There was a swirl among the women, a cry. Nalda had seized upon one who stood beside her, held fast a screaming girl. I was with them in an instant.
The Lady Yngilda—I might have expected it.
I spoke to Nalda. “Bring her! Do you need help?”
“Not so!” She was a strong wench and she held the whimpering girl easily.
I spoke then to the others. “I shall settle this matter. And I lay upon you—let no one touch, for his spirit's sake, what lies here.”
They did not move from the courtyard, and none followed us as we returned to Joisan's chamber.
I thrust my torch into one of the wall rings, thus giving us more light. Nalda had twisted Yngilda's arms behind her back, prisoning her wrists in a grip I think even few men could have broken. She swung her captive around to face me. The girl was blubbering, still jerking futilely to loose herself.
Catching her by the chin, I forced her head up to meet me eye to eye.
“This was of your doing.” I made that an accusation, no question.
She wailed, looking half out of her wits. But she could not escape me so.
“Who set you to this? Rogear?”
She wailed again, and Nalda gave her a vigorous shake. “Answer!” she hissed into her ear.
Yngilda gulped. “Her lord—he said she must come to him—that would bring her—”
I believed that she spoke the truth of what Rogear had told her. But that Yngilda had been moved by any goodwill toward Joisan in the doing of this I knew was not so. That Rogear had left such a trap out of malice I could also believe.
“Bring her to her death,” I said softly. “You stand there with her blood on your hands, Yngilda, as surely as if you had used your knife!”
“No!” she cried. “She is not dead, not dead! I tell you she went—”
“Into the lake,” I finished grimly.
“Yes, but she swam—I watched—I did, I tell you!”
Again I believed she spoke truthfully, and that cold ice in me cracked a little. If Joisan had gone ashore, if she were under some ensorcellment—then I still had a chance to save her.
“It is a long swim—”
“She climbed ashore; I saw!” She screamed back at me in a frenzy of terror, as if what she read in my face near broke her wits.
I turned to the door. “Insfar, Angarl.” I summoned those two who had proven best at tracking. “Go ashore and look for any sign that someone came out of the lake!”
They were on their way at once. I came back to Nalda and her charge.
“I can do no more for you and your people now,” I told Nalda. “If my lady has been ensorcelled—”
“She is bespelled,” Nalda broke in. “Lord, bring her back safe from that!”
“What I can do, be sure that I will.” I said that as solemnly as any oath one could make with blood before kinsmen. “I must follow my lady. You will be safe here—at least for a time.”
“My Lord, think not of us. But rather fasten your thoughts upon my lady. We shall be safe. Now—what of this one?” She looked to Yngilda, who was weeping noisily.
I shrugged. Now that I had what I wanted from her, the girl was nothing to me. “Do as you will. But I lay upon you that she should be well watched. She has dealt with a Dark One and obeyed him. Through her more evil may come.”
“We shall see to her.” There was such a promise in Nalda's voice that I thought Yngilda might well shiver.
I went back to the courtyard and took up the coin of evil on the point of my knife and carried it into the water. I would not bury it in the ground lest the unknowing chance upon it.
Dawn was breaking when I rode forth on Hiku with fresh provisions for the trail. Yngilda had spoken the truth; a swimmer had come ashore, crushing lake reeds and leaving a trace that could not be mistaken. Beginning there I must follow my lady.
What manner of sorcery had been used on her I did not know, but that she was drawn against her will I had no doubts. I tracked her to the valley rim. There she was met by those who were mounted, and I knew that Rogear and his armsmen had lurked there waiting for her.
Four they were, and with perhaps such weapons as I could not imagine, my lady probably well bound so I could not entice her in any way from their company. I might only follow, trusting fortune to give me a chance, ready to help fortune when it did.
The trail led west and north, as I thought it might. It was my belief that Rogear intended to return to his own keep. He had come to Ulmsdale to obtain power. Perhaps now with the gryphon he had it.
They did not often halt, and for all my pushing they kept ever ahead. On the second day I found traces that told me their party had been augmented by three more riders. Also there were led horses, so that they could change mounts when theirs wearied. Whereas I had only Hiku, who was already worn.
Still the rough-coated pony never failed me, and I thought that any mount supplied by Neevor might be more than he seemed in outward appearance. It was after I snatched the rest I must have on the third night and headed on in the morning that I realized we were skirting lands I knew, coming into the forested fringe which had been my boyhood roving place.
There could be only one goal for those I followed. They were heading for the Waste. Well, what else could I expect—they dabbled in forbidden knowledge; surely they would turn to some possible source of the Power they wooed. But why had they taken my lady? To spite me? No, Rogear would have no interest in that. To his mind I was maimed, not to be considered an enemy any longer. And he had the gryphon—why must he have Joisan also? I kept thinking of this as I went, trying this explanation and that, yet none seemed to fit.
On the morning of the fifth day I reached the edge of the Waste, near, I realized upon checking landmarks, to that road which ran to the naked cliff. And I was not greatly surprised to discover the trail I followed led in that direction.
