Sorceress Of The Witch World

XVIII

We found no more sweet and sunlit spots such as the orchard; neither did we again chance upon a pool of vileness as the wood. Rather we journeyed over what might have been a land where man had never set foot before. A wild country, yet not too difficult to travel. And for two days we headed steadily west over this. Each night we listened also as Ayllia reported in whispers her account of that day’s traveling, as if she had walked with a knowing mind and open eyes scout-trained to see. Nor when I urged that she be blocked did my parents agree, for fear of rendering her so helpless that we could not transport her.

On the third day distant blue lines against the sky to the north and west broke into individual mountain peaks. And I was heartened, for by so much were we closer to a land I knew, at least in part. And perhaps I could, within this day’s journeying or tomorrow’s, pick out some landmark which would guide us into a land the Valley riders patrolled.

We surmounted a ridge at midday, to look down and away into a meadowland, though the grass was now a drab, winter-killed mat through which only a few spikes of early green stuff broke. But man had been here, for there were very old stone fences, so overborne by time that they were mere lines of tumbled rocks. Yet those lines in one direction marked out a road, and the road ended in piers water-washed by a languidly flowing river, some planted in the water, jagged stumps above its surface, and one on an island midway between the two shores.

But it was what occupied that island which froze us, startled and staring, on the ridge crest, until my father’s fiercely hissed warning sent us down flat, no longer to be noted against the sky. What we had chanced upon was a sharp skirmish between two bands of sworn enemies.

On this side of the stream reared, pawed, galloped up and down, black keplians—those monsters with the seeming of horses that served the Sarn Riders. The Sarns—I had thought them all dead in the defeat of Dinzil, but it would seem that enough had survived to make up this troop at least—were human appearing, their hooded cloaks flapping about them. Padding along the margin of the water were the Gray Ones, pointing their man-wolf muzzles into the air as they slavered and screeched their hatred. But, as ever, running water kept them both from full attack. Not so the others of that Shadow pack. From the air shrieked the rus, those birds of ill omen, flying with talon and beak ready to harry the party on the island. And I saw, too, the troubling of the water as rasti swam in waves of furred and vicious bodies, struggling out into the jumble of rocks which was the only defense the island party had.

And running water did not hold others of that foul regiment. Well above its surface floated a swirl of yellowish vapor which did not travel fast, yet made purposefully for the island. Only the sharp crackle of the energy whips of the Green Riders on the island kept all these at bay. Yet perhaps what the forces of the Shadow fought for was only to hold until support came, since we could see movement on the ground at the other side of the river, an ingathering of more of the Sarn Riders and the Gray Ones. Behind those something else moved with intent, but was so covered by a flickering of the air that I could not truly see it. I believed it, however, to be one of the strong evils.

Once Kemoc and I had been so besieged in a place of stones, with a monster force ringing us in. Then Kyllan and the Green People had broken through to our rescue. But here it would seem that some of the Green People themselves were at bay.

Kemoc! His name was on my lips but I did not cry it aloud, remembering that such a betrayal of my recognition might be caught by one of the Shadow and used as another weapon against the very one I would protect. Now I saw a boiling of water about the island and wondered if the Krogan, alienated as they had been, had also now come fully under the Dark Ones’ banner.

My father had been surveying the scene below with critical measurement. He spoke now.

“It would seem wise to provide some diversion. But these are not Kolder, nor men—”

My mother’s fingers moved in gestures I understood. She was not really counting those of the enemy between us and the river; rather she was in a manner testing them. Now she answered him.

“They do not suspect us, and among these there is knowledge of a sort, but they are not of the Masters, rather creatures born of meddling in pools of the Power. I do not know whether we will turn them by spelling, but one must try. An army . . . ?” And of those last two words she made a question.

“To begin with, yes,” he decided.

She brought out of the fore of her tunic some of the herbs which she had used to break the counter spell of the monster-seeming while my father and I clawed loose the earth of the ridge about us. Using spittle from our mouths, we made of it small balls, into which Jaelithe pressed some of the bits of dried leaf and broken stem. When she had done so, she set them out in a line before us.

“Name them!” she ordered.

And my father did so, staring long and hard at each one as he spoke. Some of the names he uttered were ones I had heard:

“Otkell, Brendan, Dermont, Osberic.”

And a great name that last was! Mangus Osberic had held Sulcar Keep and taken its walls and Kolder attackers with him when there was no hope of relief.

“Finnis . . .” On and on he spoke those names, some of Old Race Borderers, some of Sulcarmen, one or two of Falconers. And I knew that he so chose men who had stood beside him once, though now they were dead and so could not be harmed by our magic.

