The Fourth Book Of Lost Swords : Farslayer's Story (Saberhagen's Lost Swords 4)

by Fred Saberhagen

  * * *

  Chilperic conversed with the strange young soldier a little longer, then gave him orders to stand by with his men, and turned his own steps back toward the house. Already Chilperic was turning over furiously in his own mind the feasibility of a raid on the Malolo manor—that would at least offer him a chance of getting his hands on this new Sword that seemed to have appeared on the scene. And obtaining that weapon, in turn, might very well placate the dark power that Chilperic served, in the event he failed to find Farslayer.

  Before they parted, Koszalin had another suggestion. “The two strange officers who have appeared over there may be scouting in advance of their army. Commanders, high-ranking people, have been known to do such things. But if that’s who they are, you can bet that their army, or its advance guard at least, isn’t far behind.”

  * * *

  When Chilperic returned from his outdoor conference with the mercenary captain, he found the Lady Megara talking with someone in the great hall. Megara was moving about the house slowly and somewhat weakly, not yet ready to go out. But obviously she was no longer going to spend most of her time confined to her room.

  Megara turned at Chilperic’s entrance, and asked: “Where have you been?” The question was almost a demand.

  “Inspecting the defenses, my lady. It’s good to see you up and about, and looking well.” That was something of an exaggeration. In fact, though she was now more active, the lady indeed looked older than she had when Chilperic had first seen her. He would now estimate her age at about thirty.

  “The defenses? You mean those mercenaries we hired last night. I mean to go out and talk to them myself. Later I shall—when I feel stronger.”

  Chilperic said nothing to discourage this plan, thinking that by doing so he would only guarantee it.

  He went on to his breakfast, and managed to enjoy it. Hissarlik did not appear at the table. Soon Chilperic, this time accompanied by both Megara and Tigris was once more closeted in his room, trying again to call his demon.

  Again he drew out the leather wallet from his bosom, rubbed it, and carefully recited the words of the incantation.

  This time, to his immense relief, Rabisu did respond to his summoning. Not with a physical presence, but at least the insect chittering of the demonic voice sounded in Chilperic’s mind. He thought it could probably be heard in the air around him as well.

  The women could indeed hear the voice. Megara appeared largely indifferent, but Tigris frowned at Chilperic, puzzled by what she heard.

  Rabisu’s first response reached Chilperic in the form of an extremely attenuated whisper, as if the hideous creature were trying to make contact with him from some enormous distance. Indeed, to begin with the signal was so very faint that Chilperic could not make out what was being said.

  But he persisted in his efforts at summoning, and within half an hour the voice of the demon was definitely louder, and marginally more clear. Now and then a word or two came through distinctly, but the man still found it impossible to do more than guess at the meaning of the message as a whole.

  Tigris murmured to Lady Megara: “It is almost enough to make one envious, is it not?”

  Megara recalled herself from some mental distance. “Envious?”

  “Of the power that Wood has granted our friend here. That such a vastly inferior wizard as our friend Chilperic, no wizard at all really, should have such a superior tool as a demon placed at his command.”

  “I have seen demons,” said Megara, still distantly. “I have felt them, too.”

  “My dear, I suppose we have all seen them at some time—all of us who are acquainted with the art. But to know the luxury of being able to command one…” Tigris let her words trail away.

  Chilperic naturally had heard the conversation, though he wasn’t sure what Tigris was trying to accomplish by it. Now he bowed lightly in Lady Megara’s direction. “Should you ever decide to serve my master, lady, I am sure that you would be favored, too.”

  “Your master? I have little interest in serving any master now.”

  “When you are fully recovered, my lady, perhaps it will be time to speak of an alliance.”

  “An alliance? But why—never mind.”

  Chilperic went back to trying to communicate with his living tool; he was still having only very limited success in that endeavor.

  He maintained his calm as well as he was able. But he had to admit to the healer sorceress Tigris that something was still seriously wrong.

  She offered to help.

  But Chilperic did not know what the demon was trying to tell him, and thought that the message might well be one he wouldn’t want any outsider to hear. He tried to convey this objection to Megara as delicately as possible.

  “Of course. I understand perfectly.”

  Tigris went out with her, for which Chilperic was grateful. He supposed that she would expect a full report later.

  * * *

  Despite the demon’s promise of a swift return, many hours had passed and night had fallen before Rabisu’s voice was close and clear enough for Chilperic to be able to understand it reasonably well.

  But this understanding, when he managed it, did nothing to alleviate Chilperic’s growing sense of alarm. Quite the contrary.

  Rabisu reported having been forced, by some overwhelming magic, to abandon his place of duty.

  “Your place of duty? And where was that? I don’t recall assigning you to any particular place.”

  “I was patrolling in the valley, lord. Trying to look out for your interests as best I could.” The demon went on to report that he had been hurled away, to an almost inconceivable distance, by one of a party of men he had discovered in a fishing boat upon the Tungri.

  “By a fisherman?”

  “No, Lord Chilperic, no. Not by a fisherman at all. This man was much more than that.”