Once more I rode on that ancient pavement. But it was difficult to remember that time, as if what had happened to me before had been the actions of another Kerovan who was not I, or even close kin. How I wished now for Riwal. He would have known so much more, though he was no Old One. But the safeguards he had had were not mine, and those I trailed were far more learned, I feared, than Riwal.
One night I camped along the road, scanting my rest, on my way before dawn. Here were the hills where those carvings stood out on the cliff faces. I found in my going curling runes resembling those on my wristlet. From time to time, viewing them, I felt a quickening excitement, as if I were on the very verge of understanding their meaning, yet I never did.
As before, I believed I was dogged by something that spied upon me. Though it might not have been dangerous in itself, what it might serve was another matter. I reached again the place of the great face. And before it I found evidence of those I hunted.
Set out on a rock before that great countenance was a bowl and, flanking it, two holders of incense. The bowl still held a film of oily liquid, and the incense holders had been recently used. All were of a black metal or stone I did not know. But I would not have set fingertip to them for my life's sake. Around my wrist once more that blue warning arose. What I did I was moved to by revulsion. I hunted about for stones and, with the largest of these, I smashed all that was set out. There came a shrill noise as they were powdered into fragments. Almost one could believe that the things had life of their own. But I did not leave them behind me as a ready focus for any remnant of the Dark that might linger here.
When I came to that great star, which had so awed Riwal, I found no similar signs of any ceremony, only marks in the earth to show that here they had left the narrowed road on the far side, squeezed by as if they wished to be as distant from that carving in passing as they could get. This, then, they feared. I paused for a moment to study it. But it held no heartening message save that—they had feared it.
Ahead lay only the cliff wall; they could go no farther. I had come to my journey's end, and I had no better plan in my head than
to front boldly what waited me there. So I dismounted and spoke to Hiku:
“Friend, you have served me well; return now to him who gave you.” I stripped away bridle and riding pad, dropping them to the road, because I believed that what lay before me was death. It would not be their choice of death, however, for my lady and me, but mine. If need be she would die by my hand, clean of the evil they might try to lay on her.
My fingers went to the band on my wrist, seeking the pattern there. It was a thing of power, I knew. Only I had not the key of its use. However, touching it so, I stared upon the star and longed to know what would defeat the Dark Ones ahead.
It was at that moment Neevor's words returned to me:
“You shall seek and you shall find. Your own heritage shall be yours. The discovery of what you are and can be you must make for yourself.”
Brave words—said only to hearten? Or were they prophecy? Riwal said that to call upon a name in this place would unlock some force. But I knew no names; I was only human—of mixed blood perhaps—but human—
It seemed to me in that moment that I had spoken that word aloud; that it echoed back to me from the walls.
I flung up my arm before the star, and I made my plea, but not aloud. If there was any power here that might be drawn upon, let it come to me. Even if it blasted me, let me hold it long enough to free my lady, to deal with Rogear who sought to bring to this land that which was better lost. Let—it—fill—me.
It was as if something within me moved, slowly, grudgingly, as might a long-locked door. There was a flow from behind that door, one I did not understand. With it came such a maze of shadow memories as nearly overbore me. But I fought to remember who I was and why I stood there. And the memories were but shadows after all; my will was the sun to banish them.
But I knew! The shadows left behind that much. I had a weapon. Whether it would stand against what those others might marshal I could not tell until I put it to the final test. And the time was now!
I trotted ahead, urgency driving me. A sound broke the silence, a chanting that rose and fell as waves pound a coast. I rounded the bend and came upon those I sought. But of me they took no notice. They were too intent on what they would do here.
Upon the ground was a star enclosed in a circle. And that circle had been drawn in blood, blood that smoked and stank and had been drained from the armsmen who lay dead at one side like so much refuse.
On each point of the star was a spear of darkness, of oily smoke, that struck up into the sky, adding its stench to that of the blood. And before each of the points stood one of their party, four facing inward, the fifth placed before the wall to stare blank-eyed at it.
Hlymer, Rogear, Lisana, the Lady Tephana and, with her face to the wall, my Joisan. The four chanted, but she stood as one who walked through nightmares and could not help herself. Her hands were at her breast, and between them she held the gryphon.
It was if they shouted their purpose aloud, for I knew it. They were before a door, and Joisan held the key. By some fate she alone could use it, and so they had brought her for that task. What lay behind that door to which this road ran—who knew. But that I would let them open it—no!
Still they did not see me, for they were so intent upon what they did that the world beyond their star-in-circle had ceased to have real existence for them. Now I perceived something else around that line of smoking: blood-edged creatures as wispy as shadows. Now and then some dreadful snout sniffed at that barrier or dabbled in it. Fresh blood drew these remnants of ancient evil, but they were worn by centuries to such poor things they were shadows only. Of them I had no fear.
Some sighted me and came padding in my direction, their eyes glinting like bits of devilish fire. Without my willing it consciously, my arm swung up and they cowered away, their eyes upon my wrist band. So I came to the circle of blood. There the smoke made me sick to the center of my being, but against that body weakness I held firm.