When he had done, and there were still some balls remaining, my mother took up the tale. The names she called sounded with a particular crackle in the air. Thus I knew she raised, not warriors, but Wise Women who had gone behind the final curtain.

She was done and a single ball remained unnamed. I was—possessed? No, not in reality, for another will did not enter into me to direct my hand or take over my brain, yet I did that which I had no forethought to do. My finger went out to the last ball and the name I gave it was not that of the dead, but of the living, and a name I would never have voiced had not that compulsion out of nowhere brought it to my lips.

“Hilarion!”

My mother sent a single direct and measuring glance. But she said naught, rather put then her force to the summoning, and my father and I joined with her. Then from the small seeds of soil, herbs and spittle, gathering form and solidity as they did rose, came the appearances of those named.

In that moment, they were so very real that even putting forth a hand one might feel firm flesh. And one could indeed die under the weapons they carried, ready for battle.

But that last seed, that which I had so intently named, did not bear fruit. And I had a fleeting wonder if it had been only my fear of him, perhaps a desire to think him dead and safely removed from us, which had led me to that act.

There was no time left for idle speculation as down from the ridge marched the army we had summoned, the warriors to the fore, behind them a half a dozen gray-robed women, each with her hands breast-high, holding so her witch jewel, in its way as great or greater a menace to the enemy that the steel the others bore.

So great was the hallucination that, had I not seen the spell in progress, I would have accepted the sudden appearance of a battle-ready force as fact. Yet that one ball of mud remained. I would have pinched it into nothingness but I discovered that I could not, so I left it lying as we four got to our feet to follow the army our wills commanded down the slope to the river.

I do not know which of those in the lines of besiegers first looked up to see us coming, but suddenly there was an outward surge, mainly of the Gray Ones leaping at us. Among them our warriors wreaked slaughter, though at first I thought that perhaps the enemy could sense they were not normal and meet them as illusions.

Now the Sarn Riders wheeled and rode, and from them sprang lance points of fire. Yet none of those at whom they aimed shriveled in the flames or fell in death. And as our warriors had met the Gray Ones, so did the Wise Women of the second line send forth beams from their jewels. These touching upon the head of keplian or rider appeared to cause madness so that keplian ran screaming, stopping now and then to rear and paw wildly, throwing riders who had not already been crazed by the touch of jewel beams.

Our advantage was a matter of time, as I knew well, and I struggled along with my parents to hold fast the flow of energy which fed our illusions. For, if we faltered, or tired, they would fail. And soon we marched less quickly, and I felt drops of sweat gather on my forehead, to roll as tears of strain down my cheeks. But still I gave all I had to this task.

The regiment of illusions reached the river bank. Then the drifting swirls of mist floated back from the island toward us. These were in fact so insubstantial they were naught which could be hewed nor did the jewel beams appear to harm them, though they would swing away from any aimed at their centers.

And, if these were not enough, that curious “thing” we had seen advancing on the other side of the river was drawing closer. But the Sarn Riders and the Gray Ones on that side of the water made no attempt to cross and join the fighting here, nor even to reach the island. It could be they only waited to cut off retreat, leaving the strange thing to do the battling.

Suddenly my mother flung out her hand, and, as suddenly, my father was at her side, his arm about her shoulders, supporting her. I caught only the sidewash of that chaotic confusion which struck at us obliquely, so that my mother must have taken far more of its force. And I knew without being told that it was a blow from that flickering unseeable. However, if it had thought to contemptuously sweep us into nothingness by such tactics, it was soon to learn that we had more, or were more, than it expected.

Our illusionary troops did not fall dead, or fade away; they simply ceased to be, as we withdrew that energy which gave them life and being in order to defend ourselves. Still, they had cleared a path to the river bank and those on the island were quick to take advantage of what relief we could offer them. I saw Renthan arise from where they had lain, men swing onto their backs, energy whips lashing, to sweep the rest of the rasti away. Then, with great leaps through the water, they came to us.

Kemoc was well in the van, and sharing his mount was Orsya, her hair and pearly skin still water-sleeked. Behind them were six of the Green People, four men, two women.

“Mount!” My brother wheeled his Renthan close, his order clear. I saw my father half throw Ayllia to one of the Green Riders, and then aid my mother to mount behind another. I took the hand of one of the women and rose to sit behind her, seeing my father behind another.

The keplians and Gray Ones who had been so scattered by our illusions were not united to stand yet, and we rode southeast, keeping along the river bank. We rode knowing that behind us that flickering menace was coming, and, of all the enemy we had fronted this day, that was the most to be feared.

