Of the Ruin of Feyhoth (Fragment)

Of Feyhoth

In the Great Sea in the West of the world, beyond the fortresses of the Giant-folk and the Bay of Bitter Ice, the island of Feyhoth may still be found, looming large and black out of the waves. It is barren now, and not even birds will roost there. Foul mosses and lichens and poisonous weeds choke its once proud rocks, and when at the end of long ages they have had their fill, they will relinquish their claim, and eon-weary Feyhoth will sink at last into the sea from which it came.

But it was not always so.

In the deep of time, before the beginning of any histories which are now written, the island of Feyhoth was fair and pleasant, and the clear waves of the young sea washed its sides clean, and they sparkled white like marble in the day, or glimmered in the red light when the Sun, wrapped in his majesty, went down into the embrace of Night. Most blessed of all lands under the stars it was, for it alone had not been marred or changed by the coming of Vishnarr into the lower world. For this, Vishnarr hated Feyhoth, and hated its people most of all.

Tall and shining were the Trayenri, the Children of Feyhoth, born (so the songs tell us) of the sea foam and the sunlight as it gleamed across the spray. They were great beyond the measure of our latter days, and long-lived. Howbeit they were not deathless, lest they should not think upon their end.

They were masterful in all skills and crafts which are known among men, and many yet again which are now forgotten. Their chief city was Feyokarr, and this sat glittering like a white jewel upon the northern tip of the isle. Of its glory and its majesty there stands no equal in its latter days, but many are the cities which still bear its memory. So for many undimmed ages before the reckoning of time, the Trayenri had peace. But at last, after Vishnarr had made himself secure in the fastness of the starless South, he turned his eye upon them, for he feared their power and envied their joy.

He sent fair messengers to the Trayenri and sought commerce with them and alliance, and in this manner many of the chief servants of Vishnarr came often in pleasant guises to the court of Feyokarr. So Vishnarr thought to conquer them by his cunning, since he still veiled the full power of his malice until certain other of his designs were achieved.

The Trayenri grew in might in pride, and gained great wealth and knowledge from their alliance with the Lord of the South. They extended their dominion over the shores of the Bay of Bitter Ice, and established great cities upon its shores. They subdued the western kindred of the Giants and made them tributaries, and in all things grew ever more masterful and strong. But they knew not that the summer of their strength was also the winter of their race.

Southern gold and southern gems were not the only gifts they had of Vishnarr in trade. For his servants brought with them the Dark Rites—the hill sacrifices and the worship of Taraun-tarour, the black vulture whose name is Death, and to whom the men of the distant South still make their bloody sacrifices in the night. Some of the chief nobles of Feyhoth adopted the Dark Rites, abandoning the simple faith which first they had from the Sea. And they grew unnatural and cruel.

The Usurpation and Reign of Peiboth

One of these was Duke Peiboth, a nobleman wise in lore and skilled in battle. In those days he arose and overthrew the race of the kings of Feyhoth which had sat upon the Marble Throne of Feyokarr for three eons of the world. The remnant of their kin he drove into the south of the island. There, south of the Theyth Waynpala (Southward Mountains), Duke Hagnor maintained his realm as Peiboth’s unwilling vassal. Now this Duke Hagnor was nephew of the old king, and his nearest relative that Peiboth left alive.

Peiboth established a new city for his dynasty, on the banks of the wide river which flows to the westernmost bay of Feyhoth. This city he called Folorankarr, and he raised its walls and laid its foundations by the art and craft of Vishnarr. The Marble Throne at Feyokarr he cast down, and established in Folorankarr a new throne of gold. And he caused these runes to be graven into the seat of that throne, and written in letters of silver about its base:

Established now my line upon this throne of gold,

Forever shall it last, until the world is old.

But none knew if Peiboth meant that his line would last forever, or if only the throne itself. And indeed, the line of Peiboth endured not more than a generation after him, but the throne remains. It sits in the roofless ruin that was once the great palace at Folorankarr, cursed for the blood that is upon it to watch the ceaseless revolutions of the stars until the ending of the world.

So long-lived were the Trayenri in their glory that it would be too much to tell of the deeds of Peiboth as king—his wars and deeds and decrees. By him was the coastal dominion of the Trayenri greatly extended far south beyond the Bay of Bitter Ice, so that in his pride and in his strength he shook off the yoke of Vishnarr and became a rival and a threat for the dominion of the southern lands, where Vishnarr’s power was strongest. Vishnarr incited the race of Giants against Peiboth, but these were no match for Trayenri arms. In three great campaigns Peiboth defeated them and reduced them again to tribute. So the Giants have long been at enmity with the Trayenri and their descendants, and in latter days great sorrow has come to the Ambori, from grudges rooted in the long-past.

