DARK DESTINY
By DWIGHT V. SWAIN
The Blue Warrior had journeyed far across
the void in his search for power; but he found
death along with it—in the eyes of a goddess!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
March 1952
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Naked, still as death, the veiled woman-goddess men called Xaymarrested on a gold-draped dais within the great, glowing, crystal globe.
Xaymar, queen of storms. Ruler of rain and wind and lightning,empress of all the surging forces that spread their tumult across thesky. Sainted monster, evil savior. Old as time, and young as folly.Born of woman, damned of men, wise with dark wisdom gone astray.
Xaymar, passionate goddess. A word, a myth, a fading picture inforgotten books. A phantasm rising out of these ghostly, gutted cities,these ruins dead a thousand years.
Yet here she lay in this deep-sunk vault, nude save for the short,jeweled veil that masked the top half of her face. Her body stillgleamed like a supple ivory statue, a vision of sleek, ripe-curvedperfection. Rippling waves of jet-black hair framed the pale, veiledoval of her face in a darkly radiant nimbus. A faint rose glow touchedlips and breasts. It seemed almost as if she could have been sleepinghere mere hours only, instead of eons; as if she were still alive andvibrant ... all woman; all terrible, voluptuous promise....
The Shamon priest was bent with age, his face a deep-seamed netof wrinkles. The short cloak of his order, vivid with a hundredcontrasting shades of blue, covered his thin shoulders, and a toloidtablet emblazoned with a stylized representation of a lightning bolt,Xaymar's emblem, hung suspended over his bony chest.
He said: "I want you to kill a woman."
Across the table, the blue warrior called Haral sat very still. He didnot speak.
The old Shamon hurried on: "They say the same, all those to whom I'vespoken—that you alone, of all the warriors here on Ulna, would dareto go against the raider Sark. The rest are brave until they hear hisname; then, quickly, they sing another song. But you—" He hesitated,fumbling, and peered uncertainly at Haral out of rheumy, fading eyes."Tell me, blue one, is it true that you went alone to Eros and slew thetyrant lord Querroon because he'd dared to put a price upon your head?And that then you defied the Federation to try to hang you, and slashedyour way through the whole Federation fleet with your single ship?"
"It's true."
"You see—?" the oldster cried in quavering triumph. "You see it,Sha Haral? You are a warrior worthy of the name! In you there's ironinstead of meal. That is why I come to you to kill this woman—"
"A woman—?" Haral repeated dully. He swirled the fiery kabat in hisglass. "Why should I kill a woman?"
"Because I'll pay you well," the Shamon priest croaked eagerly. Coinsclinked onto the table. "Here, look! Two hundred samori, Sha Haral!So much for such a simple task—enough to send you out again from Ulna,to put you once more on the road to wealth and power, ambition...."
Broodingly, Haral stared down into the kabat's green, too-potentdept