by Andre Norton
“Johann!”
His head swung toward Leela. “And you, woman. You have not yet learned your—” His voice trailed off and the scowl lightened. Now he looked not only younger but oddly unsure of himself.
Leela had grasped the amulet in her hand and was holding it against her breast as if to give it greater power with all the strength of her body.
“Johann,” she spoke his name again and came around the table to stand before him. “Why are you angry, Johann?”
His look was troubled and he brushed one hand shakily across his forehead. “I—I do not know. I have no quarrel—”
“No quarrel with me, Johann, is that not so?” Leela now stood directly before him. She raised her other hand and touched his cheek gently. “There is no ill will between us, Johann—is that not so.”
He flashed a sudden grin and his hands went to Leela's shoulders, pulled her into a tight hug.
“It is so,” he murmured into her hair as he held her. “I do not know what dark one took my tongue. And—and I did this—” He held her a little away from him and put one hand under her chin lifting her head a fraction before his fingers did not quite touch her bruised cheek. “Leela, surely I was demon-led. I ask your pardon for you are Leela, my own.” Again he embraced her.
But Twilla was troubled. He had sworn by Scalla—and that was a mark-name of power once shattered. Was Leela right in believing that the death of the Dandus priest only scattered the wider the evil he cherished?
“It is well, Johann.” Leela stroked his cheek in turn. “There is no ill between us now. I am sorry that you have suffered a fine, but I am not sorry that I stood with the women for the sake of Wandi. A child must never be tormented for another's gain.”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Why did any of us not rise to do the same as you women did? We were demon-touched. If our lord demands a fine for such then it is he who holds to darkness.”
“Hush!” Leela's hand was instantly over his lips as he said that. “Do not speak such thoughts—but do not lose them either. Now—” She paused a little away from him, “This is in truth a healer—Twilla by name. She has come to serve us as she can.”
“But there are no women healers, Lord Harmond would not have it so.”
“Yet here she stands,” continued Leela. “She serves man and beast, even as do all healers over mountain. You started to Roamnors to get help for the ewe—let Twilla look to the beast—”
He looked at Twilla, taking in her dress, and then staring at her face.
“Well enough, Healer. If you can serve my best ewe then be sure I shall reward it.”
His harsh anger of moments before seemed to have never existed and Twilla no longer had any doubts over the efficiency of the amulet. She followed him easily enough out to one of the sheds where there lay panting a ewe with the fine fawn colored fleece of a superior animal.
Straightway Twilla busied herself with the animal. She no longer had her herb bag but she still had her knowledge and there was much to be done. Johann knelt in the straw on the other side of the ewe and watched her until at last there was a strong bleat from the sheep, which raised its head and kicked with its legs, striving to stand again. He aided it quickly.
Twilla studied a mess on the floor of the shed. “It has eaten samp weed—look to your fields, Johann, such must be rooted out. Luckily this one had not gotten much of it—samp weed kills.”
“Yes?” He was steadying the ewe. “My thanks, Healer. I have only coppers but all in the money box is yours.”
Twilla shook her head. “I need no pay, Johann. Leela is my friend from the past, I came to see how matters went with her. I found them not good, but I go knowing they will be better.”
A flush darkened the weathered brown of his face. “Healer, I do not know what kind of good you have worked here, but that dark in me is gone also. It was evil and I was another man. But, healer, there are others of a like mind with me as I was, if you venture into the town—”
Twilla shook her head. “No, I am not for the town—I wander as healers are sworn to do when their aid is needed. But—tell me, Johann—you called upon Scalla—where did you learn that?”
His flush deepened. “Healer, there has been much talk in the market, in the ale house, at the mill. I—I listened because it was what was mostly what men talk of in these days. But—this do I swear, by the blood in me, Healer, I give no grain or lamb to the balefire! Nor shall I speak that name again!”
“I believe you speak the truth. However, it is unwise to call upon evil even in careless talk. I must be on my way now, Leela.” She looked to the fishergirl standing at the door. “I am no longer needed here.”
Leela reached out and caught her by the arm. “Healer, best indeed be on your way. And we give you hearty thanks, though some of our neighbors might not be so minded.”
Johann nodded vigorously. “The next farm is Roamnor's—he—he paid tribute to the Dandus priest willingly.”
“Thank you for the warning. Leela, guard yourself well, in times to come there may be more trouble.”
They wanted her to take food, a well-woven blanket, but she refused. As she passed the gate the lizards took to wing and hovered over her. But she turned and waved vigorously to the two who now stood by the farmhouse door. If the amulets worked as well with the other women—surely they had a beginning even as Karla and Catha hoped.
29
THE SUN WAS already climbing and to Twilla, used now to the shadow ways of the forest, the land looked grimly bare. She hesitated about striking off directly toward the dark loom of the wood, sure that she could be easily sighted by any patrol which might exist.
As if they too were anxious, the lizards continued to wheel about her as she went, without settling again on her shoulders. Then, of a sudden, they bunched and flew directly down at her. She dodged but they returned in the same maneuver, sending her to her knees they swooped so low. Another pass and they had her nearly flat. There was the remains of another earthen fence neared and the constant swoops of the lizards drove Twilla into a washed-out portion of that wall.