In Peiboth’s later years, his queen, Thoranrai, bore him two sons: Landras, the elder by some years, and Nerias, the younger. The birth of his second son came with great sorrow, for Thoranrai died in childbirth. In the final moments of her life she was gripped by great madness or great wisdom, and with her dying breath she spoke a feverish prophecy:

Dark, fell words for Feyhoth’s folk

Are written in the sky,

And all the world will hear our ruin.

And these two whelps shall bring our doom:

The sons of Thoranrai.

Peiboth was troubled at the loss of his queen, but her words troubled him more. And the songs tell that it was shortly after this that he had a vision from Raos the Star. Raos, who of all the heavenly folk has come most often to men in the hour of their need, warned Peiboth of coming wrath and the ruin of his people. “But is it fixed?” Peiboth asked. “May there not be mercy, even now?”

“The land of Feyhoth is the fairest of all that the Maker has fixed under the sky,” Raos said, “but you have polluted it with the shedding of innocent blood, and the sacrifices you have made in the night to one who is not a god. Look to your household, Peiboth. Mercy and judgment hang in the balance, and both rest with your sons.”

These words Peiboth considered long while the years passed. But his sons grew, and waxed mighty under the sky. And Nerias was humble in his heart and unstained by the wickedness of his times; but Landras grew wise with the wisdom of cruelty and became in all things most like his father in his youth.

The Doom of Peiboth

When King Peiboth was old and full of years, he summoned his two sons before his throne, and in the presence of all of his chief counsellors and nobles appointed this doom: That Nerias, the younger, would succeed him to the Golden Throne when at last he took his leave from the world. Both of his sons were dismayed at his words: Nerias desired no such honors, content with the joys of the hunt and the pursuits of arms. But Landras craved power above all things.

Both spoke out in protest against the will of their father, and both were quickly silenced by his command. He told them of the words of Raos and of the prophecy of their mother, and prayed that Nerias would take the throne and avert the wrath of heaven from his line, and furthermore, Peiboth ended by pronouncing a terrible curse upon any who should seek to subvert his doom.

The Rebellion of Endela

Several years later (but a short while by the reckoning of that people) Endela, a nobleman who had become dissatisfied with Peiboth’s rule, hatched a plot to seize the royal city by surprise and assassinate the old king. Sensing a kindred spirit in the elder of the two princes, Endela took Landras into his counsels, promising to invest him with the throne—but secretly meaning, after some time, to seize it for himself.

At first, Landras gave the offer serious consideration, for he still considered the throne as his right, and it well pleased him to think that right might be restored. But his wife, Yalis, counseled him against Endela, perceiving that Endela meant to use Landras as a puppet through which to wield power. Together, Landras and Yalis plotted to deceive Endela, and reveal his plot, and so win the favor of his father. Landras would be the great deliverer of his house, and none could then justly deny him the succession.

He took his brother Nerias into his confidence, and ordered him to wait outside the city with a hand-picked body of cavalry. The trap thus laid, Landras returned to Endela and accepted his offer, and gave him counsel concerning the time and place the attack should take place. It was agreed that Endela should ride with his men for the city’s Western gate, which was nearest to the palace, and take this by storm. Then Landras, having bribed the palace guards, would dispatch his father and brother. Endela’s men would invest the royal city, and Landras would be placed upon the throne.

When the appointed day came, Endela rode for the Western Gate as planned. But this he found barred to him, and between it and him the large host of the whole city garrison, led by Landras. Behind Endela, the host of Nerias appeared on the crest of a hill, the sun gleaming on gold and silver and polished steel, and the jewels in their helms sparkling like a thousand fiery stars. Then, Landras commanded that the gates of the city be thrown open, and let part his troops to show Endela a clear path into the city. "You have long dissembled, Endela, but maybe after you had given me the throne you would have thought better of it and desired it for yourself. See then, the way lies open to you--if you are bold enough to take it!"

Seeing then that his ruin was all but accomplished, Endela steeled himself and spurred his horse, hoping to fight through Landras' ranks and win the gate. But Landras sounded his horn, and his ranks closed again, and the city's garrison set their spears in rest. And Nerias's horse descended onto the plain, moving like a thunderstorm, and Endela and all his host were swiftly destroyed.

Then King Peiboth, hearing the noise of battle, issued forth from the city and asked what it meant, this slaying of Treian by Treian--had his ancient years not deserved at last the blessing of peace? And Landras answered him: "Oft the price of peace must be paid in spears. But we, the sons of Peiboth, have this day paid your enemies with usery." And then he told Peiboth all that had transpired, save only that he had for a while considered Endela's offer. By this, Landras hoped to win the King's favor  and reverse the doom the king had pronounced.

