The Ivory Lyre

Chapter 14

Seastrider dove so the stadium leaped up at Teb out of blackness. The cat screamed again. Teb smelled burning fur. They hovered over the stands. Metal rattled; a man laughed. They could see two figures at a small fire at one end of the arena. The bars of cages shone in the firelight. Chained animals crouched behind them, eyes flashing as a third figure thrust a red hot poker through. A great cat leaped away from it screaming, choked by the chain that held it against the bars.

I can dive on them, Seastrider said.

No. The whole city would soon know there are dragons. The main gate is ajar; I can get in there.

Seastrider chose a deserted hill beyond the stadium, littered with fallen, rotted buildings and broken walls, just above the river. She dropped down. “I will go with you.”

He slid down from her back. “The white mare would be recognized. A wolf is too small, and maybe you couldn’t change back. Go up, Seastrider, into the clouds.”

“I will try another shape. A bear—yes, I remember bears; there are songs that hold the bears’ essence.” She breathed out a snort of flame, and before he could argue, the night rippled and twisted, the dragon shimmered, faded, and a dark hulk reared over Teb, a blackness against the stars reaching out at him with broad paws, growling.

When she dropped to all fours, he grabbed a handful of her shaggy coat and swung aboard. She sped down the hill at a fast rolling gait. He could see by the first touch of dawn that her coat was not dark, but silver. He had never smelled a bear—it was pungent and wild. The cat screamed again. Seastrider reached the high wall. The iron gate was just ajar. She shouldered through. Teb drew his sword as they swung toward the fire. Before they were within its light, he slipped down.

Beyond the fire the cat twisted, screaming, away from the burning poker. Teb leaped for the fire, grabbed one of the men, and stabbed him. The bear tumbled the other, mauling him and muffling his screams. The man at the cages turned to look, but before Teb could reach him, a figure appeared out of nowhere, out of the dark, leaping to the torturer’s back. There was a cry, Teb saw the flash of a knife. By the time he reached the fight, the torturer lay writhing and the smaller figure was running for the gate.

Teb knelt over the soldier, glancing back toward the fire, where the bear was flinging one of the dead soldiers into the air, catching and battering him. He stared into the dying soldier’s face for a moment, a youth no older than he but sallow and evil, even in death. He removed the knife, wiped it clean, and put it in his belt, where it would not identify its owner; then he watched the soldier die.

He opened the gates to the cages and unchained the five big cats and two wolves. No creature spoke; they moved out quickly toward the gate, crowding around the bear as if for safety. Beyond the gate they found the river quickly, and the animals crouched among rubble and broken walls to drink. Panting, the five big cats shivered with pain. The two wolves slunk as no speaking animal should. The silver bear stood rearing beside them, watching the stadium they had left and the barracks that formed one side of it, turning her head back and forth, listening. When no sound came from the stadium, she sat down at last and contemplated the animals. One of the great cats came to her and Teb, limping badly. Her voice was hardly a breath.

She was the sand-colored cat he had released first, her body torn with fresh burns. She raised her face to Teb, her green eyes caressing him, then licked his face, leaning her head against him. At last she stood back, studying Teb and the bear appraisingly.

“If you were riding a marvelous white mare, I would think you Prince Tebmund of Thorley. But instead, you ride a bear. . . . Do bears speak, my prince? I have never known a bear.”

He laughed. “This bear speaks. She is . . . kin to the white mare, you might say.”

The cat twitched a whisker. “I am Elmmira of the colony of Gardel-Cloor. We are in your debt. Do you know whether the girl escaped safely?”

“What girl?”

“The girl with the knife, who killed the soldier.”

“She got out the gate safely. Who was she?”

“That must remain our secret, even though you saved us. We would not speak her name without her permission.” Elmmira laid a soft paw against his chest. “My companions are Domma, Jimmica, Xemmos, and Jerymm.” Each animal lifted its head as Elmmira spoke its name. “Our wolf friends were brought here as captives from Igness. Yallel and Zellig.”

“I am Tebmund of Thorley.” Teb felt ashamed at giving these animals less than the truth. But if the great cats felt the need for care, then so should he. “The bear does not give her name. But tell me of Gardel-Cloor. That is an ancient sanctuary. Are you free to tell me where it lies?”

“That, too, Prince Tebmund, we cannot reveal even to you.” Elmmira began to lick at her burns. The bear turned to look at the animals, then started up over the rubble-strewn hill. They followed, Teb walking among them. But soon the sky began to grow lighter, the bear’s silver shape becoming too visible among the fallen houses.

“You’ll be seen if you stay with us,” Teb told the animals. “Go quickly where you can hide, before Sardira sends out his soldiers. He’ll be in a rage that you escaped; he’ll get you back if he can.”

The animals raised their faces to him for a moment, exchanged a long look with the bear, then angled off quickly among the broken walls and ran, limping, down toward the city and the sea cliffs. Teb did not see Elmmira pause, sniff for scent among the rubble, then begin to track. He swung onto the bear’s back and she moved at a fast, rolling walk up over the hill. An empty valley lay beyond, rocky and desolate. Here the bear plunged down, in a hurry now to change back and take to the sky before dawn grew too light.

But in the valley she paused, agitated. Teb slipped down. She began to pace, lumbering around boulders, fighting something unseen. She returned to Teb at last, her head down, shifting and backing uncomfortably. I cannot change. I am trapped, Tebriel.

He tried to help. It did no good. Seastrider remained solidly a bear. Teb mounted at last and they went on, up the cliff and onto open fields, back toward the course of the river. It was too light now for her to take to the sky, even could she have changed. In the shadows of a dense grove they hid themselves—if such a huge, pale creature could hide anywhere. She squeezed into the brambles, Teb lying along her back, his head against her rough coat, trying with her, trying to change. . . .

