The Forest of Peldain

“Not my largest lie, nor yet my smallest,” Octrago conceded. “In fact, the distance from the coast to the point where the underground river may be reached is fifty leevers, so it is still a uniquely short crossing which moreover leads to the Valley of the Hill Maiden, and thence to the pass over the Clear Peaks. Impossible things are thought of when a realm is imperiled, and I began to contemplate the impossible: a passage through fifty leevers of forest so as to take the fortress from the rear. I don’t know if you are aware of it, but the forest doesn’t actually extend all the way round Peldain. The west coast is an escarpment that rises almost half as high as the Clear Peaks themselves, and then drops straight down into the sea. Such a cliff could never be scaled or climbed, but we succeeded, by means of an ingenious system of pulleys fastened one after the other into the cliff face, in lowering an expedition of rafts and three hundred men into the sea. The plan was to float round the coast to the entry point, and then attempt to penetrate the forest.”

“Did you have fire engines?” Vorduthe asked him.

“No we had nothing of that sort,” Octrago said somberly. “Just some knowledge of the forest. We would never have made it, of course, that is clear now, and in truth it was clear then.”

“What happened to you?”

“We of Peldain have no knowledge of the ocean. We were unable to guide our rafts when faced with wind and current. We were swept out to sea and the rafts became separated. One by one my companions died. As far as I know I alone have survived.

“The rest you know. I was picked up by an Arelian ship and taken to Arcaiss. Then began my second great enterprise—by deceit and persuasion, to induce King Krassos to mount an expedition that could get men through the forest.”

Octrago smiled crookedly as he said this, and Vorduthe felt he now understood all the irony that throughout had exuded from him.

In spite of the hatred he felt for the man, it was impossible not to be impressed by what he had dared, and accomplished.

“So you see, I owe everything to the brave men of Arelia, even though I was prepared to slaughter every last one of you once my object was achieved,” the prince said lightly. “You can be proud of one thing. We are the only men, to my knowledge, ever to journey through the forest from end to end, and live.”

Mistirea had surged to his feet and now stood wringing his hands, his face a mask of emotional torment. “It is untrue!” he protested. “It is untrue!”

For once Octrago seemed genuinely puzzled. Mistirea continued his outburst, in the same agonized tone. “You have it the wrong way round! It is not because I deserted my post that the forest has turned wild! Could I be so remiss, so uncaring? I had already lost control! That was why I left you!”

Briefly he covered his face. “I knew long ago that I was failing. The spirit no longer listened to me. I sent acolytes to north and east, and south over the Clear Peaks. They told me the forest was spreading. And I could not stop it.

“As for Inteke, who was to be my successor, he ceased to make contact with the spirit altogether. Neither did any of the other sensitives meet with any success. It became plain to me what was happening. Peldain has come to an end. We have lived too long within the aura of the lake, of the forest, of the whole land. It has absorbed our psyches to the extent that we can no longer influence it. Another mind was needed; a new, strong psyche that was independent of the soul of Peldain. In other words, we needed a stranger, brought in from outside.

“I tried to explain this to the king, but he would not listen. Unfortunately, Prince Askon, your father is senile. I then broke all protocols and tried to broach the matter with you. I had to be careful with my words, for to be too open would be to sacrifice my life.”

“Yes, I do remember your telling me some nonsense,” Octrago muttered. “I was not interested, of course—the sensitives are always too emotional and distraught. Besides—” he spoke for the benefit of Vorduthe—“this is Peldain, where nothing ever changes. Now that I have been in other lands where events move swiftly, it is more comprehensible to me.” He raised his eyes questioningly to Vorduthe. “He…?”

“No one would help me,” Mistirea said. “No one would listen. I and my acolytes unaided could not find our way across the sea; it needed the resources of a king. Therefore I withdrew, ensconcing myself in the ancient mountain castle. I did this to force a crisis. I was trying to force the king to act and do as I had advised.

“Now it seems my words were still not heeded—and yet matters have turned out as I planned! Despite yourself you were borne across the sea, Prince Askon. Unawares you have brought us the very man we need, if I am any judge.”

Mistirea raised his eyes to the ceiling. “Perhaps there are other gods, mightier than the spirit of the lake. Perhaps they have guided you, so as to save Peldain.”