But the king said: "Strong spears are the weapons of the young, but the mind of the wise is the best defense. It is well, Landras. Now may my heart rest, knowing that Nerias, when he is king, will have so wise a counselor to guard him." There on the field he named Landras Viceroy, and declared that he should hold that office for his brother when the latter ascended to the throne. And Peiboth kissed both his sons, but from that day forth Landras grew in ill-will as he did in secrecy.

The Wooing of Kanle

Then Landras, growing in wroth, began to secretly recourse to the dark arts into which he had been made an initiate in his youth. These deeds had been outlawed, and their practitioners banished, in the latter days of Peiboth. But there were still some who, in secret groves amid the fastness of the hills, still spilled Treian blood in sacrifice, and sang the rites of the Dreadful Vulture*. Of these Landras became chief, and he made the wisest and cruelest among them the stewards and seneschals of all that he owned. Dark arts he thought to use against his brother or even the king, but Yaldis, his wife, counseled him against this. "Your days will be long, my lord," she said, "and to your father the king but a few short years remain until he is gathered unto his fathers. What are those years to you? Your brother Nerias does not wish to be king. I will counsel patience. Wait until your father has gone to what reward awaits him, then speak to Nerias. Methinks he would gladly yield the throne to you."

But Landras said, "Nay, you know not of what you speak. Nerias has no desire to be king, it is true, yet he will in all things be ruled by the final will of my father. No--Nerias would not abdicate the throne unless all the people of the land willed it so, and that they will not do. For the Treian people love my brother even as they despise me, seeing in him the brightness of Feyhoth of old."

"Then we must consider some device by which they may come to see otherwise," Yaldis said, and she sat a long while in thought. Now Yaldis was a cunning woman, and by her arts had become wise in the use of runes by which the hearts and minds of men might be snared, if they knew not that art. Her cruel mind turned the matter long, bending all of her dark thought upon it. When at last she spoke she said, "Is not Kanle, of the House of Hagnor, in the city this day, against the will of her father?"

"What matter if she is," said Landras crossly.

"They say she is the fairest of all Feihoth's children. They say she goes clad only in white, and that her head and feet are bare, and that they gleam with the light of the heavens when she walks at night. They say that when the sky is dark with cloud or storm, that even then a light will shine down from the heavens to crown her brow." 

"They say many things. What matters it?"

"It matters, husband, because the House of Hagnor bears eternal enmity against your father, for that he deposed the old king long ago, and Hagnor is the old king's nearest heir by right."

"The words of women are ever in riddles," Landras said. 

"Then let me make this riddle plain: How would it be if Nerias were made to love Kanle, to desire her, and to take her for his wife?"

"I do not see that the riddle is any plainer. But likely, open war and rebellion. The House of Hagnor has long contemplated it, and the failure of Endela's rebellion has only made them more eager to retake what they believe is theirs. Such a provocation would be the weight which tips the scales."

"A bloody and terrible war it would be, ere it ended, and the man who began it more hated than the man who ended it. And who can say--if Nerias were to fall in the battle? Why then, there would be nothing for it but for your father to acknowledge you as heir." 

Then Landras smiled, seeing at last the means whereby all his ends might be accomplished. "But how do we know that Nerias will love the maiden? Truly she is fair, if all the reports of her be true, yet Nerias is not often in the city, loving better the joys of the chase than those of the court, and he has hitherto had more delight in warfare than in women."

"I have a way which, by my arts, will bring the two of them together in bonds which their youth will not easily master. We may then trust in nature to take its course." 

Thus it was done: Yaldis caused two letters to be written, in hands which resembled those of Nerias and Kanle. These letters professed love and and invited each of the hopeful lovers to a secret tryst in a lonely garden at the city's heart. And by her arts she caused such runes to be scribed on those letters that whoever first read their words would be filled with a burning desire of love. These Yaldis caused to be delivered by secret and unknown messengers to the chambers of Nerias and Kanle.

Nerias, when he received the letter, long debated in his mind. For he knew the House of Hagnor had no love for him, and yet he desired for all of that to go and see whether Kanle's beauty was all that song and rumor made it to be. Then too, the words which Yaldis had caused to be written were sweet, and his young heart swelled with pride to think on how the young maiden had praised his valor and his prowess in battle. At last, whether because of the enchantments of Yaldis, or because of the eager pride of youth, or out of a desire to look upon this fairest of women, Nerias resolved to go and keep the Tryst.

