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Authors: John Brunner
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from fire and water, is gradually succumbing to that same hard plain sense on which we of Ryovora traditionally rely.”
“Well spoken!” applauded the margrave. Eadwil cast him a sidelong glance and concluded thus.
“Whether as Tyllwin or himself, Manuus is – was? – a master of chaos. So are we all in lesser degree. But the greatest master of us all has proved to be a simple stranger lacking all acquaintance with the esoteric arts. Colleagues and friends, magic is of the past. Rationality and logic will rule the future.” He bent his gaze below the table. “My feet, I may add, have not pained me since I arrived at this conclusion. So I think I shall forthwith take steps to set right the other disadvantage consequent upon my command of magic. Excuse me.”
And with a hop and a skip he departed in the wake of a saucy-eyed girl who was bearing fruit from the garden to the feast the people were preparing.
Another who stood unobserved among the vines and trellises was a black-clad traveller, whose face twitched into a smile when he heard Eadwil’s words. He did not need to wait longer or listen more.
IX
On that same knoll from which the spokesman of Acromel’s forces had addressed the margrave, Bernard Brown sat with his chin in his hands, staring gloomily at nothing. His dismal contemplation was interrupted at length by one who was not a stranger, who stood before him leaning on a remarkable staff.
“I’ve seen you before,” said Bernard slowly. “Well, who are you?”
The black-clad one chuckled. “He to whom the task was given of bringing order forth from chaos in this corner of the universe. And who are you?”
“I’m not sure I know any longer,” Bernard admitted after a pause. “Until recently I thought I was Bernard Brown, an ordinary sort of person with an ordinary kind of job. But these past few days people have been telling me so repeatedly I’m a god that I’ve almost been convinced of the idea.”
The black-clad man clucked his tongue. “I’m afraid that isn’t true at all,” he said. “So – since I was responsible for involving you with all this – I’d better explain.”
He sat down companionably alongside Bernard, and made a gesture in the air with his staff. A short distance away, in a pleasant meadow, some clinging ground mist cleared to reveal the ruins of a castle, smoking quietly.
“An enchanter called Manuus dwelt there,” he said. “A person with – so to speak – a vested interest in the chaos which formerly pervaded the All. This sort of thing.”
He gestured again, and out of a hill a mile or two this side of Acromel a – a – a … Well, a pair of yellow eyes peered for an instant. What could be seen in those eyes defied description. It made Bernard shudder with amazement and repugnance.
“So where am I?” he demanded. “Or is it a question of when am I?”
“Neither. We are speaking of a borderland between chaos, existing in eternity, and reason, existing in time. At this moment the balance is uncertain, but it is tilting, bit by bit. You have been quite invaluable in tipping it beyond a crucial point.”
“I don’t understand,” complained Bernard.
“No matter. If you did understand the nature of chaos, men being what they are, you would certainly be conceited enough to wish to exploit it. This in fact is what those vain enchanters do: turn the forces of chaos to their own advantage. But, logically, to control chaos with reason is to impose lasting order on it. This implies in turn that sooner or later chaos will reign no longer.”
Bernard’s face exhibited sudden comprehension. “I see!” he exclaimed. “In other words, these magicians or whatever necessarily destroy what they most desire to preserve.”
“You grasp the point exactly,” said the one in black.
“And it’s up to you to ensure things come out right?”
“That is the case.”
“Hmm!” Bernard rubbed his chin. “That sounds like a tough chore. Who
“Well spoken!” applauded the margrave. Eadwil cast him a sidelong glance and concluded thus.
“Whether as Tyllwin or himself, Manuus is – was? – a master of chaos. So are we all in lesser degree. But the greatest master of us all has proved to be a simple stranger lacking all acquaintance with the esoteric arts. Colleagues and friends, magic is of the past. Rationality and logic will rule the future.” He bent his gaze below the table. “My feet, I may add, have not pained me since I arrived at this conclusion. So I think I shall forthwith take steps to set right the other disadvantage consequent upon my command of magic. Excuse me.”
And with a hop and a skip he departed in the wake of a saucy-eyed girl who was bearing fruit from the garden to the feast the people were preparing.
Another who stood unobserved among the vines and trellises was a black-clad traveller, whose face twitched into a smile when he heard Eadwil’s words. He did not need to wait longer or listen more.
IX
On that same knoll from which the spokesman of Acromel’s forces had addressed the margrave, Bernard Brown sat with his chin in his hands, staring gloomily at nothing. His dismal contemplation was interrupted at length by one who was not a stranger, who stood before him leaning on a remarkable staff.
“I’ve seen you before,” said Bernard slowly. “Well, who are you?”
The black-clad one chuckled. “He to whom the task was given of bringing order forth from chaos in this corner of the universe. And who are you?”
“I’m not sure I know any longer,” Bernard admitted after a pause. “Until recently I thought I was Bernard Brown, an ordinary sort of person with an ordinary kind of job. But these past few days people have been telling me so repeatedly I’m a god that I’ve almost been convinced of the idea.”
The black-clad man clucked his tongue. “I’m afraid that isn’t true at all,” he said. “So – since I was responsible for involving you with all this – I’d better explain.”
He sat down companionably alongside Bernard, and made a gesture in the air with his staff. A short distance away, in a pleasant meadow, some clinging ground mist cleared to reveal the ruins of a castle, smoking quietly.
“An enchanter called Manuus dwelt there,” he said. “A person with – so to speak – a vested interest in the chaos which formerly pervaded the All. This sort of thing.”
He gestured again, and out of a hill a mile or two this side of Acromel a – a – a … Well, a pair of yellow eyes peered for an instant. What could be seen in those eyes defied description. It made Bernard shudder with amazement and repugnance.
“So where am I?” he demanded. “Or is it a question of when am I?”
“Neither. We are speaking of a borderland between chaos, existing in eternity, and reason, existing in time. At this moment the balance is uncertain, but it is tilting, bit by bit. You have been quite invaluable in tipping it beyond a crucial point.”
“I don’t understand,” complained Bernard.
“No matter. If you did understand the nature of chaos, men being what they are, you would certainly be conceited enough to wish to exploit it. This in fact is what those vain enchanters do: turn the forces of chaos to their own advantage. But, logically, to control chaos with reason is to impose lasting order on it. This implies in turn that sooner or later chaos will reign no longer.”
Bernard’s face exhibited sudden comprehension. “I see!” he exclaimed. “In other words, these magicians or whatever necessarily destroy what they most desire to preserve.”
“You grasp the point exactly,” said the one in black.
“And it’s up to you to ensure things come out right?”
“That is the case.”
“Hmm!” Bernard rubbed his chin. “That sounds like a tough chore. Who
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