yet,’ Prince Nikalon interposed with grisly relish, having rejoined his parents and sister, ‘the Skritek are the oldest race in the world, and sages say all Folk are descended from them. Even you, Immu!’
‘I thought humankind was the most ancient race,’ the Princess said.
‘We did not originate in this world,’ said the Queen. ‘Your Aunt Haramis the Archimage learned that human beings came here from the Outer Firmament uncounted aeons in the past. The Vanished Ones were our ancestors.’
‘What is even more amazing,’ said King Antar very quietly, ‘is that the Vanished Ones used the blood of both Skritek and humanity to fashion a Folk-race that might withstand the Conquering Ice.’
‘But … why?’ The Princess, unlike her older brother, had never heard the story; nor had most other people, for the Archimage had decided that it must be kept secret, except among the royal family and its most trusted confidants.
‘The ancient humans felt guilty abandoning the world their warring had largely destroyed,’ Antar said. ‘You see, Jan, the Vanished Ones believed that the ice they had unwittingly created twelve-times-ten hundreds ago would devour all the world’s land, save for the continental margins and some islands. They thought the Skritek would surely die, leaving the world devoid of rational beings. But that did not happen. The ice failed to conquer after all, and both the Skritek and the new race of hardy Folk lived on together. So did certain stubborn humans who had remained behind when the rest Vanished into the Outer Firmament.’
‘Those aborigines that we call Vispi,’ said the Queen, ‘the high-mountain dwellers who aided your Aunt Haramis in obtaining her talisman and who are now her special Folk, are the result of that long-ago experiment. They are the true firstborn, combining the Skritek and human lineage. Of course they give birth in human fashion, as other high races of Folk do.’
‘But the Vispi are so beautiful,’ Jan said, ‘while the other races of Folk are – ‘ She broke off, realizing how improper it was to speak thus before the old Nyssomu nurse. ‘Oh, Immu, I beg pardon. I did not mean to insult you.’
‘I take no offence, sweeting.’ Immu was calm. ‘To Nyssomu and Uisgu the Vispi appear unattractive. You call them beautiful merely because they most resemble yourselves.’
‘But how, then, did the other races of Folk come about?’ Janeel inquired.
‘Some were engendered through new infusions of Skritek blood,’ said the Queen in a sombre tone.
The Princess thought over the horrid implications of this, and she and her brother were silent for some time.
Then Immu added, ‘Over the ages, fresh human blood also contributed to the racial mixing. In ancient times, humans often mated with Folk. It is just within the last six hundreds that your people began to call mine Oddlings, insisting that we are inferior beings. In other human kingdoms, the disdain for us persists. Only in Laboruwenda are the Folk acknowledged to have souls, and certain of us are granted the privileges of citizenship.’
‘I will see that the nation of Raktum does likewise,’ Princess Janeel stated offhandedly, ‘when I marry Ledavardis and become its queen.’
‘Oh, Jan!’ Anigel exclaimed angrily. ‘You know I have forbidden you to speak of that matter before your Royal Father.’
‘What’s this?’ Antar glared at his daughter. ‘Don’t tell me she still fancies that Goblin Kinglet?’
‘Ledavardis of Raktum is a brave man,’ Janeel said, ‘and no more a goblin than Niki is. Even though his body is not handsome, he is noble of heart.’
‘So you say!’ The furious King spoke to the Princess through clenched teeth, and his blond beard bristled. ‘To my mind, the Raktumians are naught but half-reformed pirates, and no daughter of mine will wed their malformed King! How can you forget that Raktum allied with Tuzamen and the despicable Orogastus to make war upon us?’
‘Ledo fought and surrendered with honour,’ Janeel retorted. ‘And he has ever since then commanded his people to change their old lawless ways and behave in a civilized manner.’
‘Civilized!’ The King’s laugh was contemptuous. ‘Nothing has changed in the pirate kingdom, except now the Raktumian corsairs commit their crimes on the sly, whereas before they were bold as the vipers of Viborn. You shall never marry Ledavardis.’
The Princess burst into tears. ‘You care nothing for my happiness, Father. The real reason why you reject Ledo is your vain hope that I will marry King Yondrimel of Zinora, that scheming braggart. But you will never force me to accept him! Let him marry one of Queen Jiri’s daughters.’
‘Jan, my dearest!’ Queen Anigel hastened to intervene. ‘I beseech you to forbear. This is not the place for such discussion. Let us wait until we reach the next hostel, and – ‘
Her words were drowned out by a colossal thunderbolt. Simultaneously the mireway shook as with an earthquake, and a flash of light blinded all beholders. The rain now fell prodigiously. Shouts arose from the shocked knights, who had withdrawn some distance in order to give the royal family privacy. The fronials shied in terror from the unexpected noise, and the King forgot his anger as he strove to prevent his daughter’s crazed steed from slipping off the road into the swirling floodwaters.
Prince Nikalon was similarly occupied with the distraught mount of his mother. Anigel’s ramping white beast pawed the savage downpour with its split hooves and tossed its antlered head wildly. The Queen regained control only with difficulty after Niki dismounted and clung to her bridle. Several ells away, the young fronial Immu rode lay on its belly near the road’s left-hand edge, shaking with terror, while its rider urged it vainly to rise. But then Princess Janeel’s animal escaped Antar’s grasp and nearly trampled the colt and Immu as it galloped back down the road toward the main column.
Oathed Companions!’ cried the Queen. ‘After the Princess!’ And to her son, ‘Save Immu! Look – the verge of the mireway near her is crumbling!’
Prince Nikalon leapt back onto his mount and went pounding down the rain-lashed road. Leaning from the saddle, he swept up the little Nyssomu woman just as the fronial colt tumbled down the embankment and vanished without a sound into churning muddy water.
‘Bring Immu to me, Niki,’ the Queen shouted, ‘then aid your father and sister!’
Anigel could not understand why the Oathed Companions had not come to the rescue. Her sight of the knights on the road ahead was obscured by the pounding rain and the growing darkness, but she heard their shouts amidst continuing rumbles of thunder and a strange rushing sound. When Immu was safe on the pillion behind her and the Prince gone to Antar, who had halted Janeel’s runaway mount some distance away, the Queen put spur to her fronial in order to fetch the Companions. But the white beast skidded to an abrupt halt after taking only a few bounds.
‘Great God, the road!’ Anigel screamed, looking down from the saddle.
Between the Queen and her knights stretched a steep break in the mireway over five ells wide. It appeared that lightning had blasted the road asunder. High water formerly impounded on one side of the causeway was now pouring through, laden with downed trees and other floating debris. Before Anigel could recover from her astonishment another brilliant flash and a shattering clap of thunder rocked the Mazy Mire, causing her mount to stagger.
‘Hold tight, Immu!’ she cried,