I glanced back, to see that it was out over the stream now—though it made that journey quickly, as if it cared little to cross running water. Then it was on the same bank. And how swiftly it might travel could mean the difference between life and death for us. We dared not halt again to make a new army, even if we could summon strength anew to call it into life.

I had never really known just how much speed the Renthans could summon, but that day I learned, and it was such learning as I would not care to face a second time unless the need was very great. I only clung to the one who sat before me and centered all my determination on holding that seat, while I closed my eyes to the wild sight of the world flashing by so fast that it would seem we bestrode a flying thing which never touched hoof to solid earth.

Then we were running not over land but in the river’s wash, and still east, away from our goal. With the water-covered gravel under them the Renthan slowed, though they kept a pace the fastest horse of Estcarp could not have bettered. I dared not look behind again, for ever and anon something reached out at us, a kind of nibbling rather than a blow designed to bring us down. To me that insidious touch was worse that a sword cut. There was a tenacious spirit to it which meant that once it had set upon a chase nothing would turn it from the trail.

The Renthan could not be tireless, and what would happen if they must mend their pace or were forced to rest?

Our river travel ended as suddenly as it had begun, the Renthan having crossed the stream at a long angle, to come out on the opposite shore, miles from the island. Now they faced about to run west again. But there were long shadows lying across our path and sunset could not be too long ahead—and night was the time of the Shadow. It could then summon to our undoing creatures who never dared face the light of day. We must, I was sure, find some stronghold we could defend during the dark hours. And I only hoped that those with whom we rode had enough knowledge of this and to do so.

When the Renthan came to a halt I was amazed, and could only believe that their energy had at last failed, to leave us in as great, or almost as great, a place of danger as we had fled. For we were now in the midst of open, level land, with dried grass brushing knee-high on our mounts, There was no sign of any outpost of the Light—no blue stones, not even such a memory of good as had hung in the orchard. We were in the open, naked to whatever attack enemies might launch.

But the Green People slid down from the backs of their allies, and perforce we did the same. Then I saw the meeting of Kemoc and our parents. Kemoc stood as tall and straight as Simon, though he was more slender. And he looked my father eye to eye until he put forth both arms my father caught them in the grip of the Borderer’s greeting, drawing him close till their cheeks met, first right and then left. But to my mother Kemoc went down on one knee and bowed his head until she touched it, and he looked up, to have her make one of the signs upon his forehead in blessing.

“A good greeting at an ill time,” said my father. “This seems a place in which we have no defenses.” That was a half question.

“The moon is at full,” my brother answered. “In this night we need light, for that which follows can twist dark to its own purposes.”

But we had more than the moon to serve us. The Green People moved with the swift sureness which said that they had done this many times before, marking out a star upon the ground by laying the fire of their whips accurately, a star large enough to shelter our whole party. Upon its points they set fires which were first kindled from twists of grass and then had planted in the heart of each a cube of gum as big as a man’s clenched fist. This took fire but did not blaze fiercely nor was it quickly consumed; from it instead pillared a tall shaft of blue radiance, making us safe against evil.

So sheltered we ate and drank, and then we talked and there was much to say. Thus I learned that Kemoc and Kyllan had been flung by the force of the avalanche well to one side, and with them Valmund, but he had been sore injured. They had later found Raknar’s crushed and broken body, but me they could not locate. And they had been forced away by a second avalanche which buried deeper that part they had frantically dug into. In the end they had returned to the Valley, but, as I had done, they clung to the hope that because of our bond they would have known of my death.

Thereafter, in the winter, matters grew more difficult for the Valley. Cold brought boldness to the evil things and they kept such a patrol about the borders of that part of the land the Green People and their allies had cleared, that each day saw some struggle or clash—as if the Shadow force planned to wear them down by such a constant keeping of alarms ringing them in. To my brothers this was the old way of Borderer life and they fell back easily into its pattern.

It appeared that those besieging them weakened with the coming of spring, however, and patrols from the Valley ventured farther and farther afield. Kemoc had been on one such mission when my mind touch reached him. And instantly he had ridden to seek us. We were well outside the influence of the Valley here and we must ride swift and hard to gain its shelter.

So had life been with him. Then we must add our own story, both separately and together, and this took time to tell, though we kept to the bare bones of fact. He was startled to hear of Hilarion and straightaway looked at me. I knew what moved in his mind, that he wondered if again we must arm ourselves against another Dinzil, and one perhaps ten times more powerful. And I could not say yes or no, for I had fear only, not proof.

By his side sat Orsya, also watching me. I flinched from her eyes remembering only too well how, tainted by Dinzil’s teaching, I had once wished her so much ill. Could I ever be sure that she, too, could look at me and not see the past rise as a wall between us?

