Warlock

better to suffer guilt for a lifetime over the indirect death of your mother than to slaughter tens of thousands and never understand the depth of your degeneration!
        
        “Now south!” Richter was saying. “Well see what we can do at the Darkland port cities along the way, now occupied by Oragonians. But our chief mission will be to enter the fjord and dock by Summerdown. We can give the General support and help him retake the lands that are ours!”
        
        “And you, Shaker,” Richter said. He gathered Mace and Gregor beside the magician. “Three fine comrades on a terrible journey. We will never lose touch when this is finished, hey?”
        
        “We won't,” Sandow agreed.
        
        Already, the sorcerer had begun to speculate that the shattered cities beyond the Cloud Range might hold some bit of information, some train of knowledge which would help to stem the tide of war. As of this moment, Sandow saw war stretching infinitely onward, far into the future-until there would be one great war again, followed by another Blank when history would be lost and men would have to work back from disaster with simple tools and simple understanding. But he was no longer as much of a pessimist as he had been even moments ago. Perhaps there was a way to change the course of events this time. He was an esper, after all. Perhaps there was some way to discover how to amplify his power, to enlarge it. If such a force of sorcerers should band together in the cause of peace, all yet could be saved. And in the course of whatever the future held, Solvon Richter might prove to be an invaluable ally. True, now he did not see the horror of this distant murder. But one day he would. And he would remember Shaker Sandow and he would be there, wondering what he might do to help.
        
        “When the tide has turned in this battle and Oragonia is driven back, I'll see to it that you are returned to the east, to spend your time in the scientific study of those ancient fragments. It should not be long. I think the war can be won in less than weeks now that we have cut off their link to the modern weapons in the eastern city.”
        
        “I would prefer to rest some months before returning there,” Sandow said to Richter.
        
        “What? You, the sorcerer with the hunger for knowledge that drove him to risk his life? Now that it is safe to study there, you prefer staying home?”
        
        Sandow smiled, thinking of Perdune. The winters between the mountains are magnificent, Commander Richter. The snows eventually sweep across the roofs, and we Perdunians are forced to remain within our houses lest we freeze in the fierce winds of winter. We must amuse ourselves with our families, with games of cards, with the making of jewelry and other such pastimes. Yet there is something to be said for the quietude, something quite unexplainable. You must have lived the winter in Perdune to understand it.” He paused for a moment, as if reluctant to speak the last words, then went on: “And I fear that winters like this, in Perdune, are few. Soon, there will be ways to clear the snow, ways of keeping warm and safe in even those inhospitable months. And we will embrace these things and call them progress and pretend that we are losing nothing.”
        
        Richter looked perplexed. But Mace was smiling sadly. The giant understood exactly what his master had said. Sandow realized that Mace also had grasped the significance of these sophisticated weapons which had been used this night Gregor's face was partially possessed by a look of incomprehension. But only partially. He too was beginning to understand what the future must be, though he would require a few more weeks of worrying at all he had learned on this trek.
        
        The darkness of ignorance had been speared by light. Knowledge and light lay ahead. But in the background, the forces of darkness built their strength, flexed their muscles and waited for the right moment to strike. In the years to come, the slim sorcerer would have to wage his own war-against war and ignorance. And after him, Gregor too.
        
        “But now,” Shaker Sandow said, taking the arms of his two sons, “let us sleep for just a little while.”

     

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    Dean Koontz - Warlock

    [Version 2.0 by BuddyDk - august 3 2003]

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