The lizards dropped to the earth, straightway changing their color to the brown-red of the soil. Their actions she decided were in the nature of a warning. She crouched flatter. Then through her hands against the ground felt the vibration forerunning sound.
There came a jangle of gear, a snorting, and then a voice.
“Captain says keep clear of the patches—”
“Ain't none of us goin’ there anyway.”
Men's voices harsh and with the twang of that accent the mercenaires who had guarded the bride train over mountain used. Twilla tried to plaster herself against the earth. She could only hope that the drabness of her clothing was enough like the field earth that she not be easily sighted.
“They ain't showin’ any,” remarked the second voice. “And why should they?”
“They don't have to show,” returned the other. “You was there when that demon sent His Mightiness into his own fire. An’ didn't everyone swear as how his power was goin’ to bring the demons right out of hiding to be cut down? Well who got it mid-center then?”
“You've got a big mouth, Rolf,” said his companion. “Better close it before you tongue your way into the cells. His Lordship don't want any wild talkin’ ‘bout that dustup.”
“It ain't wild talkin’ when I seen it for my ownself,” the other replied. “Got me a lump on the head to prove it, ain't I? That fool of a woman had a good swing—”
“Comes from hayin’. They learn that there when they has to scythe down a field. But the Lord learned ‘em. They won't be tryin’ such again. They got their public lashin's and then their men, they gave them what for, too. Don't take kindly to payin’ fines, these dirt grubbers don't.”
“Casper was talkin’ funny last night,” the voices had not drawn any nearer and Twilla believed that they had halted not too far away from her very-exposed hiding place.
“Casper's got the brains of a pudd
le hopper. You can take everythin’ he says, swish it around, and maybe get one or two words of truth out of it. What's ridin’ him this time?”
“He says as how that priest had him a friend in the forest. That he would never have tried that balefire if he hadn't had word that it was goin’ to work.”
“Well, it didn't. An’ the one who gave him his comeuppance came from there. It was a woman too—wonder if they do the fightin’ for the forest ‘stead of the men. Now that would be somethin’ to think about. Casper saywhere he heard this bit of news?”
“He was guard at the tower, the Lord and the priest talked some. But it was the captain as the priest was closest with. He an’ the Lord ain't too friendly these days.”
There followed a harsh laugh. “Now I wonder why? If my paw pushed me to wed an’ bed that hag face I don't think I'd take kindly to the idea or to him either. I saw her plain when they pushed her out. Face was enough to turn a man's stomach it was. Good thing she and that demon-blasted Ylon got theirs in the river—good for the Captain that is. Ylon now, he was a good officer ‘til the demons got him. Different from this one.”
“The Lord, he's countin’ on the crawlers. They're not too far from the town now. Run them up to that there woods and then just do some hackin’ away where no demon is goin’ to get at one. Maybe the Lord—he knows the priest's friend and got him secrets ‘bout what is waitin’ there. Well, we have our look-see here. I ain't goin’ to ride no closer, got me a sore rump yet from when that horse dumped me yonder—”
“What made them go crazylike?”
There was no immediate answer to that and that demand came again:
“What made them go crazylike?”
The answering voice was lower as if the speaker did not expect to be believed.
“Flyin’ things. They got to the horses—an’ to men too—See them little marks here on my neck. Still showing but they ain't stingin’ any more.”
“What kind of flying things?” the other pushed.
“Look here, I ain't goin’ to get called up before the Captain for sayin’ somethin’ as he swore weren't true—though they got him too. Take it they were flyin’ things an’ they came from the Woods. Kept us from gettin’ that demon as blew up the priest.”
“Flyin’ things,” repeated the other. “Well, whatever they were they sure did the business for the Captain's squad.”
The other grunted and then Twilla heard the horses moving off. She remained where she was until one of the lizards came to life, stretching its wings for a takeoff and she gathered that was now clear.
However, she studied the land ahead, trying to plan a passage which would not take her in plain sight. It must be near noontime, she scrubbed her face with her hand trying to beat off the midges which clung to the grass stems and seized upon her coming as an invitation to a banquet.
Reaching the site of the blasted fire Twilla made her way carefully around that dark scar. Even with the flames long gone she had no desire to come near where the Dandus priest had been working with dark powers. Was the friend he counted upon in the forest Lotis? Had the Dank Fire Ylon destroyed been in some way linked with this? Power called to power, Lotis might have set up a beacon of her own knowledge to attract that of the priest.
She came at last to the brush hedge and found a way through it. The cool of the forest was a balm after the heat of the outer lands. Twilla leaned against one of the great trees while the lizards plastered themselves against the trunk and were lost to sight.
Now she needed a guide back to the great tree— unless the lizards could supply that. But they were not moving on. Somehow she had expected Karla or Catha to be waiting but she might well have been alone in the mist-veiled shadows. There was no sign of any life.
She wished she knew the trick to the transportation mists but that was not within her range of power. There was nothing to do but plod ahead down an aisle between the massive trunks, hoping to meet one of the warders—but not such a beast as she had faced near the river.