Going then to the place of meeting, Nerias sat in the garden under a Rowan tree and waited for Kanle. And long he waited, for she was uneasy at the words of the letter which she believed he had sent, for she knew in her heart that her father would be displeased if he knew, and that ruin might come of it. But at last she too had given in--whether to the passions of youth or the enchantments of Yaldis, who can say?--and came to meet him in the garden, her face shrouded in a purple veil. But she could not conceal her eyes, which burned with the light of the Star-folk of old, and when Nerias saw the light that was in them he rose, and bowed, and kissed her hand, and sang to see the light in her eyes:

"Hark! Can this be a dream which now I see?

Which shimmers, as the stars of all the skies

Had left their shining thrones above the sea

And come to shimmer solely in her eyes?

"But waking wisdom tells me dreams should lie,

Yet how could beauty's light be less than truth?

If the waking world is thus compound of lies,

Then it is dreams which lead us on to truth.

"So wake me not to darkness, ruin, and ruth,

Where no Kanle walks to light my weary way,

For Nerias will dream away his youth

Beneath the spreading Rowan tree he'll stay.

"I would wait forever in this place,

For but once glimpse of her celestial face."

Then Kanle blushed to hear those words, and from that moment her heart was knit to his, and the enchantment--whether of Yaldis' doing or of love's strong bonds--was complete at last. She lowered her veil, and blushed modestly, and Nerias looking upon her face loved her well, and kissed it. There beneath the quiet Rowan tree the lovers plighted their troth, and many secret things they whispered to each other in the way that lovers will--silly things, we would think, yet gravely serious in the moment in which they were said. At last they parted, pledging as they did so to keep the tryst again ere the new moon. So things went on for some time, and they thought it well. But Landras and Yaldis knew all that was done, and they knew it would not be long before Hagnor knew as well--as soon he did.

The Wrath of Hagnor

Now in addition to his beautiful daughter, Hagnor had three sons, and their names are well-remembered in the songs of the Children. The oldest of his sons, and greatest in size and in strength, was Tahei. Tahei was a mighty warrior, of whom it was said that bands of steel and of brass were as nothing to the strength of his hands or the might of his arms. No armor wore Tahei, for he went clad always in the skins of beasts, of lions and bears, and these whom he had slain in the hunt with his bare hands. In battle he bore a great shield, all encrusted with seven diamonds and twenty-one emeralds and twenty-eight sapphires, as all the songs do sing. In his right hand he wielded a great black axe which clove both steel and bone as one. Kareth was the next, tall and lithe and strong, the most cunning of the three brothers and the twin of the fair Kanle. 

Last-born of the House of Hagnor was Lanenomen, and he was scarce a youth when the great deeds of that time began. He was as renowned with the harp as with the spear, but he loved the bow above all other weapons. Sure-handed and keen-eyed was Lanenomen, and though he were the youngest of Hagnor's sons, his star was destined to rise far above the ruin of those forgotten days.

It was in this manner that Hagnor first discovered the love between his daughter and Nerias the prince: Kanle would now often visit the great city where haughtily her father would not deign to go, or else ride into the countryside to meet her lover in some shaded grove of the trees. These expeditions she always excused saying that she had errands abroad to visit her kin in the suburbs of the capital. But Hagnor and his three sons liked this answer ill, and on a time Hagnor sent forth his senaschal, Amunpelei, to spy on Kanle and see where it was she rode and who she met. For already he thought that perhaps she had taken some secret lover; howbeit he did not yet guess that it was the son of his greatest enemy. When therefore he heard the report of his steward he was wroth, and commanded that Kanle be locked away in her chambers. And after a time he came to her, meaning to reason with her, saying:

"Would you cruelly dash all the hopes of this family upon the treacherous rocks of a usurper's shore? For I have had news that you have found comfort in the arms of the son of Peiboth, and that he has stolen from me that flower which I most prized, to enjoy it in secret ere he casts it aside in search of some fresher blossom."

But Kanle spoke proudly: "It was not taken, but given freely, my lord. Nor was it any but mine to give."

"Silence! You will not speak unto my father so! Know that you are forever cut off from him, Kanel. Banish him from your heart, this thief, this wretch, this pretty prince. The Usurpers have already taken enough away from Hagnor's house!"

Then seeing her father was wrathful, and certain of purpose, Kanle fell down and clutched the skirts of his robe and said: "Nay, do not say, 'Banish him from your heart.' For to banish him is to banish all thought, all light, and all joy. What the heart has loved it may not learn to unlove again, not though the whole world should be whelmed in the flood, and the land blasted and left barren by the cruel sun."

