the bridge ceases to exist when the
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