In a Weary World

Chapter XXXI: The Duel

What lies before us? Horrible thoughts arise in my heart. If we had died before today we should have been happy. -- C. S. Lewis, The Last Battle

The Magician had not been idle either. He had had almost the exact same idea as Solvej, and had set out to find a weapon that could help him win. Unlike Solvej, he didn't go to the Sky Queen. He went to someone who he considered far more powerful.

The Dark Lord lived -- if he could be said to live at all -- deep in the ocean, at the bottom of a gaping abyss. He was called the Dark Lord by those who knew of his existence because no one knew anything else about him. No one had ever seen his face. No one knew if he even had one. The Magician had dealt with him on several previous occasions. He was probably the person who knew the most about the Dark Lord, and he still knew very little.

What he did know was that the Dark Lord would be delighted to help him. It would mean the Magician owed him a favour, and the Dark Lord loved to have people in his debt. He could make them do anything he liked when they were in his debt.

The Magician hated to be in debt to anyone. But he needed a weapon that was sure to kill that damn ghost. He wanted rid of her once and for all.

The Dark Lord listened silently to his story. When it was over, he remained silent for a long time.

"And what," he asked at last in a low, raspy voice, "do you want me to give you?"

"Any weapon that can kill a ghost."

"That is easier said than done. You will need to take her by surprise for many such weapons to work. And there is a high possibility that the weapons designed to kill a ghost will be equally harmful to a Magician." Something shifted within the pitch black cavern where the Dark Lord lurked, as if he had briefly contemplated leaving it but thought better of it. "The best weapon you could choose would be a blade forged from the night sky."

The Magician ground his teeth. He had heard of such weapons. He also knew that the Dark Lord had one. But he would not give it to anyone except in return for a tremendous favour.

He forced down his pride and spoke, though the words left a bad taste in his mouth."If I borrow it, what do you want in return?"

The Dark Lord was silent so long that the Magician wondered if he was still listening or not.

"I want access to your lair," the Dark Lord said at last.

The Magician's eyes widened. There were things in his lair that not even his underlings knew about. If the Dark Lord was allowed to come and go as he pleased, he would find them all. That idea made the Magician feel sick and woozy. His mind immediately began searching for loopholes in this request.

"Agreed," he said, even as he thought of ways to get out of his side of the bargain.

~~~~

The day of the duel dawned. Early in the morning the sky was overcast and warned of rain. But after breakfast the clouds began to fade and the sun shone brightly. Hjalmar woke up with a sick feeling in his stomach. The feeling got worse and worse as the clock ticked on. Rigmor staggered down to breakfast with dark circles under her eyes and a haggard expression. She looked almost as bad as he felt. Solvej didn't appear at all.

No one spoke much at breakfast. An air of dread and gloom had settled over the palace.

"I took that potion that will fight off the curse for a while," Rigmor said, speaking for the first time. "Just in case."

She didn't say what it was in case of. They all knew. The Magician might win. She might become his slave. She wanted to keep her own mind for as long as possible before his curse took over again.