"Let it be so," Hagnor cursed, knowing not what he said, "if any thing of mine be given into the Usurper's house." Then his mood softened somewhat, seeing her tears, and he said: "But Kanle. Do not think I am wholly insensitive to your plea. You are young, and mayhap you cannot yet know good from ill, and you were undefended against this seducer's wiles, his pretty talk and courtly airs. Go now to your chambers, but do not leave my house again. You may forget his this knave in time, and then we may find you a suitor who is more fit for your noble blood." Then Hagnor dismissed his daughter, and bethought him of noble alliances which might be strengthened by the gift of his daughter. 

But Kanle went to her chambers, and lay long in a fit of torment. For the love of Nerias was still hot in her veins, and the words which her father had spoken--but especially the last--had wounded her to the heart. Then at last she rose, and called for a dagger, or a cup of compounded poisons, or an adder which she might take to her breast and by its sting sooth the pain which burned there. But hearing of it, Amunpelei the seneschal came to her, for he greatly regretted the part of tail-bearer which he had been made to play. Well might that man, unfaithful a servant as he was a friend, regret forever the part he had and would play in the tragedy of Hagnor's house. By his contrivance the lady Kanle was dressed in the clothes of a menial, and passed out of her father's gates, and came to Folorankarr, and there met her lover again. There they were married in secret, beneath the groves of the palace garden, and there they lay together under the stars. And Landras and Yaldis knew of it, and rejoiced secretly, seeing their long designs coming to fruit; but as yet the king did not know.

The Challenge and Revolt of Hagnor

When Hagnor at last learned of his daughter's flight, he was filled with wroth. Arming themselves, he and his three sons came at once before the king, demanding Kanle's return. When first he heard of it, Peiboth disbelieved the tale, and thought it only some device of Hagnor's house to trouble him in his old age. "Do not think," said he, "that you may thus enter my halls and slander the Prince Royal and leave again unharmed and unbloodied. Hagnor's sons are mighty, it is said, but would they be mighty enough to withstand all the stern men of Folorankarr who would resist them at my command?"

But Hagnor was defiant. "Command whoever you will. But command first your prince to come forth and let him answer for himself, if he does not cower behind the skirts of your robe, which is likely enough."

"With such words Hagnor, better men than you have deserved the noose."

"Aye, for you have hanged all better men."

Then the king glanced on him darkly, yet he raised his hand, and a servant went to bring Nerias. And when Nerias came, he stooped and kissed his father. Then looking upon Hagnor, he met the defiance of his gaze with a defiance which was not less. 

"What do you, son of Peiboth, say to my grievance?" Hagnor asked proudly. "Where is Kanle, whom you have stolen from me?"

"To your grievance, lord, I say only that it is not as great as that of the daughter whom you have wronged--whom you would have caged like a bird, to sell at your leisure for so many hides of land or heads of cattle. What market would you have sold her in, to sate your geed at the price of your own flesh and blood?"

"Then it is true," the king said gravely, and it seemed again to him that he heard the song of his wife playing, soft and mournful, in the hall. "What the Lord Hagnor says is true?"

And Nerias said, "Nay, lord, for a man cannot steal what was freely given to him. Of Kanle I have stolen nothing."

"Alas," said Peiboth, covering his face, "alas that my son drank the wine of another man's vineyard. But even now things are not beyond repair. Return to him his daughter, my son, and we will pay him a great weregeld for his daughter's maidenhead."

"That I may not do," said Nerias, "for it is not right that a man should cut away his own flesh to please his enemies, and Kanle is flesh of my flesh. It is three nights since we were wed."

Upon hearing this, a fey mood passed over Hagnor, and he drew from his side a sharp dagger, and cast it on the floor before the throne. So great was the force with which he cast it that the tip snapped as it struck the throne, and glancing up cut the king upon the cheek. Then would the guards have seized Hagnor, and there made an end of him, but the king raised his hand again and restrained them.

"The challenge is issued," Hagnor said, his beard flecked with the foam of his rage. "By the custom of our people the issue must now be decided upon the field of battle.

"The challenge is issued," said the king, while the blood ran down on his own thin beard and pooled in the silk of his robe. "But see you look well to your strength, Hagnor, for it may be that you have mistaken our old age for dotage, and my son's youth for folly." He spoke proudly, but in that hour Peiboth the King felt the doom of which Raos had told him laying heavy upon his heart, and indeed, it was at the door. But Landras watched all of these things and rejoiced in his heart, that so far his designs had accomplished even more than his desire. For in the great battle upon the plains, there would be many a stray arrow and careless stroke, and who could then say what might befall the heir the king had named?

