Denner's Wreck

Chapter Six

“The Lady of the Seasons spends every year in search of her lover-though who that lover might be differs depending on who tells the tale, I fear, for the facts are not known to those of us condemned to someday die. Some say that it's Geste the Trickster, whose wandering soul cannot be held even by the love of a Power greater than himself. Others maintain that it's Rawl the Adjuster, and that his sense of justice drives him forth for three seasons each year, to correct the wrongs of mankind and to return only during those bright wakes of spring when all's right with the world. Still others say that it's not one lover she wants, but many, and mortal-that each year she picks anew, but that those she chooses cannot survive her attentions for long.

"Whatever the truth is, in the summer she dwells in the north, holding back the cold and wind, waiting patiently for her love to return. When he comes not, and she grows angry at his dawdling, she moves to her western home, and her rage blasts the leaves from the trees, withers the crops, and drives the sun away, bringing autumn upon us.

"When her fury can no longer be sustained she yields to despair and flees to the south, where she can weep unseen, and the whole world lies cold and dead beneath unchecked winter.

"And there, at last, her love finds her again, and takes her to their bower in the east, where their love brings springtime back to the land…"

– from the tales of Kithen the Storyteller

“Where are we?” Bredon asked shakily as the platform finally slowed and began its descent. They had soared up across the mountains, across peaks wrapped in snow despite the lingering summer, across heights Bredon had never imagined and drops-into canyons, over cliffs, down rubble-strewn slopes-that he had only considered in his worst nightmares. He had lived his entire life on the plains; to be able to look down at treetops, without so much as a railing between himself and kilometers of empty space, was terrifying-but oddly exhilarating, as well.

Most strange and wonderful of all, he had felt not the slightest gust of wind or change in temperature the entire time. This dealing with Powers was an awesome thing.

“That's Autumn House ahead,” Geste said, pointing. “It's just about the time of year when Sheila opens it for the season, and I thought Sunlight might have come to help. She often does. And if she hasn't, Sheila still might know where Sunlight is. If Sheila's here, that is."

Bredon followed the pointing finger and saw a rambling structure that straggled down from a hilltop in a succession of wings and terraces. Autumn House was larger than his entire village. Even if Lady Sunlight were somewhere in it, he thought, it might take hours to find her.

The prospect of seeing Lady Sunlight again, of perhaps speaking to her, was, like the ride through the air, both frightening and exhilarating. His memory of her beauty stirred his lust for her anew, and he forced himself to stay calm and think of other things. “Who is Sheila?” he asked, his voice a little steadier this time.

“I believe you call her the Lady of the Seasons,” Geste replied.

“Ah.” Even Bredon had, of course, heard of her. She was a major Power, who lived in the east in the spring, the north in summer, the west in autumn, and the south in winter. She was said to control the weather, among other things; the spring rains did not come until she had moved from south to east, the grass did not turn brown until she had gone from north to west, and so forth.

Bredon had always considered this to be unlikely, but he had never argued the matter or come up with a better explanation for the turning seasons. He had accepted the Lady of the Seasons as a metaphor or a symbol, and had left the question of her existence open.

It had never occurred to him that she might not only exist, but would have a name, as well as a title, and he would certainly never have guessed she might bear so simple a name as Sheila.

Of course, that name might just be a nickname Geste used.

It had also never occurred to Bredon that he might someday meet her.

He was reminded again that he was here, in mid-air, dealing with the Powers directly and familiarly-not just people with mysterious powers, but the Powers. This was not just an immense mansion, it was the supposed home of autumn itself. He stared at Autumn House for a moment longer, then stole a glance at Geste.

Geste was whispering, though there was no one on the platform save the two of them. Bredon thought for an instant that Geste was talking to him, then that Geste was talking to himself, and finally decided that he was talking to someone or something that mere mortals could not see or hear, a familiar or spirit of some sort.

“We could call ahead now and tell Sheila we're coming,” Geste said aloud. “And if Sunlight is here she wouldn't be able to slip away without our seeing her-at least, not easily-but I think it should be fun to surprise them. I've arranged for our approach to be silent and unheralded, no courtesy announcements or alarms or anything. I haven't done anything very fancy, so I suppose the guards will spot us, but they know me, and we shouldn't have any trouble in just walking in."

Bredon nodded. It was all the same to him, however they approached. He had no idea what the proper protocol might be, or what might best win Lady Sunlight's favor; he was simply following Geste's lead. He was trusting the Trickster with his life-but then, could the Lady of the Season's guards be more dangerous than flying through the air on an open platform? He had already trusted himself to that.