  “I should think he must have been. Proceed with your explanation, then. Tell me what happened.”

  Rabisu, in a subservient voice, continued his report. The fishing boat had come out, he thought, from the Malolo side of the river, and it had been heading for the islands. The description given by the demon of two of the boat’s five passengers matched well with Koszalin’s account of two of the impressive visitors who seemed to have attached themselves to the Malolo cause.

  And one of these two men had been wearing a Sword.

  Chilperic sighed deeply. “Was it Farslayer?”

  “I do not believe that it was that Sword, sir.”

  “Then which was it? You are certain it was one of the Twelve?”

  “To the second question I answer yes. As for the first, I regret that I do not know.”

  “Go on.”

  Rabisu related how he had caused himself to materialize directly in front of the boat, and had challenged those aboard. To his first cursory inspection, none of the men aboard the boat had seemed to be magicians at all and Chilperic, listening to the story, knew that demons were unlikely to be wrong in such matters. But then, when Rabisu materialized, the man who wore the Sword had answered him with what seemed fearless confidence.

  “And then, master, it fell on me as if from nowhere—a stroke that Ardneh himself might have delivered! I could do nothing to resist it, nothing!”

  “What kind of a stroke?” Chilperic was still mystified.

  “It hurled me to a vast distance. I am at a loss to give any more detailed description.”

  “Well, can I take it that you are successfully recovering from it now?”

  “I am returning to you as fast as I am able, master. As far as I can tell, my powers are unimpaired. If I were to tell you how far that one blow hurled me—if I were to mention to you the orbit of the Moon then you might accuse me of lying.”

  If the demon were a man, thought Chilperic, then he might accuse him of being drunk. As matters stood, that suspicion did not apply. He let the point pass for the time being. “And how soon will you be here again, ready to act upon my orders?�
�

  “Within the hour, master. What will my orders be?”

  “I’ll make a final decision on that when you get here. Let your arrival in my room be as unobtrusive as possible.”

  Was it possible, Chilperic wondered, that the creature was lying to him? Wood had warned him that insubordination of that kind was a possibility with a demon, no matter what threats or punishment were used.

  Probably, thought Chilperic, only Wood himself, or one of his high magical lieutenants, would be able to determine with certainty whether such a creature was telling the truth or not.

  Would Tigris qualify? Perhaps.

  But suppose that the tale told by the demon, however improbable it sounded, was true. That meant that he, Chilperic, now found himself facing powers that were capable of kicking Rabisu off to the end of the earth, or perhaps farther, like some troublesome puppy. Chilperic knew there were some demons in the world stronger and more powerful than Rabisu. But not very many. So any power that could do that…

  * * *

  So Chilperic now felt that whatever Wood might think, he, Chilperic, must decline to enter the lists in such a contest. Unless of course he were given substantial help. It would have to be very substantial indeed.

  Frowning thoughtfully, he paced about in his little room until the demon at last arrived.

  This time the demonic manifestation was quite modest: only a grinning head that might have belonged to something between a wolf and a snake, which appeared to grow out of the chamber’s outer wall.

  Speaking forcefully to this apparition, while he held the leather wallet in his hand for it to see, Chilperic gave orders. Rabisu was to fly to Wood, as swiftly as possible, taking word to the master of what had happened to it here. Then it was to return to Chilperic as quickly as it might, bringing whatever orders the master Wood might have for him, as well as whatever help the master might be willing to send.

  Chilperic once more closed himself in his room, feeling weary, stretched out on his bed. But before he had gone to sleep, Tigris reappeared, closing the door softly behind her as usual. From the way she smiled at him, this time she was in a seductive mood.

  He was not really surprised, and her evident decision to share his bed for the night was welcome, though he thought they had better keep Hissarlik from finding out.

  He cautioned his companion on this subject. “The way he looked at you, he’s certain to be jealous. And that certainly wouldn’t help matters.”

  Tigris laughed her distinctive laugh. “He is only a boy, and you can manage him without trouble,” she assured him.

  “No doubt I can.”

  “Oh, by the way, I thought I should mention to you that I have very recently been in contact with our master.”

  “Have you indeed? Telling him what?”

  “Nothing to your detriment, I assure you, dear Chilperic.” Tigris had now begun to undress. “I have described our difficulties to the magnificent Wood, and he assured me that help would soon be on the way.”

  “Oh, in what form?”

  “That he did not specify.” She removed the last garment, and bounced cheerfully onto the bed. “And now, dear Chilperic, if you would like to help me with a certain personal problem, kindly place your own clothing on a chair.”

  * * *

  On awakening, some hours later, Chilperic found his room still dark, but sensed that Tigris was up and moving about. “What are you doing?”

  “I must go and check on my patient again. Go back to sleep.”

  “Quite a sense of duty you have.” Half-consciously he felt in the darkness to make sure that the wallet holding the demon’s life, and one or two other things of considerable value, were still where he wanted them to be. Then he let himself drift back to sleep.

  * * *

  Hissarlik, having been awakened by a light tap on his door, felt something in the center of his being hesitate for a beat when he saw the identity of his visitor. Still he was not really surprised. He was the clan leader, was he not? Still a very important person, even in these days when the clan was so sadly diminished.

