CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

THE DEATH-WEDDED BRIDE

Terra awoke quivering like a child. For a moment she thought the past year with all its woes had been a mere dream, for there was Arvis watching over her. She was lying in a bed, having awoken to the rising scream of the kettle and the smell of tea. But her surroundings were different. For a cave there was now a luminous house: light came in through the windows; the snow was falling outside. Arvis too was different. He was gaunt and wraithlike, like a scarecrow, and his countenance was heavy with care.

He smiled when she looked at him, having just finished pouring her tea, and Terra wondered how it was that no man but he could so delight her heart when he smiled, to delight whom was her delight. No man but he, scarred though he was, could show her the nature of loveliness, he who served without need and loved without guile.

"Drink this, and have something to eat," he said. He helped her to the table, broke bread, and buttered it for her as she sipped her hot tea, even though she could have done it for herself. She was not weakened as before when she first woke from delirium to Arvis' tender care. And now she felt the summons of fate come upon her.

"What happened?" she said. "What's going on outside?"

"I'm afraid things haven't gone so well for our friends," said Arvis sadly. "Your friend Calogrent is dead. They say he got cut down by the magitek tanks. The imperialists refrained from using the damned machines for close-range fighting because they're a little indiscriminant in their destructiveness, but King Edgar was doing so well (and I think General Leo left the fighting for a bit and left Kefka in charge) that the enemy set them against us. I hoped these old eyes wouldn't live to see such evil. The way those machines went slicing and dicing and trampling young men underfoot like so many grapes...

"In the end there was nothing the king could do but sound the retreat. The only problem was that they couldn't get the gates shut in time, so now the enemy is in the city. Every hour we're giving ground; we'll be fighting on the mountain soon. I'm afraid this is the end, my dear. The gods have decided not to spare Narsha, or else that we'll all be happier in the next world. I'm just glad we'll all get to go together. My only regret is for you young ones. I should so have liked it if you'd have lived to have children of your own.

"But I'm supposed to show you a secret way up the mountain to meet Banon, where I'm told you'll all make a last stand of it. I just wish it were all over already. I love you so much."

There were tears in his eyes, and in Terra's too. She hugged him mightily. Without a word he helped her into her white cloak. She left the chainmail behind, for it would be a hard climb; and what awaited her at the top, if it were death, no armor could prevent, and if it were life, would not require it. Arvis opened the door and they passed out with heads bowed. Their hearts were too heavy for words. Only the straining slope would suffice to pacify their sad thoughts.

Far away, it seemed, Terra heard the terrible shouts and clamor of war, down away in the city; and in the other direction, the growling, stormy summit of Narsha. Terra looked up, then away. Her heart was still too full of fear to stare it in the face, even though she had now resigned herself to death, and felt the strange sense of liberation that such resolution brings—as if it were not death itself but doubt and uncertainty that held sway in her heart. Without these, what was death? Death was disarmed.

Still Arvis and Terra made a sad march up the climbing slope of Narsha. They went apart from the snow-covered houses, through the trees and between towering stones, on a path hidden in snow. With every aching step—now walking upright, now climbing on hands and knees—Terra felt the heaviness grow in her heart. She Whose coming Terra dreaded came now no nearer, but neither did She depart. She remained a constant threat, though the threat was dulled by certitude of death. She looked over her shoulder, thinking to see someone following them, only to remember that it was Her she felt.

Then, all too soon, Arvis said, "This is where I must leave you, my dear." Terra stopped and looked at him. He showed her the pass she would have to follow to the top. He had taken her hand. He now kissed her forehead (and she in turn kissed his cheek) and watched her as she went on by herself. She turned now and again and found that he still followed her with his sad eyes, downcast in his heart. She could not dismiss the feeling that Arvis had given her away in marriage, and given her to a dark and fearsome bridegroom. Never till the very end of her days did Terra forget the image of the old man standing in the snow, watching over her—a picture of the Father.