She clawed at the earth, combing ridges into the soft forest mulch. She pressed her shoulder against a huge oak, forcing to bring the magic, then in an agony of defeat she raked great gashes down its bark so the wood beneath shone white in four long strokes. And still she was a bear. The morning had come. Down below the wood they could hear the city waking, bangs and thumps and voices calling, and a squeaky cart.

The silver bear ceased fighting the dark. Teb slid from her back. She faced him, very still. I will go away alone. Far from here across the inlets south, away from the forces of the unliving. I will swim the sea to some deserted shore, then I will be able to change back.

You won’t go alone.

Yes.

I won’t let you go alone; we must not be separated. Come . . .

Instead of arguing or letting him mount, she spun fast for her bulk, her teeth bared and her ears laid flat, her roar heavy with fury. He stepped back with amazement, his arm up to shield his face, then he saw the horsemen advancing on them from out of the dark forest: It was them the silver bear faced. As they circled bear and prince, they threw their leather capes back to show the yellow uniforms beneath. In the lead rode Captain Leskrank, General Vurbane, and black-robed King Sardira.

Calm, Teb thought. Calm. Put a good face on it.

Yes, calm, Tebriel. A pet bear, a guard bear raised in Thedria . . .

“You’re out early,” Teb said. “You’ve discovered my secret at last. I had thought not to burden you with my pet.” He grinned. “She is not the sort of animal I would have brought into the palace with me.”

They sat looking down at him, Sardira’s face a pale thin moon above black robe and black horse, General Vurbane like a melted wax figure where the scar made his face run together. Heavy-shouldered, hunched Leskrank glowered at Teb and the bear, his waxen face pale and eager with the promise of torture. Twelve soldiers flanked them, their horses backing and fighting to stay away from the bear.

“It is not the sort of animal,” King Sardira said, “that exists in this hemisphere, Prince Tebmund. Tell us how you came by it.”

“Oh, they exist.” Teb smiled. “We raise them on Thedria and train them as guard animals. I understand that in the nations of Windthorst they use winged jackals, but we find the bears more . . . accommodating. Do not fear her; she is quite tame unless danger threatens. She has been most obedient about staying here to herself, in the wood.”

“There are no bears on Thedria,” said Vurbane. “I have been there. There is no Prince Tebmund, either.”

“Oh, there are bears,” Teb said lightly. “There is no Prince Tebmund, of course, for I am here.”

Vurbane looked annoyed, a drawing-back deep within his cold eyes; Teb hoped he had been bluffing.

“When were you in Thedria?” Teb asked lightly. “I do not remember your visit, General Vurbane.”

Vurbane did not answer, but only stared at Teb, then nodded briefly to King Sardira. Sardira motioned to Leskrank, a quick, irritated movement. Leskrank raised a hand, and at once the soldiers spurred their reluctant horses forward, their swords a circle of steel pointing down at Teb and Seastrider; the bear reared and charged the horses, clawing one and snatching the rider from the saddle. Teb’s sword cut down two soldiers as their horses spun, trying to bolt. He turned to see spears bristling at the bear as she lunged at Captain Leskrank, spears ready to sink deep. “No!” he cried. “No!” There are too many. Fall back.

She hesitated, and a spear pierced her shoulder. Fall back! At last she dropped to all fours, the points of a dozen spears pricking her heavy coat.

A rider dismounted and took Teb’s sword and tied his hands behind him. He tied a long rope around Teb’s neck, gave Sardira the other end, and kicked Teb in the ankle. “Get moving.” Teb walked out fast beside the bear. Sardira spurred his horse so close it nearly trampled Teb, then jogged ahead so Teb had to run or be dragged. Double-time they went down along the river past derelict farms, then through the rubbled streets. As they approached the arena, Sardira jerked Teb to a stop and sat glaring down at him.

“Tell me why you released my animals, Prince Tebmund. Why would you do such a thing after we treated you so hospitably?”

Teb stared at the king and said nothing.

“Who was your accomplice, Prince Tebmund? Oh, yes, my men saw him; they saw it all from the barracks. They saw him run away. They came down here to find three of my best soldiers murdered.”

Teb looked at the king coldly. “I suppose it is some special privilege for your best soldiers, to be allowed to torture helpless animals.”

The king cut him a look of cold disgust. “I suppose you are some sort of judge. Do you bleed for every slaughtered sheep on the supper table, Prince Tebmund?”

Teb only looked at him.

“You don’t imagine, Prince Tebmund, that I believed your story about coming here only to sell horses. Whom do you spy for, Prince Tebmund? Some gutter-based cadre of self-made rebels itching to be slaughtered by my armies?”

Teb stared in silence, up into Sardira’s cold, black eyes.

“Well, your tale about trading horses will be honored, Prince Tebmund—if you are a prince—but your payment will not be quite what you planned. It will be payment to match the intent. . . .”

Teb looked the king over coldly, then spat on the sword and shouldered it out of his way as another blade probed his back. He sauntered through the gate beside the ambling silver bear, his fury so hot his blood throbbed like drums.

. . . to advantage, Seastrider was saying. Go easy, Tebriel. We will use this to advantage, I will get my power back. . . . Three dragons are still free, to help us. . . .

But Teb could not sense the others; there was no answering surge that showed they were linked by thought. Nothing.

They were marched the length of the gaming field and forced into cages. Teb was chained, but no soldier would enter the bear’s cage. Her door was bolted and locked. Four mounted soldiers were left to guard them and to prepare them for the games.