But when Kanle heard of the challenge she was filled with dread, and for the second time she was torn in her heart, wondering if even now she might return to her father and avert the certain death of those she loved. But when Nerias heard this, he said to her, "That you may not do, for even if your father would yet forgive you--which I doubt--a challenge so issued must be answered, and I and my father and brother must issue forth in strength. For in the flinging of the dagger Hagnor has raised the standard of revolt against our house, and only blood may now decide the issue."

"It had better be my blood, then, for else I will lose either my father and brothers or my husband, and no issue of this battle can bring me joy."

Nerias smiled and kissed her, and said: "And yet your blood would be too high a price, my love, and the stars themselves would weep for the injustice, and drown our land in the sea to avenge the death of Kanle." Yet he knew not of what he spoke.

The Battle of the Red and the Blue; The Death of Peiboth

It was not long before Hagnor and his sons gathered their forces in revolt against Peiboth, and marched upon Folorankarr with a great host of men on horse and on foot. Peiboth himself stood upon the highest balcony of his many-terraced palace and gaze out over the city and the walls as the forces which were arrayed against him, and greatly the rued the ambition and pride which had brought them to this place. "They say the words of dying men will ever find their mark. If that be so, how much more the last prophecy of a dying queen? It is as Thoranrai my wife foresaw; ruin has come upon my realm from my two sons, but most of all by means of him on whom I placed my last and greatest hope."

"Say it not, O King," his esquire said, "for you have still the strength of a king, and are master of your realm as long as you may sit in the saddle."

"Strength I have," said the king, "but the treachery of a friend may strike deeper than the sword-stroke of an open foe." And he spoke of his own death, though he recked it but dimly, for a gray mist was upon him which his will had not the strength to lift. Then Peiboth went forth to his last battle, and his armor shone of gold, and was cunningly inlaid with diamonds in the device of the great Sea Eagles which fly far beyond the lands of men, and his helm was in the manner of an eagle's head, and his crest was of great eagle feathers a cubit long. Peiboth rode at the head of the company of the king's guard, coming up from the great gate of the city.

Nerias rode at the head of a great company of horse, which were gathered from the eastern provinces and who formed the right flank of Peiboth's battle. And Nerias was clad in glittering mail wrought like fish's scales, and the crest of his help was as a great sea serpent's head. He set his long, keen lance in rest, and his fell curving sword hung at his side. And Nerrias's eye was yet undimmed by the darkness which came after, and he sang in his saddle as he awaited the coming press of battle, for he was young and eager to redden his spear in the blood of his foes. But Landras rode at the head of the great company of the king's archers, and his armor was cunningly wrought, though in appearance it was no different than that of the meanest soldier of his company, for by this Landras meant to avoid the wrath of the great sons of Hagnor, and of Tehae in particular, who fought like a mad lion at the front of his men, and ever sought to cut down the enemy commander for the increase of his own glory.

So Peiboth and his sons, and opposed to them Hagnor and his three valiant sons, every one of them tall and shining, and in the dark raiment and silver mail of Kareth and Lanenomen, the memory of Feihoth of old lived still. Now the livery of the host of the king was azure, but the livery of the House of Hagnor was a deep scarlet, and ever afterwards it become a proverb among the remnant of the Starfolk, when two things are at cross purposes, that they are as opposite as Red and Blue. Then the horn was sounded, and the host of Hagnor pressed the assault, and the clash of their arms when they met the line of the king's battle was the greatest which had been heard in the world since the day of its beginning. And at first, by reason of the great onset of their attack and their hot wrath against their oppressors, the men of Hagnor's house carried the day and the host of the king was driven back nigh unto the gate of the city. And Kareth rode in the van, and slew all of the king's champions which might stand in his way.

The Nerias spurred his horse onward and raised his gleaming spear on high and said, "O Kareth, that art to my blood so lately joined, turn back from thy ruin, before the fair blood of the House of Hagnor is spilled before the gates which guard her whom thou and I love best."

But Kareth charged in wrath, smiting a blow upon Nerias's helm, and said, "guard now with manly strokes that which you stole from my father's house by feckless guile." Nerias's helm showered with sparks as the blow hit, and the sword of Kareth glanced down upon Nerias's steed, and slew it, but Nerias recovered from his daze and leaped aside nimbly as the great charger rolled. Then he thrust up with his spear, and the shining head and shaft pierced the mail haubker of Kareth, and hot purple gore stained his surecoat, and he fell dead unto the earth. Then Nerias mounted up upon the steed of Kareth and rejoined the battle. But no matter how Nerias encouraged his men, by deeds of arms, by promises, by threats, by cajolery, they could not be roused to greater valor against the men of Hagnor's house, and soon the king's whole battle was pressed hard against the wall of the city.