  “Lady Tigris.”

  “Indeed, it is I, my lord.” She smiled at him winsomely. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mark and Zoltan’s first search for Black Pearl had been brief and unavailing. It was broken off without a landing being made on either of the islands. The small party in their boat observed a gathering of people, including what looked like a small force of militia, on the northern, Senones side of the river. There several comparatively large boats could be seen drawn up on shore in position for launching. When Bonar beheld this demonstration of enemy force he insisted on retreating, and in the circumstances Mark had to agree that might well be the wisest thing to do. Zoltan, worried about Black Pearl, reluctantly went along.

  The remainder of the day and the following night passed virtually without incident at Malolo manor. The visitors divided the hours of darkness into shifts among themselves, and with the aid of Bonar and some of his servants, kept watch through the night. But neither the mercenaries nor anyone else appeared to cause trouble.

  In the morning, Mark was more determined than ever to locate the mermaid who had said she knew something of the Sword’s hiding place; and Zoltan was growing increasingly concerned about Black Pearl. Today therefore a stronger expedition was organized.

  This morning the augmented force hiked to the fishing village in the predawn grayness. Shortly after dawn the expedition was ready, and took to the river in two boats. Ben, Lady Yambu, and the magician Gesner accompanied Mark, Zoltan, and Bonar, while Violet and Rose were left in charge of the manor.

  Today’s boats were larger than yesterday’s, and rowed by four men each. These were all armed, so that in all thirteen armed men were taking to the river today, a force everyone agreed was probably substantial enough to face any that the Senones were likely to put in the field.

  The sun was still low above the eastern stretch of river, and dew still glittered on the vegetation of Mermaids’ Island, when the two boats landed there.

  Exploring this scrap of land was the work of a very few minutes. None of the mermaids were to be seen, though their shore living facilities, fireplaces and simple shelters lining one of the convoluted inlets, were available for inspection. The shelters were tiny caves very close to water level, all of them now empty. The inlet was lined with steplike terraces where a mermaid could sit comfortably just in or just out of the water, and have access to the fireplaces on the next level up. Coals glowed brightly in one or two of the small, sheltered fireplaces, and someone had recently been cleaning fish. Near the fireplaces, driftwood had been piled up to dry.

  Bonar and Zoltan called, but none of the fishgirls, who had presumably taken to the water nearby, responded. Bonar told his companions that the mermaids who might have been on the island moments ago had doubtless taken alarm at the size and unusual character of this invading force. They would probably be watching from somewhere in the river nearby.

  Stubbornly Zoltan roamed the perimeter of the island, calling Black Pearl’s name repeatedly, and waving his arms, hoping to draw the attention of underwater watchers. But he drew no response.

  It was also possible to see, on the island, the places of barter where food and other necessities were sometimes left by people coming out from the mainland, in exchange for pearls and other occasional items of value left by the mermaids. Zoltan could see no reason why a direct face-to-face trade could not be conducted—perhaps, he thought, in the early years of the curse mermaids had been considered taboo, or dangerous, and this indirect method had developed.

  * * *

  Whatever had caused the usual inhabitants of Mermaids’ Island to absent themselves today, they remained absent, which struck Zoltan as somehow ominous. After pacing from one end of the island to the other, and fruitlessly calling Black Pearl’s name a dozen times more, he agreed with the prince his uncle that they had better move on and tr
y to reach the hermit on the south shore. If fishgirls were not to be found, Gelimer seemed to represent the next most likely source of information about the Sword.

  Just as they were about to embark again, Mark paused, squinting across the water. “What about Magicians’ Island?”

  Bonar protested that it was unsafe to visit that place, that mermaids never went there, no one ever did. Gesner, consulted for his professional opinion, admitted that wizards, himself included, visited Magicians’ Island from time to time, and that the real danger to anyone had to be considered minimal.

  “Then I think we ought to take a look.”

  The prince as usual had his way. Magicians’ Island was not much more than a hundred meters from the shore base of the mermaids. But before the rowers had moved the two boats halfway there, the attention of the entire party was distracted by the sight of someone or something swimming on an interception course toward them, straight from the south.

  It was a mermaid, it could be nothing else. A mermaid, just below the surface, coming toward them faster than the boats were moving, approaching at a speed that only a true fish could have matched.

  She burst to the surface almost within reach of Zoltan as he crouched in the prow of one of the boats.

  “Soft Ripple!” He thought he had recognized the tawny hair even before the mermaid surfaced.

  Clinging to the boat, breathless with the speed of her race and with some underlying excitement, Soft Ripple babbled out an incoherent story about Black Pearl’s being dead. She added something to the effect that the treacherous Cosmo was to blame.

  Gesner and Bonar sat up straight in their boat at the mention of that last name. But Zoltan had frozen in horror at what he heard. With the clarity of dazed detachment, he saw that Soft Ripple was holding up something she now wore on a fine chain about her neck. And he could recognize the amulet that Black Pearl had been wearing the last time he saw her.