Castle Perilous

King’s Study

He had seen enough. A single hand pass darkened the screen and returned the AO> prompt.

He sat for a moment, deep in thought. Then he rummaged in a small plastic filing chest and withdrew a computer diskette, which he inserted into the right-hand drive slot.

“Never tested,” he murmured. “But it should work.”

He hit a series of keys, waited, hit more keys, waited, then sat back.

“I hope,” he added.

He began an elaborate set of hand passes, tracing designs in the air with his fingers. These took some time to complete. Presently the screen brightened again and began to show blurred images.

At last he sat back and took a deep breath.

The screen displayed a face in close-up. It belonged to a man of middle years, dark of eye and strong of jaw, holding a knife blade to his stubbly cheek. He looked directly out from the screen, one eye squinting, blade poised for a stroke. Suddenly his eyes darted about warily.

“Who calls Ervoldt?” he bellowed, looking off-screen. He got no answer, cursed, looked forward again and brought the knife to his oiled chin. Then, startled, his eyes bulged and his head filled the screen.

“Who in the name of all the gods might you be?” he shouted with great annoyance. “And what devilment are ye about inside my shaving glass?”.

“I speak across the chasm of three thousand years,” came the answer.

“Do you? To glower at me as I crop my whiskers? Begone, spirit, and let me be about my business.”

“Hear me, Ancient One. I am human, and as alive as you, though I inhabit a time far removed from yours. I am your remote descendant.”

“Eh? The devil you say.”

“I speak truth.”

The man in the glass scowled and peered outward. “I see you.” He nodded, his expression softening. “You have the family look about you. Three thousand years, say you? The line breeds true.” He stepped back from the mirror. “And still in the family business, I see. What device do you use? Crystal sphere? Far-seeing glass? Necromantic rings?”

“A modification of the second device you mentioned. The refinements involved would be difficult to describe.”

“Doubtless so, after so long a time in which to make such advances.” Ervoldt threw down the razor. “Very well. What do you want?”

“Some advice.”

“Go on.”

Much later Ervoldt nodded gravely and said, “I have always thought that some day the Stone’s secret would be breached. In truth, I am surprised it lasted three millennia.”

“It will last three more with your help. The chief problem, of course, is recasting the spell as soon as possible after my adversaries undo it.”

Ervoldt frowned. “Aye, and you will have the devil’s own time of it. Since I do not know you, I cannot judge your abilities. I do know that the spell involved intricacies that have befuddled many a competent adept. I do not say this to tout my own proficiency. I succeeded only because I undertook the task when the stars were most favorable, a factor others before me failed to take into account.”

The other nodded, and looked away. “I am well aware of the sidereal mathematics you devised. I have your orrery, and have used it many times.”

“Indeed. It has lasted that long? I am honored. But to return to the matter at hand — I can but wish you well. You will need as much luck as I had.”

“Another factor has arisen, one which I am sure you never encountered.”

“Such as?”

“Watch the glass.” He hit a number of keys. The second disk drive hummed.

“What are you doing?”

“I am using the refinements of which I spoke earlier. The calculations should be visible to you.”

“What?” Ervoldt looked off to one side. “Ah! I see.” He studied what he saw. “Very interesting. Yes … yes. I see. You have more?”

A good while passed. At length Ervoldt looked out again at his descendant. “I understand. Yes, I would say you have an advantage here, be your ciphering correct and your surmises true.”

“Would you say that this advantage might offset any unfavorable sidereal conditions?”

“I think it would tend to ameliorate them. Beyond that, I cannot say.”

“It is enough. You have been of invaluable service to me, Ancestor.”

“I am glad. You seem an able young man and a worthy bearer of the family name.”

“Thank you … Grandfather.”

“Before you leave me, one question.”

“Anything.”

“Have you attempted this communication before?”

“No. Have others made contact?”

“Not contact,” Ervoldt said, “but I have had detected strange meddlings, perhaps attempts to observe me. I am not sure.”

“I see. Though I cannot be certain, I think I know who it was.”

“Tell them to bugger off. I value my privacy. To future generations I am the dead. Let me lie, let me rest.”

“My apologies.”

“They are unnecessary. This look into the far future has lightened my heart. Simply to know that there is a future is somehow reassuring. May the gods look upon you with favor. Fare ye well.”

“Farewell.”

A motion of the hand and the screen went dark.

He sighed. Rising from the computer station, he walked the length of the room and stood before a star chart. He examined it, doing a few mental calculations. He shook his head.

“The worst possible time.”

The walls shook again and took on a strange cast. These disturbances had been occurring regularly for the past half hour, but he had been able to ignore them because of certain protections that this particular room afforded. Soon those safeguards would not be enough.

The time had come. He would have to make his way to the lower levels with all due speed and put his plans, such as they were, into immediate effect.