Smart, smart! And ruthless. If Psyche assumed charge, she would immediately give herself up to save her father and Herald. Was there a creature on this planet with more nerve than Qaval? Without the support of such a knight, the throne of Prince Circlet and his father, the King, would surely be a mockery.
Herald guided his horse to another horse while the Duke remained in place. Herald located a laser sword in the other saddle, and lifted it out. He turned it on, and the blade glowed. Powered by the castle broadcast, it was deadly.
"You have been the perfect knight, even in your treachery," Herald said. "I wish I had friends as noble as you the enemy. You have allowed me to arm myself. It is only fair to warn you that I know how to use this weapon, for I am of Slash, Andromeda."
"I am well aware of that, Healer," Qaval said. "You are a better swordsman than Kade, whose repute is widely known. But so am I." And he hung up his ax and drew his own laser sword.
Oh-oh.
Mounted, Herald would be at a disadvantage, for Qaval was an expert wheelhorsecreature. So he jumped down to the deck. He ran the risk of getting run down, but he was better off this way.
And Qaval, honorable to the last, did the same. Chivalry was far from dead on Planet Keep!
They moved together, fencing. Herald quickly verified that the enemy knight had not been bluffing. Qaval had short thick arms, but he was by no means clumsy. He handled his sword and shield with such expertise that Herald dared not try any tricks. The enemy used his tail to balance his body, making his motions more certain. Qaval had power; his tail, not his body, absorbed the recoil from his swift motions.
The enemy knight was under pressure, however, because the ferry was approaching the castle. Once it came within range of the defensive crossbows, Qaval would be in trouble. So he had to press the attack instead of waiting his opportunity. Herald, in contrast, could play it safe, being defensive.
It was some attack! Qaval had to be tired, but his blade flicked about Herald as though guided by its own mind. Herald foiled each thrust, but he had to retreat. Qaval was forcing him back toward the water. Soon he would be trapped, as Kade had been. Yet he had to keep stepping away; Qaval was simply too strong.
His heels came up against the rail. Herald tried desperately to drive Qaval back, taking the offense for the first time, but feint and thrust as he might, he could not make the knight fall for any ruses or give ground. Herald was making himself vulnerable by this effort. In a moment Qaval would counter with such authority that Herald would have to go into the water.
Only one chance. Herald blocked Qaval's blade to the left, causing the enemy to flick his weapon outward to avoid interruption of the circuit, then threw himself to the right, taking a quick forward roll on the deck. But even as he committed himself, he knew it hadn't worked. Qaval had not been fooled, and was in place to stab him before he regained his feet. It had been a desperation ploy to get out of the corner, and the invincible knight had anticipated it.
"Now you must yield," Qaval said calmly. But at this moment of disaster, something flew across the deck and struck him on the helmet. The knight fell back on his tail, unconscious. Amazed, Herald struggled to his feet.
A metal ball rolled across the deck. Then Herald saw the design on it: the crest of Magnet! It was the Baron of Magnet's mace! Herald peered into the water in the direction it had come from—and there was the Baron, floating.
Herald leaned over the rail and reached, but it was too far. So he ran to a horse and grabbed a mace from the saddle, extending its metal head toward the Baron. Sure enough, the Magnet drew into this, and Herald was able to haul him in close, where he could be lifted up and out.
"You showed up just in time!" Herald said.
Once the Baron was back in the saddle, he was able to speak, using his translator. "Water immersion does not harm my kind, and the teeth of the reptiles mean nothing to me. But I was not able to maneuver. It took a few moments to pump up enough gas to float for we are hardly more dense than water, and by then the boat had left me behind. It took some time to paddle back."
"Paddle back?" Herald asked, perplexed. "You have no limbs, no jets!"
"I used my mace," Magnet explained, twirling his ball in momentary orbit. Suddenly Herald comprehended: The ball, shoved against the water, provided the metal brace the Baron could use to propel himself slowly forward. Apparently the water did not interfere with the creature's magnetism. This was a marvelously versatile species, one that could survive in the vacuum of space or on the bottom of a predator-infested lake! "But I have also—exhausted my fuel." And the Baron settled into the saddle, his mace dropping.
