said. “I have thought too much, maybe. Why did Earno’s suspicions take the form they did? Plainly: because, before the spell was placed, they had already taken this form. Before Earno arrived at Thrymhaiam he suspected Morlock of treason.”
“But why?”
“Morlock is an Ambrosius. He is Merlin’s ruthen son and only heir. You are young, Deor—almost as young as Morlock. You do not remember Merlin. But I do. When Merlin finished his apprenticeship with Bleys, there were few in the world who could teach him anything. Those few were the master makers of the Seven Clans. Long he dwelt here under Thrymhaiam, and many times he returned here thereafter to learn and to teach. I came to know him well. And Morlock is Merlin reborn—at least, no one could look at the one without constantly being reminded of the other. So it must have been with Earno.”
“But—”
“Let me finish, Deortheorn. Morlock is now rokhlan, a dragonkiller”—he used the Wardic word—“and for some reason this infuriates Earno, that an Ambrosius should be acclaimed as a dragonkiller. Deep within his memory, too deep for me to read the matter clearly, dragonkilling and Merlin’s exile are closely linked. Earno sees himself always as vocate and dragonkiller, Ambrosius always as summoner, traitor, and exile. But now we have an Ambrosius who is also a dragonkiller, and may one day be a vocate.”
“I don’t understand,” said Deor. “Morlock is not Merlin. And no matter what Morlock achieves, Earno is still rokhlan and summoner.”
“It is deeper than reason, Deor. Morlock and Merlin are both Ambrosius. And it is as if Ambrosius the exile has returned and is taking over parts of Earno’s life. That is how he sees it, at any rate. That is why I say dragonkiller, and not rokhlan—that is the word Earno uses in his own mind; he is besieged by it, barricaded behind it, imprisoned in it. Thus he has identified himself from his first youth—as the dragonkiller. But now he must confront another, claiming the same title. If he does not prove his claim to it once again, and repeat his old achievement of exiling Ambrosius, then Ambrosius may complete his theft of Earno’s life by exiling and supplanting a summoner—Earno himself.”
“Nonsense.”
“Madness,” the Eldest corrected. “Like Ven’s, an induced one. I think that, before the spell took effect, Earno’s deeper feelings were under control; he was willing to treat Morlock at least fairly, though by no means generously. But now the spell has changed his mind. Who can say his sick belief, the madness infesting his mind, will vanish when the spell is loosed? Who can say that it will ever vanish? Its roots are very deep.”
Deor was silent for a time. The problem seemed insoluble. But the Eldest had called him here for a reason.
“What command has been placed on Earno?” he asked Tyr.
“None, so far as I can tell. But it seems that his own latent compulsion about proving himself the sole dragonkiller has taken the place of an external command, fixing the spell in place. He insists on being allowed to go to Haukrull and challenge the master of the guile.”
“Oh. Oh. I see,” said Deor, for he did at last, and looked away.
“I was certain you would," the Eldest said. “Yes, it is a fearful crime. Earno is a summoner, rokhlan, and, more importantly, our guest. We cannot simply send him under the mountains to die. But Morlock is our harven kin, entrusted to us by his ruthen mother and father. We must defend him and we will.”
“One of us must go with Earno, then.”
“Yes. As squire, and guide, and also to ensure that he does go. Thus those-who-watch will see that we are no more sparing of ourselves than we are with Earno. Perhaps that will earn us forgiveness.”
Deor doubted this. But he did not otherwise disagree.
“Only one may go,” Tyr said. “As Eldest that is my word. The Longest War has come again to Thrymhaiam, and no one must be permitted to simply throw his life away. Beyond that, I must consider who may claim the right or obligation to go—”
“I claim both,” Deor said desperately. He turned again to face the Eldest, who seemed as grimly determined as himself.
“The choice surely falls between you and me,” the Eldest replied. “I saw that at once. We will settle the question now, for Earno must be permitted to depart before the sun returns.”
He held out his fist and opened the fingers of his hand. On his broad