[Missing text]

new come to use, would be full of trial and danger. For the first hour or two after our leaving the star camp, though, it would seem I was wrong.

We rode steadily westward. Then Renthan did not race as they had the day before, but they covered ground at an awesome pace, seeming not to feel the burden of their riders. Before long, however, we knew that if Sarn Riders and Gray Ones did not sniff behind us, that flickering thing did. And we also knew that it was more than matching our speed, though it labored to overtake us.

I saw the two Green Riders who formed our rear guard look now and then behind. When I did likewise I believed there was the flickering to be sighted far off. It also cast some influence ahead, slowing our thought, clouding our minds, and affecting even our bodies so that each gesture became a thing of effort. And under that drain the Renthan, too, began to give way.

The sunshine which had seemed so bright was now a pale thing; there might have been a thin cloud between it and us. Cold gathered about our shivering bodies as if the Ice Dragon breathed, months after he had been driven to his den.

Our run became a trot, then a walk in which the Renthan fought with great effort to achieve some of their former speed. Finally their leader, whom Kemoc rode, gave a loud bellow and they came to a halt as his thought reached us.

“We can do no more until this spell is lifted.”

“Spell!” My mother’s reply came quickly. “This is beyond my skill. It is born of another kind of knowledge than I have dealt with.”

Hearing this, the cold of my body was matched by the chill of inner fear. For she was one I believed stood ready to challenge and fight aught which walked this tormented land.

“Water magic I do have,” Orsya said. “But it is no match for what hunts us now. Kemoc?”

He shook his head. “I have named great names and have been answered. But I know not what name can deal with this—”

And at that moment there came into my mind that I alone knew what—who—might face our pursuer. I had named him to death on that ridge, not understanding why. If I called him now it was to death—for the breath of that lay on us, and whoever faced it in battle must be mightier than any I thought on. Even the Wise Women of Estcarp must work in concert for their great bespelling.

I could call. He would answer—and death would be the end. So did my fear tell me. To summon one to his death—what manner of woman could do that, knowing before that she did so?

Yet it was not my life I bargained for if I did this thing; it was the lives of those about me, together with what might well be the future of this land. So I slipped from the back of the Renthan and I ran out from them, facing that thing we could not see.

As I went I called for help as one might who was lost:

“Your banner—I summon—”

Why I framed my plea thus I could not tell. But I was answered by a flash of gold across the sky, seeming to bring with it a measure of the sun’s warmth, which had so strangely gone from us. Under it Hilarion stood, not looking back to me, but facing the thing, with no bared sword but a wand in his hand.

He raised the wand as a warrior salutes with his blade before he gives the first stroke in a measured bout. Formal and exact was that salute, and also was it a challenge to that which came behind us.

But of the rest of that battle I saw nothing, for there was an increase of that flickering, vastly hurting to the eyes so I had to shield my sight or go blind. Only, though I could not look upon what chanced there, there was one thing I might do: what Hilarion had demanded of me as Zandur’s prisoner, now did I give freely, and not for his asking. I allowed to flow to him all that was in my Power, emptying myself as I had not wanted to do since I regained what I had lost.

I think I fell to my knees, my hands pressed to my breast, but I was not really aware of anything but that draining and the need for giving. So did time pass without reckoning.

Then there was an end! I was empty with an emptiness which was deeper than the wound Dinzil had left in me. And I thought feebly that this was death, what death must be. But I had no fear, only the wish to be at peace forever.

But suddenly there was the warmth of hands on my shoulders and I was drawn up from where I crouched. Through that touch there flowed back into me life, though I did not want it now, knowing what I had done with my summons.

“Not so!”

Thus I was forced to open my eyes, not on the terrible blinding chaos I had thought, but to see who stood by me. And I knew that this was not one of Dinzil’s breed, those who do not give, only take. Rather it was true that between us there was neither ruler nor ruled, only sharing. There was no need for words, or even thoughts—save a single small wonder quickly gone as to how I could have been so blind as to open the door to needless fear . . .

We walked together to those who had watched and waited. And the opener of gates so became a defender of life, while I had an ending to my part in the saga of Escore.

We wrought well together, and with our combined Power we rode and fought, and rid the land of the Shadow, driving it back and back. And when it crept away into holes and hiding places we used the Power to seal those. When most of the cleansing was done my parents rode for Estcarp, for it was there their hearts were bound. Yet between us roads would now be opened and our thoughts would also move faster than any messengers could hope to ride.

My brothers and their people came forth from the Valley to take up lands their swords had bought. But I looked out upon a many-walled citadel thrusting boldly into the sea. And out of the dust of years came a new awakening which was very rich and good.