Then Peiboth, seeing his ruin come speedily upon him, spurred his horse and hewed his way singly towards the standard of Hagnor, outpacing all his knights. And there, in the press of battle, the two aging rivals met for the last time. No words passed between them that day, for their hatred for one another had lost the use of words long ago. But they traded heavy strokes, such strokes as had never before been seen upon the Isle of Feyhoth, and hewed off great pieces of each other's armor, and shattered their shields against each other's weapons. Then Peiboth raised his sword and smote with all the strength which remained in him, and the blow clove Hagnor's helmet. A great gout of flame leaped up then from Hagnor's head, and he fell to earth in a smoking ruin. Then Hagnor's bodyguard closed around the king to hew him down, and he won away only with much toil, and with the aid of his knights who had rejoined him, but in the press the king was dealt a terrible blow, and many thought it mortal. Then the king said, "Now is the hour of my death at hand. Let me see my sons before I die."

But Nerias was entangled thickly in the press of battle, and by no means could the herald reach him with the word of his father's death. So it was that only Landras came to his father's tent, and seeing him so wounded, sent the servants forth, and said, "A! My father! It is an ill fate which has brought you to this hour."

"All fates have been ill for me since I turned my face away from heaven, and now it seems that to repent too late is to not repent at all."

"Of one thing you might still repent, my father. You chose the wrong son to be your heir. See all the ruin which has come by Nerias's dalliance with the daughter of Hagnor."

"It may be as you say, and yet maybe it were better for Feyhoth if a son of Hagnor were king of the Treianraal."

Then Landras looked keenly at him, and stooping low over his father's bed, said, "No son of Hagnor will sit the throne, but a son of Peiboth the mighty, he who fell in battle from a grievous wound, and who died ere the surgeon might search it." And so saying he thrust a long dagger into the king's wound, and the kings heart burst, and he died. Then Landras went forth from his father's tent and let it be known that the king had been injured more grievously than before was known, and that he had died of his wounds.

The battle continued on in great confusion until the coming of night. Then Tehae, who was now in command of the rebel forces, drew off to their camp to await the rising of the sun. In the royal camp, Landras and Nerias gathered the captains of their host together to mourn the death of the king and plan how they might array their battle for the coming day, for the hosts of Hagnor's house seemed as yet unwearied, and their numbers were great.

"The night is darkening," Landras said, addressing the royal captains, "and our need is dire. The king lies fallen, wounded by a treacherous blow of the enemy, and all men fear the great axe of Tehae. I do not doubt our valor, but were our numbers twice what they are I would not give the least of the treasures of my house against our chances of seeing another sunset. It is time that we bethought ourselves of other measures."

"What stratagem," asked his brother, "would you devise, that could ensure our victory on the morrow? For my heart is equally full of foreboding about the morrow. I have ever moved about the field wherever the fighting was thickest--did I not slay Kareth, the son of Hagnor, and is it not his mount which now I ride into battle?--and I have in mind a stratagem of arms which might confound the forces of our enemy."

"No might of any earthly arms will avail against Hagnor's host. Tell me, lords of Feyhoth, and you my brother, how might it be that any man should wound the godlike Peiboth? And how that any force, be it all the fleet and might of the Lord of the South, should triumph against the armies of the king of Feyhoth before the gates of their own city? Is it not be treachery, by dark magick, that this thing is done?" And the lords murmured at this, but one asked, "And what then would you have us do?" And Landras said, "Fight their magicks with stronger magicks. I know by my art the means by which the fallen of Treianraal might rise again and as fell shades, avenge the shade of our fallen king."

Then the lords of the Treians were astonished. But Nerias furrowed his brow darkly and said, "Such power as you speak of is not to be spoken of lightly by any among us, let alone wielded."

"Aye," said Landras, and his eyes were blazing, "but I am the son of Peiboth Mighty, and he was great and learned in lore and the dark arts long ere his falling! Think not that I fear to name the Devourer, nor to invoke his dread rites! For I have stood and heard secret councils in the hills, and I have seen the Black Wings descend to greet the screams of the victim ere the moon rose at night."

But Nerias liked this not, and for the most part the lords of the Treianraal took his side, for Peiboth having fallen they regarded Nerias now as true king. But some there were who secretly took Landras' part, for they had been with him at the forbidden rites and had fallen under his sway. Howbeit, such things Peiboth had forbidden in his realm long ago, and so none dared openly own their deeds. Then one of the lords said to Nerias, "The counsel of one son of Peiboth we have heard. But what counsel does Peiboth's heir give?"