Now I raised my voice and I named names, slowly, distinctly. And my words cut through the spell their chanting raised.
“Tephana, Rogear, Lisana, Hlymer—” As I spoke each, I faced a little toward the one I so named. There was a shadow flicker in my mind. Yes, this was the right of it! This had I done once before in another place and time.
All four of them started as if they had been quick-awakened from sleep. Their eyes no longer centered on Joisan's back; they turned to me. I saw black rage flare in Rogear's, and perhaps in those of Lisana and Hlymer. But the Lady Tephana smiled.
“Welcome, Kerovan. So, after all, you prove the blood runs true.” Her voice was sweeter than I had ever heard it, as she counterfeited what should have bound us together and never would. But if she thought me so poor a thing that I could be so deceived, she reckoned little of what she had once wrought.
Again that shadow knowledge moved in my mind, and I made her no answer. Instead I raised my hand, and from my wristlet a beam of blue light shot to touch the back of Joisan's head.
I saw her sway, and she gave a piteous cry. Still that which controlled me kept me to the attack, if attack it was. Slowly she turned around, seeming to shrink under a blow she could not ward off. Now she was away from the wall, facing me across the star-in-circle. Her eyes were no longer empty of what was Joisan. There was intelligence and life in them again, as she looked about her.
I heard a beast's growl from Hlymer. He would have leaped for my throat, but the Lady Tephana gestured, and he was silent and quiet in his place. Her hands moved back and forth in an odd manner as if she wove something between them. But I had little time to watch, for Rogear had moved also. He had Joisan in his hold, keeping her between us as a shield.
“The game is still ours, Kerovan, and it is to the death,” he said. We might have been facing each other across a gaming board in a keep hall.
“To the death—but to yours, not mine, Rogear.” With my upheld hand I sketched a sign, a star without a circle. Between us in the air that star not only glowed blue-green, but it traveled through the space between us until it was close to him at face level.
I saw his face go gaunt, old. But he did not lose his belief in himself. Only he dropped his hold on Joisan and stepped forward saying, “So be it!”
“No!” The Lady Tephana raised her eyes from what she wove without substance. “There is no need. He is—”
“There is every need,” Rogear told her. “He is much more than we deemed him. He must be finished, or we shall be finished too. Spin no more small spells, Lady. You had the fashioning of him flesh and bone, if not spirit. Lend me your full will now.”
I saw for the first time uncertainty in her face. She glanced at me and then away swiftly, as if she could not bear to look upon me.
“Tell me,” Rogear pressed, “do you stand with me in this? Those two”—he motioned to Hlymer and Lisana—“can be counted as nothing now. It is us against what you sought to make and failed in the doing.”
“I—” she began, and then hesitated. But at last the agreement he wished came from her. “I stand with you, Rogear.”
And I thought—so be it. From this last battle there would be no escape, nor did I wish it.
18
Joisan
I dreamed and could not wake, and the dream was dark with fear at its core. For me there was no escape, for in this dream I walked as one without will of my own. He who gave the order was Rogear.
First there was the calling, a need so laid upon me that I left the keep, trusted myself to the waters about it, swam for the shore. Then I must have traveled yet farther across those deserted fields until Rogear was there and he horsed me before him to ride.
There were parts I could not remember. Food was put in my hands and I ate, yet I tasted nothing. I drank and was aware of neither thirst nor the quenching of it. We were joined by others, and I saw them only as shadows.
On we rode into strange places, but these were the places of dreams, never clearly seen. At last we came to the end of that j
ourney. There was—no! I do not wish to remember that part of the dream. But afterward, I held my lord's gift in my hands and it was laid upon me, as much as if I were in bonds, that I must stand, and when orders came I must obey. But what I was to do—and why—?
Before me was a cliff rising up and up, and behind me I heard a sound, a sound that lashed at me. I wanted to run—yet as in all ill dreams I could not move, only stand and look upon the rock and wait—
Then—
There was pain bursting in my head, like fire come to devour my mind, burn out all thought. But what vanished in those flames was that which held me prisoner to another's will. Weakly I turned away from the cliff to look upon those who held me captive.
Lord Amber!
Not as I had seen him last with bandaged eyes, fumbling in blindness, but as a warrior now, ready for battle, though his sword was sheathed and he had no knife-of-honor ready. Still, that he warred in another way, I knew.
There were four others. And I saw then there was a star drawn in the earth and that I stood in the point that fronted the cliff, those others to my right and left in the other points.
One was Rogear, two were women, the fourth another man. He made a move in the direction of Lord Amber, but the woman to my right stayed him with a gesture. Rogear sprang before I could move and held me like a battle shield.
“The game is still ours, Kerovan,” he said, “and it is to the death.”
Kerovan! What did he mean? My lord was dead.
Lord Amber—it was Lord Amber who answered him. “To the death, but to yours, not mine, Rogear.” I saw him draw a sign in the air, and there was a blue star that traveled to hang before Rogear's eyes.