The doughty little warrior had done his utmost!
Now Herald was in charge of the ferry, with three unconscious knights. He had little notion what to do, but it didn't matter, because the paddlewheels were carrying them all to the castle anyway. He looked like much more of a hero than he was. He thought he saw Psyche waving a handkerchief from a parapet.
6
Siege of Psyche
E Second animation of site. Specific location: Segment Etamin, native Sphere Sador, Planet Keep. No manifestation of technical site penetration. Animation faded without action. E
& Miscue? Site animation without penetration or action? &
E Stet. E
& Then the Quote species of Segment Etamin are on the verge of complete site activation by remote control. Dispatch action unit. &
0 Unit 2, orient and proceed. 0
2 Enroute. Assignment? 2
& Await further animation of site, orient specifically, nullify. &
"You're a hero," Psyche told him after her kiss and hug.
"Your father and Baron Magnet are the heroes," Herald said. And Duke Qaval, he thought, for in the battle proper the reptilian knight had won the day.
They stood on the parapet, while others attended to the knights. "Qaval would have won, if he hadn't been so noble about it," Herald added after a moment, feeling the need to be fair in word as well as thought.
"After his treachery of impersonating the dead," she said wryly. "Well, he is our captive now."
The threat of taking the Duke of Kade and Herald hostage was over; it had rebounded against its perpetrators. But the siege was still to come.
He glanced up at the Ridge Road. "Use the scope," Psyche advised. So he moved over to the mounted telescope, and traced what was visible of the ridge.
"I see them!" he said. "They've cleared away our men during the distraction of the dam battle, and now they're wheeling dozers in." For the solid draft-beasts were capable of shoving sizable rocks about and starting an avalanche.
In the course of the next hour they watched the enemy setting up. It looked ominous indeed. Then, just as the dozers were massed for their surprise move, the stampede from the high pasture started. Hundreds of fat healthy cattle charged along the ridge, shoving everything aside. Troops and dozers tumbled down the side, cracking into trees. There were many enemy knights, there to guard against any possible counterattack and to supervise the forming of the ramp after the avalanche, but they were helpless before the nearly mindless panic of the cattle.
The cattle braked and milled about some as they funneled onto the narrowest path and then hit the steep descent. Their wheels skidded. They slewed around and spread out all across the slope, shoving bodies ahead of them. But their fury was spent. When the herd finally reached the bottom, the cows stopped to graze on the green grass near the lake.
Well, they had done their job! The enemy had been suckered into that trap, and the retainers of the Baron of Magnet had spooked the herd on schedule. There would be no avalanche now!
Herald kissed Psyche again—and felt her aura rising.
"Come on," he said. "This time I'm going to find out just what governs your variation. And I want Qaval as Enemy Witness. We may resolve this yet."
"Why don't you just accept me as I am?" she inquired, pouting. "There's been trouble every time you—"
"Let's
ring in the Weew, too," he said. "He has a high aura, and can help observe. We'll start at the cellar. I'd certainly like to know why depth raises your aura."
"It does sound backward," she admitted. Then she got more practical: "This time let's bring some pillows. I don't want to have to lie on that cold wet stone again."
"You never lay on it before!" he said.
"I didn't say I did lie on it, I said I didn't want to before, and I don't want to again. But when I didn't before, I never got to lie upstairs either, so if it's got to be in the cellar, at least let's make it comfortable."
He patted her fanny, then gave it a tweak. "Seems comfortable enough to me. The trouble with you females is you think you're good for only one thing! This it serious."
"You only married me for my aura," she complained.
She never tired of that game! But—neither did he. So he followed through on what was becoming a ritual. "No, you're an heiress too, and you have a pretty... face. For a shotgun wedding, those were recommendations enough."
"Never marry a snake," she muttered. "My old nurse warned me."