"My counsel is this," quoth Nerias, "that the men of Hagnor's house are every one of them like a lioness which is robbed of its cubs. And although the men of my father's house are strong men and brave, few among them have the ferocity to match these wild men of the hills. We must not therefore engage them singly in combat, nor allow ourselves to be drawn into contests with their champions. Let our footmen fight shoulder-to-shoulder and shield-to-shield, and let long spears be leveled at the front, so that when these fierce men hurl themselves upon us they will break as the waves break upon the rocks. Let every man ward with his shield his neighbor on his left, and thrust with his spear at the foe on his right. We will match strength of mind to strength of arm. This, and not the forbidden arts, will grant us victory in the field."

Then all approved Nerias's plan, save Landras and those that took his part--but Landras held his peace, for already he saw how he might take revenge upon Nerias as he had upon Peiboth. "Many are the mischances of battle," he thought to himself, "and the arrow of a friend has sometimes struck falsely." When the next morning came, Nerias drew his troops up in a tight formation, and the men of the royal household met the charge of Tehae's host with silent resolve. And everything was as Nerias had said--the men of Hagnor's house broke as waves break upon a rock, and uselessly they spent their fury against the wall of shields. Then Nerias gave the order to sound to advance, and the phalanxes of Nerias cut through Tehae's host like a reaper's scythe.

Then Tehae, seeing he was undone, strode to the front of his ranks, roaring like a lion, and challenging Nerias to come out and fight him singly to settle the matter between them. When Nerias would not come, Tehae railed against him, calling him thief and coward, a polluter of the daughters of just men. Then Nerias was wroth and would have taken his challenge, but his captains restrained him, for they knew none might stand against Tehae in battle. Deeming his challenge unheeded, Tehae turned in his wrath upon the phalanxes of Nerias, driving hard upon them in his wrath, and the head of his axe blazed with a sudden flame. And many of Nerias's troops were sore afraid, and wherever Tehae's great roar was heard and his blazing axe was seen, the royal troops forgot their discipline and broke their ranks. At this, Nerias would be restrained no longer, and mounting his steed rode forth to meet his foe.

Spurring his mount to a gallop, Nerias rode hard down upon Tehae, meaning to trample him to the earth in the impetus of his charge. But Tehae was a master of horses (although he scorned to fight atop one) and had had the care and raising of all the warhorses of his father's house. So when he saw that Nerias was riding atop Kareth's mount, he gave a shrill whistle, and the stallion overthrew Nerias, and laid him out upon the battlefield. Then Tehae roared with laughter, and all the host of the rebels mocked Nerias. But Nerias stood and, catching up his sword, set upon Tehae so vigorously that for a time Tehae was forced to give back. Then Tehae clove Nerias's shield with his axe, and Nerias, staggering forward, thrust heavily at Tehae's face. But Tehae leaped nimbly aside and hooked Nerias's sword with the beard of his axe, flinging it far away from the prince.

Then Nerias gave a desperate cry and drew from his side a dagger. And Tehae laughed and set his axe aside and drew a dagger of his own, for he was famed as a wrestler, as everyone knew. The two warriors grappled, and long indeed was the struggle, but in the end it looked as though Tehae would have the upper hand.

But Landras was standing a long way off from the fight, and as they grappled he drew a rune-scored arrow, a poisoned shaft which he had prepared through the terror of many nightly vigils alone in the hills, and into which he had poured his malice and his hatred for his brother. He loosed the shaft, intending with it to strike down his brother from a distance. But the shaft was treacherous, as well to its shooter as to its target, and it struck Tehae as his arm was raised to smite Nerias' death blow. Then all praised the shot, but Nerias was angry for a time that the fight had been thus dishonorably won.

When the men of Hagnor's house saw this, they were greatly frightened, being leaderless (for already Lanenomen had fallen in the battle, and many believed him dead, though afterwards the Star Raos came to him and healed his wounds, and sent him away into the East, and so this tale has come to us). And they fled the field, being scattered before the host of Nerias. But Nerias wept for his father.

And when Kanle heard how all of this had passed, and heard that her father and her three brothers were dead, she cursed herself and said, "Now am I become the ruin of all my father's house, and the sons which I bear will hate me, and they will seek vengeance upon their father, and never again will my heart know peace in this life." And taking a dagger, she smote herself in the breast, and she died.

This is only a fragment of a longer text still remaining to be translated, which tells of these things and after them, of the abdication of the grief-stricken Nerias; the unrighteous reign of Landras and war with Vishnarr; the unheeded warnings of Raos; the Ruin of Feyhoth.