Outside the sun had been heavy and bright, here was something close to twilight and it took some time for her to adjust to the change in light. The floating mists made it hard to mark a way very far ahead and she only hoped that she was on the right course.
The girl stopped short, head up, nostrils expanded to catch that faint scent. It was one she would never forget—Lotis's mark. She was no hound able to trace it to its source but she began to move again, very slowly, striving to measure the strength of that fragrance. At the same time she reached for her mirror. Lotis, she was sure, was making mischief and since the forest people could not apparently stop her—
Twilla ran her tongue over lips which seemed dry. Undoubtedly she was a fool if she thought that she could stand up to a mage who had earlier bested even her own kind. If she were wise she would go as far in the opposite direction as she could. Yet still she walked on steadily and as noiselessly as she could, while above her the lizards fluttered their way. They seemed to show no discomfort and certainly had not delivered such a warning as they had when they had sent her into hiding in the open.
The deep leaf mold on which she trod was changing. There were humps, growing larger between the trees and as Twilla went she saw that some of them had broken completely through the deposit of years to display crowns of round stone. These seemed to be aligned, leading onward with a narrow track between.
Twilla came to an abrupt halt. The scent of Lotis's fragrance still wafted about her but there was something else here—underlying that. Something which made her queasy. She had not entered that plainly marked trail ahead nor did she intend to. When dealing with powers it was best always to be wary.
The lizards had gathered in to her, their weight again on her shoulders and her capped head. It would appear that they had no more desire to advance than she had.
That hump-marked way was veiled from sight only a few lengths ahead. The mists—no—Twilla studied what hung there. And memory stirred. When Karla had come to her after Lotis had crippled the ways of the castle the mist which had brought her had had the same yellowish, curdled look.
Yet—the girl looked back over her shoulder. Yes, there were other drifts of the mist, silver untarnished, as fair as this stuff was foul. And foul it certainly was.
A ward—a barrier—?
Twilla was drawn in two directions—go on, mirror in hand and dare that—or retreat?
As she lingered trying to make up her mind that curdled mist billowed, twisted, something might be caught within its center. Twilla had the memory of a fly entangled in a web. A captive? She could not find herself able to turn away now.
Unslinging the mirror to hold before her, she took the first stride down that hump-marked path. The lizards soared. They did not dive at her in warning as they had beyond, rather they encircled her as she went.
Twilla noted that the murky web was not retreating and the bulging movement within it was growing more frantic. She swung up the mirror, focused it on the mist, but hesitated before she tried to call up any power. Would what or who was entangled there suffer if she blasted the mist?
Three cautious steps onward brought her between two stones more than waist high. These were glistening as if water washed over them and the stench of the thing ahead had smothered out all of Lotis's fragrance. Twilla studied the mist trying with all her might to see what was so engulfed. She only saw a shadow which moved as if some large hand waved from muck to tree-top.
Then there reached her a thrust of fear—not her own but that of another. She dared not waste time. The thing entrapped was in a frenzy of terror.
Mirror held out before her Twilla edged closer. The lizards spun about her faster and faster, but none dived to warn her. She focused her will upon the plate in her hand.
A silvery haze arose from that, whirling about upon itself as it gathered strength and force as might one of those great windstorms of the outer lands. Then the last root of it separated from the mirror and it bored forward as if sh
e had launched some giant, vaporous screw.
The tip touched the surface of that leperous barrier. Within, the movements became more and more frantic. From where that mirror-mist point had touched there ran lines, cracks. They deepened. The foul fog writhed with more than the movement of its captive now. It split, peeling away as that hardly seen form within must have launched itself forward.
Twilla faced what came through. It was a bird, not on wing but coming at a half waddle. But such a bird! Even as the trees around were giants of their kind, not to be seen elsewhere, so was this bird larger than any she had ever witnessed a-wing.
As it came it fanned pinions each near as long as a man was tall. And the body was equal in size to her own. Its beak gaped and she saw that the edges were serrated giving the appearance of toothed jaws. The head went up and a little back and it voiced the cry she had heard before—Anisgar!
Since it was coming straight toward her Twilla was forced into retreat, fearing that the thing might believe her responsible for its capture. The lizards broke the circle they had kept about her and flew on to hover above the giant creature which certainly could not take wing here where the close-knit trees would prevent such action.
The Anisgar halted. After that one loud cry it was silent. But its head, mounted on a long curve of the neck, stabbed forward with such speed Twilla could not avoid it. The strong, wickedly toothed bill touched the mirror surface with a lightness which surprised her.
For a long moment it stood so, beak against the mirror. Then its head raised higher and she was looking into great golden eyes in which there was a spark of flame red. It nodded its head several times and she thought she understood. The creature was too large to pass her, but it wanted freedom beyond where she stood.
Twilla backed away still keeping the mirror in sight, followed eagerly by the anisgar. She was beyond that hump-marked trail, back in the Wood. But still it could not take to wing here. Though its gait was not far removed from a waddle it went past her as she pressed herself back against a tree trunk. It was moving she was certain with a definite purpose.