He grabbed her, spun her about, and buried his face in her flowing hair, kissing her smooth neck. Script it might be, but it did set him off. "This is absolutely crazy," he said, his lips moving against her skin as though he were speaking Polarian style. "I can't justify it at all. But I'm in danger of falling wildly in love with you, child bride." He nipped the blue skin where neck met shoulder.
"Well, no one's perfect," she said. And twisted around to kiss him on the lips with savage fervor. "Oh, Herald, just to be with you forever—that's an I want. Is that so greedy?"
"To the cellar, girl," he said, pointing dramatically. "If we don't get this investigation started, your main attraction will fade before I can get your secondary attraction down on that cold wet stone."
"A fate worse than death," she agreed. "I suppose it never occurs to you to put pleasure before business?"
"What do you think I'm doing?" he demanded.
"Make that forever minus one day," she said. "Any more remarks like that and I'll remove another day."
"Already I'm pressed for time. I'm losing a day a minute."
They picked up Qaval, who seemed none the worse for his knockout except for a darker green splotch on his brow, found Hweeh, and descended to the cellar. Herald made each entity touch Psyche on the way. "We are investigating the so-called Possession phenomenon," he explained. "Note that her aura is up to fifty now."
At the foot of the steps: "Note that it has jumped to sixty. That's unique. With other entities, aura is their most constant property. But Psyche's aura is not supernatural. She varies with time and elevation. It is my purpose to ascertain what factors govern her cycle, and demonstrate that there is no need to postulate Possession. Once Duke Qaval is satisfied, the siege may be over."
"And if it becomes certain that she is possessed?" Qaval inquired with a rippling curl of his green lip.
"My wife shall not be burned," Herald said firmly. "If we can't exonerate her, the siege continues." He shook off the unpleasant notion. "All right. We know her aura will increase to a level above two hundred in the course of the next two hours. She will began to glow. What we need to learn is why—and what in this cellar affects it."
"In short, we shall locate the demon," Qaval said.
"And lay it to rest forever! We'll crisscross this whole labyrinth and chart her fluctuations. Maybe we'll zero in on the key."
They crisscrossed. Psyche's aura peaked at a certain spot on the floor near the wine cellar, fading evenly in a radius out from it. Qaval, accepting his status as Enemy Witness with singular grace, became quite interested in the proceedings. He had an active scientific curiosity. On his suggestion, Psyche approached that area on the floor above, and they found that the effect there was similar but less marked.
"It is an intersecting plane of a sphere," Hweeh pointed out. "The center is some distance below the castle cellar. We shall have to excavate it to locate it specifically."
"That would undermine the foundations and encourage intrusion of water," Qaval said. "Not the wisest course during a siege."
"Maybe we could make a sampling core," Herald said.
"Not before her aura fades," Hweeh said. "Drilling takes time, if it is done carefully enough to be worthwhile in its sample, and she is already up to my level."
"Higher than that," Herald said. "Here in the spot, she's one hundred seventy."
"What was the nature of the site on which this castle was constructed?" Qaval inquired.
"I can answer that," Psyche said, glad to contribute something other than her mere presence. "The first Kade was granted this estate eight hundred years ago. He dowsed for the best site, which turned out to be right here."
"Dowsed?" Herald asked blankly.
"Dowsed. He cut a section from a wheelbranch and held it in his hands a special way. Where it dipped, he built."
"I had understood this was normally done to locate a source of water or precious metal," Hweeh remarked.
"In this case, he was dowsing for feel," she said. "He was a religious man, and he insisted that the spiritual vibrations be correct."
"So he located the spot where an immortal demon lay buried," Qaval said, "and built his edifice on that."
"Do you consider this to be Possession?" Herald asked.
"It may be. But removal of the bones or tomb of the demon should abate it."
"Will Prince Circlet provide us time to excavate?"
Qaval shook his snout. "He is now committed to siege. Only a successful siege-defense will convince him."
"Do you know, there is something familiar about Psyche's cycle," Hweeh said. "I can't place it, but—"
"Something to do with your specialty?" Herald asked.
"Yes. In fact... possibly even with the reason I shock out. I wonder whether...."