Well, yes, he supposed they could be more dangerous, but he was resolved to trust Geste.

The platform passed smoothly over the roof of Autumn House and settled gently onto a broad stone-paved terrace, a few meters away from a wide-open doorway. Bredon saw no guards, nor any sign of life whatsoever. On two sides, the north and south, he saw forested mountains in the distance and nothing else. To the west he had a magnificent view of foothills tumbling downward, row after row, and sinking at last into a vast, desolate plain-not a grass-covered prairie like his home to the east, but a golden expanse of wasteland. He was too far up to make out any details.

On the fourth side, the east, stood the stone and timber walls of Autumn House, broken by several large openings into the dim interior.

The air around them, which had been utterly still, was suddenly moving across them in a cool breeze.

“Come on,” Geste said, stepping off the platform and beckoning.

Bredon, breathing deeply of the fresh mountain air, followed the Trickster across the terrace and through an open doorway into the largest, most luxurious room he had ever seen.

The houses in his native village were walled with various kinds of brick or woven grasses and roofed with thatch over timber. Timber was scarce and expensive in the grasslands. A room more than four meters across was a rare extravagance; his parents’ home had none over three.

This room was easily ten meters across and twenty meters long. Wide windows took up most of three walls, using as much glass as half his village-the openings he had seen from the terrace, save for the single doorway they had entered through, were all such windows, and Bredon marvelled that they could be made so large and yet not have the glass collapse of its own weight.

The floor was stone, matching the terrace, but much of it was hidden beneath fur rugs. Looking at the rugs Bredon could not identify what creature had provided the fur for any of them. A faint scent of cinnamon and woodsmoke reached him.

The sweeping emptiness of the room was broken up by half a dozen scattered couches and an assortment of small tables. The wall that held no windows consisted in large part of an immense alcove that Bredon realized was a fireplace only after he had spotted both the ash in the bottom and the flue at the back.

Tiny spots of color flitted about the room, and Bredon recognized them as the same creatures that had surrounded Lady Sunlight. She had come here. He felt the muscles of his throat and chest tightening in anticipation.

“Hello!” Geste called as they stepped inside.

“Hello, Mr. Geste,” a smooth, masculine voice replied from the empty air. Bredon looked for its source, but saw nothing. “I regret to say that Lady Sheila is not at home just now, but we expect her back shortly. Is there anything I can do for you? Would you like to wait?"

“Is Lady Sunlight here? I see some of her flutterbugs."

“I'm sorry, sir, but she went with Lady Sheila. The flutterbugs were a housewarming gift."

Bredon felt harsh disappointment welling within him.

“Damn,” Geste muttered under his breath. “Missed her!” Aloud, he asked, “But she was here?"

“Yes, sir, Lady Sunlight arrived a few hours ago. I understand she will be staying for several sleeps."

“You expect her back?"

“Oh, yes, sir."

“When?"

“I don't know, sir."

“Where did they go? Did they say?"

“Yes, sir. Lady Sheila, Lady Sunlight, and Rawl the Adjuster have gone to the High Castle. I believe they felt called upon to settle a disagreement between Brenner of the Mountains and Thaddeus the Black."

Bredon had observed this exchange without comment. He had determined to his own satisfaction that the voice was not coming from any of the walls, nor the floor, nor the ceiling. It was coming from empty air, in the center of the room, which was impossible. He also did not really know what a castle was, though he had heard the word in childhood stories. More specifically, he did not know what the High Castle was, or why so many of the Powers should be gathering there. The mention of Rawl the Adjuster, the legendary incarnation of justice and mercy, impressed him, even here in the home of the Lady of the Seasons, with the notorious Trickster at his side. He told himself that he should be becoming accustomed to these casual references to the figures of legend, particularly since he had yet to actually meet any but the Trickster, but the name still carried an impact, and it added further to his mounting burden of curiosity, so that he could hold back no longer. “Who are you talking to?” he demanded. “What's going on?"

“I'm talking to Sheila's housekeeper,” Geste replied, a trifle impatiently.

“Why can't I see him?"

“Because it's invisible."

Bredon started to protest that that was impossible, but thought better of it. Among the Powers he had no way of knowing what, if anything, might be impossible. Instead, he asked, “What's the High Castle?"

“That's the stronghold of Brenner of the Mountains, about a hundred kilometers southwest of here. And I think that's where we're headed.” He spun on his heel and marched back out onto the terrace.

Bredon hurriedly followed; behind them the housekeeper's voice called, “Safe journey, sir; I'll tell Lady Sheila you were here."

Bredon heard no command, saw no gesture, but the platform glided smoothly over to meet them.