Finally Arvis was out of sight. Turning now to the unhappy slope Terra went on in silence up the mount. She looked up briefly at the summit, the point at which all clouds were gathering towards the slow-rotating, cyclonic wreath of cloud which crowned the peak. The wind rose and became bitter cold, and Terra walked in relative darkness. The pressure grew in her head, until she yawned and her ears popped.

But the pass did not take her to the top. It now turned aside and opened out onto a wide plateau above the city of Narsha. There, at some distance, she made out through the thick-falling snow the figures of men. They were Returners and Narshans. She walked towards them, and they watched her without word or movement. A lone woman emerging from the snow. The mountain growled.

There among them stood Banon, head and shoulders above the rest. His aspect was grim and his armor looked like it had seen fighting. His huge ax was notched and bloodied. All the men were panting; many of them had thrown themselves down on the ground once they had reached the top; and many were wounded.

Banon saw her and came over to meet her. "Captain," he said, "this is our last stand. If you can make use of your powers or call upon the aid of the gods, now is the time. I have you stationed over there with the archers. Edgar should be arriving any minute with the imperialists hard on his heels. Here we shall turn and fight to the last man. May the gods grant us mercy."

So saying, Banon of the long strides ranged through the band of men, pulling them to their feet, speaking words of encouragement and stirring the hearts within their breasts to valor and great deeds. Then the Returners remembered their strength, and each man was eager to meet the enemy in the bitter strife. It was not long before each man had his wish.

Through the fast-falling snow came first the sound of war, and then, appearing from behind a rock below them, men came running up the slope. Some slipped as they climbed, and some of those never rose again, for the imperialists came fast behind and stabbed any fallen man, driving out the sad spirit from his body. Terra grieved for them.

Few of the Returners would have made it to the top alive had it not been for man-slaughtering Edgar. Terra picked him out by his red shining armor, and by the broad swath of destruction in his path. Now the sure-footed king cut down the oncoming imperialists backpedaling up the slope, now he turned and ran up to keep the pace with his routed men, holding his shield behind his back to fend off the darts of the enemy, and stripping the life from any soldier who advanced far ahead of his comrades in hopes of killing some stumbling Narshan.

The Returners' numbers were vastly diminished. There could not have been more than five hundred freemen that reached the shelf. The horses could not manage the slope, but neither could the magitek tanks. They would have to take a long detour to reach the plateau.

When Edgar and his men drew closer, Banon, and with him all the men who had already climbed up onto the lip of the wide shelf, let fly their spears far-shadowing. They struck down many imperial troops and ensured that the remnant of Returners reached the top. The imperialists were beaten back and forced to regroup, now that the freemen commanded the high ground. This gave Banon and Edgar time to organize their remaining forces.

Terra looked for her friends, but having heard of Calogrent's death, she had no hope of finding them among the exhausted and wounded Returners. But Banon organized a special rearguard for the purpose of protecting Terra, should the imperialists break through their main front. Terra was happy to find that it consisted of Locke, Celes, and Sabin, among others. They too had seen much fighting, as was evident by their nicked armor and bloodied weapons.

In spite of all the sadness Locke had seen, in spite of the grief in his eyes, Locke managed to give her one of his mischievous grins, and say with a lightness that rose above all the gravity of their predicament, "Well, kid, it looks like this is the end. When we get to the other side, don't be a stranger." Terra was filled with too much sorrow to laugh, but the burden was lightened a little.

Celes said nothing, but looked at Terra with something like pity or desperation in her face. It was impossible to tell.

Sabin, huge in his armor, indeed larger than Edgar his brother and second only to Banon for girth, stood apart from the others. His eyes were closed and he appeared to be meditating, right up to the moment the fighting began.

Standing now far away from the edge, Terra only saw the Returners jump back, no longer able to keep the Empire at bay with their spears, as the horde of furious imperialists overwhelmed their defenses and drove onto the plateau.