Herald was abruptly more interested. A tie-in between Psyche's aura and Hweeh's shock? "Is her connection beneficial or inimical to your health?"
"I don't know. But I am willing to experiment."
"Let's try it," Herald said. And to Qaval: "Enemy Witness, this entity has no part in the Possession. If the siege against Kastle Kade should be successful, see that he is granted safe passage out."
"Agreed," Qaval said.
Herald put his hand on Hweeh, who was now a blob with eye-stalk, horn, and three feet. "Space Amoeba," he said.
Immediately the Weew sagged. But Herald maintained contact. "Wake, Hweeh. Sight. Sound. Recovery."
Slowly the Weew came out. "I suffer disorientation. Did I—?"
"I sent you into shock with the key phrase," Herald said, "and brought you out of it immediately, allowing you no reorientation period. Do you wish to continue?"
"Yes. It is important. Your treatments have helped me, or I would not have been able to revive so soon."
"Psyche, your turn," Herald said.
Psyche put her hand on Hweeh. She was now 180. "Amoeba," she said gently.
Hweeh sank again. "Wake," she said urgently. "Wake, Hweeh!"
Slowly the Weew came out of it.
"Her aura is less than mine," Herald said. "Yet it is working as well. That indicates an affinity. Perhaps when she peaks...."
"What manner of problem does the Weew have?" Qaval inquired.
"Sorry, I forgot you were not the same Enemy Witness we had before. Hweeh is a research astronomer who discovered something he believes is of Galactic significance, so serious he went into shock. He returns to shock at the mere mention of certain words. His Segment felt the matter warranted my attention, and I believe they were justified, but so far I have been unable to help him."
"It should not be difficult to define," Qaval said. He turned to Hweeh. "Is your concern in inner or outer galactic space?"
"My specialty is Fringe-Cluster space, so—"
"So it was some extra-Cluster phenomenon you noted," Qaval said, exactly as if confirming something he had always known. "Tra
ns-Milky Way or trans-Andromeda or trans-Pinwheel?"
Hweeh hesitated. "None of them seem right. I don't think it is near a major galaxy."
"But not so far away as another cluster?"
"No, not that far, not exactly...."
"Now there are not many trans-Tri-Galaxy close-in extra-Cluster phenomena that would show on the charts of a research astronomer. I daresay you can name them readily out of memory."
"Yes, of course," Hweeh said. "But—"
"And the mere naming of known constellations is hardly a matter to send any creature into shock."
"No, but—"
"I know what it is, for I heard it just now, twice. You know what it is. Are you fool enough to suppose that you can fight an enemy by turning away your gaze?"
"No, of course not. Yet—"
"Name your enemy. Then you can conquer him."
Hweeh concentrated. "Not Sculp. Not Cloud Six. Not Fur—Fur—not Furnace, but very—" He could not continue.
"Are you an astronomer or a stuttering child?" Qaval demanded, beginning one of his fabulous sneers. "Seek you to pretend that identifying it by elimination is less clumsy than naming it direct? Where is your pride of profession?"
Hweeh's color flexed in anger. His flesh shuddered with the ferocity of his effort. "The—Space—AMOEBA!" he cried. And sank into shock.
Herald considered. "Sir," he said to Qaval, "I think you have shown us the way. He can face it, with proper preparation."
"I have a certain expertise in the interrogation of prisoners," Qaval said. "It transfers readily enough to similar situations. It is a matter of invoking the basic drives, and also of timing terms and expressions, as in combat."
"Yes, you are the compleat warrior," Psyche said.
There was something about context and tone that altered the very spelling of the word in Herald's mind: compleat, not complete. Which was odd, because he had not realized his host was literate. Some time at his leisure he would have to run down the allusion.
"Let's let him rest for a little while," Herald decided. "Three shocks is about the limit, if we are not to damage him and risk losing it all." He took Psyche by the arm. "You're coming up on two hundred now. I'll bring you back here at two hundred and fifty. Qaval can keep an eye on Hweeh."